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vertigala · 4 months

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*Grabs you by the throat* Listen to me you TMAGP-loving freaks. Listen to me right now. RedCanary might be the host for this universe's Jonah Magnus.

This is under the assumption that TMAGP takes place in a parallel universe that may or may not have already had the fears in it prior to Jon releasing them at the end of TMA.

RedCanary goes to explore the Magnus Institute ruins. They become paranoid because the Eye is watching them. They pick up a wooden box with strange symbols carved into it. They go to put it back. Next we hear from them, they post an image of gouged out eyes with the caption "Canaries should stay above ground."

They found the tunnels, hence that caption. Then they found Jonah Magnus's body sitting down there, waiting for a new host.

In this universe, the Magnus Institute burned down in 1999. Maybe in this universe Gertrude went through with her original plan of burning the place to the ground after finding out Elias was actually Jonah in 1997. Either way, let's say Jonah's original body is down there, maybe with Elias's body and his eyes and all that, and with his plans foiled, he's just chilling down there waiting for an opportunity which RedCanary then gives him. This is my going theory due to the specificity of the caption "canaries should stay above ground" (referring to the tunnels, and also it being in third-person) and the fact that RedCanary themselves would be pretty unlikely to be able to post that picture of THEIR OWN EYES GOUGED OUT unless it was Magnus assuming their body and identity and being a freak about it.

But there's more.

Narratively speaking, it makes sense for the third voice in the computer to be Jonah Magnus, right? If Jon and Martin ended up in this universe as voices in a computer, the only other person sharing their fate would have to be Magnus, given how TMA ended. Recall, also, the boot-up sequence in the trailer of TMAGP.

[id: a screenshot of the text from the TMAGP teaser, which says “initializing J.01… OK/initializing M.01… OK/initializing J.02… OK”. end id.]

Jonathan, Martin, and Jonah, right? Unless Augustus is gonna be a new J name or this is just an unrelated easter egg but like. It's Jonah right?? Right??? And he's watching the O.I.R.A through the systems like a good little voyeur, and Colin knows it!

So now we possibly have TWO Jonah Magnuses in this universe!! That's absurd!! One from the TMAGP universe now loose and running around in RedCanary's body, and one from the TMA universe trapped in a computer. But if this is true...doesn't that mean there would be two Jons and Martins too?

And listen...I'm thinking about what Jonny and Alex said during that liveshow panel about this story's themes regarding "what makes a human." If we dare to hope that Jon and Martin (and Jonah, if it's his voice in the computer) are going to gain consciousness and once again become proper characters...then, are they going to simply stay in the computer? Or are they going to "manifest" physically? Are they going to UPLOAD themselves into THEIR OWN TMAGP UNIVERSE BODIES?

@doomatix and I have been going crazy over these theories and they were the one that initially considered RedCanary's new identity as Jonah Magnus. Are our facts wrong? Does any of this even make sense? We haven't seen anyone else posting about this particular theory. Someone help us we are rotting. And don't even get me started on how GWEN would fit into this--

#the magnus protocol #the magnus archives #tma #tmagp #spoilers #theory #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonah magnus #elias bouchard

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needle-noggins · 1 year

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(CW for SA, suicidal ideation) Here we go. My favorite and simultaneously least favorite panel of Vash and Knives.

I've seen a few interpretations of this scene and before we dive into the one that really struck me, let's start with the more... chill one. We're finally introduced to the third gun of Trigun, Vash's angel arm. And the way we're introduced to it involves Knives forcing him to pull the trigger. Of course, since no one knows anything about Knives, the people of Noman's Land blame Vash for Fifth Moon, and Vash likewise blames himself (this is kinda a spoiler but if you've been paying attention, it's just par for the course). However, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, Knives is. It brings up an interesting moral question of blame - do we blame the gun (and Vash, who is being used/objectified as a weapon here), or the person who wanted it to happen? Guns don't kill people, genocidal twins do!

Now for the awful interpretation, the one that makes me cry and wish Vash was real so I could hug him and pay for his therapy. And really highlights how awful Knives is and how far he'd go for his brother in his own, fucked-up way. I touched on this in a previous post about Legato and the Murder Cafe, and the whole time I was thinking about Fifth Moon but didn't want to say anything for the sake of spoilers.

So. Pay attention to the way Vash and Knives are standing. Knives, when he first grabbed Vash's head, was standing in front of him. He moves behind him to better control him and yeah, he's still controlling him via hand on head, and now he's got his other hand gripping Vash's chest, where feathers/wings are manifesting. Knives is assaulting him. If you wanna get crazy with it and say that the angel arm is kinda phallic, you could say... yeah. This is rape. I heard that specific interpretation once and while I accepted it I also don't know if that would be generally accepted or if I'd be called out for it, so I'm trying to tread lightly here.

It also doesn't escape me that of course the angel arm has feminine features like the plants - the plants that, again, humans are exploiting for their ability to create. There's a lot of feminist commentary to be made here but many people have said it better than me. Specifically I'm thinking of this one post I saw about gender fuckery and Tristamp Vash. Anyway.

Also, the atomic bomb/black hole/sun/whatever that is in the middle... It's just so powerful. It's terrifying. The eldritch body horror here is a punch to the gut. What the fuck, Trigun? I thought this was a funky space western!!!

Oh, and here's more commentary on the following few panels:

Vashussy shot, Knives is still right behind him. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about how bad this pose is for them. Knives, you sick fuck.

Vash shoots himself in the leg (a key difference from '98 trigun, lol), because of course he does, but it doesn't free him from the arm.

The arm's getting darker/the light inside is getting lighter! Stampede did an awesome job with their interpretation of the angel arm and I don't think I would have understood it without that. Also, on my first read I didn't notice that Vash is literally levitating, which is cool, but also terrifying because ?? he's not in control of that either??

Finally. A super painful, minimalist, double-page spread. Nightow loves 'em. Vash thinks he's dying (maybe?) and he wishes he had never existed. It's not suicidal ideation per se, but he wishes he didn't exist at all because he's already caused enough suffering. This is a low for him, because he believes so strongly in the concept of the Blank Ticket. (Come on, soupy brain bitch boy, get it together!) He's a monster, it's just how he was born, and he's not in control. Very specifically too, he says "we", and then changes it to "I"... he doesn't blame Knives at all, and that's very him. I want to shake him! Stop playing the martyr, Vash!

#trimax #trigunbookclub #cw assault #cw sa #ive never tagged content warnings before please help if i didnt do it well enough #cw sui ideation #vash the stampede #millions knives #also if you say ONE WORD about plancest i will kill you with my mind because you have sorely misunderstood the point here #posting this makes me so nervous ngl #dont hate me

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bambiraptorx · 3 months

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[I.D. Six panel comic. In the first teen Draxum is in the boxing stance, still crying, but with a look of shock and confusion on his face as from off screen, someone calls "Hey, what's going on here? ...Draxum?" In the second, Draxum looks over his shoulder, his head angles upwards. Raph looks at him with concern and says "Draxum, is that you? What happened?" with happened underlined. The third panel shows Draxum and Raph facing each other from a side view, with Draxum clearly shorter by a foot and a half or so. He asks "...Με γνωρίζεις?" which means "Do you know me?" Raph responds, "I, uh, don't understand that." In the fourth panel, Raph holds out his arms, his eyes closed with a nervous expression, and says, "Look, uh, you seem pretty stressed. Do you want a hug?" He thinks "I hope he understands this". In the fifth panel, Draxum looks up, tears in his eyes and his brows furrowed. He sniffles. In the last, Draxum goes in for the hug and Raph wraps his arms around him. Raph smiles, still somewhat concerned, and says "Okay, okay, there we go. I gotcha, you're safe." He thinks "he's so small?? Why's he so small??" End I.D.]

A follow up to this ask. Raph sees a crying teen and immediately goes into big brother mode. (Yes Teen Draxum is Mikey sized he is tiny and still growing.)

By the way, my poll is coming up! If you wanna see more teen Draxum (specifically, him getting into shenanigans with the turtles once he isn't crying anymore) you should vote for me lol

Also, a little bonus if you're wondering what Leo and Donnie were doing about this since they were watching teen Draxum here:

[I.D. Donnie is on a video call with Leo and holds up his phone. He looks relaxed and grins slightly. Over the phone, Leo says "Is Draxum about to get into a fight??" Donnie says "Yep." Leo asks "Are you gonna do anything?" Donnie says "lmao nope," and signs 'no' in ASL. End I.D.]

@tmntaucompetition

#rottmnt #rottmnt au #minor interference au #image described #rottmnt baron draxum #teen draxum #rottmnt raph #raphael hamato #rottmnt donnie #my art #rottmnt fanart #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt competition

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peachesofteal · 11 months

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Simon praising Darling for being a good girl when she announces she’s pregnant 😮‍💨 like I’m sorry sir, who gave you the right to be so damn hot when you’re FICTIONAL?!

And Darling is just confused af about wtf he means. Like does she ever find out they fucked with her BC and knocked her up?? I must know, I must have more 😈🤭

He's like, 'you've done so well, darling' and she's like 'wait, what the fuck just happened?'

AU - not canon for Dead Disco Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief mention of smut, mature themes. Angst. Vomiting. Doctors. Pregnant reader. Relationship issues. Dark themes.

"I've got ya." Johnny coos while he rubs your back where you are kneeling over the toilet, breakfast and bile coming up your throat with every other heave.

"I hate this." you moan between pants, propping your arm up to rest your head. He clucks his tongue, standing to run a cloth under the sink and returning to press it to your forehead gently. It's cold, and soft, and moving in easy circles.

"I know, darling. I know." You push away, slumping into his arms, letting him cuddle you close while he leans back against the bathroom wall and you count his heartbeats from where your head lays on his chest.

The door creaks open, and Simon's halfway inside, peering down at the two of you, mild concern in his eyes while he studies your slouching form.

"Third time today." He notes with a frown, and you nod. They count, keep track of everything, so they can recall it for your doctor's visits and make sure everything is still within 'normal' range. Morning sickness, your doctor has assured them too many times to count, is very normal.

"Morning sickness, the nausea, vomiting, is all normal."

"She's sick multiple times a day." Simon grits out. Johnny shifts his weight nervously, while you sigh and pat his hand comfortingly.

"If we were seeing drastic weight loss, or the panels were coming back outside of normal range, I would be concerned. But that's not happening. So, you've nothing to worry about." You give her a relieved smile, and hope they'll actually listen this time, although you know it's kind of pointless. "So," she claps her hands, and then motions to the table, and Johnny visibly brightens. This is everyone's favorite part, the ultrasound. You always glue your eyes to the screen, holding you breath to see the baby, the little blob in black and grey, your own little bean. You're obsessed with the sound of the heartbeat, taking comfort in its strength, its steadiness. So much so you bought a fetal doppler, just so you could all hear it at home. "Should we take a peek?"

"I'm fine." you assure him, holding a hand out. "Help me up." He grips you by your elbow, pulling you to your feet and into him briefly, so he can nuzzle his nose into your hair with a deep breath. "Now get out, I'm gross. Need to wash my face." You insist, pushing both him and Johnny into the hallway playfully before closing the door.

You have a lot of drawers, in this bathroom. Almost all of them actually, and most of them are a bit of a mess, unorganized, things strewn about. Sometimes, like now, you have to dig around for things. You're looking for something specific, a heavier moisturizer, one that can combat some of the dryness around your nose. Your fingers flip through tubes and tubs and creams, old mascara and half busted hair clips. You tsk, irritated that you're having a hard time finding the blue jar, until-

Your fingers brush against your old birth control pack. Encased in a cream colored piece of plastic, little pills lined up in a row. Just the sight of it frustrates you. After so many years, it finally failed. Finally let you down.

You don't know, but you pull it out. Maybe to look at it closer, to see if it will be expired by the time you finally need it again, or maybe, just to look at the thing that was your one constant since you were practically a child.

Either way. You study it closer, and that's how you notice the corner of the pill tray. The little foil piece on the corner is lifted, just a smidge, just enough for you not to notice, but when you peel it, it comes away so easily, so perfectly, with minimal adhesive. Like's it been pulled away before and put back in place. Like it's been moved.

When you realize, the floor room spins. It shudders around you, bathroom walls curving closer and closer to where you stand in front of the sink, eyes wide, dumbfounded. They wouldn't. They wouldn't. Would they? You blink at yourself in the mirror. You look, tired, but mostly healthy, a true testament to absolute hovering that has been occurring in your life over the past five months. You never lift a finger, you don't want for anything.

Because you're pregnant.

Because you're pregnant, with their baby, that you thought you got knocked up with on accident.

Your stomach curdles. They did this on purpose. Your fingers clench against the stone of the sink while you remember, all those nights when they pressed you to the mattress and made you see stars, while they filled you with their come over and over, every day. They were actively trying. They wanted this. A giant black hole rips open inside of you. It sucks your joy, your happiness, your dreams of future into it immediately. It dismantles everything you thought you knew as truth, takes a hammer and smashes apart every single second of the last five months.

They took your choice away. You stomach flips, and the you’re flinging yourself back in front of the toilet, bile spewing on your lips while you dry heave. It burns, the sting matching the sear of the tears that track down your face.

How could they do this?

#dead disco #peaches asks #peaches writes #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #tw pregnancy #baby trap au

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brother-emperors · 5 months

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ANTONY: if Caesar doesn't set Sextius Baculus up in a house worthy of Lucullus for all that he did, I'll kill him myself.

so the fun thing about the Caesarians is that there is. weird stuff happening in there. a lot of focus seems to go towards non Caesarian dissent, specifically with the conspiracy of Cassius and Brutus, but there's like. stuff going on in Caesar's own camp that's very Intriguing.

There's a couple places where you can see some clear points that would be grounds for a conspiratorial falling out between Caesar and Trebonius, but from the way that Trebonius tries to seduce Antony over to conspiracy, I wonder if there was a secret third thing that was going on since Antony turned him down but. didn't snitch intriguing!

anyway, all of this is to say that this means I get to invent some shit. like, I'm drawing comics which is already invention, but this is one where I get to really start throwing stuff into the narrative soup because it has to set up three different character arcs (Trebonius, and then Antony twice)

(in theory, this would be explained in the story itself if I did the entirety of the Gallic Wars out as a comic. which I have not done because I do not want to draw horses. I wanted to fuck around with some panel layouts and not draw a single horse, so now I will provide the context and revisit this in the future)

Antony's comment about Trebonius running himself into a grave has to do with the Caesar's Gallic Wars have a lot of men doing a whole lot for Caesar that has me going. hey. hey guys. uh.

specifically, Sextius Baculus:

The War for Gaul, Julius Caesar (trans James J. O'Donnell)

and the closing comment from Antony is playing on several things: romans claiming gods on their family tree (see: Legendary Genealogies in Late-Republican Rome, T.P. Wiseman for more on this) and then divinization arc of Caesar and Octavian. Antony himself will later be taking part the same kind of god-association that has prompted his disdain in this scene

At any rate, when Antony made his entry into Ephesus, women arrayed like Bacchanals, and men and boys like Satyrs and Pans, led the way before him, and the city was full of ivy and thyrsus-wands and harps and pipes and flutes, the people hailing him as Dionysus Giver of Joy and Beneficent. For he was such, undoubtedly, to some; but to the greater part he was Dionysus Carnivorous and Savage.

Plutarch, Antony 24

and the second layer of thematic fun: Antony's later relationship with his soldiers is something similar to what Caesar had with his here, but ultimately: decayed. Antony's love affair with his military makes his failure to lead well at the end a worse betrayal. at some point I'll talk about Antony's Tormentous Military Nightmare and cite some academic sources, but Linda Bamber's description of the final tragedy of Antony and his men lives in my head rent free

Cleopatra and Antony, Linda Bamber

where's the fun in doing identity focused tragedy if you don't become unrecognizable to yourself later on! isn't that right mark antony

ko-fi⭐ bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app

#gaius trebonius #mark antony #man. this explanation for the scene. is longer than the three panels.#anyway i changed my mind about how trebonius gets his eyebrow scar. he gets it during his Fight with caelius #oh! the crassus mentioned here is the eldest son! sure hope something bad doesn't happen like his father and brother dying haha ha h--#(head in hands)#long post #komiks tag #drawing tag #roman republic tag #anyway. i need to. i need to get my sketch book. this book i was reading called trebonius a pro cassian commander #and im fucking. losing my mind about that. oh my god.

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indieyuugure · 3 months

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What does“dudes，tunes and mutagen”mean？

It’s the name of the third chapter.

It’s meant to sum up the themes of the chapter into three words.

Specifically, “dudes” is relating to the fact that their team will consist of all boys; Leo, Raph Mikey, and Casey(April’s staying to help/keep an eye on Donnie), “tunes” is because they’re going to use the Shellraiser which the boys will often blast rock music while driving, and “Mutagen” is the thing they’re going out to get as was explained in the penultimate panel of the episode:

Good question! :]

#tmnt #q&a #the mutation situation

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comicaurora · 11 months

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How did you capture the feeling of ominous silence so vividly on this page? I can't imagine it's easy to effectively communicate silence in a medium without sound.

This question is so interesting it might spark a Detail Diatribe way down the line, but the bottom line is I think comics as a medium have a fascinating relationship with sound and how it synergizes or clashes with comics' unique ability to shape their pacing and implied timescale through the use of panel layouts and the inclusion or exclusion of movement lines and sound effects.

Gonna go back to Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics for this first bit-

Time in comics is incredibly fluid and strange, and the pace of the story is laid out by the artist but controlled by the reader, who reads the comic at a pace they determine. The artist can only imply and guide for how long they think any one panel should feel like it lasts, but they can't control how long the reader looks at it.

But the inclusion of implied sound - dialogue, SFX - subtly changes that.

Narration is the only text you can include in a comic that feels timeless and disconnected from the pacing of a panel. Dialogue, sound effects - and speedlines, a kind of visual indicator of movement and sound, also contribute to the feeling of how much time a specific panel should take.

Panel size and layout do a lot of the heavy lifting - wider panels can feel like they should take longer, narrow panels might feel sharper and shorter.

But when a panel isn't silent, sound - and correspondingly time, which is deeply linked with sound - is communicated through dialogue and sound effects, assigning an implied speed of the events in the panel.

If you want to communicate movement - a process that IMPLIES sound - you might include speed and motion lines and sound effects, which create the impression that the panel they're included in last as long as that sound effect does. A sharp "WAK" is probably a fraction of a second, but the ball moving through the air might take several seconds - it's moving, but we don't automatically know for how long, and the narration over it contributes to that feeling of timelessness. Then in the third panel we get the impression that the dialogue is punctuated by the "SMASH!" as the ball finally hits home. We can imagine how this would play out if it were animated, but the picture it's painting is a highly complex composite of the presence and absence of sound effects across these panels.

A "silent" panel with no dialogue, no movement lines and no sound effects can feel like a single moment frozen in time, no matter how dynamic the actual illustration is.

And even if you don't think that you think about this, you notice when the implied time of the panel and the implied time of the panel's implied sound don't line up. A movement that feels like it should take a fraction of a second doesn't align with sound effects or dialogue that feels like it should take the better part of a minute.

The way I lay out my pages is sometimes intended to produce effects like speed-ramping - going from normal-speed to slow motion by chaining panels with movement and sound effects with panels that have neither.

The silent panel feels like a frozen or slow-motion moment intercut between fast, frantic action, and if that middle panel had sound effects or speed lines, that would compromise the effect.

Realistically, total silence is an extreme rarity, but the stylization of comics typically ignores this. Sound effects are relegated to important or key movements - we don't add rustling sound effects every time somebody's clothing moves, but we might add it to a cape flourish. Every sound effect in a panel comes with an implied runtime. Overlaying several sound effects can produce a frenetic, fast-paced effect that implies that the panels are happening very quickly and a lot is happening in that short span of time.

But, for instance, adding dialogue might disrupt that impression, because the dialogue carries its own implied timestamp that is usually longer than a single sound effect. If the characters are too chatty, that can make the moment feel like it's struggling with two very different paces - one determined by the talking, one by the action. Because of that, I try to keep them mostly separated - dialogue-panels will have minimal sound effects, and movement-heavy panels will be dialogue-free.

This isn't something I usually think too hard about - it's just a matter of feeling it out until the pacing flows right. None of this occurred to me until I went back with an analytical eye. It's a remarkably sneaky element of the medium that I'm really intrigued about exploring.

#asks #art stuff #writing stuff

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livefastdrivefaster · 6 months

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We Aren't Friends | LN4

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pairing: Lando x Fem!Driver

Summary: Finding out what Lando really thinks about you.

Word count: 1.7k words

Note: This is the first thing I've ever written so I hope it's not completely awful! Bit of fluff (some angst and swearing).

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Media duties were one of the most tedious parts about your job as a Formula One driver. Every race week, you were forced into doing hundreds of interviews, shuttled in front of one camera and then another. Today was a driver’s panel, and there were a select few of you in a room full of reporters waiting to ask questions. You sat on the edge of the stage, with Alex, Zhou, Lando and Valtteri filling the remaining seats.

“Let’s open up to the floor for questions.” The host of the session states.

Instantly, every reporter shoots their hand into the air, starting their voice memos, checking through their notes. Just as the actual racing is competitive, the media around Formula One is especially cutthroat. You need to fight for attention in these types of events. One woman in the second row stands out in particular, and the host singles her out to ask the first question.

“My question is for Ms Y/L/N.” The reporter states. You lean forward in your chair, smiling at the woman. Reporters often direct their questions to specific drivers, and you were frequently asked questions about your experience being a female driver, or something similar to that general theme.

“In Formula One, they say the higher you rise, the sharper the knives. As your car is particularly competitive this year, have you found that rivalries with other drivers are also being felt off the track?” It was an interesting question. It was true that politics were constantly rife in the paddock, but you never felt that scrutiny on a personal level. You smiled politely, and held the microphone to your mouth to answer the question.

“I wouldn’t say so, no. It’s easy to think that with the amount of drama that happens during the races, it will follow us to the paddock. But in the end we are professionals, and we can handle the competitiveness maturely. Even with my toughest rivalries, I can assure you we are friends off track.” You smile, setting down the microphone to signal you had finished talking.

There were murmurs of agreement in the audience, and your fellow drivers on stage nodded to affirm your statement.

“But,” the woman starts again, “currently, there is a battle between you and Lando Norris for third in the driver’s championship.”

You nod, staring expectantly at the woman, wondering where she is going with this.

“Yesterday in an interview with Sky Sports, he went on record to say,” she paused to look at her notes, before saying “‘With Y/N Y/L/N, I wouldn’t say what we have is a friendship, no.’” She finished.

You feel your heart breaking into pieces.

“Really?” you ask, genuinely surprised. You look over to Lando across from you, noticing how he isn’t even looking back at you. He’s staring at his shoes, motionlessly. He couldn’t even look at you.

“Right… noted.” You finish, voice laced with venom.

Another reporter stands up.

“What do you think about that, Y/N?” He asks.

You quickly snap out of your intense stare at Lando, turning to face the reporter on the other side of the room.

“Well,” you say, forcing a laugh to diffuse the tension in the room “my feelings are hurt.” You shrug, maintaining a fake smile for the cameras. Thankfully, the room doesn’t linger on the moment for long, the host moving onto a new question.

You slouched in your chair, wishing you could just melt away to nothing. Your cheeks were burning a shameful red, which you hoped wouldn’t show up on the hundreds of pictures that are currently being taken of you.

“Not friends?” The question swirled in your mind, plaguing your every thought. You couldn’t understand why Lando would say that about you. Everything seemed fine between the two of you. You never argue, you hang out whenever you can. And when you can’t, you’re texting or FaceTiming each other. You just didn’t get it.

The rest of the room blurred in your periphery as you played with your hands in your lap. You felt a burning sensation in your eyes as tears threatened to fall down your face. But just as quick as the tears formed, they were quickly washed away by a strong sensation of anger taking over your body. All the time you spent together meant nothing to him.

What a dick.

___

As soon as the host called the session over, you put your microphone down and got up to leave. You were the first to go, storming out of the room as elegantly as you could. You exited into a service corridor, knowing that you could sneak around any media personnel looking for more questions from you here.

“Y/N!” You hear a voice call from behind you. It was Lando.

“Y/N!” He calls again, footsteps picking up in speed as he races to get to you.

When he catches you, he gently takes your wrist, using the motion to turn you around to face him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. About what happened back there, I’m sorry she embarrassed you like that.” He said breathlessly

“Oh, she was the one who embarrassed me?” You spat at Lando

“It was out of context, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.” He said, desperately trying to reason with you

“Then why didn’t you say something? You just sat there, staring at your feet.” You shot back at him

“I should’ve.” He sighed, searching your eyes for forgiveness.

“Oh. So you’re not only not my friend, you’re also spineless. Good to know, Lando.” You reply, shaking your wrist from his grip.

Lando stands there, dumbfounded, watching your figure retreat down the hall. He wants nothing more than for you to look back at him, just for a moment, just to see your face. But you won’t, and the noise of the exit door slamming behind you snaps him out of his stare.

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” He whispers to himself.

_____

Throughout the rest of the weekend, Lando tried desperately to get you to notice him. He would watch you longingly as you fulfilled media duties, got in your car, out of your car, walked around the paddock, took pictures with fans. He would appear randomly while you were eating, or taking a break. He would include himself in conversations you were apart of.

You rebuffed each of his attempts for attention with an incredibly polite cold shoulder. You were hurt, and he actually hadn’t apologised to you yet. He had texted you a few times asking to talk, but this race was too important to focus on resolving petty drama. You’d call him once it was all over. Maybe.

Well, that’s what you had been telling yourself all weekend. But now it really was over, and you still hadn’t called him.

The good thing about racing in Monaco was that you could actually sleep in your own apartment during the weekend, which was a rare and welcomed occasion. It was late, but you couldn’t sleep, your mind coming back to Lando every time you tried to close your eyes. It felt weird not talking to him, you kept each other sane during times like these. But now he wasn’t here for you, as he had been for so long, and you felt like a piece of you was missing.

As you crawled out of bed to watch something on TV, you heard a sharp knocking at your door. You were hoping it was just someone at the wrong door, until you heard the knocking again. It was more desperate now, the rhythm becoming more sloppy.

“Hello?” You called out, receiving more knocking as a response.

You mutter obscenities to yourself as you put on more appropriate clothing, and trudge to the door annoyed.

“Yes?” You say, swinging open the door.

It was Lando. He looked dishevelled. His curls were tousled and his eyes had deep bags underneath them. They were slightly puffy, as if he’d been crying.

“Y/N, I can’t do this.” He exclaimed, stumbling into your apartment. You let him in, closing the door behind him.

“Can’t do what Lando?” You ask, crossing your arms across your chest.

“I can’t fight with you like this. I can’t not talk to you, I can’t be apart from you.” He stumbles over his words, and you see his eyes well up with tears. You instantly soften your gaze, pulling your arms from their defensive position. “Lando…” Your voice trails off. You take his hand in yours and lead him to your couch to sit down. Even when you are both comfortable, he doesn’t let go.

“I am so, so sorry Y/N. I was so stupid in that interview, I got way too carried away with what I was saying.” He says slowly.

“What were you even trying to say, Lando?” You ask gently, appreciating finally receiving an apology from him.

“Well- I meant what I said. What we have. It isn’t really a friendship, is it?” He responds, voice gaining confidence.

“Something less?” You question, and he smiles in disbelief.

“Something more, Y/N. We are so much more than friends.” You sit back in your seat, but he moves closer to you.

“What- what do you mean?” You hesitate, watching Lando’s warm brown eyes glimmer in the moonlight.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Something inside you clicked. All these years, there was an electricity between the two of you. You never let yourself think that way about him, worrying how a relationship with him would affect your career. But right now, you don’t care. You just want him.

You didn’t say anything, but leaned towards him. He leaned in further, gently cupping one hand around the side of your face, and placing the other arm around your waist to anchor himself. His broad figure covered you completely, and you closed eyes while trying not to smile. His lips were so soft against yours, the scent of his cologne making you feel dizzy. His body felt warm as he pressed his torso against yours. You bucked your hips up, making him groan against you. He pulled his hand up, running his fingers through your hair as he moved down to kiss your neck and collarbones. You giggled at the tickling sensation, and he tentatively pulled away from you, taking a chance to fully admire your face.

“I like this way more than being friends.”

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