#with no way to communicate with anyone she knows

[leclucklerc]

Something Immortal CL16 - 01. Fate

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wayne!reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne loves his kids. He really do. To the point he's going to buy his son a whole ass Formula One team.

Word Count: 5.6K

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It’s a fairytale-like story where a billionaire stumbled upon a baby – fresh out of her mother’s womb, still red and wrinkled – on his doorstep.

There’s a note, written by someone who he can faintly recognize as one of his one-night stands months ago. A messy note with an almost unreadable handwriting declaring that she doesn’t want to have any responsibility for this baby. That as the sperm donor, now it’s his responsibility to take care of the child.

He stared at the note before blue eyes turned their way toward the baby once again. And then, as if the baby recognized his stare, blearily eyes blinked.

It was at that moment that the man fell in love with the baby in front of him.

It was also the start of Bruce Wayne and y/n Wayne’s story.

Y/n understands that her father is not a perfect man.

He had made many wrong choices, choices that he believed were the best but in reality, it’s the choice that ended up doing more hurt than comfort. 

Communication is not his forte, as well as baring his emotion to those around him. There are many instances where her father intended to say one thing but, in the end, the words that escaped his mouth are more biting. More blunt. More heartless.

She knows it’s normal for someone to have a problem conveying their emotions. But in their family? In their family where there are far too many misunderstandings and far more unstable emotions as well as the tendency to take their own conclusion without consulting with anyone?

Well.

Jason used to call her the perfect child. The only child that grew up within the walls of the Wayne manor that ended up with a stable emotion and right mind. That she’s the perfect princess that Bruce Wayne always wanted. Unlike him, goes unheard. You’re the favorite, the one he favors the most, the one that he loves the most, goes unheard. Unlike him, once again, goes unheard.

It’s a bit funny to hear the man say that, because all her life, y/n is sure that she’s the least favorite child.

When she was a child, Dick had always been the golden boy. The perfect partner for Batman when they’re wearing masks and a charming happy child off mask. It’s a bit petty, but there was a time in y/n’s life when she felt a lot of resentment for the older. After all, she’s Bruce’s biological daughter, she’s the child that fell into Bruce’s life first, and yet-

And yet why didn’t he spend more time with her? Why didn’t he always explicitly forbid her to venture through the night like he and Dick?

Why was she never enough?

Of course, that resentment was short-lived because it’s Dick. Dick with his playful laughs and sunshine smile. Dick who always held her hands, guiding her away into some new adventure that he had created a mere minutes prior. Dick is the best big brother anyone could ever asked for. He always made time for her – even to play with her dolls or play pretend – always took care of and protected her in school, and always prioritized her over anything in his life – even Robin.

It’s hard to hate Dick, even after his huge fight with Bruce and his moving out of the Wayne manor. It’s hard to hate Dick, even though he had only hugged her in the middle of the night, muttering that he couldn’t stand living in the manor anymore, that B is beyond reasoning, and disappeared the next day.

It was hard to accept, that her perfect big brother suddenly disappeared from her life. That she was back to being the only child. That the only contact that her big brother made was the occasional phone calls or the screaming match that she sometimes heard from the cave.

What if she also wants to live with her big brother?

What if she also missed Dick?

Maybe that’s why Jason had always been so special to her. An older brother that Bruce found whilst in the middle of stealing Batmobile’s tires. She knows that Jason is not perfect. He has a potty mouth and often says rude things in a fit of anger. His temper was also extraordinarily short, and a bit unpredictable.

But Jason always tries.

He had always tried to be the older brother that y/n needed in her lonely life. He had always tried to make up all of his brash personality and short fuse. He had always tried to apologize first, always tried to keep up with all of her hobbies and interests. Always tried to be there for her. An older brother who often read her to sleep and talked sense to her father. An older brother who fills in the huge gap that Dick left behind. 

An older brother who had promised her that he would always be right by her side. That he will be there during her dance recital and her university graduation. That he will be there during her first date to give her lover a shovel talk. That he will always be there to make up for the lack of her father and their oldest brother’s presence.

To be the perfect older brother for her.

An older brother who died.

Y/n love for cars started when Jason stole one of Bruce’s Ferrari.

It’s a custom—a vintage beauty in the color of midnight and the only one that exists in the world. Her dad received it years ago as a thank-you for his massive investment in the company. Y/n knows that it’s one of her dad’s favorite cars. He rarely used it, only for special occasions, and he often came to the garage and polished it personally.

Most of your siblings shared that sentiment. Even those who don’t really care about cars appreciate their beauty.

So it’s normal for Jason – an automotive enthusiast, who has his own personalized bike and follows Formula 1 religiously – to be entranced by it. He had taken a liking to it since his Robin days when Dad once took him for a drive with that Ferrari. Many things had happened between those times and current times, but it seems his love for the car didn’t diminish.

Y/n was in the garage when Jason appeared, whistling and keys jiggling in his hand.

“I thought we’re not allowed to use that one,” pointed out the woman, grabbing his leather jacket in a sad attempt to stop him.

Jason raised an eyebrow before he raised his hand to ruffle the top of your hair. “As long as he doesn’t know I’ll be fine,” he scoffed.

“I bet Alfred knows.”

“Alfie knows everything.”

Y/n continues to stare at him as Jason reaches the Ferrari. You could practically see all the love and adoration in his eyes as he walked around the car as if he was about to inspect it.

“You know,” y/n started. “I could tell Dad.”

The older male stopped at that. “You wouldn’t,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I could,” you shrugged.

“What do you want in exchange for your silence?”

You grinned. “When you take it out for a drive, I want to go too.”

Jason seemed to contemplate that bargain for a couple of seconds before he nodded. “Deal.”

Truth to be told, it’s not like y/n was interested in automotive or cars back then. Back then, she had just seen it as an opportunity to become closer to Jason. After all, his relationship with the family is tense during the best days and downright horrible during the worst ones.

Y/n had been hesitant about approaching the man after the whole Red Hood and the… Jason being dead… thing that she had elected to stay away from him for some time. Most of the time, the man doesn’t even come to the manor if he can help it and only visits during vigilante business. Considering y/n is not a vigilante, well.

Jason had been her favorite brother. He had been the brother who understood her perfectly. The sibling that is the closest to her age.

The sibling that she had grieved for the longest.

Of course, she had been overjoyed at his return, despite all of the killings and the not-right-in-the-head part. It’s still Jason after all. It’s still the brother who likes to accompany her in the library and the brother who helps her with her English homework.

It’s still the older brother that she loves with all her heart, despite all the differences and all the things in between.

Jason still laughed with his full body, eyes still crinkling in amusement every time he found something funny. He still loves to read those cheesy romance books and believes in true love. Jason is still Jason and that’s all that matters.

That’s why she had seen it as an opportunity to once again, grow closer to Jason. To rebuild the relationship that had years ago. To become siblings once again.

She’s not even sure why Jason agreed to take her alone, not that she’s complaining. She just hopped into the car – excitement high and brimming – as she began thinking what kind of conversation they could have or if should they stop by for food afterward-

Though, in the end, both y/n and Jason crashed the car.

In both of your defenses, Jason – who was driving the car at that time – didn’t mean it. The both of you were high in euphoria and the thrill of high speed after all. And the road near the Wayne Manor is always empty considering, well, it’s also owned by the Wayne family, so no one is ever in it.

It’s not your or Jason’s fault that they didn’t predict a stray cat will pass through the road.

Y/n had screeched and Jason had cursed to hell back as he swerved. It’s only due to the man’s extensive experience as a vigilante and doing many many car chases throughout Gotham that the crash is not a horrible one.

But still, the custom Ferrari had a big dent and scratch mark on its side. Certainly not something that the both of you can hide from. 

Considering that it’s your dad’s favorite car, it’s only normal for him to be mad. But one look at your bruised forehead and Jason’s bleeding noise squashed down all of that anger and replaced it with worry and fretting. It seems his love for his children greatly overpowers any fond memories he has of that car.

However, it doesn’t mean that both of you came out of that mess scot-free. As a punishment, Bruce told both you and Jason to go fix the car.

Fixing the car is a generous term considering you and Jason only had to bring the car to something like a garage specializing in Ferrari or something. But though, it was also the moment that you started to build your relationship with Jason once again.

“Why do you like it so much though?” you had asked.

“Because it’s cool,” grunted out Jason as the both of you lounged in one of his safehouses. The TV is on, showing a Formula 1 race being broadcast. “Look, I know it just looks like cars going around in circles but you gotta watch the whole thing to understand the thrill!”

Letting out a hum, you settled once again on the sofa.

“Are you interested in it?” you asked in it. “To… you know, becoming your daytime job.”

“Dunno, being a crime lord is kind of a daytime kind of thing.”

You let out a huff of laughter at that. “You know that’s not what I mean,” you said, nudging him by the shoulder. “Dad is… you know how he’s trying to announce your revival publicly right?”

Y/n knows Jason knows that. Practically everyone in the family knows it at this point.

“And well, for your civilian persona, maybe having a daytime job that’s not borderline illegal could help.”

Jason let out a scoff at that. “Psh,” he said. “I’m like, way too old to start my carreer in racing,” waved Jason off, though Y/n can sense a hint of disappointment on his tone. “There’s no team who wants me anyway, what with my anger issue and bout of madness.”

The female frowned at that. “You know that’s not an issue,” she said.

“The hell does that mean?”

“If you want to become a Formula One driver, or anything – really – you just only need to say it,” said the woman. “Dad will practically buy you a private island if you asked him, let alone a Formula One team.”

Her brother stared at her, eyes blinking, and y/n merely kept her gaze on the screen in front of them.

“Are you- are you being serius?” Chocked out Jason.

“Jay,” started the female. “Dad id practically building a zoo on our backyard for Damian’s pure shit and giggles,” she said, reminding the older male about the construction that had been happening for some time and Damian’s dedication to it. “If Dad thinks you being a Formula One driver can help you to your… recovery, or you being closer to the family, he’s going to buy the whole paddock at this point.”

“… You’re being serious.”

“Obviously,” said y/n. “What? You don’t want to?”

“I don’t-“ Bit out Jason, “Have any time for that.”

Jason said that he doesn’t have any time for that. Not that he doesn’t wants it.

Y/n remember Jason’s childhood bedroom back in the manor. The old Formula One poster that had faded over time. The miniature Ferrari Formula One car that had been customized gift from the company, a special gift requested by Dad all those years ago. Or that day years ago, when Dad had taken a much younger y/n and Jason to Monza to watch the race.

She stared back at the race that’s showing on the screen in front of them.

Well, she thought. It won’t be too hard to convince dad to buy a formula one team.

You see, the thing is, contrary to popular belief, Bruce Wayne doesn’t want his children to become vigilantes like him. After all, he knows best how dangerous the job can be. How with a single mistake, a single misstep, it will be your life that is in danger.

He had been a bit accepting of the idea after Dick. Bruce knows that he’s not a great father, that he has made way too many mistakes, but seeing how great of a hero Dick is, the older man had accepted the fact that he may not have been a great father, but a great mentor.

However, that kind of thought soon changed.

After Jason, after Ethiopia and its explosion, and Joker’s manic laugh, he doesn’t want any of his children to become a vigilante. He doesn’t want to lose any of his children anymore. Bruce had been scared for the day that y/n would come to him and declare her desire to become a crime-fighting vigilante to come.

And yet, that day never came. Instead, y/n had come to him holding a stack of papers that Bruce recognized as his own father’s research paper. There’s a bright grin on her face, so much like Martha Wayne’s, as you declare, “I want to become a doctor!” said the girl. “Just like Grandpa Thomas!”

Oh, Bruce loves all of his children equally. He had loved each of them with the same intensity. Yet, at this moment, all he could see was the crying baby that was left on his doorstep all those years ago—the result of a careless one-night stand when he was too young even to manage his grief properly.

Y/n had been the first child that he raised and was even under his care years before he took in Dick as his ward. Bruce was practically a child himself when y/n appeared in his life, just a crying baby that was dumped on his doorstep by a mother who didn’t want her. He had made many mistakes and actually managed a somehow decent job at the whole being a father thing due to Alfred’s helping hand. She had been his only daughter for so long and seeing her like this, wanting to become someone just like his late father-

Maybe, just maybe. Maybe Bruce did a good job in this whole fathering thing.

That happened years ago, and now fast forward to now, y/n has become the youngest professor in Thomas Wayne Hospital. Considering her achievements and who her father is, it’s a no-brainer that she will take up the director seat soon enough. She too, alongside Jason, had been the face of Wayne Industry charities where her older brother focuses on helping street children to have a more stable future, she focuses on improving Gotham’s horrid healthcare system.

And of course, her side job.

The doctor to her siblings’ recklessness.

“Ow!” Hissed out Tim as y/n began stitching his wound in the med bay. “I didn’t expect it to be that painful-“

“Of course, it’s painful,” answered the woman with a scowl. “And you’re the one that’s insisting on not using any anesthesia, so suck it up like a big boy.”

“You know I got all sleepy if I had anesthesia,” grumbled the younger male. “I need to study a case file later tonight-“

“Tim,” cut off y/n. “When did you last sleep?”

Tim blinked. “… Last night?”

“Drake is lying,” interrupted Damian as he appeared next to the girl with a glare in his eyes. “He was last asleep approximately 65 hours ago,” continues the boy, tattling his older brother without a care in the world.

“You-“

“TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE!” Yelled y/n as she finished out the stitch. “What did I tell you about the importance of sleep!?”

“Well-“

“You’re still growing! I know that you just took over the CEO position and there are case files that you need to look up to, but how many times do I have to tell you that resting your body is also equally important!?”

The younger can’t even come up with a retort as he resigned himself on the onslaught of scolding that’s being rained upon him.

Dick is laughing easily besides them, fully enjoying the whole debacle.

It didn’t took y/n long to finish up tending on her sibling injuries before she moved towards where Bruce is sitting.

“I’m not injured,” he replied, though at the same time, letting his daughter to examined him closely.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrow at that, a gesture that his own mother likes to make when she knows that Bruce is lying, before she began examining him. It was silent around them, as Dick had decided to haul Tim up to his bedroom.

“Dad,” started y/n as she bandaged a small wound on his shoulder. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Bruce hummed.

“If I ask you to buy something, are you going to do it?”

That made him raised an eyebrow. Out of all of his children, y/n is probably the one who has the largest personal income besides Tim. It’s rare for the woman to ask Bruce something ever since she has her own money.

She’s probably going to ask him buy something expensive.

“Depends,” he replied. “What do you want?”

“A Formula One team?”

Huh.

Bruce has so many questions at that. 

He knows that a few months ago that y/n and Jason had crashed his Ferrari. As a punishment, he had asked them to fixed it together. He also knows that the both of them had been bonding over it. Y/n even visited Jason often enough to know the man’s daily habit at this point.

“What’s this all of the sudden?” he asked instead. “I didn’t know that you’re that… passionate about Formula One.”

It’s not that he’s against or doesn’t have the money to buy a Formula One team. Hell, he could probably buy the entirety of Formula One and go on his merry way. Wayne Industry is trying to expand into the automotive world too these past years – something that had caused Tim a great headache lately – but his daughter who previously doesn’t have any interest in Formula One suddenly asked him to buy a team there?

“It’s not for me, obviously,” said the woman. “It’s for… Jason.”

“Jason?” Bruce blinked.

“Lately we’ve been bonding a lot,” started y/n. “It’s great to have my older brother back, and we’ve been bonding a lot over Formula One because if you remember, Jason had always liked it, even before… everything.”

Bruce does remember it. The weekend that he spent in Monza with younger Jason and y/n had always been one of his fondest memory.

“I think Jason had wanted to become a Formule One driver, once.”

That, is something that Bruce doesn’t know.

“He obviously can’t right now, but if you buy a team, he could… I don’t know, do some testing, go on a simulation, or if god’s willing, maybe even race for the team,” explained y/n. “I know that this seems like a bizzare request dad, but I think this can make Jason really happy.”

An image of Jason appeared inside of his mind.

Of Jason scowling in front of him. Of Jason who had begged him to choose him over his killer. Of his son, laying lifeless on his arm, body cooling rapidly as the time stopped around him.

Of Jason, laughing and smiling decked in Ferrari colors in Monza all those years ago.

It’s an easy choice for Bruce Wayne- no, as Jason’s dad.

There’s a lot of hustle and bustle during the Monaco Grand Prix. This is not uncommon, considering how many celebrities or another important figures that attended that particular GP.

Though usually, Charles tuned them all out. After all, this is the Monaco GP. His home race. Monaco GP is probably the Grand Prix that matters the most to him. 

He really can’t help it. It has been his childhood dream to race in the streets of Monaco. Charles can remember vividly his childhood memories when he would watch the Monaco GP from his friends’ balcony. To watch the cars, speed up through the streets that he’s familiar with, just admiring and daydreaming about his dream as a Formula 1 driver. Years later, Charles managed to become a Formula 1 driver. Not only a Formula 1 driver but a Ferrari Formula 1 driver. It’s everything that he had ever wanted and yet-

It’s only losses after losses. Disappointments after disappointments. A string of failed races every time it’s time for him to race in his home country. People like to call it his Monaco curse. Charles personally found it ridiculous.

And yet they’re all living in a world where superheroes and supervillains roam around the land. They’re living in a world where there’s an alien and a man who dressed up as a bat posing as their heroes. Where villains who wants world domination appear every week.

So maybe, a curse is not something too far off.

Nonetheless, every time the Monaco GP turned up; it put him in a pensive mood. There are just so many things inside of his mind. The excitement of the race, all the bits of knowledge that he had to know regarding the car and the track, the fear of disappointment that kept hanging on his back over and over again.

Too many things to contemplate and brood about for him to listen to the idle chatter inside the garage. This year though, he can’t help but tune in.

“There’s an important guest in attendance,” said his manager during lunch. Charles eyed the chicken that was being served in front of his manager almost hungrily before he turned his gaze toward the sad plate of salad in front of him. “You know Bruce Wayne?”

“Ah,” said Charles in realization. Charles is not even an American and he’s very familiar with the name Bruce Wayne and the Wayne legacy. To be honest, it’s harder to not know the man considering he’s gracing every news outlet every other week. “The richest man in the world?”

“Bingo,” nodded the man. “He’ll attend the Monaco race, with some of his children,” he continued. “Apparently he’s a big fan of cars, and there’s even rumors that the Wayne Industry is going to acquire a team in Formula One soon.”

Oh, that’s news even for him. He wonders if FIA is going to expand the sport or maybe the Wayne Enterprise is going to buy one of the teams. Haas maybe?

“I see,” murmured Charles. “Is he going to stay in one of the team garages or?”

“He’ll be staying with us,” answered his manager. “His father had saved Ferrari from a financial crisis a few decades back, and Bruce Wayne is also one of the major stakeholders in Ferrari. The guy even got a custom-made Ferrari a few years ago… wonder where that went through.”

Well, if Charles also had a custom-made Ferrari, he would parade it around everywhere. But if you’re as rich as Bruce Wayne maybe a custom-made Ferrari is nothing.

Despite everything, Bruce Wayne didn’t actually show up until Sunday, the actual race day. Charles is sitting on top of tires just outside of the Ferrari garage, trying to get into the right head space when there seem to be clamors around him. He heard him before he saw him, as he could hear the increase of camera shutters and conversations.

Bruce Wayne is a large and domineering figure. He’s tall, really tall. Charles thinks there’s a couple of inches in difference in their height, but what really caught his attention is how built the guy is. Formula One drivers are expected to stay light, because the lighter they are, the faster their car will go. He has been way too used to seeing tall and lean men – the other drivers – that Bruce Wayne’s built body made him do a double-check.

Accompanying him, are a younger man and a woman – his children it seems. The man is also tall, taller than Charles but not as tall as Wayne, but he seems to compensate for it with pure muscle. He has tan skin as well as a tuft of dark hair with white streaks in front. The woman is also tall, her face showing few similarities with Wayne. Different from his father and brother who are decked in all black, the woman is wearing a red silk top. Clearly showing the whole paddock the team that she’s rooting for.

Ferrari’s chairman – John Elkann - is walking beside Wayne and is clearly pleased by the declaration from the woman.

“And of course, our driver!” said John when they were nearing the garage. Instantly all eyes were on Charles and almost automatically, a smile appeared on his lips. “Bruce, this is one of our drivers, Charles Leclerc, and Charles, you know Bruce Wayne.”

“Yes,” said Charles, increasing his charm to the max. Being on a good term with Bruce Wayne not only will benefit the racing team but Ferrari as a whole. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Wayne.”

Wayne laughed cheerily at that, shaking his hand with Charles. “It’s an honor for me too,” said the man. “I’ve been a big fan of Formula One for so long, only now do I have the time to watch a race live.”

Charles doubts that. Bruce Wayne is famous for all of his vacations and playboy lifestyle – the latter part had tamed a bit in recent years, considering all the children that he had now. No doubt, if he’s really a fan of Formula One, the man would have found time to watch a race or two.

“And my children too are big fans,” grinned Wayne as he motioned for both of his children to come closer. “This is Jason, my second eldest,” he put an arm around the man who nodded his head towards Charles. “And this is y/n, my youngest daughter.”

For the first time since their arrival, Charles got a good look on their face and-

Oh.

Oh.

Y/n Wayne is probably the most beautiful woman that Charles had ever seen in his life. Perfectly styled hair, red lipstick across her lips – perfectly complimenting her pearly teeth – and how her outfit today fits her like a glove. She looks really beautiful, almost unreal. It’s a really big compliment because he had seen many beautiful women – models, influencers, celebrities – but no one seems able to compare with the ethereal beauty of Y/n Wayne.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” said Y/n with a large smile. “As you can see,” at this, she motioned her top, there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m rooting for Ferrari, so I wish you good luck during the race.”

Fuck. Her voice sounds really nice too. Charles needs to open his mouth and answer the woman, but his voice seems to be stuck in his throat. 

Finally, after a couple of second of silence, he managed to say, “Yeah,” said the driver. “Yeah, thank you.”

A snort cut through his haze, making Charles turn his eyes towards the older Wayne’s sibling. Jason Wayne stares at him with a raised eyebrow, eyes showing as if he knows something that Charles doesn’t know. 

“I hope you enjoy your stay here,” said the driver turning his attention towards Bruce Wayne, trying to steer the conversation away from his awkwardness. Away from y/n Wayne’s perfectly styled hair and a perfect smile. “I was told you will be staying in the garage, yes?”

“Yes,” answered Mr. Wayne. “I’m really excited about it, right Jason? y/n?”

“For sure,” answered Jason, talking for the first time since their arrival here. “Heard you have a shitty luck in your home race, gonna need lots of good luck, no?”

And ouch.

Charles knows that his home race curse is a bit infamous, but being told like this directly in front of his face is hurting his ego a bit. It’s not like he can give the guy a retort back considering he’s Bruce Wayne’s son – one of their biggest sponsors – but still, he can’t help the small twitch of annoyance that appeared on his lips.

“Jason,” said y/n, nudging the elder’s side.

Jason rolled his eyes, holding his hands up in defense. 

“Sorry about that,” said y/n. “He’s a bit prickly after the long flight.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” dismissed Charles good-naturedly, not wanting to offend their guests. “My Monaco curse has its own reputation after all.”

“Don’t call it a curse,” laughed y/n. “Someone once said to me that if you acknowledge something as a curse, it will only bring bad luck.”

Charles raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh?” he said, a bit intrigued. It’s an interesting concept after all. 

“Yes,” replied the female with a smile. Her eyes crinkled, only making it far more beautiful and show-stopping. “Maybe it’s luck? Luck for me?”

“For you?”

“Well, I think if I managed to see the il Predestino first race win in Monaco I would be a really lucky girl.”

And well, Charles can’t help but bark out a laugh at that. The idea itself is a bit ridiculous, but somehow, it only warms his heart. The woman seems to be amused at his sudden bout of laughter as she too, regards him with some kind of amusement in her eyes.

“That certainly one of the ways to see it,” said the driver, amusement dripping on his tone. “Thank you though, I’ll remember your words during the race and maybe it can serve as my personal lucky charm.”

Y/n let out a laugh at that. “Please do,” replied the woman. “It’s every girl’s dream to be remembered by Charles Leclerc after all.”

“Every girl’s dream huh?” answered the driver. “Is it also yours?”

“Well, for one, I’m a woman,” said y/n grinning.

“Mhm, I can see that-”

“That’s enough of that,” Cut off Jason and it made Charles remember that it’s not only him and y/n in the room. The older of the Wayne children stared at the both of them with something akin to disapproval that made Charles flicker his eyes to where Bruce Wayne was. Thankfully, he’s deep in a conversation with John. “I really don’t want to see my sister flirting with someone,” this he made a vague gagging sound, “and Bruce is leaving, so we better get going.”

“Ah,” said y/n, turning her eyes towards where her father is. “Jason is right, it’s really nice to meet you, Charles.”

He really can’t help the twinge of disappointment that appeared inside of him. He had been enjoying their conversation after all. The driver wishes that he doesn’t have a race soon so that they can have more time just getting to know each other. “It’s also really nice to meet you, y/n.”

The woman smiled at that before she leaned closer, startling him a bit. “Let’s continue our conversation later at the after-party,” she whispered, giving him a wink before she leaned back and said again in a louder voice. “Anyway, good luck out there. We’re really looking forward to the race later.”

Soon after that, Bruce Wayne’s entourage moved on, no doubt exploring the paddock with Ferrari’s chairman, leaving Charles standing there staring.

“Stop that gawking,” muttered his managed, snapping him out of his trance. “We all know y/n Wayne is pretty.”

Charles spluttered. “I was-“ he began fumbling. “I was not gawking at her.”

“Mhm,” hummed his manager. “Anyway, get your head right on your shoulder loverboy, the race is starting soon.”

The driver grumbled as he turned around towards the garage.

He’s Charles Leclerc. He does not gawk. He’s not-

Y/n Wayne’s beautiful smile flashed across his mind.

Oh.

Well, he’s a simple man after all.

#bruce wayne as lawrance stroll lmaoo #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc imagine #batman fanfiction #what is this crossover dont ask me aha #formula one fanfic #formula one x y/n #f1 x female reader

[dante-mightdie]

Omg Ive got another idea about the cult!au:

So simon now has this cute dumb wife who just won’t shut up about how weird stuff around her seem to be lately and she just keeps talking about wanting to see what would happen if they went out without price knowing, just out of pure curiosity yk? She constantly talks about hearing people outside, on the hills surrounding the little village they have, what could they possibly be? Maybe they’re monsters and not humans? But they seem so small and fragile just like the people in their own community 

And every time she mentions anything related to the topic simon is DEVASTATED, not because of his wife, but because of john. he knows that if his wife mentions anything like the stuff she blurts out when they’re alone price would straight up kill her and leave no proof of her ever existing before that, he’s seen it happen a few times with his own eyes

And when he remembers the terrified looks people had on their faces before being buried alive, just makes him nauseous cause he can’t imagine his wife’s beautiful face that scared.

But no matter what he does, she just won’t listen! If it was anyone else simon wouldn’t even hesitate to kill them with his own hands to show price his devotion, but it’s not anyone else, it’s his wife

So he decides to take matters into his into his own hands, he’s the one that has the keys to the gates after all

So he tells his precious little wife that he’s going to let her see the plains surrounding the village for an hour and if she liked it, they can just leave together :)

And the way his wife’s eyes just filled with excitement melted his heart, little did she know simon was going to make her want to stay

So maybe she sees something scary outside, and she runs as fast as she possibly can ,and just hugs simon with tears running down her eyes, saying that she was so stupid to think anywhere other than the warm community and her loving husband’s embrace would be safe for her

Maybe with a sprinkle of smut…? Just maybe! Just a silly little thought yk!!!

please grace us with your amazing writing, cause this cult!au is living in my mind rent free 😢🙏🙏🙏

hope you guys like the cult!au because it’s all you’re gonna be hearing for at least a few days. gonna call this version of simon ‘gatekeeper!ghost’

c/w: dark content, cult!au, gatekeeper!ghost, murder, manipulative tactics, implied mentions of pregnancy and children

your husband worries that you’re a little too oblivious sometimes. not truly understanding how the things you say and do could end in serious repercussions. perhaps you’re certain that if it truly came down to it, simon would defend you over anyone else. and to an extent, you’re right. however, that only applies when he’s actually there to protect you and if you think that price wouldn’t account for your guard dog husband when exacting out his revenge, you’re dead wrong

so he decides that he needs to help you see that. perhaps if you see with your own too eyes that the outside world is really just a pit of wolves waiting to feast on the soft flesh of his naive trusting wife, you’ll stop all this nonsense about the outside. so he decides to kill two birds with one stone by using a member of the community, who price had asked simon to get rid of anyway, to give you a fright

the man had been sowing discontent into the community for a while anyways. not pulling his weight with the mandatory community chores which everyone contributes too, apparently harbouring some resentful opinions towards key members of the community including himself and simon. it wasn’t long before price had enough of the disrespect and ordered simon to dispose of him and dump his body in the incinerato

simon decided to take a little detour with him first, though. leading him out past the gates before swiftly ending his life. he spends some time setting up a scene for you to stumble upon, making it appear as though this man was another member of the community who got too curious about the outside and had been mauled by some creature. whether you assume that creature is just a wild animal or something more sinister is irrelevant to simon, you won’t be seeing it anyway once he gets you back behind the gates. poor thing’ll be too frightened to ever wonder about the outside world again

your husband comes to collect you after hours once everyone in the community is asleep. you step out the gates with caution, as though the ground may not be walkable nor the air breathable. you soon relax once you realise the scenery and nature is not all that different to the community you were raised in your whole life. he hands you a map, one he edited to ensure you’d follow all the right paths to find the body and be back at the gates all in under 10 minutes

“back ‘ere. one hour. ‘m trusting you here, sweethear’, yeah?” your husband grumbles, zipping up your coat to protect you from the cold of the night but not before slipping a tracking device in lining. you look up at him, nodding along to every word he tells you about the paths, how to find your way back if you get lost, how if you’re not back in one hour to find somewhere safe and he will come and find you

gives you a firm kiss on the forehead before letting you go on your way, watching your form until it quickly disappears into the dark. the only thing visible of you is the slight glint of the torch he gave you. he looks down at his watch, he told you an hour but if you’re not back in 10 minutes then he knows you’ve strayed from the path he told you to go down

he counts down the minutes, softly whistling to himself as he leans on his rifle. 6 minutes was all it took for him to hear your bloodcurdling scream echo throughout the trees. he sets off, running until he eventually meets you halfway on the walk back. he feels guilty, don’t get it twisted but he’s doing it for your own good. doesn’t stop his heart breaking at the sight of you running towards him, hands reaching for him with tears streaming down your face

you throw yourself into him, sobbing into his chest as you struggle to get the words out about what you saw. as he predicted this outcome, his arms instinctively scoop you up after he slings his rifle round to rest against his back. let’s you cry to him about the awful thing you just saw whilst he carries you back towards the compound gates, cooing that you’re safe now and he’ll get you both home and safe

your home isn’t far from the gates which means your home after a short walk. you refuse to let simon leave your side, whining that you’re scared whatever got that man is gonna come and get you

“don’t be silly, lovie. they’d ’ave to get through me first.” he says, planting a kiss on top of your head whilst he strips you both down for bed. you just look up at him with a pouty lip, “I think you’re just getting too bored at home, aren’t ya, sweets? not much to keep ya busy when i’m not around. maybe some little troublemakers running about the ‘ouse will keep ya busy, yeah?”

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost #cult!au #gatekeeper!ghost

[helen-with-an-a]

Numb

Hi, so this came from a request that I got a little while ago. I'm sorry it took so long to get out. But I hope you enjoy.

Barça Femeni x Reader

Description: R has a bad game and is not doing so well after it.

TW: Mental health struggles

Word Count: 2.4k

It wasn’t like you had played poorly, not at all. It was just … not your best day. Everyone had them. For whatever reason, you felt like you weren’t moving as fast as normal – no matter how hard you pumped your arms and stretched your legs, you were always that split second slower than the opponent. Your shots weren’t hitting the back of the net, either. Wide, too high, straight to the goalkeeper, blocked, wide, not enough power, blocked, wide, wide, too high. It was the greatest number of shots you think you’d even taken in a singular game, yet your name was not on the score sheet. You were playing shit. Or at least that’s what you thought … and the fans. You didn’t need to see the actual words to know what the tweets were saying. The comments on the Instagram posts and the anonymous messages flooded in, adding to the overwhelming feeling. Not only was this your team's first home loss in 5 years, but you had missed 3 absolute sitters. One was in the first half; you had managed to defend their corner well and start a counterattack. It was a one-on-one with the keeper. All you had to do was chip it over Hampton, and you’d be in. Except, it wasn’t in. It had hit the post and rolled out of play for a goal kick.

So, you did what you always did when the world was too much. You pushed everything down and into a small little box in your mind. If you left it there long enough, you’d forget about it. Was it the healthiest? No, it most definitely was not. But it worked, and it was never a problem. You had no idea why you acted this way. You had a healthy family that tried to communicate with each other as best they could. You always had good coaches that expertly toed the line between firm and friendly. Your teammates were always kind and helpful. Yet you pushed your feelings down. It was just easier that way. It wasn’t the best in the long run, but right then and there, it was so, so much easier.

“Anímate, cariño,” Mapí said, resting her hand on your shoulder. She knew how hard you would take this. How personally you would take this loss.

“I’m fine,” you said, sounding somewhat upbeat, surprising both you and Mapí.

“Estas segura? Está bien si no lo eres.” Mapí tried to reassure you, not liking your habit of repressing your emotions.

“I’m fine, Mapí.” You dismissed again, a little more defensively this time. You weren’t fine, but you had to be. You smiled weakly, shrugging off her hand and walking towards the tunnel.

You continued to be not-quite-fine for the next few days. To anyone that didn’t know you, you genuinely looked fine. You went about your days like usual. Recovery was generally quiet, with no one feeling up to making small talk and the usual chatter that engulfed the room. Your voice remained deceptively cheery, your soft smile a permanent presence on your face. You went about your day off totally normally – you went to the shops to refill your fridge, stopping on the way to pick up a coffee and a sweet treat like you usually did. Your trolley was full of your usual fruit and veg, and you stopped off to check the eggs and spend time deliberating on the best fresh bread. Everything was totally, completely normal. But to those who knew you, they could see your constant rubbing at your temples, the faint lines of fatigue etched around your eyes despite your insistence that everything was totally fine. You moved like someone carrying an invisible weight, constantly adjusting your shoulders, rolling your neck, and shifting your feet. The shop was too loud for you, each sound and flash of light jolting through your body. As you walked through the aisles, your eyes occasionally darted around as if expecting something to jump out at you. The barista at the coffee shop noticed your slightly strained expression, offering you an extra smile, but you barely registered it. At the checkout, your hands trembled slightly while you packed your groceries, a subtle sign of your inner turmoil. You took a moment to pause, the deep breath you took forcing your emotions back into the little box you had made for them. Despite the routine, every task felt monumental, a herculean effort to maintain the facade of normalcy. Once you were finally home, you exhaled a long, shaky breath, the silence of your apartment both a relief and a reminder of the failure you faced alone.

Everyone knew you weren’t okay by the time the Levente Las Planas game rolled around. You had been quietly hopeful that your name would be in the Starting XI, the one thing you were clinging to. During training, the anticipation had given you a fragile sense of purpose, a sliver of light in an otherwise dark period. Yet, despite your best efforts to appear composed, your teammates noticed the subtle cracks in your façade. You moved through training with mechanical precision, your usual enthusiasm noticeably dampened. The energy you typically brought to the locker room was replaced by a subdued presence; your interactions were reduced to single-word responses and half-hearted nods. Everyone was down, that was sure, but you were on another level.

“Cariño, ¿estás bien?” Alexia asked, her voice tinged with concern. She had been calling your name for the last few minutes, watching from the side as you stared off into the distance, lost in your thoughts. Her brow furrowed as she approached you, her eyes searching your face for any signs of what was wrong.

“Hm? Oh, sí. Yeah, I’m fine,” you dismissed, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You quickly averted your gaze, hoping to hide the turmoil brewing just beneath the surface. Alexia wasn’t convinced. She took a step closer, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You’ve been out of it all day,” she said softly, her touch warm and grounding. “If something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” Her words were kind, but you felt their weight pressing down on you, making it harder to keep up the charade.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s nothing, really. Just a bit tired, I guess. Pack schedule and whatnot” The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open up, not now, not when you were barely holding it together.

Alexia sighed, sensing your reluctance. “Okay, but if you need to talk, I’m here for you, siempre.” She squeezed your shoulder reassuringly before stepping back, giving you space but not leaving your side entirely. She hoped her presence was a quiet reminder that you didn’t have to face your struggles alone, even if you weren’t ready to share them just yet.

As she walked away, you felt a pang of guilt. You wanted to reach out, to let her in, but the walls you had built around your emotions felt insurmountable. With a heavy heart, you turned your attention back to the field, trying to focus on the rest of training but finding it impossible to shake the weight of Alexia’s concern. You really didn’t like causing people concern.

During the final minutes of the pre-match meeting, your eyes never left Jona, searching for any hint of his thinking, while your hands trembled ever so slightly as you picked at the end of your shorts. The minutes ticked by agonisingly slowly, each second adding to the weight pressing down on your shoulders. The team exchanged worried glances, their concern growing as they watched you struggle to maintain your usual demeanour. The coaches were starting to grow concerned, too. You insisted you were fine.

Finally, the moment came when the coach started reading out the names for the Starting XI. Your heart pounded in your chest, hope and dread warring within you. When your name wasn’t called, the last of your resilience crumbled. You managed to keep a stoic expression, but inside, you felt a devastating blow. Jona hadn’t really explained his thoughts behind it; he never did. How were you supposed to know he was resting you for the second leg? How were you supposed to know that he was deeply concerned for you and didn’t want to add physical tiredness to your anguish?

Alexia, Lucy, and Ingrid could see you visibly deflate when the team sheet was called. They saw your shoulders drop and your head dip slightly. The trio exchanged worried glances, silently communicating their shared concern for you. Alexia bit her lip, wanting to comfort you but unsure how to breach the distance you had placed between yourself and the rest of the team. Lucy clenched her fists in frustration, wishing she could do something to lift your spirits. Ingrid watched you with a heavy heart, recognising the signs of someone struggling to keep it all together and knowing all too well how isolating that could feel.

“Hey, kid,” Lucy said as she sat beside you. You looked up at her, blinking in surprise, when you realised only the four of you left. The media room, which had been bustling with activity just moments ago, now felt eerily quiet and intimate.

“Hi,” you replied, forcing your voice to be the cheerier tone it normally was. You winced slightly at the apparent fakeness, the effort of pretending weighing heavily on you.

“Look, there’s no easy way to say this,” she started, ignoring Alexia's glare. Lucy's tone was firm but kind, her eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of concern and determination. “We’re worried about you,” she confessed, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the silence.

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I’m fine, really,” you insisted weakly, but the words felt hollow even to your own ears.

Alexia stepped forward, her expression softening as she knelt beside you. “We can see that something’s not right,” she said gently, her eyes searching yours for any sign of the truth, a hand resting on your thigh. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re here for you.”

Ingrid nodded in agreement, her usually stoic face filled with empathy. “We care about you,” she added, her voice low and steady. “Whatever it is, you can trust us.”

Their collective concern felt overwhelming, and for a moment, you felt the walls you had built around your emotions begin to crack. The weight of their support was both a comfort and a challenge, urging you to let them in even as you struggled to maintain your composure. The room felt heavy with unspoken words, and you realised that perhaps it was time to stop pretending and start facing whatever it was that had been eating away at you.

“I’m fine,” you tried one more time, weakly attempting to protest their concerns. “I’m just tired. Honestly, with the packed schedule recently, it’s been a lot. And I haven’t been sleeping fantastically either.” Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the truth behind your words.

Lucy frowned, not convinced. “We know the schedule’s been tough on everyone, but this feels different,” she said, her tone softening as she reached out and placed a hand on your arm. “You’ve been off since the Chelsea game.”

Alexia nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with worry. “We’re all tired, but you seem... reservado,” she added gently. “You’ve been pulling away from us, and that’s what worries us the most.”

Ingrid, usually the most reserved of the group, spoke up, her voice firm but compassionate. “We’re a team, and that means we look out for each other,” she said, her gaze steady and unwavering. “It’s okay to admit if you’re struggling. We want to help.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, the weight of their concern pressing down on you. For a moment, you considered brushing them off again, but the sincerity in their eyes made it impossible to dismiss their words. You shook your head, rapidly blinking away the tears that were threatening to spill over. Lucy moved to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Please… please, don’t,” you croaked, hating how your voice wavered slightly. Lucy froze, her hand hovering mid-air, uncertainty flickering across her face.

“Por qué no?” Alexia asked so softly, her voice a gentle whisper that broke through your defences.

You took a shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to fall apart,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “If I start, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

Alexia's eyes softened further, and she shuffled closer, her presence warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to hold everything in,” she said gently. “We’re here for you, to help you through this. Está bien dejarlo ir.”

Ingrid, who had been quietly observing, spoke up with a rare tenderness in her voice. “We’ve all been there, feeling like the weight of the world is on our shoulders. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to carry this by yourself.”

Lucy, still hesitant, slowly lowered her hand, her expression full of compassion. “We care about you,” she said softly. “More than just as a teammate, but as a friend. Let us be there for you.”

The tears you had been holding back finally began to spill over, and you wiped at them furiously, feeling both embarrassed and relieved. “I don’t know how to start,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Alexia reached out, this time her hand landing gently on your back. “Just by being honest, like you are now,” she said. “One step at a time. We’ll be with you through all of it.”

The warmth and solidarity from your friends began to open the boxes you had created in your mind. The motions slowly seeping out. The burden you had been carrying alone started to feel a little lighter, knowing you didn’t have to bear it by yourself anymore.

I hope you liked it <3<3<3<3

#woso community #woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #woso #barca femeni #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso imagine #fc barcelona #woso oneshot #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #barca women #fc barça #fc barca #barça femeni #barcelona women #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni

[perfectsunlight]

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 [𝟏𝟑]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: NONEEEEE WE CHEERED.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

sm entertainment officially announced ningning’s hiatus one month after her arrival at the rehab center.

they said she was taking time for herself in order to focus on her health and wellbeing. most people had no idea where she had gone. 

dispatch had no sightings of her for weeks. they did not even know when she was at the hospital either, to which everyone was thankful for. the company was shocked to know that the chinese idol was willing to get sent to rehab. 

however, despite the initial shock, they offered to pay for all the expenses and also said she could take all the time she needed in order to get better. 

the truth is bulletproof, there's no fooling you

i don't dress the same

yizhuo needed to be away from the city. she needed to be somewhere where she could find who she truly was. geoje was where the company decided to send her. it was a 4 hour drive from seoul, making it just far enough for her to get away, but also close enough for people to come visit. the city was right off the coast of busan, situated on an island connected to the mainland via bridges.

she would hate to admit it, but part of her never wanted to leave geoje. it was beautiful, and she felt like she could be herself within the sanctuary of the rehab center. it was a bit difficult at first, opening up to complete strangers about her issues, but she was willing to try her best.

that was all anyone expected of her here — to just try her best.

she had never had that environment. it felt nice to have such a change. it felt right. 

me and who you say i was yesterday

have gone our separate ways

most of the people who arrived at the center were older than she was, meaning they had no idea who she was. there was an older woman who worked as an instructor for an art class that the facility offered, and whenever ning would go in and draw, she would sing.

she had told yizhuo that she should become a singer when she gets out because her voice was outstanding. all the chinese girl could do was smile and laugh a little.

it was ironic for her. she used to love being known by everyone as “ningning from aespa”, but here she loved being unknown. when she arrived, she said she was an international student studying korean language at yonsei. 

it was a believable cover story, and no one questioned it. the anonymity was a relief. she could walk around without the weight of her idol identity. 

there were no fans to impress, no expectations to meet, no cameras capturing her every move. 

she could just be yizhuo, a young woman finding her way back to herself. 

left my living fast somewhere in the past

'cause that's for chasing cars

days at the center had a gentle rhythm. mornings began with a communal breakfast, where she’d chat with the other residents, exchanging stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. after breakfast, there were various therapy sessions. she found solace in group therapy, where she realized she wasn’t alone in her struggles. the stories she heard, though different from her own, were a reminder that everyone had their battles. in the afternoons, she often joined the art class. 

the instructor, mrs. lee was her name, was a kind-hearted woman in her sixties, with a voice that was both soothing and encouraging. she felt more of a mother to yizhuo than her own had. her words of praise and encouragement made ning feel seen, not as an idol, but as a person with potential beyond her public persona. 

it was different to have someone so maternal, but she thoroughly felt better. whenever it felt difficult to open up, she would talk to mrs. lee. she had a way of listening that made yizhuo feel understood, without judgment or pity. the idol realized all she ever needed was someone who wouldn’t pity her.

turns out open bars lead to broken hearts

and going way too far

the two became closer when the older woman found her crying after her first few sessions of therapy with the facility’s psychiatrist. mrs. lee never asked any questions, and simply just embraced the younger girl in a tight hug until yizhuo’s tears stopped. from that day forward, ning went to mrs. lee for everything.

“you're stronger than you think,” mrs. lee would often say, her aged eyes filled with kindness. “you’ve done well. only you can be the best version of yourself, for yourself.” these words resonated deeply with the young idol. she began to see her journey not as a series of failures, but as a testament to her resilience.

she was ning yizhuo, a girl who did the best she could. and that was all she could ever want to be.

take one, pour it out

it's not worth crying 'bout the things you can't erase

on days when she felt particularly overwhelmed, yizhuo would take long walks along the coast. the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was therapeutic. ning had never been a fan of beaches (mostly because of the sand), but upon arriving in geoje, she fell in love with them.

at first, she would just walk to the steps that led down to the sand but not descend. she’d only lean against the railing and watch the water from above, not wanting to touch the sand. the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tides calmed her, the vastness of the ocean making her own problems seem smaller, more manageable. 

like tattoos and regrets

words i never meant and ones that got away

but as days turned into weeks, she found herself longing to be closer to the water. one morning, she took a deep breath and made her way down the steps. she hesitated at the bottom, toes just inches away from the sand. 

with a determined sigh, she stepped onto the beach, feeling the grainy texture beneath her feet. the initial discomfort faded as she walked along the shore, the cool water lapping at her ankles. it became a ritual for her—each day, she’d venture a little further, letting the sand and sea become her sanctuary. 

she began to see the beach not just as a place, but as a metaphor for her own journey—constantly changing, yet always moving forward.

left my living fast somewhere in the past

and took another road

the young woman found herself collecting different things from each trip to the shore. on some days it was a small rock, and others it was other things.

she often collected seashells to save them for you. they were like little pieces of happiness for her, just like you were.

sometimes, she’d even sit on a large rock by the water’s edge, watching the waves crash and retreat. one of the gifts you had given her before she left was a digital camera. without missing an evening, ning took photos of every sunset. 

it reminded her of you, after all. it was only fair of her to show you.

the beach was quiet. ningning hated the quiet before. now, she loved it.

quiet meant she could breathe. she had control of her thoughts and emotions. she no longer let her mind bully her.

turns out crowded rooms empty out as soon

there's somewhere else to go, oh

visitors were allowed to come once a week, meaning most of the time, her members all came to visit her together. of course, she didn’t have a visitor every week, but sm made sure to keep these visits out of the public’s prying eyes when you or her members did come and visit. 

karina usually brought her new stationary, minjeong brought snacks, and aeri would bring her new sd cards for her camera or clothes for the seasonal changes. although ning was away from everyone she knew, she never truly felt lonely.

she had made peace with her isolation. however, the only person she constantly missed was you. 

she’d never thought of ever writing a letter, but she was over the moon when she saw you had written her one a few weeks after she was sent to the facility. mrs. lee teased yizhuo by saying she’d never seen her really smile until she saw her reading the letter. ningning missed you more than she could understand. 

it wasn’t a bad feeling of longing either, but rather a feeling of curiosity for what you were doing at the moment. before she had left seoul, you had mentioned to yizhuo that you had broken up with aeri the night she was hospitalized. 

ningning didn’t need to ask any questions about it, she knew why it happened. you cared about ning. more than anyone else, or anything else. 

and she cared about you, too. more than anyone else, or anything.

i know i used to be crazy

messed up, but, god, was it fun

after being in rehab for 6 months, ningning was finally comfortable enough to return to seoul. 

on her last day there, mrs. lee had brought her a gift. it was a beautifully wrapped box with a note attached to it. the note read, “for the journey ahead. with love, mrs. lee.” ning carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a set of watercolor paints in a case with her initials on it.

mrs. lee smiled warmly. “i thought you might want to continue expressing yourself through art. remember, these are tools for your journey, just as much as your voice is.” tears welled up in yizhuo’s eyes as she hugged the older woman tightly. 

mrs. lee must have known who she really was. the idol decided not to question it.

“thank you for everything,” she whispered. “i’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.” mrs. lee simply patted her back gently. “go out there and show the world who you have always been. and never forget, you’re always welcome back here if you need to escape.”

i know i used to be wild

that's 'cause i used to be young

the facility threw the young idol a send off ceremony the day before she was leaving. there were games and delicious food, and even karaoke. naturally, yizhuo stole the show with her voice. mrs. lee had been taking photos and videos for the chinese girl on the camera you got her. even though rehab was tough, ning didn’t ever want to forget her time here. 

“i’ve learned a lot here. thank you all for helping me remember who i truly am.” yizhuo said with a warm smile as she bowed, concluding her parting speech.

the applause that followed was heartfelt, and ningning felt a sense of closure and gratitude. the friends she had made and the experiences she had shared in geoje were now a part of her story, a chapter she would cherish forever. 

as the evening wound down, yizhuo mingled with the staff and residents, sharing hugs and promises to keep in touch. later that night, she found herself back at the beach for one last walk. the moonlight danced on the waves, creating a serene scene. she took out the camera and captured a few final shots, wanting to hold on to this moment forever.

with a deep breath, she whispered a goodbye to the ocean, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. she was ready to move forward, but she would always carry a piece of this place with her. 

those wasted nights are not wasted

i remember every one

sm entertainment had expressed their excitement in regards to yizhuo feeling well enough to return to seoul. she was a bit nervous for facing the public and their questions to where she had been, but one thing the idol had learned was boundaries.

she didn’t have to tell the world where she had been. only the people who needed to know, knew.

ningning didn’t bring her phone with her to the facility. it was something the facility had requested before her initial arrival. it was quite the laugh when the chinese girl showed up with a mp3 player. however, the idol was thankful she downloaded as many songs as she could have because the upcoming 4 hour drive would be a bit more boring without it.

a car pulled up to the curb, and for a moment ning was confused. she couldn’t see who was inside because of the tinted windows, but when the passenger side window was lowered, she couldn’t help but smile.

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

you smiled and ning swore she was about to throw up from excitement. she practically bolted inside with her backpack and duffle, almost hitting her head on the roof when she got inside.

“hey, stranger,” you greeted her warmly, your eyes twinkling with joy. “ready to go home?” the chinese girl nodded, feeling a rush of emotions. she had missed you, she had missed seoul, she had missed her members.

 “more than ready.”

you tell me time has done changed me

that's fine, i've had a good run

“you didn’t forget anything, right?” you teased as you set the car into drive. the idol laughed at your remark before pretending to feign thought. “hm,” she hummed as she tapped her finger against her chin. “just this.”

ningning leaned over the center console and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

your cheeks flushed with a warm pink, and you couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes playfully. “definitely not something to forget,” you replied, feeling a happy flutter in your chest. with one hand on the steering wheel, you took the other and intertwined your hand in the idol’s.

“let’s go home.”

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑫.

a/n: WE CHEERED ! thank you for all of the support for this series, i love u all <3

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies  @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777

CLOSED.

#ningning #ning yizhuo #ningning x reader #aespa x reader #aespa #aespa fic #kpop fic #karina #winter #giselle #gxg #wlw #kpop #groupie love #perfectsunlight

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pointing out contradictions in my friend's speech?

This happened a few years ago but I still think about it sometimes. I had a friend at school, let's call them Alex [16X, gender irrelevant], who I had been struggling to communicate with. I'm autistic and I don't get social cues. They knew about my diagnosis, but still relied on social cues when speaking to me. I have misunderstood them several times because of this, then reminded them that I don't understand them if they aren't being direct, they promised to be direct text time and I foolishly believed them.

Later, we started communicating better... almost.

It's just that when they're exhausted(?) They don't really want to talk to anyone, and instead of saying it directly, they go back to using social cues again. I had no idea what they were feeling at the exact moment or if they're exhausted at all, so I continue talking to them unbeknownst of me.

I tried looking for a pattern to recognize whenever Alex doesn't want to talk to anyone, but I could never find it. They wanted me to figure it myself because "it's clear".

So, whenever Alex was feeling that way, they never said what they meant, ever.

Example #1: one day I was telling Alex about the movie I saw. I saw that they had tweeted about it and even made a comment about the ending scene, so they definitely watched it, so I mentioned it and mentioned a spoiler plot point.

They said "Hey, take it easy, some people don't like spoilers."

The only other person who was in the room was the person who recommended the movie. I pointed out that everyone had seen the movie already and Alex said, "you don't know for sure." And I reminded them about how they tweeted about and the other person said it was good. Alex got up and left, stopped talking to me for days, then told me the truth that they just didn't wanna talk and I should've picked it up.

Example #2: One time Alex was still in class sitting alone and I asked them if they were gonna leave, they said they're waiting for "Beth" so I can leave by myself, I told them Beth was absent and she wouldn't be coming here. Alex got angry and yelled at me for being insensitive and not knowing when to leave people alone.

Thing is, I can't tell if it was a lie, or if they were genuinely mistaken/misremembering something and I think clearing things up is helpful. Why can't people just say they don't wanna talk instead of making up a lie that's easy to figure out and call it social cue? The thing is, everyone else in the friend group told me I was being insensitive and "press the issue" when they clearly don't want to talk and "were being polite about it". So was I TA for pointing out something is contradictory/untrue?

#aita #am i the asshole

[dixons-sunshine]

Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter Two | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Daryl get a little bit more insight on your ambushers. The leader, Liam, is extremely suspicious, but you just can't figure out why. And to top it off, a certain secret of yours gets revealed that changes everything.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 3.6k.

A/n: It's finally done. I powered through and got it done. Yay me! However, this chapter is pretty boring with limited action, but I hope y'all like this nonetheless!

Taglist: @dixons-girl89, @jupiter1700, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @ddamm (comment/DM/inbox to be added!)

“I know, it's a lot to take in at first.” With a grand gesture and a big, inviting smile, Liam proudly showed off the beautiful landscape behind him, putting all of the luxuries they had on display for you and Daryl to see—well, as far as luxuries could go in a world ran by the undead. “But I promise you, as soon as you get settled into your new...” There was a slight pause before he continued. “...chambers, a wonderful life most certainly awaits you.”

The leader's voice barely reached your ears. The whole scenario baffled you; if they wanted you to join their community, why feel the need to ambush and kidnap you? Why tie you up and throw you in the back of a van, with a sack over your head to obscure your vision, most likely as a way to ensure you didn't know what turns they took? And why wouldn't they just ask you whether or not you wanted to join the community in the first place?

A million thoughts ran with the speed of light through your mind, but there was one thing you knew for sure; you didn't trust this Liam guy, and you certainly didn't trust this community. You could immediately tell that something was off. You couldn't figure out just yet what about it unnerved you so much.

“Dave, Marco.” At the sound of their names being called, the two guys who stood beside you and Daryl perked up, their backs straightening as they regarded their leader. “Make sure that the cooks make enough food for our newest additions. And,” he began, looking at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. Whether it was real or not, you didn't know yet. “Call up doctor Miller and tell him to expect two patients.”

“Why two?” one of the goons questioned. He looked at Daryl in disgust, something that irked you beyond belief. “Only the sexy lady here seems like she needs it.”

From the corner of your eye, you could clearly see Daryl tense up. To the untrained eye, they wouldn't even have noticed the way the archer's body language shifted, but you caught it. Of course you caught it. You knew Daryl better than anyone, and you knew that he was getting more pissed off by the second. One wrong move, and that man was more dead than the monster's that roamed the earth.

“Jesus, Dave,” Liam reprimanded him, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. “You knocked the guy out with some hardcore stuff. We don't know how much of the fumes he inhaled. I don't want to take any chances. Our guests need to be properly checked out.”

Dave grumbled something under his breath, but ultimately agreed. However, right before he and the other man, who you assumed to be Marco, walked off in the direction of a small building, he stopped next to Liam and whispered something in his ear. The leader nodded before waving him off. They left and soon disappeared, and your attention quickly got drawn to the leader again.

Liam turned back to regard you and your husband. His lips formed into a tight smile, his eyes squinting with the pull of the muscles. For some reason, the action sent a shiver up your spine, and definitely not the good kind you'd experience when Daryl softly traced his fingers over your back. You had a lot to be wary of, and this Liam guy certainly didn't make a very good first impression on you or Daryl. You were sure that your husband wanted to lunge at the man and pound his face into the ground with his bare hands, and you definitely didn't blame him. You wanted to do the exact same thing.

Liam motioned to someone over your shoulder. In moments, somebody was grabbing at your shoulders and hoisting you up onto your feet. You stumbled a bit, not tumbling back to the ground only because Liam stepped forward to steady you. You instantly jerked back, moving away from his touch. You would've punched him for even thinking of touching you when he was the reason you were probably light-years away from your friends and family, but the rope tightly binding your hands stopped you from doing so.

You heard grunting coming from behind you. You spun around and saw the same goon practically manhandling your husband, forcing him up to his feet. When Daryl struggled against his hold, the man decided that punching him would be a good decision. The sight of Daryl being knocked back down to the gravel unleashed a certain protectiveness in you, and you took a warning step forward.

“You stay the fuck away from him, and keep your goddamn hands to yourself!” you yelled in anger, moving over to your husband and sinking down to your knees beside him. You thanked your lucky stars that your hands were bound in front of you and not behind your back, because it allowed you to trace your fingers over his face, searching for any bleeding. “Baby—”

“M'alrigh',” Daryl mumbled, glaring up at his attacker, his eyes alight with the fire of a thousand suns. “Asshole punches like a girl. No offense, Peach.”

You gave him a small smile. “None taken.” You helped him sit back up with a lot of effort, your hands straining against the rope and getting rope burn in the process. You clambered up onto your knees and carefully stood up, struggling to maintain your balance. Daryl followed your lead, and soon the two of you were stood in front of the leader.

Liam gazed at the two of you thoughtfully, his face unreadable. His green eyes flickered between you and Daryl for a moment too long for your liking before he readapted his smile. “Sorry about that, mate,” he began, his gaze landing on Daryl before moving over to the goon that had just attacked Daryl a few moments prior. “Peter just doesn't know how to behave himself.” The aforementioned man cowered under his leader's gaze, something you instantly picked up on and locked in the back of your mind. “Don't worry, he'll be punished appropriately.”

“Sir, please, I'm so—”

“Save it,” Liam snapped, glaring at the man harshly. “You know the rules, Peter. All actions have consequences. Those are the rules. If I ease up on you, the next person will expect me to do so and order will be disrupted.” He stopped for a few moments, simply staring at Peter with an unreadable look in his eyes. “You are dismissed. I expect you to be in my office in two hours. If you're not, well, you know what will happen.”

Whether that last part was a warning or a threat, you didn't know. However, what you did know was that for whatever reason, this Peter guy was deathly terrified of his leader. He visibly slumped and averted his eyes from everyone as he hurried away, practically bolting as if being chased by something.

Now being left alone with Liam, your eyes locked with the man's green ones. You couldn't quite place your finger on it, but there was something wrong with the man in front of you. He reminded you a lot of the Governor, the more you thought about it, but at the same time, he was different. It annoyed you to no end that you couldn't quite figure out exactly what about the green-eyed man made you feel cautious.

Well, his men ambushed and kidnapped you and your husband, so that was a pretty good place to start.

“Once again, I am so incredibly sorry about that,” Liam started, his face adapting a look of sympathy. “Peter is a rather new addition to my ‘police force’, so to speak. He hasn't quite learned that we don't resort to violence unless it's an absolute necessity.” He stopped for a second, looking at you before sighing. “Miss, I truly am sorry about what Peter did to you as well. Please excuse me for saying this again, but you do look like shit.”

You couldn't understand what this man's deal was. Merely a few minutes ago, while he was surrounded by multiple of his men, he had seemingly mocked you about the injuries you had sustained. However, now he was apologizing and being sympathetic? What was this man's motive?

“Now, Daryl and Y/N, I believe?” Liam began, successfully gaining confused and guarded looks from both you and your husband.

“How the hell do ya know tha'?” Daryl barked defensively, straightening his back to appear larger—almost as if he was facing a bear.

Liam's lips twitched up into a small wicked smirk at the archer, but he very quickly disguised it with a welcoming smile. “I know a lot of things, mate.” He shrugged his shoulders and motioned to the farmland surrounding you. “I need to know things to keep my people safe. They depend on me, you know?”

“Still doesn't answer my goddamn question,” Daryl practically growled, taking a threatening step towards the man. “How the fuck do ya know our names?”

Liam didn't falter under the Dixon man's harsh glare. If anything, he straightened his posture and met Daryl head-on, his height adding an advantage over the archer. However, having known your husband for a long time, you knew it was time to intervene before he started a fight he wouldn't be able to finish. His hands were tied and Liam had who knows how many people to back him up. The two of you were heavily outnumbered and outgunned.

“Daryl,” you called to him softly, raising your tied hands to gently grip his shoulder. “I really don't think that's the thing we should be concerned about right now. It doesn't matter if he knows our names. What matters is that we have to get the fuck out of here. We do that by playing along for now,” you mumbled into his ear, quiet enough to not alert Liam of your plan.

Daryl glared at the leader of the community for a few moments longer before stepping back, sharing a determined look with you. You gave him a small smile before turning back to Liam, regarding the green-eyed man with a strained, fake smile.

“I'm sorry about him,” you began, your voice sickeningly sweet. You were taking a page out of Carol's book—you were playing the wolf in sheep's clothing, biding your time until you and Daryl could strike back. You could only hope that your earlier outburst towards Peter wouldn't be used to call your bluff. “It's just that we weren't brought here under the friendliest circumstances. And now you know our names and it's a bit creepy. He's being wary.”

“For good reason,” Liam replied with a nod, motioning for you and Daryl to follow him. You shared a look with Daryl before following behind the man, Daryl following close behind. “You can't be sure about the dangerous pricks that are out there.”

“Ironic, ain't it?” Daryl grumbled lowly, glaring at Liam through his hair as the two of you followed behind the leader. He received a slight jab to his stomach from your elbow, and he let out a soft grunt.

“You see, that's why we built this place.” Liam walked on and motioned to the fields on his left. There were multiple people working on the crops; some watering, some picking, and some planting. You couldn't be completely sure, but you swore you saw a faint glint of metal wrapped around most of the workers' legs. Were you just out of it from the pain in your head, or were those shackles?

“Well, built is the wrong word. We found this farm back when everything first went to shit. The crops and the farmhouse were luckily still standing. We... expanded, so to speak. We built the walls to keep the flesh eaters out and built more homes on the property to house our growing population.” He stopped and turned back to you and Daryl. “I hope you don't mind, but you'll have to stay in the farm house with me for the time being. We're busy building new homes but it won't be ready for another couple of weeks, maybe months.”

“Jus' one question 'fore we decide,” Daryl began, stepping forward. “Why'd ya have to bring us here by force? Why didn't ya jus' ask us to come here instead of kidnappin' us?”

Liam stared at Daryl with a blank expression on his face. His face didn't give anything away, and it unnerved you beyond belief. However, he soon gave the two of you yet another smile. You were genuinely starting to wonder if his face was starting to hurt from the excessive amount of smiling.

“There's a reason for everything, champ. However, not everyone is allowed to know my reasonings to the things I do. That's reserved for the people I trust. But do know that I did it for your own goods. Between you and me, that entire building was surrounded by flesh eaters. You most certainly would've died without my men.”

“Wha' the hell do ya know 'bout—”

“Sir? I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but Dr Miller is ready for the new arrivals,” a small, timid woman spoke up, gaining the attention of you, Daryl and Liam.

“Ah, Mariah,” Liam spoke, nodding at her in greeting. He turned back to you and Daryl, using his hand to motion towards the woman. “Please follow her to Dr Miller. He'll make sure to patch you up and ensure you're fit and ready for tomorrow.” He walked a few steps backwards and clapped his hands twice. “Welcome to Sunny Meadows! Come meet me in the farm house once you're done.”

With that, he turned around and stalked off, leaving you and Daryl alone with the woman, Mariah. The aforementioned woman turned to look at the two of you. She was nervously fidgeting with her hands, her posture slouched and her eyes couldn't decide whether to focus on you, your husband, your wounds, the ropes tying your hands together, or the ground. You were confused by her obvious fear towards you. What people was she used to dealing with? Did she really think that you were going to hurt her?

“Please follow me,” she stammered out with a nervous squeak, turning around and speeding off into the direction of the very same building those other men, Dave and Marco, had disappeared into earlier.

You hesitantly started following her. Daryl grumbled and followed your lead, glaring at any person who dared to lock eyes with him. You had to withhold your chuckles at your husband, knowing that it was neither the time nor place for that. Under normal circumstances, you'd laugh at your husband's antics. But not now. Not when your main priority was getting the hell out of that place.

You soon arrived at the makeshift medical building. You followed her in, taking in the pure doctor-like feel of the building. If you didn't know any better and somebody had blindfolded you and brought you here, you would've believed that this was a legitimate doctor's office. But you did know better.

A man, who you presumed to be this doctor Miller character everyone was talking about, placed a syringe down on the table and gave you all inviting smiles. “Welcome!” he greeted you enthusiastically—and rather loudly, too. You winced at the sound, being painfully reminded of the incessant throbbing in your skull. “You both look rather terrible. Who should I focus on first?”

“Owen,” Mariah began in a soft voice. “If I may, maybe the woman? She took quite the beating.”

“Peter?” the doctor inquired, shaking his head and sighing when Mariah nodded. “That man has sent more patients my way than any scavenging trip accident has. I don't even know why your husband still keeps him around.”

Wait, husband? Liam was Mariah's husband? Then why was he treating her like that? Why was she so scared of him? A million different possibilities ran through your mind for the obvious fear the woman held towards her husband, and none of them were good. Daryl's ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes. He visibly shared the same confusion as you. However, the doctor's orders caught your attention.

“Mariah, is it really necessary to have their hands tied? I can see the irritation from here. Please remove their binds.” Doctor Miller stopped for a moment, regarding you and Daryl with a thoughtful look. “Sir, ma'am, speaking from experience, please don't try to run or attack once those binds are removed. Whenever there's a new addition, the walls are very guarded. You'll be shot instantly.”

Mariah gingerly removed the ropes from your arms and tried to remove Daryl's. However, your husband flinched back at the foreign touch, making the woman confused. You simply gently pushed her aside and moved over to him, starting to untie his binds. This time, Daryl stood still, and in no time at all, his hands were freed. He rubbed his wrists, the rope burns visible.

“Alright,” the doctor started. “Ma'am, please lay down on the bed. I'll tend to you shortly. Sir, you may take a seat on that chair next to the bed while you wait.”

You looked out of the window and weighed your options. However, the doctor wasn't lying; there were multiple guards patrolling the walls in the distance. There also were guards walking up to the makeshift medical building, most likely being sent to ensure you and Daryl didn't try anything.

You had no other option. You had to continue playing along.

You slowly walked over to the bed and laid down. Daryl hesitantly plopped himself down on the chair next to the bed, his eyes darting around the room. He was clearly trying to think of an escape plan, but he wasn't succeeding.

“Alright,” Doctor Miller began, walking out of the side room and rolling a machine out with him.

You instantly knew what that machine was. “No, doctor, you can't. No, don't—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Daryl stood up from the chair and glared at the doctor, his mind instantly assuming the worst at your reaction. “The hell is tha'?”

“Sir, please relax.” Mariah walked up to the side of the bed, grabbing a tube of some sort of gel from the drawer. “We have some new equipment we've been wanting to test out. We found this ultrasound machine yesterday. We just want to test it out and make sure it works.”

Your heart stopped beating. All at once, thoughts of your unborn baby flooded your mind. You couldn't believe that you had forgotten about the fact that you were pregnant. With everything that happened, your mind neglected to remind you of that pivotal fact. And now everyone was going to know, including your husband who you had yet to tell.

“Doc, I don't think that's a good idea,” you warned him, pleaded with him, but the man didn't listen.

“Nonsense. This'll be over before you know it. It won't hurt, I promise you.”

“Ma'am, can I lift your shirt?” Too frozen to answer her, you simply stared. Deciding for you, Mariah lifted your shirt a bit and opened the tube with the gel. “This might be a bit cold.”

The cold was the least of your worries. You had taken quite the beating. What if your baby was hurt? What if your baby was dead? What if the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat? All of those thoughts flooded your mind, so much so that you barely heard Daryl talking to the doctor.

“Why does she need'a do tha'? Can't some other chick do this?”

“I was going to ask someone to come in today to test it, but she's here now. Might as well get it out of the way.” Doctor Miller started with the exam, placing the object on your stomach and moving it around. At first, the screen didn't pick up a thing, and that made you want to cry. However, the steady thumping of a heartbeat could soon be heard, and a small figure appeared on the screen.

“Oh, wow. That's a strong heartbeat,” Doctor Owen Miller told you with a smile, the ultrasound depicting a growing baby. “Congratulations, you two.”

Your heart was attempting to jump out of your chest. It was amazing to you that the little blob on the screen would soon develop into a baby, your baby. You would pick out their name and scavenge for things for your little one, and you're sure Daryl would—

Oh, god. Daryl.

Slowly looking over to your left, you locked eyes with your husband. Instead of finding the love, affection and adoration that usually swam in his ocean coloured eyes, you found something else. You found anger, shock, worry, but above all else? You could see a renewed sense of determination in his eyes.

The archer was pissed at you for hiding your pregnancy and convincing him to let you wander beyond the walls, but he couldn't think about that. He had to get you to safety, away from these monsters. He had to keep you and your unborn baby safe.

The doctor should've heeded your warning. The doctor never should've insisted to take an ultrasound. Because of doctor Owen Miller, Daryl Dixon was determined. Daryl Dixon was going to tear that whole place apart, and anyone who dared to lay a finger on you would meet an agonizing end.

The people of Sunny Meadows were going to pay.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #yielding isn't my middle name #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader smut #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you

[cringefailkralie]

ridiculously long list of things i’ve noticed about thomas grant and adam wadsworth’s portrayals of albus and scorpius

sorry in advance if this is messy, i wrote this at like 4am

albus flinches away when james steps too close to him!!!

when scorpius asks albus whether he prefers albus or al, he doesn’t have to think about his answer. instead he just looks shocked that someone was actually asking that, like nobody’s ever considered his feelings before. makes me feel like he’d been waiting his entire life for someone to actually ask him that.

tom’s albus doesn’t cry during the fight with harry like i’ve seen a lot of the other actors do. he just stares blankly ahead of him and completely shuts down. i’m head over heels in love with this choice because it really hammers home how hard it is for albus to express his feelings or communicate with anyone.

albus’s reaction to the love potion really really makes me believe that ron intended it to be a mean gay joke. even if ron didn’t intend for it to come across that way, that’s definitely what albus takes it as.

scorpius is just staring vacantly at a wall before he spots albus on the train in their 4th year. not sure if this is a specific acting choice or if i’m just reading into it too much?

they hold hands for a second and stand with their faces an inch away from each other as soon as they duck into their train compartment. their body language in private is so different from their body language in public.

albus squeezes his eyes closed when they hug. he really needed that physical affection but he hates anyone but scorpius being near him.

scorpius puts his hand on albus’s chest when the train starts moving. nothing to say about that its just really gay.

my favorite delivery of “oooo a quiz… WIZZO!!!” i fucking love how he does jazz hands when he says it, especially because it’s the second time he does jazz hands in that scene. he’s so me.

albus does so many little hand gestures in this scene, he’s way more comfortable being expressive around scorpius. he almost mirrors scorpius’s stupid little mannerisms.

bonus- not scorbus related but craig is first seen wearing his beanie on the train during the this sequence (where albus and scorpius decide to run away)!! idk if they don’t do this in other productions or if i just hadn’t ever picked up on it before, but it’s a really cute detail. does anyone know if he canonically got it when he became head boy?

when amos first tells them to leave, scorpius grabs onto albus’s sleeve

not even technically them but the ron and harry actors grab onto each other sooooo much (as albus and scorpius)

in love with how long scorpius hold out his “WIIIIIIIZZZOOOO” and how albus tries to match his energy with the “DOUBLE WIZZO”

delphi steals scorp’s little phrases and his awkward way of speaking and his mannerisms to try and appeal to albus because she knows that he reeeeally likes him- and i hate hate HATEEEE how she makes him feel like a freak for being himself when all the while she’s stealing his personality. scorpius plays with the fabric of his sweater and then fidgets with his hands after she tries to make him feel left out in the forbidden forest and i can FEEL what he’s feeling through the screen.

scorpius is JEALOUS jealous of delphi and when he talks to her his voice is quiet and monotone, which is the most un-scorpius thing ever. i love it. you can feel how much he hates her. i hate her too, this delphi is despicable. (very talented actress!!)

when scorpius tears his eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of them to look at albus and say “you’re my best friend” (which is crazy enough on its own) he talks in a really sweet, low voice before returning really quickly to his normal scorp-voice, as if he was afraid to let albus think about what had just happened

albus jumps up and down with excitement when they announce the triwizard tournament. he starts and then has to stop himself from cheering for hogwarts. funny that a guy who was just saying how much he hates hogwarts would do a thing like that.

everyone around scorpius gets startled when he starts cheering for krum because his screaming is so weird lmao

at the end of the scene where albus tells scorpius they’ll be better off without each other, scorpius just slumps over on the steps and stays there for the ENTIRETY of the next scene until he eventually gets wheeled off with the stairs. it looks like he’s fiddling with something? maybe his wand? maybe just his hands?

obviously the staircase ballet is the staircase ballet, but the way they look at each other is just AAAAUUUUGHHHHHHH

at the end of the ballet scorpius steps towards albus first, but albus is the one who reaches his hand out and slinks down onto the steps

obsessed with that gay little purse scorpius carries the time turner in

delphi gets scorpius to let his guard down during their conversation and scorpius starts talking like himself in front of her again!!!

albus does the little puke-gag-joke-thing in the library to try and make scorpius feel better </3

they’re both fidgeting with their hands throughout their whole conversation :(

ALBUS’S LITTLE GIGGLE WHEN SCORPIUS AGREES TO COME WITH HIM TO FIX TIME

this isn’t specific to this production but scorpius’s shoes are one of my favorite details. in the normal world, he wears big clunky shoes to showcase his awkwardness, whereas in the dark dimension he wears running shoes!! evil scorp is athletic!!!

the second “im fighting for albus” that comes out of scorpius’s mouth is said almost entirely to himself

their little hug in the water :,)

i LOVE LOVE LOVE that scorpius tries to hug draco and he pushes him away and throws his jacket at him in such a cold manner. it makes their hug near the end feel so much more important to their relationship. as soon as we meet scorpius he immediately refers to himself as having daddy issues and we don’t see nearly enough of that in this play.

bonus p2- one of my favorite parts of this show is the in trouble again number!!! i love the background gang and all of their little scenes like this. craig being a little gossip monger is funny as shit!!!! it gives him so much personality and makes his death that much sadder :(

the delivery of “scorpius….. he matters to me…. you know that don’t you?” is INSANE. tom grant delivers all of the coming out adjacent lines so perfectly.

i love how scorpius moves his body. he waves his arms around in the air so often.

scorpius tickled albus lmao they’re so weird

when scorpius talks about hating the other world, albus throws in “apart from polly chapman fancying you” quite bitterly and scorpius almost completely cuts him off. he doesn’t acknowledge what he said in any way shape or form and albus seems to notice that he’s not interested in polly.

scorpius rubs his socks on the floor while he talks :3

the choice to have scorpius move from his bed to albus’s bed and pull albus’s blanket into his lap when he tells him that he changed himself back for him is so AAAUGHHH

AND SCORPIUS DOES THE SAME THING THAT HE DID EARLIER AGAIN!!! he gets all quiet and sweet when he’s sort of admitting his feelings to albus and then all of a sudden he stands up and goes back to his normal loud voice

“MALFOY THE UNANXIOUS IS A PRRRRRETTY GOOD LIIIIAAAR”

delphi mocking scorpius and him immediately tensing up oh he hates her ass so much

scorpius reaches out to try and intercept albus handing delphi the time turner and albus giggles at scorpius because he’s happy she’s not extremely pissed at them

scorpius holds onto the railing right up until he gets his hands bound together because he’s afraid of heights. thought it was cute that adam chose to do this even though his fear of heights isn’t mentioned anywhere in this version.

i LOVE the torture scene in this version. albus is stone faced when delphi is threatening to torture him and then he IMMEDIATELY falls to his knees begging and pleading when she turns toward scorpius.

delphi is quite literally outing albus in this scene. the silence after she says that love is his weakness and points to scorpius is SO long and SO loud omg. it’s quite literally ten whole seconds (i counted) of albus and scorpius just looking at each other. it genuinely feels like she just spilled out what he’s been keeping inside of himself for so long, it’s gutwrenching. i guess they did just watch craig die so they do in fact have bigger problems, but you can see albus’s heart stop beating and its so terrible.

i love how albus turns to scorpius when the stationmaster starts unintelligibly talking to them like “hey, you’re doing the talking rn just so you know”

i’m obsessed with how excited scorpius is to tell albus all about the history of the place they’re in. in love with his little gasps at everything he sees and his jump when he says “SQUEAK!”

albus motioning for scorpius to stop when he’s demonstrating how to scream for help lmaoooo

albus pointing with both hands at scorpius while they try to come up with a plan is so cute. albus believes in him so much.

i love how scorpius keeps hugging draco even as he’s talking

their foreheads are literally brushing against each other my god these bitches gay

albus asks “and thats who you want in your palace?” in an almost panicked way like he’s afraid scorpius doesn’t feel the same way about him.

albus holds onto scorpius’s shoulders while rose tries to reassure them that they didn’t just get walked in on lmao

3rd and final instance of scorpius trying to change the subject- asking immediately about quidditch so albus doesn’t get the chance to say anything related to what just happened

scorpius says “come on” like he’s trying to get albus to come cut a rug with him at a middle school dance

obsessed with their little gagging and puking bit and how they made it a callback to what albus does in the library

maybe my favorite hug moment from any scorbus duo. i love how albus initially reacts with shock but then melts into it and closes his eyes, only pulling away to make sure he’s not reading the situation entirely wrong (he’s not)

my favorite ending scene by far. the coming out hits SO hard. the way albus fiddles with his zipper and scrunches up his sleeve in his hand, you can tell how absolutely terrified he is of saying this to his dad. the line delivery is genuinely fantastic. the more he pauses the longer you have to take it all in- and he pauses a LOT.

okie thanks for reading!!!!!

#hpcc #scorbus #the cursed child #scorpius malfoy #albus potter #albus severus potter #harry potter and the cursed child #harry potter #albus x scorpius #cursed child #scorpius hyperion malfoy #craig bowker jr #james sirius potter #lily luna potter #rose granger weasley #yann fredericks #polly chapman #karl jenkins

[laylajeffany]

Their Own Kind of Pride | Wenclair Microfic

Sitting in an airport experiencing an act of homophobia because Delta has delayed my flight FIVE TIMES and it's the only thing keeping me from kissing my girlfriend for the first time in seven weeks. DURING PRIDE MONTH? Actually - I've got really complicated feelings on that - so here's a 2.5k microfic that is set in the Murder, She Woe universe about six months into Wednesday and Enid's move to Grisly Cove. How I wrote this in the most overstimulating environment after an hour at the airport bar - I don't know. A pride miracle I guess.

Rated: G TW: Talk about complicated feelings surrounding pride

“Should we order a rainbow flag?”

Wednesday stared at her wife with unblinking eyes, trying to determine if she was serious or not. Enid cringed, glancing to the side. “I mean…it’s fine, we don’t have to do that!”

One – the clashing colors, two the display of pride…oh. Was that more of the problem, other than the colors? Wednesday took a brief look inward as she tried to determine which was more of a reflection of her feeling about such a flag. Generally – she was against any sort of show of patriotism or allegiance. She didn’t need anyone to know where she stood on anything by looks alone.

Wednesday tilted her head, wanting more information before outright rejecting Enid. “Tell me what your thoughts are in wanting to hang a flag that represents the LGBTQIA+ community in front of our home.”

“Um…we’re gay?” Enid offered, then let out a giggle. “And June is like – somehow, only three days away. This year is slipping between my fingers, I swear – if I had like, fully realized summer was this close, I would have been making very different choices in my workout routine -”

“Say a negative comment about your body and I’m going to take you to the bedroom and write poetry over every part. And not in the kinky way you want,” Wednesday said, pulling a dip pen out of seemingly nowhere. Enid pouted. “You have a body, and you’re going to put a bikini on it – therefore, you have a bikini body. I want to see you in your little triangles, barely covering you with your little silly strings holding them together. Don’t you dare take that away from me.”

Enid flushed.

“Back to the topic at hand,” Wednesday glanced up from the piece of steak she had been neatly slicing into which she’d seared to rare perfection for her wife – medium-well for herself. “Why would you want to display a pride flag?”

“It feels like the right thing to do,” Enid replied as she looked to the side. “I mean…we’ve never…done any pride stuff, together. I obviously never dated any girls before you – so, it’s not like I did any on my own. Now that we finally have our own place, I thought maybe…but we don’t have to. For real, I just – was…putting it into the universe.”

Wednesday bit her lip. Pride in the strange, touristy-town they’d moved into six months prior was about to be A Big Deal. She had seen the advertisements, on her occasional trip into town – and Enid was already working overtime at the establishment she’d secured a gig in, which was absolutely rainbow-inspired. Sighing, she wondered, “Are you anticipating participating in any of the downtown events?”

“I mean…I don’t know – when I say that I just realized it was about to be June, I’m totally not just saying that.” Enid sighed, trying not to inhale her food as she spoke. Wednesday twitched – she always waited too long to eat…especially so close to a full moon…she wished her wife would take better care of herself –

“Are you expected to participate in the parade, of all things, with your workplace?” Wednesday wondered, unable to keep a disgusted sort of grimace off her face.

Enid rolled her eyes. “We’re not required to…but…” She bit her lip. “I kind of…I kind of want to.”

“You already work at a gay bar, Enid.” Wednesday could barely comprehend what was going on during their dinner hour (four o’clock in the afternoon, that Thursday – Enid had to work). “Do you want to be made a spectacle of?”

“Well – that’s…kind of what I’m hoping, generally, Wednesday – you know I love it there, you know I want to…maybe be in the show someday, I don’t know how, I mean…it’s not like I have an act, but…yeah, I’d like to be in the parade with my work friends.”

Friends…right. Enid had made a host of those.

“Okay,” Wednesday said and then could’ve practically gulped as she wondered, “Do you…want me to…watch?”

Enid managed to smile again and shook her head. “No, you don’t have to take yourself to a parade, Wednesday. Though it does feel like the optimal time for someone to be unsuspectingly pick-pocketed. Maybe you could go and observe petty crime and get some inspiration for your novel.”

“I have plenty of inspiration,” She said, somehow – avoiding a massive subject.

“So, I’ll take it – that’s a ‘you do you’ on the parade, and a hard ‘no’ on the flag?” Enid asked after a full minute of quiet.

“Enid,” Wednesday placed her knife and fork down, deciding she was going to make a very bold decision in that moment. “I have never felt like I belonged in any community. This community – you and I…maybe with the addition of some of our old outcast friends from school…that’s all the community I’ve ever needed.” Enid nodded her head – going along with whatever Wednesday wanted…

…but that was not what Wednesday wanted.

“I said I…not we,” She cautioned, leaning forward a little bit, wishing she hadn’t tossed her hair in braids that morning – so she’d have looked more…mature, when delivering such an assured monologue. “You have always enjoyed belonging. It’s always been important to you to be a part of something that is bigger than yourself.” Enid swallowed and looked to the side – her eyes were visibly misting over. Hardly able to stand it, Wednesday reached for her hand. “That is not a bad thing. That is a normal thing. That is what people are supposed to want – to be part of life with other people.” Wednesday rolled her eyes a little, squeezing her hand instead of withdrawing her own like she wanted to. “I wish I wanted to be part of life with other people,” She said in almost a whisper. “Just because I need to hide in the shadows doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let the sun shine on you. If you want to order a rainbow flag, we will hang it on the front porch. Perhaps we should get two – to hang one from the back for the boats that enjoy riding around the cape to see as well.”

Enid blinked out twin tears that she could clearly not avoid. Wednesday’s internal guilt meter (that only ever activated when Enid was involved) intensified. “Enid,” She sternly called for her to explain when a full minute of silence passed. Her wife almost never stopped talking – and she was going to choose then to be quiet? “What are you thinking?”

“Just…that…I’m…really happy, that you think it would be okay to hang that flag.”

Defying her body’s urge to drop her shoulders in a most dramatic sigh, Wednesday gave a curt nod. She waited, for more…and when none came, she decided to finish cutting her steak.

They ate in not uncomfortable quiet, but…there was obviously more to say. As Wednesday took Enid’s plate upon finishing, she felt her grip her wrist. “Um…I’m going to…I need…” Enid let out a near whimper. “Can we go talk, for a minute?”

Wednesday swallowed a lump in her throat that was far from unexpected, though that didn’t mean she could tolerate it. She made sure her face didn’t betray her and stiffly followed Enid to the living room, where their new-ish sofa looked way too comfortable for the discomfort that Wednesday had swirling in her gut.

She sat on the edge of an ottoman and Enid paced for a bit in front of her, clearly working up nerve and courage. After so much time passed that Wednesday thought she was going to get motion sick from watching her turn and pace and turn and pace, Wednesday gripped her wrist, forcing Enid to suck in a breath. “Don’t be afraid to tell me what’s on your mind. I want to hear it. Even if I disagree – I’m not going to rebuke you, Enid.”

Enid collapsed into a puddle of tears beside her. Fully unsure why, Wednesday tapped into the part of her brain that was responsible for demonstrating her very limited scope of affection, almost all of which was reserved for her wife. Curling an arm around her and tucking her close, she let Enid get her shirt collar all wet as she unexpectedly heaved another sob. Wednesday almost felt a flutter of fear in her chest as she waited for Enid to clam enough to express what the tears were all about.

It was some time – a long time. Whatever Enid had been holding in, related to that damn rainbow flag…she’d been holding it in for a long time.

Finally, after her heart was about to hammer right out of her chest in anticipation of what her wife would say, Wednesday tried not to look relieved when she started speaking.

“When my mother rejected me…” Enid sniffed. “I knew – it wasn’t…just because of this. It was just…maybe…” She shivered – her face so blotchy and red, Wednesday really…just – surprisingly, almost wanted to take her to bed and…cuddle and hug her until it cleared.

Enid tried talking again, but her words got stuck in her throat. She practically choked as she tried to speak. “Enid, come here,” Wednesday insisted, scooting back into the corner of the sofa and opening her arms. Enid nodded, crawling onto the cushions and into them, the sigh she released like a deflating balloon. Wednesday rubbed a hand up and down her back, kissing her temple three times. Enid let out a near coo, then, nuzzling her face into Wednesday’s neck. “Do you want me to call your jerk of a boss?” She whispered, “Tell him you’re not well?”

“No,” She muttered. “I want to go to work. I like work. I just…want to tell you about why this is so important to me, first, okay? And – we can totally cuddle until then, I’ll find a drag queen to coverup any hives left on my face when I get there.”

Rubbing her back again, Wednesday nodded, kissing her one last time. Enid shifted, so she could look up at her, practically cradled in her hug. “Finding out that I loved you was the nail in the coffin, for my relationship with my mom, for my standing in my old pack. You know that.” Wednesday tried not to think about it – that she was the ultimate reason that Enid’s mother had cast her only daughter aside… “For so long…I felt like…this part of me, the…interested in girls part of me was…was…like a curse, almost. There wasn’t a single thing I’d ever done to meet my mom’s expectations – and then…I went and defied gender norms and expectations, too.”

Wanting to rebuttal, but holding her tongue, Wednesday let Enid finish. “And…I don’t know – I never felt, like…ashamed or anything, because I am attracted to women, because I love you – I literally would tell anyone that we’re married. Sometimes against your will,” Enid giggled a little, obviously thinking back to their honeymoon when she managed to get them free drinks everywhere they went for her inability to keep the news to herself. “But…I’ve also never celebrated it. I’ve never taken the time to think about the fact that – hey, a lot of people struggled for us to be able to legally do this – to be together, to be in love – that…so many people worked for so long to make marriages like ours legal. And there’s so much more to it – I’m learning so much at my new job…but – Wednesday, I think…I think I’m just…I’m proud of myself, for the first time, in this way.”

Nodding, Wednesday was proud of her for being proud of herself. She might not share the sentiment - but, she could celebrate her wife.

“I want to walk in the parade, because I’m not ashamed of who I am and who I love. But I also don’t want you to feel like – you are, because you’re not interested in participating? I don’t know, now this all feels complicated and kind of icky…”

Cupping her cheek, Wednesday tilted her own head. “Look at me, dead in the eye. Not for one single second do I feel…icky,” She parroted her own word back to her, “Because you want to march in a gay pride parade. I don’t feel embarrassed, and I don’t feel shame.”

Enid bit her lip, looking conflicted. “But…I know it’s hard – can you tell me what do you feel about it, Wednesday?”

She gave a genuine shrug. “I don’t feel anything about it. If it will make you happy, if this is how you want to express yourself, then I want you to do it!” She almost shouted the ending and Enid blinked a few times in apparent surprise at the tone she was using. “I just…I just…”

Enid took a turn to put a hand on her face, clearly making sure her eyes didn’t wander to the side, but stayed locked on hers. “Tell me.”

“I…don’t know, Enid. You know that rainbows are never going to be my thing. There is just not a universe where I can put a rainbow flag in my fist and go walking down the street with it. That’s not me. I don’t experience pride in that way.”

“But…you are proud, aren’t you?”

“I’m proud of myself,” Wednesday declared, “For opening myself up to love, to the person who deserves love more than anyone else I have ever known.”

At that, Enid’s eyes welled up again.

“I’m not interested in a parade. I’m indifferent to a flag on the house. But I am proud, every time I walk out of the door with you – Enid,” She almost smiled. “I’m proud of being behind these doors with you. I’m proud of everything that happens on this couch – I’m proud of being able to snuggle with you like this, and all the things that I’ve allowed myself to engage in in our bedroom…Enid,” She did smile then. “I do have pride. It might not be the corporate, parade-going, deals-at-the-bar while Lady BlahBlah or whoever plays way too loud kind of pride. But – I’m proud of myself, for being open to love with you.”

Enid attacked her in a kiss as she straddled her suddenly, then held onto her so tight – it was almost difficult to breathe. Wednesday gripped her just as tightly back, hoping that she’d successfully conveyed what she needed to.

When Enid pulled back for another kiss, much sweeter that time, and rubbed a hand along her collar bone, she let out a breath of relief. They’d both understood one another, keenly. They both had pride, in their own way. “Enid, I will come to the parade to watch you. So long as you don’t expect me to wave a flag or dance. But when it’s over, I’ll be there to kiss you, and tell you about how I disassociated a vivid scene for my book about a horrible act taking place at such a function.”

Giving a full laugh and a very proud smile, Enid kissed the side of her cheek. “Maybe we just hang one flag on the house instead of two. That might be overkill.”

“One flag sounds acceptable,” Wednesday agreed, squeezing her hip – thinking…if Enid really worked her over – perhaps she’d even show up for a single night in June at her club…a Tuesday though - not a weekend, and not during that ridiculous show. The only way she’d ever drag herself to such an event would be if Enid were the shining star of it – and since she didn’t even have an act, Wednesday was sure, she’d never find herself spending more time at the club than she wanted to.

#wednesday 2022 #wenclair #pride #one-shot #the plane literally just arrived as I finished reading this #it looks like it's only a hate crime because I hated it #layla's >5k challenge #murder she woe #needless to say barely edited #enjoy this is the only sort of pride stuff I can manage bc I feel like Wednesday :)

[bridgetoesoteria]

Sweet Sweet Revenge 😈 (PAC)....

I'm baaack, and I've got a spicy reading for us. Some people did vote for a revenge fantasy on the last poll, so here it is. How can you get your lick back (I am not telling anyone to go out & do any of these things).

Just two piles today, left to right as per us:

I will be pulling multiple cards so I won't have the cards listed like usual.

Pile 1

Off the Bat: I am getting the vibe that this is an ex-boyfriend for some of you, or a current partner (interesting..). For some of you, the ultimate revenge would be getting with someone in their social circle. For some of you its a specific person, like their cousin; For others, it could be anyone that is connected to them somehow, because they would find it humiliating. It would eat them alive, especially if you are already ignoring them.

Even after pulling cards, I still get this vibe of moving on. It might not even be a full fledged relationship. If you are experiencing different partners, following your heart/passions, it would eat them alive. Maybe they wanted to keep you ignorant to what else is out there. You discovering someone who treats you better or "treats" you better (wink wink), would keep them up at night.

If some of you were in some kind of third-party, or if you know of something else underhanded that was going on, revealing the truth would probably cause a huge tower moment in their life. It could impact their home, their finances, their ego. Lol I'm also getting the energy of standing someone up. There are a few cards I associate with waiting, followed by the world card, which I would consider the closing of a cycle. So, pretending you want to try again, then just not following through on whatever you promised would hurt them. They would feel small, and be upset they fell for something so petty. Perhaps they have made you feel like this in the past.

Clarified and still getting the energy of ending something and taking a leap of faith. For some this isn't romantic. There could be a domineering energy in your life, some examples: strict religious/spiritual community, father figure, structured environment like college or an office. Speaking your truth, defending yourself against any manipulative attempts at reeling you back in, would be crushing, I'm assuming since its coming up in a revenge reading. I think that could be because this person cares a lot about how they are perceived. Some of you could be a pastors daughter or have a parent that is a public figure. So they try to control you, because they see you as an extension of themselves, therefore your reputation is their reputation. (Not really but that's how they think).

These are some controlling mofos. So the ultimate revenge is really taking charge of your life.

Pile 2

Off the Bat: So, right away, I am hearing "nemesis" lol, so this may not be your first tango with this person. You could have gotten in fights or disagreements before. Someone has a feisty personality, I'm not sure if it's you or the other person though. I'm seeing white tennis shoes, so that could be significant in a way. And pink rain boots.

For some of you I am hearing, "cut this person off financially". So, maybe you are a provider or help out in some way. Oof, I would really hope no one is biting the hand that feeds them smh. I'm seeing an older southern woman, she may or may not be well off. Okay, now this is pile is feelin a little scandalous..some y'all might really be about that life lol

For some of you it could be you turning people against this person, or ruining their reputation. It could involve getting them written out of a will. Taking their place somehow, it could be to do with the inheritance or something like being in a play or on a cheer squad. There could be a specific person you want to see affected by this, besides the main target of your revenge. Maybe this other person puts them on a pedestal, and you want to ruin the image that other person has of them. For some you this could be as messy as objecting at a wedding, crashing a date, or even getting with someone's partner. I'm hearing "little miss sunshine," so maybe this person is seen as sweet and like they can do no wrong.

I think a lot of you already have some ideas for what you would want to do. I don't think you act on it, but you might enjoy sitting back and thinking of all the "what ifs". I've also been hearing "peekaboo", so there is definitely an element of surprise here. You probably would not tell anyone about this plan. If you aren't crashing someone else's wedding, it could be your own?? Maybe you have considered leaving them at the altar, or just completely ghosting. Like falling off the face of the earth, no one knows where you are, or what you're doing.

If this person upended your life, you want turn their upside down too. They could have brought a lot of challenges and strife into your world. If this person has tried to make you a "mini me" in some way, or they have tried gaslighting you or keeping you in a state of confusing. Thinking for yourself, accepting the actual reality of the situation--not the reality they have been trying to sell you--, and moving on would "put this person in their place". It would especially hurt them if you leaving would mean you're in the 5 of pentacles somehow: less money, less of a social circle, single (because you would be leaving them).

An Aside: If any of you are thinking about causing serious physical harm to someone, please speak to a therapist about this. If a person really hurt you, it's understandable to be angry, but you don't want to be in an even worse situation. And it would probably feel nice to be able to get it off your chest, in a non judgmental environment

#tarotcommunity #tarot reading #intuitive readings #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #tarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #psychic readings #free tarot reading #tarot reader #divination

[pinksiames]

Teacher AU Headcanons!

Headcanons for my fic linked here

Gale despite being so young doesn’t really get on social media, and when he does use it it’s silly tiktoks that no one else but him find funny

He’s legally blind and extremely near-sided, he cannot function without his glasses, running into walls and stumbling over things when he doesn’t have them on

He used to have coke bottle lenses but started getting thinner lenses cause of how much he was getting bullied growing up

He’s a cat person! He loves dogs but he likes cats more since in his experience they’re more friendly (he almost got attacked by a chow chow as a kid)

He’s been thinking about adopting a cat so he isn’t as lonely at home

He’s a huge space and sci-fi nerd (obviously) and had dreams of becoming an astronaut as a kid, but realized how lonely he would get being so far from earth

His first tattoo he got was a back piece of the solar system, and every year for his birthday he splurges and gets another one! Mostly matching his theme of space and the beyond

He used to have his lobes pierced when he was a teenager but got caught by his dad, who then almost ripped his earlobe off trying to get them out of gales ears

He and Benny became friends in college! They were roommates freshmen and sophomore year and continued to talk and hang out after getting paired with different people

People have told him he smells like roasted pecans

Marge was and still is his best friend, while she still lives in Wyoming they talk constantly

They had a small fling back in high school until they both realized they were gay! But they continued “dating” to save face for both of their families

He easily became one of the more favorited teachers in the school, his classroom being open to anyone who needed it, he ends up with kids who aren’t even his students in his class

His students make fun of him for having to lift his glasses and squint at his phone when he’s trying to read something

The kids have suspicions about Gale and John being together (they’re secretly together but they don’t need to know that) it’s hard not too when John is in gales room almost 24/7, chatting him up while kids file in, bringing him lunches, calling him Buck instead of Mr Cleven when Gale sticks to strictly Coach Egan

Someone ends up making a TikTok video with him in it and it goes viral, so they get some of his students to make his own TikTok account that ends up being ran by Bucky so he can monitor who comments what (he gets jealous when people find his favorite coworker hot)

Bucky went to a local community college near his Ma’s place and then went to the university of Michigan where he played on their baseball team! He was on his way to playing in the MLB until he had a bad accident and destroyed his shoulder :(

He has a titanium plate in his shoulder! He likes to joke about how he’s practically part cyborg because of it

He ended up changing majors since he wanted to still do something in sports, going into sports management and physical education

He started coaching at a decently young age at 23 (he’s 26 now) and has basically taught in Texas since he graduated

He ending up moving down to Texas because of the teacher/coach shortage they were having, but he still visits his mom and sister during school breaks

He has his high school and college medals and trophies up on display in his office with his degrees

He loves all of his kids, making sure each and everyone of them were included, super fundraising to make sure all of them could go on trips or get the best gear and uniforms

He goes to the gym religiously but refuses to be one of those “gym bros” (he definitely is) and posts on his instagram of him flexing in the mirror or just working out in general (he won’t admit it but he hopes Gale sees the post) (sadly he never will cause Gale doesn’t use instagram)

Hope yall enjoyed my rambling!

#teacher au #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #buck x bucky #masters of the air #kay’s writing

[hibiscus02]

Am I the only one who genuinely believes there's a possibility that the Handler has dinosaur DNA? I mean, we know there's been serious plans to include that in the franchise before, and we know human cloning is already canon in the movies, so it's not that far-fetched.

But also, many people have pointed out the way she moves/looks, but I haven't seen anyone talk about the scene in the warehouse where one of the raptors sniffs the kids out, and it tells her.

I mean, literally, there was obviously some manner of clear communication going on there. She senses the change in the raptor's behavior, then gets down to eye level and they stare at each other intensely for a bit. Then she fucking smiles. That, to me, was an indication that not only she learned there was still someone in the warehouse, she knew it was the very same people she's been hunting.

And, as other people have mentioned, she clearly has a bond with her raptors, even willing to back off after she saw they were injured.

Of course, none of this is hard proof that she's part dinosaur. The Handler might just be a weird ass woman, who loves her animals a lot. Buuuut I think there's enough hints there for us to not dismiss the theory completely.

#jurassic world chaos theory #jwct #jwcc #jwct spoilers #chaos theory #jurassic world chaos theory spoilers #jwcc spoilers #the handler #the handler jwct #handler jwct

[elljayvee]

Today I'm more than usually annoyed with a pop science article, so I'm going to talk about reading these sorts of articles, why you should always be skeptical of claims in them, and some of the ways you can tell the article's author didn't understand what they were reading and told you the wrong thing.

I clicked on an article in Eating Well about low bone density and dementia, because my mother has both. There's not a lot we can do for her now, but I am a curious person. I know Eating Well isn't great at science interpretation and communication, so I'm anticipating that I'm going to need to read the original study already, going in. (How do I know Eating Well isn't a great source usually? Well, I have read it before, and it has some really clear biases if you read a few articles that aren't science communication, and so you get to know a source over time like that. Regardless of how, I'm already suspicious they're not going to do a great job.)

The article is talking about research that shows low bone density may be predictive of dementia risk. It is written by a journalist and reviewed by a dietician. Now, I don't know what review the dietician did, but she did a bad job, and also, so did the journalist, because THE FIRST red flag that goes up is pretty quick: the math is very, very clearly wrong.

This says there are 3651 participants, and that over 11 years, 688 of them developed dementia. This is 18.8% and the article calls it 19%. That's fair! Not a red flag so far, just rounding. Then it says that of the 1211 people with lowest bone density at the start, 90 people (7.4%) developed dementia, and of the 1211 with highest bone density, only 57 (4.7%) did.

This IS a red flag. It's a GIANT red flag. This red flag can be seen from SPACE by anyone who knows how percentages work.

Here's how: You have 3651 people. 1211 of them are in the low bone density group, 1211 of them are in the high bone density group, leaving 1249 people. You have 688 total dementia cases, but your high and low groups account for only 147 of them, leaving 541 cases for that middle group. That's a LOT of cases. That middle tertile, just eyeballing it, has to have about 40% of its people with dementia -- that makes low bone density look like it predicts LOWER dementia risk relative to the middle group.

I can write out the equations for you two ways:

3651 - 1211 - 1211 = 1249 688 - 90 - 57 = 541 541/1249 = 0.433 0.433(100) = 43.3%

Because I am someone who does a fair amount of stats for a living, though, what I noticed was pretty much this equation:

0.074(1211) + x(1249) + 0.047(1211) = 0.19(3651) and I knew immediately that x had to be MUCH bigger than it should, which indeed the math bears out: x(1249) = 0.19(3651) - 0.074(1211) - 0.047(1211) x(1249) = 694 - 90 - 57 x = 547/1249 = 0.438 0.438(100) = 43.8%

That 694 is because the authors rounded 18.8 to 19 earlier, not because I can't math. So, due to rounding, you get slightly different answers -- but BOTH of them point to something SERIOUSLY WRONG with the reporting. What is actually going on in that middle tertile? Where do these numbers come from? Well, lucky us, they mention the name of an author, a journal, and a date. Always be wary of pop sci articles that don't give you a way to track down the original, but giving you that way to track things down doesn't mean they aren't still doing a crummy job with their reporting, as we see here.

The original paper is Association of Bone Mineral Density and Dementia: The Rotterdam Study, published March 2023 in Neurology. This is a pretty technical article with a fair amount of math and things in parens etc. etc. and tables and lots of measurements. The table captions are often not the greatest, which makes it a bit harder to read and interpret. For example, in Table 1, items are listed as number(number) and this can be any of:

count (percent) -- this one's usually labeled in the table itself

mean (standard deviation)

median (interquartile range) -- these last two are NOT labeled in the table, so we don't know which set of numbers is which.

Great. Thanks guys. Assuming what's called a "normal distribution" mean (SD) and median (IQR) numbers will be similar, but they're not the same and I'm irritated they're conflated but OK. Soldiering on!

The original study looked at several different measures of bone density, and found only ONE of them to show predictive ability for dementia: the density of the femoral neck. This means that for their article, Eating Well should have looked at the results for femoral neck bone density, which we find in Table 2:

You have the actual numbers for 5 years, 10 years, and study end, as well as the hazard risk (HR) for each bone density tertile, with the highest tertile set as the standard. Numbers in the HR column have 1 as a reference point -- lower than 1 is lower risk than the highest tertile, and higher than 1 is higher risk.

The first thing I noticed is that neither 57 nor 90 occur in the femoral neck section at ALL. Those numbers from the Eating Well article are just not there. I also notice that the other numbers don't align even one little bit -- the number of total cases of dementia is different, for example. I do notice that the column with the 10 year followup has numbers in it close to 57 and 90 (49, 67, 86, totaled to 202) and that the overall numbers for the total study are much higher -- 201, 236, 229. Interesting.

At this point, I just straight-up search the paper for "90", and I find it in Table 2....in the total bone density section, which the paper's authors have said is NOT the section that showed possible predictive results. I search for "57", and also find that in total bone density, and also....wow the EW author straight up failed to read. This is actually worse than I thought.

Read across, these are the 5 year followup numbers (first 2 columns - count and HR), 10 year (middle 2 columns), and total followup numbers (last 2 columns).

We see our friends 57 and 90 in the 10 year columns. 90 is, as described in the EW article, in the lowest bone density tertile, but 57 is NOT in the highest bone density tertile. It's in the middle tertile. The actual number for the highest tertile is 68. Additionally, the total cases for 10 years is nowhere near that 688 number -- it's 215. We only get total case numbers close to 688 when we look at the study end numbers: it's 686, in this particular group. If we look at the study end case numbers for highest, middle, and lowest tertiles, we see WHY this particular measure can't be used to predict anything: they are 227 (highest), 227 (middle), and 232 (lowest) -- not significantly different from each other.

We can also see here that this group of people -- people who had total bone density measurements -- is not 3651, but 3633, which is listed across the bottom row. The overall STUDY had 3651, but not all of them had total bone density recorded.

Now we know that the author of the EW article did all of the following:

read the wrong part of Table 2

mixed up middle and high tertile results

reported 10 year results mixed with total followup results (this resulted in the weird math that alerted me something was very very wrong in the first place).

and the person who was supposed to review the article didn't have even the basic math skills to catch the problem -- which she absolutely should have, as a registered dietician. For giggles, I looked up program requirements for a BS in Dietetics. Programs require things like statistics and precalc -- not math heavy, but the math that alerted me to this problem is VERY basic statistical knowledge, like the kind they teach in 6th grade level statistics, which I know because it was literally in my 6th grader's curriculum this past school year. So a registered dietician DEFINITELY had enough math to catch this problem, and should have, and Eating Well should be ashamed of itself.

SO. What can we learn from this?

Well, science communication is a skill set. Some people have worked very hard to develop that skill set and are excellent at it -- but lots of people do not have it, and even those who do can make mistakes. Many, many pop sci articles are not written by trained science communicators, or people with any education in how to read scientific articles, or people with good reading comprehension, even. It's very common for pop sci articles to have these sorts of errors in them. Therefore:

Always read pop sci articles with a skeptical eye. Ask yourself:

Do these numbers line up? Usually the math in pop sci articles is not very complex -- you can often do some basic arithmetic to make sure it even makes sense, as was the case here.

Does one part of the article seem to contradict another part of the article?

Do I feel confused about what exactly I'm being told? What's not clear about it?

Am I being told about HOW something works or WHY it works or both? Are those two things being conflated somehow?

Is there a link or way to find the original research? If not, my advice is to throw the whole article away. If yes, you can go check it out -- often just looking at the abstract or results section will be enough, and abstracts usually aren't paywalled even if the rest of the article is. You would be surprised how many times the abstract says "we found X" and the pop sci article says "the researchers found Y".

Could I explain this article to someone and have it make sense? If not, why not?

Is the article confusing correlation (these things happen together) with causation (one of these things causes the other)?

Pop sci articles, like other journalistic articles, are extremely subject to bias issues from the publication they're in. A lot of people tend to read pop sci articles as neutral, factual reporting, but they aren't! I mentioned EW's biases earlier -- the one I think is most relevant to how their article is written is a pervasive belief that if you just eat the right things in the right amounts you will be thin and healthy and stave off all kinds of problems. They close their article by mentioning that, although the study's authors are clear that this connection is unlikely to be causative, and that risk factors for low bone density and dementia have substantial overlap, readers should act like it might be causitive with diet and exercise choices that promote bone health. They were so excited to get to their point about fixing your diet that they didn't pay attention to the actual science they were reporting on. (Sidenote: actual scientific journal articles are supposed to be neutral, factual reporting. They also aren't actually that, but there are some measures in place around this to try to prevent the worst effects of bias.)

It's worth brushing up some basic math skills. You don't need to know a lot! Very basic information will help you better understand a lot of articles -- both ones that are accurate and well-written, and ones that are shoddy and should not have been published. I really like Larry Gonick's The Cartoon Guide to Statistics but if your grasp of percentages is shaky, it will be too advanced. A good option might be something like The I Hate Mathematics! Book, which is pretty old but really accessible, but there's probably some newer great ones out there that I just don't know about.

#science #pop sci #reading comprehension #how dare you say we piss on the poor #math #statistics #eating well #bad science communication #neurology #dementia #bone density

[dante-mightdie]

so, in the cult au, what does laswell do? does she also have a sweet wife that welcomes her home every day with a hot meal? has anyone in the cult ever disrespected her because of her sexuality? i’d love to hear your thoughts :3

laswell my love <3

c/w: mentions of loss, cult!au, mentions of bigotry but none actually occurs

i’m torn on what I want kate’s role in the cult to be. part of me wants to make her price’s contact on the outside. I imagine at some point john came onto the feds radar, making them wonder what actually happens behind those gates, why so many people have gone missing near those woods yet they can never find any real evidence. every once in a while they show up with some bullshit warrant and rip his compound apart, even going as far to trash his home whilst he comforts his crying wife :( shaking his head disapprovingly at them for making a pregnant woman upset. they never find anything

she uses her position in the CIA to give john warnings when they plan on raiding his community. she knows it’s technically wrong but she knows johns community isn’t a threat to anyone really. she knows if he’s left alone, he won’t bother anyone and she has bigger things to worry about in her line of work

OR

she’s actually a part of his community, perhaps she even runs the cult alongside him. they worked together for years, broken down by all the hate in the world. no matter where they stomped it out in one place because it always popped up in another so they just decided to create a sanctuary on earth away from everyone else

john and kate have no room for hate within their community, they have a strict screening process for anyone joining their family. kate and his wife are very well known and well loved in their community, in fact her wife can often be found contributing to the community in anyway she can

they have their own little family of rugrats too :( taking in the few children who had unfortunately lost their parents in some way or another

#mw2 #cod mw2 #cult!au #cultleader!price #kate laswell #laswell

[lo-toh-takes]

It's funny how while arguing why Hunter is so popular just for being white (and not for being a certain character archetype), Lily uses the argument that in other animations white characters are always the most popular and shows amphibia (yknow the show where the most popular character is Marcy).

Not only that, but look at she-ra. Catra (another character archetype popular among fandom) is way more popular than white and blonde Adora (and Lily knows this show!).

It's just weird...why Lily was so insistent on this argument.

It’s because that Hunter is a popular character that Lily insists on creating completely bullshit narratives about. She’s incapable of handling others’ opinions so she’ll create narratives to demonize the people who disagree with her.

She does all of this to paint a narrative about Hunter and his fans that falls apart once you actually watch the show. This is also done so Lily can sound “progressive” by talking about fandom racism, painting the TOH fandom as filled with racist assholes when that isn’t true in the slightest. Her narrative is based on nothing but lies about Hunter as a character and his stans.

She makes these things up so she can craft narratives that make her look like some kind of hero and anyone else as deranged and unreasonable. And she carries this condescending attitude she always has when talking about this.

She’s only doing this so she can justify bitching about people who like a character she doesn’t, she doesn’t care about fandom racism, cuz when there’s an actual honest to god example of racism within the fandom based on how people used to treat Camila, Lily never actually talks about it, she only relegates it to text on a screen because she’s more busy with bitching about the white boy than talking about racism.

She’s using racism to sound more progressive and professional in all of this. And she’s breading the most toxic and obnoxious side of the TOH community with all of this.

#the owl house #toh #toh hunter #lily orchard #asks

[tedbecca]

sunflowers was not my favourite TL episode. it had some really good moments and other moments i was like eeehhhhh about. but overall i did enjoy it and i look forward to seeing where the characters go from here

#much to think about tbh #didn’t love and don’t buy that rebecca would get drunk and stay over on some random man’s boathouse in a diff country #with no way to communicate with anyone she knows #but i suppose i can suspend my belief. bc i do like the overall arc she went through that ep #loooooved jamie/roy (for the most part. i have some pet peeves re: roy’s anger) #the team having a pillow fight 🥹 colin and trent 🥹 #ted only really wanting to spend the night with rebecca mmmhmmmm i see u #but also loved his overall arc too. revisiting america in a way through the restaurant #him sitting down and trying to figure out a new strategy for the team. when his heart hasn’t really been in it lately #like yessss out of the dark forest we go thanks #anyway these are all half baked thoughts and i dooo want to rewatch bc i know i missed stuff #also very interested to see where keeley’s storyline goes #i don’t actually love that they pulled her out of the building this season #like idk if her new office is really working for me #but i am interested by how many times she has (unintentionally) left rebecca hanging ever since jack started coming around

[trainingdummyrabbit]

team The Narrative's Favorites (Derogatory)

#No idonot know th logistics of how a postcanon woudl work for them but canoncompliance be damned im being SILLY #iwill talk asthough it makes sense anyway. (<- hasnt explained shit) #pikocs #pikart #projmoon #it takes cocoa a while to become functional again after everything; shes just gotta take her time. she acts a lot drier then. #she has had ENOUGH no more bullshit from anyone. ok 👍 #last one holds importance bc wolfe is Verrrry flighty with touch on her hands and arms; its smthn she wants to work against But .. #old habits die hard even if youre tenacious yknow. being able to help in that way helps recontextualize it though- makes it easier. #not pictured: mags frantically trying to cover for two antisocial weirdos with No communication skills whatsoever #(<- one day ill design them 'casual' outfits....... that day isnt today . yip)