#{ Let me know if this doesn't work or if you need anything changed! }

[h66nki]

just the tip ⋆. 𐙚 ̊ step!bro park sunghoon.

your stepbrother comes back from his tour after months and you let him fuck you, just with the tip. warnings; stepcest, unprotected sex, kinda angst?

sunghoon can't deny it... he knows he hasn't been present in your life at all these past few months, and even if he really wants to deny it, it wouldn't be right.

the brief, dry messages he sent you while he was away weren't enough, not even a little. he wasn't a good brother, he wasn't a good man to you, and he's so, so sorry that he doesn't know how to make it up to you.

"princess, look at me," he asks, his voice breaking.

sunghoon is nestled between your legs, caressing your face and collarbones, awaiting your reactions.

since he came home, you haven't even bothered to greet him with more than a chaste kiss on the cheek. you haven't chatted with him, you haven't run into his arms like you used to... you haven't even taken the time to look at the gifts he brought you.

material things weren't and never would be a consolation for you. you wanted him, his affection, his attention. you wanted him to love you like before, when he'd sneak into your room and fuck you until you were dumb and whining; when he would finally hold you and shower you with kisses and caresses.

you didn't want a damn gift. none of the expensive material things he brought would serve as consolation to erase how alone and abandoned you felt.

"baby, look at me..." he asks again, curling his lip in a small pout. he didn't like you being so distant. not when he missed you so much, not when he needed you so much.

you look at him, defeated.

"im really sorry, i mean it." you nod, not entirely convinced.

it's just work, you console yourself in your head. it's not that your stepbrother didn't love you anymore, he was just busy.

his eyes look at you with love, with longing. you can't hold your shell, your shield any longer. you collapse, and sunghoon puts you back together, as usual.

"we're okay," you sigh, finally hugging him. it's been so long since you last saw him that you can tell the muscles in his back have changed, grown.

"you can't imagine how much i missed you," he murmurs sincerely, pressing himself against you. "i was going crazy."

"it was the same for me," you confess.

your stepbrother pouts again, and your heart clenches. you don't like that he's sad, especially not for you. you tilt your head and kiss him softly, letting him know everything you can't express out loud.

the man kisses you, just as tenderly. his hands go to your waist, caressing you until you tremble on his lips.

"you look so beautiful," he emphasizes, sincere. your hair is longer, your features look more delicate.

he kisses you again, deeper this time. your legs open out of inertia, pressing your crotch against his. you rub against him because god, you've missed him so much.

he's no slouch either. his cock is hard and uncomfortable inside his pants and he uses the friction to ease some of his discomfort.

"god, baby. you're going to kill me." he murmurs against your lips. you make him feel dizzy, weak.

you need him, but still a small part of you is aching, hurting.

"let me fuck you," he begs, kissing your neck. his tongue runs down the length and his lips leave wet kisses there. he can't mark you, he can't leave you hickeys. if he did, your parents would know. they can't find out; he can't allow them to take his princess away from him. the bruises on your skin always have to be where no one but the two of you can see them. never on your neck.

you ignore his request, rubbing yourself even harder against him. your underwear feels uncomfortable, too wet and sticking to you.

"you don't deserve that."

your words hit him hard, waking him from his reverie. he pulls away from your neck, his lips swollen and red.

"i know... i know i don't deserve anything, but i really need it."

you moisten your lips and look up at him. he's going to have to work hard to reward you, you both know that.

"just the tip," he proposes, looking at you desperately. if he has to beg for it, he'll do it, without a doubt. "come on, baby, just the tip... nothing more. i promise i won't try anything. just my tip in your pussy."

you nod, giving him permission to remove your pants and panties. the fabric of your underwear is so sticky that sunghoon has to force himself not to kneel and eat your pussy out for fear of going too far and making you regret this.

he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down a bit, as well as his boxers. he's so hard that you feel sorry for him; you've rarely seen him as needy as he is now.

"open up for me..." he asks, his voice breaking. your legs part a little further, allowing him to enter.

his hands take his cock and he uses it to rub it against your folds, moistening it until it's full of your juices. sunghoon knows what drives you crazy; his dripping head hits your clit a few times, playing with you.

"don't tease," you say breathlessly.

your stepbrother laughs and finally aligns his head with your hole, barely penetrating you. "heavenly," he praises. "i missed being in this cunt. always so wet for me..."

sunghoon finds your lips and steals a messy kiss. his hips barely move, fucking you with just the tip, like he promised. "you're so tight," he murmurs. "you haven't let anyone fuck you, do you?"

"no..." you moan, feeling one of his fingers slip out to rub your clit. "since you left..." you try to put together a coherent sentence.

he understands, smiling at you.

"good princess," he praises you, placing a kiss on your nose, his hips still moving. "only i can fuck this hole... im the only allowed to, even if it's just with the tip."

m sorry if there are grammatical errors, i have to sleep NOW. tomorrow they will be corrected. xoxo :*

[ghostlyferrettarot]

ᯓ★🎧✮⋆🎸Pick a Picture: ♡₊˚🐈‍⬛ྀི♪⋆.✮ How to step into your most iconic energy? ♡₊🐈‍⬛ྀི♪⋆.✮

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

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≽^•༚•🎀≼Masterlist≽^•༚•🎀≼ ≽^•༚•🎀≼Masterlist 2≽^•༚•🎀≼

🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮Pile 1: Hi pile 1! You know, your style is a powerful way to express yourself to the world, and if I've learned anything, it's that there's nothing more attractive than authenticity pile 1. But I feel like many don't get it. The key here is to focus on what makes you feel powerful, comfortable, and completely yourself. Maybe you've gone through times where you thought you had to follow the rules of "good taste" or the latest trend to fit in, but the real magic begins when you start letting go of those expectations and allow yourself to dress for yourself, not for others. Have you noticed how there's something incredibly attractive about people who wear their style with confidence? That doesn't come from following the rules, but from finding what makes you shine. And I don't just mean clothes, but how you wear them, how you stand, how you move. It's that energy you project when you feel good about yourself. So start experimenting. If you have those pieces that make you feel amazing, wear them without hesitation! Don't worry if you think they're too bold or different. If they make you feel confident and radiant, then they're the right thing to do. If your heart beats faster in a specific piece, that's the sign. Personal style isn't just an outfit choice; it's a way to assert your confidence and power. It's like a constant reminder that you're taking control of your life. People can tell when someone feels powerful, and that's what makes your style truly "iconic." It doesn't have to be perfect or conform to what's in fashion; all you need is to be true to yourself. So start dressing from the heart, not from external expectations, and you'll see how the world responds to that unique energy you radiate.

🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮Pile 2: Hi Pile 2! FIRST OF ALL, how do you feel about yourself? Beyond what you see in the mirror, beyond the things you might like to change. Do you really feel good about yourself? Because the glow-up that matters most isn't just the one you see on the surface, but the one that comes from within, the one that makes you feel more at peace, more connected, more you. The glow-up starts in your heart, in your mind, in the way you speak to yourself every day. If you want to shine, you need to heal, because when you do, the light that comes out of you is not only reflected on your face, but in everything you do. I know it can be difficult at times. Maybe you've carried insecurities or doubts for a long time, but I promise you that the path to the inner glow-up isn't a destination, it's a journey. It's starting to do things for yourself that make you feel good, that nourish you. It might mean meditating, reading, surrounding yourself with supportive people, exercising, or simply taking some time to listen to your body and what it truly needs. The important thing here is that it's not about achieving an "ideal" version of yourself, but rather embracing who you are right now and working on being the best version of yourself, without external pressure. It's about accepting that you don't have to be perfect, but you can be a better version of yourself every day. And that internal work, those small decisions to take care of your mind, body, and soul, are what will truly make you shine. It may sound cliché, but self-esteem doesn't come overnight. It's a process. It's about giving yourself permission to make mistakes, to rest, to be human. And it's also about knowing that, although challenges and insecurities exist, you always have the ability to move forward, to reinvent yourself, and to rediscover yourself. Remember that a glow-up isn't just physical; it's something that comes from within, a vibration that is generated when you are aligned with yourself. And when you begin to connect with your true essence, you not only feel more radiant, but you also feel more at peace. That inner peace is what truly makes everything else fall into place: your style, your attitude, your relationships. Don't rush. Don't compare yourself to others. Every day is a new opportunity to choose yourself, to invest in yourself, to begin healing from within. You deserve to shine, so give yourself the chance to do so!

🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮Pile 3: Hi pile 3! You know that no matter how much you change on the outside, or how many new outfits you wear, if your attitude isn't aligned with that powerful energy you want to project, everything else feels a little empty. Attitude is what truly makes you iconic. And believe me, it has nothing to do with being arrogant or putting on a fake front. It's about having confidence in yourself, walking with confidence, and showing the world that you're ready for whatever comes. But here's the trick: it's not something you achieve overnight. An iconic attitude is built over time, through small daily decisions and moments when you choose to be strong, even if your heart trembles. It's normal to sometimes doubt yourself, to feel afraid, but true attitude lies in how you get up after each fall, how you face challenges with a smile, and how you keep going without letting difficulties define you. What an icon you pile 3, love your energy. You may not always feel like you're ready to take the world by storm, and that's okay. It's not about being in a constant state of "superpower." Iconic attitude has a lot to do with being able to stay calm when everything seems chaotic, staying true to yourself even when circumstances change. It's that inner stillness that allows you to respond gracefully to whatever comes your way, rather than reacting impulsively. Remember, being iconic doesn't mean being perfect, it doesn't mean being invincible, it means being true to yourself no matter what others think. Because when you are authentic and genuine, when you are unafraid to show your true self, that is the spark that makes your attitude shine. It's not about being "the best," it's about being the most authentic version of yourself. So, if you ever feel insecure or wonder if you have what it takes, remember: your attitude is all you need. Act with confidence, with grace, and with a heart full of courage. When you align with that inner energy, everything else begins to fall into place. I believe in you pile 3 :).

🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮Thank you for reading and let me know if it resonated!🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮

[bidisasterevankinard]

Should i stay? (Spec for 8x17)

Buck never before bought groceries for 118 without Bobby, without his list at the very least. He does it today. Weeks after Bobby is … dead. Weeks after they all were going on take outs on shifts.

It’s time to get the tradition back. It’s time to get real food back. Time to hoor Bobby's idea about good food for his team and family dinners back.

Choosing between two cauliflowers, Buck doesn’t react to his name being called till, “firefighter Buckley, are you ignoring me?”

The voice it's too familiar, but being lost on trying to get the freshest veg, Buck can’t place it. Till he turns.

“Instructor Grayson?”

The man smiles, patting his shoulder.

“Look at it, still remember me.”

“My legs still ache once in a while after all the r-running we did with you,” Buck jokes, putting both cauliflowers in his basket.

“And I heard you are a good firefighter, even have a medal. Tell me my training is not the reason.”

Chuckling, Buck has to agree. Grayson was strict and hard on them, but prepared them well.

“Yeah, that’s true. But let’s talk about you. I heard you left the academy.”

“Yes. Finally felt good after trauma physically and emotionally and got back to my house a year after you left. Got a promotion as a captain of 147 two months ago.” 

Buck wolf whistles. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Grasyon nods with a smile, “I have an offer. I have a lot of young firefighters in my house, and no one with your experience in rescues. Definitely no one with yout records,” Buck frowns and Grayson gives him his card, “think about moving my house. I have a place open. Do you have the same number?” Buck nods, feeling lost.  “Cool! I’ll call you in two days. If you decide to move, we can start the process.”

Still looking at the card, and trying to understand what is going on, Buck blinks, but before he can say anything the man is already gone.

“I don’t want to leave the 118,” he whispers, but hears the question in his own words. 

He doesn't, right? 118 is his home? It is where he is supposed to be. Right?

-

“That is not the family or a home for anyone, son. It’s the firehouse,” Gerrars says and goes away.

Buck stays alone. Looking around the station he knows like his five fingers. Maybe it’s his time to go? Find a new place? New team? A lot of people don’t stay in one place for long. Tommy, Lucy, other people he worked with for the last years. A lot of them changed stations or shifts. It’s normal.

Maybe his time with 118 is going to an end too. 

Without Bobby it doesn’t feel the same, and really it’s hard to be here.

Taking Grayson's card, Buck looks at it, biting his lip.

Before he can take his phone, the siren goes off and he runs to turn it off.

Maybe it’s one of his latest calls in 118.

-

“Evan,” Tommy nods to him, when Gerarrd pairs them together for a delta zone.

“Tommy,” he nods back, feeling like all his breath is taken yet again by this man. Why can’t he finally move on?

-

“Evan? Are you ok?”

“Y-yeah,” Buck nods, checking to make sure Tommy can’t see his bruised rib. He doesn’t need the man to talk about possible internal bleeding. “Are you?”

“Concussion and sprained wrist, but yeah.”

Good, that's good. Tommy should survive it.

Who knew it’s actually his last call with 118? Not buck. But the hole in his side doesn’t feel good, but he quickly stop touching it till Tommy turns back to him.

[pip-see]

More tbhx drabbles, woah I'm on a role

Soul Glowing Flower

“What was he like?” Lin Ling blurts out and Moon stops her swinging for only a second, looking at him with a questioning face before resuming.

“Who? Nice?”

Lin Ling swallows then remembers who he's talking to and immediately, kinda regrets asking such a personal question after just meeting Moon. But Lin Ling thinks he knows her better than he didn't before. But the question still seems insensible and he feels bad as soon as the question leaves his mouth.

“A-h you know what nevermind. It's fine. I– didn't–”

Moon cuts him off before he can finish. “No, it's fine. You're curious. I don't blame you.” She laughs somewhat bitterly. “I was curious about him too.”

His eyes fly back towards her, he didn't even notice that they had been down casted but he looks at her shocked mouth agape.

Moon snorts at him. “Yeah, my exact reaction once I got to know him.”

She stops swinging, pulls her knees to her chest and hurdles them together. She seems small, he can't help but think. Small and caged.

He wished she could be free and quickly his mind thinks, if this is how Nice felt too. Trapped and caged.

“He was–” Moon scoffs. “ I almost said Nice.He was nice though. At first. He always had a smile on his face. It was gentle, warm and something else I didn't quite figure out until you told me he killed himself.”

Lin Ling sees Nice’s face before he jumps. It happened in a second. Nice had a fake jovial smile on his lips, his signature pose ready and then he jumped and changed Lin Ling’s life in the same second.

“Lifeless.” He supplies.

Moon nodded.

“Yeah.” She shot him a look that had him go stiff at the spot. “You saw it too?”

“I did…before he jumped.”

He expects some sort of response. But he doesn't get one, what he does get is a glinting gold necklace thrown his way. He catches it easily.

“You can keep it. He gave it to me when we first ‘got together.’ It was a way to plead the media at the time.” Her finger quotes make Lin Ling squirm. It was easy to forget sometimes that her and Nice's relationship wasn't real. The perfect couple. Not perfect, and not even a couple

He tightens his grip on the gold chain letting the coolness of it stay on his palm, “I can't accept this…”

“No, I want you to have it not as something Nice gave me but a gift from me to Lin Ling. As a way to remember to be yourself. You are not Nice, I hope you remember that." She got off her swing, shook her shoulders and took a breath, then turned to the camera. “ Now I'm going to take a shower and we're going to figure out a way out. She can't keep us here forever.”

Lin Ling nodded, half heartedly paying attention. His gaze was in the necklace attached to the chain was a gold circle, engraved on it was a flower. He knew very little about flowers; he knew roses and tulips meant love, spider lilies represent death and that like all living things: They need food and water.

He traced the outline with this finger. He really didn't figure out anything about Nice. Well that's a lie. Nice was somewhat a lie, he figured out that much. That and Lin Ling was going to be himself. Forever long that was.

He put the necklace on. He was Lin Ling.

( the flower was a dandelion which symbolizes new beginnings. Also when I get my AO3 account I should be posting more tbhx stuff I have Lin Ling/ Wreck fic in the works and a nicest fic to)

[easytiger-xo]

Fire Trap

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader ❤︎

✦18+ (MDNI)✦

summary: Dean finally tells Sam what their father said to him before he died. Sam doesn't take it well—and takes off. With nowhere else to turn, Dean shows up on your doorstep. One thing leads to another, and Dean's world comes crashing down. Again.

cw: emotional distress/panic, fire-related trauma (implied), PTSD themes/aftermath, hurt/comfort, near-death experience, some angst, explicit sexual content, shower sex, soft dom!dean, unprotected p in v. (srry if i missed anything.)

wordcount: 4,344

✦ a/n: This story takes place during S2 E10, 'Haunted'. Obviously changed some things to make it work. Took a lot of inspiration from an episode of Burn Notice, where Michael thinks that Fiona is killed in a fire trap and it leads to him finally letting her in. I just needed that with Dean. I hope you enjoy! ❤︎

Now. “I said no. Just wait for me, okay?” Dean’s voice rang out over the phone—firm, protective, already laced with frustration.

“I can handle it. Looks vacant. Just a quick in and out.” You heard the sharp inhale, the beginning of another protest, but you didn’t let him finish.

You hung up.

Four days ago.

You weren’t expecting him.

It was nearly midnight when headlights swept across your window, followed by a knock—two short, one heavy. His knock. You opened the door, heart thudding, and there he stood: jaw tight, eyes glassy with something heavier than exhaustion.

You didn’t say a word. Just stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him like it would keep everything chasing him at bay. You hadn’t seen Dean in months. Not since he ended things with you.

Said he loved you—always would—but that it wasn’t the right time. You didn’t press him. You never did. Because you’d always understood Dean Winchester better than he wanted to be understood. And that terrified him more than anything else. So you let him go. Even though it left a bruise that never quite healed.

You knew the reason he pulled away without him having to explain. John had died. Dean was carrying the grief like a loaded shotgun, and he didn’t want it going off in your direction. He didn’t trust the version of himself that came out when he was hurting.

You missed him. But you didn’t resent him. He still called sometimes. Usually late at night. Case questions. Lore trivia. Sometimes he just wanted to hear someone who remembered who he was before all the weight. You gave him what you could. But it was never personal. Not anymore.

Until now.

He sat on your couch like the ground had finally given way beneath him, talking more than he had in years. Told you what John said about Sam before he died. Told you how badly he messed up trying to protect him. Told you how Sam took off—furious, betrayed—and didn’t look back.

“The kid jacked a car and ran off into the night,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. It just feels like…” His voice cracked. And in that second, he looked younger. Lost. Like he was nineteen again and the whole world had fallen apart in front of him. You reached over and rested a hand on his knee. “I’ll help you find him.”

He looked down at your hand but didn’t pull away. He just let the silence settle around you.

Then his phone rang. Ellen. She’d seen Sam. He was headed to Lafayette, Indiana. Dean didn’t wait. He grabbed his keys. You grabbed your coat. And when the Impala roared to life, you were in the passenger seat—where you’d always belonged.

The two of you pull up outside the only motel in town—one of those faded, roadside places that hasn’t been updated since the '80s. The Impala idles beneath you. Through the open curtains of one of the ground-floor rooms, Dean spots him.

“There’s Sam,” he mutters, leaning forward against the wheel. Then his eyes narrow. “And... huh.”

You follow his gaze. A woman.

Dean’s mouth tugs into a crooked, boyish grin—the kind that’s always been your undoing. “Sam, you sly dog.”

You laugh under your breath. “Kid’s been on the run less than a week and already shacked up.”

Dean chuckles, then shifts back into gear. “Alright, let’s park outta sight and get a room. Wait this out.”

The motel room smells faintly of mildew and old cigarettes, but you’ve both stayed in worse. Dean paces back and forth, boots thudding softly against the worn carpet. “Dean, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.” You glance down, then smirk. “Actually, keep going. That might be an improvement.”

He doesn’t bite. Doesn’t even crack a smile. You try again. “Y’know, if Sam’s getting lucky, no reason we can’t…” You raise your brows, a playful lilt in your voice. It’s half a joke. Maybe only a quarter.

Dean pauses mid-step and looks at you, unamused. Stone-faced. You sigh and throw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. Okay. I’m gonna go grab a couple sandwiches from that shop across the street. You still like pie, right?” You don’t wait for an answer. The door clicks shut behind you before he can say a word.

The air outside is cold enough to bite. You pull your jacket tighter around you as you walk, trying to shake off the sting in your chest. He’s still not ready. Didn’t bring you here for that, even if part of you wishes that’s what this trip was. You sigh and try not to read too much into it. It’s not about you. It never really has been.

The bell above the shop door jingles as you step inside. Turkey for you. Ham for him. And cherry pie—of course. You toss in a six-pack for good measure. Something to fill the silence, if nothing else.

You’re balancing the bags as you cross the street when you spot her. The woman from Sam’s room. She’s walking away quickly, coat half-zipped, keys in hand. You pick up your pace to catch up.

Back at the room, you fumble trying not to drop everything. You’re just about to twist the doorknob when it swings open from the inside. “’Bout time,” you say, grinning.

Dean chuckles, stepping aside. “Sorry. Bathroom.” You walk in and set the bags on the desk. “Hey, I saw that girl leaving Sam’s room. He’s still in there. You want backup?”

Dean shakes his head. “No. I got it. Brother stuff.” He reaches out and takes your hand for a second. Just a second. “Thanks.” You know what he means. Not just for the food. For being here. For staying. For not pushing. You smile and nod. “Go get him.”

Dean had every intention of tearing into his little brother the second he saw him. He was ready to yell, to demand an explanation, to tell Sam just how worried sick he’d been. He knocked hard on the motel room door. A few seconds later, it creaked open. Sam stood there, clearly not expecting to see him.

“Dean?” he blinked. “Look, I know what you’re gonna say—” He held up a hand, a half-hearted peace offering.

Dean pushed past it. “No, I don’t think you do, Sam.” There was anger in his voice. Not just frustration—real anger. The kind that came from fear.

“Just—just hear me out, okay?” Before Dean could fire back, Sam started talking. Fast. Desperate to get it all out. He explained why he was there. The woman—Ava. How she’d tracked him down, said he was in danger. How she told him about a dream she’d had. One that sounded way too familiar.

A house. 5637 Monroe Street. Fire. Death.

Dean’s jaw tightened as he listened. His brain was already moving, processing the pieces. When Sam finally stopped, Dean exhaled. “Alright. Let’s go check this place out.”

Sam blinked. “Really? You’re not gonna—?”

“What?” Dean cut in. “I’m still pissed, but I get it. You need to figure this out. We’ll do it together.” What he didn’t say: the guilt was eating him alive. John’s last words, the burden of carrying that secret, letting it fester for so long—he didn’t need one more wedge between them.

“I’m gonna grab Y/N and we can—”

“Y/N is with you?” Sam interrupted, brows lifting in surprise.

Dean stopped mid-step. “Yeah, Sam. You left me high and dry, remember?” His voice was sharper than intended.

“Right. Okay.” Sam nodded, grabbing his gun from the desk, tucking it away, and following Dean out.

They stepped into the motel room to find it empty. The bags of food were untouched, still sitting on the desk. A faint chill hung in the air—quiet. Dean’s stomach dropped.

He reached for his phone, dialing your number without hesitation. It rang twice before you picked up. “Where are you?” he asked, already sensing the answer.

You were standing outside a weather-worn house, the address etched into the crooked mailbox: 5637 Monroe Street. Paint peeled from the siding. The air smelled like dust and something old.

“Oh, uh… I didn’t tell you,” you replied, a little too casually. “I talked to that girl—Ava—before she left. She told me what was going on, gave me the address. Thought I’d check it out while you were, y’know, dealing with brother stuff.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair. “I’m on my way with Sam. Do not go in there, okay?” There was a tightness in his voice now. But you were used to that—Dean always worried about you. Always would.

“I’m just gonna take a look around,” you said, balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear as you cocked your gun.

“I said no. Just wait for me, okay?” Dean’s voice rang out over the phone—firm, protective, already laced with frustration.

“I can handle it. Looks vacant. Just a quick in and out.” You heard the sharp inhale, the beginning of another protest, but you didn’t let him finish.

You hung up.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, flipping his phone shut with a snap.

He spun on his heel and strode toward the Impala, jaw clenched. Sam didn’t say a word. He just followed.

You approach the house with trained caution. This isn’t your first rodeo. You keep low, quiet, circling around until you find a broken window that hasn’t been boarded up. It groans as you slide through, landing softly inside. The place is silent, but not dead. It feels off—air too still, shadows too sharp. Someone’s been here recently.

Your senses are on high alert, scanning everything. Your eyes catch it just in time—a tripwire strung low across the floor.

Close one.

You step over it carefully, heart thudding. What you don’t see is the pressure plate beneath a scrap of old rug. You feel it the second your boot presses down.

Click. A hiss. Then the walls erupt.

Flames roar to life like they’ve been waiting for you. Gas-fed, fast, angry. You stumble back, instinct taking over, but the fire’s already crawling up the walls, licking the ceiling. Smoke fills the room in seconds. You spin, searching for an exit. You're trapped. Your lungs tighten, panic flooding your veins. You press your back to the wall as the heat surges closer.

By the time Dean pulls up, the house is a blazing inferno. He doesn’t even turn the engine off.

“NO! NO! NO!”

He’s out of the car in a heartbeat, sprinting toward the fire. Sam grabs him around the chest, holding on with everything he has. “Dean! You can’t!”

Dean thrashes, fury and fear making him wild. “LET GO, SAM!”

“Dean, there’s no way—no one could survive that!”

Dean’s voice breaks, full of something raw and desperate. “Y/N!” he screams your name again and again like it’ll bring you back. His voice rips through the night, hoarse and ragged.

Sirens wail in the distance—firetrucks.

“Dean, we have to go. Now!” Sam’s dragging him, fighting him every step of the way. Dean doesn’t stop struggling until they’re back at the car. He tears the door open, peels out, tires screaming against the pavement. He’s already calling your number. Straight to voicemail.

“Hi, you’ve reached me. Leave a message.”

“Son of a bitch!” He ends the call and dials again.

“Hi, you’ve reached me—”

Again.

“Hi—”

And again.

Every time your voice plays, it cuts deeper.

They drive up and down the stretch of road near the fire, Dean scanning every shadow, every ditch, every side street. “You got out,” he mutters. “You had to.” His grip on the wheel is white-knuckled, the phone trembling in his hand. “This can’t be happening, Sam.”

Sam watches him, heart heavy. He’s never seen Dean like this. Not even when they lost their dad. Not even when he was dying. Sam wants to say, ‘I’m sure she’s okay’, but he doesn’t.

Because what if you’re not?

Hours pass.

Rain starts to fall, soft at first, then harder. Visibility drops, and they’re forced to head back. Dean drives in silence, jaw locked, eyes dead ahead. He pulls into the motel lot, throws the Impala into park, kills the engine. The rain drums against the roof like a ticking clock. Sam opens his mouth. “Dean, I’m—”

“Don’t.” Dean’s voice is low. Icy. He steps out into the rain, the phone already to his ear again. He dials. Again. Again.

“Hi, you’ve reached me...”

He stands at the door to the room, water soaking through his jacket, pooling at his feet. He doesn’t open it right away. Just stands there, hand on the knob, staring. Terrified of what won’t be waiting for him on the other side. Finally, he breathes in deep—and steps inside.

“Hey, that you?”

Your voice cuts through the room like a thunderclap.

Dean stops cold.

He turns toward the bathroom in stunned silence as you step out, barefoot, wrapped in a worn motel robe, towel-drying your hair. You’re annoyed, totally unaware of the storm you’ve just walked into.

“Mean-ass lady at the front desk wouldn’t let me use her phone, and this dump doesn’t have any in the rooms...” you mutter, shaking your head. “That place was freaking booby-trapped, Dean. I barely got out. Dropped my damn phone jumping out a window. Whoever set that up—serious operator. Not your average monster-of-the-week.”

You keep rambling, still scrunching your damp hair in the towel, not noticing the way Dean hasn’t moved. Not noticing the way his chest is rising like he can’t catch his breath.

“I smelled like a roasted pig,” you laugh softly, tossing the towel toward the bathroom. It lands in a heap on the floor. “Had to shower or I was gonna start—Dean?”

You finally stop talking. His name leaves your lips gently, and it shatters him.

He drops his phone. It clatters to the carpet, forgotten.

In two strides, he’s in front of you. You lift your eyes and what you see stops your heart—raw emotion burning through him like gasoline on fire, and you would know. His hand rises, trembling slightly as he cups your cheek. His thumb brushes against your skin like he’s testing whether you’re flesh or a ghost.

“You didn’t think,—” you begin to whisper. Your voice is soft. Slowly understanding. But he silences you with his touch.

And then he’s kissing you.

No warning. No hesitation. Just need.

His mouth crashes into yours, all heat and desperation that makes your knees weak. His arm wraps around your waist like he’s terrified you’ll vanish if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

It’s not soft. It’s not slow. This is a man who thought he lost you—who's still shaking from the idea of living in a world without you.

You kiss him back with equal fire, fingers digging into the back of his neck, pulling him closer. You’ve missed this. Missed him. 

He tugs at the belt of your robe, hands rough and urgent. The fabric parts easily, slipping off your shoulders and pooling at your feet. Dean steps back just a breath, eyes sweeping over you like he’s trying to memorize every inch of skin again.

“Jesus,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “You’re really here.”

You reach up, pull his mouth back to yours. “I’m here,” you murmur into the kiss. “Not going anywhere.”

He peels off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thump. His hands find your waist, lifting you like you weigh nothing. You gasp as your back meets the cool wall, his body pressed hard against yours.

There’s nothing gentle in the way he touches you now. It’s all adrenaline and relief, love buried in every hurried movement. His lips leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hands everywhere at once—gripping your thighs, cupping your face, running over your ribs like he needs to feel your heartbeat to believe you’re alive.

You thread your fingers through his hair, gasping his name, tugging him closer. He grinds against you, groaning low in his throat.

“I thought I lost you,” he breathes against your skin. “I thought—I couldn’t—”

You cut him off with another kiss, slower this time, but no less full of fire. “You didn’t. I’m here. I’m right here, baby.”

He lifts you away from the wall, carrying you to the bed without breaking contact.

He lays you back on the mattress like he’s staking a claim—like you’re his last breath and he’s not about to waste it. The old springs groan beneath the weight of you both, but the sound is lost in the firestorm between you. 

Everything is heat, tension, the crackling charge that started building the moment he saw you step out from the bathroom.

You’re already reaching for him, tearing at his belt with shaking fingers. He meets your urgency, unbuckling it like it insulted him, then shoves his jeans and boxers down in one swift, brutal motion. His shirt clings to him, soaked through and molding to every hard-cut muscle, but he rips it off and throws it across the room like it’s in the way. Like everything is in the way.

Your eyes rake over him—freckles and scars scattered across his chest, sweat glistening in the dip of his collarbone, that perfect cock already thick, hard, and leaking for you.

“Fuck, Dean…” you breathe, lips parted, pupils blown wide.

He doesn’t give you time to linger. His hands grip your thighs and he drags you closer to him, the rough pull stealing the air from your lungs. A low, primal sound rumbles in his chest, and he stares down at you like he might devour you.

“Thinking you were in that house,” he says, voice low and cracked. “You don’t know what that did to me.”

You reach for him, legs wrapping around his waist like instinct. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper. “I'm here, I'm okay.” you reassure him again.

And that’s all it takes. He strokes himself once, twice, then presses the thick head of his cock to your entrance. There’s no teasing. No slow slide. Just need. He thrusts into you in one deep, devastating push—stretching you wide, filling you completely, until your back arches off the bed and his name punches out of your throat.

“Oh fuck—Dean!”

He curses under his breath, fingers digging into your hips like he’s anchoring himself. “Jesus, baby—I almost forgot how perfect you feel.”

He pulls back and drives into you again, setting a rhythm that’s all force and fire. The bed rocks beneath you, old springs squealing under every relentless thrust. It’s not careful. It’s not clean. It’s everything he’s been holding back—the fear, the guilt, the ache—hammered into you with every sharp, punishing snap of his hips.

You meet him thrust for thrust, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs, your hands fisting the sheets. He’s everywhere—on your skin, in your lungs. His hand curls around yours, fingers entwined, grounding himself in the fact that you’re alive, here, under him, with him.

“Harder,” you beg, voice breaking. “God, Dean—I need it. I need you.”

Your words detonate something in him.

He groans—raw, low, feral—and flips you, pulling you to your knees in a blur of motion. He plunges into you from behind, deeper now, rougher. The angle hits something sharp and bright inside you, and the moan that tears from your throat sounds wrecked.

His chest presses to your back for a moment, his breath hot on your neck. Then his arm wraps around your middle and pulls you upright, your spine arching as he holds you to him. One hand slides up your stomach, cups your breast, fingers rolling your nipple until your legs threaten to give out. The other snakes down between your thighs and finds your clit—circling tight, fast, merciless.

You’re gasping, trembling, so close it hurts. “I missed you,” you choke out, head falling back on his shoulder. “So much—needed you.”

“I know, baby,” he pants into your skin, his voice a ragged whisper. “I know. I’ve got you now.”

He fucks up into you harder, his pace brutal, fingers moving in time with each deep thrust. Your walls clench around him as the pressure builds, blinding and unstoppable. “Come for me,” he growls against your ear. “Remind me how it feels when you fall apart for me.”

And you do. You fall to pieces around him, a scream ripping from your throat as your orgasm tears through you like wildfire. Your whole body locks, trembling, shaking. He holds you through it, hips stuttering before he buries himself deep one last time, groaning your name as he spills into you, hot and thick and so much.

You collapse forward onto the bed with him still inside you, both of you trembling, slick with sweat and shaking breaths. His body covers yours, anchoring you both to the moment. His lips brush your shoulder, soft and reverent. Again. And again.

The room has gone quiet now, save for the soft rasp of Dean’s breathing. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. Just clings to you like a lifeline. You run your fingers through his hair, slow and soothing, your other hand tracing soft lines down his spine. No words—just quiet comfort. A balm for the ache you know he’s still carrying in his chest.

After a long stretch of silence, he finally shifts, just enough to look at you. His face is raw, open in a way he almost never lets himself be.

“When I pulled up and saw the place burning,” he says, voice gravel-soft and cracked at the edges, “I thought… I thought that was it. I thought I was too late.”

Your heart twists, and you cradle his cheek in your palm, letting him speak.

“There wasn’t a sign of you. Just smoke and flames. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. I kept playing it over in my head—what if you’d screamed for me and I wasn’t there to hear it?”

“Dean—”

“I don’t ever wanna feel that again,” he whispers, a tremble threading through his words. “I swear to God, if I ever lose you like that—really lose you—I won’t come back from it.”

You pull him into your arms, wrapping yourself around him like armor. “You didn’t lose me,” you say, fierce and quiet. “I’m here. I got out. I’m safe. With you.”

He lets himself be held. You feel the way his body slowly starts to unwind against you, all that coiled panic bleeding out with every breath. It takes time, but eventually his head finds its place tucked against your chest, and his breathing evens. You stroke his hair until the tension fades from his muscles, until his weight grows heavier, and you realize he’s drifted off—finally, safely—against you. You stay like that for a while, your fingers ghosting over his bare back, memorizing the feel of him in sleep. 

You slip out of bed when the first faint light of morning begins to warm the sky outside the cracked blinds. The bathroom is quiet. Steam curls around you as you step into the shower, eyes closing under the gentle cascade of water. You tilt your face up, letting it wash away the sweat, the ache, the lingering adrenaline. Just breathing. Just being.

You don’t hear him come in. But you feel him.

Strong arms slide around your waist, warm and steady. His chest presses to your back, skin to skin, and you exhale softly as his mouth finds the slope of your shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you murmur, eyes still closed.

He kisses just below your ear. “You didn’t.”

His hands move slowly over your body, reverent, unhurried. There’s no rush in the way he touches you now—just the quiet ache of love rediscovered. He turns you in his arms, your wet skin slipping against his as you face him.

His eyes lock with yours, and whatever he’s feeling—whatever’s left unspoken—he says with that look. With the way his fingers brush your cheek, the way his lips find yours, soft and aching.

He kisses you like he needs it to live.

You melt into it, letting him guide you gently back against the cool tile. His body presses to yours, his hands skimming the sides of your waist before sliding down to the curve of your hips. He lifts one of your thighs, anchoring it around his waist, and when he slides into you this time, it’s slow—achingly slow.

You gasp into his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders. He’s deep and thick and perfect, and he fills you like he’s trying to carve himself into your soul. His forehead rests against yours, the rhythm of his thrusts gentle but steady, a slow roll of pleasure that builds in quiet, tender waves.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod, breath catching, fingers threading through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. “I know. I love you too.”

He rocks into you, again and again, his hands cradling your body like you’re precious—fragile and holy. Your moans echo softly in the fogged bathroom, mixing with the hum of the water, the slide of wet skin on skin.

It’s not just sex. It’s worship. A thank-you. A promise.

And when you come, it’s with a soft cry into his mouth, your whole body trembling against him. He follows seconds later, arms tightening around you as he groans your name, his hips stuttering as he pours everything he has into you.

You stay wrapped around each other long after, letting the water cool and the world slow down. His lips never leave your skin for long—tracing your cheek, your jaw, your shoulder.

“Next time,” you murmur, brushing his wet hair back from his forehead, “don’t wait ‘til after a near-death experience to come back to me.”

Dean smiles faintly and kisses your collarbone. “Deal. But I'm not going anywhere.”

credit & links:

⟡ gif & pics from pinterest, edited by me. ⟡ dividers by easytiger-xo.

[glowettee]

Hi! I hope your day is going great. your blog is so pretty and your posts are really inspiring. I was wondering if you have any good book suggestions? 📚

thank you so much for your sweet message! i'm literally so happy you find my blog inspiring! book recommendations are one of my favorite things to share, so here are some reads that have totally changed my life, organized by category just for you:

✧ fiction ✧

• "normal people" by sally rooney (the way she writes relationships is sooo real)

• "the seven husbands of evelyn hugo" by taylor jenkins reid (glamour + heartbreak!)

• "little fires everywhere" by celeste ng (family drama at its finest)

• "circe" by madeline miller (mythology but make it feminist)

• "the midnight library" by matt haig (perfect for when you're feeling lost)

✧ fantasy fiction ✧

(i mostly read fiction, more so fantasy fiction, i'm such a huge fan of this genre)

• "the night circus" by erin morgenstern (magical + romantic in the best way)

• "a darker shade of magic" by v.e. schwab (parallel londons? yes please!)

• "uprooted" by naomi novik (dark fairy tale vibes that i'm obsessed with)

• "the invisible life of addie larue" by v.e. schwab (immortality with a twist)

• "ninth house" by leigh bardugo (dark academia meets magic at yale)

• "the starless sea" by erin morgenstern (underground library dreams)

• "piranesi" by susanna clarke (strange + beautiful + haunting)

✧ self-help + personal growth ✧

• "atomic habits" by james clear (literally changed how i build routines)

• "burnout" by emily + amelia nagoski (for when you're feeling overwhelmed)

• "the mountain is you" by brianna wiest (healing your self-sabotage!)

• "untamed" by glennon doyle (finding your inner voice)

• "buy yourself the f*cking lilies" by tara schuster (self-care that actually works)

✧ poetry + essays ✧

• "milk and honey" by rupi kaur (for your soft girl feelings)

• "the princess saves herself in this one" by amanda lovelace

• "trick mirror" by jia tolentino (essays that make you think)

• "salt" by nayyirah waheed (short poems that hit deep)

• "what kind of woman" by kate baer (feminine power on every page)

✧ academia + productivity ✧

• "deep work" by cal newport (how i get through finals week tbh)

• "make it stick" by peter c. brown (revolutionized my study methods)

• "digital minimalism" by cal newport (for when social media is too much)

• "how to do nothing" by jenny odell (because sometimes we need to just breathe)

• "grit" by angela duckworth (staying motivated when things get hard)

✧ cozy + comfort reads ✧

• anything by taylor jenkins reid (her characters feel like friends)

• "such a fun age" by kiley reid (so readable yet thought-provoking)

• "beach read" by emily henry (romance that doesn't feel cringey)

• "the house in the cerulean sea" by tj klune (like a warm hug in book form)

• "the secret history" by donna tartt (dark academia vibes)

hope these suggestions bring you as much joy as they've brought me! let me know if you read any of them, i'd love to hear your thoughts! just a little note: my favorite genres to read are fantasy, mystery and romance, and historical fiction as well, but i do try to broaden my genre-range, so this was a long list of books i've read in different genres, hopefully you can find some you'd like. <333

xoxo, mindy 🤍

[theloveoffootball10]

sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ - ʙᴏɴᴜs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

series masterlist / complete masterlist

ʙᴏɴᴜs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

"Lando!" I shout from the bedroom hearing Lando in the kitchen "Lando!"

"What!" As Lando comes into the bedroom he takes one look at me sat on the floor and the confusion is instantly on his face "what the fuck are you doing on the floor?"

"I sat down to fold clothes and got stuck. Help me up please" holding my hands out I let Lando pull me to my feet "the floor seemed like the best place to fold clothes"

"Why at 8 months pregnant did you think sitting on the floor would be a good idea? You should be resting before the flight later" falling pregnant was a complete surprise to not only Lando but me as well.

Of course we've had conversations about having kids and we both knew we wanted to wait a few years but the universe had different plans for us. You could say we took celebrating Lando's birthday and WDC win too far but now we're so close to having our baby in our arms I wouldn't change a thing.

Today we're flying from Monaco back to England for the British Grand Prix, he never asked me to officially move in it just happened now most of my time is spent in Monaco. This weekend marks two years since we met and the whole time has been nothing short of a whirlwind. I debated not going to the race being so heavily pregnant but ultimately I want to be there and after being cleared fit to fly by a doctor I refuse to miss out.

"It made sense when I started okay? I don't need to rest, I'm pregnant not ill. I have everything packed and I've got an emergency hospital bag just in case baby decides to come this weekend"

"How do you feel about everyone finding out this weekend?" As Lando pulls me into his arms I look up at him fiddling with the necklace around his neck.

"I'm excited now it's here and also very proud of us for keeping this out of the press for this long. Especially you, we both know you can't keep your mouth shut" when we found out I was pregnant we told our family and friends, not so much a need to know basis but more of who we wanted to tell however to this day we haven't made a public post telling Lando's fans and the world. Finding out during winter break meant it was easy to keep out of the public eye and since the start of the season I've missed a lot of races due to work but when I have been at them, I've lay low.

"You have no idea how many times I've nearly slipped up when I've been interviewed or on stream with Max"

"I've noticed. A lot" I know Lando is desperate to scream the news from the rooftops but he's respected my decision. It's not that I've gone to extremes to hide but I have enjoyed being able to have this time with Lando to enjoy being pregnant privately.

"I'm excited Lucía, I just can't wait to be a dad to our baby. Knowing that he's half of you and half of me is the best feeling"

"Let's be honest he's going to mainly be you because I already know he's going to look like you"

"So he'll be cute just like his dad"

"Keep telling yourself that babe"

"We really need to agree on a name for him" for months now Lando and I have argued over baby's name. There's literally nothing we can both agree on. I didn't realise just how hard it would be to name a baby. It's such a big responsibility when they'll have the name for life.

"Can we please not have that argument now. It's such a big decision, I think we'll have to decide when he's here and look at him to see what name suits him"

"I understand you wanting his surname to be Norris Alonso and I’m all for it but he really needs a name I hate calling him just baby or him all of the time"

"We'll get there Lando. I'd rather just have him here safely over anything" We've already ruled out any name that is directly linked to anyone on the grid and anything that is utterly ridiculous. We can't even decide whether baby should have a middle name; Lando has grown up without one so doesn't see the need for four names where as I've grown up with four names so to me it's completely normal. The one thing we can agree on is following the Spanish tradition of baby having both mine and Lando's surname, I know he'll go by Norris for most of his life but I like knowing Alonso will still be there.

"That goes without saying baby. Do you want to go for food before we fly?" My face lights up at the thought of food. This baby has got me eating anything and everything I'm not surprised I'm so huge. I've always loved my food but my appetite from the day I fell pregnant has been astronomical.

I watch as Lando grabs our bags, not letting me get anything other than my handbag so we can make our way to the car. If being pregnant has done one thing, it's made me fall in love with Lando even more. He's always been amazing but seeing him prepare for this new chapter in our lives has shown me a completely different side to him. He's more loving and attentive than he's ever been, witnessing the way he's been with me over the course of my pregnancy I know he's going to be an amazing dad.

The next morning I wake up sweating, England is unnaturally warm and my pregnant self isn't coping at all. Dragging myself to sit up in bed I'm at the point where I have to do everything in stages. I can already tell today is going to be a good day, tough but good.

"You okay baby?" Looking up at Lando as he walks out of the bathroom I can't believe this man is mine.

"Yeah I'll be good in a minute. He's squashing my bladder I'm sure I've peed myself but he's sitting on my sciatic nerve again" for the last few weeks baby keeps positioning himself on a nerve leaving me in pain every time he does. I've never felt pain in my lower back or leg like it and if this just a taste of what's to come in labour I don't think I want to do it.

"I can help you into the shower to see if that helps"

"Give me a minute and I will. I need to just build up the courage to stand up" resting my hand on my bump I'll miss it when he's here but I'm just about done with being pregnant now "I love how you ignore the fact I've just said I think I've peed myself"

"It's not the first time" Lando says with a shrug as he starts getting dressed "and it's not like you can help it. You've got a baby either kicking or sitting on your bladder"

"You're amazing" pulling myself off the bed I make my way over to Lando standing behind him as I wrap my arms around his torso "I love you y'know"

"I love you too" as Lando turns in my arms I feel him place a soft kiss on my forehead "how do you feel now today's here?"

"I can't wait. I'm excited to walk through the paddock flaunting this massive bump with you by side" this baby may have been a surprise but from the moment we met, I knew Lando would be the only one I'd want to have a baby with.

"I guess it's one way to prove to everyone that Lando No-Rizz has actually got rizz"

"Don't ever say that again or you'll be single forever" I say with a laugh "I'm going to shower. Love you Lando"

As we arrive at the track the crowds are insane as always even for a media day. I know Lando is about to create a full on tornado, it's not unusual for me to be here or arriving with him but he hasn't warned anyone that I'm going to be arriving 8 months pregnant or that we're about to announce it to the world. Sophie's going to kill him and probably me but the man is stubborn. When he wants to do something his way and he's set on it, there's no changing his mind. When it comes to racing or sponsors he's a bit more flexible but when it comes to his personal life, his decision is final.

"Are you ready for this?" I love how Lando is always checking on me. It can get too much sometimes but I know it's only because he cares.

"Absolutely. It was nice knowing you though Norris"

"What do you mean?" Lando asks looking at me confused.

"You haven't warned your PR team about this. Sophie is going to kill you and probably me then Chelsea will join in as well"

"I like to keep things interesting"

"I noticed" rolling my eyes I hand Lando his phone "this is your time to shine, go for it" we agreed that Lando would share a post on instagram when we arrive at the track just before we get out of the car to face the media. This way his fans at home get to see the post from him rather than all of the media outlets.

"There's no going back now" as Lando clicks post I almost feel nervous even though I have no reason to. This is our lives and no matter what opinion people may have, it's irrelevant. We're happy. Our families are happy. Our friends are happy for us. We couldn't ask for more "I love you baby"

"I love you too" leaning over I kiss Lando softly knowing between us our phones are going crazy with notifications but I'm not really bothered by that, I have my fiancé by my side that's all I need "let's do this"

landonorris and esmelucia

Liked by flonorris, maxfewtrell, mclaren and 3.4m others

landonorris SURPRISE! we’ve been keeping a little secret 🤫 Baby Boy Norris Alonso coming very soon 👣 🩵

view all comments

user846 sobbing rn 😭

user977 you can tell he loves them both so much!

-> user205 the dream is to find someone who loves me as much as Lando loves Lucía!

fernandoalonso abuelo can’t wait to meet him

-> esmelucia te amo papá

user357 why Norris Alonso and not just Norris? Seems disrespectful to Lando

-> user825 she’s half Spanish, it’s tradition for baby to have mum and dads surname. Not disrespectful at all and Lando must have agreed 🤷🏼‍♀️

-> user296 baby is going to have one of the most iconic surnames ever!

livdavies Rafe can’t wait to meet his best friend!

-> landonorris double trouble! Pray for us all!

user185 Lando and Lucía having a baby wasn’t on my 2026 bingo card!

-> esmelucia it’s alright it wasn’t on our bingo card either 😅

Stepping out of the car I instantly hear the mumbling within the crowd. The news is travelling fast and we're met with a chorus of gasps, oh my gods thrown around and I'm positive I hear a few squeals of joy from some of the fans. It's comforting to know people are actually happy for us. Standing by Lando's side as he signs autographs for the waiting crowd I'm pulled into a few conversations congratulating us, people saying how happy they are for us and how exciting the next couple of months are going to be. I don't doubt that as we make our way to McLaren's hospitality where we're met with both Sophie and Chelsea.

"You two are a PR nightmare! A quick text with a warning would've been nice Norris!" Despite Sophie trying to act like she's annoyed I can see the smile creeping onto her face.

"Surprise?" Lando questions with a shrug.

"Never mind surprise! If it wasn't such good news to share I'd throttle the pair of you! I think you just like to make my job harder, even more so when you're together!" I know we probably should've told someone about the bomb we were about to drop but I can't help laugh.

"Sorry Soph I shouldn't laugh but your face is a picture. I wouldn't stress though, the media have the details they need to know. I'm not planning on going into full detail about my due date or anything like that. We all know baby is due at the beginning of summer break which is impeccable timing from us by the way but the media don't need to know any of that. I just hope he doesn't come the weekend of Hungary" I'm happy to share somethings with the world but the finer details I want to keep to myself.

"What's your thoughts on the media asking questions? It's going to be the main thing they want ask about today and I need to know where you stand. If you don't want to answer anything further we tell them to not even bring it up"

"Lando knows what I'm happy for them to know, we're okay with them asking some questions"

"Anything we don't want public I'll just say no comment" for someone who's so confident the thought of telling the world any kind of detail about my pregnancy terrified me at first, however Lando has made me feel so at ease despite us both having no idea what we've let ourselves in for.

A short while later Lando is ready for his first interviews of the day, I'm not involved in any of the interviews I wouldn't want to be but I've chosen to be here so I can hear what is said directly before any media outlets get the chance to alter Lando's words. I'm grateful one of Lando's first interviews is with Crofty, we've both known him for many years and I know he's never going to be there to judge us.

"Before we get started I just want to congratulate you both. You've both been around the paddock long enough for me to know that you're both good people and this couldn't be happening to two nicer people"

"Thank you, that means a lot" although I've been around Formula One for most of my life, I've never realised how many people have paid an interest in my life not just since I got with Lando but before that as well.

As the interview begins I can't help but smile at Lando smiling. Since we found out we are going to be parents he's smiled more, something I didn't think possible. When we'd spoken about kids I wanted to wait a few years but I think deep down Lando wanted kids sooner, especially since he watched Max become a dad and how much he's loved every moment since Rafe was born.

"Do you mind if I ask how Lucía told you she's pregnant? Did you expect it?" As Crofty asks the question both Lando and I burst out laughing.

"It wasn't all cute and sweet as you'd expect but it was a complete surprise for both of us. I told her to fuck off about five times because I thought she was winding me up. When I realised she was being serious I called her a knob only because she'd roped me into some couples challenge where I had to lift her off the ground and spin her round. Apparently she had to find an excuse to film something to get my reaction"

The day I told Lando about being pregnant is a day I'll never forget. I wanted to find a way to film his reaction without it being suspicious and after spending most of the morning scrolling tiktok that's when I got the idea to persuade him to try a couples challenge. Thankfully he agreed after a few eye rolls but it worked out perfectly. His reaction was exactly what I would have expected from either one of us.

Slowly making our way back to McLaren's hospitality after the interview we get stopped by so many people offering their congratulations. It's insane to me how much attention turns to you with the slightest announcement especially when a few people around the paddock already knew. Grabbing a decaf iced latte I find myself a seat outside in the sun where I'm joined by Lando and Chelsea.

"I can't breathe" letting out a deep breath I try to get my breath back.

"Are you okay baby?" Lando asks his voice laced with its usual concern.

"No your child is rearranging all of my internal organs one by one but I'll be fine. I'll be even better when he's here" I know Lando worries no matter how many times I tell him this is normal especially for someone 36 weeks pregnant.

"How does it feel knowing you're going to have a little human of your own in a matter of weeks?" Chelsea asks, she's one person I don't mind sharing details with.

"Fucking terrifying" I admit. I've told Lando multiple times that I'm nervous however that doesn't take away my excitement "I know we look after Rafe sometimes but it's completely different knowing this baby is a combination of us two and we can't just give him back when things get tough. We're going to be responsible for a whole human"

"You're going to be the best mum to him. He's going to be a mummy's boy and he's going to be obsessed with you just as much as I am" feeling Lando kiss me on the top of my head I lean into his touch. Every time I start to get nervous, he knows how to ease my fears "I have to go and do some filming but come and get me if you need anything" watching Lando rush off to where he needs to be late as always I smile at how attentive he is.

"He really is obsessed with you and it's only going to be worse once baby is here. I thought after you first met things would fizzle out and the two of you would clash being so similar but you're actually perfect for each other" looking at Chelsea I think about what she's saying. So many people thought me and Lando wouldn't last purely because of how we got together and the odds were probably stacked against us but I couldn't imagine my life without him. He's my voice of reason.

"I couldn't cope without him Chels. Don't get me wrong we do clash and argue but he keeps me sane and he keeps me calm. I think I met him at a perfect time" now I'm with Lando I couldn't ever imagine being with anyone else. I couldn't imagine starting a family with anyone else.

"You'll be pleased to know the fans are loving the announcement. I've seen a few comment how real you are for wearing crocs and walking around with your jeans open"

"Crocs are about the only things my feet fit into right now and the jeans are open because I've ate far too much and felt like I was being cut in two. They were a bad idea on my part however if I wanted them to know how real I am I'd tell them my body suit is also open because Lando wasn't around to fasten the poppers for me"

"Only you, Lucía" Chelsea says with a laugh "I need to get back to your dad but if you need anything like Lando said, come and find one of us"

The full weekend goes by in the blink of an eye. Lando has dominated all weekend and gets a clean sweep giving him back to back wins at Silverstone. Something I know means so much to him and as his fiancé I could not be prouder if I tried. Our visit to the UK is a flying one and before I know it we're back in Monaco. 

"Come here baby" Lando says as he opens his arms to me "you're exhausted aren't you" 

"Yeah I am" I don't even try to argue with Lando, the travel and back to back events of the weekend have completely taken it out of me "I have so much to do as well, I don't have time to be exhausted" 

"Don't worry about anything. We'll get sorted" 

"Lando you've sprung a house move on me and you're not even going to be here when we get the keys. We have a whole apartment to pack up and I don't start my maternity leave for nearly two weeks" In his wisdom, Lando decided we needed somewhere bigger for the three of us to live and now we don't get the keys for two weeks when I'll be 38 weeks pregnant and Lando will be getting ready to leave for Spa. 

"Baby don't stress. The apartment is practically move in ready"

"I am stressed though! You'll be in Hungary on my due date and Spa the week before. I'm so scared you're not going to be here and I'll have to do this on my own" Thinking about the next few weeks overwhelms me. There is so much going on and I don't know where to begin but the fact I’m not in complete control is what stresses me out the most. 

"Lu, you're never going to be on your own. Would I like to win back to back championships? Absolutely but the second there is anything happening with you or our baby that is all forgotten about. If I'm in Spa or Hungary I'll drop everything to come home to you, I've told McLaren I need a jet on stand by at all times. This is the reason we have a reserve driver. There is no one more important than you and our baby boy. I'm not missing his birth for anyone" 

"I'm not doubting that you'd be there, I know you'd come home for us the second I need you. I think I'm just scared now I know how close it is to our lives changing forever. We're never just going to be Lucía and Lando again" once this baby is here I know, regardless of what happens Lando and I are tied together for life. It's never going to just be us two again, we have a whole new purpose in life.  

"It is scary and it's a massive change for both of us but we have each other baby. If we have each other we can get through anything. You're still going to be you, no one especially me will see you as just a mum"

"I know you're right I just think I'm getting into my own head"

"It's been a long couple of days. Why don't we go to bed and tomorrow I'll handle some of the packing while you work? Let me take as much stress off you as I can"

"That's the best thing you've ever said to me. I can't believe how lucky I got with you" there's just something about Lando, no matter how stressed I am, he always know how to deal with me. I know every single day that I'm lucky to have Lando. My relationship with him was unexpected, I never would have planned to go to a race weekend with the intention of finding a boyfriend but I truly believe everything happens for a reason.

The next couple of weeks pass in a blur, I'm finally finished work for my maternity leave and the apartment move is in full swing. After the race in Spa, Lando made sure to come home the same night especially knowing my due date is so close and left it as late as he could before he left for Hungary. It's now Sunday after Lando has just won in Hungary and I know he'll be home soon. McLaren have stuck to their word and had a jet waiting for him to come home with today being my due date however this baby is showing no sign of moving any time soon.

While I wait for Lando to get home, I've made a start on baby's room. I know the apartment was move in ready but this is the one room I want to make changes to. In the time Lando has been away I've turned my hand to DIY and decided to paint the bedroom, I always thought nesting was a myth until it’s happened to me. I know baby won't be in this room for a long time but I still want him to have his own space. I was going to leave it until Lando got home after I built baby's pram but I'm itching to get everything done as soon as possible.

"Lucía I'm home" hearing Lando walk through the door I feel a relief I wasn't expecting. He's home for summer break and he's going to be here when baby is born.

"I'm in here!" Shouting to let Lando know where I am, I put the paint brush down.

"What the fuck are you doing up there! Are you insane! You're nine months pregnant Lucía!" Lando practically screams in panic when he realises I'm standing on a ladder, probably not my smartest idea but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"I'm okay babe don't panic. I just couldn't settle until I got this room finished" walking towards Lando I wrap my arms around him the best I can with a bump in between us "congratulations on your win Lando. I'm so proud of you" kissing Lando I feel like I can truly enjoy the lead up to our baby's birth now he's home for just over three weeks.

"Thank you. It would have been better to have you there but it feels good knowing the next one I'll have a son to race for. The car feels so good this season"

"He'll be supporting his daddy every single race and it won't be long until he's in the back of the garage cheering you on" I already know this baby will be making his appearance at a race sooner rather than later, Lando doesn't know it yet but my plan is to try and go to Monza before the long haul races begin again later in the season but I want to keep it as a surprise.

"I can't wait until you're both there and he's wearing his LN4 merch but right now I need you to put the paint away because I want to take you for dinner to celebrate my win with the love of my life"

"It's late Lan, can we just order food in? I will put the paint away now you're home though" all I have to do in the bedroom now is decorate with accessories once the cot is in place. Lando has already said he wants to build the cot and I'm not going to stop him, however I know he's useless at painting which is one of the main reason why I did it while he's been away.

"If we're still celebrating I'm happy to order in. I'm not going to drag you out into the streets of Monaco if you want to stay home"

"I'm always going to celebrate you however my feet are so swollen and I can barely walk without being out of breath. That is a sight no one wants to see walking around Monaco" if Lando really wants to go out I'll go but at the minute the only thing I am close to comfortable is crocs and massively oversized t-shirts. I went through a stage of only wearing Lando's t-shirts however I'm too big for that now so I had to buy new ones.

"We can stay home, I want you to be comfortable over everything. I know how hard it's been these last few weeks but you've been mega" over the last few weeks I think Lando has realised and appreciated what I've put my body through. I can't complain about being pregnant, I've had it plain sailing until I've got towards the end but I'm really feeling how much it's taking its toll now.

Over the next few days Lando helps me get the nursery finished between midwife appointments to find out what's happening. Now I'm overdue there's talk of my labour being induced, something I'm on board with because I want Lando to get as much time as possible with baby before he has to leave for the Dutch Grand Prix. In our final appointment it's decided that I'll be taken into hospital Thursday with the aim of baby being born the Thursday or Friday at the latest. I'm happy with the decision and it means Lando will have the best part of three weeks with us.

As Thursday arrives along with my mum and Lando's parent my nerves are through the roof. Today is the day my life is going to change forever. Right now we're sat around waiting for the green light to go into hospital however after ringing them a couple of times throughout the day my time keeps being pushed back due to them being busy. The longer I wait, the more on edge I become.

"Do you think I could just turn up at hospital?" I ask my mum wondering what the hospital would do considering I've waited all day from 7am for the go ahead.

"Probably not they'd just send you home until they're ready for you especially with you not being in labour. Why don't you try and get some sleep?"

"I can't sleep mum I'm too nervous" I know Lando is also feeling the nerves which is why I sent him out with his dad for a while. I know he won't tell me how he's feeling to stop me worrying but I know he'll open up to his dad, something I know he needs.

"Lucía you need all the energy you can get, at least go and lie on the bed and rest until the hospital phone" I can't argue with my mum even now as an adult about to have her own baby so I make my way to the bedroom leaving my mum and Cisca to talk about their grandson, a first for them both.

Eventually I get the call I've waited all day for, the hospital want me to go in at midnight. It seems crazy to me that they want me to go at that time but I'm not going to turn them down. Once Lando and I arrive at hospital we're shown to a room where we're told we'll meet our midwife who will be looking after us.

"Can you believe this is happening?" Lando asks and I can see he's starting to get nervous despite trying to stay positive for me.

"Not at all. I've been scared this whole pregnancy about giving birth and the thought of it makes me feel sick" I've never hid how scared I am of actually having to push a baby out of my body and now it's here that fear is the worst it's ever been.

"I'm going to be by your side every step of the way baby. You're not doing this alone. You're going to have me here the whole time I'm not going anywhere and your mum will be here once you're in labour" there was never a question about Lando being by my side, however I decided I also want my mum to be here as well. I can only have two birthing partner or I would have also liked Cisca to be here as well but she's holding the fort at home.

As the night drags on I try to get as much sleep as I can while Lando tries to sleep in the chair next to my bed but being in hospital I only manage to sleep in short bursts at a time. After what feels like a lifetime, I finally get introduced to a midwife nearly seven hours after I first arrived. She talks Lando and I through the process of what is going to happen to induce labour and what options I have for pain medication. I already know I want it all, I want this experience to be as pain free as it can be.

Before this was happening to me I had no idea how painfully slow it would be for labour to start and it feels like it has taken an eternity for anything to progress however now it has I'm feeling pain like I've never felt before. Rocking on the birthing ball I can see the distress on Lando's face knowing he can't do anything for me other than try to offer words of comfort.

"You're doing amazing baby. How's the pain now?"

"I'm so tired Lan" the doctor has just given me a dose of diamorphine for the pain but now I feel like I'm slurring my words. They did warn it could slow down labour and make me feel more tired but I didn't think I'd feel this tired.

"I know the doctor said to stay on the ball if you can but why don't you try and sleep? You've barely slept since yesterday and you look like you’re about to pass out any minute" I know Lando is right and I need all the energy I can get to push this baby out so I let him help me into bed.

"Thank you for being here" holding Lando's hand I quickly fall into a deep sleep and know nothing until I wake up completely dazed to a room full of what looks like doctors with panicked looks on their faces "what's happening?"

"It's nothing to worry about Lucía we're just doing a check on baby" I hear someone tell me. I have no idea what time it is or anything, I have no sense of what is going on but I see Lando stood with my mum also looking worried.

"Lando what's happening?" I ask Lando because I know he'll be honest with me, I find doctors sometimes try to sugarcoat things but I need the truth.

"Baby's heart rate is a little bit low but they think you're ready to push"

"Is he going to be okay?"

"He will be. He's made of strong stuff like his mummy" dosing back off to sleep I don't take in the seriousness of what is being said but my mum is still calm and if she is calm I know things can't be that bad.

The rest of my labour is a complete blur. I register the midwife telling me I can push however due to the amount of pain relief I've been given I don't remember much of actually pushing. Before I know it I'm being handed a screaming baby and I burst into tears as my baby boy is placed on my chest for the first time.

"You did it baby. I'm so proud of you" as Lando kisses me I realise he has tears streaming down his face.

"I couldn't have done it without you. I love you so much Lando"

"I love you too my girl. I am in complete awe of what you have just done" as Lando looks down at our baby I can't believe we've created this little human "he's absolutely perfect"

"He really is. Our perfect little boy"

"Congratulations you two. I'm so unbelievably proud of you both" my mum says hugging me and Lando as she tries to stop her tears "I have the most perfect grandson in the world. I take back everything I ever said about being too young to be a nana"

"You'll be the best nana to him mum" as a nurse takes our baby to clean him up I look at Lando in complete shock "oh my god we're actually parents"

"We are and I can't wait for us to do this together" as Lando kisses me again I wipe his tears before telling the nurse to hand our baby to him. From the day I found out I was pregnant this is what I've waited for the most. The moment I get to see Lando holding our baby in his arms.

"Lucía we're having a problem with your placenta delivering. Are you okay if we get on of the doctors to try and pull it out while another tries to push it from your stomach?" A nurse asks me and I have no idea what this means. I know my placenta needs to come out but I had no idea there could be an issue with that.

"Yeah do what you need to do" I agree with the nurse but little did I know it would be the most painful thing I've ever experienced. I feel everything that is happening and the tears roll down my face in pain.

"You need to stop you're hurting her" hearing Lando trying to stop the doctors I realise how bad this must be for him.

"Lando calm down. They need to do it or she'll end up seriously poorly" as my mum tries to calm Lando, I scream at the doctors to stop. The pain is unbearable.

"I can't do it. That hurts too much" crying in pain I know I can't go on. I don't know what my options are but there has to be something else the doctors can try.

"We can stop Lucía but you're losing a lot of blood. The only other thing we can do is take you into surgery" I don't really know what I'm agreeing to I feel so out of it but I realise I'm being taken out of the delivery room and moved into an operating theatre.

Stirring in bed I realise the lights are dimmed but I have no idea where I am. I can see Lando at my bedside holding our newborn close to his chest and my mum is sat at the other side of the room looking more stressed than I've ever seen her before.

"Hi baby how you feeling?" Lando asks when he realises I'm awake.

"Like I've been hit with a truck. What time is it?" It looks dark outside so I must have been out a while.

"Just after 9pm. Do you want to hold him?"

"Yeah please" nodding as Lando hands me our baby I look at him in awe, he's absolutely perfect "the last I remember it was around 4pm"

"I'm not surprised, you've had a tough time of it Luc. You had us worried for a moment"

"What happened?" I have no clue what has happened to me in the last few hours.

"You ended up losing a litre and a half of blood so they took you into surgery to remove all of your placenta because it wouldn't come out. They've had to give you a blood transfusion but they said you should make a full recovery" as my mum explains what has gone on I realise how serious the situation was "I'll go and phone your dad so he knows your awake. He's beside himself with worry" as my mum leaves Lando and I alone I try to let it sink in. 

“I’m sorry I worried you” I can see in Lando’s face just how stressed he’s been, that’s one thing about him; no matter what his face gives him away especially his eyes.

“Don’t you dare apologise. This wasn’t your fault I’m just relieved you’re going to be okay. I was so scared I was going to lose you”

“I’m not going anywhere other than home with my two boys” after the day we’ve have I want nothing more than to get home to my own bed. You’d think by now they’d learn to make hospital beds more comfortable than they are.

“They think you’ll be able to leave tomorrow they just need to do blood tests first”

“It can’t come quick enough. Have you thought about any names for him while I’ve been out cold?” I know we’ve been putting this off but now I have my baby in my arms I know we need to come to a decision about his name.

“I have actually. I’ve looked through loads of names and I quite like Rubén and there’s a Spanish spelling so we’re not ignoring your roots but if you hate it we can look again”

“Rubén” looking down at our baby I actually think it suits him “Rubén Norris has a ring to it. I like it”

“Do you actually?” Lando sounds surprised that I’ve actually agreed with him on a name out of the thousands we’ve looked at.

“I really like it and I like the fact you’ve brought my Spanish side into it. That’s really thoughtful” the fact Lando has covered all bases is really touching and in my state of heightened emotion I find myself crying again.

“Don’t cry baby” as Lando rests his forehead again mine I kiss him softly “I love you my girl. I didn’t think I could love you anymore than I did until I’ve just witnessed what I have today”

“I love you Lando. Me and Rubén couldn’t have don’t this without you”

“Does that mean you want to call him Rubén?”

“I do. The more I look at him the more I think the name suits him and then we he’s older I can’t wait to tell him that it was his daddy who picked his name” looking at our baby I can’t believe he’s here. I can’t believe he’s ours. I may be biased but together we’ve created the most beautiful baby I’ve ever laid eyes on.

esmelucia and landonorris

Liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, livdavies and 3.6m others

esmelucia our baby boy finally made his dramatic entrance into the world on Friday 7th August. Rubén Jack you are everything we dreamed of and more 🩵.

landonorris I could not have done any of this without you by my side. You have been my rock from day one and we both love you endlessly. No words will ever be enough to express how grateful I am for you.

View all comments

maxfewtrell congratulations again and welcome to the best club. Rafe cant wait to meet him

-> esmelucia you’re all welcome to come over any time

landonorris I love you both so much my girl

-> esmelucia 🤍🥹

user931 McLaren’s 2044 rookie has arrived

user583 literally the cutest baby I’ve ever seen

-> user525 it’s like Lando has cloned himself

-> esmelucia no denying who his dad is 😅

• • •

So when I originally wrote this story there was never any kind of plan to write more and especially something as long as this has turned out to be but I just can’t let these two go 🥹. Hope you all love this as much as I did writing it 🤍

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

studying Philosophy is really like

you think this is going to help you understand the world and your place in it better,

but actually all it does is confuse and befuddle you farther than ever before

and also you make friends with the most annoying (read: great, smart, lovely, kind, but argumentative as ALL GET OUT) people in the world and then you realize you've BECOME one of those people and you kind of want to just curl up in a nice quiet little hole in the ground with all your books and read and think until a complete and total understanding of the world falls out of your noggin and everything makes sense; but actually you just want to take a walk in the woods with a friend and not think about anything for at least a year.

[berthindeath]

@lone-blade liked for a starter

Her blade tears through the darkspawn's skull with a sickening squelch; it howls a piercing death rattle before she kicks it as far from her as she can muster. It never ends. Her chest heavens from exertion, eyes surveying just how little ground they've made up as the onslaught batters against the fortress.

Weisshaupt, the pinnacle of a legendary order—and it's crumbling under her feet.

This is a cluster fuck.

Cacophony reigns as horns blare, a perpetual cloud of smoke stinging her eyes, and a relentless sea of darkspawn motivated by their ancient master. This couldn't be going worse, but at least her life remains cleaved to her bones, for now.

As they begin making their way toward the library, they reach a pocket of remaining wardens fending off an incoming overwhelming horde. Unwilling to leave them behind, Gwendolyn diverts her course straight for the wardens. When she's within range, the necromancer slams her staff hard into the ground, sending a pulse of necrotic magic that sends darkspawn sprawling back, buying them precious few seconds to flee. " Come on! There's too many of them, we need to fall back! "

[cannimumsable]

izuku who doesn't remember or know kacchan is trans will always be so fucking funny to me. he just sees kacchan in pants/skirt (depending on transmasc/transfemcchan) in UA and he's like mm. anyways

[devilishdanse]

@doublejango ; Vepar gets to turn Lucifer into a stress ball or whatever happens. . . . .

"Listen, I'm clearing my schedule for today and the next two. No meetings, no calls, nothing! The only exceptions are if it's an absolute emergency, or it's Charlie. Otherwise, they can leave a message and I'll get back to them wheeenneevver. Okay? Great! Thanks!" He leaves his assistant with that information before anything can be said or argued.

Lucifer's hair is an absolute DISASTER, and even worse are the feathers all mussed from the wind. Realistically, he should have just used magic to get to his destination, but it felt improper and a bit disrespectful to take such an easy method to get from point A to point B. Today it did, anyhow. Besides, he needed the opportunity to stretch his wings. Lucifer had even insisted on making the trip to him, rather than the other way around. He needed out of those walls; needed to separate himself from too familiar shadows and the thoughts that crowded in. There he went, running away from one problem to the next, and away, away, away. . . .

What he did not need, however, was the wind attacking him from every Sin-forsaken angle no matter how he made the flight to the mountains. Lucifer understood the WHY for choosing such a remote location. . . . it was the HOW that rattled around and made him antsy with frustration. Even upon landing and magicking his wings away, the king still nearly found himself blown to the ground with an invisible force. He had half a mind to ask if some of it were magic more so than natural.

He takes out his phone, finds Vepar's contact, and taps a short series of messages.

: HEYYYY BUDDY! : Just flew in! It is WINDY up here. : You wanted to chat?

[racke7]

My internet has been investigated by a professional.

There might be something weird with the big cables (to quote the guy: the "inner-pair" and "outer-pair" of the eight-cables are of different lengths, but by all accounts still work just fine), but my own equipment has at least passed (no extra-fine for crying wolf for me).

The weird stability-thing continues to be weird. And current test is for them to switch my internet-provider (internet-provider has a use-contract with the cable-operators, who are the ones investigating) over the weekend. See if the problem is on that end.

It's possible that this is the case (at which point I guess I'll try to switch permanently), or that it's that weird cable-length resulting in the problem (which is... a whole different can of worms).

[botanikos]

Perhaps he was earning a reputation beyond the Goetia name. This wasn't, after all, his first time being taken captive for one reason or another. Though it certainly isn't surprising anymore. Conveniently enough, Stolas hadn't been near his phone at the time; not that he needed it. He chides himself for near instantly thinking of reaching out to Blitz. He was always the first thought in his flustered mind when in distress - among other moments as well. Perhaps that alone spoke volumes. All he wanted was to enjoy a nice, luxurious bath surrounded by warm candles and his prized crystals with lavender and jasmine floating on the surface. But no. He hadn't even had time to remove his attire, not even to dip a talon in to test the water!

Stolas had been blindfolded up until recently, and now he peered around the room attempting to analyze his surroundings and gather his bearings. Vibrant red eyes narrow as he struggles against his bindings. Blessed rope. How delightful. Someone did their homework. Nevertheless, surely he wasn't in any real danger...

❝ Honestly if it's money you seek, I have no problem providing it without the use of these nightmarish restraints. I would have also preferred to remain in the comfort of my own palace as opposed to.... This quaint place. ❞

-- for @hazbinned

[hazbintales]

@musehotpot - ♡ starter with charlie.

Charlie looked around the newly made hotel, a smile on her face as she greeted anyone she came across until she saw her father. She stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath in before starting her walk again, moving towards him with her smile still on her features.

“ Afternoon, dad. ” She greeted him as she approached and came to a short stop once she felt she was close enough to him. “ What are you up to? The hotel looks great, thanks for all your help. I don’t think I uh.. thanked you properly… ”

[moldcursed]

@praynot said : ❝ don't go... ❞ && [ LEAD ] : lee takes ethan by the hand, and leads them to the bed.

ethan stands in the hallway outside lee’s hotel room ; the expression on his face is one of a man lost and adrift, unsure of what exactly he's doing here in the first place. he shouldn't be here, bothering lee this late at night. most certainly not. this isn't like him. she's got enough on her plate without bringing even more of ethan's bullshit into it ( she has done enough for him already ). he's almost talked himself out of it, ready to turn and head back to his own room, but then lee opens her door and he's stuck standing there in the hall like an goddamn idiot. ethan can't leave without giving an explanation. he knows this.

“ i'm sorry for waking you. ” the words are out immediately, tone immensely apologetic. “ i couldn't sleep, and i just ... ended up here. ” there's a small laugh, soft and quiet, albeit humorless. “ sorry, lee. i'll get out of your hair. ”

ethan doesn't even give her a chance to reply before he’s turning to head back in the direction he came �� only for the agent to reach out and grab his hand. don't go, she says as he turns around, and ethan's chest tightens with a sensation he can't quite place.

relief, he thinks it might be. relief that he doesn't have to be alone in that damn room, where the walls are closing in around him and the thoughts in his head are getting to be far too loud for his own comfort. lee represents something akin to safety — after all, she's the one who came to save him from the baker house and all of its horrors, the one who believed him when no one else did. she's something familiar, something comfortable, something that ethan knows well enough to be at ease with. he can trust her, and god knows that's not easy for him to do these days.

“ i don't want to impose — ”

there isn't any room for argument or resistance though, he realizes. not as she gently tugs him into her room with an understanding expression, shutting the door behind him. not as she leads him towards her bed, hand wrapped tight around his. she’s welcoming him in, no questions asked, and ethan would be a fool not to take her up on the offer.

[starsmuserainbow]

[[ Starter for @needlenxggin !]]

Okay, that was definitely a first in all her times of travelling through space.

Starfire had been flying like normal, using her communicator to make sure she stayed on course while making her way back to Tamaran. Then, suddenly, she was completely thrown off course, as if an insanely strong gust of 'wind' would have hit her. She could only assume it must have been a ship passing too fast for her to even see, or perhaps even an actual attack aimed for her for some reason; but right in this moment, she couldn't really assume or think much. She completely lost control of her flight through this force pushing her, getting flung around hard enough to just spin and fall along with the force, and she could sense that she was entering an atmosphere at some point. Until the crash, she still was unable to do anything or stop herself. Needless to say that she left a huge dent in the ground, though thanks to the tamaranean sturdiness, at least she wasn't knocked out or any badly wounded.

Groaning as she got herself back up, the first thing that Starfire realized was that her communicator, which she had held in hand as whatever this was happened, did not survive the forces and all that she was holding anymore was a shattered piece of technology. Tucking it away, she lifted herself up further to now stand again, and then looked around. Starfire definitely didn't recognize the planet, but the more important part was that she was stared at. No wonder by that entrance she must have made. "I... I greet you. I do not mean harm," Starfire spoke, repeating as she was going through the languages she knew, like any tamaranean usually did when making contact with someone they didn't know what language they would speak.