#If you want to write this I encourage you to do so

[trashytracktales]

Heyy girliee, first of all I want to say that your writing is absolutely amazing. I’ve been reading your Lando fics for the past couple of days and “endings, beginnings” had me feeling butterflies in my stomach 🫢 I wanted to ask you if you could write something about lando and reader being friends but constantly having sexual tension building up between them. Maybe they flirt with each other but never think of it as something so serious and one night after a party they completely destroy each other. I fully trust you with this and how you’ll develop the story haha and don’t hold back. Thank youuu :*

Think twice | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for the love on Endings, beginnings & I appreciate you for taking the time to share this. Hope you like it 🤍🎀

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𐙚 summary ──── What starts as a chill party, where they sit in their old habits, ends with new boundaries crossed and a heavy tension they can no longer ignore.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, friends to lovers, bit of jealous!Lando, smut, slight teasing, praising, fingering & oral (sit on it), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

𐙚 word count ──── 4.8k

𐙚 date ──── Jan. 21, 2025

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THE TWO OF them are always standing next to each other, no matter the room they’re in. The context, just like the reason why this happens, is redundant. Plus, they don’t even do it on purpose; rather, they are unconsciously drawn to each other like two magnets.

The party has finally slowed to a lazy hum, the music just a tolerable background noise now. People linger in clusters around them, their voices a distant murmur blending with the faint bassline of a forgotten playlist. The living room is dim, lit mostly by the glow of a string of fairy lights drooping across the ceiling.

It was supposed to be a small gathering, but then a friend told a friend, and that friend told their friends. And now, it’s almost impossible to find a private spot to catch your breath without breathing someone else’s air.

Somehow, they did. They are tucked into the corner of a couch, their space a small bubble of comfort. Her legs are draped over his lap, bare skin warm against the fabric of his black jeans. He’s cradling her calf in one hand, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her skin.

Her fingers thread through his curls at the back of his head, twirling them lazily. It’s a casual gesture, but it sends a shiver through him every time she does it.

Their conversation shifted into easy gossiping about a mutual friend — someone they both think is trying a bit too hard with their Instagram posts.

“It’s fucking obvious he’s fishing for attention,” says Lando, sounding almost conspiratorial.

“I know, right? The cryptic ass captions, the mirror selfies. He thinks he’s smooth with it, too,” she replies, giggling at the thought.

Lando grins, his thumb still tracing circles on her leg. The banter feels safe, the kind of effortless connection they’ve always had. But underneath it, there’s a quiet tension that neither of them is ready to address. Because they are, maybe, a bit tipsy, or because none of them has ever had the courage to take it further, for some reason.

“Alright, I need to pee,” she announces suddenly, getting ready to stand.

But Lando tightens his grip on her legs, his lips twitching in a smirk. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” she insists, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “If I don’t go, I might pee on you.”

Lando shrugs, “Go ahead. Then I might discover a new kink,” he encourages her.

“New?” she laughs. “That implies you already have at least one.”

Lando winks at her without saying a word, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous smile.

She rolls her eyes, smiling back at his immature behavior. “My God. You’re actually the worst. Move.”

He doesn’t. Instead, Lando, just stares at her with an expression that’s visibly different. His usual playful gaze has shifted to something more intense, and she tells herself he’s just a little... intoxicated. Still, it makes her heart skip a beat, because he looks so adorable when his eyes focus on something so intently. And so hot, that it makes her almost forget why she wanted to get up in the first place.

“Lan, I’m not joking, I actually have to go,” she whispers, her voice softer now.

He exhales, loosening his grip but not before giving her leg a small, reluctant squeeze.

“Don’t get lost,” he says, the words carrying more weight than they should.

She shakes her head, slipping off the couch and disappearing into the hallway. Lando watches her go, his eyes trailing after her like he’s afraid she might actually not come back.

Which is ridiculous, because he should not care. There are lots of other girls that he can take home tonight if he wants to.

Want, being the keyword.

Leaning back against the couch, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s always known she was the embodiment of the perfect girl for him — funny, kind, and loyal. But tonight, there’s something else in the air that makes his mind wander. The way she carries herself, her laugh, the way she makes everything around her seem brighter.

Lando realized long ago that he wants to he in her presence. The truth hit him like a punch in the gut. And he still feels that punch sometimes, especially when he sees her interacting with other people. Especially men.

He’s had thoughts about her before. Many thoughts. Wild fantasies he brushed off as nothing more than fleeting curiosity. And they’ve joked about it, too, their drunken ‘if we’re single at 35’ pact a favorite running gag. But tonight, it doesn’t feel like a joke — he might actually marry her if she keeps letting him invade her personal space like that. Except she wouldn’t have let Lando do that if she didn’t want him there.

He finds himself smiling at his own thoughts. But then, an unwanted stiffness claws his body.

She’s on the way back when a guy leaning against the wall near the bathroom is blocking her path. He’s tall, too close for Lando’s liking, and he is gesturing animatedly. She’s always too polite, smiling as she talks, but Lando notices the way she shifts her weight, edging away slightly.

Something close to jealousy ignites in his chest, but he manages to tame the feeling by looking away, and forcing himself to take a slow sip of his drink. She can handle herself, he knows that. But he’s also ready to step in, just in case he needs to. Most men don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and he’s aware of how insistent some of them can be.

When she finally returns, Lando’s mood has shifted drastically, and she notices it the second she looks at him.

“Hey, you good?” she asks, plopping back down and swinging her legs over his lap again.

“Yeah,” he says shortly, his hand resuming its absent stroking on her shin.

Her brows knit together. “Not you lying to me. Come on, Landinho, what’s with you?”

“Nothing,” he insists, but his tone is clipped, and his eyes won’t quite meet hers.

She punches his arm lightly, trying to break through whatever wall he’s just put up. “You sure?”

He looks at her then, and the vulnerability in his gaze takes her breath away. “Sure,” he says. But his hand tightens slightly on her leg, like he’s holding onto her in more ways than one.

Her heart clenches. Lando is her friend, the one person she can always count on, but in this moment, she feels the air between them growing in different direction. It’s not the first time, and it doesn’t make her uncomfortable, but it’s not easy for her to sit in it, either.

“You’re being weird,” she states, trying to lighten the mood, but her voice wavers.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, forcing a small smile. “Just tired,” adds Lando, but there’s something he hides behind his eyes, something that makes her chest ache.

She studies his face, her teasing words dying on her lips. His eyes are heavy-lidded, the usual spark dulled by the late hour and maybe one drink too many. His movements are slow, lazy, his thumb still caressing her skin.

“I can see that,” she says gently, sliding her legs off his lap. “Up. Come with me?”

The sudden loss of contact pulls him out of his haze, “Where?” asks Lando, his voice faintly slurred with exhaustion.

“Do you trust me?” she replies with a knowing smile, standing up and extending a hand to him. “My god, Lando. My friend gave me keys to one of the rooms upstairs in case I wanted to crash.”

He hesitates, glancing at her outstretched hand before finally letting out a soft laugh and taking it.

They make their way upstairs, the faint thump of music growing quieter with each step. The room isn’t far, tucked at the end of a hallway. She unlocks the door, revealing a small but cozy space. The room is dimly lit, with a single bedside lamp casting a muted glow over the single bed that’s pressed against one wall, a small dresser, and an armchair in the corner.

Lando steps in behind her, the faint hum of the party fading as the door clicks shut. His gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the space. She lingers by the door for a moment, turning the key with a soft click, locking them in; the sound feels final, and heavier than it should.

Lando notices the bed immediately, his eyes narrowing briefly before he rubs the back of his neck, a gesture that betrays his unease. His voice is low and uncertain as he says, “You know what, I can crash on the couch downstairs. It’s fine.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving into a small smile as she watches him fidget. “You can,” she agrees, knowing that Lando has the superpower to fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place or how loud the background noise is. “Unfortunately, I locked the door,” she adds with fake concern in her voice.

Lando glances at her, his expression caught somewhere between playful and wary. “Yeah. You can unlock it, though.”

“But I won’t,” she replies, her smile softening, her words carrying an unspoken challenge that Lando catches immediately.

His lips part, and for a moment, he says nothing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Then, quietly, his voice dipping lower, he says, “Then don’t.”

His words linger between them, and she feels the weight of his gaze as it shifts to her. There’s no teasing in his expression now, no trace of the lighthearted Lando she’s used to.

She lets her arms fall to her side, her pulse quickening.

Lando’s chest rises and falls steadily, though there’s a tautness to his posture. His gaze darts back to the bed, then to her, and she swears she sees a flicker of something in his eyes — fear? Desire? Anticipation?

His jaw tightens, his eyes searching hers, and she feels the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on them both. Every glance, every touch, every joke that lingered a second too long — it’s all there, bubbling to the surface.

The tension between them that has simmered for months, maybe even years, suddenly feels unbearable. Lando’s eyes meet hers once again, and the quiet resolve in her gaze breaks something inside him. And then, suddenly, a glance he catches from her it’s all it takes. The restraint he’s held onto for so long snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. Before he knows it, he’s closing the gap between them, his hands cupping her face as his lips crash against hers.

She responds instantly, her hands tangling in his curls as she pulls him closer. The kiss is all-consuming, months of buried feelings and unsaid words spilling out in a rush. It’s intoxicating, a heavy blend of alcohol and the faint sweetness of her cherry lip balm. His lips are soft, impossibly so, molding against hers like they were made to fit. The taste of him is dizzying, a perfect balance of warmth and want, and each movement of his mouth sends sparks of heat rippling through her.

It’s overwhelming, the way Lando kisses her — gentle, but with a growing intensity that leaves her breathless, her heart pounding as if it’s trying to match the rhythm of his. His fingers trail down to her neck, squeezing lightly and pulling her against him as they stumble backward toward the bed.

“Do you know how long—” he begins against her lips, his voice rough with need.

“Too long,” she cuts him off with another kiss while her fingers are rushing to tug at the hem of his shirt.

Lando groans as they tumble onto the bed. Their breaths are loud and uneven, filling the small space as their lips crash together again, need and desire fueling every movement. Her palm presses against the small of his back, coaxing him between her legs. He instinctively follows her guidance, his body lowering against hers until his forehead rests on hers. At that, Lando sighs, not with frustration but a soft exasperation that halts them both.

“Are we… okay?” he asks, half-amused and half-concerned. “We shouldn’t—we should not do this. Not like this.”

She doesn’t release him, her hands still on his sides, her legs loosely wrapped around him. “We are,” she assures him, her voice calm but insistent. “It’s just us, Lando.”

His brows furrow, his lips parting in disbelief. “I know. I just don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and—”

Her hands move to his face, cupping it firmly and forcing him to look directly at her. “Regret it?” the girl asks, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “Don’t be silly. You know this isn’t about tonight. I’ve wanted you for a while now. I know you do, too.”

His eyes flicker with something raw, and he swallows hard. “I do,” he agrees. “But. It’d be such a waste to mess it up.”

The weight of his confession settles over them, and he falls onto the mattress beside her. For a moment, they both stare up at the ceiling, their fingers brushing tentatively before intertwining. It’s quiet, save for the hum of the party faintly bleeding through the walls.

And then, “You’re such a good kisser, by the way,” she finally breaks the silence.

He lets out a chuckle, visibly affected. “You’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m already messed up because of you, Lan,” she confesses, turning onto her side, her fingers finding his arm and tracing slow patterns along its length. “I trust us. No matter the outcome.”

Her hand travels to his chest, her fingers brushing lightly over his collarbone before moving to his jaw. She traces the line of it, her touch light but electrifying. Finally, her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her gaze following her movements so closely, as if she wants to devour him.

Their thoughts run wild, revisiting every stolen glance, the tension, the want — it’s always been there. Every moment brought them here.

And now?

“Do you, really?” asks Lando, his voice laced with curiosity.

She nods, her hands sliding down to rest over his, her fingers curling around his. “Completely. I trust us to figure it out as we go. Don’t you?”

He lets her words settle, a warmth spreading through his body. He does. But he still has to think twice before agreeing to something so drastic, especially when he is faced with something he wants so badly that it makes him burn with impatience.

Finally, Lando sighs, looking at her.

“It’s not a big deal, right?” she says with a quiet laugh, her voice tinged with both affection and relief. “We’ve always been good at just... being us.”

He smiles at that, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “That’s true. We’re pretty fucking great at that.”

Lando’s breathing hitches as she guides his hand to her ass, pressing it against her curves with an undeniable confidence. His grip tightens instinctively, and she drapes a leg over his waist, pulling herself closer. Their eyes lock, her fingers tracing his features, as if committing every contour to memory. They’ve never been so close to each other, and the intimacy of the moment makes his heart race, while hers almost melts under the warmth of his body.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he admits matter-of-factly.

Her lips curl into a faint smile. “Hopefully,” she whispers, her hand traveling south, to work on unbuttoning his jeans.

Lando swallows hard, his gaze darkening as he grips her tighter. “If I fuck you tonight…” his voice drops, laced with a possessiveness that makes her shiver. “I won’t be able to let another guy come anywhere near you again.”

Her eyebrows arch in surprise, finally able to put the pieces together, understanding why Lando was acting so strange earlier.

“Are you jealous, Lando?” she teases, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in her tone.

Lando’s response is silent; instead, he leans in, his lips finding the soft curve of her neck. He sucks lightly, then harder, leaving a blooming hickey that makes her gasp.

When he pulls back, his voice is firm, “No, I just want people to stay away from what’s mine.”

Her breath catches, and before she can stop herself, the word escapes her lips in a near-whisper. “Yours.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, letting the intensity in his gaze speak for him. She pushes at his chest, making him fall back against the mattress with a soft laugh, and crawls on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips.

Impatiently, her hands work on his shirt, pushing it up his chest. “Off,” she demands, tugging until he lifts his arms and lets her pull it over his head.

His hands waste no time, slipping under her skirt and pulling at the lace of her panties. “These,” he says quickly, his breath warm against her collarbone, “are in my way.”

With a sharp pull, he slides them down her thighs, and she shivers as the cool air kisses her damp skin. She leans down, burying her face in the crook of his neck to hide her embarrassment as he guides her hips forward, her bare core pressing against the warmth of his abs. The firm ridges of muscle beneath her send a jolt of pleasure through her body, and she lets out a soft moan.

Lando’s hand tightens on her hip, his thumb brushing over her skin. “Look at that,” he breathes heavily, “What got you so excited, hm?”

She whimpers at his words, the heat pooling in her cheeks as much as between her thighs. “Don’t—” she mumbles into his neck, her voice muffled and shy.

He chuckles softly, the vibration of it against her skin making her shudder. “No, that’s so hot,” he teases, moving her hips just slightly so she drags against him. His own breath catches, and his hips shift upward, pressing the hardness of his length against her thigh. “You feel what you’re doing to me? It’s mutual.”

She lifts her head, her eyes meeting his as she lets her fingers trail down his chest. Next, she adjusts herself as her hand slides lower, brushing against the waistband of his pants before she pushes them down just enough to free him. His cock springs free, and she bites her lip at the sight of it, her own arousal growing as she reaches out to wrap her hand around him.

Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice rough and full of longing.

As she leans down to press her lips to his chest, her tongue flicking over his nipple, a sound escapes him that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She glances up again, amused. “Well,” she teases, her voice playful but sultry, “I think I just found your new kink.”

Lando lets out a weak chuckle, his hand tangling in her hair as he pulls her back up to kiss her. “Shut up,” he speaks over her lips, but the way his hips buck against her hand tells her she’s right. “Everything you do is my kink,” he whispers, the rawness in his voice making her heart race.

Her cheeks flush a deeper shade, and with a playful glint in her eye, her hand squeezes his cock lightly, eliciting a sharp inhale from him. “Sorry,” she giggles, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to make sure.”

He scoffs, shaking his head with a smirk before his hands cup her ass firmly, pressing her harder against him. His voice is rough and dripping with need as he almost begs, “Come sit on my face.”

The unexpected plea is leaving her breathless, painting her face in confusion. “What?” she stammers, her voice nearly swallowed by the thrum of arousal coursing through her.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Lando assures her, his tone insistent, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.

Without waiting for her to argue, he pushes her skirt up around her waist, revealing the soft skin of her thighs, and pulls her closer to his face. She hesitates for a moment, her nerves warring with her desire, but when his strong hands guide her gently and his lips press a teasing kiss against her inner thigh, she gives in. The first swipe of his tongue against her entrance makes her gasp, her hand flying to the wall to steady herself.

Lando groans as he tastes her, the sound vibrating against her core and sending shockwaves through her body. One arm wraps tightly around her thigh, anchoring her to him, while his free hand drifts down to his cock, stroking himself in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue. Her moans spill into the air, mixing with his as Lando’s mouth works her over like a man starved, warm and wet and utterly relentless.

“Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky as the intensity builds. Her hips jerk against his mouth instinctively, and he responds by pulling her even closer, burying his face deeper between her legs.

His tongue flicks, swirls, and presses in all the right places, and she can barely keep herself upright. She has to press both of her palms on the wall, but even then it’s not enough to keep her grounded. Not when Lando laps at her clit, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her still as her body begins to tremble.

“You taste so fucking good,” he informs her between strokes of his tongue, his words muffled but clear enough to make her toes curl.

As her breaths turn shallow and erratic, she feels the pressure coiling tightly in her abdomen. Lando senses it, too, and his grip tightens, his movements growing more fervent. “Wanna come for me?” he asks as impatient as she is.

Before she can even process his question, her climax crashes into her like a tidal wave, her thighs trembling around his head as her moans echo through the room. Lando doesn’t stop, his mouth and tongue coaxing her through every pulse and tremor until she’s gasping for air.

In one swift, effortless motion, he pulls her down onto the bed and flips her over, positioning himself above her. His lips are slick, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust as he pumps two fingers into her, the wet heat of her still clenching around him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his thumb brushing against her sensitive clit as his fingers curl inside. “Let me feel you.”

Her body arches off the bed as another wave of pleasure crests over her, Lando’s name spilling from her lips in breathless cries. The sheer intensity of his touch and the quickness of it all leave her spinning, her mind barely able to keep up as he drives her over the edge once more.

By the time her breathing begins to steady, Lando leans down, his lips brushing hers in a lingering kiss, tasting her satisfaction on his tongue. He grins against her mouth, utterly smug but entirely captivated.

“See how fucking delicious you are?” he whispers, and she can only nod, still lost in the aftermath of him unraveling her completely.

Seeing the pleasure etched across her face, Lando can barely hold it together. His hands tremble slightly as he shoves his jeans and boxers down for good, freeing himself at last. His cock, heavy and flushed, rests against her thigh, the warmth of her skin giving him goosebumps. He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers as he pauses for just a moment, meeting her gaze with a mix of vulnerability and pure lust.

“Are we really gonna do this?” asks Lando, his voice hiding too much desire under its raspy tone.

His eyes search hers, looking for any hint of doubt. Luckily, there is none. She just nods frantically, her hands sliding down his back to cup the firm muscles of his ass.

Her touch sends electricity through him, and she guides him where she needs him most, her body arching in anticipation. “I want you. Please.”

Without breaking eye contact, he sinks into her, and the world stops for both of them. His head falls forward, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he feels her warmth envelop him, her slick heat drawing him in effortlessly. Her body opens for him so easily, so perfectly, that it steals his breath. The tension that had coiled tightly in her frame melts away as her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer.

Her arms encircle his shoulders, holding him tightly while she gasps Lando’s name. Her voice is music to his ears, and he presses his forehead against hers, the connection between them both overwhelming, yet grounding. Her fingers slide into his curls, playing with the strands at the nape of his neck as her hips shift instinctively, adjusting to his size.

“God, you feel…” he trails off, unable to find the words. Instead, he lets his body speak for him, drawing back before thrusting forward again. His movements are purposeful and powerful, each one making the bed creak slightly beneath them and pushing her up and down the sheets.

Her lips part with soft cries, her fingers tightening in his hair as her body meets each of his thrusts. “Lando,” she moans, her voice full of need and adoration, spurring him on. “Yes, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

He catches her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her sounds as his hands wander over her body. His fingers hook under the hem of her t-shirt, and he tugs it upward, breaking the kiss momentarily to pull it over her head. The sight of her bare skin, flushed and glistening, takes his breath away. Her breasts are adorned with black lace, and the contrast against her skin ignites something primal in him.

“Stunning,” says Lando just as his hand drifts to her chest, brushing over the delicate fabric.

The way she arches into his touch, her nails scraping lightly against his shoulders, drives him wild. His thrusts deepen, his hips moving with purpose as the room fills with the sounds of their bodies meeting, her moans, and his ragged breaths.

“Fucking hell,” he rasps. His jaw clenches as he feels her tightening around him. “You’re killing me. So tight and—”

Before he can finish, she pulls him into a kiss. It’s shallow, their lips barely meeting as they breathe each other’s air. Her nails dig into his back, her legs trembling as she holds him as close as humanly possible.

“You’re so good, Lando,” she murmurs, her voice quivering, her praise like gasoline on his fire. “My favorite boy.”

Her words send him over the edge of control, his hips stuttering as he thrusts deep inside her, feeling her walls begin to flutter and clench around his cock. Her back arches, her head burying into the pillow as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave. Again.

Her moans are unfiltered, and she clutches him like he’s her lifeline, while Lando stills inside her, groaning low and long as her body grips him so tightly that knocks the air out of his lungs. He presses his forehead against her chest, their breaths hurried as her aftershocks pulse around him so sweetly. Her nails scrape lightly down his back, grounding them both, continuing to whisper his name like a prayer.

It’s enough for Lando to surrender to his own orgasm, his body trembling as wave after wave of release takes him over. He stays buried inside her, unwilling to part just yet. The warm tightness around him makes him shudder, his hand gripping her thigh to anchor himself.

When he finally pulls out, he hesitates before pressing his knee between her legs, feeling the slick warmth of their combined arousal smearing against his skin. She squirms against him, her overstimulated body trembling, her hips shifting involuntarily as aftershocks ripple through her.

Lando watches her, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his voice husky as he whispers, “Forget 35. Let’s get married tomorrow.”

She exhales sharply, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I’m down,” she teases, her tone light but affectionate. “Let’s book the venue now.”

He looks at her, gaze softening, filled with something deeper as he reaches behind her and, with one measured motion, unclasps her bra. The suddenness of it catches her off guard, her eyes widening as he tosses it aside like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Before she can say a word, Lando leans over the side of the bed, fishing for his shirt. He finds it, holding it up, then tugging it over her head, the oversized fabric swallowing her frame.

“Perfect fit,” he says softly, his fingers brushing against her arms as he helps her adjust it. The gesture makes her chest tighten, her heart swelling with an ache she doesn’t fully understand yet.

After that, Lando slides back into his boxers and pulls the covers over both of them. The bed is small, forcing their bodies to press together in a tangle of limbs. It doesn’t feel awkward, though. It feels like a new home, safe and peaceful.

He rests his head on her chest, his breath warm and steady against her, while his hand absently caresses her through the fabric of his shirt, his fingers brushing over her nipple. Everything about the moment feels somehow so normal, like they’ve been this way forever.

The silence stretches on, so comforting, until she suddenly breaks it with a soft groan. “I have to pee again.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[luaamarilis]

Ok, I'll speak as a student who likes to study and wants to be a teacher.

My school requires writing an essay every month (and they're not always essays. Sometimes they're short stories, chronicles, letters - it would be great if it weren't for a problem that I'll talk about later: they don't teach you how to write essays, even though a fundamental part of the country's college entrance exam is based on an essay that we don't even know the topic of beforehand).

The problem is that these essays are written on cell phones, since the school does not have tablets or computers or working Wi-Fi in the schools.)

I am one of the few students in my class who does not use AI to write, but on the other hand I rarely write essays because:

1- The essays do not make sense.

2 - The cell phone rarely saves what is written and I have to do it several times, I keep a manuscript, but it is stressful all the same. And my cell phone is old, so the app does not allow copying and pasting (which unfortunately works for those who actually use AI)

3 - There is a button that when pressed, reads the text and shows the errors until they are corrected, which was also AI, and I do not trust that it would not use my texts to improve itself, as well as other students.

Even the tests are digital and many are done on cell phones, again due to lack of resources, and the students used AI. Not even Google searches, its AI.

The teachers tried to force the students to write manuscripts, but they were more willing to take a warning for not doing it in class and copying an AI text than to invent something. And the fact that my Portuguese and writing teacher didn't care about the students using AI and sometimes encouraged it (this teacher was a terrible professional, she hates being a teacher and wants to be a hairdresser, but she is worse at it than being a teacher).

An ex-colleague of mine was complaining to me the other day about the ai problem in her students' papers, and I told her, "Just make your students hand-write them in class. Easy." She looked at me like I was insane and tried to explain how that would never work, but I just said,"That's how we did it for a thousand years. The invention of word processors doesn't erase all that."

To me it seems obvious. Readings are done out of class, handwritten essays are done within it. No more ai papers.

[lukolathoughts]

Nicola loves the girls, the gays, and Luke Newton.

Dearest gentle readers,

Well! What an interesting few days. I'm not sure where to even start. I just want to let Jakeholes know, this isn't the blog for you, so it's best you move along now before you start foaming at the mouth.

In my first blog, I touched on subtext and reading between the lines. This is something I teach to my students and encourage their critical thinking skills. I will give out a photo and ask my students to 'infer' from what they can see in the photograph. 'Inference is a process of deriving logical conclusions from premises known or assumed to be true. It is also a guess or an opinion that is formed based on the information that you have.' In an exam, if I gave the students a photograph and they simply told me that all they could see was that the sky was blue, the grass was green, the lady is wearing a green coat and the man a hoodie and a baseball hat, they would not get very many marks.

However, if they described what they could 'infer' from the photo, such as that handhold does not look genuine and his fingers are stiff, their laughter seems over the top, the man isn't wearing a coat in January. They seem to be looking directly at the photographer, they never make eye contact in any of the photos. This would get them some more marks. Then if they went that one step further and asked WHY to all these points and backed it up with a statement explaining why - they would get even more marks. For example, why isn't the man wearing a coat in January? This could suggest the weather is not that cold in London at the moment, or the this picture might be from an earlier time period. They could look at the shop displays for evidence. Why does the lady never make eye contact with the man, could it infer that she is uncomfortable doing so or the thought never occurred to her? Why are they looking directly at the photographer? Could it possibly indicate they knew the paparazzi were there? And why would they want the paparazzi to take their photo's? What do you say to that class? Are they a couple happily in love? Write me a story on it, one, two, three go! They say a picture paints a thousand words.

Now since Deux Moi dropped the photos just as I was cooking the kid's tea (British slang for dinner) I have once again been glued to Twitter. I had to take a break for a bit and ensure my offspring didn't starve, but I thought oh god another shitshow and the day isn't even over. But I open Instagram and I swear I had the best laugh I have had all day really. I'm not sure when these photos were taken. The weather does look mild to be January and Jake is wearing a hoodie, but my husband is stupid like this and walks around in board shorts. In January. In Wales. When I tell you it's baltic cold, I mean it. But men apparently don't feel the cold especially if you're 24 and plastered to the side of your bestie or PR girlfriend, however you prefer. Us Brits love analysing the weather, probably because it's so shit here. So the timing is not really the issue for me. What made me laugh was was those two belly-laughing in some London alleyway looking like, 'look at us, we're so funny, everything is hilarious haha.' This was quite surprising to me as I genuinely did not realise Jake had a sense of humour, especially around Nic. What did she say that was so funny? We know she has the ability to make Luke belly laugh just by scratching her nose really. It was almost as if it was all a bit orchestrated for the cameras they were staring directly at. 'Smile and laugh for the camera Jake! You've been framed!'

So what was this? A PR set up that Nic and Jake were clearly aware of? Call me sceptical, but I've never seen anything so obviously fake and staged in all my life. Well except the motorbike segment on Graham Norton on the 13th of December last year. I have thought a lot about this and I know I might get some hate, but it's my opinion and I'm sorry Nic if you ever read this. Another thing us English teachers like to do is DESCRIBE things. Describe it to me Peter, or it didn't happen. Touch, smell, sound, taste, sight. Those are the five senses and if you write me a story, you bet your ass they better be in it or it's an F for you. So Nicola, describe to me how it felt racing through London on the back of a motorbike driven by a geriatric, Guinness drinking granddad (do you like my use of alliteration here fellow English teachers?). Graham Norton - 'we have a picture of you on the bike!' Erm, no you have a picture of Nicola stood next to the bike with her thumbs up. There was a video released by her PR company simultaneously that shows Nicola in a STUDIO sitting on the bike and it moving very, very slowly. We do not see her whizzing away up the road on the back of said bike into oblivion, screaming like Michelle Phieffer in Grease 2, clutching on to cool rider Guinness granddad for dear life. In fact, when asked about the experience she recalls literally nothing. If it was me, I'd have been like OMG Graham I almost died! The wind was howling, I was freezing, all I could hear was the rush of wind and the honking horns of cars. All I could see was the glare of lights and traffic and I tasted my own tears through fear.

Watch it if you don't believe me. There was nothing. Am I positive it didn't happen? Actually yes, show me the footage and I'll believe. Why did she go through this elaborate scheme? I have my theories and I will not share them here. I have said enough. But I did get an image in my mind of Luke in Rome rubbing his forehead and thinking, what is she up to now? He was probably secretly a bit proud.

Ok back to tonight's debacle. After the shit show that was Luke's disastrous family weekend than had more taps dripping than the Leaky Cauldron in Harry Potter, I find it highly convenient these photos drop today of all days. I know that Nicola HATES Deux Moi and the feeling I believe is mutual. Wouldn't DM have looked at these photos logically and thought, well these two look like besties out for a stroll? I suppose she does not care, whatever sells right? Was this to yet again spite Nicola?

Or was this Nicola who saw everything that Luke endured this weekend, and quietly told her PR team to 'drop' the photos of me with Jake to divert some attention away. Did she come charging in on her white horse (motorbike) to save the day? There is also the highly suspicious tanned photo of Nic at the WT premiere and then Luke's photo from the funeral, (I do not condone this by the way and I was upset for him this morning and his invasion of privacy) which also shows a bit of a red, sunburned face. Did Nicola once again panic and try to control the narrative? I am lately still picking up on her nervous, scared energy in my readings. She is very nine of swords in her head. Losing sleep etc.

I do love a good mystery and folks, I guess if you are reading this and nodding and not screaming obscenities at me through your screen, I guess you are stuck here with me on the ship for the long haul. I actually loved these photos tonight as it gave me a good laugh and and it proved to me even further that Jake is to Nic what Kurt Hummel is to Rachel Berry. Besties. It is also quite ironic that the first pap pics of them last October dropped the week his trailer for WT dropped and these photos land the week his film is released! What are the chances! Coincidence, Sherlock?

PS. No I do NOT believe Antonia was at Luke's family member's funeral. We have to stop treating this girl like the bogeyman. Let her go and live her life. Luke is living his I have no doubt.

PPS. It is not homophobic to recognise someone is gay. I INFER this from his own Instagram and his friends and partner's posts. I am fed up of being called homophobic when I have a lot of gay friends and two gay cousins.

PPPS. Luke and Nic sitting in a tree, KISSSING. I see you Nic, you savvy little mamma ;,)

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us — JJK

you can’t wait to show your boyfriend the lingerie you bought — kinda nsfw

— drabble based on this ask !!

wc: 2.4k+

note: i’m so sorry it took me this long 🥲 but yay, it’s finally here!! wanted to keep this a little shorter, like 1.5k-ish words but i js couldn't help myself write a little more hehe— enjoy the silly, sexy moments <3 check the ask for warnings if you need them lolol love all of my owiu readers out there !! 🤍

ever since you started dating jungkook, life has felt... lighter.

it’s not that the stress is gone, there are still challenges ahead of you, but one thing that keeps you grounded is knowing your boyfriend will always be there for you.

like today, when he insisted on taking you out because you’ve been working so hard lately.

you’re out with jungkook and a group of your friends; yoongi, jimin, taehyung and his girlfriend hina, and jin with his wife da-eun. these are the people you’ve grown close to, thanks to jungkook encouraging you to meet them. you didn’t have many friends before, but now you do who you're thankful for.

and you’re especially grateful for hina and da-eun. hina, the same age as you, is a bundle of energy, while da-eun, a few years older, is a calming presence. even tho they're different than you, they still, just.. get you.

the day started at a museum; jin and yoongi’s idea. it was calm and peaceful, exactly what you needed.

jungkook stayed by your side the whole time, his arm draped around your shoulders or your waist, leaning in to whisper sweet things to you. and okay, maybe he sneaked you into an empty storage room for a heated makeout session, but that’s beside the point.

it was still peaceful.

next came the arcade, a suggestion from jimin and taehyung. while the guys, especially jungkook, went wild with the games, you and the others enjoyed watching. yoongi’s consistent losing streak provided endless laughs, and the chaos turned into pure fun.

when jungkook noticed that the guys had been dominating the day’s plans, he suggested letting the women choose the next stop. naturally, hina, da-eun, and you all agreed on shopping, much to the guys’ amused groans.

now, you’re at the mall, wandering through the shops. the energy of the place, with its bright displays and bustling crowd, somehow lifts your spirits.

“i literally don’t want anything,” jimin says, stifling a yawn.

“i might grab something,” taehyung adds, his eyes darting to the plushie section. you can’t help but think it’s for hina. she told you loves collecting them, even showed you her collection.

you, on the other hand, have just one plushie from childhood, but you get the appeal. plushies are adorable.

“i really wanna buy some cute clothes!” hina exclaims, her excitement contagious as taehyung pulls her close with a chuckle.

“me too,” da-eun says with a smile, glancing at jin, who nods in agreement.

“what about you, babe?” jungkook asks, looking down at you with that soft gaze of his.

“me three!” you grin, and the group laughs.

“well, let’s head to the women’s section i gues—” jimin begins, but hina cuts him off sharply.

“men are not allowed.”

the guys blink in confusion.

“huh?” they say in unison.

“why can’t we come? it’s just a clothes section,” taehyung protests, crossing his arms.

“because we’re having girls’ time, right?” hina says, looking to you and da-eun for backup.

“absolutely,” da-eun replies without hesitation.

you nod with a smile.

“but i thought i could help pick something for—” jungkook starts, his hand still on your waist, but da-eun interrupts him.

“girls’ time!” she declares, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her. jungkook is left standing there, sulking like a kid whose toy has been taken away.

“i’m okay with that,” yoongi says, almost like a deadpan. “plus, i need to sit down. my legs are killing me.”

���same here. you girls enjoy,” jin adds, planting a kiss on da-eun’s forehead.

“all right, grandpas, let’s find you a bench,” jimin says with an eye roll, leading yoongi and jin away. taehyung pauses to kiss hina on the cheek and whispering ‘have fun’ before following them.

jungkook stays rooted in place, looking like he’s waiting for something.

you cup his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “see you later, babe.”

he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out just a bit, and you chuckle before turning to join the girls. behind you, jungkook slowly trails after the guys, shaking his head with a smile.

now it’s just you, hina, and da-eun in the women’s section, sifting through racks of clothes and chatting about everything.

“i am so glad we can take our time now and let the boys wait. i don’t even like museums,” hina huffs, sorting through a pile of clothes alongside you and da-eun.

you and da-eun chuckle, shaking your heads.

“look, this is cute. it matches your aesthetic too!” you say, holding up a light pink mini dress.

“and it looks like it would fit you perfectly,” da-eun adds with a smile.

hina’s eyes light up as she takes the dress. “i’m gonna try this on right now!” she squeals, rushing off which makes you both smile.

you and da-eun continue browsing. she picks out a few outfits while you grab some comfy clothes and a few dresses. as you glance around, your eyes land on the lingerie section nearby.

one particular set catches your attention; a lacy, red, and very explicit set that makes your cheeks warm just thinking about it. it’s the kind of thing you’d love to wear for jungkook.

you blink, trying to shake the thought, but da-eun’s voice from behind startles you. “you should buy it.”

you flinch a little and chuckle nervously. “what? no, i was just looking.”

da-eun smiles knowingly. “do you not like it?”

you look at it again and you sigh, giving in. “i love it,” you admit.

before she can respond, hina comes bounding back with the pink dress in her hands, her face glowing. “you guys were right, it fits perfectly, and i love ittt!”

you and da-eun smile at her.

“i sent a pic to tae, and he’s already drooling.” she chuckles before continuing, “what about you, da-eun? are you gonna get that pretty, sexy dress you were looking at?” hina teases with a laugh.

“obviously!” da-eun says with a grin. then both of them turn their attention to you.

“what about you, ___?” hina asks excitedly. “did you pick anything... spicyy?”

you glance awkwardly at da-eun, who grins mischievously and subtly points hina towards the lingerie display. hina gasps dramatically, her eyes widening.

“that is so fucking hot! oh my god, you should totally get that, ___. please, please, please!” hina exclaims, practically bouncing on her toes.

you laugh, hiding your face in your hands, a little flustered.

“i’m getting that one.”

“oh my gosh, i missed food!” jimin gasps dramatically, stuffing a bite into his mouth.

the eight of you are seated in a cozy restaurant, wrapping up the day with dinner after hours of fun. the table is alive with chatter and laughter, everyone enjoying their meals. the couples sit side by side, exchanging sweet moments, which jimin predictably calls out.

“ugh, get a room, all of you!” he groans, rolling his eyes.

“honestly, yes, get a fucking room. you’re all just rubbing it in that i’m single,” yoongi adds with a dry chuckle, making everyone laugh.

you’re beside jungkook, his hand intertwined with yours under the table. his thumb lazily rubs soft circles on your skin while he chats with yoongi about something. you’re barely paying attention to their conversation because all you can think about is how ridiculously fucking good he looks right now.

he’s not even trying, just sitting there in a simple shirt and jeans, his hair slightly messy, and yet he’s got your mind wandering to... other things.

speaking of other things, you think about the clothes you bought earlier, the lingerie and a few silky nightdresses that were too beautiful to resist. the thought of showing them to him makes your heart race.

gently, you slip your hand out of his hold and place it on his thigh. his conversation falters as he glances at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he’s silently asking, ‘what’s wrong?'

you shake your head, smiling softly. his lips curve into a small, confused smile, but he goes back to talking.

you wait for the right moment, checking to make sure no one’s paying attention, and then let your hand slide a little higher.

that gets his full attention.

his gaze snaps to your hand, now dangerously close to a place you know will drive him insane. his jaw tightens, and you can see the realization in his eyes— he knows exactly what you’re doing.

leaning in, he brings his lips close to your ear, his voice low and deep. “if you keep doing that, i might have to take you home right now.”

you smile teasingly, leaning closer to whisper, “what are you talking about, jeon? i’m doing nothing.” your hand retreats, as if you’re completely innocent, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

you pick up the drink infront of you, sipping on it with a teasing smile.

he shakes his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips, but you can tell he’s trying to distract himself from the thoughts in his head— thoughts about exactly what he wants to do to you later.

. . .

soon, the evening winds down, and everyone begins saying their goodbyes.

“this was fun. we should do this more often,” taehyung says, and everyone nods in agreement.

as you’re saying goodbye to hina and da-eun, you notice the way they giggle at you, their eyes glinting with... mischief. you smile knowingly, already guessing what’s on their minds.

“what? what’s going on?” jin asks, looking at da-eun curiously.

she simply smiles at him and says, “just girlie things.”

jin frowns slightly, still confused, but lets it go with a soft laugh.

“okay then, let's go home.”

the door barely shuts behind you before jungkook has you pressed against it, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so desperate it leaves you breathless. his hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his body presses against yours.

you kiss him back with equal intensity, your hands wrapping around his neck pulling him down, but then you pull away slightly, resting your forehead against his.

“wait,” you whisper, your breathing uneven.

“wait?” his voice is low, and he looks at you like he’s already losing his patience.

you nod, smiling as you try to calm your racing heart. “i want to show you the clothes i bought today.”

he groans, throwing his head bacm dramatically. “right now?”

“you’ll like it, i promise.” you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom, pushing him gently onto the bed

“stay here,” you instruct, pointing at him before disappearing into the closet

he watches you go, running a hand through his hair, still trying to cool down.

a few moments later, you step out wearing a long, dark purple dress that hugs your body in all the right places. the fabric flows down gracefully, and the color makes your skin glow.

jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, his eyes raking over you with awe. “you look... fuck.. wow. so pretty.”

you twirl slightly, letting the fabric swish around you. “you like it?”

“baby, you look so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, sitting up straighter.

smiling, you step back into the closet and reappear moments later in another dress— this time, it’s a bit shorter, hitting just above your knees, with a soft floral design. jungkook grins, biting his lip as he watches you show it off.

“okay, this one’s cute,” he says, his eyes never leaving you.

you keep going, the dresses getting shorter and more... bold. when you step out in a sleek, silky black mini nightdress that barely reaches mid-thigh, jungkook groans, leaning back on his hands like he’s trying to restrain himself.

“you’re doing this on purpose,” he accuses, his voice low and rough, his eyes locked onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“what?” you ask innocently, moving a little, the skirt of your dress swishing just enough to tease him.

he watches you, his gaze following your every move, filled with love— and something much darker, much hungrier. “do a little twirl for me, baby,” he says, his voice dropping even lower.

you smirk and twirl, biting your lip when you see the way his jaw tightens.

“are you done yet?” he finally asks, his tone laced with desperation. “because if i don’t touch you soon, i might fucking lose my mind.”

you laugh softly, walking over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “one more, please?”

he grabs your waist in an instant, pulling you close until you’re straddling his lap, his warm hands settling on your hips. “fine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck, “but only after you give me a kiss.”

you tilt your head down, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s soft but full of promise. after a few seconds, you pull back, grinning. “you’re gonna love this,” you whisper before slipping off his lap and disappearing into the closet again.

jungkook leans back on the bed, exhaling, trying to control himself. but when you don’t return right away, he shifts impatiently, standing up to pace the room.

when you finally walk out, he’s stops mid-step. he freezes, his eyes widening as they take you in.

you’re wearing the red lingerie set, the delicate lace barely there, with rope-like straps wrapping around your body. small red heart-shaped details covering the parts he really wants to see right now.

he stares at you, his lips parting slightly, his breath catching in his throat.

“oh.. fuck.” he mutters, his voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

you walk towards him slowly, swaying your hips just a little. “what do you think babe?”

he doesn’t answer right away, too busy drinking in the sight of you. when he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse. “i think i just died and went to heaven.”

you stop in front of him, chuckling softly as your fingers trailing up his chest. “i told you you’d love it.”

“you’re so fucking sexy,” he breathes, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, his grip on you firm as if he’s trying to stop himself from losing control. “c'mere”

you smile, letting him pull you closer.

“all this for me?” he asks, his voice low and raspy as his hands trail down to your ass, gripping the soft flesh in his large hands, pulling you even closer.

“all for you,” you whisper, your lips barely hovering over his, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin.

that’s all it takes for him to snap. his lips crash into yours fiercely.

and this time, there’s no holding back.

a/n: ...wish i can show yall the lingerie pic but idk if it's allowed habahabaohw

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @minaateez @myjungkookthighs

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

[buecketsnbueckets]

face to face | P.B

summary: you and paige have been nonstop texting since that day she messaged you. a friendship is forming so what better thing for friendship than to invite her to stay with you for a weekend in LA?

pairing: actress!reader x paige bueckers

contains: tooth rotting fluff, a little bit of tension, THEYRE MEETING!!!

a/n: here’s part 2 of actress reader and paige. things are getting serious!! my inbox is open for more oneshot ideas <3 we’re gonna ignore how long this took me to write!

Interviews had died down now that you weren’t in any projects coming up. Yeah, you had a few more red carpets but there was nothing else for you to promote so you were pretty bored.

Your and Paige’s relationship was feverishly growing within the past two weeks. You were texting one another almost everyday and now that college was out for the summer, you brought up an idea to Rachel while you were relaxing as a little girls night with face masks and drinks.

“Do you think I should invite Paige to stay here for a few days?” You brought up as you took a sip of your homemade mixture of vodka and apple juice.

Rachel sat upright from your oh-so-soft comforter, her sheet mask nearly falling off of her face from the sudden rush.

“Like stay here at your apartment?” She questions, smoothing down the sheet back onto her face as she speaks.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want her to stay at some dingy hotel.”

Rachel hums in thought as she tries to think of a few reasons why it could be a bad idea but her mind blanked.

“You know what? Yeah. I say go for it. I want to meet this girl.” Rachel encourages as she motions to your phone that was charging on the bedside table.

As you scramble to text her, you pause your movements before turning to Rachel with a worried expression.

“Wait, what if she says no? What if she thinks I’m a weirdo because I’m inviting her to stay at my place after knowing her for almost 3 weeks?”

Rachel let out an exasperated sigh at your doubting thoughts.

“Don’t piss me off. Text that girl right now so you can plan it out.”

Before you knew it, you were driving home from the airport with Paige in your passenger's seat. You made small talk throughout the drive, warming up to each other’s personalities and presence.

“Here is my place. You can just set your stuff in my room.” You explain to Paige as you open the front door, allowing her to step in.

Her ponytail swung to the side as she looked around the space, whistling lowly at how large it was. You flush at her reaction and shake your head as you shut the door, locking it behind you.

“You got a nice place. Hollywood treats you nice,” the blonde teases your slight luxury apartment.

You motion to your bedroom with an eye roll. “Go and put your stuff down so we can get started on those pizza’s, Bueckets.”

She chuckled at your words as her tongue prods at her inner cheek and walks over to your bedroom, setting them by the closet door. You and Paige decided to make these flower margherita pizza for her first night. It was just three days you were getting her here in LA and you were saving sightseeing for tomorrow. Plus, you wanted to get to know her in person, not over the internet.

You don’t really know what you’re expecting from this weekend but you were more than excited. Once you have given Paige a mini tour of your apartment, you turn to her with a beaming grin, practically bouncing on the balls on your feet. It was evening now, a soft orange hue flowing through your tall windows as you played Spotify on the TV in your living room. Reluctantly, you allowed Paige to be in charge of that for the night.

She was the guest after all.

“So, I heard you like Shirley Temples so,” you motion for her to follow you to your kitchen, grabbing onto the cool handle of the refrigerator and tugging it open to peek into it. “I made you a pitcher of it.”

Paige’s jaw drops at the sight of the large glass of her favorite drink, running a hand over her mouth as she glances at you in shock.

“Nah, no way you did this,” she shakes her head in amusement as she reaches for it.

“I did, I did,” you nod with a proud grin, shrugging your shoulders. “I thought it would go well with our pizza’s.”

Paige thanks you with an absolutely giddy smile as she just drinks it straight out of the pitcher. You honestly didn't mind as you weren’t the biggest Shirley Temple fan. You giggle as you whip out your phone from your back pocket to take photos of her.

You had to pry it from her fingers as your hunger was taking over. To your surprise, the dynamic between the two of you was if you were childhood friends reconnecting after not seeing each other for ages. After you set down the pitcher, you pull out the dough from the freezer and the rest of the necessary ingredients needed; the sauce, cheese and basil leaves.

As you place the round pieces of mozzarella in the flower shape, you glance at Paige’s focused expression as she does the same. You purse your lips to hide how overwhelmingly ecstatic you were to have her here.

“So, how are you dealing with this,” you motion with a piece in your hand as you spoke, trying to find the right words, “attention you’re getting?”

Paige hums in thought as she looks to you as if it would help her explain it better.

“I mean, I don’t know. At first, it was so weird like people just know who I am and what I do. Most people are nice though. Respectful and considerate. I appreciate that,” she tells you slowly, her smile growing. “I mean, I definitely don’t think I would’ve met you without it so that’s a big plus.”

“Corny,” you tease as you shake your head. “But no, I get it. It can be overwhelming sometimes. I know how it feels. If you ever, you know, need someone to talk to about it, you have my number for a reason.”

Paige’s eyes round at your offer, nodding to herself as she takes your words in with consideration.

“Thank you,” she licks her lips before dusting off her hands as she finishes her side of the pizza. “I think we’re done, yeah?”

You nod in agreement, feeling a bit accomplished with the pizza. It looked almost exactly like the photo reference you had gotten from Pinterest.

“Wait, hold on,” you take a quick photo of the pizza and then motion for Paige to stand next to it.

She does so with glee, grinning and staring at you from behind your phone. You make it her profile picture with a shit-eating grin on your face and jerk your head to the preheated oven.

“Alright now we’re good. It says to leave it in for 10-15 so we’ll check on it then.” You instruct the blonde to place it in the middle.

“Yes ma’am,” Paige mutters to herself as she does as she’s told.

You stare at her bent down figure and shake your head as if it would be rid of the heat flooding your cheeks. She’s just being respectful and you were flustered like a schoolgirl with a crush.

You thought with your years of hiding these feelings you would succeed at some point.

Thankfully, Paige was too focused on not burning her arms to see your expression.

“So what do you have planned for me this weekend?” Paige questioned as she folded her arms and stood back up to face you.

“Well, I think we could visit all of the Walk of Fame, go to In and Out, maybe go to Santa Monica beach at sunset, very L.A things, you know?” You explain to the blonde with a giddy grin.

Paige nods along with your brief explanation of what you had mentally prepped with your new… friend? Yeah, she was a friend.

What else would she be?

“Damn, I was hoping to get a BBL or something,” she sighs in faux disappointment.

“Oh, next time, for sure,” you pat your shoulder to console her, chuckling at her words.

Paige whistles as she slightly leans closer to you. “Are you sugar-mommying me with your Hollywood money?”

You roll your eyes at her words but can’t help the smile itching at your lips as you point to her pitcher of Shirley temple and then to her pink lips.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Paige raises her hands up before taking the pitcher into her larger palms once again.

The two of you continue to talk all night as you feast on the rather delicious pizza. You wouldn’t dare utter the words yet but your crush was swelling on the blonde. Sure, yes, you had the two of you get along, which you did, but you were hoping that she would expose that she had a secret girlfriend or something.

Nope: free as a bird.

You pushed the creeping feelings back into the depths of your brain throughout the weekend as you didn’t want to center your feelings but her time here in L.A. With her, you weren’t really focused on whether or not you had to be insanely picture perfect every time you took a step outside or avoiding certain places due to paparazzi; you could enjoy every moment with her without second-guessing.

It was… peaceful. A breath of fresh air.

She even met Rachel when the girl had ‘coincidentally’ showed up at a coffee shop you two were at on Sunday. You knew she had your location so you weirdly weren’t shocked at all by this. The two thankfully got along. Rachel didn’t miss an opportunity to raise her brows at you, nodding in approval of the basketball player when she excused herself to the bathroom at some point.

“She’s hotter in person, dude. Good for you,” she whispers with a bubbly grin.

“I hate you,” you sigh but internally agree.

She was just irritatingly perfect in every way.

Fuck.

yourusername my weekend! 😝

tagged: @paigebueckers

view all comments

paigebueckers | I had fun I guess 🤣

↳ yourusername | never come back 💜

comment liked by paigebueckers

rachelzegler | i think i’m still blinded by the red lights 😵‍💫

↳ yourusername | shine some blue light to even it out 😇

randomuser | Not Paige hounding a whole pitcher of Shirley Temple😭😭

comment liked by author

↳ yourusername | JUST GREEDY🙄

↳ paigebueckers | You made it for me 💔

randomuser | this feels like a hard launch goodbye.

randomuser | NOBDOY MOVE?!&!-!&!1&2!

kamoreaarnold | Okay LA girl!!!😝😝

↳ yourusername | i fear she’s changed

↳ paigebuckers | Nah I’m still me 😎

↳ yourusername | alr cornball

comment liked by paigebueckers

randomuser | why is no one talking about how they literally had never interacted until almost a month ago and now they’re HANGING OUT??

randomuser | WE DID THIS GUYS!!!!

comment liked by rachelzegler

randomuser | RACHEL…..

williamskayla_ | Now i’m jealous! That pizza looks good 😔

↳ yourusername | i told paige to bring everyone next time 😩

TAG-LIST: @jnkbueckers @ch-3-rry @sayurireidotcom @numberonepartyanth3m @ddeonmixx @simp4women08

[lucygraysboy]

“you’re a natural, lucy gray,” billy praises with a smile, eventually letting go of her hip and resting his hand on top of hers once more. she truly is a natural. besides, she’s already bonded with the horse which is an additional advantage, and sundance doesn’t seem to be particularly stubborn. these two are meant to be. “he really is. there’s just somethin’ about white horses. they always look so majestic and have the most angelic personalities.” which can’t be said about black horses. for some reason, most of those are demons. “i think he’s happy you’ve finally decided to trust him and let him carry you instead of walkin’ beside him. do you want to go a little faster?” he wonders, hoping to sound encouraging but not pressuring. if she needs more time to get used to the motions, he’ll understand. many things can be said about billy, but he’s a patient teacher — they’ll reach new milestones at a pace that best suits lucy gray’s needs. “oh, really?” he’s almost forgot about her mama and just how special this horse is to lucy gray. sundance is a friend, of course, but he’s also one of the last living, beloved keepsakes. his chest constricts, thinking about how the last time this horse heard commands in spanish must have been back when mrs. baird was still here. “if you don’t mind me askin’, when your mama disappeared, did she take another horse with her? or did sundance just manage to find his way back home without her?” he doesn’t mean to ruin the atmosphere and quickly adds, “but, well, that explains why he’s so calm and sweet to you. he must see your mama in you. and he listens to me ‘cause the commands sound familiar. i can teach you a few. vamos is basically let’s go. camina means walk. alto or para is how you make ‘im stop, but if you only want ‘im to slow down a bit, you say despacio. izquierda is left. derecha — right. calma is what you say when he’s bein’ a little too rowdy.” he’ll write it down for her later, but he’s certain sundance is smart enough to understand commands in both languages so she’ll be okay even if forgets a word. “it really does. that’s how life works,” he agrees, gently squeezing lucy gray’s hand as they ride through the woods. 

“hm, alright, now i got it.” saying after sitting quiet and listening to him, listening and watching all these commands and instructions she’s absorbing. “that does make sense, a lot of sense.” and it’s a lot easier than she expected, quickly finding out just sitting on the horse is harder than knowing how to control him. since he’s right, she needs to sit and feel less tensed, his hand on her hip guiding her to relax more even if it causes her heart to flip flop. that definitely doesn’t help in getting lucy gray to ease into it. “he sure is adorable.” and not because he’s not throwing her off she amusingly thinks to herself, but because he’s so willing to go with the flow and those ears of course. along with his pretty mane of hair. “speakin’ spanish to him helps, cause i bet he likes that since he was my mama’s horse who spoke spanish to him all the time.” a warm smile adorns her face, despite the bumpy conditions, trying to be watchful of wear her feet hits. “right? like everything else, it takes warmin’ up to do.” closing her eyes, enjoying the warm sun on her face after a harsh winter she welcomes it and it comes natural to work as a team like he says. that bein’ perfect advice.

[trustmypoison]

Ateez with a low-maintenance partner who loves physical affection

Requested? Yes!

Request: ’Hiiii you've done so many SVT ones that I would love to see for ATEEZ so I'll just list a couple and feel free to do whatever you want! Thank you!!-have a partner that's is low maintenance but loves physical affection/touch’

A/N: I would LOVE to write for other groups!! Please feel free to send in other requests besides seventeen. I love them dearly, but I’ve written over 100 reactions/drabbles/mtls for them. 

A/N #2: I feel like there are a lot of different takes on what low maintenance or high maintenance is. You could define that however you want, but low-maintenance to me implies that you’re independent and take care of your own stuff, may not always care for the frills, and might even be a little bit tomboyish. 

You’d be smothered either way - Yunho, San

I think they just thrive on physical affection themselves, so they might not even realize that you thrive on it just as much. They genuinely might think you’re just playing along most of the time. The type of moments that would make it click is if you straight up ask for affection when he’s busy with something else. He could never deny you and really likes that you don’t mind how clingy he can be. 

Would worry that your affection means something is wrong - Hongjoong, Yeosang

When you ask for affection seemingly out of the blue, he’s immediately concerned that something may be wrong. He won’t really believe you when you just say you missed him, asking a few more questions. Do you feel okay? Are you upset? Does he need to fight anyone? He’ll eventually relax and enjoy your physical affection when you assure him you just like being close to him. 

Might give you a bit of a hard time about it - Wooyoung, Jongho

He’ll sort of smirk and chuckle when you start to cling to him. You’ll get comments like, ‘someone’s clingy today’, ‘are you trying to crawl into my skin?’, and ‘are you trying to smother me?’ However, the moment you act like you might pull away, he’s clinging onto you too. He loves it and he’ll tell you so. He just can’t pass up the chance to rile you up since you don’t always act like this. 

Totally melts if you ask for or give affection - Seonghwa, Mingi

He just turns to mush when you initiate physical affection. He’s not bothered by the fact that you might not always do it, but when you do, he’s going to stop everything to match your energy. He’d never say or do anything that might lead you to believe that he doesn’t like it. He might be shy sometimes about initiating it himself, but he’ll always encourage you to seek the comfort that you want or need. 

[peachesvault]

Mine. Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Just a little filler as I write a proper series so it’s not very well written, just wrote what came to mind and haven’t checked it so please don’t have too high standards I promise I’ll put something better out soon! Check out my other works too!

➽──────────────❥ ➽──────────────❥ ➽──────────────❥ ➽──────────────❥

Bakugo was a lot of things, and it seemed everyone had a different idea of him in their heads. Some hated his brashness, thinking of him as violent. Some, namely small children, thought of him as if he hung the stars, a hero, somebody to be praised and loved. To you he was katsuki, flaws and all. Sometimes he would rat on annoyingly about eating healthy and you wanted to do no more than punch his face, but he was the same man who protected your honour and name with his whole life if you weren’t in the room. He always teased you, annoyed you, but he would never belittle you, and god forbid somebody did because they would be dealt with. Katsuki was a lot of things, but he was undeniably yours.

He was currently waiting by the door, his foot tapping impatiently, yet he never rushed you. He watched, as you smacked your lips and fixed your hair. It reminded him of Mina, and their high school days of him waiting forever for his group to get ready to go out, but at the same time it was ever so different. He could and he would wait as long as it took for you. He was known for being impatient, but sometimes you wondered if those were rumours, having never experienced it yourself, until you saw it first hand against your friends, not even shoto being the sweet soul he is, able to avoid his wrath.

It all resulted to one thing though. Katsuki bakugo was completely and utterly in love with you. Infatuated even.

Reblogs and likes encouraged! Do not copy or post on other platforms.

[valar-did-me-wrong]

I keep seeing this sentiment among people that"the showrunners are giving into /going to give into Tolkien dude bros" and before too many fans actually start believing all this I jusy want to remind everyone somethings about..

The Hate Storm of 2022 🌪️

And how back then this show stood up with Ismael, Sophia, Cynthia, Morfydd, Sara, Lenny Meghan & Markella when the online hate was 1000000000000x worse than what you see rn.

If you weren't tuned into ROP back then, I assure you whatever vitriol you see about the show rn on twitter or ragetube is nothing compared to what was happening in 2022.

On sites like Instagram, not only bots & racists but even normal regular people used to directly bully you and pile on if you left even a single positive emoji in the show's comments.

Even many left leaning Tolkien blogs here were parroting lore points (originating on racist youtube channels) that were based solely on PJ movies, praising WB like it was a non-profit fighting against world hunger & warning to block ROP blogs on sight for watching a show made by Christian men

(PROF. TOLKIEN WAS A HINDU MONK WHO SOLELY WORE SAFFRON DHOTI I GUESS RIGHT?!?)

It was so much that back then the official trop Instagram account DELETED all their promotional photos, cast intros, teasers, trailers EVERYTHING to post a statment that condemned all the racist & horribly misogynistic vitriol thrown at the POC & female cast of the show.

They did all this when the hate campaigners were publically encouraging masses to review bomb ROP across internet to the point that IMDb had to suspend posting user ratings of the show without reviewing them first.

And the global public sentiment was basically hacked by loud incessant misinformation, lies and rage bait that made it trendy & even progressive to bash on the show.

Now despite all this the showrunners stood by their creative choices & actors back then just how they are doing it rn imo..

Remember when the Haters™ complained about Arondir being "too good of a warrior to be true"?? The show did not let that change their decision of showing Arondir as an exceptionally skilled warrior. Even in S2 when his storyline got disturbed by Nazanin leaving, they made sure to give him as many action sequences as possible, made him fight beside and more than High King Gil Galad of the Noldor & Elrond freaking Peredhel in the Siege.. even highlighted all this in BTS videos.

And when the the internet pushed that Galadriel should not be fighting on the frontline but rather float in forests?? They reminded the lore bros of Nerwen with her hairstyle exactly how Tolkien wrote and still made her fight orcs, rescue survivors, negotiate sucessful peace treaties, duel with Sauron & kick his ass in an ultimate finale showdown.

And orc family hate?? Despite all the loud nonsense around it they highlighted it with dedicated posts & Tolkien quotes instead of hiding it away.

And finally, despite consistent continuous complaints against the Harfoot storyline, they did not shrink it or write it out.. because in their vision of Tolkien the little guys & their stories are important so they stay, even going into S3.

I'm not saying there aren't any problems with their depiction of POC characters or writing or pacing. There DEFINITELY are, I mean look at who all died among Elrond's company... The problems especially with minor POC characters are there & VERY visible in S2. (which I hope they fix in future seasons)

But imo these things aren't because the show wants to please racist ragetubers or try to win over a group of Tolkien fanatics who will never become show fans anyway. You, me, my dog, the Haters™ and even Mcpayne know this.. it's common sense atp.

All to say this show was literally forged in the fires of Internet hate storms, I don't think the pathetic flicker of the remaining Haters matters to the showrunners anymore.

(Also the ratings people keep using to scare the fans are US ONLY ratings & data, there's a whole world out here beyond US & the show remained in the Prime top shows across many countries for weeks & weeks after the S2 finale.. and the constant stream of new viewers that are starting the show for the first time just on this website should be proof enough that the show is doing fine) Don't let the show haters' talking points get to you!

Season 3 is, for all intents & purposes, already green lit and ROP is going to complete the story it started out to tell.. don't worry needlessly :)

edited Tolkien lore bros to Tolkien dude bros (I'm not saying all masc fans of Tolkien are racist sexists I promise, it's just a term we use here 😭) after someone from outside of ROP pointed they have a problem.. clarifying things here also, if you love Tolkien & dislike ROP for reasons other than female lead/POC characters/not a copy of PJ = bad etc etc, I've no problem with your personal opinions & this post is not about you :)

[velvet-apricots]

I was encouraged to write a drabble of this idea I had here

Summary: Lucanis can tell that Rook has a thing for Emmrich. Emmrich, however, seems to be very unaware of her attraction. That is until Spite speaks up.

It was happening again.

He had been talking to Emmrich again. For as bizarre as Lucanis found the concepts of raising the dead, the man was good to talk to. It was refreshing to have another to help with Spite, to have a calm firm hand that could get the demon to behave or stop pestering with questions that Lucanis could not answer, or could not answer in a satisfactory way.

That, and Spite just seemed to refuse to believe him out of… Well, spite.

“The moment I told him how soap was made, he insisted I take a bite.”

Emmrich tutted, leaning on his staff and directing his eyes to the demon as he hovered behind Lucanis’s shoulder. “Oh that would be most unpleasant, Spite. I assure you. The saponification process completely changes the composition of the animal fat. It tastes terrible.”

“How do you know?” Spite hissed.

Emmrich shrugged. “I have gotten soap in my mouth once or twice while bathing.”

And then, almost like clock work, Rook was suddenly there, slipping into the conversation. “What is saponification?” she asked, playing with her fingers as she gave Emmrich a little sweet smile, one she never gave to any of the rest of them. 

Rook liked hearing Emmrich talk. She liked seeing him move his hands. She liked looking at him. Her voice would get higher, and she would jut her hip out as she nervously fiddled with something, be it her fingers or her hair. It was very obvious that she was attracted to the older man, looking for any excuse to speak to him. It was like watching a love sick teenager.

And Emmrich seemed oblivious. Politefully so, but still very oblivious. Either that, or he was keeping up a professional decorum.

And so Lucanis now watched them: Emmrich explaining how saponification was the process of “cleaving esters into carboxylate salts and alcohols by the action of aqueous alkali”. Rook looking at Emmrich so intensely that she might as well be trying to undress him with her eyes. Staring at him from under her lashes with a little stupid grin, clearly not actually even hearing what he was saying.

Meirda, she is practically lusting over the man. How does Emmrich not see that? Lucanis thought, giving a humored smirk.

And then Spite spoke. He spoke and Lucanis wanted nothing more than to be struck down by the Maker himself.

“They should get a room. Together.”

Rook of course heard nothing. But Lucanis watched as Emmrich’s brows went up, watched as he turned to look at Spite, his ears and cheeks ever so slightly going pink as he gave a bewildered, open mouthed stare.

“I beg your pardon?” Emmrich asked.

Lucanis closed his eyes, cringing visibly from embarrassment. “Ignore him-”

“No! Do not ignore me! Take her to the bedroom! It’s what she wants!”

Emmrich took a scolding tone, face now going from pink to red.“Take her to-? Spite that is incredibly inappropriate.”

“What is Spite saying?” Rook asked, leaning back as both Lucanis and Emmrich turned sharply to her to say the same thing.

“Nothing.”

Emmrich ran his hand through his hair, looking very uncomfortable and now no longer able to look at Rook at all. “I think I will go make sure Manfred is not getting into any trouble” He mumbled, turning and quickly walking away. Rook followed him, switching from love sick to concerned leader.

Her concern would only make Emmrich feel even more uncomfortable.

“And I will throw myself into a cup of coffee, and possibly off the side of the courtyard.” Lucanis mumbled, turning in the opposite direction and quickly speed walking away. He would have to apologize-

“Do not apologize! I helped!” Spite protested, “He knows now!”

-Apologize to Emmrich.

[evansbuck-ley]

I simply couldn’t stop thinking about the rivals to lovers single dads au post i made so i started writing a fic about it lmao

“My daughter is going to beat your daughter.” Buck whispered as the lights in the theatre began to drop. Tommy turned to face the other man slightly, eyebrow raised and a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You do realise that this isn’t a competition, Evan. Plus, they are both in the same dance routine.” Tommy whispered back. The two men sat there for a moment, staring at each other before Tommy turned his attention back to the stage.

“I do have to say though, Eloise is clearly the better dancer, so it wouldn’t really be a fair competition.” Before Buck could retort back, the music began playing and the stage filled with three year old girls, adorably dressed in pink tutus and ballet pumps.

Things had begun smoothly, all the young girls were moving in sync, copying the dance moves from their teacher standing in front of them. Buck couldn’t help but beam in pride at his daughter, she looked so sweet up there dancing in front of everyone.

However, as the number went on, Buck could see that something had shifted in Lila’s face. The smile that was plastered on her face began to falter, her movements paused and her bottom lip began to wobble. Her eyes grew large and wet as she scanned the crowd looking for Buck. He could feel his heart in his throat at the sight of her, she looked like a deer in headlights and Buck wanted nothing more than to jump up onto the stage with her and hold her in his arms.

But before he could move to his feet, he watched Eloise, so calm and confident, reach for Lila's hand. She tugged at her gently, trying to encourage her to follow along. A chorus of awe could be heard through the crowd because, of course, it was so sickly sweet. And yet Buck couldn’t help but feel a twist of spite in his gut. Not at the fact that Eloise was helping his daughter, but at the fact that Tommy was sitting there with a shit eating grin on his face.

[hugemilkshake]

Can you write head cannons w a platonic yandere burning spice x reader who keeps running away

(It’s fine if not tho ^^)

Enjoy the milkshake! This is basically going to be general headcannons since why not and also does anyone know what place he lives in is called??? Is it a temple or a palace???? Like what is it???

Yandere Burning Spice

-platonic-

!TW! Under the cut are things like implied kidnapping and forcing to fight until exhaustion 

“How strong are you?”

Those are the first words you hear come out of Burning Spices mouth

It doesn’t matter what you answer, the next response is “Show me.”

Now it doesn’t matter how strong you happen to be, wether you have been training all your life or just picked up a weapon, you will lose.

Your probably injured severely, I mean, that’s going to happen when you fight someone who could easily wipe out a nation with a single wave of a hand.

Usually battles like this end with a cookie crumbled. But wether it be the fact that Burning Spice just was released from his prison or that you survived was… intriguing

Originally you were going to be left to die from your injuries but instead he took you back to his palace and ordered some of the spice swarm to tend to you

That includes food, a room to sleep in and medical care. If your confused, so is Burning Spice.

He’s probably more confused than you. He found a random cookie, fought them and took them home. It was the first thing he did when he returned. How odd.

Now in a pretty quick amount of time, his perception on you changes. At first, he just thought you were a weak cookie he took pity on, but now? He sees potential.

What’s better than one destroyer? Two.

You start getting trained, it’s easy at first, like how to hold a battle axe and how strong you have to be to destroy a boulder-

What do you mean you can’t destroy a boulder?

Burning Spice realizes that your… not that strong…

His training gets more intense. He pushes you to the point of near exhaustion, but your improving bit by bit!

Now to be fair, you’re treated pretty well besides training sessions, like you have almost anything you can want! You get amazing meals!

But to you, the training is too much, you miss your friends, you want to leave.

You’d think Burning Spice would be mad, but he encourages running away, it’s an extra form of training! The issue come when he can’t find you again.

Your training is not complete yet! You aren’t strong enough!

When he finds you, it’s mixed. He’s furious, but also relieved. When you get back to the palace he gets you some food and makes sure your settled in alright

Which is very strange.

Was he going soft? I mean that would be nice if he lossened up on your training, you find yourself actually talking to him like he’s an actual mentor! It’s nice.

But the mood shifts when your told to go get your gear. It’s more serious, but it’s going to be a normal training session right?

Right..?

This was the most brutal training session ever. Your dough was cracking and you were losing your consciousness. You didn’t even know how long you’d been training for but this session was longer than usual

You swore you were coughing up jam.

Burning Spice on the other hand he was conflicted, while seeing you in this much pain was enjoyable, it was also difficult to see you in pain.

But this was all for training, it was so you can improve, you were going to become stronger, you were going to be his apprentice…

No…

You ARE his apprentice.

It doesn’t matter how exhausted you are, he was going to mold you into an exact copy of himself.

That was what was going to happen if it weren’t for that pesky bird.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 2 Coming On 01/26/2025!

I am so happy to announce that I have finally finished part 2, proving again that I cannot write a one-shot to save my life 😅! Thank you so much to everyone who loved part one and encouraged me to explore this world a little more for part two. I'm not going to lie I absolutely love how this one turned out and I can't wait to see what y'all think of it!

And also everyone say thank you to @justagirlinafandomworld for inspiring me with her fic Stranded that she wrote for @jacklesversebingo 😊

Part 1

Just A Little Something 😉

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the back seat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here, had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

So far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their roadtrip to Wally World…

A/N: I am tagging people who asked me to in part one, but if you wanted to be tagged for Part 2 and I didn't put you down please let me know! 💗

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz

[lala056]

Exhausting

I have no respect for billford shippers that look down on stancest shippers.

Oh what, you’d have me believe a genetic tie to a partner is somehow worse than being with someone that stabs through your hands, forces you to swallow live spiders, and also SA’s you by having yourself forcibly strip down in public and swing your clothes over your head like a helicopter? (sorry but anyone that forcibly removes your clothes and exposes your body, even if you’re a guy/lacking breasts and it’s just your chest, is committing SA against you. They’re exposing your body against your will plain and simple. Try to write that off how you like but that’s the facts)

The logic behind this baffles me honestly.

There’s a reason Alex titled that kissing drawing as "the worst drawing in the world" and then linked to an amazon BIBLE page (yeah I know that was part of a joke well guess what he frequently uses the bible joke for shipping in general so yeah).

Because he knows it’s BAD, TOXIC, PROBLEMATIC AS YOU GUYS LIKE TO LABEL THINGS. What I see people incorrectly accuse PROSHIPPERS to REPRESENT rather than the actual representation of the LIVE AND LET LIVE CREDO OF SHIPPING.

Ever stop to consider that maybe Alex didn’t do stancest or art involving Wendy/Dipper because he simply a) didn’t like those ships, which is valid since everyone has their own tastes, and he did base some of these characters on his own family so it’s close to home for him, or b) knows how toxic and chronically online a lot of haters are? That he wanted to avoid drama for this stream that he’s trying to milk every cent out of for CHARITY? (It's ridiculous how many times he felt obligated to say "REMEMBER IT'S FOR CHARITY" when shipping came up just to try and prevent any meltdowns from uptight fans and viewers. And even then he still didn't do some because he knew the fact of it being for charity still wouldn't fly for some- because a lot of people would rather watch REAL PEOPLE SUFFER to preserve their fictional sensitivities)

Not to mention he still works with Disney (chibiverse hello), any backlash (the form of false pedo accusations or incest apologist accusations being what happens to be thrown around all willy nilly nowadays over fictional bullshit) could get him blocked not only from working with the company ever again, but lose any input he might have over his beloved passion project and baby Gravity Falls itself?

This is a man who has said COUNTLESSLY that he doesn’t care about ships, has even encouraged people to "be weirder" and made omelet hypotheticals for how much HE DOESN���T CARE BECAUSE FICTIONAL SHIPS DON’T MATTER.

Alex Hirsch is a KING.

And it’s sad to see that so many of his loyal subjets are so bigoted and blind to ignore his own feelings in order to justify their own, or to somehow perform the mental gymnastics in order to absolve themselves of "thought crimes" so that they can feel like they aren’t bad people under the imposition of conservative purity culture.

The terms "cest" and "age" are trigger words now. If those show up in any form, pitchforks come out and roofs get burned. Companies overreact and overcompensate. He said Disney people were watching, so of course he’s gonna say and act in what is deemed an appropriate manner because even companies apparently prefer abusive relationships to ones that have a blood tie even if blood ties are wholesomely depicted.

The age old double standards.

And don’t get me started on bringing up Dipper Goes To Taco Bell. Alex and cast know of that story, they’ve made references to it in a video game and such, immortalized it. They engage with all corners of their fandom, also shown by Jason’s "saving the town" reference on stream.

Another thing, anyone notice how they laughed off the Dipper and Wendy suggestion Jason made, rather than exploded? BECAUSE THEY DON'T CARE IT'S NOT THAT SERIOUS - and most likely turned them down because they know there's more drama about characters being aged up and crap so it wouldn't have mattered if they're adults now, there are people who will always see them as "kids".

Point is - If there was such a strong hate on Alex’s part about the darker side of fiction or taboos he’d do all in his power to make sure they were never mentioned again and be active against them. 

He’s a kind, caring man that obviously likes to just get along with people, but he does put his foot down when he feels something is awful. He’s made political posts about presidents he feels are corrupt and spoken out against social injustice. You honestly think he wouldn’t speak out about those taboo ships in frank language if he thought that they shouldn’t exist and that the people who create for them are awful?

Newsflash, he would. Yes, he’d isolate a sadly small part of his fanbase, but he’s shown time and again he doesn’t care about being liked. He cares about what’s right.

And abusing others over which made up character kisses who, isn’t.

If you’re someone that mislabels proshippers too, to mean "problematic shippers", then as a billford shipper you’re one by definition. And yes, I'm including you AU billford shippers too because there is always some degree of toxicity.

Knock the hate and abuse off. People that go off about why their ship is justified and another isn't are the reason people leave fandoms and leave amazing works often unfinished, even Gen writers and artists.

[wchswift]

HABZHSBAH HIII LINAAA (it's me again 😭) gosh i don't want to appear as a desperate but it seems that you're the only who opens your request for leopold 😔😭

just a small request :3 from a prompt that i encountered "... sorry, i talked too much" "no no no not at all, keep talking. i love listening to you."

well, we all know what a gentleman leopold is HABSUSBSH (I NEED HIM SO BAD MY BABY), i don't have any plot in mind so maybe you could create yours based on the prompt?? thank you!! (i love your writings)

Every Word You Say

Pairing: Leopold Mountbatten x Reader Content: strangers to friends to lovers (kind of), yapping, fluff, reader is a bookworm, Leopold is head over heels, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 2.6k (maybe I got a little excited) a/n: HIII ZAYN BESTIE!! I'm so happy you're sending me requests yayy, thanks to you I could write to Leopold my baby again (pls keep going)! okay I have to admit that I loved this prompt and maybe I got a little carried away about the plot... Maybe I've strayed a little from what you wanted (I hope not), but I really hope you like it cause I really enjoyed writing it <3

It was a good afternoon. The store was quiet, as usual, with only a few customers coming and going and not much activity. Afternoons like that were nice—there wasn't much work to do, but sales were enough to keep the place from feeling forgotten. This allowed some time to relax behind the counter and arrange books on the shelves.

The faint jingling of the brass bell above the door broke the comforting silence of the shop. The sound made her look up from the stack of books on the counter, brushing a stray hair from her face as she spotted the man who had just entered.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, with an air of calm that seemed at odds with the frenetic city outside. His coat was neatly buttoned, his shoes polished, and he carried himself with a poise that made her pause. New Yorkers weren’t usually this... composed. It was weird. But most importantly, he was so beautiful.

“Hi, good afternoon,” she greeted, flashing him a polite smile. “Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

The man hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes scanning the shelves. “Thank you,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, the kind of voice that made even the most mundane words sound elegant.

She went back to organizing her stack of books, sneaking a glance now and then as he browsed. He moved slowly, as though savoring the sight of each title, his fingers brushing over the spines like they were relics. Finally, he stopped at the classics section and pulled out a leather-bound book.

He turned to her, holding the book aloft. “This edition of The Odyssey... it’s rather splendid. Do you recommend it?”

She blinked, surprised at his formality. “Oh, definitely. It’s one of my favorites. That edition has some great commentary in the back, too. Though, fair warning, if you get me started on books, I might not shut up.” She confessed, her tone amusing but gentle.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I assure you, I regret nothing. Please, continue.”

She smiled genuinely at him, feeling a small flutter of surprise at his response. Most people gave a polite nod or chuckle when she rambled, but this man seemed really interested. Encouraged, she leaned against the counter, her hands gesturing animatedly as she began talking.

“You can’t go wrong with The Odyssey,” she said. “I mean, it’s a classic for a reason, right? Epic journeys, gods meddling in human affairs, monsters… And don’t get me started on Odysseus himself. Brilliant, but also kind of an idiot, if you ask me.” She laughed, then quickly added, “Oh, but you know... I mean that in the best way, of course.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Hm, Is that so? Fascinating perspective. You find fault with his decisions?”

“Oh, plenty,” she replied, warming to the topic. “Some of his problems are his own fault—like the whole Cyclops thing? That could’ve been avoided if he’d just kept his mouth shut. But that’s what makes him interesting. He’s flawed. Human. It makes the story feel timeless, even though it’s thousands of years old.”

As the words tumbled out of her, she noticed his expression soften. His gaze didn’t waver, his posture relaxed yet attentive, as though he were cataloging every word she said.

So she just kept talking, completely oblivious to him or how he was mesmerized watching her, the excitement and ease with which she lost herself in the topic. After a moment like that, it was like something hit her, realizing how much she’d been talking, she stopped abruptly, her cheeks heating. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that. You came for the books and probably weren’t expecting an impromptu lecture on Greek mythology.”

He tilted his head slightly, his smile deepening. “Not at all. Your enthusiasm is... refreshing. Please, go on.”

Her lips twitched in a smile of her own. “You’re dangerous, you know that? Most people try to shut me up, but not you. You’re encouraging me.”

“I can’t imagine why anyone would wish you to stop,” he replied earnestly.

The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless. She licked her lips, momentarily speechless and lost in him. After that, she just knew she would want to keep him in her life for as long as possible.

After that, it didn’t take long for him to return.

As she rearranged a display near the window the next afternoon, the bell above the door jingled again. She glanced up, half-expecting the usual flow of customers, only to see the same man from the day before.

He greeted her with the same polite nod and reserved smile, his gaze sweeping over the shop like he was committing every detail to memory.

“Back so soon?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He stopped near the counter, his posture impeccably straight. “I enjoyed our conversation yesterday. And I have a fondness for bookshops.”

“Well, then you’ve come to the right place,” she said, gesturing to the shelves around them. “Find anything interesting today?”

He paused, his gaze flicking to the classics section before returning to her. “Not yet, but I have no doubt you will recommend something.”

“Challenge accepted,” she said, already scanning the shelves in her mind for the perfect book. "Oh, sorry. What's your name again?"

As the days passed, Leopold's visits became routine. He would step into the shop with that same calm air, and they would talk—about books, history, the city, and whatever topic struck her fancy. He never seemed to mind when she rambled, always listening with the kind of focus that made her feel like the most fascinating person in the room. Something she wasn't even a little bit used to, by the way.

Their interaction was so easy and natural. When she talked to him, was always exciting and gave her a feeling of comfort. So it wasn't exactly a surprise when she quickly grew accustomed to his presence. It was strange how easily he fit into the rhythm of her days, even though she knew so little about him.

Each time he came in, she found herself lighting up in ways she hadn’t expected. She would recommend books, tease him about his formal speech, and talk about whatever was on her mind, and he never failed to listen with unwavering attention. She never, not once, felt uncomfortable or unseen in his presence. He was like a prince in a fairy tale.

One rainy afternoon, as she stacked a new shipment of books behind the counter, the man who wouldn't leave her thoughts walked in with droplets clinging to his coat and hair. She glanced up, smiling automatically.

“Caught in the rain, huh?” she asked, setting down the stack.

“Indeed,” he said, brushing water from his sleeves. “Though I find it a small price to pay for the solace this shop provides.” He complimented, in his usual formal way.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You always know how to make the place sound fancier than it is. It’s just a bookshop, you know.”

He tilted his head, a faint smile gracing his lips. “To you, perhaps. To me, it is quite extraordinary.”

The quiet sincerity in his voice made her breath catch for a moment. She quickly looked away, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve.

“Well,” she said, her tone lighter, “if you’re going to keep flattering the place, I should at least give you a tour of the neighborhood. There are some other spots I think you’d like—if you’re interested.”

His eyebrows rose slightly, as though the suggestion surprised him. “I would be delighted,” he said, feeling his heart race.

This finally happened two days later.

The city bustled around them, cars honking and voices blending into a constant hum, but she took him down quieter streets, pointing out her favorite spots.

“This café has the best pastries,” she said, gesturing to a small storefront with a faded awning. “And the park a few blocks down is great if you need to get away from all this.”

He listened attentively, nodding at her words but occasionally glancing around with a furrowed brow, as though trying to make sense of his surroundings.

When they reached a crosswalk she stepped forward without thinking, only to realize he hadn’t moved. She turned back to see him standing on the curb, watching the cars zip by with a look of mild apprehension.

“Hey, you coming?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Is it always this... chaotic?” he asked, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

“Pretty much. You just have to commit to it.” She grabbed his arm lightly, tugging him forward as the light changed. “Come on—don’t think, just go.”

He followed reluctantly, muttering under his breath, “This city has no regard for decorum—or the sanctity of life.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I swear you'll get used to it. Well, eventually.”

As they walked through the park, the noise of the streets faded behind them, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of joggers. She led him to a bench near a small fountain, sitting down and patting the spot next to her.

“See? Not so bad, right?” she said, leaning back with a contented sigh.

He settled beside her, his posture as upright as ever. “It is... quieter than I expected,” he admitted. “Rather pleasant, in fact.”

“I knew you’d like it,” she said, smiling. “You know, You're not as hard to please as you seem.”

He gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching in a faint smile. “Oh, I imagine this is good?”

She laughed softly, and for a moment they sat in comfortable silence, watching the fountain's water ripple in the breeze. They enjoyed being at peace, simply appreciating each other's company.

That evening, he returned to the bookshop. The streets were quieter now, the glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the floor as she tidied up before closing.

He lingered by the counter as she talked, her words spilling out in an excited stream as she recounted a childhood memory sparked by a book she’d come across earlier that day.

“So when I was ten, I had this phase where I was obsessed with The Secret Garden,” she said, gesturing as she spoke. “I even convinced my dad to help me plant this tiny garden in our backyard. Except, I was an awful gardener—I kept forgetting to water it, and half the flowers were just weeds I thought looked cool.”

She laughed, shaking her head at the memory. “But I’d still sit out there for hours, waiting for my own magical door to appear. My dad always called it my ‘weed palace.’”

Leopold chuckled softly, his smile warm. “A ‘weed palace,’ you say? Peculiar, but at the same time charming.”

“Well, maybe to you,” she replied, grinning. “To everyone else, it was probably an eyesore.”

She paused, glancing at the clock and suddenly realizing how long she’d been talking. Her cheeks flushed as she glanced at him.

“Oh God... I’m sorry, I talked too much. I really need to learn when to stop.”

Leopold, who has been utterly captivated, loses the humor in his eyes, his expression shifting to something quieter, warmer as he tries to reassure her.

“No, no, not at all. Keep talking. I love listening to you.” he said softly.

Her breath caught at the earnestness in his voice, the way his gaze held hers as though he truly meant every word. For a few seconds, she could only stare, her usual quick wit failing her.

“Thanks,” she murmured finally, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

The warmth in his eyes didn’t waver, and in that quiet moment, the bustling world outside seemed to fade away entirely.

A comfortable silence settled in for a few minutes. Leaving them there, just staring at each other, observing each other. For a moment, she didn't know what else to say. People didn’t usually look at her the way he was now—like every word she said was worth hearing. It was flattering, a little unnerving, but mostly... nice. She blinked a few times, adjusting her posture while lightly playing with her hair, hoping to dispel the warmth creeping into her cheeks.

The quiet between them was the kind of silence that felt full, warm, and fascinating. She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, glancing at him as he remained by the counter, looking as though he had something more to say.

Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke, her voice soft. “You know, you’re a pretty good listener. Most people get bored with my stories halfway through.”

He shook his head slightly, his lips curving into that faint, knowing smile she was beginning to adore. “I find your stories enchanting. They are... a window into a world I often feel I’m only just discovering.”

Her brow furrowed at the odd phrasing, but before she could question it, he stepped a little closer, his hands gently resting on the counter. His gaze softened, the usual formality in his expression giving way to something more vulnerable.

“It’s rare,” he continued, his voice low, “to find someone who speaks with such passion. Most people... say so little of consequence. But you—your words, your thoughts—they breathe life into even the most mundane things.”

Her heart gave a tiny flutter, and she felt warmth creep up her neck again. “That’s... really sweet of you to say,” she murmured, looking down at her hands.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flickered across his face. He took a deep breath, then, with a soft, deliberate motion, tilted his head to meet her eyes. The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable as he declared, “I speak only the truth.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a spark of something unnameable through her chest, and she met his gaze, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“Well,” she said lightly, trying to steady her voice, “if you keep flattering me like that, I might start to think you enjoy my company.”

His smile deepened, feeling more real, with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I should hope that has been apparent for some time.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re kind of a mystery, you know that? But... I think I like that about you.”

“And you,” he said, his tone softening again, “are an open book. A rare and beautiful one.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she couldn’t look away from him. The faint glow of the shop’s dim lighting reflected in his eyes, and the quiet hum of the world outside seemed to fade entirely. She momentarily dropped her gaze to his lips before his voice brought her back.

“Would you,” he began, his voice careful, almost hesitant, “permit me the honor of accompanying you on another of your walks? Perhaps tomorrow?”

She bit her lip, her heart racing in a way that felt new and thrilling, together with the urge to jump into his arms. “I think I’d like that,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper.

He straightened slightly, a look of quiet satisfaction crossing his face. “Then it’s settled.”

As the bell above the door jingled softly, signaling his departure, she stood there for a moment, watching him disappear into the night. She closed her eyes as a painful smile appeared on her face, she quickly did a happy dance before lightly resting her hands on the counter.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty! feel free to join the tag list ☆

[the-inkwell-variable]

author ask tag

thank you so much for the tag, @the-golden-comet! ooh this is gonna be fun!

i'm going to focus on my current wip, Why Should I Be Careful? I'm Going To Die Anyway! because it's still very much in the planning stages (despite how much I'm writing for it) and I have Thoughts

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'll be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I suppose, if there is a lesson to take from WSIBC?IGTDA!, it might be that you should always chase your goals and desires, and screw what other people think. Maybe put a little more thought and planning into yours than Aura does hers, though. I mean, she almost dies due to her recklessness. Don't be like Aura.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Well, it's a zombie book - I love zombies, in case you can't tell - so the world is an amalgamation of zombie stuff I love. The zombies are based off of the Train to Busan zombies. This is a self-insert mess, so I'm using the town and people I know in the town as location and characters. Little tropes here and there that I love in movies and books alike. It's just a big chimera of stuff that I grab from stuff I remember and shove into it. It definitely needs polish when it's done, but I'm having a blast so far, so I'm'a keep doing it :3

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Uhhhhhh this is a tough question. Right now, Aura is trying to make it to Roger's Grocery Mart to save her girlfriend, but most of the time, she's just trying to have a good time in the zombie apocalypse and hopefully not die. She does eventually grow into a character that (mostly) thinks things through and takes other people's situations into account, so I suppose the lesson is "the world doesn't revolve around you - be kind and helpful to others"?

As for what I'm trying to achieve... mostly, to be honest, I just want people to pick up my book and have a good time reading it. I want to write a zombie book because it's my passion and because there aren't enough zombie books out there. I guess I'm trying to inspire others? To show them that you can survive an impossible situation if you work hard and think things through?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

The only time I've written a full-length book (sorry, the only two times, forgot about Zero: ALPHA), it had about twenty-odd chapters. Z:A had...uh...thirty? That was a long time ago and I sadly no longer have that draft. This one is going to go until it's done. Hopefully more than thirty though!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I have no idea where I'm going to post it. I'm torn between Draft2Digital (originally Smashwords) or Substack. Thing is, I'm really bad at marketing and keywords and all that technical stuff that goes into publicizing, so I'm really hesitant to share it at all. I'm the type of person that gets absolutely morally devastated if my own self-inflicted goals aren't met, and I'm not sure if I can handle that kind of crushing heartbreak with this one lol

So yeah. Might publish, might not. Unsure right now.

When did you start writing?

My dad set up a Windows 95 computer for me in his office, his old one, and taught me the basics of using it. I was five, about to turn six. I immediately sat down and wrote a story about unicorns. I've been writing ever since.

I didn't start writing fanfiction until I was thirteen and had just binge-watched Lord of the Rings for the first time. We don't talk about those works. They were awful.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Write it. Oh it's cringe? Who cares? Write it. Oh, it's a rare pair? Write it. You're worried people will hate it? Fuck the haters. Write it. Writing is about having fun. Writing is about pouring your soul onto the page. Writing is about getting those ideas out of your head so they don't drive you insane. It's about reaching that one person that finds your work and loves it. Even if no one reads it - you still accomplished something. You still wrote it. And no one can take that from you.

I have so many writers in my follow list. Uhh. I have no idea how many are still active, so I'm just going to tag who I know and hope for the best lol

@idyllicocean, @keeping-writing-frosty, @bloodtiesnovel, @asher-writes, @kitswrite, @theink-stainedfolk, @karkkidoeswriting, @lavender-gloom, @orphanheirs, @aquixoticwrites, @alinacapellabooks, @marlowethelibrarian, @flock-from-the-void, @dyrewrites, @storycraftcafe, @writer-imagination, @toragay-writing, @inseasofgreen, @stephtuckerauthor, @thatndginger, @finickyfelix, @eternalwritingstudent, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @the-golden-comet, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @watermeezer, @goldfinchwrites, @winterandwords, @badscientist, @clairelsonao3, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @leahpardo-pa-potato, @mjparkerwriting, @rowanwriting, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @emelkae, @rita-rae-siller, @rebelxwriter, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @stesierra, @francineiswriting, @sunset-a-story, @chauceryfairytales, @hollyannewrites, @jaydenswaywrites, @captain-kraken, @violets-in-her-arms-writes, @romy-thewriter, @pure-solomon, @writingmaidenwarrior, @koiwrites

go, go follow them. they're all so good and make my timeline glow.