#Endeavour: passenger

[oeuvrinarydurian]

It’s a Wednesday Special.

This tiny clip made me think of @astridcontramundum’s “many examples of meta” post.

I was going to re-blog hers with it, but I can’t find it, so it’ll be a less exciting standalone. 

Endeavour: Passenger Opening titles.

Creepytown.

[morsesnotes]

[too-antigonish]

I love this shot and it's funny because looking at it made me go back to my folder of screenshots from Passenger. I realized that the director (who is apparently Jim Field Smith) has a thing for using straight lines in his compositions--because the images below were also two of my favorites from the episode:

“Thank the Creatives Thursday” Part One (with bonus Thursday Thursday content)

From s5 Passenger

I love how this shot is set up/framed, and all the green tones.

One more reason this series draw me back again and again (besides the allure of Evans…I’m not completely shallow. Oh wait, I am. Stay tuned)

[upthelagan]

Endeavour. Passenger.

[lilacxquartz]

part 4 of 19 of kinktober: dreams

bill cipher x reader

plot: you couldn’t truly escape bill, not even when you slept and tonight, he had a special sort of visit arranged — a/n: there is some plot to this one — themes: yan!bill cipher, dreams/mindscape, teasing, orgasm denial, gn!reader, dubcon — w.c: ~1.6k

kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

Sleep was something of a fifty-fifty endeavour for you.

In the best case scenario, you would wake up fully rested with no further issues, but in the worst case? You’d see him there; his looming presence haunting the darkest depths of your mind—forcing you to remember just how much control he truly had over you—again and again.

For a while, he left you alone, letting your mind recover for just long enough to be lulled into a false sense of security. Tonight however, just as you finally were about to fall sleep… you got a bad feeling.

Bill was waiting for you and you could tell.

(It was all too good to be true. You were never free to begin with, you silly thing.)

Your dreamscape itself was pretty simple, as far as you understood it. Your mind presented memories in a large paper calendar with core fragments highlighted in a red marker. A lot of what was stored was mundane, but if you flipped the pages back far enough, you could relive the one and only time that you allowed Bill to get close to you.

It wasn’t just highlighted in red marker, but it had been tampered with; decorated around the borders by Bill himself. Small yellow triangles scratched in glittering ink and etchings of singular eyes familiar to his own.

A memory locked away of you being just nineteen, maybe twenty, wasting away over the summer back home from college. You didn’t have much going on and the temptation to let Bill in was stronger than ever.

You shouldn’t have done so…

(…But you did.)

You hated that memory; a sign of momentarily lapsed weakness captured and replayed for as long as you lived. Dreams were something you didn’t have anymore otherwise. It was either nothingness or it was something like this.

You were exhausted.

The memory was always the same, too.

You watched on from within the shadows as though you were a helpless passenger with no control of the vehicle; witnessing the time that you let Bill in when you shouldn’t have. His sudden appearance and mocking demeanour betrayed no hint at him likely anticipating it at the time—so smug and prideful—a willing victim fallen to manipulation.

It was a humiliating sight to witness as your past self became so flustered and overwhelmed like soft putty in his hands. You had no choice but to endure this replaying memory, watching as his arm snaked towards your lower body, going places where you should never have let him go.

Curse that… entity.

That wretched demon.

Why did he have to make you relive this scene again and again? Was it because he knew about your struggles to get off in the waking world? You betted that he did. Watching from the shadows as you tried to touch yourself to relive that moment, only to be shamed by your own self out of doing so.

You couldn’t ever follow through.

Not when he was potentially watching.

(And you would hate for him to tell you that he told you so, that you can’t help but still want him back. Oh no, no, no. The very least you could do was to deny him that pleasure.)

While distracted, you accidentally gulped just loud enough for your voice to bleed into the memory. Shit. You managed to avoid him for so long by enduring and keeping quiet, but now you had inadvertently doomed yourself to something else.

Bill dislodged from your past self, leaving them to sulk back onto the floor. His voice was deceptively enthusiastic as always, emanating an eerie whimsy, “Well, well, well. Look who’s all red faced from spying on what was supposed to be a private moment? Who knew that it would get you so worked up?”

“I’m not…” you trailed off, feeling less than confident in your reply, “I'm not worked up.”

“No?” he taunted, sounding disbelieving before pointing his cane back to your dream self, still sulking but otherwise panting and recollecting their breath from stolen pleasure. “I think that you’re lying…! Or, no… Could it be that you’re—that you’re jealous? Oh wow, now this is rich!”

You didn’t dare reply but you did freeze a little as he resumed his actions on you instead. This was a new development. He pushed his cane in between your legs, willing you to clench tight against it with an unseen force before wriggling it around long enough to elicit a pleasured response.

“Oh, don’t tell me that this is all it takes to get you going these days?” Bill mocked, slightly pumping and stirring the stick around your clenching form. “I didn’t think that you would be so sensitive, so desperate and dare I say… needy? You really are full of surprises!”

Finally finding your backbone, you attempted to put a stop to the madness, “Get out of my head, Bill.”

He could only let out a dry, humourless laugh before sliding out the cane from your teased sex at last.

“Silly you!” he beamed once more, pushing you up against the wall from that same hidden power from before. “Why not just admit it, huh? You actually kind of liked that! Didn’t you?”

“N-no,” you denied with an unconvincing stutter, “it’s n-not like that.”

Bill however didn’t waver, slipping his hands beneath the fabric of your crotch, reaching to feel the evidence of your arousal. “Wow! So excited and just from a little touch! If you didn’t like that, then why are you reacting that way, huh?”

“Stop—“ you tried to punch back, your own words betraying you as you in fact didn’t want him to cease.

“—yeah, yeah,” he sneered, pulling back at your request, but you could tell that it was far from over.

You watched as he floated around with some sort of purpose, the once nostalgic interior of your old bedroom fading away into a blank void, along with your past self dissolving into nothingness.

“You can pretend to hate me now,” Bill continued after a moment of tense silence, “but deep down, I know you crave a release, don’t you? And hey, I’ll tell you what. Give in to me and I’ll leave you alone for a whole year.”

“What’s the catch?” you wearily sighed.

Bill laughed heartily to himself before propping the came back to where it was, his voice thoroughly amused, “Aw, nothing! Why do you always think there’s a catch?” he asked, lazily stroking at your sex, seemingly taking pleasure in watching you writhe, “I can be nice… sometimes! As long as you can admit that you can’t live without me… then I’ll give you that and more.”

“You know that I’ll never do that,” you shot back.

“Still playing hard to get?” he asked, swirling the wand around some more. “Not a problem. I can always rekindle that spark. How about I remind you exactly why, that for a while, you couldn’t stop thinking about me all the time…” he trailed off slightly, his voice temporarily fond before returning back to ridiculing, “…or maybe I’ll tease your past version who did like me over and over. Or better yet! Maybe I’ll just stick around in your head forever. You’re too much fun to mess with, after all.”

The atmosphere in the void pocket then dropped to something else, something thick with danger and perhaps even longing possession. His form faded towards you, flashing up tight against you in stark, jarring clarity.

With a wide, manic eye, his voice became low, methodical and even suggestive, “Let’s face it, you’ll never get rid of me… at least not fully. I’ll always be a part of you and because of that… I’m… not… going… anywhere!”

His words built up in slowly charged pulses, practically erupting with menacing glee by the final word. In a way, you had to admit it, he was good at messing with you.

You had barely any time to process what he was saying however, before his hands were back to where they were. He stroked at you with more passionate fervour that time, stealing occasionally uttered moans that broke out of your lips, sending radiating waves of red that coloured your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Aw, look at ya,” Bill caught on, catching the note of your slipped whimper by holding one hand to the side of his linear surface, as though taking it into his body. “So confused, but so aroused…! Oh, that’s adorable!”

You bit your lip as the pleasure within you rose with simmering force, feeling a tightening stir boiling from within your lower abdomen. He knew exactly what he was doing—getting you all hot like that—writhing and squirming at his will and yet, as he drove you closer towards the edge, he stopped. Bill abruptly pulled away from you and didn’t allow you to have the final push that was otherwise needed for you to come undone. Being as cruel as he was, he yanked his hand back and hovered ever so slightly above you, feeding you a look of pure, utter contempt.

“Not so fast, silly. Looks like you got a little too excited, huh?” he laughed, propping his cane that time underneath your chin before forcing you to look up at him, “you know the drill: I’ll only play nice when you can finally admit that you need me… until then, enjoy waking up all alone, frustrated and confused.”

And with that, you tore upright into the waking world a cold, clammy sweat feeling angry. The last remnants of an already fleeting warmth evaporated away into nothingness—leaving you to wonder if it actually did happen—but if Bill had forced you to forget the pleasure he had caused.

Knowing him, that’s exactly what he did.

Just to be cruel.

[oeuvrinarydurian]

Crushed like a bug. Shhhhhhiiiitttt.

Following @librawritesstuff ‘s lead from last week - and given the continuing lack of HNW content (ahem… c'mon Evans…) I propose another One Word Wednesday

A reminder...

ONE WORD WEDNESDAY

Pick a photo or a gif that reflects the word of the day and reblog with tags in this thread (coz we want to see all the choices 😉)

Today’s word: SHHHH (IIIIIIIITTT)

Obviously if you have new (🤞) or recycled HNW content I am ALWAYS (repeat ALWAYS) happy to see it

[dstryvampres]

Riders on the Storm

Neil Lewis x Reader

Summary: you decide to pick up a hitchhiker, he gives back a generous payment.

Warnings: car sex, semi-public sex, I misuse the geographic term of badlands(sorry geology lovers), p in v, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: don't pick up hitchhikers please, this is fiction, i hope you guys are smart enough to already know this...

Eight hours. That’s how long you’ve been cruising through the badlands of North America. At some point the eyes, after staring at the same scenery for so long, start playing tricks on you. They are small tricks. Inconsequential, even. A ploy to entertain you made by your own brain. Yet, they are just enough to piss you off, drive you a little crazy. You’ll see something flash across the road, a black blob that never existed, maybe a cactus in the distance that when you look away and then back is gone.

That’s what you think Neil is initially, another one of the tricks being played by your mind to fill some space, but he doesn’t disappear when you get closer. In fact, he gets all the more real as you approach. Arm stretched out in front of him, thumbs up, a hitch-hiker, clad in a pair of dusty jeans and a off-white tee, backpack slung over his shoulder. How long has he been out here? How dehydrated is he? Who hitchhikes anymore? You roll down your window and stop your car in front of him.

“Where are you going?” Neil asks, before you can get a word out.

You debate telling him a fake destination, you never know who’s out there after all. There’s a look of loss and sorrow in his eyes that makes you pity him, almost like a kicked puppy. You decide to tell him the truth.

“Vegas.”

“Well, I’m headed down that way too, not as far, I just need you to drop me off in Salt Lake City,” Neil pleads. He’s got these big blue watery eyes. How could you say no? “I’ll pay for gas?” 

“Get in,” you sigh out, unlocking your car.

Neil looks enthralled by the news, basically running over to the passengers seat and hopping into the car. You put the car back into drive before speeding off from where you first met and picked up Neil. He introduces himself to you, and out of courtesy you do the same. Soon enough the car settles into an almost awkward silence, quiet beside the car’s radio softly playing music. Neil stares out the window, hugging his backpack to his chest.

“So, why are you going down to Vegas?” Neil asks, breaking the silence. 

You jump up a little, thinking that he had fallen asleep.

“Bachelorette party. Why are you going to Salt Lake?” you hum, trying to play your previous surprise off.

“They’re hosting a pokemon tournament down there,” Neil smiles, seeming to find the contrast between your two respective reasons amusing. “Is it your bachelorette party?”

“God, no,” you say, shaking your head.

Neil seems to find your response even more amusing, starting to laugh. His laugh was warm and spread throughout the car, leading you to join him in his fit of amusement. 

“What do you even do at a pokemon tournament?” you ask, once you’ve gained more composure.

“Battle it out with cards,” Neil states, only leading to him bursting out in more laughter.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye. The way his eyes crinkle up as he laughs, and how he throws his head back.

“What do you do at a bachelorette party?” Neil retorts, shaking his head trying to stop himself from laughing again.

“Get drunk and, if I’m lucky this weekend, get laid,” you respond, increasing your speed back up to the speed limit.

“Well, it seems we both have equally exciting endeavours this weekend,” Neil says, reaching over to just barely increase the music so that it’s audible as you talk.

“Yours is far more exciting than mine,” you joke, rolling your eyes. “Actually, can I ask what you’re doing hitchhiking down to Salt Lake?”

“Uh- yeah… My car broke down about a mile back from where you picked me up. It was a piece of shit that was already giving up on me before I took it on the interstate. I was like halfway to the city, in the middle of nowhere, when it just started to slow to a stop. I heard some sputtering from the engine and before I know it I’m just stopped on the side of the road,” Neil pouts as he tells you the story, letting out a deep sigh accompanied with the shake of his head when he finishes it up.

“I’m sorry. Do you know how you’re planning on getting home then?” You ask, now genuinely worried about your passenger princess.

“My friends are going to drive me back up, no worries,” Neil offers you a smile, seemingly charmed by your worry of him.

For the next hour, you and Neil let the radio of your car do most of the talking. This time it’s a comfortable silence that settles. The initial fear of him murdering you on this deserted road slipping away as the minutes pass. If he wanted to murder you, he would’ve already!

“Can we pull into the gas station, I’m running low,” it’s not really a question, you’re just telling him why you’re veering off the interstate.

Neil hums out in response, seeming to have fallen asleep, or in an adjacent state, during the hour or two gap of silence. He stretches out, making sure not to inch too much into your own personal space, then rubs at his eyes.

“Sleep well?” you tease, only earning a soft grunt in response.

You pull into one of the pumps, turning off the car and hopping out of your car, towards the pump. Neil follows you slowly. You quirk an eyebrow at the man, but he just ruffles through his backpack. Once he’s pulled out his wallet he locks eyes with you, staring blankly for a few seconds at your confused expression.

“I promise to pay for gas,” Neil deadpans, fishing his credit card out of his wallet.

“I thought you were joking.”

“Why would I be joking about that?” Neil inserts his card into the machine attached to the pump before you can even respond.

“Neil you don’t have to,” you say, tilting your head in pity.

“Well, I don’t know how else I could repay you for a favour this big,” Neil starts to fill up your car.

“I’ll get you snacks, a drink maybe? I can’t let you pay for gas, it’s so expensive,” you're almost whining as you say this, stamping your foot lightly.

“Fine,” is all Neil says in response.

You wait for Neil to finish filling up your car, leaned up against your car, arms crossed. It’s almost embarrassing that you’re just letting some stranger pay for your gas, but you can’t complain about the view he’s giving you. His bicep flexed as he held the oil pump, looking around at the scenery. Back turned to you for a moment, and you can see the bones and muscles of his back move around as he stretches briefly. Then, you get to admire his smile as he puts the pump back and removes his card.

“Do you want to go in now?” you ask, watching as Neil puts his card back into his wallet.

Neil nods, and you lock the car before heading over to the small convenience store attached to the gas pump. You and Neil split up, seeming to have different priorities when it comes to snacks and drinks. Caffeine is what you desperately need to complete the next eight hours of this trip, so you wander over to the energy drink section. You settle on a pacific punch monster, before turning your attention to a snack. Something light perhaps? No, you’re starving. Gas station food is never the best, and you likely wouldn’t have eaten anything here if you noticed earlier. Alas, you were too busy focusing on driving and now you must settle. 

It seems that Neil was also relatively hungry, as you found him in the refrigerated food section. A Dr Pepper tucked under one arm, and a bag of puffy cheetos under the other. He gives you a polite smile before going back to browsing.

You decide the best option here is a sandwich, picking it up and then going around to wander until Neil is finally done. Sometime along the way you pick up a sweet treat, and stack that in your small pile of three. 

“I think I’m good now,” Neil says, walking over to you with two taquitos now added to his collection.

You insist on paying for both of you at the cash register, much to Neil’s chagrin, and head out to the car. Situating both of your drinks in respective cup holders before heading back onto the interstate. Sandwich you bought is situated in one hand, the steering wheel in your other. The sandwich is truly nothing to write home about but it satisfies your persistent hunger enough. It’s about three fourths of the way through the sandwich that you notice the dark clouds looming ahead of you. You’ve never been a huge fan of driving through storms, but maybe you’ll get lucky and this one will be light. A sprinkle of rain before clearing out for the rest of the trip.

Neil opens up his Dr Pepper, breaking the silence in the car. He utters out a soft sorry before he’s gulping down the drink, washing down the taquitos he just ate.

“Were the taquitos good?” you ask, taking a bite of your own food.

“They’re good for gas station food, never really have to worry about them,” Neil replies, wiping his upper lip off from the Dr Pepper residue.

You him out in response, mouth full of gas station sandwich. There’s now a soft pitter patter of rain hitting the car.

“Hope it doesn’t get any worse,” you pray around the sandwich.

“I mean it looks like it might…” Neil muses, quickly adding on a ‘but I don’t think it will!’ when he notices your eyebrows furrow.

Unfortunately for you, Neil was right. It had gotten so bad that you didn’t feel comfortable driving, pulling over on the side of the road to wait this out. Luckily for you, this gave you time to snack on your little treat. Unluckily, you were now stuck in a car for God knows how long until conditions got better.

Thunder rumbles outside.

“Yknow, because you bought me food, I feel like I didn’t repay you enough,” Neil frowns, stuffing his cheetos into his bag, seemingly not up for them anymore.

Maybe it was the long drive both ahead and behind you, or possibly being stuck in the rain. Could’ve even been the gas station sandwich you had just finished. Yet, for some reason, you replied to Neil’s small statement with:

“I got a way you can repay me.”

Leaning over the centre console, eyes fluttering closed. There's a small pause, and for a moment you feel like Neil’s going to reject you, laugh this weird situation off completely. Then you feel his lips on yours. It takes two seconds before you feel like you two are melding together. Your whole body feels fuzzy and warm, despite the rain pouring outside and the blast of the A/C. Neil breaks away for a second, panting. His pupils are wide, almost engulfing the blue iris of his eyes fully.

“We should move to the back,” Neil suggested, tilting his head towards the backseat.

You climbed over the centre console and into the backseat, Neil following you over as soon as you were seated. Once he too was seated, he placed his hands onto your thighs. Rubbing his hands up and down the exposed skin. He looks at your thighs for a couple seconds before looking back up at you. One of his hands goes up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer to his own face. Softly, a brush against the area, he places a kiss on both corners of your mouth, then kisses you again.

Neil eventually drags you into his lap, or as close as you can get to sitting in his lap while cramped in a car. You sip your tongue into Neil’s mouth as he gives your thigh a squeeze. You moan into his mouth, your own hands navigating their way down his chest and to the hem of his jeans as Neil works up your thighs to the hem of your shorts.

You both hopelessly fumble with the other's pant button and zipper. Now just a mix of soft moans, sweaty hands, and tongue. You’re able to push Neil’s pants down to his knees first, leading you to help him slide your own shorts down. Both of you pull away from the kiss to admire the other, and just as a treat for Neil, you slip your shirt off exposing your lack of a bra. Neil’s eyes widen as he admires your body, stopping himself midway through taking off his pants to do so. You palm at the bulge in his underwear, trying to encourage him to finish taking his pants off. Which is surprisingly successful.

Thunder crashes in the distance.

Neil starts trailing soft kisses down your neck and collarbones as he plays with your breasts, massaging them and tweezing at the nipples. You let moans slip into the air of the car. The windows have started to fog up, giving you slight peace of mind that no one who passes by would likely be able to see either of you. Though, with how hard the rain is coming it would be hard to see anything.

Lightning illuminates behind you.

You move to take your own panties off, hoping it will be enough to get Neil to just fuck you already. Pushing his hands and lips off of you before leaning back into the leather seats of your car before spreading your own lips with your fingers to expose your wet cunt. Locking eyes with Neil. He lets out a sigh, shaky and needy despite the fact that no one is touching him. He stares hungrily at your cunt, licking at his lips.

“Fuck baby,” Neil pants out, slowly taking off his own underwear.

His cock slaps against his stomach once freed. It's thick, not so much long, but very thick. You can’t imagine just how good the stretch is going to be once he's inside of you.

“Go ahead,” you urge, you’re sure you're wet enough that he doesn’t even need to finger you.

“Are you sure?” Neil asks, eyebrows furrowed. His face seems genuinely worried, but the head of his cock is already lined up to your entrance.

You roll your eyes and nod, and not a second goes by before Neil pushes his cock into you. The intrusion alone makes you see white for a few seconds. You let out a small yelp, he’s so thick. He pushes himself to the hilt immediately, letting out a groan as your heat encloses tightly around his cock. 

“So tight and wet for me,” Neil moans out, placing a hand on the seat to stabilise.

“You’re so thick,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment desperately trying to adjust to his girth before Neil starts moving.

Neil gives you a couple more seconds before he’s slowly pumping in and out of you, consistently spearing you on his cock. His is definitely the thickest cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of being split on. Devastating to know you didn’t even have to get to Vegas to get the best dick of the week.

Everytime Neil rocks back into you, you let out a small squeal. Somehow each time he comes back into your cunt, he feels almost just as thick as when he first entered you. As he thrusts into you, building a steady pace, you seem to get wetter. Making the task of taking his cock a little easier, but also building a small puddle of your slick onto your leather seats. His cock glides across your sensitive spots each time, before his tip presses into your g-spot.

Neil is panting above you, alternating between closing his eyes in pleasure, staring at his own cock coming in and out of you, or looking at your own expressions of pleasure. Your moans fill up the air in the car as your hands scratch at the seats for purchase. 

Neil’s pace starts to increase, soon becoming rapid enough that you bump your head on the door of the car once. You wrap your legs around his hips, head becoming fuzzy as your own high is rapidly approaching.

“Gonna cum, Neil, gonna cum,” you babble out, reaching down a hand to rub at your clit.

“Me too. Pretty girl, where do you want it?” Neil gasps out, placing both hands on your hips forcing you into a position to take him in deeper.

“Tummy,” you groan, feeling your high on your heels.

You cum around Neil’s cock, screaming out his name as you see stars. Neil pulls out of you, disappointing you only slightly. Ropes of cum land on your tits and stomach. Soon enough both of you are coming down from your high, Neil slumping against the door adjacent to you.

That was definitely payment enough.

Taglist: @paradiseprincesss @luluartpop @xanaxiii @galactict3a

[mullermilkshake]

A lasting impression - Part two

Part one

Part two

Sukuna takes matters into his own hands.

MINORS DNI 🔞 - Tags: Yakuza AU, Fem!reader. Hanami the muscle mummy, Graphic depictions of violence, gore, murder, eye gouging, stabbing, disembowellment, blood, eye gore

Yakuza!Sukuna

Sukuna knew exactly who had taken you, or for certain which family.

It wasn’t the fact that someone had taken you, this was way past that now. It was the point that someone had dared to touch you, struck you- hit you. Someone had the absolute gall to leave a mark on your body and cause you pain.

And Sukuna would not have it.

He paced down the street and called a taxi, on his way over, he managed to remove the blood from his face at least. Not the most presentable, but enough not to scare off the driver when he got in.

"Where to, sir?"

Sukuna gave the address and sat back in the seat with his arms crossed.

"That's quite far, is there a special occasion?"

Despite Sukuna just not liking people, it was admittedly neutral not to hear from someone who knew who he was. Or the man was incredibly blind not to see the blood on his clothes. Nor that he was Yakuza.

It was most probably because it was getting dark out. Still, his voice wasn't completely annoying.

Sukuna observed out of the window at the passing signs and open food stalls with one goal in mind. "I'm going to a boxing match."

Better for now than announcing that he was going to take a life tonight.

"Oh! You must be one of those famous boxers or something. Well good luck tonight!"

"Sure."

Sukuna listened to him ramble on the entire way over, almost banging his head against the glass and the longest story anyone could ever tell.

He must have thought more than a handful of times just to kick the man out of the taxi and drive himself over to the family office. It would have been faster than whatever this was.

The only saving grace to him was Sukuna's pent up rage seeing you as you were. By now, Uraume would have taken you back to headquarters, probably bathed you and wiped the red from your face.

Just the thought of another mans blood on you made Sukuna physically sick. The viscous liquid he painted on his fingers that were an extension of his arm touched you and contaminated your skin.

He would never forgive himself.

Maybe he would forgive it when he confronted the person he knew was responsible for this transgression.

Jiro Awasaka.

The bald headed fuck.

Just from those words you spoke. Tallest woman you had ever seen.

"Here's your stop sir, good luck on your endeavours."

Sukuna slid out of the car and just dropped plenty of notes on the man's passenger chair to which he yelled out with joy. It didn't matter how much was there, not really.

The light was on in that office like a beacon, beckoning Sukuna towards it like a moth fluttering by. The Awasaka family knew Sukuna was far from unsuspecting though decided to piss him off anyway.

Idiots.

He wandered in without a care, the empty lower levels weren’t a shock to see but suspenseful to say the least. Sukuna took the stairs with his hands in his pockets and just trudged up to the third floor where the office door was already open.

"Sukuna. I'm surprised to see you here."

Awasaka was hidden behind his desk, fingers laced together as though he was subconsciously hoping Sukuna would turn right around and leave and believe this pathetic front he was producing.

"I'm not interested in you just now, Awasaka. It's her I want."

Hanami. Awasaka's half witted guard.

The tallest woman anyone had ever seen. A rose amongst thorns in the Yakuza world. That's why she was so easy to identify.

Usually she her full arm and shoulder tattoo sleeve of roses and vines were visable. They were covered up in a black suit jacket clinging to her body and her tie at her next was done up to the top, that only a petal of ink peeped out over the collar by her neck.

She stood in the corner, suited more fashionably than her boss in her fitted pant suit, fluidly showing her attributes along the tight material across her arms.

Her height and muscles alone were nothing to deter Sukuna though.

"Her? What's she done?"

The fact that this man was questioning Sukuna's inteiilgence was laughable. "Did IQ's drop since the last time we met, Awasaka?"

Nanami said nothing, she stood by his side looking through Sukuna like he was nothing. And he was far from nothing.

'Nothing' was Awasaka. 'Nothing' was this entire clan and their chairman.

Noritoshi Kamo.

Yes. the very same Kamo.

"Oh... that meeting with your wife? Well she attacked two of my men, one is dead. All Noritoshi wanted to do was talk with her, but she caused so much hassle."

Upon hearing that, Sukuna couldn’t have been more proud of you.

He also wanted it be known that Choso Kamo was plucked from the same tree Noritoshi grew, yet became nothing like him. he had his reservations, but it was better the kid grew up under Sukuna's watchful eye instead of that ungrateful bastard.

Noritoshi Kamo was nothing to Sukuna, he was far superior in every way and never once actually saw Noritoshi as a threat.

"My bet is you wanted to ransom her off, right? How much is my wife worth to you, Awasaka?"

Sukuna ket his eyes transfixed on Hanami. The coward behind the desk suddenly became mute.

"Be concise and perhaps I won't kill you," if that wasn't enough to get his toes curling, this definitely would be, "or did you forget what happened to Zenin?"

He noticed Awasaka visibly swallow yet kept his smug look somewhat steady. "A hundred mil."

It was that easy to extract information from him and Sukuna hadn't even pulled any finger nails yet. How disappointing.

In honesty, you were worth far more than this little empire Sukuna had built. He'd trade it all in a heartbeat.

"The fact you think that a lousy one hundred mil would equate to my wife's worth, just shows how small minded you are. You bet too little on her head and quite frankly, I'm insulted."

One hundred million yen was 'nothing'.

You were everything.

"Sukuna-"

"I'll take compensation for the suffering you have made for a civilian. That does not come in monetary value. It comes in blood. Her blood."

"Hanami will do no such thing."

"Hanami will if she values you as her superior. Or perhaps I should start with you instead, Awasaka."

Sukuna had not moved from his spot in the office, the office door still open behind him. His age was becoming more evident, but his senses were not dulling no matter how much his opposition wanted to think.

"If you want more blood spilled, by all means, let your men down the hall witness my bare fist rip your stomach out."

"Wait... Leave us be- leave the building!" Awasaka called to no one and the movement tickling Sukuna's ears fell silent.

"You made the right choice, man," Sukuna made his move to the desk before both living bodies could register, "though I don't give second chances."

He grabbed the back of Awakasa's head and brought it down to the flat of the desk, the satisfying crunch of a broken nose set Sukuna’s instincts into overdrive.

This was nothing compared to what happened with Naobito Zenin.

Hanami finally made her own move, trying to block and break the closeness between her bleeding boss and Sukuna. Far too slow for someone hired to protect and just as clumsy when Sukuna avoided her fist and swinging arm upwards easy enough.

He swung and moved with enough speed to kick his leg out and temporarily topple Hanami in the awkward space behind the desk. Next, he pulled Awasaka from the chair and threw him to the ground to the point his stomach was now exposed under his shirt.

That's where the little ball point pens went from the stand on his desk. Two in deep enough to make the man squirm. Hanami grabbed Sukuna from behind and yanked him away.

She was slick enough to assume she had Sukuna in a bind, pulling him up and using the crook of her elbow at his neck. She never did see the two bull point pens in his hands.

Sukuna moved and utilised the almost two foot height different to his advantage and slipped out of it easy enough, practically climbing her and peicing her eyes with enough pressure that they popped.

She screamed out and stumbled around the room unti her body hit the wall with him still attached to her.

"An eye for an eye, but let's take interest until I'm satisfied," he twisted the pens and let them squelch the mass inside the eye sockets, "flesh from your skull ought to do that, maybe it'll teach you not to touch who you do not have any right to."

She said nothing, just yelped in pain some more until she slipped down the wall.

"Come on, don't be shy when you were so confident earlier hitting a civilian," He pushed the pen shaped metal in deeper until Hanami stopped moving. "Consequences have actions and I do not let things slide. Not when it comes to her."

No one got away with touching you in any way and got to walk out without losing a body part.

And now to take out the trash.

Awasaka still laid on the ground right where he was, gurgling away from his broken nose and most probably a punctured lung. Sukuna knelt down at him and watched the pathetic waste struggle.

"This will certainly be a sign to Noritoshi to take me on and I hope he does. Maybe then I'll find someone actually worth fighting, though I highly doubt that."

Pushing his fingers through the gouge in his stomach he made, Sukuna opened it further and noted the spray from Awasaka's lips as his hand disappeared inside his abdomen.

There he pulled out whatever he could get his hands on and yanked it from his body, it was practically still throbbing and steaming in his closed fist when it was tugged away.

It slumped on his skin and formed a neat pile over his chest, like a bow for a present. That should have been enough to question Noritoshi Kamo and coax him in for a 'little talk' about how his lieutenants were going unchecked.

It wasn't the last time he'd do this. It wasn’t as though Sukuna had eradicated the danger for you, but he could sleep sounder tonight knowing one less evil was at large.

They were all filthy nobodies not worth their salt.

And soon Sukuna would ensure they all met their graves in a timely manner.

Just for you.

[cherenkovrads]

The ISS is explorable on google maps!!

For those interested in space, the ISS is explorable on street view, with little bubbles explaining what certain panels/modules are for!

link

The clutter and multi directional modules (no up or down in space, so every surface is put to use) are extremely disorienting, I wonder how many astronauts get lost in their first days?

The Russian Soyuz; as of June 6th '24, there are 4 passenger spaceships docked, Boeing’s Starliner spacecraft, the SpaceX Dragon Endeavour spacecraft, Northrop Grumman’s Cygnus space freighter, and the Soyuz MS-25 crew ship. [source]

[too-antigonish]

How to Seduce Endeavour Morse: A Guide for the Perplexed

The ways are many and varied. Your chances of success are—unfortunately—highly dependent on factors outside of your control. You can, however, learn lessons from those who have tread this path before you.

1) The "I-Forgot-to-Tell-You-I’m-a-Killer" Approach

Comments: Used with surprising frequency given ultimately low success rate.

Rosalind Calloway (S1E0 Pilot): First, become a world-famous opera singer. Your artistry will convince him that life is worth living. When the time comes, gently but firmly rebuff his rather innocent advances. Be unmasked as murderess and crush his will to live via the revelation of your utter lack of humanity and subsequent suicide.

Susan Fallon (S1E0 Pilot): Be at Oxford. Have snobby parents and lots of snobby friends. Be his first great love and agree to marry him. Then abandon him very publicly and with maximum cruelty for your first great love. Many years later become murderess (although Lewis will never allow him to find that out). However, still successfully crush him to pieces again by committing suicide.

Isla Fairford (S6E3 Confection): Live in a charming small village with adorable son and amiable veterinarian father. Have an appealing origin story involving cruel abandonment that reminds him of his own life experiences.  Go on intimate date where you seem to be everything he could hope for and then share a sweet but chaste kiss goodnight. Oops, murder someone…again…sort of. Suddenly transform into personification of vengeance.

2) The "It-Never-Hurts-to-Ask" Approach

Comments: Success rate zero, but very high entertainment value.

Pamela Walters (S1E1 Girl): Like it says on the tin: Just ask. She asks, “Will you take me to bed?” Sorry sweet girl. He won’t—but he will read you a very nice bedtime story

Kay Belborough (S3E1 Ride): Play flirty name games and ask him breathlessly if he’s falling in love with you. Share a romantic kiss under fairy lights at a party.  Eventually tell him he can “have you.”  He won’t—but by then he will have saved you from a suicide attempt so I think he’s done enough really…

Annette Richardson (S3E2 Arcadia): Request help with home security. Tell him you can’t possibly undress yourself. He won’t bite—but he will come maddeningly close to nibbling on your neck and you’ll refuse to believe that he won’t come calling, ”…when he’s ready.”

Bettina Pettybon (S4E2 Canticle): Just show up at his flat looking generally bedraggled. Tell him how your mother forced you to spill the beans and get him kicked off the case. Down some hard liquor. And then—tell him you love him. When he’s gobsmacked by your revelation, assume it’s because there’s “someone else” and not because he barely knows you.

3) The "Let’s-Just-Go-to-Bed" Approach

Comments: Has an impresseive 100% success rate but never ends well.

Alice Vexin (S1E3 Rocket): Secretly crush on him for years. Go on one quasi-date where you dissect his personality quirks in excruciating detail. Show up at his door when he’s emotionally vulnerable and then sleep with him. Promptly abandon him with maximum cruelty. Be sure to tell him, “It’s not me. It’s you,” in the form of, “You’re just not ready yet.”

Carol Thursday (S5E2 Cartouche): Be very attractive. Be suddenly, unexpectedly available. Be directly in his path. This means you can skip the date part (a drink will do). Go straight to sleeping with him. Then go straight to the realization that this might be…one of the most awkward situations you’ve ever gotten yourself into. Manage to handle it all with amazing sweetness and grace nonetheless.

Claudine (S5E3 Passenger): Be very attractive. Be suddenly, unexpectedly available. Be directly in his path. Bonus points if the woman he actually wants practically throws you into his arms. Go straight to sleeping with him. Tease him. Toy with him like a capricious child. Play games for your own amusement. Abandon him with maximum cruelty. 

4) One-Off Approaches

Comments: Technically not actual attempts at seduction so...

School Girls (S2E2 Nocturne): Talk about how dreamy he is like we do on Tumblr. Given enough time, write “Love you” in eye liner on your eyelids as per: Indiana Jones movie. Blink very slowly during all interrogations.

Anna-Britt Clark (S4E2 Canticle): Be very attractive. Despise tan lines. Work on said tan next to swimming pool at rock-band-murder-mansion. Show him your (tan line free) naked torso. Find his very “English” discomfort perplexing but charming.

Eve Thorne (S5E1 Muse): You don’t actually *want* to seduce him. He’s a cop *and* a condescending prick. However, the seduction will happen anyway. You won’t sleep together. You won’t even touch. But the hate-flirting will be amazing.

5) The "Let's-Try-a-Normal-Relationship-Just-Once" Approach

Comments: She was too psychologically healthy for you. In the end it was for the best (...except for the murder and prison parts).

Monica Hicks (S2E3 Sway): Find yourself recruited for some light caregiving. Be absolutely charming. After tactless date mix-up and adorable mattress incident at department store, proceed to have actual healthy relationship. Hang out listening to music, discuss your future together, buy him a cute scarf. Then wake up one morning to find out he’s in prison—and about that scarf…

6) The "This-Doesn't-Happen-in-Real-Life" Approach

Comments: It was opera—and by opera rules he actually got off pretty easy.

Violetta Talenti** (S7E1: Oracle): Engineer improbable but spectacular first encounter—twice. Finagle one in Venice and one in Oxford. Overcome all of his valid moral objections and engage in a lengthy, passionate affair. When the moment of truth arrives, reject him with maximum possible cruelty. Die in his arms. Use your last words to ensure that he spends the rest of his life feeling conflicted and confused about the true nature of your feelings towards him.

**Also might fall into "I-Forgot-to-Tell-You-I’m-a-Killer" but we will never know for sure

7) The "We-Aren't-Explicitly-Saying-It-But-You-Know" Approach

Comments: Don't try this at home kids. It will end badly for you. Highly effective, however, when Morse and Thursday need to make up and be friends again.

Joss Bixby (S3E1 Ride): Be the UK Great Gatsby. Invite him to your over-the-top parties. Gracefully take it in stride and allow him to appear extra-clever when he points out that your latest art purchase is a forgery. Manage to be charming and self-deprecating while flirting outrageously with him. Offer him jobs. Give him cars. Have lots of emotionally charged moments (especially on dark docks) and say incredibly poetic things. Die tragically so he can mourn you forever but also use your passing as an excuse to reconnect with his former mentor.

Ludo Talenti (S7E1 Oracle): Be evil. Come up with an evil plan. Get your wife to seduce him. Then (ha, ha) you will also seduce him. You will both succeed beyond your wildest dreams. He will be the most thoroughly seduced man ever. However, once you have rejected him with maximum possible cruelty by pretending you actually care that he was sleeping with your wife, he will discover your secret life of crime and come after you. You will die (justifiably, not tragically), after killing your wife and your death will providing yet another opportunity for our hero to reconnect with his estranged mentor.

8) The "Be-the-One-That-Got-Away" Approach

Comments: Definitely the method of choice for Morse seduction. 100% effective. Hands-down winner!

Joan Thursday (S1E2 Fugue): Be very attractive, articulate, and idealistic. Be the daughter of his mentor/best friend/father figure/brother-in-arms. Have lots of incredibly charged emotional encounters but never say anything directly to him about your complicated feelings. Be together during highly significant moments in your lives, but don’t ever go on a real date (pedestrian!). Touch in a variety of meaningful and sometimes even affectionate ways, but never engage in anything blatent. A passionate kiss would be unthinkable. And never, ever sleep together! Still manage to abandon him with maximum cruelty. Still manage to be the love of his life. Well done you!

[morsesnotes]

Endeavour Morse + crouching

[akutasoda]

my eternity

synopsis - maybe an eternity couldn't last forever, especially when it's worlds apart

includes - dan heng ft express crew

warnings - gn!reader, reader is based off raiden shogun (genshin), bittersweet angst, fluff, some comfort, two socially awkward people try to express feelings, wc - 2.7k

a/n: this was requested by @supernerdycookietrashblrr! sorry this took so long hope you enoy! (i got very carried away)

you were the designated 'protector' and leader of your homeland. one filled with many traditions and people from all walks of life, but none had the knowledge to know that you were rarely actually there. in fact, the place you preferred to call your home was one you fashioned yourself, the plane of euthymia.

it was where your consciousness and physical body existed in hopes of achieving the eternity you yearned for. and in your place roamed a puppet. a puppet in your image that ruled your land for you, one that could not age or be weakened and therefore the most efficient way of ruling.

however, sometimes the endless sky in the plane of euthymia became tormenting, rather tiring and that's when you ventured outside the realm. most of the time, you'd enter in the place of your puppet who then was placed inside the plane - switching places until you got bored of the real world again.

however things seemed amiss this time. something in the plane shifted the wrong way, and because the plane was practically made from your conscience it burdened your mind and ruined any train of thought you may of had. your initial thought was that something must of happened outside of the plane and so you would leave to investigate.

but instead of being greeted by the scenery of your homeland, you found yourself within a library? it had the smell of old books and such but it really paled in looks. it was rather odd looking but the most questionable part was if you looked down and noticed the bundle of blankets and pillows.

for obvious reasons you were on edge. so as you cautiosly approached what you assumed to be the door out, it opened. and in having no time to draw your actual sword, you settled for the easier option. in mere matter of seconds, your polearm ghosted the side of a dark haired males neck.

the express was currently docked at the space station. himeko insited on doing a basic maintenance check after encountering a rather rough journey and dragged welt along for assistance. march had claimed to go for a walk to 'stretch her legs'. and so dan heng remained alone with the conductor who seemed awfully chatty about the most recent voyage.

so when an abrupt noise occurred - seemingly from the passenger cabins - pom pom practically shoved dan heng toward it and shut the door behind him until he found the answer. they were always scared easily. dan heng didn't expect much at first - perhaps something had fallen over somewhere. but he would have to see out his endeavour in 'keeping the conductor safe' regardless.

but it became a bit more alarming when he heard faint, rather slow, footsteps originating from the archives. perhaps it was one of the ghosts pom pom always claimed to see but did they even make footsteps?

warily he walked towards the archives, and when he finally pushed aside the door, the last thing he expected was the edge of a polearm immediately being raised to his throat. he caught your eyes rather quickly and felt rather intimidated by the sheer power you seemed to hold.

but what caught you off guard was when your polearm was violently shoved aside by the his own. he hadn't quite deemed you a threat yet, but first impressions weren't putting you in good favour. he moved forward with his own skill, trying to push you into a situation of hesitation - that way he figured answers may be more likely.

but he seemed to underestimate just how much skill you had because with one quick movement not only had you dodged his attack but yet again held him in a unfortunate circumstance. but before a word could even be spoken you felt a few pairs of eyes bearing into the back of your head.

'the conductor informed us that something was amiss', it was a rather low voice, one that suggested age and he continued 'drop the weapon and release our crewmate'. you let yourself up with little hesitation, in yet another quick move you turned and pushed the person you were holding to his friends, supposedly.

you could now see exactly who was confronting you know, an older man with glasses, a younger woman with striking red hair and a rabbit? 'whats everyone doing down here?' a rather cheery voice called out as footsteps became louder but before they could answer the newly arriving pinkette, you spoke.

you weren't one for combat surprisingly. sure you'd engage in it and if something wished to make you their enemy you'd gladly diminish their hopes of living. but you were wise to not resort to unnecessary violence, unless you really had to. and so you explained you meant no harm, you simply were startled by your abrupt arrival by no knowledge of your own - you also didn't like sharing.

you were met with the group opposites collective look of confusion before the red haired woman spoke. 'you have no recollection of how you got here? my, that's tricky' she paused before looking around 'why don't we talk elsewhere, please follow'.

you oblidged and followed the cautious group into a more open room. it seemed to contain a communal seating area which the woman insisted you sat down upon. she smiled before addressing you again and asking for your name. you felt no obligation to tell complete strangers your name, so instead you told them your puppets.

the conversation became rather one sided after that. the woman, you know knew as himeko, lead it with the man, welt, occasionally chiming in. you weren't one to share information, let alone to complete strangers and so the only information that you let them know was your puppets name (which they thought was your actual name) and that you aren't from here.

and unfortunately for you, that was most of the information they needed. between most of them they could easily figure out that something had happened to bring you into their world and somehow you needed to get back, however no body had a clue how to do so. after all the universe is vast and perhaps endless - but that meant it would contain the answers.

himeko dismissed herself and the others claiming they needed to discuss something before leaving you alone in the room. your briefly considered trying to enter your plane of euthymia and exiting again but two things stopped you - one, it may just bring you back and two, if your puppet was still in your homeland then atleast until you could get back, things wouldn't seem amiss to your residents.

and while you were thinking, the group re-entered. himeko yet again smiled before saying 'while we may not been a great help now, should you choose to join us, you can travel with us and perhaps have better luck in returning', she glanced over toward dan heng and nodding before turning back 'we are all perfectly fine with whatever decision you come to, but to note that it was him who suggested this in the first place'.

you glanced over to dan heng and he looked away, only looking back when you turned back to himeko. you couldn't help that agree that your chances of returning home would probably increase if you joined them and besides, you didn't have to form any connections with them in you did.

you weren't exactly the friendliest but it was for your own reasons. so you agreed. while you weren't exactly the most friendly and approachable person, you figured that your best chance on returning home would be to travel with these people, and they never said you would actually have to become their companion.

the only condition himeko explained to you was that because they travelled to help those that need it, if the occasion should arise then you should help them. she would also note that you probably have no issue in conflicts due to your unfortunate first encounter. which you found fair afterall, an eye for an eye.

it was safe to say that the atmosphere became rather uncomfortable to start with. himeko and the conductor granted you a spare passenger cabin until otherwise and that's where you spent most of your time. occasionally himeko or march would come and try to get to know you better but ultimately be met with a wall of silence.

however something you found valuable you heard from march was that the archives were accessible to all passengers. knowledge is proof of eternity, all things that have come before recorded down and passed along. so you decided to maybe spend some time exploring such archives.

however what you didn't really anticipate was how different the information seemed to be stored as. in your homeland everything was stored through scrolls and books or even word of mouth. but it all seemed so much more mechanical and modern. fortunately for you, in your confusion dan heng decided to return to his room.

you two hadn't talked at all since the day you arrived, so reasonably there was a bit of tension in the air. however dan heng could pick up on your confusion and pushed aside any awkward air to ask if everything was alright. you simply claimed that you were a bit confused by the archive.

'would you like some assistance?', the words came out his mouth before he could even process them, but you simply nodded and before he knew it he found himself beside you showing you all the records and such he kept organised.

you thanked him and excused yourself as you realised how long you had actually spent in the archives. he nodded before adding that you were free to visit anytime and then you left.

you didn't really sleep. you either didn't bother as in your search for eternity you didn't want to indulge in such trivial matters or you were on edge. this time, sleeping didn't really appeal to you as sleeping knowing people you barely knew surrounded you was unpleasant.

so you decided to re visit the archives. you found exploring this new world may be beneficial to your return and plus you could decide if it would be a enemy to eternity. so as you pushed open the door, you walked in and carefully closed it behind you as too not wake the other residents.

but whag you hadn't anticipated was that odd bundle of blankets and pillows now supported a body. upon squinting your eyes you recognized ot as dan heng, maybe you should return in the morning-

dan heng shot up and immediately pressed a hand to his head to wipe away any sweat he had. it was another nightmare, he didn't know why he bothered to try and sleep when that was all that tormented him. he raised his hand infront of himself trying to stop the shaking and level his breathing, then he looked to you.

his brain only recognizing your presence when he calmed down slightly. he simply said 'couldn't sleep well? or is there something you need?', he shoveled the think blanket of himself as he shakily stood up. you were no fool and knew he didn't want to talk about whatever gave him such a reaction so you simply shrugged and said you couldn't sleep.

he sat in front of the main screen and looked behind at you before saying 'wan't to read some old logs with me?'. well that was what you were here to do originally so you walked over and sat beside him. you two spent the rest of the night having dan heng recount the tales of the express and all the various logs added.

and before either of you knew it, it was morning. time seemed to pass quicker than usual afterwards however. you spent more time with dan heng and found yourself reluctantly letting him get closer to you than you would've liked and it appeared he felt the same. unfortunately neither of you wanted to push the other way despite your body screaming that this was a bad idea.

you both knew that as well. sooner or later you would have to return to your homeland. the bond that was forging would be cut short and mercilessly and you both would become yet another memory for eachother. yet neither of you could bring yourselves to stop it now before it could hurt either of you.

but it seemed time would be cut ever shorter for you. the express crew still had no leads on how to return you to your original realm but answers needed to come quick. your body wasn't reacting well to being outside the plane for this long - you had spent so long inside the plane of euthymia that your body adapted to its conditions.

but maybe the new universe was also taking a toll, you felt no longer like yourself and sometimes during the day your body would practically seize and you felt like a spectator to your own body, not the host. and the crew recognised this deteriorating condition - also chalking it up to long exposure to somewhere that wasn't your homeland.

and before any more tries to find answers could happen, you worsened even more. your body began aching and you really couldn't control your actions so you tried a last resort tactic. you placed yourself back inside of the plane of euthymia and could immediately regain control of your body.

but relief became confusion as you hear march's scream from behind you, turning round to see that you had accidentally brought the express crew into your plane aswell. you wanted to explain and help them back out into the express but the presence of your puppet became your biggest concern.

you turned round to confront your puppet and before you knew it the express crew had stood beside you. your lack if sharing now put them in danger and despite this they offered help. from your body language and maybe the polearm in your hand they could tell what you were going to do.

but you refused help, it was your puppet after all. you created it and so you knew it's weaknesses, this shouldn't become an issue. except it did. the express, especially dan heng, could only watch despite wanting to help as you fought with yourself.

but now you were slowly losing the rational parts of your brain, but before you knew it you had defeated your puppet. but your bodyy seemed to know possess a body of it's own as you became something that was not quite yourself, deciding for you that the express members were enemies of eternity.

you didn't mean to attack them, and they didn't mean to attack back. they wanted to help you desperately - despite your lack of interaction with most they still came to cherish you as the temporary addition to their little family. even if you didn't share, they didn't care. but now they wished you did share more often.

the fight was exhausting for both parties. you wanted to stop, to npt destroy the companions you reluctantly built over the time you'd spent with them but your mind and body weren't cooperating. and dan heng wanted to help you more than ever.

and because he hadn't pushed you away, he hadn't refused himself entirely in building a bond with you he knew how to help. he ignored the shouts for him to stay back as he had faith you wouldn't hurt him. he knew that you were still in there and he'd be dammned should he not help.

you fought so hard to not attack him. to not damage yet another relationship you had built and instead let him get ever closer. and even now as your body fell back to its original state, you could grasp why you subconsciously let him get closer even if you knew he'd leave eventually. because now you still had no way home. and as dan heng laid his head upon your shoulder, you could only think on why you shouldn't indulge in this comfort a little longer, even if this eternity was not possible.

[too-antigonish]

This scene is so much better with the Stones than without. Why is international music licensing so insanely messed up and expensive!!??!!?!?! There should not have to be a separate international version of the soundtrack!

Ok so yeah I’m still stuck on “Passenger”.

But I LOVE this clip, the music is just fucking perfect for that almost-strut. Get it, Endeavour.

[upthelagan]

Ronnie Box. Endeavour, Passenger.

[catwyk]

rating silt verses characters based on how flexible i think they are

carpenter: can touch her toes without bending her knees but thats it. her bones click and crunch for 40 minutes after. 4/10

faulkner: legs flexible enough to curl up in the passenger seat to sleep while carpenter drives, but his spine is like every other vertebra fused together. definitely embarrassed about it. 2/10 purely for pillbug imitation ability

paige: did pilates or yoga or something while she had her job, but only infrequently. can almost put her hands flat on the floor while standing with straight knees. almost. 7/10

hayward: has never stretched in his life 1/10

raine: has tried to establish a stretching routine many times and so far has achieved no more than a week of consistency. this endeavour has granted them clicky shoulders and the ability to JUST BARELY put their forehead on their knees when they sit down with straight legs. 8/10

shrue: has attended maybe 2 mandatory wellness/networking sessions involving yoga or pilates and considered them both a waste of time. 3/10

greve, roemont, mason: too old to stretch without dust and dead skin falling off 1/10

acantha: surprisingly lithe considering how much she has to do and how old she is, but doesnt have time to properly stretch. 5/10

brother wharfing: has too many wounds and illnesses to do anything. 1/10

mercer and gage: always crouching and squeezing through gaps. very flexible but only in certain joints. 7/10

sister thurrocks: wants to be more flexible but forgets to stretch. 3/10

devreaux: self explanatory 1/10

sebastian: could sit down with straight legs and touch his toes, but nothing more. too busy to stretch anyways. 3/10

nana glass: shockingly flexible for her age and lifestyle. shes where carpenter gets it from. 7/10

vaughn: naturally flexible but doesnt care to put in any effort to cultivate it. 4/10

stanton: old man. 1/10

charity: puts in some effort. good for her. 7/10

charity's boyfriend: nah. 2/10

daggler: thinks stretching is for girls. despite sexism not seemig to factor hugely in the universe of tsv daggler has invesnted misogyny. 1/10

[jamminvroomvroom]

you bring blue lights. part 3

ln x fem!reader

read part 1: a golf swing and a trampoline

read part 2: karma rules!

FINAL PART! i hate it! what else is new? hopefully this wraps things up nicely. thank u for the luv on the other two parts, biiiiiig hugs from me to you MWAH xoxox note: heads up, the max in this series is max fewtrell lmao.

song: little freak by harry styles

in which lando goes back to work and takes you along for the ride. and max is there too. because why wouldn’t he be?

warnings: 18+ pls!! nothing major tbh, smut (mostly implied), bit of angst, bit of fluff, language, anxiety, the worlds most minor f1 incident, max being a snarky little bitch (affectionate)

4.8k words

the colour blue can symbolise many things: bravery and healing. the calm. wisdom and depth. sadness and serenity. permanence.

-

you weren’t sure what to make of the weather in bahrain. it wasn’t too hot, nor was it cold, but lando was still wearing a hoodie nonetheless. you sat in the passenger seat of the rented volvo, the mild temperature unable to reach you here, especially not with the quadrant hoodie draped over your shoulders. you wanted to shrug it off, the material that once symbolised an unbreakable friendship now resting uncomfortably, a weight, a reminder, but you were there to support your boyfriend, in his every endeavour.

your eyes could have watered, but you blinked, uncontrollably almost, refocusing your gaze onto the centre console, where lando’s large hand held yours. he squeezed once, twice, drawing your eyes from your laced fingers onto his.

you realised then that he’d been murmuring your name, his eyebrows furrowed, concerned. the last thing he needed to worry about today was you. it was quali day in bahrain, the first of the season, and you were sat next to a man on a mission. pull yourself together, woman. you smiled, your lips stretching unconvincingly, the corner of your mouth twitching. this couldn’t be classed as anxiety anymore, it went far beyond that. he sighed, deflated already.

“listen, if you’re not ready to do this…”

“i am. i am!” your voice was abnormally high pitched, and lando wondered where his cool as a cucumber girlfriend had gone. you hated the worry that clouded his sky-grey eyes.

it was your first time in the paddock, and naturally, you were a wreck. a picturesque mess. you’d picked out a nice outfit, something that made you look put together without trying too hard, classy without looking like you were leeching off of lando. you knew what they’d say about you, otherwise. they were already saying it. he’d tried his hardest to keep you hidden but the internet was ablaze with theories and questions and lies and judgement, so he’d suggested that you come to bahrain, viewing it as a perfect opportunity to break the ice with the media and the fans.

it had been finalised and you’d been mentally preparing yourself since the moment you’d decided to attend. but when he turned up to your apartment one day after a meeting, an anxious, babbling mess, you wondered if you’d made a mistake.

it turned out that the bahrain grand prix was a team quadrant event.

with your ticket booked, you’d chosen to suck it up, business as usual, but the idea of a weekend caught between two men that hated each other was not your idea of a good time, especially not when you were the problem. the morning that max had caught you, bare legged and lovesick in lando’s kitchen, would probably haunt you as long as you lived.

lando was angry and max? max was furious. now, they’d both just gone cold.

-

there was a stillness in the kitchen, ice cold all of the sudden, all of the warmth of you and him gone. you felt like a child caught in the act, nowhere to run. lando looked pale, afraid, utterly distraught. your eyes flicked between him and max, waiting for the dam to break; who would crack first? you couldn’t bare it, lips parting in a whisper.

“max-“ you barely heard yourself but max heard you perfectly, melancholic disgust in his eyes as they flitted to you. you felt small. you felt sick.

“don’t.” he barked. you sunk into yourself, shaking slightly. lando didn’t like that, stepping forward.

“listen to me, we-“ lando started.

“don’t you fucking dare.” max took a deep breath, shaking his head as if to compose himself. it wasn’t working. his eyes glazed over. “you’re not even sorry, are you?” he was looking straight at lando now, as if you weren’t even there.

lando’s lack of response spoke volumes. max cracked, a mixture of disbelief and disappointment shining through the rage. you held your breath. max turned to you, searching for solace, remorse, anything. you looked away.

“you two deserve each other.” max spat.

the slamming of the door made you wince.

-

lando felt selfish the second you touched down in bahrain. he watched your leg bounce on the plane, in the car, sat on the edge of the hotel bed, and wondered if this was all too much too soon. he needed you, but did you need this? the media, the fans? him? he ached watching you stare at your intertwined fingers sat on the centre console, your eyes glistening.

he was so, so selfish, a point proven over and over, and you were everything but. you were here, living proof of the fact.

the quadrant hoodie you wore, the bright blue contrasting with how you’d paled the second he’d parked the car, reminded lando of his crimes. you were blue, too, his calm amongst the chaos, an ocean that he thanked every god he could think of that he got to explore. you were a serenity, a serendipity, his bright blue light that kept him grounded.

if he’d ever doubted it before, he knew he loved you, completely and utterly, when you took a deep breath and got out of that car.

-

you let lando lead the way, a few steps ahead. you wondered if he could feel you shaking. you let go of him briefly, to scan your pass and slide through the gate, but he was reaching for you instantly. his thumb rubbed the soft skin of your hand, soothing you as the flashes of the cameras began to creep in the further you made it in to the paddock. you stared ahead, keeping your face as neutral as possible, letting him tow you along.

you stumbled when he stopped to take a picture with a fan, signing another’s hat, taking the moment to gather yourself. you became all too aware of your surroundings, the sheer amount of cameras pointed in your direction making you nauseous. as your hard exterior began to crumble, you felt his arm hook over your shoulder, a firm kiss planted on your forehead as you fell into step beside him once more.

“you got this, baby.” he murmured. you couldn’t help but smile up at him, finally feeling a small sense of ease. lando smiled back at you, and suddenly you wanted to frame every single stupid pictures they were taking of you both.

“so do you.” you grinned. he smiled bashfully. you knew how much this weekend meant to him.

you made your way into the mclaren hospitality, keeping close to lando. you sighed, relieved to be away from the cameras, and he introduced you to some members of his team, letting you make small talk while he spoke to his engineers.

you were intrigued watching him fall into the zone, calm, at ease, immersed into his world. you didn’t miss the way he kept an eye on you as he made his rounds. he ushered you over, pulling you deeper into the building, greeting people along the way. soon, you found yourself being led into his drivers room.

lando placed his bag on the table, small smile on his face as he moved around the room. you hoisted yourself up onto the massage table, swinging your legs, content in just watching him in his natural habitat.

“what are you smiling about, hmm?” you asked, eyebrow quirked.

“just you, being here. it’s nice.” he crossed the room and closed the gap, hands smoothing over your thighs as he parted them to stand between your legs.

“i like seeing you like this, you know. like watching you.” you placed your hands over his.

“oh, i know, love. always catch you staring.” he smirked.

“in that case, maybe i’ll just go back to the hotel.” you turned your head dramatically, leaning away from him.

“don’t be like that, you’d be lonely in that big bed without me.” he teased.

“i’m sure i could find a way to entertain myself.” you smirked at him, a frustrated groan emitting from the back of his throat as he grinned down at you.

“you’re cruel.” he murmured, giving into his desire and closing the gap.

you smiled against his lips, gripping hard at the material of his hoodie to pull him closer. his hands moved over the crease in your thighs, pulling at your hips as he kissed you harder. you threaded your fingers through his curls, tongue brushing his bottom lip. you enjoyed the noises he made, the low hum that vibrated against your mouth. your flushed body ran cold at the sudden rattling of the door handle.

you had no time to react when the door swung open, jon nonchalantly walking in, talking over his shoulder to a tired looking max and niran. your blood ran cold, hit by a sickening sense of deja vu that had you burying your face in lando’s chest. you felt lando vibrate as he cleared his throat, jon stopping in his tracks.

“shit.” jon grimaced, realising. “sorry, i- we didn’t know you were in here, someone said you were in the garage, didn’t mean to walk in on you like, uh, this.” he rambled awkwardly. a scoff from somewhere behind him made lando tense up, your eyes squeezing shut in discomfort.

“not like it’s the first time.” max muttered.

“i just came to pick up your schedule, sorry mate.” jon quickly cut in. you dared to look, peeking out from lando’s hoodie. niran was staring at the ceiling, quite clearly wishing he was somewhere else. you wished you were there too. max had his arms crossed, looking around the room. you couldn’t work out why he’d come in here.

max caught you staring, eyes hardening immediately as he took in the way your fingers curled into the material of lando’s hoodie, of lando’s hands on your hips. you could visualise the flashbacks he must have been having. he turned on his heel, leaving without another word, and you sighed. niran threw you a sympathetic smile, awkwardly waiting for jon who’d finally found the paper he was looking for, and then you and lando were alone again.

you looked up at him, noticing the way his jaw was tensed, the way his eyes had darkened, cold all of the sudden. he didn’t need this kind of stress, not when he was hours away from getting in the car. this season had no room for error, not when his new teammate was tipped to perform well, not when he was the new leader. you wondered if your being there was right.

“hey, its okay. maybe i should just go back to the hotel today, hm?” you suggested softly. his dark expression switched to one of vulnerability.

“no, no. you shouldn’t have to leave because he can’t be a grown up.” lando shook his head, frustration evident in his tone.

“you’ve got an important day ahead, babe. last thing we need is you being surrounded by all this,” you gestured around the room. “negativity.” you reasoned. his face fell further, hands moving to cup your cheeks.

“none of this is your fault, okay? you’re the only one i want here. let him sulk. i tried to fix it and he wouldn’t have it.”

“we hurt him, lando. it is my fault.” you averted eye contact as you spoke.

“hey, look at me. look at me.” you met his eyes again, which had warmed up significantly as he gazed at you. “i want you here. i need you here. don’t let him get to you. he’ll be doing work stuff anyway, you’ll hardly see him. i want you to be a part of his, okay? try and have some fun.”

you sighed, realising that your desire to be near lando, to support him, outweighed the guilt you felt towards max. after all, as cruel as it may have been, that’s why you’d chosen lando. that’s why you were here, every discomfort that you felt pushed aside. you nodded your head, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“now, i need to get changed. try not to stare too much, darling.” he pecked your lips, tension melting away as the smirk returned.

you pushed him away playfully, choosing to scroll through your phone as he started to prepare himself, letting your eyes wander occasionally. he’d wink every time he caught you looking.

despite the blush on your cheeks and the smile you couldn’t contain, you couldn’t help the bad feeling that crept in, lurking at the corner of your happiness. this would be a long weekend.

-

lando busied himself with his race suit, changing quickly. every time he looked up, throwing you a wink, he pretended that he wasn’t spiralling. he could see you thinking too hard, worrying, acting like you weren’t. all he wanted was for you to have a nice time with him, experience something so important to him, and already that idea, that visual of you becoming a bigger part of his world, it was crumbling all around him.

he let himself be angry at max sometimes, framing him as the source of your anxiety, but that was just a pitstop he made before he placed the blame back where it belonged; this was all lando’s fault. but this mess, this chaos, this love? he was willing to pay for his mistakes forever if it meant that every race weekend started and ended in your arms.

and so, lando did what lando did best. he kissed his girlfriend, got in his car, and made his way into Q3.

-

lando had qualified well, better than what had been expected, hugging you right when he’d bounded into the garage. you’d been surprised at how nervous it made you, watching him drive out of the garage and onto the track. you found yourself unable to take your eyes off him on the screen ahead of you, nails chewed down anxiously for the entire session. you clung to him, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. you allowed yourself to kiss him, just a quick peck, settling.

you let him leave once more, comforted by the fact that his biggest danger now was the media that awaited him, and navigated yourself out of the garage. you couldn’t pretend you weren’t a little bit lost in the winding corridors, but finally you stumbled out of the tunnel, the one your boyfriend always tapped the top of, a superstition, and into the sunlight. you hovered in the entrance, staring out at the bustle of the paddock.

it felt so surreal, overwhelming to be here for lando. with him, at last. you just couldn’t seem to shake the fear you felt watching him get in the car. the thought of the impending race made you nauseous.

as you stood there blocking the entrance, lost in your thoughts and the complexities of your relationship, you were reminded of the only hurdle it faced, at the unimpressed clearing of someone’s throat.

you turned quickly on your heel at the noise, snapped out of your thoughts. you gulped.

“can i get past, please?” max asked, refusing the eye contact that you were desperately trying to make. you didn’t miss the way his eyes rolled at the sight of the blue quadrant hoodie covering your frame.

“i should probably let you, shouldn’t i?” you smiled, weakly, a feeble attempt at breaking the ice.

all max did was nod ever so slightly.

“will you talk to me?” you took note of just how pathetic you sounded.

“i can’t, i have somewhere to be.” he said, quiet with emotion, careful with his tone.

“just a minute, please max.” he flinched at his name falling from your traitorous tongue.

“i can’t do this right now.” he tried to side step you, but you blocked him.

“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry. if you believe anything, believe that.” you begged.

“i don’t know what to believe anymore.”

you didn’t fight him again, defeated as you watched him walk away.

-

you seemed different when lando found you later after the media rush, in the quiet of the paddock. you seemed sad, although you kept it carefully concealed. he noticed the way you held his hand tighter, kissed him softer. he wanted to get you out of the paddock, away from it all, take you back to the hotel where he could touch you and hold you and take away this dull pain.

he prayed that you weren’t getting too blue, that you wouldn’t go cold in his presence, the more you adapted to the bittersweet realities of his lifestyle.

he wondered if his anxieties were misplaced when you kissed him with everything you had and tumbled into the white bed linen with him, burning for one another.

lando reminded himself that you were still here. he knew all too well that you didn’t stay for just anyone.

-

lando looked beautiful when he was asleep. he was always so busy, always on the go, so you cherished these mornings dearly. a stream of sunlight made its way over the sheets, creeping up his body, bathing him in warmth. you hadn’t shut the curtains properly, urgently falling into bed with him, but you were thankful for it now as he stirred. the only thing better than watching the soft rise and fall of his chest was watching him wake up.

his eyes fluttered open, his arm stretching out and over your waist. you gazed at the blue-green of his eyes, rolling over and into his side. you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, engulfed by the heat of his bare skin pressed against yours. you stayed there quietly, letting him wake up.

suddenly, he let out a groan, rolling on top of you, curls falling in his eyes. you’d told him one night in dubai, after a cocktail too many, that he should grow his hair out. you’d whispered something seductive in his ear about having more to pull on. he’d quickly taken you back to your suite, and happily obliged with your request ever since.

you’d spent last night in a similar situation, pouncing on him immediately when you’d gotten back from the track. a day spent watching him drive had riled you up, and paired with your neediness, you were gagging for it by the time you got him alone. lando pulled you out of your daydream with a kiss, his body melting into yours.

“what’s on your mind?” his voice was low, gravelly from where he’d just woken up.

“nothing, just thinking.” you mused. he leaned in closer, lips brushing yours.

“about what? because i’m still thinking about last night.” lando murmured. you smiled coyly up at him.

“why? what happened last night?” you faked confusion, eyebrow raised.

“this beautiful woman could not keep her hands to herself.” lando feigned shock.

“that must have been so difficult for you.” your voice oozed sarcasm.

“it was very hard.” he grinned, devilish, leaning down to kiss you again.

you could feel the press of his body, every inch of his warm skin against yours. your hand slid softly across his face, brushing his curls back, tugging gently at the strands as his lips left yours and trailed down your jaw.

the air got hotter, charged, when he nipped at your neck, your collarbone, and dug his fingers into your hip, kneading your soft edges. your mouth hung open, panting slightly in anticipation, skin alight as his hand worked across the crease of your thigh. lando gripped your inner thigh, spreading you open, letting his fingers run rampant.

he continued to mouth at your shoulder, biting down gently as he found your clit, the medley of pleasure and pain making your eyes roll back. the rest of your morning was a blur.

lips on yours, fingers working you open. his name, a prayer. your legs, wrapped around him, numb. sweat and bliss, you and him. your legs shook, vision bleary.

lando was all yours, belonged to you, your name tearing sweetly from the depths of him as he let himself get lost.

you stared up at him, breathless and grinning.

-

lando had one singular thought when he managed to pull himself from the crook of your neck, languid and tingling. between the chaos and the quiet, you found a way to bring him back to earth, gleaming blue.

i love you.

-

“are you looking forward to the race?” you’d heard him ask.

it had been quiet for a while, your unrelenting bout of morning sex leaving you a tangled, sleepy mess.

“i don’t know.” brutal honestly seemed to be your forte.

“ouch.” he teased.

“i don’t know how to be okay with watching you.” it was the realest thing you’d said to lando all weekend, mumbled into his collarbone where you hid your face.

“you’ve seen me race.” he shifted, as if he was trying to find your face, your eyes, voice laced with confusion.

“yeah, but that was before.”

“before what?”

“just…before.”

before i knew what you meant to me.

before i broke your best friends heart.

before i fell in love with you.

-

you spent the duration of the formation lap looking for the nearest exit, telling yourself that you were being ridiculous, and wondering how every other loved one coped every race weekend. to your surprise, max was stood on the other side of the garage. you figured he would have chosen to be anywhere else, but his fingers drumming against the countertop, in an identical fashion to yours, made you wonder if he shared the pit in your stomach.

your eyes flitted around nervously, taking short breaths as the cars lined up on the grid. five lights went on, and then out, and you held your breath.

lando made it through turn one, turn two. through lap one, lap 17, lap 34. he was having a good race, a great one even, the byproduct of a strong start, his race craft and a calculated strategy. you made the mistake of starting to relax.

you gasped when an alpine tagged his car. one hand flew to your mouth, the other gripping the wire of your headphones in sheer, gut-twisting panic. your eyes fixed on the screen, watching him spin, spin, spin across the track. you were frozen, utterly unmoving, time stopping around you until his car suddenly did out on track.

he was fine.

he skidded to a halt, making his way safely back onto the track, carrying on as normal. he was completely, totally fine.

you burst into tears.

you heard the headphones clatter gently against the surface top, a blur through your tears, and quickly left the garage. you blindly made your way through the stupid, little corridors and back into that tunnel that led to the paddock. you slumped against the metal wall, sobbing, no use in wiping your free flowing tears. how were you supposed to do it, to live this life, holding your breath every time lando went to work?

you heard footsteps approaching, a pang of embarrassment flashing in the pit of your stomach that made you want to disappear. you took a shaky breath, wondering how you could possibly escape, when you heard the footsteps coming to a halt, the mystery person stopping. you looked up shyly, blinking away tears. you were shocked to see max was stood opposite you, leant against the wall behind him. he sighed.

“stuff like that happens. he’s fine, you know?” max reassured you. you couldn’t quite believe that he was here, let alone offering you some shred of comfort. the tears made a comeback.

“how do people do this? i barely made it through turn one.” you sniffled, voice cracking.

“you just learn to live with it. that fear that you’re feeling, it never quite goes away. but watching him succeed? it becomes worth it.” max spoke with a quiet admiration, one that made your heart ache. you were reminded of just how human he was.

“what if i can’t do it? the idea of something happening to him…” you trailed off, shaking your head.

“i can’t believe i’m about to say this but,” max sighed once more, reluctant to admit what he’d come to realise. “he needs you here. and i know you, you wouldn’t be doing any of this with him if you didn’t want to. if i believe anything, it’s that.”

you looked down at his words, the echo of yesterdays run-in ringing in your ears. he knew all too well that you wouldn’t be in a relationship that you didn’t want to be in. the guilt crept back in.

“i didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did.” your voice wavered.

“well, you can’t help who you fall in love with.” max shrugged.

“what?” your head snapped up to look at him, blindsided by his words. was it so obvious?

“what? you do love him, don’t you?” max asked, confused.

“i, well, we haven’t- i mean, i haven’t-“ you rambled.

“don’t tell me you guys fucked me over for nothing.” max teased. you looked up at him like a rabbit in headlights. he laughed at your expression, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. you joined in, laughing with him as the tears finally dried up.

“you should tell him.”

“if i do that, are you gonna hate me even more than you already do?”

“i don’t- i could never hate you.” max’s gaze softened. “and as much as i’d love to right now, i could never hate him, either.” he rolled his eyes.

“talk to him?” you suggested, cautious. max smiled.

“don’t push your luck this weekend.” he grinned. “you ready to go back in there? the race is pretty much over.”

you nodded, smiled, walking alongside him in comfortable silence back into the garage. the team were elated, a decent recovery made after the shambles of last season, but all you could focus on was how desperate you were to see lando. max walked back to the desk where he’d been watching the race, throwing you a reassuring wink. you smiled softly.

-

max was the first person that lando really saw when he entered the garage. the air seemed to have thinned out, lighter, somehow. he’d ask questions later.

max smiled, small. lando could barely contain the grin he returned the olive branch with.

something clicked, somewhere deep in his chest, and the healing process began. in progress, finally, slowly but surely.

lando inhaled, and for the first time in forever, it felt easy. he almost couldn’t remember what that felt like.

then, lando saw you, a bright blue light, starlike, his beacon, waiting for him in the corner of the garage. he weaved his way through the sea of people until he was secure in your arms.

-

oscar walked in first, the team cheering him on after his first race. lando followed soon after, getting his own celebration. you watched on, a warmth filling your chest; you knew max was right. you watched lando walk through the garage, met with slaps on the back, ruffles of his messy curls. he smiled wide, wider somehow when his eyes landed on max. it was a welcome surprise, one that drenched you in relief.

lando’s eyes darted around until he found you, catching you staring from the back of the room. he made a beeline to you, engulfing you in a hug. his eyebrows furrowed, confused, perhaps, at your puffy cheeks and red eyes, but your hands flew to his cheeks, lips meeting his. he kissed you back, smiling against your lips. you pulled back, grinning up at him.

“are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispered.

“i’m just so proud of you.” you murmured.

“i’m so glad that you’re here.” he gently squeezed your waist, nose bumping yours.

“i need to tell you something.” your stomach twisted, this time in excitement; butterflies.

“what?”

“i love you, lando.” his whole face changed, his smile bigger than you’d ever seen it.

“i love you.” he replied, cupping your face. his thumbs grazed your cheekbones. “god, you have no idea how much i…” he trailed off, searching your eyes for a moment before he kissed you again, deep and slow. the tears that hit your cheeks weren’t your own, and you held him even tighter.

you broke apart, his head falling into the crook of your neck, hot kisses pressed to the exposed skin. your fingers ran though his hair, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck.

over lando’s shoulder, you could see max, hint of a smile on his face. your eyes watered again, meeting his across the garage, and he smiled, properly.

all the pieces fell, messily, into place.

-

max watched on, aching at the way you clung to lando, your hands in his hair, lando’s lips pressed so intimately to the delicate skin of your neck. max felt a dull sense of happiness sneak in; you and lando were the picture of what love was supposed to look like. you’d never looked at him the way he’d always caught you looking at lando.

it didn’t hurt any less yet, but he was starting to realise that it would.

-

thank fuck that’s over

-

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