#💫 Friends;

[maxlarens]

lando and 3💗💗

3) hiding face in neck

There’s a grin splitting its way across your face as you hustle through corridors and fight crowds across the paddock. You thought you’d be able to get away with watching the race in one of the fancy Miami VIP areas. You’d thought he’d do good but not this good— you shouldn’t have underestimated him.

P1. P1.

You should have started hustling to McLaren earlier in the race honestly, when he was leading and you had a sick feeling in your gut from the anticipation.

Whatever.

You’re sprinting like your life depends on it, flashing your lanyard and flagging down McLaren staff who recognise you so you can be let into areas that Lando or someone equally as important usually takes you through.

You’re waylaid just before you can hit the tarmac. Stopped by an obstinate security guard who you can’t really blame for just doing his job. You can see flashes of orange, bits of the car as you stand on your tiptoes to catch someone anyone’s eye.

“You have to let me through,” you say, “I am literally his best friend. He just won.” Then you’re seeing a Red Bull cap and you’re shouting, “MAX! Oi, Max!”

Max frowns, head turning in each direction until he finally spots you and the security guard who’s trying to hold you off. He rolls his eyes, then jogs over.

“You can let her through, mate,” he says, an exasperated edge to his tone that you will deal with later thank you very much, “She’s with Lando.”

You’re not with Lando, you want to bite back. Okay, technically in Max’s sense of the word you are.

Whatever.

The moment the security guard moves his arm you’re off like a shot, sparing only a second to pat Max’s arm in thanks. You take off onto the tarmac, out into the Miami sun. There’s the MCL38, there’s a sea of papaya behind a barricade, there’s Zak Brown and there’s Lando.

You thud into his side, almost knocking him into Zak as you throw your arms around his neck. Responding on instinct he catches you, one arm winding around your waist. You’re babbling as soon as you’ve got him in your grip— I’m so proud of you’s and I knew you could do it’s bubbling from your mouth as you try to stop from crying.

He’s laughing— giggling that shrill, joyful thing he does�� as he twists around in your arms. He puts both arms around your waist, squeezes and lifts. And you don’t even care that he’s sweaty and smells bad, because he’s shoving his wet (from sweat, from tears) face into your neck and he’s hugging you like he doesn’t want to let go.

[zaacoy]

Short freenoodles focused comic inspired in part by takakmimi's freenoodles post on twt!!

[vingler-mirror]

So we know from her character story that Windsong's real name is Ekaterina, but we never get to know where the name "Windsong" came from.

Someone on discord got a big brain idea that it might be a smart gay reference to the Little Mermaid, where Windsong is the wind spirit Vila meets at the end of her story!

As we all know, the Little Mermaid is fated to die and dissolve into sea foam, but her good deed spares her life and transforms her into a Sylph, a daughter of the air. She goes to live her new life with the other wind spirits, where they strive to do good deeds for 300 years to get the eternal soul.

This parallels SO well to Vila, a "mermaid" who survives her fate of "dissolving" to the Storm, marking the end of her old life in Rayashki and the start of a new one in the Foundation with her "wind spirit", aka Windsong! They also look after the Rayashki kids together, whom Vila refers to as the true "eternal soul" in her story.

In the fairy tale, the wind spirits can also shorten their 300 years of service by meeting good children (probably to encourage the kids you read this story with to behave), which ties another connection to Vila and Windsong teaching and caring for the kids throughout the story.

[shyghosties]

he’s friends with the stars ✨

[notquitehuman-creations]

💎emf💎

[neuvifuri]

tighnari to kaveh at alhaitham’s birthday dinner

[lilacerull0]

she's the door, she can't be the room

L'Amica Geniale - Elena Ferrante | Holly Warburton | Stephanie Says - The Velvet Underground | Winter Lady - Leonard Cohen | x | Suzanne Siegel

[pluviophile6104]

"First squishing Khaotung's cheeks in every universe" gifset + firstkhaotung ver.

[elitadream]

Sorry you've been feeling poorly. Hope you feel better soon ❤️‍🩹

MY HEART. WHY, YOU INSANELY TALENTED AND CONSIDERATE HUMAN BEING-!!

Brb. Gotta go lie down and cry. (;﹏;)

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

I'm going to sound like such a smartass but I'm glad I'm seeing more people express that "Huh, maybe this girl who has an entire song repeating to herself over and over again that her murder was not her fault meanwhile she-

portrays herself as a giant grotesque bug in her headspace with her victim, who she clearly still holds a high opinion of, being the only human in said headspace looking at her with visible disgust and fear,

Making this expression upon realizing what she just did

These being the lyrics that follow right after, having a moment of reconsideration

Before jumping back to trying to convince herself that she was in the right, because she put her trust in us to tell her if what she did was right or not, and the answer that came out was yes... That maybe, just maybe. She thinks that what she did...

Might have been her fault."

[aropride]

[maxlarens]

Hi! Can i request friends for lovers with lando saying "i can't seem to take neither my eyes, nor my mind off of you, [name]." ✨🫶 thank you

usually i am so Consumed by the idea of the ✨Tension✨ of friends to lovers that i never do a confession scene but here is me making good on that finally. i hope u liked this anon!!!! sorry it took a while.

In hindsight, you think you should have woken up that morning and known. Known via some cosmic force that today was going to be it— the day you’d been waiting basically a decade for, the day you don't think you'll forget as long as you live—

Instead, you wake up bolt upright at three in the morning, heart beating frantic in your chest, to five missed calls from your best friend.

"What?", you groan, angry, into the phone, then, realising he's calling you at three in the morning, a more concerned note seeps into your tone, "Lan, is that you? You alright?"

"I locked myself out," is the gravelly reply.

"You locked yourself out?"

"I— yes," he hisses down the line, "I forgot my keys okay."

You snort, say, "You're a silly billy," without thinking anything of it.

You'll attribute it to sleep deprivation later, but you'll also find that Lando thinks nothing further of it, too used to you throwing affectionate nicknames his way—

"Shuddup," he mumbles.

You think he's drunk, at least tipsy. He'd said something offhandedly on your FaceTime call yesterday about going out with a few friends you don't know. Besides, there's a slur to his words, a tiredness.

"Come up already," you tell him.

"'M right outside."

You hum in confirmation that you've heard him, put your phone back on the nightstand and slip out from under the covers. You're wearing a sweatshirt that's three sizes too big it might be Lando's and pink fuzzy socks, you feel goosebumps rise on your legs as you pad to the front door. You lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes as you unlock the padlock and swing it open for your friend.

Lando stumbles in. You twist around to look at him. He's not as drunk as you thought he might be. Sleepy though. You can tell by the squint of his eyes, how they're red rimmed and the mess of his hair. Run through too many times with his hand.

"You want your spare key?", you question as Lando turns on his heel, finding you at the sound of your voice.

He frowns, looking at you like you've grown two heads. Crease forming between his eyebrows.

"Nuh," he shakes his head, then reaches forward to take your wrist, hauling you back through the apartment, "Let's go sleep."

You shrug, acquiescing as he leads you to your bedroom. If you hadn't just been woken up from a dead sleep you might have felt a little weird about it. Paid attention to the stirring feeling low in your gut. Instead, you slip into bed and pull the covers back for Lando without a care in the world.

It's not that weird, you think as he kicks off his shoes and rummages around on your hanging rail for a shirt big enough for him. He finds one that you're sure was originally his. You look away as he changes, shucking out of the short sleeve button up you'd helped him pick out, peeling off chinos you'd also picked out. There's a pair of his gym shorts laying around somewhere, you know it— but he doesn't bother to look for them. Just pulls the t-shirt on over his bare tan chest and climbs in next to you.

You've done this before. Many times. And the two of you make a deliberate point of not being weird about, even though it's been a point of contention in every relationship either of you have had to date. And you don't know what it is tonight this morning, but his presence next to you is making your chest tight. Something skitters up your spine as he slots into your space.

As casual as ever he slings an arm over your waist, tugs you closer to him and presses the line of his nose into the back of your neck. Briefly, he reaches to swipe your hair out of the way, mumbling something about it tickling him.

There's something set ablaze in your stomach.

"G'night, babe," he mutters, breath fanning your ear.

God. You have to suppress a shiver. The babe thing isn't even anything different, he calls you that often enough mostly when he's had something to drink, there's just something about it right now. When you're sleep-woozy and he's just undressed in front of you. Maybe you had a weird dream about him again and you can't remember it, even if your subconscious does.

You bite down on your tongue, answer, "Sleep tight, Lan."

He hums. You crack your neck to stop from letting out a noise that would be utterly indecent right now. Unaware, Lando puts his nose right back in the same spot. You lie there for a while, wired and buzzing, until you hear his breathing steady and deepen as he falls asleep. And even though you feel like every nerve ending in your body is on fire, sleep finds you too.

You wake up again, later, to the morning sun pouring in through your curtains. It lights up the empty space on the bed in front of you. Acreage of bed, pillow, not taken up by anyone.

Still, on your other side, Lando's in your personal space to a degree that you don't realise at first. You wake up disoriented, grappling to remember the events of early that morning. There’s still no cosmic thing telling you that you need to remember today. Commit every single second to memory as it happens. You try to roll over, feeling warmth at your back but not thinking anything of it until Lando gripes something unintelligible into your ear—

Okay. Memories return to you now.

You start to contextualise the skin on yours.

Lando's arm is still slung around your waist, but his hand has made it's way underneath your jumper. Fingers dig into the plush skin of your bare stomach, clutching like you'll slip out of his grasp if he's not careful. Somehow, the other arm has forced it's way under your pillow and you can feel the line of his body against your back, where he's gotten as close to you as he could manage. His legs tangle with yours, one of them spreading out into your space, strewn diagonally across the bed. His knee presses up into the meat of your thigh.

You try not to think how easily your bodies fit together.

You're still for a while. Drifting in and out of sleep. You're comfortable, above all else. You don't really want Lando to move. This certainly isn't the first time you've woken up like this, tangled up with each other, you're betting you'll be able to pass it off with a silly comment once Lando wakes up. You'll extract yourselves from each other and get on with your day like usual.

No big deal—

Lando wakes up half an hour or so later and acts like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He yawns loudly into your ear and rolls over without fanfare—

No big deal—

It's only when you're in the kitchen together— cooking bacon and eggs while Lando drinks coffee from your espresso machine— that the cracks start to show.

You glance at him sideways, watching as he gnaws at the inside of his mouth. His eyes slip off you, directing to the sizzling pan, “What’s up?”, you ask, “Something happen?”

He shakes his head, too quickly, “No. Nope— I—”

He tapers off his sentence, shaking his head. Nose scrunching momentarily. You raise an eyebrow but don’t think much of it. It’s Lando, he’ll tell you if it’s important. Plus, you’re kinda busy right now making sure the eggs don’t burn. A few minutes pass, you ask him to grab plates. He says okay and then drags out an,

“Um,” for so long that you’re a little concerned.

Something nervous flutters in your chest, you’re turning the heat on the burner down low before you know why. You’ve just been friends with Lando for so long, you know when there’s something heavy in his words, when there’s something on the tip of his tongue.

You turn to give him your full attention, your eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him.

“Plates, Lan?”

He’s staring at you. Like, staring at you. Like, slack-jawed, eyes glittering, staring. Like how the guy looks at the girl at the end of every rom-com ever. Like how Harry looks at Sally in every fucking scene of your favourite movie of all time. Like—

Shit. Do you have a massive fuck off pimple on your face? Have you turned blue? Are you being completely out of your mind delusional right now? Because there’s something suddenly wreaking havoc in your stomach. And you really do want to believe that Lando is looking at you in that way, and not just because you’ve got something embarrassing on your face—

“Lando,” you say, firmly, urgency to it, “Spit it out.”

He shakes his head.

You put a hand on his bicep, “Lando.”

It’s got to be that. It’s got to be—

God, your chest feels tight. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. He’s not even said anything yet!

It’s got to be—

He blinks. You think your sudden intensity has made him nervous because he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side. A little groan escapes his lips.

“I just—” he sighs heavily, as if it’s too hard to force out; but he’s still looking at you, “What if, I was— ugh, no, nothing, it’s fine—”

“What if you were what?”, it’s out of your mouth before you can think. You think you know exactly what the end of his sentence is. You think perhaps you are too. A pause, then, being braver than you thought you could be, you add, “In love with me?”

He looks immediately as if you’ve sucker punched him right in the gut. Eyes wide and wet and red-rimmed, like kicked puppy, a pleading dog. There’s something scared, nervous, in the set of his shoulders as well. You watch them draw up to his chin as he tries to sink into them.

“Why would you say that?” His voice is downright panicked, “How did you know that?”

Your heart stops beating in your chest, drops into your stomach and falls right out your ass. You shake your head,

“I didn’t. I didn’t. I just guessed, Lan,” you realise your hand is still on his bicep, you squeeze, “Are you?”

“Am I?”, he looks slightly incredulous, baffled at what you’re saying like it’s supposed to be obvious that he is, “Jesus. Of course I am. I can’t– I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re there all the time. And y’know, I see you and you’re just,” he waves an arm between the two of you, gesturing up and down at your body, “You’re fucken’ gorgeous. And you don’t say a thing when we wake up together and I’m basically, on top of you—”

“You don’t say anything either,” you gripe, even though there’s something like joy clawing up your throat, “I thought it was normal.”

Lando tips his head back, groans something halfway filthy, “Normal. I didn’t let half my exes sleep over, and I turned around if they did sleep in my bed. And— fuck, y’know— my keys are actually in my pants pocket right now. I was out drinking and having fun and all I could think about was how much I missed you. How much I just wanted to like, crawl into bed with you.”

“You arsehole.”

“What?”

“You arsehole,” you repeat, “I would have let you in anyway. You didn’t have to lie.”

For a long minute, Lando gapes at you like a fish out of water. Briefly, you think maybe you’ve screwed it by being too mean. It’s never stopped you before, but you’ve also never been in this exact situation with Lando before, frighteningly enough—

One second you’re running through all the possible apologies you could give to make it better, to smooth it all over, and then the next Lando is kissing you—

Or, you feel his hand on your chin first, your mouth forming the first letter of shit, sorry Lan, and then suddenly his mouth is slanting across yours. He tastes a bit like morning breath and a lot like bitter coffee, but his mouth is wet and soft and your lips slot together so perfectly. You put a hand in his curls and find that it feels different to when you card your fingers through his hair.

God.

He’s got a hand on your waist and he’s digging his fingers into your jaw like you’re going to pull away from him without warning and never come back.

“Lan,” you say into his mouth, he pauses long enough for you to speak, lips hovering, nearly touching, “‘M not going anywhere.”

He shakes his head, slanting forward to kiss you again, “No, you’re not,” he pulls back again, pressing his forehead to yours, green-as-grass eyes boring into yours, “Please say you’re in love with me right now?”

Despite yourself, you raise an eyebrow, “Are you in love with me?”

He sighs something ragged out through his nose, kisses you again, says, “‘Course, I’m in love with you. How could I not be,” into your mouth.

You hum from the back of your throat, tongue slipping forward to press against his teeth, tangling against his, “Then of course I am, Lan,” you echo.

How could you not be?

u just know all of lando's gfs/situationships HATED the fuck out of her

[zaacoy]

Tang in dresses I think he'd like :3c

[ssaahthings]

I aimed to help you, in return you helped me too. (Reciprocity)

Sometimes you noticed when things were off with Hotch, it seemed like a glitch in his armor. Specifically moments when you would hand him his coffee if it was out of reach, as he would move around any table the team was working at; walking and thinking. Your fingers would brush and his grip would tighten. It happened when you would squeeze by to step into the elevator at the office in Quantico, arms brush by, and he would freeze. It was never a noticeable thing, if anything it was only retrospectively apparent in those moments.

When it became clear to you, that he was likely touch starved, was when you needed to hold on to his arm to balance yourself because you had a rock stuck in your shoe; you felt his bicep flex under your fingers and heard his breath hitch yet when you casted a glance up at him he was focused on the squad cars parked in front of the crime scene you were needed at, your interest was piqued then.

After that you began noticing he would never partake in the physical camaraderie; Emily would hug and lean on JJ, Morgan would ruffle Reid's hair as he passed the genius and throw an arm around Penelope when she joined them from her office, and Rossi would pat their backs in a paternal manner when he spoke to them. Sure he had Jack, to hug and cuddle with but you deemed it was different with a father-son relationship, he most likely thought he was giving his son what he needed. Aaron Hotchner is selfless like that, one of the reasons you love him as much as you do.

For a while it was all observations and your heightened sense to notice patterns, especially when it was regarding the man himself.

You were already having a bad day today, the team had made a miscalculated judgement based on the competency of the officers in the local precinct, who were also ridiculing you as well as the whole of the team, but because of the past days, past week, past month it hit you harder than the rest of your coworkers. It's not like you don't know you can go to them with your troubles, considering they're also your closest friends, it's just hard to paraphrase it in a way that would make sense. It felt like everyone was going through something this time of year, but with the jobs you all had, there wasn't much else to do but move onward.

So here you were, standing next to Hotch who was holding a piece of gauze to his forehead from where the unsub's submissive partner, the team had failed to profile, struck him from trying to save the offender you were after. Your eyes roamed his face, his arms, his chest cataloging to make sure he wasn't harmed anywhere else. When you heard the paramedic say he didn't need to go into the hospital you sighed in relief and took some of the fresh pieces of bandages that had been placed beside him and offered to take over cleaning and bandaging him up, making sure he was okay.

"Y/N, you know you don't have to do this." You heard Hotch mumble, seemingly far away but still alert enough to be aware of his surroundings, always on guard like that.

You nod and smile softly and you say, "I know, but it's making me feel better to take care of you right now." You finish cleaning off the blood from his face, gently press the ends of the butterfly bandage in place, "There, good as new." You let him know you were done, squeezing his arm for nonverbal punctuation.

You notice again that he tenses and avoids your gaze, "Hotch? Are you okay?"

"Aaron?"

Still no response, you think back to when he got injured and you don't remember his arm being hurt, so then you start to remember all the other times he's tensed up and you remember all the evidence that leads to him being touch starved, you remember the time you had to physically lean on him for support.

But by the time you're ready to do something about it, he's already assigning tasks to the team and then it's back to the hotel. You have to stop by the precinct to wrap up and grab your work and personal belongings when you overhear some officer make a snide comment about you and your team, it puts you on edge and in order not to make things more complicated you keep quiet and leave for the hotel.

You're quiet and they all notice it, they see how your shoulders are tense and that you're not joining in on the conversation, and you fail to hear the others making plans for dinner or to notice how Hotch is acutely observing you, trying to piece together why you're feeling the way you are in that moment.

His room is on the same floor as yours, across from yours even, so when you walk up to your room and just stand there, Hotch is watching you from the doorway of his. He takes a step forward leaving the door open, observing you.

"Y/N?" Aaron spoke softly as to not disturb the quietness of the hallway.

You turned around and looked at him, he seemed to be concerned. "Hmm?"

"Are you okay? You've been off since we got back to P.D." His voice tender, eyes shining under the lights.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine, Hotch. Don't worry about me." You wave him off unconvincingly.

"You sure? Because you could come in and we can order room service for dinner, the others already left. You could consider it making things even for you patching me up." He vaguely gestures to his head.

That amuses you, so you smile and agree, crossing the way into his room, looking it over your eyes fall on the open windows on the opposite side, "You got a really nice view of the city, I just face the nextdoor building." You sigh dramatically, side eyeing him so he knows you're just teasing.

"Yeah, but I'm sure it's a great building." He retorts, "What would you like to eat?" holding the phone and menu card in his hand

"I think we've eaten enough around each other for you to know what my preferences are." You turn to face him, with a brow raised.

He huffs out a laugh and nods your way, afterwards placing your dinner order. It was a timid sense of normalcy, forgetting what the day trailed behind the two of you, your nerves come back so abruptly it it feels like a force knocked a breath out of you, and of course he notices it. He notices you.

"Y/N... I'm here if you want to talk about what happened. I noticed that you seemed a bit shaken up after we came back." He comments while moving to stand before you, the sincerity in his eyes gives you the illusion of making them brighter, and your heart clenches for him in affection.

"It's just... been a tough day, Hotch." You confess, keeping your eyes wide in order to combat the stinging behind them that you know means you'll start crying soon, "at first it was one of those days, you know? The kind that you just go through the motions, but ultimately you're alright in the end. And then I had to deal with those officers, they belittled me so much but I know with this job and being on this team, we have a duty to a sense of professionalism, so I kept my mouth shut, reserved. And then you-" You blinked and a rogue tear escaped, keeping your eyes closed for a moment while you let out a hushed, "I was so scared when I saw you get hit... It was hard to focus because I needed to make sure you were okay but we also had a job to do."

Your eyes begin to sting further with oncoming unshed tears, blinking rapidly to fight the sensation and giving up the fight to falsely show your resolve. With your view downcast you noticed one of Aaron's tells for when he was contemplating something; his thumb would move up and down his index and middle fingers. Up and down two times, switch, up and down two times more. Your mind begins to race, what could the eloquent Aaron Hotchner be contemplating saying or doing in front of, or to you.

Whatever it was you looked up and locked eyes with him, something unspoken passed and all you could do was nod your head minutely. Standing still, allowing him to make the steps to come to you, and to wrap his arms around you. One around your shoulders, and the other around your waist. You laid your head on his shoulder, face tucked between the crisp fabric of his shirt and the soft skin of his jawline. You took a deep breath, and wrapped your arms around him in return. Sliding your palms from his midsection, feeling the muscles ripple in their wake, to then connect your hands together in a lock.

"It's okay to asked to be touched, you know." He startles at the sound of your voice.

"I... It's been a while. Not since..." He trails off, knowing you would understand.

"I know, but it's okay, Aaron."

"How come you're the one comforting me now, I was supposed to be consoling you."

"Well, that's what partners do right? An equal give and take for what's needed," You inquire, "And don't think I didn't notice the subtle topic change, Mister."

"Oh we're partners, now?" He says playfully, giving your side a squeeze in further acknowledgement of what you said.

"Well yeah, I mean..." Trailing off when you feel a soft press of his lips to your temple, "Oh..." You breathe out.

"I was teasing you, Honey." He says with a chuckle. Clearing his throat he begins, "You know, I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to feel so much again, for someone, for you. Everyday I see you at the office in the bullpen, or in a precinct when we're away, or if I'm lucky enough to see you sleepy in hotels. Y/N, it feels like a second chance I'm not certain that I deserve."

You move to pull away, so you can look at him in his eyes when you say the words you heard unspoken, but his arms tightened around you, you smiled brightly.

"Aaron, love," You give him a squeeze for emphasis, he viscerally reacts to the term of endearment "I think we all deserve a second chance in life, in love."

After you're able to step back enough to press a kiss to his cheek, right where it meets the corner of his mouth. He gives you the privilege to see his blinding smile.

fyi: it's been a little while since i've written anything like at all but !!! i'm trying my best now to get to writing and post things because it's one of my favorite things to do ❤

this is for: @greg-montgomery @criminalskies @htchnr @ssahotchnerr

[cali-kabi]

~ The Two Star Warriors Meet💫🌟🍄

doodled this the other night their my favorite characters ;w; yes I wanted to make some crossover art of them I love Mario RPG so much Geno is so cool <3💫I don’t know why I went with the anime like style and aesthetics this drawing is like what I pictured in my mind xD

[pierrotlunaire08]

cuddles :-) i have posted so much Htf fan art to my account that it’s not even funny