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#someone must take the L
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So Gus threatening his illusion and said illusion being terrified and showing visual fear is a metaphor about how he’s scared of himself right?
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the-ghost-bird · 1 year
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Next time I see my sparring partner, I'm breaking his ribs, or better yet, his skull, just like he tried to break mine today
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rynbutt · 25 days
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pierced. pt.2 | spencer reid.
When you hadn't heard from Spencer in 3 weeks you thought you'd jumped the gun a bit... Or maybe he was just nervous.
pt. 1 | pt. 3 | pt. 4
cw: fem!reader, mentions of periods, mentions of alcohol, kissing, fluffy <3
a/n: i got carried away :,)
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The bar bathroom smelled of booze, sweat and another third thing you’d rather not think about.
You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, leaning over the sink to fix your lipstick with your finger and thumb. You fished around in your purse, pulling out the black tube of lipstick and plucking the cap off. You puckered your lips, admiring the matte colour in the smudged bathroom mirror that you dare not touch.
You were trying to be social for a change, perhaps meet some new people and make some new friends. After all, you didn’t know anyone and the cute FBI agent you met and gave your number to hadn’t called you since your interaction 3 weeks ago. You tried not to mull over it but you thought you landed a cutie, thinking he found you attractive too; he did find your boobs fascinating, the least he could do was buy you a drink. 
A pub crawl probably wasn’t the best place to start with making friends, it wasn’t really your thing. But after some of the new hires who started along with you invited you out to a pub crawl (you just happened to be sitting in the break room at the same time) you decided to just give it a shot. You soldiered through dinner and the first two bars you followed them along to, but when they left without you at the third, you were ready to down one more drink, call a cab and curl up with Tofu on the couch. 
You leaned over the sink, adjusting your black mini dress over your shoulders before grabbing your purse, letting out a tired sigh at your failed attempt at establishing some much needed friendships in this huge city.
“Shit, shit, shit! No-” A woman cursed from the stall behind you, sounding like she was rifling through her purse. 
“Are you okay?” You asked softly, knocking on the stall door.
“Oh, uhm, yeah… actually, do you have a tampon or something?” She asked quietly, seeming embarrassed.
“Shit, yeah, I do,” you quickly said, rifling through your purse for your stash of pads and tampons. A must whenever you go to bars, you never know when you or someone else will need it. “Here,” reached over the stall door, holding it as far out as you could for her. 
“Oh my god, thank you, you’re an angel,” she breathed a sigh of relief, taking the tampon from you. 
“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled to yourself.
“I’m going to get you a drink as a thank you.”
You chuckled softly, “oh, please. It’s really no trouble.”
“Ah- ta ta ta, I insist,” she retorted. 
Maybe you would make a friend tonight.
You stood by the basins as she flushed and pulled the stall door open. She wore bright pink heels and her hair sat in perfect curls over her shoulders, with thick glasses perched on her nose. She exuded sweetness. 
She smiled at you sweetly, “you’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s all good, I always have extra on me,” you grinned. “Just in case.”
“I like where your head’s at. The one time I didn’t bring my normal purse,” she laughed, washing her hands with the miniscule amount of soap left. “I’m Penelope Garcia,” she stuck her hand out for you to shake.
You shook her hand, “Y/N L/N.”
“I love your dress, you look gorgeous,” Penelope said, the two of you leaving the grotty bathroom together. You glanced down at your black mini dress, smiling to yourself at the compliment.
It had been a while since you broke it out of your closet. It was your favourite though, hugged your curves perfectly and had long sleeves that kept you warm but a deep neckline to show off your cleavage. 
“Thank you, it’s been a while since I’ve worn it.” You replied, letting Penelope link her arm around yours as she ushered you to the bar through the crowd of people. 
“Do you have a boyfriend?” she suddenly asked. 
You laughed at her abrupt question. “No… Why, you got a cute friend?”
“I do!” She exclaimed excitedly, making you chuckle. “He’s real sweet, you should totally hang out with us… That’s if you’re not here with anyone?”
“No, no, I’m not. Well, I was, but they left-”
“Without you?!”
“I don’t know them that well, it’s fine. I mean I just moved here.”
“But girl code? You never leave a girl by herself in a bar,” Penelope said, clutching her necklace, she seemed far more offended than you were. 
You and Penelope continued to talk and laugh at the bar while you waited for the line at the bar to subside. She asked you all about how you liked moving here and when you told her about your cat Tofu, she insisted on seeing photos. She bought you a tequila sunrise and ushered you over to the booth she said her friends were sitting at.
“Everyone, this is Y/N, she just saved my life,” Penelope exaggerated, introducing you to the very official looking group of people seated in the booth. 
But you lost interest in them quickly when you spotted Spencer Reid, the man who apparently doesn’t own a phone. 
“Oh, hey,” you said, your voice raising an octave as you pointed at Spencer. 
Spencer furrowed his brows, almost not recognising you without your tight baby blue tank on, “Y/N?”
“It’s Dr. Can’t Call Back,” you teased. The man you recognised as Agent Morgan let out a laugh, clapping a hand over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Wait, you know Reid?” Penelope asked.
“She lived in the apartment across from a crime scene, we interviewed her,” Morgan explained before staring down Spencer, “And little boy wonder managed to get her number and didn’t call her.”
“What!” Penelope exclaimed. “She’s hot!”
You covered your mouth as you laughed, “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m sure he only took my number to be polite.”
“Oh he did not,” A blonde woman laughed. “He talked about it for days.”
“Oh, really?” You raised a brow at Spencer, who was almost beet red at the sudden spotlight on him. Penelope ushered you next to Spencer into the booth, the two of you pressed together between Morgan and the blonde woman.
“Yeah he did, couldn’t get him to shut up,” Another woman with dark hair said.
“I was going to call you,” Spencer said defensively. “But I got busy-”
“More like nervous,” Morgan retorted with a laugh.
Spencer sunk into the plush leather of the couch and you spent the next hour learning everyone’s names and learning that they were all in the FBI. Now that they knew who you were, there goes your chances of being a sexy drug lord.
It was nice to feel included, everyone asking you about your new job, where you grew up, what you liked about moving here, you finally made some new friends. Penelope sealed the deal when she gave you her number, promising to take you to lunch some time to thank you for your heroic act in saving her.
You glanced at Spencer as he shifted uncomfortably next to you, “you wanna get a drink?” you asked, attempting to get him away from everyone and talk to him. 
He nervously moved some of his hair out of his face, “Yeah…Yeah sure,” he replied quietly, a slight nervousness in his voice.
The two of you slid out of the booth and you grabbed his hand as you pulled him to the bar. His hands were clammy with nervousness but he didn’t let go of your hand until you dropped his hand, leaning on the bar.
“So…”
“I was going to call you. I really was,” he said quickly, letting out a shaky breath.
You laughed at his nervousness, “It’s okay, Dr. Reid. I’m not holding it against you.”
“Spencer,” he corrected. 
“Right,” you smiled, “Spencer.”
“Here, look,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket along with the note you left him, which was cute, considering it kept it on him for this long. He glanced at the note and quickly dialled your number. Your phone buzzed in your purse and you answered the call. “There, now you have my number.”
“Nice save, pretty boy,” you saved his number in your phone, typing his name into your phone along with a little heart. 
“...You look… very nice,” he said nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets.
You grinned coyly at him, “thank you. You look very handsome yourself. Though, I feel like you always look like that,” you flirted.
“I try to look presentable,” he replied, not really picking up on your flirting tone. “I have an important job.”
“Of course,” You laughed lightly, your fingers reaching up to gently fix his collar. Your fingers grazed the side of his neck and his breath caught in his throat, gulping back the lump of nervousness that formed. You were really pretty, someone he considered way out of his league. 
After you gave him your number, he spent the entire car ride back to the BAU staring at it, heart thumping loudly in his ears at the idea of seeing you again. He tried calling your number a couple of times and got nervous because he had no idea what to say. Would he ask you on a date? Obviously. But what do people do on dates? He had to be assertive, come up with something and be confident, but his mind went blank staring at your number. And wikihow really wasn’t helping.
“Hey guys, we’re off,” Emily walked over to you and Spencer at the bar. “Hotch’s hailing a cab.”
“Oh, right. Do you need a cab? I-I can cover it,” Spencer looked at you, reaching for his wallet.
“I live nearby actually, it’s just a couple blocks away. I’ll just walk,” you smiled. 
Emily frowned at you, “this late? That’s not safe.”
“I’ll walk her,” Spencer quickly said. “I’ll catch a cab from her place.”
“Oh, Spencer, you don’t have to do that,” you squeezed his forearm.
Spencer waved you off, “it’s safer if I walk you home.”
Emily glanced between the two of you with squinted eyes. She smiled cheekily, wiggling her brows at Spencer, “...be safe.”
Spencer scoffed at her implication, making you giggle. You picked your purse up off the bar stool and let Spencer lead you out of the bar. You said goodbye to Penelope and JJ, waving the rest of them down as Spencer waited for you to say goodbye.
“Keep him safe, pretty girl!” Derek called from the cab window.
“Will do!” You chuckled.
The more you thought about it, the more you realised it was probably a good idea Spencer was walking you home. You had learned a lot about your new home over the last 3 weeks but having Spencer, who you came to understand was a bit of a genius, proved to be very convenient. Spencer seemed to know where he was going more than you did, you just followed along next to him, your shoulders occasionally bumping. 
“How long have you been in the FBI?” You asked, linking your arm with his. He nervously let you do so but you could feel him tense under your touch. “This okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay… Uh, I’ve been in the FBI for four years, two months and two weeks exactly,” he replied, “...Eidetic memory, I tend to keep track of that kind of stuff.”
“Mmm, I’ve always had a thing for dorks,” you flirted with an airy laugh.
“I’m not a dork,” he retorted defensively through a laugh.
You looked up at him, “Only joking, Spence. Intelligence is attractive.”
He beamed internally at the nickname. Sure, JJ called him Spence, but it sounded like honey when you said it, made his heart race and his skin run hot. The two of you walked in comfortable silence and you yawned quietly, not realising how tired you were until you left the overstimulating environment of the bar.
He walked you up the steps of your apartment building, waiting for you to take out your card that let you into the building. You pulled the door open and Spencer reached to hold it open for you. You paused, turning to face him.
“Thank you for walking me home. I really appreciate it,” you smiled. 
“It’s okay, I wanted to make sure you were safe,” he replied, exuding a kind of nervousness he wasn’t before. 
You laughed lightly at how adorable he was before pressing up on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He tensed under your touch but soon relaxed. You pulled away and began laughing, “Oh shit, I got lipstick on your cheek.”
You pulled your sleeve over your finger and began smudging it away. Spencer suddenly grabbed your wrist softly, taking a deep breath of courage and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You barely had time to register it and as soon as it started it was over and he pulled away, cheeks red with embarrassment.
“I… I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “Shit-”
“Woah, Spence. It’s okay,” you grabbed his hands, trying to recapture his attention as his eyes stared at everything but you. “Hey.”
“I don’t know why I did that,” he laughed nervously.
“...Maybe you should kiss me again?” You suggested, doe eyes staring up at him. His breath caught in his throat as you leaned up again, arms hooking around his neck as your lips brushed his softly. Your voice was quiet when you spoke, “Do you want to kiss me again, Spencer Reid?”
“...Yeah,” he muttered out. You grinned before leaning in to kiss him, hands cupping his face as his hands landed on your waist nervously. He kissed you with a gentleness that left you dizzy. He was clearly nervous but you stroked his cheekbones with your thumbs as he deepened the kiss, tilting your head back like he wanted to consume you. 
He pulled away, forehead resting against yours. You laughed gently at the smear of lipstick over his lips, your thumb coming to rub it off as best you could.
“Mm, that colour suits you,” you chuckled. He let out a breath of a laugh as he pulled away from you, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “I don’t usually kiss men I haven’t even gone on a date with.”
“Well, I don’t kiss girls… end of sentence,” he replied.
You laughed at his response, unhooking your arms from his neck and stepping into your apartment building. “Well, you’re good at it, Spence. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Well… Will I see you some time?” 
“Call me back first,” you teased.
Spencer stared at the pavement and laughed nervously, letting you kiss his cheek one more time before you left him at the door of your apartment building, heading to the elevator. You waved at him as the elevator dinged and he waved back with a tight lip smile.
You leaned against the cool metal of the elevator wall, grinning like an idiot as you watched the numbers above the door light up. You suddenly felt your phone vibrating in your purse. You pulled it out, half expecting it to be your mother calling. You smiled as Spencer’s name appeared on your phone, you answered, holding it to your ear.
“Hi, Spencer.”
“Can I take you to dinner?” He asked, his voice breathless as you assumed he was trying to catch a cab. “Tomorrow night?”
“I’d love to,” you grinned.
“I’ll pick you up… maybe don’t wear a tank top.”
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a/n: kinda obsessed with these two, i'm creating a taglist if anyone wants on :) just send a message to my inbox <3
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niqhtlord01 · 5 months
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Humans are weird: The Scope of our Existence
Alien: *Goes for walk through park*
Alien: *Sees human friend sitting on bench near pond feeding strange animals with crumbs and goes over to them*
Alien: Greetings friend Jim.
Jim: *Turns head* Oh, hi Gilmek.
Alien: What are you doing?
Human: *Turns back to feeding animals* Pondering existence and my place in it.
Gilmek: *Confused* Is this a human joke?
Jim: No, I am being perfectly honest.
Gilmek: *Stares at animals, then back at Jim*
Gilmek: If that is true then why do you feed these creatures?
Jim: They’re called “Ducks”.
Gilmek: Why then do you feed these ducks if you are pondering such philosophical matters?
Jim: *Shrugs* It helps me put things into perspective for myself.
Gilmek: *Sits next to Jim* How so?
Jim: *Throws oats and watches ducks eat them up.*
Jim: What do you think of these birds?
Gilmek: *Watches ducks eat the oats* They seem primitive in nature, yet beautiful to look at.
Jim: They have been around far longer than the human species as a whole and predate many other species on our world.
Gilmek: And?
Jim: And they have largely remained the same for the last few thousand years compared to humanity.
Gilmek: I guess.
Gilmek: Different species progress along different points of development and evolution; yet your species has far outpaced their development so why compare to them?
Jim: Because if you take a human from three thousand years ago and drop them in today’s society, or handle it the other way around and drop someone from today three thousand years in the past; chances are high that they would not be able to survive.
Jim: But ducks?
Jim: You could drop a duck from today’s age five thousand years in the past and it would feel as at home as it does right now.
Jim: *Looks at Gilmek* How can we possibly compare to that?
Gilmek: *Opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself as he ponders the statement*
Jim: *Tosses more oats* “How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks…”
Gilmek: Did you make that?
Jim: *Shakes head*I’m not nearly as poetic.
Jim: A human author named Dorothy L. Sayers wrote that one.
Gilmek: They must be popular in this time for you to remember it.
Jim: They wrote it four thousand years ago in year of 1935 on my world.
Gilmek: *Looks at ducks again*
Gilmek: You humans have a somewhat disturbing and intriguing relation with your planets animals.
Jim: *Chuckles* You should see what we do with our cats?
Gilmek: Cats?
Jim: Furry creatures about yay high *holds hand below knee* and covered in fur.
Gilmek: How do you treat them?
Jim: We dedicated a few gods around them at one point.
Gilmek: ………
Jim: Come to think of it they may have never gotten over that with how they still treat us in return for our love.
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dustofthedailylife · 5 months
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Unaffected a teaching in humbling oneself
-> Masterlist || → Taglist
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Pairing: Dr. Ratio x (gn!) Reader
Summary: Ratio is quite aware of his dashing looks and intellect. If he so wanted, he could use it to his advantage whenever he pleased. That was until he met you, who seemed to be entirely unaffected by it.
Tags: Pining, Crack, unreciprocated feelings towards Ratio, someone give him a clown nose - he's making a fool of himself, written pre-release of character, short one-shot
A/N: L+Ratio to Dr. Ratio himself.
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Consider how the renowned Veritas Ratio would act if he had a crush on you.
No doubt, he was aware of his attractive appearance and masterful intellect. Why else would he only teach while wearing that accursed marble head? He's experienced it all too often that people stop paying attention to his teaching because they only get distracted by appearances. While conveying knowledge about science, it was nothing more than a nuisance to him.
He didn't want nor need hordes of students fawn over him. This still hadn't changed.
However, when you started working as his colleague at the same university one day, it was as if he had lost his composure for the first time in forever. Judging by your appearance, the Aeons themselves must have carved and sent you to smite him down. Let alone your wit and intellect. He was gone the minute he had first laid his eyes on you.
He absolutely wanted to get to know you better and make you fall for him how he fell for you when you first graced him with your presence.
There was just one problem - due to the boundaries he had set for himself, you had never seen his face. He never took the marble head off when he was at work. However, he was almost certain that, once he did so, you would fall for him the same way his students always did before he hid his face.
There was no way you wouldn't fall for a man of his caliber.
Self-assured and while putting on the most attractive smile he could muster he decided to take the mask off as casually as possible in front of you one day. He leaned against the wall beside you, eyeing you confidently. He was certain to see the stars of the galaxy sparkling back at him in your eyes. Your jaw would drop and you'd inch closer to him and then-
"You have something stuck between your teeth." You remarked unaffectedly as you motioned him to remove it.
You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sipped from it with an unwavering expression of apathy before lifting your eyebrows at him.
Why were you so unimpressed? Why didn't you fall for him yet? He was here. His handsome face exposed right in front of you in broad daylight. Were you not attracted to men, perhaps? No, that couldn't be. He happened to catch a conversation between you and another coworker about it. But why weren't you worshipping the ground he walked on yet?
"Is something the matter?" You poked quizically, noticing how his smile and his entire attitude and confidence had faltered and crumbled into dust in an instant.
"Huh? I j-just..." He stammered before hurriedly picking the piece of food out from in between his teeth.
This should've worked. His plan was flawless. Why did you not care about his dashing looks at all.
"Nothing." He said curtly, straightening himself up again to regain his composure.
"Alright." You nodded confusedly, forcing a smile and eyeing him as if he was completely insane.
The following weeks looked about the same. He tried to appear in front of you without the mask more and more often. He would try to initiate in talks and scientific discussions with you but you always seemed to end up annoyed by him. It was doing his head in what he could possibly be doing wrong - No. Surely, it wasn't his fault. It couldn't be.
That was until he overheard a conversation between you and another coworker.
"I have never seen him behave like that - let alone see him take his stone head off so often..." The coworker said puzzledly. "But I have to admit he is quite attractive."
"Pff, no way. Not with a character like that. Either way, I have no idea what his deal is." You sighed. "All I know is that he is grinding my gears with his big-headed attitude, ugh."
His heart dropped at your words. He had never heard that someone had perceived him this way.
Him? Big-headed? And you also don't find him attractive?
Maybe a change of plan was in order. Just... what was he doing wrong?
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Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about HSR or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
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lewisvinga · 5 months
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no me importa | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; when a recent video exposes y/n and lewis’ relationship, other people think they can comment on their age gap, but at the end of the day y/n and lewis will always love each other
fc; cindy kimberly
warnings; age gap , mentions of 18+ themes
notes; loosely based off of mayor que yo by wisin & yandel and mayor que usted by natti natasha, daddy yankee, wisin & yandel :p , also reader is kinda implied as latina but it’s not important
me 🤝 writing smau’s abt dating older men
masterlist !
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liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,020,047 others!
yourusername: made vegan alfredo for me n bae, definitely went into a food coma after
tagged; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco
lewishamilton: wifey material
yourusername: yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
lewishamilton: it was amazing, love ❤️
yourusername: i put my blood sweat n tears into that alfredo, it better have been damn well amazing😕 ( thank u love💗💗)
username: so this is a confirmation?
username: girl did u not see the video, they were shoving their tongue down each others throat ???😦😦
username: cute but age gap is still icky to me 😕
username: tbh dating someone 13 years older than me is weird asf 😭
rosecoelovescoco: thank’s you’s
yourusername: ur welcome if u stop chasing lunita around 😕
lewishamilton: he is just a baby!
yourusername: so is my gatita lunita , she’s a scaredy cat , literally !!😞
username: she’s so pretty in everything what😞
username: 😍😍😍
lilymhe: cook for me next? 😏😏
yourusername: give me the time n place😉
username: ok but her learning how to make vegan pasta for lewis?? is so??? cute ????🥹🥹
username: he’s a grown man n 13 years older, he can cook for himself
username: it’s never that serious
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liked by username, username, and 93,038 others!
f1upadates: Lewis Hamilton and Y/n L/n were both spotted at the British Fashion Awards after confirming their relationship. Thoughts on the new grid couple?
tagged; lewishamilton, yourusername
username: the fact she designed her outfit n did her hair and makeup 😩🙌
username: they’re such a good looking couple even if he’s like 13 years older than her 😭
username: i need her skincare routine!😩
username: be 13 years younger than your boyfriend helps!
username: she’s so desperate that she needs to date someone older than her? how embarrassing 💀💀
username: her parents must be so disappointed…
username: why? shes a model w her own fashion line dating a 7x (8x) world champion, they’ll be fine😭
username: y’all coming at her for dating someone older like you wouldn’t date your faves who are also older!! she’s just living the y/n life
username: REAL
yourusername posted to their story!
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trans. for lyrics ; and i don’t care if i’m younger than you
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liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 1,230,937 others!
lewishamilton: heard she likes señores [sirs]
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: sir lewis hamilton 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
landonorris: i can’t take you calling him sir every 5 seconds pls stop i beg
georgerussell63: ‘yes, sir’ THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE ( lando )
landonorris: wait-
yourusername: sorry not sorry, unless you’re a sir you wouldn’t get it 😁
lewishamilton: what she said😁
yourusername: mi amor, te quiero 💗 [my love, i love you]
lewishamilton: i love you🩷
username: idk if i want him or her tbh🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️
username: she’s so😍😍
username: i’d call him sir any day i get her fr
username: they’re such an attractive couple😩
username: how’d lewis bag her im being so fr
username: bc they’re both fine as fuck 😍
username: mis padres [my parents]
username: mami y papi fr [mommy & daddy]
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liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,023,044 others!
yourusername: no me importa q usted sea mayor q yo. [i don’t care if you’re older than me]
tagged; lewishamilton
lewishamilton: wait, when did you take the second picture?
yourusername: baby i got a whole folder of those type of pictures, i take them every chance i get
username: SHARE W THE PUBLIC HELLO??
yourusername: y/n.jpg but it’s just pics of lewis’ back
lewishamilton: i love you❤️
yourusername: i love youuuu💗
username: the hand pics i’m going insane 😵‍💫🥴
username: ou that back pic, i’m going ferallll
lilymhe: omg bae stop posting pics of me 🙈🙈🙈
yourusername: ur too cute my bad😪
lewishamilton: stop stealing my gf
alex_albon: gf stealer !
username: the 3rd pic🥹🥹
username: yall need a third??
username: i can take them both ( not in a fight )
georgerussell63: if only he could look at me like he looked at u in the last picture 🕊️🕊️🕊️
lewishamilton: i will if you look like y/n
yourusername: my bad i’m too cute 😁
carmenmmundt: merc double dates now??
yourusername: uh duh, merc wags stick together 🫶
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
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F.I.N.E || MV1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x teacher!reader Summary: When your student gets injured and you can’t get hold of her parents you try call an old contact number hoping he can help. Warnings: slight angst, fluff WC: 3.4K
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Max frowned at the unfamiliar number calling him. If it wasn’t for the fact it was a local number he would have ignored it but since few people had his personal number he decided to answer it. Immediately he was hit with the sound of high pitch cries and a soothing voice softly singing a lullaby that eased the knot of anxiety that had formed in an instant. 
“Hello, is this Max?” you asked when you realised the dual tone had stopped and the call had been answered. You shifted the child carefully on your lap and grabbed the old enrolment form to see the name again. “Max Verstappen?”
“Maxy?” the girl in your arms echoed with confusion.
“Yes, who is this?”
“Miss Y/L/N, I’m one of Penelope’s teachers. There’s been an incident and I found your number under her emergency contact list.”
“Oh no, sorry, there must be a mistake. You should call her mother or father. I’m not, we’re not, um, I shouldn’t be on that list anymore.”
You cringed as another piercing cry deafened your ear and you rubbed the little girl's back. “It hurts,” she whimpered.
“I know, sweetheart, someone will be here to get you shortly,” you replied softly and you hoped it was the truth. “Look, Max, I’ve tried every other contact number and no one is answering. Is there any way you could come down here? At least until I can get in touch with someone else.”
Max pinched the bridge of his nose but when he heard P’s shuddering cry he knew he had to go. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”
Max didn’t care if he got a parking ticket, he took the loading space right outside the preschool building. He likely would have gotten a speeding ticket too in his rush to cross the city but thankfully there weren’t any police in his path. 
“Maxy!” 
Penelope wriggled in your arms as she spotted the stranger walking into the classroom. His eyes immediately found her and he crossed the space to where you sat holding her.
“Hey, P,” he greeted with a smile and knelt down at your height. “What’s happened, bug?”
Her little eyes welled up again as she lifted her bandaged wrist. “I fell off the playground.”
“I don’t think anything is broken but I would suggest having her doctor check to be sure.”
“I don’t know who her doctor is. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”
“You’re contact details were-”
“Those must have been from when she started. Her mother and I haven’t been together for a while.”
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry to put this on you. I swear I tried every other phone number we have.”
Max nodded and his sigh sounded exhausted as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just need to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute, bug.”
Max walked along the room, looking over the children’s artwork as he pressed his phone to his ear and waited. Eventually the call went to voicemail and his spine straightened tensely. “Kel, I’ve picked up P from daycare and I’m taking her to the hospital. Call me when you get this.”
You could see the man was stressed when he returned and his short hair pointed in all directions from the hand he kept nervously running through it. It was cute.
“Daniil is in Italy this week for work,” Max said as he returned to your side and picked up Penelope’s Prada backpack before opening his arms. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of Kelly. Come on, bug.”
Lunchtime was coming to an end and children were starting to file back into the room, a few of the older ones stopping at staring wide eyed at Max. He was tall but not that tall or formidable to draw such a reaction but your question was answered when one of the boys ran to his picture on the wall. Timothée unpinned the drawing of a race car and ran up to Max, holding it out with a pencil.
“Sir, can you please sign this?”
Max looked used to the attention and took the pen with a polite, “Sure.” He stared at the picture for the moment after signing it and chuckled. “Is the RB20?”
Timothée nodded eagerly. “It’s my favourite.”
“Mine too,” he said as handed the picture back and smiled as it was crushed happily to the boy's chest. Max then carefully picked up Penelope, slowly so she wasn’t jostled, and his arms brushed yours. 
“If you need anything you have my number,” you reminded as the weight was lifted from your lap. “Children can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”
Max smiled fondly at Penelope and shook his head. “This isn’t new. I still have her room set up.”
“You do?” Penelope asked hopefully and Max turned his head as he cursed to himself. “Are we going to live with you again?”
“No, no, sorry, P,” he said softly. “I just haven’t had time to redecorate.”
“Oh.” You both winced at the defeated tone and you knew the fresh tears had nothing to do with her arm this time but you were saved by the bell as it spurred Max to toss the bag over his shoulder and look to the door.
“I hope you feel better soon, Penelope.”
“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.”
“Thank you,” Max echoed with a nod before departing.
All afternoon you were distracted with thoughts of the two of them until the final bell rang and you grabbed your phone. You had sporadically tried to contact Daniil and Kelly again but the calls went straight to voicemail every time and you found no returned calls.
Y/N: How is Penelope? Max: She is happy watching The Little Mermaid. She has a sprained wrist and the nurse complemented the bandaging so you should be proud. Y/N: And how are you? Max: I’m fine.
Max swore as the pot of water boiled over and he hissed as he grabbed the handle to find it was just as hot. He dropped his phone reaching for the teatowel and then P started calling out from the living room complaining that the movie was boring - the same movie she watched a thousand times and she had specifically asked for.
Y/N: My mentor used to tell me that stood for: freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Are you sure you are fine?
After turning the stove down to a simmer and wiping up the mess of water that had splashed across his floor he went and changed the movie to what would hopefully last longer than ten minutes before she changed her mind. Taking another attempt at making dinner, he grabbed a bag of pasta from his pantry and poured its entirety into the pot.
Max: I’m thinking I am definitely neurotic and possibly starting to freak out. Y/N: I couldn’t have that on my conscience. My offer still stands if you need some help. Max: You don’t have anyone you need to get home to? Y/N: My cat prefers his own company unless he’s hungry and he’s already been fed today so no. Max: I don’t want you to go out of your way. Y/N: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to follow through. Let me help. Please?
Max smiled at his phone before sending his address and looking around to see how tidy the place was. His jacket was tossed on the table instead of being hung up and Penelope’s bag was spilled across the entryway floor, not the first impression he wanted to make.
You entered the port address into your phone and locked the classroom behind you, feeling a little unsteady at the thought of seeing Max again. Penelope was a sweet child and she seemed comfortable with Max but you hadn’t really ever heard her talk about him before. You told yourself the only reason you were going there was to check on your student's wellbeing, but a small part of you wanted to see Max again.
You wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard your knock on the door or that you had the wrong apartment and you rapped your knuckles on it again before he called out. There was a crash and then a groan close to the door before it swung open and Max balanced on one leg.
“Uh, is everything okay?” you asked as he clutched his foot.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he rushed before he caught the teasing curl of your brow and he froze before a smile grew on his lips. “Right, freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”
“You’re a quick learner.” You stepped inside at his invitation and he closed the door behind you while you rushed towards the burning smell in the kitchen. “Oh, wow.”
“Fucksake,” Max grumbled as he grabbed a wet tea towel before reaching for the tray of garlic bread in the oven. “Ouch, shit!”
“You said a naughty word,” Penelope called out from the next room like it was something that she regularly commented on. “That's another 20.”
Max sighed heavily as he looked at a jar on the bench that was already filled with cash. “Shit.”
“I heard that.”
“Shouldn’t you be watching your movie?”
You giggled at the amusing conversation before turning the tap to cold and taking Max’s hand. “Wet towels and hot trays make steam.”
He watched you guide his hand under the water and flinched as it hit the burn mark on his palm. “I don’t usually cook, if you couldn’t tell.”
“The life of a bachelor. Keep your hand there.” You moved with ease around his kitchen trying to save what was left of dinner but paused at a huge pot of pasta that had swelled up and pushed the lid half off. “Are you expecting a dozen other people?”
Max shrugged innocently. “I didn’t know how much to put in.”
“Well the good news is the top half is edible,” you stated after finding a colander and draining the pasta until only a thick layer remained stuck to the bottom of the pot. “Do you have any sauce?”
“Sauce?”
“What were you going to have with it?”
“Garlic bread.” You both looked at the charred sticks still smoking on the baking tray.
“Do you mind?” you asked as you pointed to his fridge and the cupboards around the kitchen.
“No, please. Go ahead.”
You checked the fridge first and you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. “Do you live off salads or does all this go to waste?”
“Neither, my nutritionist comes by twice a week and he prepares the meals.”
For a moment you had forgotten his profession. You had googled his name after Timothée couldn’t stop talking about meeting the ‘Max Verstappen’. “That must be intense, and restricting. Does your social life suffer?”
“It’s not so bad. I still get to go out for dinner and have a few drinks when I want.” He started to pull his hand out from under the water but you tutted and caught his wrist, holding it back beneath the cold stream.
“Keep still,” you warned with a voice you saved for children who weren’t listening. “It needs 20 minutes under there.”
“You want me to stand here for twenty minutes?”
“No, science wants you to stay there for twenty minutes.”
“Are you a teacher or a nurse?” he asked with a playful roll of his eyes.
“Depends if it's halloween.”
His loud laugh made you smile and you eased your grip on his hand one finger at a time to see if he would stay where he was. He did. “I’ll behave, Miss Y/L/N.”
“You can call me Y//N.”
“I kind of like calling you Miss Y/L/N.”
You checked to see if he was serious but thankfully there was a teasing smile on his face before you returned to the fridge to gather some ingredients.
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By some small miracle dinner can’t have been too bad since everyone cleaned their plates of the pasta, though you thought they were likely being polite since you could still taste the hint of smoke from the bottom of the pan. Penelope had spent most of the meal asking Max if he remembered what they used to do when she lived there, how they used to go travelling and shopping. You got to see first hand how much patience the man had as he answered each question despite how it made him uncomfortable.
“You miss her,” you commented after she had gone back to the tv. Max started to collect the dishes with you and sighed as he placed them in the sink. 
“It was a big change when they moved out,” he spoke quietly and you stepped closer so you could hear better. “She kept asking if she did something wrong.”
“That must have been hard for you.” His eyes widened and you wondered what shocked him, but you had a feeling it was the fact someone showed concern for him. Even though you didn’t know the details of the break up, it was clear he had and still did care for Penelope and you felt sorry for him. “Can I hug you? I’m a hugger and I feel like you could really do with one.”
“You want to hug me?”
You tried to shrug it off casually. “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everyone needs a hug sometime.”
“I do,” he said quickly, very quickly, before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I-I wouldn’t mind a hug.”
You smiled at his tentativeness and stepped into his personal space, slipping your hands into the narrow openings between his limp arms and his body to curl around his waist. It took a moment for him to respond before his own arms embraced the comfort and curled around your back too.
“You smell really good, Max,” you complimented as you rested your head on his chest and caught the scent of his cologne.
“Thank you,” he chuckled, the amusement relaxing him even more until his entire body curved into yours. “I think you have playdough in your hair.”
You hummed in agreement. “Highly likely. You wouldn’t believe the places I find that stuff at the end of the day, glitter too.”
His bold laugh made you smile and you didn’t care it was at your own expense, you were just happy to know it was because of you. Unfortunately you didn’t have the chance to hear it again as his phone rang from the countertop and you saw Kelly’s name light up the screen.
“I should let you get that,” you said as you stepped back, instantly missing the warmth and his scent. “I’ll go keep Penelope company.”
Max waited for you to leave the kitchen before he accepted the call, his calm state evaporating in an instant. “What the hell, Kelly? Where have you been?”
“My phone was on flight mode, I was on a plane. Is P okay?”
“Her wrist is sprained but she’s alright now.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself to breathe. “Why would you leave her alone?”
“She wasn’t alone. Maria was meant to pick her up after school and I should have been home in time for dinner but my flight was delayed.”
“Who is Maria?”
“Her nanny.”
Max had to suppress the groan at the news. He knew Daniil hated the idea of a nanny and he had offered to have more custody so that P would be raised by her parents and not a stranger, but Kelly had vetoed that idea.
“Do you want to go out for dinner? I owe you.”
“No, we’ve already eaten.”
“Some other time then.”
Max made a non-committal sound, his eyes darting to the living room where he watched Penelope explain the movie to you. You were so attentive and patient, asking questions that had Penelope thinking deeper and using such a simple interaction as a learning opportunity. He could see why you suited being a teacher.
“Maybe,” he lied, “just let me know when you’re almost here and I’ll bring P out to you, I don’t want to confuse her any more.”
“Right, of course,” Kelly sighed. “I’ll see you soon, Max.”
Max made the most of the time he had left with P, abandoning the dishes so he could sit on the other side of her and watch the movie about a chef rat. She had cozied into his side with a yawn and nudged his arm until he eventually draped it over her shoulder. It was completely innocent but you couldn’t help noticing the heat of his hand touching your arm, the warmth spreading like wildfire.
The fire was doused when his phone vibrated and the moment to leave had come.
While he grabbed Penelope’s backpack, you grabbed your handbag and prepared your own goodbyes. It was silly to feel sad the evening had come to an end but you knew that you would likely never see Max again. You weren’t famous and he didn’t have children, your paths weren’t meant to cross.
“Have a good weekend, Penelope,” you said as you knelt down and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”
“Bye, Miss Y/L/N.”
You rose to your feet wondering where you stood with Max until he opened his arms. “Anytime you need a hug, you have my number,” you offered as you stepped into his embrace, no matter how unlikely that prospect was.
“Or if I’m feeling fine?”
You giggled and nodded against his chest. “Especially if you’re feeling fine.”
The walk to the elevator was slow, as if no one wanted the strange evening to end, but there was no stopping time as it began making its way down from the penthouse to the ground floor. The doors opened and you instantly spotted Kelly in the reception area, her elegant and effortless beauty reminding you that you still had playdough in your hair.
With one last look at the man beside you, you gave him a small smile and stepped away. “Goodbye, Max.”
He didn’t respond as you headed to the valet area but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and yours vibrated a moment later.
Max: Are you okay?
Y/N: I’m fine.
Max: Me too. Emotional, you?
Y/N: Insecure.
Max: Want a hug?
You stopped and turned to see Max hand Penelope’s bag over before struggling to separate the girl from where she clung to his leg. She didn’t know, couldn’t see how it was hurting Max, but you could. So you waited, and when the mother and daughter had departed you stepped into the elevator with the subdued man, slipping your hand into his.
The elevator rose quickly and you watched Max’s throat bounce with the deep swallow he made before he choked out a broken, “Fuck.”
“I feel like I should remind you about the swear jar,” you teased as you bumped your shoulder gently against his arm. “But I’ll let you off this once because I have a soft spot for you.”
He looked down at you from the corner of his eye and you saw some of the sadness fading from them. “Does that make me the teacher's pet?”
You gasped dramatically and clutched your chest with your free hand. “I could never bestow such high praise after just one day.”
“What are your plans tomorrow then?” he asked with a smirk as the doors opened and he pulled his house key out of his pocket.
“I don’t have any.”
“Lovely, now are you going to answer my question?” He stepped inside the apartment and opened his arms. “Did you want a hug?”
Your smile chased away more of the shadows in his eyes and the last of it was erased when you stepped into his arms with an eager nod. “I will never say no to a hug.”
His chest bounced with a laugh and you felt him rest his cheek on your head with a contented sigh. “That is very good to know.”
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ln444 · 6 months
Text
my english love affair
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cw: MDNI+18, f!reader, strangers to lovers, soulmates au, fluff, smut, maybe slight angst? depends on how you see it lol, fingering (f), penetration, soft dirty talk, a lot (like a lot) of kissing and sharing long gazes, whipped lando again bc im obsessed sorry.
now playing: english love affair by 5sos, let me by zayn.
notes: omg this took so long 😭 i'm not really confident abt my smut, i feel like i'm writing fluff way better but i hope you like it!! i might write a part 2, let me know if you like this one! enjoy🤍
requested by anon | requests open!
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“when the lights go out, she's all i ever think, i can't forget my english love affair, today i'm seven thousand miles away”
the thought of finally going back to his f1 driver life fills lando with excitement. sure, lando loves england — it's his home, after all. but nothing can compare to the rush he feels when he's in an f1 car, traveling all around the world and meeting his fans.
for his last night town, lando's friends convinced him to hit the club. normally, he prefers staying in to rest before the start of the season but a little fun doesn't hurts, right? he won't have much time to do it during the grand prix.
despite his fame, lando still gets surprised when someone recognizes him, especially at the club. he knows he's known for his looks, and he's aware of the attention from admirers, but it still catches him off guard in real life. sometimes, the attention can be overwhelming, especially when he just wants to have a good time with his friends and ends up with some overly clingy girls.
lando decides to excuse himself, seeking some fresh air. the pressure of the coming season is getting to him, and the situation doesn't help. he finds a quiet spot with a few people smoking and making out, leans against the wall, and closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a relieved sigh.
suddenly, a voice startles him from his thoughts, "did your friends force you to come here too?" his head jerks towards you, and you're standing beside him, out of nowhere. he takes time to answer, surprised by your unexpected presence. after realizing that he left you without any response, he clears his throat, a bit confused, "nah, just needed some fresh air" he mumbles, a small smile forming on his lips. you chuckle slightly, and comment "not surprised, having so many girls fawning over you must be exhausting", there's a small hint of tease in your voice that makes lando's smile grows.
finally, as he turns to study your features under the soft glow of the night lights, lando finds himself entranced by your captivating beauty, the grace of your features leaving an indelible impression on him. he can't help but get lost in your eyes shining in the dim illumination, making it difficult for him to look away. it takes him a good minute to quickly look away, thanking the night for hiding his rosé cheeks.
he gazes at the sky, trying to think of something to say that doesn't sound awkward — and also trying to get his shit together. he suddenly feels the need to make a good impression. "i mean, it's not that i don't appreciate the attention, but wow, they can be quite persistent."
his hands find their way into the pockets of his jacket, and his eyes avoid meeting yours, fearing he might get lost in them again. "yeah, i know. they're my friends," you say with a small chuckle, not because he's making fun of them, but more because of the use of the term 'friends.'
lando's eyes widen, and he turns to you, 'i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-' but he stops himself, looking down, feeling too embarrassed to find the right words. you laugh softly and move closer to him, your shoulders brushing and lando can feel his body tense up due to the closeness.
"hey, it's okay. i don't really consider them my friends, anyway," you say nonchalantly and lando lets out a sigh of relief, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "wow, that's nice for them", you both laugh and lando doesn't miss the way you subtly lean into him, your shoulders finally touching. he turns his head away from you, clearing his throat once more, trying to control the warmth spreading through his body.
"hey", you suddenly call out after a minute of tranquil silence and lando dares to meet your gaze, instantly regretting when he's captivated by your radiant eyes. he finds himself unable to look away and you both share an intense, unspoken connection, as if you've known each other for years. everything feels perfectly right at this moment.
"wanna get out of here?" you finally suggest, your words barely more than a whisper, your focus entirely on lando's mesmerizing eyes. you take his hand, both fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces and you let him drag you in the dark streets.
after a walk filled with stolen gaze and silly conversations, you found yourself on lando's couch, engrossed in his f1 souvenirs and you have never felt so much passion, feeling your heart soften every time your see that sparkles in his eyes. lando never thought that his night will end up like this. sure, he might ended up with a girl from the club like he usually do, but this time was different. he never really experienced this; having sweet and innocent conversations with a stranger from a club. the atmosphere is tranquil yet there's a subtle tension in the air.
lando couldn't help but be his flirty self, playfully teasing you from time to time. however, your responses makes him somewhat nervous — it's a new sensation to him, having a girl making him feel this way. perhaps it's the way you gazes at him with patience and attention, your lovely smile that you share generously with him or how closely you listen to his random f1 stories. lando and you end up scrolling through photos in his phone, with him recounting the stories behind each one. he couldn't help but feel his heart melt your reactions; your smiles, your laughs, and your curiosity as you ask for more details and share your own anecdotes.
a soothing silence descended, and the two of you sit beside each other, thighs and shoulders lightly touching. lando struggles to contain the fluttering feeling in his stomach when you turn to look at him. he dares to meet your gaze, trying to focus on your eyes rather than your enticing lips. lost in each other eyes, you can't tear your gazes away. a brand new emotion envelops both of you, one that's strangely familiar yet undeniably unique, as though destiny has brought you together in this very moment and lando can't help but wonder if soulmates might actually exist.
you finally speak, after what feels like an eternity, in a soft voice, "you can kiss me, lando", you whisper like it's a secret. lando stomach tighten and he don't even take the time to answer, gently placing his hand on your cheek to pull you for a shy kiss. your lips discover each other, timidly and your hands instinctively slides around his neck to pull him closer.
you can't seem to get enough of each other, savoring every moment as you explore each other's mouths. lando's hand venture on your hips, and the chill of his touch sends shivers down your spine, as you suppress a soft moan in your throat. the kiss grows more intense, both of you yearning for more. without the need for words, you share an unspoken understanding of each other's needs, as if you've been intimately connected for ages. out of breath, you both finally pull away, foreheads touching, sharing a playful gaze, giggling and blushing like teenagers experiencing their very first kiss.
after one last sweet peck on the lips, lando takes your hand and stands, guiding you towards the bedroom, careful not to stumble due to both your impatience and the lingering dizziness of that passionate kiss.
not wasting time, he gently guides you onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you. he can't resist the urge to pause and admire you, your eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the dim lights. before he gets lost in that gaze, his eyes roam to study every detail of your face, causing you to blush and squirm beneath him. your arms tighten around his neck, and you chuckle, bringing lando back to the present. "like what you see?" you whisper, stealing a smile from him as he draws closer, his lips teasingly brushing against yours. "oh, absolutely," he murmurs before capturing your lips in a kiss. this time, it feels different; electrifying.
lando's hands slips, beneath your dress, and this time a whimper escapes your lips, making lando smirk through the kiss. his hands dares to explore the skin of your thighs, creating an unusual feeling in your stomach — and making your pussy slightly throb. your fingers finds their way into his curls, gripping onto them as the kiss becomes messier; your tongues dancing together.
"just take it off already" you huff and puff, seeing lando struggling and he lets out a chuckle "damn, someone is impatient", he says, teasing you, before finally taking your dress off. his eyes travel your body, and you've never felt so vulnerable, your cheeks burning. lando let out an unwanted groan, completely loving the view and he stares a bit too long until you pull him for another kiss to put him out of his thoughts. he takes a moment to kiss you back and it's your turn to slide your hands beneath his shirt, playing with the lines of his abdomen, making him moan softly against your lips.
after a good minute of kissing and touching, you finally take off his shirt and his pants, on the way, leaving you both in your underwear. lando leaves kisses along your jawline, going down to your chest, his hand sliding in your back to unbutton your bra and the way your boobs bounce out of it makes lando groan, feeling his erection grows. your grip on his hair gets tighter as you watch him play with your nipples, flicking it and licking it and the view drives you crazy.
you moan his name softly, pulling on his hair to make him look at you and you share a long stare, full of lust, both craving for more. you pull him for a sloppy kiss, trying to show how impatient you are and lando gets the message, pulling down your panties and getting rid of his boxers.
lando's mouth leaves yours and is replaced by his fingers, stealing a whimper from you. your eyes meets his as you suck on his fingers and, if they could, his eyes would burn holes into yours. lando found himself getting more and more impatient, the way you suck on his fingers with that irresistible look making it harder for him to contain it.
pulling out his fingers out of your mouth and without leaving your eyes for a second, his two fingers found your hole, slipping gently in it and you throw instinctively your head backwards, a moan escaping your mouth. lando take a good look at you in that position before taking the opportunity to leave kisses on your exposed neck, fighting the urge to suck on it to not leave marks, not wanting to overstep your boundaries.
"feeling okay?" he whispers softly, his breath hitting your skin, making it difficult for you to fight the whimpers escaping your mouth. lando takes a minute to look at you, to make sure that you don't feel any pain or discomfort.
"mmh'yes, you can move, please oh my god" you desperately says and lando can't help but pull you for another messy kiss. his fingers start moving in you, stretching your walls and you become a moaning mess, your eyes closing and lando takes advantage of it to admire you, his moves getting faster and faster.
"are you close, princess?" he murmurs close to your lips, feeling your body trembling and hearing the way your moans gets louder. you can only shake your head; feeling the bottom of your stomach getting warmer and the nickame almost make you choke on your moans. lando slows down to make scissors movements, his thumb rubbing your clit to help you reach your climax. he can't take off his eyes of you, inspecting every aspect of your face; the way your face crunches and your mouth is slightly open to let multiple sounds out of it. he could almost come just by this sight, his own crotch getting bigger.
with a loud and long moan, you finally climax, arching your back and lando plant soft pecks on your neck, whispering sweet words to you and telling you how good you're doing. breathless, you absently stroke his hair and close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the beat of your heart but lando makes it hard; his hands traveling your body and his lips attached to the skin of your neck.
the sudden emptiness when lando pulls out his fingers make you whimper and he lift his head to meet your gaze — he lost count of how many times he got lost in your eyes tonight. your hand make its way to his cock and the sudden touch makes lando slightly startle, a groan leaving his mouth. before you start stroking it, his hand comes to stop you immediately and you look at him, confused and with a hint of worry; silently asking him if you did something wrong.
"wanna fuck you now or i might go crazy", he says, almost whimpering and you slightly laugh, pulling his face closer to yours. "someone is impatient huh", you tease, a small smirk forming on your lips and he can't help but mirror that smirk. "how can i not when you look at me like that?" he takes your bottom lip between his teeth before kissing you again, his body getting closer and his cock brushing on your pussy makes you both moan through the kiss. you take his dick, once again, in your hand to guide it through your hole this time. and slowly, he penetrates you, a long groan escaping his lips at how tight you feel around him and you break the kiss to moan loudly.
"so fucking tight, baby, just for me", he mumbles close to your lips and you can't even answer, too overwhelmed by the way he's filling you — and his dirty words. when you finally adjust, he doesn't waste any minutes and start moving. you both moan in unison, holding into each other like your life depends on it. he watches you go crazy over his cock; the way your eyes gets watery, the way you hold into the sheets — your other hand too busy pulling his hair —, the way you can't control the continuous moans, his name slipping out of your mouth from time to time and encouraging him to go deeper into you. and he does go deeper, slowing down the pace to thrust into you as deep as he can, reaching your sensitive spot.
"right here? like that, baby?" he moans, feeling you tightening around him. his voice makes it harder for you to hold your growing orgasm. your hand leaves the sheets to hold onto his shoulder, your nails crawling into his skin. lando suddenly feels the urge to look at you in the eyes — maybe because his orgasm is getting close too. his hand finds a way to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it gently "look at me, angel", he says in a husky voice that could make you come at any moment. struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to hold his gaze, the way he's looking at you making you insane.
his thrusts gets faster and you can't control the sounds escaping from your mouth anymore. you look away for a moment, too overwhelmed and lando's hand travels to your face, cupping it gently to keep it straight "eyes on me, love". you obey, meeting his gaze and it's all too much for you.
you don't even have to use words for lando to understand that you're getting close, the way your eyes gets watery and your body shakes is enough. with his hand going back to your throat, lando accompany you into your orgasm, enjoying the way you scream his name and you manage to hold his gaze. his own orgasm comes a few minutes after yours and he makes sure to pull out before ejaculating, his groans echoing in the room. he immediately falls besides you and you both just stay like this: his leg over yours, your hand still in his hair as you try to catch your breath. lando uses his last drops of strength to grab a tissue from the nightstand and clean his fresh cum on your stomach.
he pulls you close again, linking your legs together and letting you play with his hair. the silence is so peaceful; the warm of your bodies making you both relax immediately. a smile unconsciously forms on lando's lips at the sight of your tired face, your eyes shining in the almost dark atmosphere of the night. you look back at him, smiling back and giggling, making lando raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"what's so funny?" he says, fighting the smile growing on his lips. "i just slept with the lando norris", you tease and lando groans, hiding his face in his arm. "i knew you were a fan!" he replies playfully, playing along. you laugh in sync and lando's heart feels at peace; all the worries about the incoming season completely forgotten. your hand gently plays with his curls as you absently stare at the ceiling, an unbeatable smile on your face.
lando, on the other side, can't take his eyes off you, watching you slowly fall asleep and enjoying your fingers in his hair. and just before you completely close your eyes, you turn to him, offering him a last kiss; so tender and passionate that your hearts both might burst out of your chests. pulling out, lando watches you fall asleep, not fighting the smile on his face anymore.
he usually struggles to sleep before an important day but this time, his mind is only filled with you and this night spent by your side. and just like that, it's lando's turn to meet the sandman.
-
with a groan, lando struggles to reach and silence the blaring alarm. the morning sunlight aggressively shines through the curtain, making him shield his face with his arm, staying in half asleep state for a minute as he gradually gets out of it.
then it suddenly hits him; you're no longer beside him.
lando suddenly starts to panic, jolting him into full wakefulness. he springs out of the bed and desperately search for any signs of you in every room of his apartment but you're nowhere to be found. he mutters curses under his breath, passing a hand to his messy hair — the thought of you messing his hair last night making him even more frustrated. defeated, he returns to the bedroom, his gaze falling on the tousled sheets where everything happened. as lando realizes that he didn't even ask for your name, frustration festered within him, causing him to clench his hair.
however, amidst his self reproach, a small piece of paper on the nightstand catch his attention, and he immediately rushes to it.
"we will meet again, i promise. you're going to kill it, lovely boy. y/n, x"
lando can't even fight the smile creeping on his lips, his heart softening — it was beating way too fast just by the thought of not even knowing your name. he sinks back onto the bed, your smell immediately hitting him and making him even happier. he reads those few words repeatedly and his hands falls onto his chest, holding the paper close to his heart as he whispers your name again and again, savoring its melodious sound. lando can't help but tell himself that soulmates might exist.
"i am going to kill it,", lando murmured to himself, a foolish grin etching on his face.
______________________________________________
part 2?:p join the tag list here!
masterlist
1K notes · View notes
d10nyx · 2 months
Text
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don't hold your breath(nobody's home)
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk
a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3
word count: 1.9k words
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Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.
He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.
Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.
He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.
Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.
He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.
He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.
Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.
You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.
Fuck this.
He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.
“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 
He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.
“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.
“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”
Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.
Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.
You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”
He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.
“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”
There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?
He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.
“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.
You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.
“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.
“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”
Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.
“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.
“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.
“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”
“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”
That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.
“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”
Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.
He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.
“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.
When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.
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ellecdc · 2 months
Note
Hi! I’ve never requested to anyone before, but I really love how you write Regulus. Could I request an arranged marriage with Regulus, where Regulus was head over heels for Reader at Hogwarts but kept her at arm’s length knowing he was bound to an arranged marriage? And him not knowing what to do now that they are finally married. With a calm and observant Reader. I hope it’s not too much trouble 😬😊Thank you!
such a sweet idea! thanks for your request!! I hope you do again 🫶
The Arranged Marriage of Regulus' Dreams
Regulus Black x fem!reader - arranged marriage (no Voldemort AU)
“You’re fucking with me.” Regulus hissed to Narcissa as he watched you and your parents walk through the door of 12 Grimmauld Place.
Narcissa smirked and nudged her younger cousin out into the hall. “Nope, now go on cousin, say hello to your fiancée.”
Regulus thought he was dreaming. No. Certainly he was dead. Would he have gotten into heaven though? Surely not. But if he wasn’t in heaven, then what were you doing here?!
“Mr. L/N, Mrs. L/N. Miss. L/N.” Walburga Black greeted the family as the Black family house Elf, Kreacher, took their outer robes.
“Ah, not Miss. L/N for much longer though.” Your father laughed as he jostled your shoulder a little too roughly, causing you to teeter slightly in your heels.
Regulus wanted to kill him.
“Of course! Tomorrow’s the big day, hm? The most important moment in a young woman’s life.” Orion Black proclaimed as he ushered everyone into the dining room. Regulus noticed your slight grimace at his father’s words, but your face softened as you made eye contact with him.
He smiled softly and bowed his head, taking your hand in his to place a chaste kiss to your knuckles – just like a proper pureblood heir ought to when meeting their betrothed.
Regulus had no idea it was you he was bound to marry. 
Most noble and high-ranking pureblood families partook in arranged marriages. The heir of the family was the most important – most coveted. Regulus wasn’t always the heir – so his engagement wasn’t announced to him until his 5th year – the year that Sirius ran away from home.
The Black’s were readying their new heir; getting their affairs in order.
Regulus could admit that he didn’t really agree with everything his parents stood for. Sirius may have been able to escape his parent’s clutches, but Regulus wasn’t as lucky. 
He found the idea of arranged marriage to be a little archaic, but he was nothing if not a loyal, devoted son. No matter how much it hurt. 
No matter. Regulus understood his duty.
He had been crushing hard on this pretty witch in the year below him at Hogwarts for years, but he never felt confident enough to act on it. By the time he was confident enough to act on it – he’d been promised to someone else, so he never ended up pursuing it. What was the point of falling in love when you were bound to be married for business?
And here that witch was…with her parents…in his home…the evening before his wedding…as his bride. 
No…certainly this was a prank. A joke. A stroke? He was dead. In heaven? Maybe this was his hell.
He must have been running on autopilot, because suddenly he was seated beside you at the formal dining room after he had tucked your chair in under you, listening to the adults the parents discuss business.
He didn’t feel much like an adult right now.
He felt like a prepubescent schoolboy with a crush. 
How humiliating. 
“So, Orion and I will be leaving tomorrow immediately after the wedding.” Walburga announced. “Regulus will be the official head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black along with his wife Y/N, and we will leave the affairs to them.”
“What are your plans for after the wedding?” You father asked Walburga.
Regulus wanted to roll his eyes. Isn’t that the kind of question people are meant to ask the bride and groom?
“Where’s the honeymoon? What are your plans afterwards? Where will you be living? Do you plan on having kids?” 
Regulus had to stop his train of thought – getting a little too excited thinking about his marriage…to you.
Surely he was dead. Surely.
“We have a few properties in France.” Orion interjected before Walburga continued.
“We’ll be residing in a vineyard in the South of France. Retirement will be good for Orion.”
“How lovely. You’re resigning from your position in the Wizengamot?” Your mother inquired.
You and Regulus shared a look and a shy smile before returning to your plates.
“Regulus will be overtaking my position in the courts, as well as the Black’s affairs in the Ministry. We donate a lot of money to keep that government running.” Orion stated proudly. Regulus fought the urge to grimace. 
“It’s a good thing too – Salazar knows that place would be run by mudbloods and halfbreeds if we weren’t careful.” Walburga added.
Regulus had to hand it to you – the only sign you even heard his mother was the slight raising of your eyebrows before the returned to their rightful place above your eyes.
He was smitten.
“Well, our darling Y/N will be a wonderful addition to the Black legacy. She was top of her class, she’s a powerful witch, and loyal to her kind.” You father proclaimed, jostling your shoulder once again.
Regulus couldn’t help himself; he gently placed his hand on the same shoulder your father’s hand was and brushed it – effectively shooing your father’s hand away. He rubbed your shoulder consolingly before returning his gaze to the table.
But not before he caught Narcissa’s knowing smirk as she eyed the two of you.  
“Marvellous. I think this will be a very wonderful match.” Walburga proclaimed.
Regulus didn’t often like agreeing with his mother – but he couldn’t help but feel the same.
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The house was disturbingly quiet after the affairs that took place today. 
The trip to the ministry to get your marriage license. Your ceremony on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and the reception that here at 12 Grimmauld Place, where your image and name were added to the Black Family tapestry. 
This is where Regulus found himself now, in the formal living room – hiding from you.
Not hiding from you.
Sort of hiding from you.
Regulus never grew up expecting much; at least not much of what he wanted. He lucked out getting to play quidditch, but everything else had been decided for him.
His house at Hogwarts was decided for him. His friends were decided for him. His marriage was decided for him.
But now that he had this? A marriage with you – the one witch he would have actually chosen for himself?
Well, he just didn’t know what to do with himself.
So, he was hiding in the formal living room, staring at the Black Family tapestry where your name and portrait was woven in beside his. 
He had never felt this lucky before.
His eyes, as they often did, wandered over to the place where Sirius’ name and portrait had been blasted off some years ago.
Regulus got what he wanted in you… he only wished his brother had been there too.
This is how you found him, standing against the back of a settee with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up, shirt untucked and tie loosened. 
“Oh, hi L/N…erm…” he trailed off awkwardly as you smiled kindly at him.
“I supposed you’ll have to call me by my name, now that we’re married.” You stated plainly as you moved to stand beside him to look at the tapestry.
“Did you know?” Regulus asked quietly after a few moments of silence.
“Know what?”
“Know that it was going to be me? That you were to be married to?” He clarified.
You shook your head in the negative. “I never bothered asking. Didn’t think there was much sense, seeing as there was nothing to be done about it.”
Regulus nodded in understanding. “Are you disappointed?”
“That it was you?” You asked. Regulus nodded. “Not at all.”
Regulus hoped his relief wasn’t as evident on his face as it felt. 
You turned your head back to the tapestry before pulling your wand out and stepping towards it. You pointed it gently at the place Sirius’ name was and murmured something quietly. 
Regulus watched in awe as the strands of the portrait stitched themselves back together, proudly displaying his big brother again.
“Is this alright?” you asked as you turned to observe him. He nodded dumbly as he swallowed against a painful lump in his throat. His eyes flitted to Andromeda’s burn mark. 
“Do you mind doing that one too?” He asked quietly.
You smiled softly and turned back, repeating the spell until Andromeda’s name was once again displayed on the wall.
“The Black’s can be whoever you want them to be now, you know?” You murmured quietly, eyes intent on Regulus’ form.
“I’m happy with the newest addition, so far.” He admitted shyly, wishing he was bold enough to proclaim exactly what he thought of you.
You smiled bashfully, and Regulus delighted in the slight flush that coloured your cheeks. “What else should we do?”
Regulus thought for a moment before a devious grin grew across his face.
“I say we start by pulling the funding from the Ministry. What do you think, my dear wife?”
Your smile looked like it was trying to be as wicked as Regulus’, but you fell painfully short. Regulus doubted you could ever manage looking anything but sweet.
“Sound’s perfect, darling.”
Regulus was in heaven – surely. 
813 notes · View notes
taasgirl · 20 days
Text
monaco pt. 1 - charles leclerc
summary: y/n is new to ferrari and is working very closely with charles, so it's inevitable that they fall right?
a/n: the outcomes of these races are fictional!! they're altered to fit the story, and there's no specific face claim!
PART TWO PART THREE
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liked by sergioramos, ynusername, 433, and 4, 982, 011 others scuderiaferrari Your Scuderia Ferrari Formula drivers for 2024 have delivered in Jeddah; Charles Leclerc finished P3, Y/N L/N finished P4. Big points for the team and much to learn 💪
ynusername ❤️🤍 liked by scuderiaferrari
user78312 Now someone fire the people in the pit, y/n ROBBED of a podium i'm so fr
user99203 this is genuinely my fav team partnership!!
user32164 I can't wait to see how they perform together
user80381 it's such a peculiar lineup, but it's perfect
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liked by landonorris, scuderiaferrari, charlesleclerc, and 445, 983 others ynusername Pleased to finish in fourth, I promise to do better. Congratulations @ charlesleclerc ❤️🏎️
user17352 "i promise to do better" y/n ur gonna make me cry
charlesleclerc Great race 👊 liked by ynusername
user90313 IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT!!!
user67392 i know it's her first race w ferrari, but if they fuck my girl up again... #y/ntoredbull
scuderiaferrari We're all so proud of you Y/N ❤️
user88302 call me delusional but she put a heart next to charles' name 😏😏
user79334 she also put a car, are we gonna speculate that too???
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liked by ynusername, user33478, user89323, and 547 others user17363 y/n and charles leaving the saudi gp together 💞
user67424 girlfriend or girl that's a friend?
user93843 HAHAHA
user02341 y/n liked omg
user94834 I know they're teammates, but they'd be so cute together
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liked by neymar, scuderiaferrari, ynusername, and 5, 894, 449 others charlesleclerc Very proud to start the season with a P3 finish, and to help the team. Also very proud of my teammate @ ynusername, who raced amazingly today.
landonorris Surely you give her the trophy
charlesleclerc No need, she'll win many this season 🤣🤣
ynusername Thank you Charlie
user76382 CHARLIE??? NEW CHARLES NICKNAME UNLOCKED
user89302 charles' gotta watch out, y/n is gonna tear him up
user68332 What a race, Prince of Monaco 🤩
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liked by user66739, user89932, scuderiaferrari, and 1, 982, 734, others f1 Charles Leclerc and Y/N L/N arriving to Albert Park in style 😎
user93842 Y/N WEARING RED PANTS!!
user12928 what??
user83901 charles has a superstitution to wear red pants, and it looks like he's got y/n in on it too 😂
user92832 How can two people be so fine
user87382 y/n l/n is getting her first f1 podium this weekend 🕯️🙏
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liked by f1, ynusername, olliebearman, and 4, 983, 221, others scuderiaferrari WHAT A QUALIFIER! Y/N L/N WILL START ON POLE POSITION FOR TOMORROWS RACE IN MELBOURNE. She is the first woman to achieve this milestone!
f1 Something Special
user80323 Ferrari don't fuck her up again
user12357 POLE FUCKING POSITION LETS GO
user77443 when max finally has competition 😇🌈💐🤗
user90323 Max genuinely needs to watch his back bc she's gonna take the championship
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liked by user56834, sadiomane, lec, and 1, 882, 304 others scuderiaferrari The eyes Chico, they never lie 💫 Y/N (P1), and Charles (P4) are ready for Australia.
user90383 Y/N's shoulders must be heavy from carrying all hopes of ferrari
user89032 and points too
user67393 COME ON Y/N!!!
USER33943 The race is gonna be mental, and I'm here for it
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liked by serenawilliams, sadiomane, cristiano, and 6, 873, 944 others scuderiaferrari And in what is her second ever Formula 1 race, Y/N L/N has won the Australian Grand Prix for 2024!
user89043 HOLY SHITTTT
user79334 oh my god max has been overtaken
user66730 About bloody time
user93112 Y/N IS THE MOMENT!
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liked by charlesleclerc, danielricciardo, user67474, and 4, 878, 932 others ynusername Y/N L/N Grand Prix Winner has a nice ring to it. LETS FUCKING GOOOOO
danielricciardo Trailblazer 🔥🚒🧑‍🚒
landonorris Can't even be mad about coming 4th when you're first
charlesleclerc So proud of you amor 🫀
user43840 AMOR???
user90394 anatomical heart? wtf charles 😭
scuderiaferrari Our Y/N 👑
user15473 step aside @ maxverstappen, the queen has arrived liked by ynusername
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liked by ynusername, carlossainz55, mclaren, and 2, 776, 832 others landonorris Very happy to have picked up points for Mclaren today, but all attention should be on my best friend @ ynusername. She's had my back since we were karting at six, and it's incredible to see her make history. She's the hardest worker I've ever met, and is the most deserving person to have a seat in F1. (And yes, she's already bullied me about beating me to a win).
ynusername my races to win ratio - 2:1. your races to win ratio - 107:0
landonorris Don't make me delete this entire post
ynusername i'm kidding (not really), love u lala
user89823 now this would be a powerful couple
user99311 NOOO HER AND CHARLES PLEASE
user56821 this looks more supportive bf than supportive bff
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liked by user78721, user92834, user55738, and 20, 872 user13452 not the entire grid partying after y/n's first f1 win
user88734 off topic but y/n looks so fine in that first pic holy shit
user45679 They all love her so much omg
user73292 y/n and lando this... Y/N AND CHARLES COME ON
user66382 Their chemistry is fucking insane i agree
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liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, and 2, 656, 737 others charlesleclerc Australia was incredible. Congratulations to the best teammate @ ynusername, history maker.
ynusername Thank you Charlie! liked by charlesleclerc
user67382 that second photo is 100% not a selfie two single people would take.
user89293 Brother is in love with y/n
user67262 tbf we all are
user98933 charles x y/n fans wake up, new content dropped
user23348 Sooooo is this a cheeky soft launch...
user67354 is y/n the girl from the party charles 😏😏
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sorry guys this is gonna have to be two parts bc of the stupid 30 images rule 😭
Let me know if you like this!! I love getting comments and messages :))
PART TWO
528 notes · View notes
harunayuuka2060 · 12 days
Text
Ace: Yo! When we were outside, someone tried to scout Yuurin to be a model!
Ace: And girls started to flock around him!
Riddle, Deuce, Trey, and Cater: ...
Cater: Wish that was you, huh?
Ace: *frowns*
Deuce: *laughs*
Trey: So what did he do?
Ace: Well, he politely declined the talent scout. As for the girls, he just thanked them for the compliments they gave him.
Riddle: No surprises there. He's a gentleman.
Riddle: If only you were more like him, Ace.
Ace: Hey! I'm a gentleman too!
Deuce: Where?
Ace: You don't see it because you're not a girl!
Ruggie: Thank you for helping me out with the cooking.
Yuurin: Don't mention it, Ruggie-senpai.
Ruggie: *looking at the dish she made*
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Is it okay if we don't serve that?
Yuurin: Why?
Ruggie: It looks good. What is it called?
Yuurin: Moussaka.
Ruggie: Moussaka... Yeah. That'll be my lunch. Shishishi!
Leona: *walks in*
Ruggie: Oh, hey Leona! We're just done with the—
Leona: *sees the Moussaka*
Leona: You cooked this, Yuurin?
Yuurin: *nods*
Ruggie: I'm sure you wouldn't like that. It has vegetables in it—
Leona: *already taking it with him*
Ruggie: L-Leona?!
Leona: *exits the kitchen*
Ruggie: Nooooo!
Ruggie: My lunch...
Ruggie: He stole it...
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *pulls out another batch from the oven*
Ruggie: *gasps*
Yuurin: This is yours, Ruggie-senpai.
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Yuurin... You're the best sister ever.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Don't cry, senpai...
Cater: Did you hit jackpot today, Ruggie-kun? Your lunch looks fancy.
Ruggie: Yuurin prepared this for me! *grinning cutely*
Cater: Eh? That guy can cook too?
Ruggie: Yep. *starts eating his food*
Ruggie: *lets out a purr-like noise; his ears twitching*
Cater: ...
Cater: Oh you look cute, Ruggie-kun! Can I take you a picture?
Ruggie: *immediately frowns* No. And don't bother me while I'm eating.
Cater: Aww....
Floyd: Hello, damselfish~.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Are you referring to me?
Floyd: Who else~ There's no one around here other than us~.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I don't think we have met before.
Floyd: I'm a member of the Basketball Club~.
Floyd: It's nice to meet you~.
Yuurin: Oh. I see.
Floyd: ...
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: It seems like there is nothing you need from me.
Yuurin: I'll be taking my leave now. *turns her back on him*
Floyd: You shouldn't have turned your back on me.
Yuurin: !!!
Azul and Jade: *hears someone knocking on the door*
Azul: That must be Floyd.
Jade: Hm? I didn't expect him to finish the task early.
Azul: Maybe he was in the mood. *opens the door*
Yuurin: *carrying the unconscious Floyd like a sack of rice* *intimidatingly looks at Azul*
Azul: ...
Azul: *smiles* What happened?
Yuurin: This upperclassman tried to attack me.
Yuurin: Would you explain why, Housewarden of Octavinelle?
Azul: ...
Azul: Oh dear. He must've misunderstood the task I gave him.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *goes back to her neutral expression* I see.
Yuurin: *puts Floyd gently down on the floor*
Yuurin: I hope this doesn't happen again.
Yuurin: Or you'll see him with a broken limb.
Azul and Jade: ...
Jade: *chuckles* Oh you have just become his favorite person.
Yuurin: Huh?
Floyd: Damselfish~!
Riddle: Floyd?!
Floyd: Oh! You're here too, goldfishy~!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: How are you feeling, Floyd-senpai?
Floyd: It's great~! I drank a healing potion, so all of my injuries are gone now~.
Yuurin: That's good.
Riddle: ...
Riddle: Did you engage in combat with him?!
Yuurin: Yes.
Floyd: It was fun~.
Riddle: ...
736 notes · View notes
mclqren · 1 month
Text
SPORTING SECRETS ★ CL16
PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!footballer!reader
SUMMARY ✦ you are a famous footballer & you have been dating charles in secret for some time, but your fans start to piece together the clues when they spot him at one of your matches [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ reader plays for the arsenal women's team. the fc i've used is alessia russo, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by leahwilliamsonn, bethmead_, and 214,990 others
yourusername match ready for this weekend ❤️
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user1 i literally aspire to be like you when i get older
user2 she does it againnn!!
user3 london is RED ❤️❤️
liked by yourusername
bethmead_ my girllll 💘
yourusername love youu!!
user4 i look up to her sm
user5 sameee!!
user6 HOW IS SHE SINGLE STILLL
user7 literally NO CLUE HOW
charles_leclerc
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( caption one: guess where i am 😍 | caption two: london 🇬🇧 )
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liked by kimlittle1990, charles_leclerc, and 252,111 others
yourusername walking back after a victory this weekend:
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user12 LETS FUCKING GOOO
user13 KNEW YOU COULD DO ITTT!!
leahwilliamsonn ❤️❤️
yourusername foreverrrr! ❤️
user14 is no one going to talk about how CHARLES LECLERC is in her likes??
user15 i swear he's been following her for a while, though?
user16 yup!! but this is the first time they're actually interacting with each other on the internet
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liked by bethmead_, charles_leclerc, and 292,400 others
yourusername best end to the weekend!! ft millie 💘
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user17 MILLIE IS BACKKKK!!
user18 ugh y/n is such a cutie i can't
user19 OKAY BUT WHO IS THAT GUYYY??
user20 Y/N HAS A MAN??
user21 i'm kindaaa surprised but not really bc LOOK AT HER
bethmead_ so who's the man that's replaced me
yourusername shhh look away ❤️
charles_leclerc millieee!!
yourusername my fav 💘
user22 THE COMMENT FROM CHARLES HELLO?
user23 my two worlds colliding is this a fever dream.
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,101,767 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc my y/n - aka the best footballer i've ever met (other than myself, of course) i'm so happy we can finally share our love with the rest of the world. forever and always, i love you ❤️
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user25 WHERE IS THAT GIRL ON TWITTER BC SHE MUST BE PUNCHING THE AIR RN.
user26 SOMEONE GIVE HER A MEDAL
user27 AHHH SHES SO CUTE!!
user28 NEW PARENTS UNLOCKED
user29 wait can someone tell me who she is??
user30 y/n l/n!! she's a footballer for the arsenal wfc and she's sooo fucking perfect!
user29 ahh!! she's so gorgeous! 💗💗
yourusername the way you posted this without my permission is crazyyy...
charles_leclerc had to let the world know at some point 😘
yourusername i love you tooo! (the caption abt you being better is def a lie but okay!)
charles_leclerc excuse me i dominated the game??
yourusername how - by falling flat on ur ass??
user30 OKAY THEIR DYNAMIC>>>
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liked by charles_leclerc, bethmead_, and 401,928 others
tagged charles_leclerc
yourusername charlieee my love!! thank you so much for supporting me for just over a year (crazy how no one managed to clock us for it until now), you mean so so much to me! p.s. if you ever want to say ur better than me at football, take a look at the last pic. you're welcome. 😊😊
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user31 STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK US SO LONG TO FIGURE OUT
user32 FR like we're meant to be so diligent??
user33 AW MY HEARTTT
user34 icl him in that first pic>>> WOW
bethmead_ still can't believe you replaced me :(
yourusername no one could ever replace you, come over rn 😘
bethmead_ omw!!
charles_leclerc i love you
yourusername LOVE YOU MORE
user35 my heart can't handle this sedate me now.
charles_leclerc WHY THE LAST PIC
yourusername i get to insult you every once in a while 💘
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736 notes · View notes
aphroditelovesu · 3 months
Text
Yandere Hannibal Lecter Headcanons (General)
''Nothing here is vegetarian." — Hannibal Lecter.
❝ 🍽 — lady l: I think it's amazing that my hcs become more and more extensive lol, but you like it, don't you? Hannibal is my newest fixation and I loved writing for him, due to his personality. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! It's four in the morning here 🤎🤍.
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, cannibalism and murder.
❝🍽pairing: yandere!hannibal lecter x gender neutral!reader.
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Hannibal Lecter is decorous and very polite and he really appreciates that, politeness. He values ​​and is easily offended by people who are rude or who do not have the correct manners, especially at the table. In addition to being a perfectionist analyzer.
He believes that the way people behave at the table directly reflects their education and social status. Hannibal is meticulous in choosing ingredients, preparing meals and presenting dishes. The problem is that his food tends to be human flesh, but Hannibal doesn't consider himself a cannibal, since the victims he chooses are seen as pigs to him.
Hannibal is known for his distinct personality and his appreciation for elegance and refined etiquette. His impeccable education, combined with his exquisite taste, creates an intriguing and contradictory image, due to his serial killer side. He stands out not only for his intellectual abilities and his ability to appreciate high culture but also for his meticulous and artistic approach to his darker pursuits.
You must have his politeness and good manners, that's the least he requires, Hannibal doesn't like rude people and although he won't kill you, he would have to teach you to have good manners. He will be happy to do so, however.
When interacting socially, Hannibal is observant and analytical, evaluating people based on their behavior at the table and in everyday situations. His aversion to rude people puts him in a unique position where he feels compelled to correct these "lapses" in etiquette. The way he corrects these mistakes varies from murder to a class, in this case, that class would be just for you.
You would have to be someone who achieves these Hannibal decorums, or comes close at least, for him to become obsessed with you. He likes polite people and will be happy if you are one of them, but if you are not or don't know the correct manners very well, don't worry, he will help you.
Hannibal is a psychiatrist and is very well aware that his thoughts of you are not ''normal'' or healthy, but he doesn't care. He knows it's morally wrong to do what he does and does it anyway, so what are some dark thoughts about you? But these thoughts quickly become actions he committed in your name.
He will take notes about you and create your psychiatric profile and if there is something ''wrong'', he will offer therapy for you, that is if you were not already his patient. Always very observant and attentive, he will be keeping all the necessary information about you, so that he can use it to catch you later.
If you have problems with your family or friends, Hannibal will take care of it. He doesn't like the idea of ​​someone wanting to hurt you, whether emotionally or physically, and most likely he will kill them one by one and serve them to you. Of course, without your knowledge. He knows you're not ready to know that yet.
Hannibal will be very picky about your food, just as he is about his. If you eat poorly or incorrectly, he will correct it. He enjoys cooking for you and will be adamant about doing so, serving refined recipes and elaborate dishes using fresh ingredients. Hannibal is a bit too controlling.
He is not possessive, but rather obsessive. Hannibal doesn't like it when you get too close to other people, but he will be more uncomfortable if it's someone he has apathy or something against. But he will sort it out. He feels jealous, but he deals with it in his own way, releasing that feeling on other things... Or people.
Hannibal is quite protective of you and will be adamant about keeping you safe. He may try to convince you to live with him or will make regular visits to your home, work or where you study. He will always be around when he gets the chance, just to look out for you.
He will try not to completely succumb to his desires, as Hannibal doesn't like being controlled, and allowing you to have so much power over him makes him more than uncomfortable. At least until he is sure that you will let yourself be completely dominated by him, only then will he feel more comfortable in making his feelings for you clear.
Hannibal Lecter is very intelligent and knows very well how to get rid of evidence that could incriminate him. Besides being a psychopath who doesn't feel remorse or empathy for others, he becomes softer when he's with you. Although his feelings aren't clear or fully understood, he knows he cares about you, enough that he wants you to be his. And you'll be his.
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girlgenius1111 · 1 month
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someone who loves you wouldn't do this
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the fourth and final chapter of family line solstråle faces some more challenges and makes some important decisions. angst. like angst... but then fluff :) cw: more of the same... poor mental health on sol's part.
it must be said that this chapter would be absolutely NOTHING compared to what it is now without @wileys-russo. for every comment you leave on this, YOU BEST leave bailey something telling her thank you, too :)
------
“Solstråle… that is just… wood. Your bed would just be on some wooden slats on the ground.” 
You beamed at your sister. “I KNOW. It’s so cool. It’s like camping. But with a comfy mattress, and it’s oversized, so I don't need a nightstand, it’s like a built-in shelf! It'll go so well with my new map because the wood is the same as the frame and…” 
Ingrid didn’t need to hear your reasoning; the excitement on your face was more than enough for her. She would have bought you anything, no matter how hideous, just to keep seeing this joy on your face. This alleged bed frame wasn’t even that bad; it was woodsy and earthy and the precise thing you loved. 
The bed frame was the final thing you’d needed. Ingrid had come in with a gameplan, because of course she had, and you had systematically made your way through the store. 
You’d seemed unsure at first, and very hesitant to really pick anything out. Mapi, meanwhile, was too excited to see that she was overwhelming you. After the 8th time you’d said the words, “I don’t know, do you like it?” your sister knew she had to step in. 
Mapi was busy talking your ear off. “OOO what about this dresser? With the matching mirror? Or we could get the other mirror with this dresser and paint the wood framing so it would match. Or we could get-”
Ingrid cut her off. “María, darling, I love you, but take a breath.” You watched amused as Mapi literally took a deep breath at Ingrid’s instruction. “Okay, now go pick out a couple new mugs over there and then come back.” 
Mapi nodded enthusiastically, bounding off towards the mugs. “Do not run, María Pilar!” Ingrid shouted after her, smiling to herself when Mapi slowed down to an awkward shuffle. 
Your sister turned to you then, a sympathetic look on her face as you regarded her cautiously. 
“Which dresser do you want?” 
“I don’t-” 
“No. Which dresser do you want?” Ingrid insisted. 
You shrugged, looking away from your sister, and inexplicably starting to tear up. You didn't want to pick the wrong thing, and you didn’t want to make anyone buy anything for you. 
The brunette put her hands on your shoulders, looking down at you insistently. “Listen, Solstråle. I want you to have a space that is yours, with things you pick, and things you like. Let me do this for you? Please?” 
You sighed, nodding slowly. “I like that one.” You said softly, pointing at one of the dressers Mapi hadn’t even glanced at. 
“Good.” Ingrid said. “MARÍA, come here.” 
Mapi returned like a puppy being called back to its owner, with a single mug in her hands. Ingrid had been about to scold her, and tell her to stop hijacking your shopping trip, when Mapi handed out the mug towards you. You took it into your hands, turning it around until the design was facing you. 
It was a ceramic mug, painted with a minimalist map of Spain. There was only one marking on the map, signifying Barcelona. It was a little sun, right on the coast, marking your new home. 
“Get it? It’s a map. Like the one I got you. And it has a sun. Mapi and Solstråle. Un mapa y el sol.” She joked, clearly thinking you’d laugh, and put the mug back, as it wasn’t normally the sort of thing you’d like. 
You grinned at her, though, looking between the Spaniard and your sister, who also had a big smile on her face. “Can I get it?” You asked. 
Mapi looked surprised, but Ingrid just kept smiling, knowing instantly that the silly mug meant something because Mapi had seen it, and thought of you. “Of course. María, she picked out a dresser.” 
“Which one?” Mapi asked, looking around excitedly. 
You’d laughed, shaking your head, and pointing at the one you wanted. Ingrid was a little worried Mapi would jokingly complain that you hadn’t picked one of the ones’ she’d pointed out, and inadvertently make you feel guilty, but Mapi just nodded enthusiastically. 
“Oh I didn’t see that one! Good call pequeña!” 
You’d looked relieved, Ingrid felt relieved, and Mapi was just happy to be there.
-------
You couldn’t sleep. It felt dumb, laying in your new bed, in your redecorated room, but your mind just wouldn’t turn off. You’d spent the day with Ingrid and Mapi, and they’d done everything right. Everything. Your room felt like your room, now, not just the guest room. Their home felt like your home. 
And yet. You were still empty. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t convinced. It didn’t make any fucking sense, because they’d gone out of their way, over and over, to show you that they loved you. That seemed like something that couldn’t be reality, though. You weren’t… loveable. How could you be? You were just you. And that had never been enough, no matter how badly you wanted it to be. 
You couldn’t stand laying in bed any longer. It was too soft, too comfortable. It felt too safe, like everything was about to be ripped away from you. The living room was safer. It was so viscerally Ingrid and Mapi’s space. You didn’t have anything to lose down here. 
You turned the TV on, appreciating the array of Norwegian options Ingrid was subscribed to, and put on a mindless one. You sat and watched, and tried not to think. You weren’t very successful if the way you jumped when the couch moved next to you was any indication. 
“Can’t sleep?” Mapi asked, tucking herself under the blanket you were using. 
“Nope.” 
“Thinking about how much better you’d sleep in that race car bed we saw? That’s why I'm up.” Mapi replied wistfully, causing you to crack a smile. 
“Something like that.” You replied softly. The defender studied you for a moment, before throwing an arm around your shoulder, contact you leaned into, almost on instinct. 
A scene came on in the drama that was playing, one which took place in a tattoo shop. Mapi perked up, and you saw an opening to change the subject before your mood could be questioned. 
“How old were you when you got your first tattoo?” You questioned. 
“18. It was this one.” Mapi said excitedly, holding out her arm to point at the partially covered up tattoo. “I covered it kind of a couple years later. Would you ever get a tattoo?” 
You weren’t a bad liar, but for some reason, you didn’t feel like lying to Mapi. She felt like a judgment free zone, in a way your sister didn’t. “I have one.” 
Mapi looked at you in surprise. “You do? Where? What is it? When did you get it? How did you get it?” The law in Barcelona was that you could get one at 16 without parental consent, but Mapi hadn’t known when you would have done it. 
You laughed at her rapid fire questions. “I got it in Norway. It was a stick and poke, I don’t even remember getting it, I was blacked out.” 
Mapi tried to school her features, but you could sense her disapproval anyway. It wasn’t for the reason you expected, though. “Someone gave you a stick and poke while you were blacked out?” She asked evenly. 
You just shrugged. “I asked for it, apparently.” 
It was quiet for a moment while the defender tried to act like that didn’t upset her. 
“What is it?” You blushed, then, and Mapi cracked a smile. “Tell me, tell me. I won’t tell your sister.” 
Instead of telling, you showed her, pulling your shirt up so your rib was exposed.
So the 23 clearly inked into your skin was visible. 
Mapi’s touch was delicate when she traced over it, a small smile on her lips. 
“23, huh?” 
You shrugged. “It was the only thing I asked for, apparently. I couldn’t remember the number, I was so drunk, but I made someone google what it was, and then… got it.” 
“That’s really sweet.” Mapi said quietly. 
“Hope she doesn’t change her number.” You said quickly, trying not to linger on the sentimentality of it all. 
“Eh. You can always turn it into something else. Tattoo cover ups aren’t that expensive.” Mapi said casually, knowing exactly who was just a few steps from the family room. Sue her if she wanted to see Ingrid’s reaction to your tattoo. 
“Tattoo? TATTOO? You have a tattoo, solstråle?” Ingrid asked, practically falling into the room. You tensed, suddenly terrified that this would be it. She’d make you leave after this. But while ingrid looked a little stern, she didn't seem angry. Still, you were a bit frozen still, and Mapi took her opportunity. 
“Stick and poke. Got it while blackout drunk.” She said, holding up a hand for you to high five, despite clearly disapproving minutes earlier. Apparently, Mapi only needed to be a protective adult in Ingrid’s absence. You high fived her, allowing yourself to smile a bit, though you shot your sister a nervous glance. 
Ingrid pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, sighing heavily and sitting on the couch. 
“Alright. Let me see it.” You sat up to lift the side of your shirt again, stopping when she threw a hand over her eyes. “Wait, no. Is it bad? Is it a bad word? Is it a vagina?” You and Mapi collapsed into giggles, and Ingrid rolled her eyes, removing her hand from her face. “Oh grow up, both of you. Let me see, solstråle.” 
A bit smugly, now, you showed her the tattoo, watching carefully as her face morphed from apprehension, to surprise, to… emotion. Ingrid was tearing up. 
“Oh my god, don’t cry, please, Ingrid,” you begged, sitting up and looking at your sister anxiously. Mapi was shaking with silent laughter next to you, and Ingrid was waving her hands in front of her face frantically. 
“I’m not crying, I’m not. I’m just- tattoos are bad. Really bad. You shouldn’t have that. Tattoo. Of my number. On your body forever. My baby sister,” She trailed off, biting her lip when it began to tremble. 
“Ingrid,” you complained, looking away uncomfortably. 
“Ven aqui, princesa,” Mapi said quietly, pulling Ingrid into her side, though she was still smiling. Ingrid took a few calming breaths resting against her girlfriend, staying silent even though she had a million things to say. Her girlfriend took the opportunity to break the ice, seeing as though you looked to be on the verge of bolting out of the room. “ You know what would look good, solstråle? A 4, on the other side.” She suggested with a grin. 
Ingrid sat bolt upright. “NO! No more tattoos. María, I swear to god.” 
Mapi laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m just kidding, princesa, relax! God you sound like Alexia when I joked that I was going to tattoo Fresa when she was 12.  I thought Ale was going to hit me.” 
“I might hit you.” Ingrid mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at her girlfriend. 
“Nah. I’m too hot for that.” Mapi said confidently, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend’s cheek. Ingrid fought a smile and you turned away with a grimace on your face. 
“Well. I’m going to bed. Please, keep the volume down, I don’t wish to be scarred this evening.” You said, walking briskly out of the room, ignoring Mapi’s cackle, and Ingrid’s gasp. 
“We don’t have sex! We don’t! Abstinence is key!” Ingrid shouted after you, sighing heavily when she heard you laugh from the stairs. She turned to Mapi with a defeated look on her face. 
“Nicely done, princesa.” Mapi teased. 
Ingrid groaned, collapsing against her girlfriend. “She laughed a lot today. Like really laughed.” Ingrid commented after a minute. 
Mapi ran her fingers through Ingrid’s loose hair. “I know. It was nice. She’s making progress, mi amor. You’re doing really well.” 
Ingrid smiled shyly into the Spaniard, privately thinking that she’d do a lot worse without Mapi around to help. It takes a village, she supposed. 
-------
You hadn’t quite drifted off when you heard your bedroom door open quietly. You were half asleep, too sleepy to open your eyes, assuming that either Ingrid or Mapi were putting something in your room you’d forgotten downstairs. You cracked an eye open after a second when you heard a noise closer to your bed, and saw your sister picking up Snø, who had fallen off your bed. She turned towards you, and for some reason, you shut your eyes before she could see they were open. 
You pretended to be asleep. You weren’t sure why. 
You were glad you had, though, when you felt Snø placed just next to your face, felt the covers pulled up a little until they were just under your chin, and felt Ingrid press a soft kiss to your forehead. 
“God natt solstråle, jeg elsker deg,” she whispered, before quietly creeping back out of the room. 
You were wide awake now, opening your eyes as soon as you heard the door shut. You weren’t quite sure what you were so upset about. Ingrid tucking you in had felt safe and loving and warm. Those were all good feelings… so why did it feel like a part of your chest was caving in on itself?
It was just… where had Ingrid learned to do that? You couldn’t, for the life of you, remember your parents doing anything similar with you. Even when you were young, putting you to bed consisted of them standing in the doorway while you got under the covers, and them bidding you a goodnight. Had it not been like that for Ingrid? 
The more you thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. Of course it hadn’t been like that for Ingrid. She had been intentional, wanted. She was their favorite. They loved Ingrid in a way they never loved you. Of course they tucked her in, and kissed her forehead, and told her they loved her. Words you hadn’t heard from either of them in a long time. Ingrid got everything you always craved, and you couldn’t even really be that mad about it. Because if anyone deserved the absolute best the world had to offer, it was your sister. 
You cried yourself to sleep that night, quietly muffling your sobs in your pillow. It was a sadness that plagued you, mixed with hope. Your parents didn’t love you, you were pretty sure of that. But it seemed like, maybe, Ingrid did. 
-------
The following day was a match day. Well, not for Mapi, obviously, but it was an important league match for the team, and for Ingrid, and you were actually looking forward to going. 
You woke up well rested in your bedroom, warm sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the blinds. You looked around when you woke up, a bit confused at the transformation it had undergone. It was cozy, and you relished laying in bed for a bit, not in any rush to leave this newly comforting space. It felt like home, and thought that still scared you, it wasn’t as terrifying in the daylight. Everything was always better in the morning. 
And though the morning was good, the afternoon only went downhill. 
You’d disappeared up to your room to get some homework done before you were set to leave for the game, and Mapi and Ingrid were lounging downstairs, watching a WSL match. Ingrid was ignoring the repetitive texts from her mother. After another one buzzed her phone, quickly followed by a sharp ring as her mom resorted to calling her, Ingrid flipped her phone over with a heavy sigh, turning to hide her face in the crook of Mapi’s neck. The Spaniard frowned sadly, wrapping her arms tight around the Norwegian, softly rubbing her back. 
“I love you.” Mapi whispered, not really sure what to say, but figuring that those words couldn’t hurt. Ingrid whispered them back, feeling a bit braver now, before pulling away and reaching for her phone again. 
“I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t want to talk to her right now, but she can tell something is wrong. I never ignore her like this.” 
“You’re not ready to talk. Just say that.” Mapi suggested. Ingrid thought for a few moments, before slowly nodding and beginning to type a response. 
Please stop calling. I am focused on Solstråle right now. You’ve really hurt her, and neither of us are ready to talk to you yet. Please respect that.
Ingrid showed Mapi before hitting send, an apprehensive look on her face. 
“Perfect, amor.” Mapi assured her, watching as Ingrid hit send and snuggled back up against her girlfriend. She felt the words more than she heard them when Mapi spoke into her ear. “I am proud of you. You’re doing the right thing for your sister, and I know it’s hard, but you’re doing so well, mi princesa. I’m so proud of you.” 
Ingrid blushed heavily, but smiled to herself. She wasn't sure why, but it suddenly felt like things might be okay from here on out. She would be wrong. 
-------
You shouldn’t have answered the phone. You should have known better. You couldn't help the hope that bloomed inside of you when you saw your mom’s name on the caller ID as your phone rang, though. You answered the phone. 
“You’re ruining our family.” She ruined it first. 
“You’ve made my daughter hate me.” You’re her daughter too. 
“Ingrid doesn’t want you there. She’s not your parent, I am.” Ingrid says she wants you here. And Ingrid acts more like a parent than she ever has. 
“If I'd known how much trouble you’d be, I wouldn’t have bothered with having you.” Sometimes you wish she hadn’t bothered with it. 
“You cause more trouble than you’re worth, and one day Ingrid will see that. And I won’t be here to take you back.” You were a lot of trouble, weren’t you? Your mom was right. One day, Ingrid and Mapi would reach the point she had. And you’d have nowhere else to go. 
Your thoughts only spiraled from there. You hung up the phone without saying a word, letting it fall to the ground. You curled into yourself and thought. Thought hard. Until your mind felt like a prison you were locked in, and you weren’t sure how to get out. Until the room disappeared around you, and all you felt was hatred. Not towards your mother. But towards yourself. 
-------
You wouldn’t look at Mapi. You wouldn’t move. You didn’t even really seem to know she was there. You sat with your knees pulled to your chest on the floor by your bed, a vacant look in your eyes. 
“Come on, pequeña, come back. I’m right here, you’re safe.” Mapi said softly, careful not to touch you. She’d come to ask you if you’d be ready to go in an hour, wanting to leave at the same time as Ingrid and spend time with the team as they got ready in the locker room. She’d found you like this, making yourself as small as possible against your bed. You looked tiny, and Mapi spoke quietly, delicately, trying to coax you back to her. 
Still, even her soothing words didn’t bring you out. And she knew she needed to get Ingrid, even as she knew that Ingrid would freak out.
She stepped away from you, leaning into the hall and calling quietly towards her room, where your sister was. 
“Ingrid, come here please.” She said, as calmly as she could. Ingrid appeared in the hall, walking towards your room as she fiddled with the braid in her hair. 
“What’s up?” She asked, following Mapi into your room. “Solstråle?” She looked between you and her girlfriend in confusion. 
“I think she’s a little out of it right now. I’m not sure what happened, I found her like this.” Mapi explained, trying her best to not make Ingrid panic. 
Ingrid sat down next to you, grabbing your hand. When you didn’t even flinch, she looked at Mapi in horror. 
“María, what do we do?” 
“She’s all right, amor. She just needs a bit.” Mapi reassured, sitting down on your other side. 
“I… I don’t understand, what happened?” 
“I don’t know, mi amor. Something probably upset her. She’s very vulnerable right now.” Mapi replied, before pausing briefly. “Do you remember when I withdrew from camp for the first time? I got like this. I was okay, I just needed some time, and my brain was trying to protect itself. Solstråle is okay, she just needs the same.” 
Ingrid nodded slowly, because she did remember. That was different, though, that was… a traumatic experience for her girlfriend. And whatever was happening with you right now, this couldn’t be a reaction to a traumatic experience. Yes, you were struggling, and yes, the last couple years had been hard, but you weren’t… traumatized? 
As Ingrid sat and waited for you to come back to her, though, she realized that you were. If she put herself in your position, she couldn’t see how you could have come out of everything not traumatized. The marks your parents had left on you ran deeper than Ingrid had realized. And there wasn’t anything she could do to fix them unless you let her. 
“María,” Ingrid said quietly, a desperate plea for some reassurance as minutes passed and nothing changed, as she stared into your eyes and you didn't react. 
“I know, cariño, but she’s okay. She’s okay, I promise. Just try to stay calm.” 
Ingrid wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay calm. Especially when she glanced at her phone and saw it was several minutes past the time she was supposed to leave for the match. “Can you call Ale? And tell her I can’t come?” 
Mapi was nodding before Ingrid finished her sentence, standing and stepping out of the room. The phone only rang once before Alexia picked up, her reassuring voice calming Mapi, who was pretending to be a lot less panicked than she felt. 
“Hola.” 
“Ingrid and I can’t come.” Mapi said simply. 
“What’s going on? Are you both okay?” Alexia asked with concern. Ingrid wouldn’t just miss a match she was supposed to be starting. Not unless something was wrong. 
“It’s her sister, she’s not… well right now. We have to stay here with her. Ale, I’m really sorry,” Mapi said, cutting herself off before she got choked up. She wasn’t an emotional person but seeing you like this, seeing Ingrid so upset, and hearing her best friend’s voice over the phone… she couldn’t help it. 
“No, don’t be sorry. Family first, always. I’ll talk to Jona. Do you need anything? Can I help?” Alexia asked. Hearing Mapi cry was always unsettling, because it happened so rarely. 
“No, we’ve got it. Thank you, Ale, really.” Mapi said back, clearing her throat. 
They said goodbye, and Mapi walked back into the room, raising her eyebrows when she saw Ingrid on your phone. 
“She talked to Mom. Like 20 minutes ago, she answered a call from Mom.” Ingrid stated. “Could that…” 
Mapi took her spot back next to you, absentmindedly taking your hand in hers. You gave it the faintest of squeezes, but the Spaniard didn’t want to put any pressure on you, so she said nothing. “It could be that. It makes sense. A lot of this seems to have to do with your mom. I don’t know what she said on the phone, but… it probably wasn’t good.” 
Ingrid sat with that information for a bit, startling slightly when you slumped into her. Carefully, she lowered you so your head was in her lap. You seemed a little more aware, now, but still nowhere near normal. Softly, she began to pull your hair out of the braid it was in, combing it back away from your face. 
“Our Mom did this to her.” She said evenly. Mapi rested her chin on Ingrid’s shoulder, nodding slightly. “I am never letting that woman near Solstråle again. I don’t care what I have to do. She’s been hurt enough. I won’t let her be hurt anymore.” 
It didn’t matter that Mapi had come to this conclusion a couple days ago. It mattered that Ingrid was there now, and Ingrid was going to keep you safe. 
You heard what Ingrid said. Your ears still worked, you were just a bit… out of it. You heard what she had told her girlfriend. And as she sat above you, relaxing you with every touch of her fingers to your scalp, you knew that you were failing at the rules you’d set yourself years ago. 
Don’t get attached. Don’t expect anything from anyone. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t listen when people tell you they love you; they almost never mean it. 
You were trusting, again. Just a little bit, piece by piece, and you knew that it would take time before you healed fully, before you trusted fully. Very quickly, though, you were losing the will to be independent, losing the will to be strong. You didn’t want to have to be strong anymore. And you were beginning to think you didn’t need to be. 
Of course, healing isn’t linear. Nothing is that easy. So even as you slowly sat up off your sister, and inquired as to why she wasn’t at her game, some part of you knew something else would go wrong. It had happened too many times for you not to know any better. There was still a hesitation when you leaned into the hug your sister offered, as she explained that you were more important than football. There was still hesitation when she asked what had happened. You told her the fewest details possible, which she clearly wasn’t happy with. You were still holding yourself back, somewhere in the middle of healed and broken. It was almost a race to see who could get to you first. It would either be Mapi and Ingrid to reach you, to put you back together. Or it would be the trauma and pain that pulled you backwards, back to the version of yourself you hated. Breaking you for good. 
------
The answer would come in the form of a knock on the front door, later that day. After you’d gotten up off the floor of your bedroom, and returned to pretending to be okay. You were in the garage with Mapi, working on the bike, while Ingrid cooked dinner. You were loosening up a bit, and Mapi could tell you were getting closer to telling her what your mom had said on the phone. 
Your sister answered the door, thinking maybe it would be one of their teammates, coming to check on them after her rather abrupt withdrawal from the match. 
When Ingrid opened the door, though, it wasn’t her teammate on the front porch. It was your father. 
-------
Your father, who was significantly less at fault than your mom, but still complicit in how you’d been treated. Your father, who always worked too much to really have a say in anything regarding your life. Your father, who you’d always felt closer to, always trusted more. 
Your father, who loved you more than he’d ever admit. 
Ingrid knew what he was there for the minute she saw his face. She was proven right when she got you and Mapi from the garage and brought you into the family room. When he began to talk and explain what he wanted, began to try to convince you to come home. 
“I know Mom messed up. We both have, really. Our home isn’t the same without you though, Solstråle. I officially retired yesterday, which is why I wasn’t here sooner. I want to make things right. We weren’t good parents, but I’m here now, my darling. I want you to come back home. We can fix things with your mom. We can fix things at your school, get you back with your friends. We can be a family again.” 
We can be a family again. A few months ago, maybe that would have gotten you home. Maybe the temptation of your friends and Norway and the promise of being loved would have worked. Things were different now, though. You felt like you had a family here, or that you could. 
You’d always had a better relationship with your Dad. He loved all the outdoorsy activities you did, and though he’d been busy with work practically your whole life, the little time you spent together was always nice. Him retiring would ensure one sane person was home with you, that it wouldn’t just be you and your mom. And maybe you would have said yes, if you hadn’t seen the fear in Ingrid’s eyes, and decided it was because she wanted you to stay. She wanted you here, you told yourself. You wanted to be where you were wanted. And that wasn’t Norway, not with your mom. 
“No.” you said simply. 
“Solstråle,” your father began, with an exasperated sigh. 
“No. I appreciate you coming here, and I appreciate you caring but it’s too late. It’s not enough, and it’s too late. Mom doesn’t want me home. She made that clear on the phone today. I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted. I don’t want to go back to Norway.” 
Next to you, Mapi, who had been silent this whole time, squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. 
Your Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You got the idea he thought this would be easier, which made sense. You hadn’t put up any fight when they’d sent you to Spain, and your Dad hadn’t expected any fight now. 
“Take a day or two. Think about it. For me?” 
Ingrid and Mapi wanted to snap that you didn’t owe him anything and he was in no place to ask you for anything, but they didn’t want to cause any more conflict than was necessary. Besides, you could handle yourself. 
“I’ve made my decision but if you want to hear me repeat myself in two days, that’s fine.” You said calmly. Ingrid bit back a laugh, but Mapi smiled openly. 
Your Dad didn’t seem phased, to his credit. “I’d like to talk to you both. Alone.” He directed that at the older girls, and you took the opportunity to flee upstairs, far away from the man that was… doing nothing but confusing you about your feelings towards your parents. 
Your Dad didn’t stay for much longer, giving your sister a little speech about encouraging you to “make the right decision,” and why the right thing would be sending you home with him. 
It left your sister with a bit to think about, her parents often making her rethink her decisions. Mapi could sense this turmoil, but she didn’t say anything, knowing Ingrid would come to her. Ingrid was completely silent as her and Mapi went to clean up the kitchen from dinner, allowing you space and time upstairs to process.  
After a few minutes, though, Ingrid spoke up. 
“Are you sure we’re making the right decision?” Ingrid asked, turning to Mapi as she finished putting away the dishes. 
“We aren’t making a decision. Your sister is.” Mapi reasoned. “Besides, Ingrid, you said it yourself. Solstråle shouldn’t be around your mom. There are no real, tangible reasons why she shouldn’t stay here.” 
“My dad had a couple.” Ingrid said skeptically. 
“Okay. Why should Solstråle go back to Norway?” Mapi asked, taking a seat at the counter across from her girlfriend. Ingrid sighed, and began to list off the reasons her father had given her. 
It was, of course, at this moment that you came down the stairs to fill up your water. This moment, the worst possible moment, as Ingrid tried to convince herself that you should stay, while inadvertently convincing you that she didn’t want you to stay. You froze in the hall, just out of sight, after hearing your name when Mapi asked her question. It was a miracle you stayed silent and on your feet, as every fear you still harbored about being a burden to Ingrid and Mapi was, apparently, proved to be true. 
“She doesn’t have friends here. She doesn’t speak Spanish very well. We’re both busy athletes, and she is… not easy. We’d have our hands full. We are young, and we aren’t her parents. I’m her sister, not her mom. She needs help, and I’m not sure how to convince her to get it. My mom and dad can get her back on track better than I can.” 
Ingrid was simply restating what her father had said. None of it she agreed with, none of it felt true. You didn’t hear her tell Mapi that, though. No, you quietly crept back upstairs, and sat on your bed numbly. Your stupid bed that she’d bought for you. In the stupid room she’d redecorated. With the absurd presents she’d gotten you. All of it wasn’t true. All of it was a lie. She didn’t want you here, how could you have ever let yourself be convinced that she did? Just like that, with only a few sentences overheard, every ounce of trust you’d begun to place in your sister had evaporated. They were downstairs, talking about how they didn’t want you, after spending so long lying and saying they did. 
It should have been confusing, this contradiction. But it wasn’t, because you’d spent your whole life feeling unwanted. And what is a few days of being told something against 18 years of being told something the complete opposite? Your mom had been right. Ingrid had come to her senses. You weren’t wanted here. Your Dad said he wanted to fix things, and though that was hardly believable to you, you’d go back. Maybe you weren’t wanted anywhere, but you’d go back to Norway, where no one cared what you did as long as you didn’t get in trouble. You supposed they didn’t really care here, either, they’d just been pretending to. It had all been an act, probably to spare your feelings, but an act nonetheless. You ignored that it didn’t make sense. You pretended that the complete contradictions in what they’d been telling you and how they’d been acting didn’t exist. Because you’d rather convince yourself then be convinced by them. You’d rather hurt yourself than let them hurt you first. You’d take the first step. You’d make it easy, and you’d go. 
Very suddenly, you couldn’t stand to be in this house, this room for a second longer. You pulled out your phone, and told your dad you’d reconsidered. You took a few calming breaths, preparing yourself to rid your sister of the burden that was taking care of you, apparently. You shouldn’t be surprised by this. You'd been right, the whole time, to not trust her when she said she wanted you here. She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.
Doubt swirlied around in your head. Nothing made sense, nothing made any sense. There had always been one constant in your life, though. And that was being unwanted. Ingrid didn’t want you. Ingrid couldn’t want you. It was too good to be true. 
You stomped down the stairs, hearing Ingrid and Mapi’s voices grow quiet upon your approach. You assumed they’d been talking about you, and they had. About finding you a therapist. Not about wanting you to go. 
You entered the kitchen, startling both girls with the hard look on your face. “I’m going back to Norway.” You asked, voice monotone, but shaking dangerously as you regarded your sister and her girlfriend. 
“What?” Ingrid asked, thinking she must have misheard you. 
“I am going back to Norway. I texted Dad.” You turned to leave, but Mapi grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around. 
“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked. You could only glare at her.  
“You said you wanted to stay, solstråle, I don’t understand…” Ingrid said, trailing off. 
“You don’t want me here, Ingrid, and I don’t want to be here.” 
“Of course we want you here,” Ingrid began, growing more and more confused with each venomous word that you spewed at her. 
You wrenched your arm out of Mapi’s grasp and stepped towards your sister, your outstretched hand connected with her chest as you shoved her backwards. 
“Oye!” Mapi shouted, getting in between the two of you. You were beside yourself with rage, suddenly. Why had she lied? Why had she gotten your hopes up? 
“No. You. Don’t. Stop lying, both of you.” You pushed Mapi away from you then, ignoring the angry tears that had begun to well in your eyes. “You don’t want me here, you think I’d do better in Norway. I don’t speak Spanish, I don’t have any friends,  I’m too much work, you are young and you don’t need a teenager to take care of. I’m mean and quiet and stubborn and my own fucking mother doesn’t love me. I heard you earlier Ingrid, you don’t need to lie. I’m used to it. You don’t want me. Stop pretending you do.”
At some point during your speech, Mapi and Ingrid understood what had happened. You’d overheard something out of context, clearly. And it was evident that you’d reverted back to your original belief that they didn’t want you. It hurt them, how easily you’d been convinced. And suddenly, they weren’t confused and they weren’t angry that you’d pushed them. Their faces softened, and they inched closer to you and you hated it. Because everything inside of you was screaming to believe what you knew what they were about to say, to let yourself fall into their arms, for good this time. To trust them. 
You couldn’t. You couldn’t be hurt again. It would kill you. 
You stepped backwards, and both girls stopped moving. It was Ingrid that spoke first, her voice low and soothing. 
“Solstråle, I don’t believe any of that. Dad said all that, to try to convince us to let you go back to Norway. We want you here. I know it’s hard for you to believe us, honey, but we do. More than anything, we want you to stay.” 
You shook your head frantically, teardrops hitting the floor under you. “No. No.” 
Mapi nodded, stepping a bit closer. “Yes, mi sol. We want you here. We love you, and we want you to stay.”
“No, stop!” You shouted. Ingrid was crying now, and you tried not to care. “You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that. Please, stop lying, this is too confusing, and it hurts too much, please. Just let me go.” 
You didn’t mean you wanted them to let you go back to Norway. You wanted them to let you go. The tension in the air thickened at this, as both of them realized what you meant. 
“No. I won’t do that. You’re staying here, with me. Here, where you are loved, and wanted. You’re not going anywhere, you aren’t allowed to.” Ingrid said, carelessly wiping a tear off her cheek as she stepped closer to you. 
Mapi stepped closer, too. “Nena, I promise you. On everything I love. On my parents, on football, on Ingrid. I want you to stay. Please.” The emotion in the defender’s voice startled you, and very suddenly, all of the fight had gone out of you, all of the anger. 
You wiped your eyes like a child. Because really, that was the part of you crying. “Why?” You cried. “Why do you want me? No one wants me.” 
Mapi shook her head, for once at a loss for what to say, as Ingrid let out a rough sob at your words. “How could we not? You’re my baby sister, Solstråle. You are kind, funny, and caring. You’re a good person, honey. You are good, and we love you.” 
It was quiet as you heaved in a few breaths, looking between both girls as you tried to decide what was true and what was false. And, ultimately, when you made your decision, it was because you were too tired to do anything else. Too exhausted of hating yourself to continue punishing yourself. Too exhausted of not letting yourself believe that you were worthy of love. Because you craved it, so deeply inside of you. And as much as you didn’t want to, and as much as you wished you didn’t care, you did. 
You are good, Ingrid had said. And if you were good, you could let yourself be loved. 
“Do you promise?” You asked, your voice cracking at the same time Ingrid and Mapi felt their hearts break for the 10th time today, at how completely disbelieving you sounded. 
“I promise.” Ingrid said. You looked between her and Mapi silently, and Ingrid took a hesitant step towards you, before Mapi pulled her back, shaking her head slightly. You needed to go to them. You needed to decide, all by yourself. 
It was the desperation in your sister’s voice that really got you, the tears in her eyes. And maybe it was also the desperation inside yourself, too,  and the ache in your heart that you knew you didn’t need to carry anymore. You wrapped your arms tight around your abdomen, and prepared yourself to say the most vulnerable, most terrifying words you had ever said, and might ever say. 
“I want to stay with you guys.” 
The words were barely out of your mouth before you were being squished into Ingrid’s arms, Mapi’s quickly following. Both of them hugged you tight, giving you the comfort you had been trying to give yourself. You didn’t need to do that, anymore. They would do it for you. 
You wouldn’t have to do any of the things you’d spent a long time doing alone, alone anymore. 
It had been years and years of wishing you had a family that loved you, thinking you’d give anything for a family that cared about you again. It turned out you didn’t need to give anything. You could just… have it. You just deserved it. 
-------
def not the end of my girl sol ☀️ we'll see more of her... soon ish :)
hope everyone enjoyed this little series <3 I love and appreciate you all very much
also... i was 🤏 this close to leaving part 4 on a cliffhanger where mr. engen shows up but the second part wouldn't have been long enough and i am much too nice
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ma1dita · 2 months
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trouble's coming for you
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 3.7k
summary: (established relationship) suggestive banter lol The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. Also known as the three times Percy is completely oblivious about you two, plus the time he learns what L-O-V-E looks like for two teen demigods. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: PERCY POV!!! maybe the real enemy was the blue balls Luke got from a clueless 12-year-old. you’re gonna tell me you wouldn’t overthrow the gods too? scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)
(posted 2/29/24, edited!!! i think!!! four hours of sleep later and a big kiss to @hotchfiles miss lari as always for inspo mwah)
What’s in a name?
One of the last defining memories Percy Jackson had with his mother before arriving at Camp Half-Blood was her reminder that names have power. He’s held fast to that belief, treading carefully with his words in this unfamiliar place that he’s supposed to call home so soon after losing his own.
Being the new kid for the hundredth time in his life means that he’s accustomed to change, much less introducing himself as Percy Jackson, whatever that means at this point—but then becoming known simply as the kid who causes trouble. What then, is he supposed to do, when his first friend at camp introduces him to a girl who embodies the name trouble? 
To Luke, through Percy’s actions, it seems as if he’s trying to reclaim a crown that currently belongs to the beloved head counselor of Camp Half-Blood.
The dining pavilion is filled with mouth-watering scents and the sound of chattering campers to the point that it’s a bit overstimulating if he thinks too hard about it. Mr. Brunn—er, Chiron told him to take it easy after the events from yesterday, but he feels a bit tough on luck after making Luke run circles around camp trying to find what he’s good at.
“Is there a Greek god of disappointment? Maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” Percy says glumly, pushing the mac and cheese around on his plate. Luke sighs, letting the boy to his right speak.
“Oizys,” Chris mumbles through full cheeks before he cocks his head at the 12-year-old, “but she’s a goddess, and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s more like failure.”
Luke looks to Chris with a half smile before looking back at the kid and saying, “We’re gonna find the thing you’re good at. I know it.” He looks like he’s going to say something else before something, or someone catches his attention and it’s almost like the older boy is transfixed, eyes shining with mischief or something deeper that Percy’s young brain couldn’t comprehend just yet. 
“And here comes trouble…” Luke says with a smirk, eyes following your figure until your feet take you to their table. The sandy-haired boy twists around, expecting to see a goddess of some sort until he sees you, violet eyes and a lilt of something sinister—giving off the energy of someone who holds power but also likes to fuck with it. You cross your arms over your chest, gaze floating over the three boys and at the tip of your chin, Luke takes his plate off the table, prompting you to hop up and slide onto the smooth surface in front of him. 
“You look like someone kicked your puppy, so you must be the new kid. Peter, right?”
A snort of laughter comes from behind your slouched form, Luke partially concealed but body obviously shaking with amusement as he looks at you.
“He might just turn out to be a puppy kicker one day,” the son of Hermes jokes, “Meet Percy Jackson.”
“That’s not…”
You sigh at Luke’s idea of a joke, face incredulous as you lean over and conjure strawberries onto Percy’s plate. He’d never seen anything like that before, someone so casual about their abilities, but he didn’t have much of a reference past yesterday. This camp keeps surprising him in ways he’s never imagined possible.
“Heard D gave you a hard time earlier, sorry about him—I’d blame it on withdrawals but he’s just an asshole,” you offer with a smile and a handshake as you introduce yourself, watching the boy’s eyes widen with wonder.
“It’s not your fault…I’m used to being the new kid.”
Eyebrows furrowing at his tone, you lean in closer, voice turning serious. You’re a lot like Mr. D in the sense that it’s easy for you to poke at the kids who come through here for a reaction to make sure they’re okay mentally. When they don’t react is usually the call for help.
“Well, new kid, if anyone gives you a problem here at camp, you let me know. Even if it’s these two hooligans, or if it’s my dad.”
“You’re talking to our lovely head counselor, Percy. She calls the shots around here,” Chris chimes in jest. But only one part of your sentence sticks in his mind as he whips his head up from munching on a berry. 
“He’s your dad?”
“Yeah, unfortunately,” you giggle, “and though you’re sweet and I would love to have you as a sibling, he kind of has a rule on having too many kids at once, unlike other gods.”
“A rule he’s already broken,” Luke drones, hand fidgeting with the black bandana tied around your thigh, “but who knows? If Percy ends up to be one of you, well…may the gods have mercy on us all.”
A deadpan stare is directed at the scarred boy, and you swipe at his curls like a feral cat, making him wince and laugh all the same as he bats you away.
“Tough shit, 11. Do you know how many hellions inhibit your cabin? Your dad inflicts agony on me personally every time another one of your siblings walks past the boundaries.”
The petty squabble is interrupted by the chime of the bell over your heads, but you two are still in a world of your own. It reminds Percy of the time he watched two subway rats fight over a pizza slice on the 6—he didn’t really know who to root for then either. Chris sighs and gets up, nudging Luke to follow, which he does begrudgingly as he claps his large hand on your leg. You hiss.
“Our turn!” Luke says with a hint of sarcasm. 
“Our turn for what?”
“Burnt offerings,” you explain as you chomp on a strawberry, “the gods like the smell, so it gets their attention before you say a prayer.” You notice Percy stay in his seat, which makes a smile pull at your lips, “Think you’re off the hook for today though, bud. Or you can be just like me.”
“Don’t give him any ideas, trouble. I’ll throw in a few for Hestia.” Luke chews at his lip as he leans over you to grab a few berries off of Percy’s plate to toss into the fire for you. 
“You don’t pray?”
“I’m not really the religious type. I’ve got what I need,” you concede, leaning back on your palms as you watch the son of Hermes stand for a few extra seconds at the hearth. “Besides, my godrent is right over there, and Luke worries enough for me. It’s more his thing,” you say with a lazy smile. The campers filing out of the dining hall wave at you and you enthusiastically greet everyone with dancing fingers. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone that…happy to be on the job, but things work differently around here, so he doesn’t think much of your upbeat attitude.
“Eat up. Some of that strength has to go to you. Gonna need it.” You say ruffling Percy’s hair, and when Luke comes back, he tugs at the shoelaces of your boots until you kick his hands away. You both share a smile like people do a secret, even here in the open air.
“Do they like the smell of burnt mac and cheese?” Percy says curiously, eating another spoonful of the meal. His head hurts at another thing to consider in this brand-new world he’s walked into.
“They like the smell of begging,” Luke grins, and you laugh like a firework going off, making Percy’s lips pull up into a smile.
“I’m not much of a beggar though, if you ask me.”
The son of Hermes hums at you like he wants to say otherwise, and you slap his chest as you suck air through your teeth. Beneath the wood top of the table and with Percy being none the wiser, your fingers intertwine with Luke’s like it’s second nature. 
“You burn what you’ll miss the most. Then they know you really mean what you’re about to say, so they listen.” 
Luke takes a breath after explaining how things work for the nth time to the kid, knowing Percy’s quite persistent about making his dad notice him. He remembers being jaded too—striving to be the best for a lick of his dad’s attention and all of his efforts were done in vain. Even though the kid’s arrival at camp was a bit unexpected, Luke doesn’t mind showing him around. 
Hopefully, less work on your end means that he can spend more time with you once this is over with— but by the looks of how the day is going so far, he’s not so sure. He hopes his offerings reach the gods and they grant him extra patience for his good deeds. Watching you laugh at something Percy says as you all walk out of the dining pavilion, Luke wonders if you know that every offering he burns for the goddess of the hearth and home is so that she’ll protect you.
—-
“Lights out in 10 minutes, cabin 11! Everyone ready for bed?”
The sound of your voice jolts Percy awake from his post-dinner nap and he blinks slowly until he sees you walking towards him with extra blankets and pillows in your grasp. The other campers were kind of stand-offish, and after praying to his mom he was overwhelmed with the feeling of missing her, so much so that it drained the rest of his energy.
“Long day, huh bud?”
Drowsy with sleep, for a moment, Percy forgets where he is—the unfamiliar walls of the cabin making him shift with unease as he rubs at his eyes. The blurry version of you makes his chest go warm and for a second, it’s like—
“Mom?”
He blinks again, his pale face turning red when he realizes his slip-up. Percy’s shoulders drop when he hears giggles from somewhere in the big cabin and you reach out to smooth his hair away from his face with a gentle smile.
“Don’t worry about it. Everyone who first comes to 11 gets nightmares. For some of them, they don’t leave,” you mutter. Percy notices your eyes flicker over to Luke’s bed, where he’s zipping up his hoodie and chatting with one of his half-siblings. Cabin 11 is finally quieting down for the night—children scrambling into their bunks, doing nighttime routines, and having quiet conversations. It’s all so weird, this being everyone’s normal.
“You’re not alone though. Saw you earlier, outside. I still pray to my mom sometimes. She's quite the listener,” you say with a sad twinkle in your eye. The kid sniffs as you hand him the pillows and blankets, finally meeting your gaze.
“Did your mom…” Die too? The words feel like lead in his throat, feeling heavy as he swallows it down. He doesn’t want to cry in front of the pretty counselor, much less speak the truth, because if he says it out loud, it means his mom dying must have been real. Also since you’ve seen him sit in the dark of the forest burning blue jelly beans like a freak. What he didn’t know is that you pride yourself on being one. It takes one to know one, after all.
“Yeah. Makes for one hell of an origin story, but I found my place here, and people who care. I know you will too, when you’re rea—” Your words trail off when you see Luke walk past the both of you with a cool expression before he nods towards the door, and you squeeze Percy’s shoulder before getting up.
“Night guys! It’s getting late so we’ll have to do a story next time, okay?” You walk down the aisle patting heads and tucking in smaller campers, and he hears you whack the younger Stoll brother when he teasingly says, “It’s not fair that Luke gets a bedtime story and we don’t…”
“Connor, enough. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up and called me mom, so save it for tomorrow.” He must have been the one laughing earlier.
“Everyone say goodnight trouble!” Luke calls out with a coy expression, making you roll your eyes as you flick the light off to a symphony of jeers. It’s finally quiet as Percy is propped up against some pillows that smell like raspberries and soft cotton before he realizes he has to pee. 
But Chris said harpies hunt kids after curfew… he thinks.
In a moment of sheer panic, Percy looks around in the darkness of the cabin before the sound of your cackling pierces through the dim light from the outside. He hops up from the makeshift cot and tugs his shoes back on, slowly creeping past the long row of bunks to not disturb other campers before he gets to the door. Your head turns quickly to the intrusion as you spring away from Luke, stubbing a cigarette underneath the wood panel out of sight when Percy steps through the doorway. 
“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom,” he says sheepishly as Luke nods, scratching his neck and leaning a far distance away from you. Under the low burning lamps, Percy notices Luke’s cheeks redden and he wonders if he is interrupting something, but the urge to go increases as he steps between you two.
“Right. I’ll walk you to yours?” Luke blurts in one breath. With a wordless smile on your lips, you nod before Percy purposely interrupts this time.
“I can walk her, it’s on the way to the bathrooms, right?”
If only this poor kid knew he was being the cockblock of the century.
“Yeah, Percy’s got me. The harpies won’t like you missing curfew, Castellan,” you tease, stepping around him with a shit-eating grin. Your hair almost floats in the gentle breeze, and Luke rolls his eyes.
“Stay out of trouble. I mean it,’ he sighs, before shoving you off the porch, and you laugh at the irony of his words. Looking back at Luke, Percy noticed his eyes were on you like he wanted to live in your skin, which was equal parts disgusting and confusing to the 12-year-old. His steps double in pace as you both walk down the path and a brief side glance at your stifled smile quickly makes the kid wonder if you’d let him. Pushing the sleeves of Luke’s hoodie past your elbows, you wave at Percy’s rushing figure as he almost bolts to the bathroom and you lean against the doorway of your empty cabin. You turn the light on and look across the way to see your boyfriend still leaning against his door, so you flip him off. Of course, he takes that as his cue to saunter over.
But then the loud clanging sound of pipes bursting reaches both of your ears and toilet water floods the dirt near the back end of your cabin. 
So close.
“I’m gonna go check on Annie to see if she’s still on duty. Tough luck, babe,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before walking in the direction that Percy went, sending the son of Hermes to drag his feet towards your cabin, alone (he didn’t expect to fall asleep propped over your covers waiting up for you, but a lot happened in that damn bathroom).
“Hey, today feel like a winning kind of day to you?” Annabeth smirks at the son of Hermes. Next to them, Percy feels a hand clap him on the shoulder and all three of them turn to see you donning red.
“Didn’t you three hear the conch? Wouldn’t want you to fall behind,” you say with a grin as Luke steps up to you and whistles lowly.
“Didn’t know you were playing today. It’s a shame you look that good in red.”
Annabeth fake gags as she crosses her arms to say, “You’re also currently on enemy territory if you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, you wound me. I’m not a threat. Percy, I obviously don’t have the flag, right?”
He nods a bit dumbly, still worried about the mechanics of the game and the part he has to play for the blue team, but no one else seems to share his concerns.
“Anyways, sorry I’m not on your team, Perce. The Ares kids snatched me up as soon as my name was on the roster, so I came to wish you all luck.”
“This better not be a diversion tactic, trouble,” Luke simpers, playfully tugging at your staff, which you use for leverage to step up onto a rock to meet him at eye level.
“Nah. You know I like the competition, angelface,” you whisper, almost daring him to do something.
“Bite me, trouble.”
There’s a fire in his eyes you’d love to stoke, but now’s not the time or place. You can’t help but indulge though—the both of you enjoy the reactions you can pull from each other.
“You’d like it too much.”
“Alright now,” Annabeth groans, calling your name, rolling her eyes as she pulls at Luke’s arm, “Gotta remember he’s your enemy!” 
“I’M TRYING!” You laugh, shaking your head and walking back towards your team as you shoot them a fake salute. It all happens too quickly as Percy’s unable to catch the spitfire words between the two of you, thinking further about how he might get maimed during this game (which in the grand scheme of things, he almost does. Thanks Clarisse).
“Those two are hopeless! Walk faster, sunshine—we lost too much time watching whatever that was.” Percy stumbles along the forest path as he follows Annabeth, the both of them leaving Luke smirking to himself as he follows the rest of their team. 
Hours later, at Clarisse’s muddy feet and holding her broken spear, Percy hears cheering in the distance as he watches the blue team led by Luke waving the red flag in one hand and your legs supported by his other. You’re in a fireman’s hold across his shoulders and everyone watches as the son of Hermes spins you around like a Tilt-a-Whirl until the sound of your shrieks is audible from the shoreline. He sets you down gently, dominant hand still around your waist as he snickers, “Got my win and my girl. Must be time to celebrate.” You laugh at his absurdity, pulling his helmet off and wiping the sweat off his forehead with your bandana.
“You’re always going to be a loser in my eyes.” 
Slapping the plush of your hip, the sound echoes in the air—suddenly quiet as you gasp. But you’re not looking at Luke anymore, but rather the gleaming trident above Percy’s head as it’s revealed he’s a forbidden child. His jaw tightens at the sight, and there are a lot of emotions running through him, remembering Thalia and knowing that his plans will have to be altered once more because of Percy Jackson. You squeeze his hand before walking away from him to follow your dad and Chiron to the Big House, shooting him a nervous glance.
Damn.
The boys have been sparring for hours, and just as you think Percy’s getting the hang of it, Luke thrusts forward with an energy no one should have towards a 12-year-old. Although a bit concerning, he does have a lot to catch up on how to fight like a demigod before his quest in a few days.
“Take a break or else you’ll be crawling away from camp by the end of the week,” you joke, handing Percy and Luke bottles of cold water. Your boyfriend takes big gulps before pouring the rest over his head, leaving you gaping and a little hot under his stare as he nudges your chin and winks.
“You’re doing that on purpose!”
Luke shrugs slyly, and the both of you watch Percy catch his breath. He leans over your shoulder, the tone of his voice sultry as it tickles your ear, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet.” 
You bite your lip, before bursting with laughter—which isn’t exactly the reaction he thought you’d have. Maybe he should’ve finished reading the sonnet before falling asleep, but you always take too long with your nighttime skincare routine.
“That doesn’t mean what you think it means, but you’re cute for trying,” you coo, leaning closer so that your cheek touches his. Luke’s whole face is warm from exertion and now embarrassment, but he smiles nonetheless at the proximity. He can’t believe he still misses you, even when you’re skin-to-skin like this.
“That stanza…Isn’t it about names being meaningless?” Percy says between gasps of air before he pours the rest of the water bottle over his head like Luke did. He’s looking up at the both of you as he leans against a tree, instantly feeling more rejuvenated.
You jerk up from your seated position on the large rocks, excited to talk about Shakespeare, and Luke almost pouts at the loss of your attention.
“Yeah! Good job, bud. I forget you went to a hoity-toity charter school,” you say tongue-in-cheek, before turning back to your boy.
“So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and, for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself. You’re gonna have to interpret that one yourself, angelface.” 
“Trust I have no fucking clue but you sound really hot when you talk dirty to me,” Luke says with a shrug. Percy laughs at that, before finally bringing up the question that’s been on his mind since Luke introduced you to him.
“Why do you call her trouble? She seems okay to me.”
“Thanks,” you say dryly, but the older boy leans on his arm with a lovestruck expression as he gazes at you. Oh…Percy thinks, brain feeling freshly washed. How did he miss that?
“She used to get in trouble a lot,” he says, before you elbow him hard, “I mean, we used to get in trouble, she’d always drag me into it.”
“You always offered! Don’t twist the fucking story,” you shriek, and the boys laugh at your exasperation.
“Yeah anyways, she’d always find me. Still does, my partner in crime. Trouble always comes for me,” Luke murmurs, waggling his eyebrows and intertwining your fingers together. Your jaw drops and cheeks flush and Percy thinks he understands better now, but gets confused again with what you do next.
You almost slap the goddamn scar off that boy’s face.
It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world. -Sylvia Plath
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