#WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME I FEEL TERRIBLE

[the-modern-typewriter]

The villain, who doesn't typically celebrate much anything gets invited to an event (holiday, gala, birthday, etc) by hero with no strings attached.

This is a Secret Santa snippet gift @snowshowerwriting 😊 Have a great one! I hope you enjoy.

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“…And I was just wondering if, maybe, if you’re not too busy, you’d want to go with me?”

The villain stared at the hero for a long moment, watching the colour slowly creep up the hero’s cheeks and all the way up to the tips of their ears.

Snow begin to drift and eddy lazily on the empty rooftop around them.

“Only if you want to,” the hero said. “Sorry. You’re probably too busy, what with being…you. Forget I asked! It’s not a big deal or anything I just—”

“—You want me to go to the peace ball with you.”

“Only if you want to!”

“Why?”

The villain could think of a dozen reasons why, but none of them exactly fitted with their impression of the hero in front of them.

The annual peace ball was a tinsel-strewn, glittering festive affair designed to promote good will across the city by forcing all heroes and villains to join together in a night of absolute truce. No fighting. So help anyone who tried scheming, though of course everyone still did. Good will to all super-powered men, women and others on earth!

The villain had been invited before, in the first few years that the ball was hosted, by a few of the boldest players on either side of the roster. They’d always said no. Never mind that they’d never been much one for making a big deal out of arbitrary times of year. The hero in front of them was not a particularly bold creature, though, heroics aside. Nor were they the sort to want to make some kind of statement.

The hero was bafflingly genuine. Too true to themselves to be of much use in politics, and too powerful for most to want to risk taking a run at them. Powerful enough, certainly, that they didn’t need the villain’s protection or the implication of an alliance between them. Good enough, surely, that the villain struggled to envision a scenario where the hero tried to enlist them over mince pies.

Indeed, as far as the villain could tell, the hero had absolutely nothing to gain by having the villain on their arm.

The hero’s head tilted at the question. “Because I think it would be nice?”

“I’m not nice.”

“Well, no. But it would be nice to spend more time with you. But only—”

“—Only if I want to,” the villain finished.

The hero’s blush deepened. It was possibly one of the most adorable things that the villain had ever seen. Still, the hero stood their ground and waited for an answer, arms folded grumpily against their own overly expressive face.

“Yeah,” the villain said, smothering a smile. “Okay. Sounds…nice.” They kept their voice light. Casual. Their heart hammered in their chest, giving an almost painful squeeze at the bright grin that shamelessly crossed the hero’s face.

“Yeah?” The hero raised their eyebrows. “Nice.”

The villain snorted.

The hero’s grin grew, delighted. “I’ll pick you up at seven? Unless you’d rather meet there?”

“Seven is fine, but I’ll come get you. What address works?”

They made the arrangements, the hero practically fizzing, like they really were looking forward to a night with the villain at their side. No strings attached. It was…well. It was really was so damn nice. There was a rare, warm feeling buzzing in the villain’s chest.

Still.

“You do know you’re going to get hell for turning up with me, don’t you?” the villain asked. “Whatever your reasons.”

“Mm.” The hero made a show of thinking. “I fought a literal mutated snowman last week, but you know what really scares me? Other people’s dumb opinions at the Christmas party.”

The villain found themselves laughing.

“Honestly,” the hero said. “I don’t know how we’ll survive.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You could get hell for turning up with me. Whatever your reasons.”

“It’s cute that you think anyone other than you dares to give me hell about anything.”

“I could be a terrible, hellish date.”

“Oh yeah?” The villain took a step forward, before they could stop themselves. A belated lightbulb flicked on inside their head. “Is that what you are then? My date?”

“I mean—" The hero’s eyes widened. They floundered. They bit their lip, drawing the villain’s attention immediately, and parties were lame but that mouth was absolutely not. “Only if you want me to be!” the hero said. “We can just go as friends. Long suffering colleagues. I’m not trying to—”

“Oh, no. You’re my date, darling. No taking that back.”

“Oh, thank god.”

That time, the villain utterly failed at smothering a smile.

“Oh, crap. I mean—” The hero scrambled for a more eloquent, less relieved, cooler response. They came up endearingly blank.

“Nice?” the villain offered.

The hero narrowed their eyes, playful. “You’re mocking me. Rude.”

“I would never dream of mocking my date.”

“No?”

“It wouldn’t be very festive of me.”

“Oh, yes. Because you’re such a big fan of festivity and seasonal celebrations.”

The villain blinked, mostly out of surprise that the hero had been paying enough attention to even notice that. Maybe they shouldn’t have been surprised all things considered. The hero was smarter than they let on. “And yet,” they said, “you invited me to a seasonal celebration.”

“Well.” The hero shrugged, mostly managing careless that time. “Limited opportunities to take you out anywhere else. I think people might panic if I just turned up with you for a dinner.”

“We’d be served very quickly. I do tend to clear our restaurants with my presence.”

The hero snorted.

“So what does one do at a peace ball?” the villain asked, voice a murmur.

“There’s food. Drink.” The hero recovered themselves, reaching out and taking the villain’s hand, drawing them a few steps closer, leaving footprints in the snow beginning to coat the roof. Their voice softened too. Liquid caramel. “Dancing.”

“Dancing?”

“You done much of that before?”

“You might have to teach me.”

“Well, we start by you wrapping your arms around me like this…”

The villain might have shivered. The hero might have grinned, humming a made-up tune beneath their breath as they swayed together.

The weeks until the ball flew by.

***

People did stare when the two of them walked in. The villain chose to believe it was because the hero looked absolutely gorgeous, despite their dubious choice of wearing a festive jumper to what was clearly supposed to be a black tie event. The jumper was red and said ‘yule can do it friend’.

Maybe the hero was bold, in their way. The villain definitely thought, in the last few weeks, that they’d underestimated their sometimes-enemy.

There were a lot of people crowded into the city hall venue. Pretty much everyone. The villain abruptly missed their usual peaceful night of strolling around the city, relishing the way that the streets emptied as everyone bundled away to wherever their festivities were.

No panic. No screaming or nervous looks. No chance of some would-be-hero showing up demanding what the hell they were doing.

The hero set a steadying hand on the small of their back, studying their face, and their easy read of the villain’s emotions should have been alarming. It was alarming. It was also…

“You good? Do you want to go and grab a drink?” the hero asked. “What can I get you?”

“I don’t drink in public.”

“They have hot apple juice and hot cocoa too. Some fancy mocktails.”

“You don’t mind that I’m not joining you on the champagne?”

“Why would I?”

Some people, the villain thought privately, minded. They had specific ideas on what a party was supposed to be like and felt judged should the villain deviate from that pre-determined idea. The hero led them through the party, expertly weaving people.

“So?” the hero waggled their eyebrows. “What will it be?”

The villain retreated from the stand with an alcohol-free glass of sparkling. Easy to blend in, even if the taste was nothing special. The two of them watched the room for a while, trying out the various different canapes in the buffet, chatting.

It felt better with the hero at their side. They so obviously knew what they were doing at a party, smoothly carrying conversation with anyone who came over, but not in a way that made it seem like they were schmoozing. It didn’t make the villain’s skin crawl. The hero mainly got excited about and asked for pictures of everyone’s pets. Whenever anyone tried to comment on the fact that the two of them were there together, the hero said cheerily that it was “nice, wasn’t it?”

They’d catch each other’s eyes as whoever it was left. An inside joke. It had been a long time since the villain had been in on an inside joke. With the hero, it was a little thrilling.

Of course, as the evening wore on, there was dancing.

The movements were familiar, after all of the hero’s ‘lessons’ in the lead up to the ball. It made it easy to ignore the rest of the room, and the gaudy tree, and the awkward feeling that they might destroy their reputation for the sake of a party. The hero didn’t care about their reputation, did they? They just did what they wanted to.

“So,” the villain said. “What else does one do on a date?”

The hero’s eyes lit up, better than any fairy-light or candle. They stroked their fingers along the nape of the villain’s neck. The music took the opportunity to change to something slow and intimate, inviting everyone to press a little closer. It should have annoyed the villain, but with the hero in their arms, grinning at them, it couldn’t possibly.

“Well,” the hero made a show of considering. “There’s hand-holding.”

“Indeed.” Their fingers wrapped around each other as they moved.

“And kissing.”

“Ah, kissing,” the villain said. Their gaze dipped, inevitably, to that mouth worth going to parties for. “You might have to teach me.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve kissed before,” the hero said, amused. “But I’m always happy to provide a refresher.”

“Part of being a good, heroic citizen I imagine. Helping out the needy.”

“Needy, are you?”

The villain opened their mouth. They registered what they said.

“You’re blushing,” the hero said.

“It’s rude to point it out and mock your date.”

“I would never dream of mocking my date,” the hero said. Then, finally, the hero leaned in to kiss them. Sweet, honeyed, and the warm thing in the villain's chest glowed. They dragged the hero closer, wanting more, more, more. The hero laughed with breathless pleasure and nipped at their lips.

The next year, the villain vowed right then, they were taking their hero somewhere private.

[chibinasuu]

Law x Reader ― sick day; stargazing

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― @splicer13vex tags: sfw, fluff, GN!Reader, no use of y/n, cw vomiting, some platonic heart pirates x reader, not part of the request but what the hell let’s throw in some accidental confession in here too as a xmas gift

“How are you feeling?”

Your Captain's voice was the first thing you heard when you regained consciousness.

You were shivering, your head was pounding, and your stomach churned unsettlingly. You had not felt this bad in ages. 

“Terrible,” you croaked out weakly.  

“Good.” Law said in a deadpan voice, “Serves you right for being stupid.”

You cringed, preparing yourself for the impending scolding from the Captain and Doctor of the Heart Pirates. 

He took a deep breath, “What were you thinking?” 

Here we go. 

“You should know better than to touch and smell some suspicious, unknown plant on an island we barely knew anything about.” 

“In my defense, the flower was very pretty.”

He groaned exasperatedly, “Many poisonous things are!”

“I’m sorry.” You sighed, “I now realize how stupid that was.” 

“Why did you do it anyway?”

“I wanted to show it to you.” You shrugged, “I just thought you’d find it interesting.”

His eyes softened, his frustration melting away at your earnest response. For the record, he did find the flower interesting. In fact, he even went back to retrieve some samples – using proper protective gear, of course – once he made sure you were alright. He wouldn't admit that to you, though, not wanting to justify your reckless actions.

You suddenly felt your stomach lurch, and Law immediately grabbed a bucket, just in time for you to retch your guts out. 

“Let it all out,” Law said, rubbing gentle circles on your back, “I managed to extract most of the poison with my powers, but some traces may still be in your bloodstream.” 

You grimaced at the feel of acid burning your throat. Law handed you a glass of water, which you gulped down greedily. 

“Here, take this.” He handed you a pill, “Should help with the nausea.”

“Thanks.”

You laid back down on the bed once you’d taken the medicine, pulling the blanket tight around your shivering body. The Polar Tang must have been underwater, judging by the chill inside the sub. You wondered how long you were out. 

“I need to discuss our next course with Bepo,” said Law as he touched the back of his hand to your forehead, nodding satisfactorily when he detected no fever.

“You’re on bed rest until tomorrow.” He pointed his index finger at you, “Stay. Put. No funny business, you hear me?”

You nodded.

“Say it out loud.”

You rolled your eyes, “Aye, aye, doctor. No funny business, I promise.”

“Good.” He patted your head once before walking toward the door that led to the hallway. He looked back at you just before he exited, “Try to get some sleep.”

Your mood instantly dropped at Law’s absence – suddenly all of your symptoms felt ten times worse without him there to distract you. 

You heeded Law’s words and tried to get some rest, but sleep eluded you. After around half an hour of you just tossing and turning in bed, the door suddenly swung open, and you brightened at the sight of a fluffy, white head popping in from behind it.

“Hi, sorry!” Bepo tiptoed quietly into the room, “Am I bothering you? Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m feeling a bit better now that you’re here.” You chuckled, “And stop saying sorry, you’re not bothering me.”

“Sorry.” The mink automatically replied, before realizing what he said, “Ah, sorr–“

He chose to just shut his mouth after that.

“You came at the right time actually – I was just about to lose my mind from boredom.” You sighed, “I need some fresh air. I think that would help a bit with the nausea.”

Bepo dragged a chair and sat down next to your bed, “Oh, we’re just about to surface actually. We’re in the open ocean now, so–“

He gasped loudly and covered his mouth with his large paws, “I’m sorry! Please forget that!”

You grinned at the prospect of getting out of here and inhaling some much-needed ocean breeze.

“Oh, Captain’s gonna kill me!” The polar bear looked at you with his big, round, glistening eyes, “Sorry, I know you wanted to go out, but will you please just stay in the sick bay?”

You melted at his cuteness, patting his soft paw reassuringly, “Okay, I will. Don’t worry!”

He sighed in relief and got up, “Oh, great. I’m gonna help prepare the sub for resurfacing now. Please don’t go anywhere and get some rest!”

Once the Polar Tang successfully rose to sea level, Penguin came by with some soup, bringing over his own dinner to keep you company while you ate. 

He didn’t tell you, but you had a feeling he was also under strict orders from Law to make sure that you properly consumed every single drop of that soup.

The clear broth was hearty, warm, and delicious, but you still struggled to keep it down as the remnants of the poison wreaked havoc on your stomach.

Your promise to stay put in the sick bay lasted only about two hours after that. 

Once it was lights-out time, you crept through the dark hallway, heading towards the main door leading to the outside of the submarine. 

You cringed as the wheel creaked slightly when you turned it, but all worries of getting busted sneaking out were forgotten as soon as the first rush of fresh air entered your lungs. 

You spread the blankets you brought from the sick bay on the deck, before sitting on top of it and leaning your head back against the railing.

The stars were out tonight and you looked up at them appreciatively, savoring the unobstructed view of the heavens that only a seafarer could observe.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t stay put.”

You whipped your head toward the sound of the familiar voice, smiling guiltily at the man leaning against the open door.

“Sorry.” You said, not really sounding apologetic at all, “It was getting stuffy inside.”

The reprimand you expected from him never came, and instead, Law just sat down next to you with a sigh. 

He was silent, eyes trained toward the stars. 

You could tell that something was bothering him, but you stayed quiet, patiently waiting until he was ready to speak.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today.”

The vulnerability in his voice shook you, and you felt your heart race in anticipation of what he would say next. 

“You went to smell that damn flower and suddenly you just… collapsed, and I didn’t know what to do.”

He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, “Fuck, I’m a doctor and I froze. My mind went blank, my hands wouldn’t move. You should thank Shachi for snapping me out of it, by the way. There’s a reason why on some islands, doctors are not allowed to treat the people they lov–“

Your heart skipped a beat when he abruptly stopped, realizing that he was letting out more than he meant to. 

“What were you about to say?”

His lips stayed pressed together, and he brought one of his hands up to cover the redness spreading across his cheeks. 

“Law,” You took his hand away from his handsome face and tightly gripped it, “Please.”

“I… care about you, alright?” He finally admitted, face flushed and eyes firmly on the sky.

It wasn’t what he was initially about to unintentionally confess, but it was more than you ever hoped to hear from him.

“I know I’m your Captain, and you’re my subordinate. It was never my intention to… fall for you, but I did, and there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. Please feel free to just forget about it.”

You grabbed his face in between your hands, turning his head and letting him see your bright smile.

His eyes widened slightly as you pulled him in and pressed your lips tenderly against his. 

His surprise only lasted a second, and then he was kissing you back, and it was so much better than the million times this scene had played out in your daydreams.

The stars were the only witnesses as he held you impossibly close, melding your lips together in a slow, delicate dance. 

You sighed softly against his lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”

Law gave you one of his rare, genuine smiles, and your heart soared. Oh, the things you would give to see his smile every day.

He firmly gripped the back of your neck and brought you in for another kiss. 

Of course, your stomach chose that exact time to ruin the moment. 

You quickly stood up and leaned over the railing, purging the soup you ate back out from the way it went down. 

Law chuckled teasingly, “Should I be offended? Do I repulse you that much?”

“Shut up!” You whined, “You know it’s not like that!”

He rubbed your back soothingly as you finished emptying your stomach into the ocean below. His hand was pleasantly warm even through the fabric of your shirt. 

“C’mon,” he placed a gentle kiss on your temple, “Let’s get you back inside.” 

“Can we stay outside for a few more minutes?”

You looked at him with a pleading gaze until he relented and said, “Fine, five more minutes. But you need to layer up.”

He took off his jacket and put it on you, before taking one of the blankets and draping it on top of that.

You dragged him down to lay flat on the deck, and his arm immediately went underneath your head, pillowing it from the cold, hard surface. 

You two ended up staying out there for way more than five minutes.

You pointed out some of the familiar constellations that Bepo had taught you as you took comfort in the warmth of his body against yours. It wasn’t long until you felt your eyelids flickering close.

Law only smiled softly when he noticed your breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.

He gathered you in his arms – one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back – and carried you back into the submarine.

He could’ve just used his powers to “shambles” you both inside in a snap, but he found himself unable to resist holding you in his arms for even one second longer.

Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

a/n: happy holidays everyone!! and a very merry christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄 i hope this fic can be an acceptable christmas gift from me to all of you 🎁😘 this is my first time writing for law, and i hope i did him justice! i really wanted to get him right because he's such a dear character to me 🥺 also!! i'm opening up a taglist, so please fill out this form if you wanted to be tagged on my future uploads! thanks!

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

[my-castles-crumbling]

anticipation - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 570

Up until this moment, Remus had been doing spectacularly well at avoiding embarrassment, if he did say so himself. At least in this particular way. He'd been slowly peeking around corners, casting detecting spells, never walking very close to Sirius...all to avoid the predicament the was in now.

"Looks like mistletoe," Sirius sang teasingly, pointing up at the magical plant over the door that had forced both of them to take a pause in their entry to their dorm room.

What arsehole had hung some there? Surely not a House Elf. Was this James's idea of a joke? Either way, Remus frowned, because now he had a decision to make.

Mistletoe didn't permanently freeze you underneath it. It didn't magically force you to kiss the other person. It just caused you to freeze for a few moments, so there was no way you could deny knowing you'd been underneath it with someone else.

So now was it better for him to refuse kissing his friend? How would that make him look? Surely, if he didn't have feelings, he would have been able to withstand a quick peck with a chuckle and a shrug. But laughing off a kiss from Sirius seemed as terrible as refusing one.

His decision was made for him when Sirius took a bold step closer to him and wrapped two arms around the back of his neck, pressing their chests together. For some reason, all of his earlier amusement seemed to have been wiped from his eyes, replaced by something akin to nervousness. Except Sirius Black didn't get nervous, so Remus didn't understand. "We don't have to..." Remus mumbled, both trying to give himself and Sirius an out.

But the shorter boy just tilted his head to the side. "I never said I didn't want to, Moons," he mumbled, bringing his head closer. "I mean...do you? Want to?"

And Sirius was so close. Gray eyes gazing into Remus's soul, lips so close Remus could feel his warm breath as he thought about the way he could count each of Sirius's perfect, long eyelashes when they were close like this.

Hands quivering with anticipation, Remus brought them to Sirius's waist, body erupting with heat as his thumb brushed against a small sliver of exposed skin by the seam of Sirius's t-shirt.

"I..." What should he answer? It was hot, the air so think he could've cut it with a severing charm, and his entire being was begging him to lurch forward and claim Sirius's lips in his own.

Sirius, eyes flickering up and down between Remus's mouth and eyes, licked his lip for just a moment.

And something occurred to Remus as his mind swirled in a haze. "Did you put that up there?" he demanded, hoping desperately that he was right. That Sirius had wanted this as much as he wanted Sirius.

But before the shorter boy could answer, thundering footsteps caused both of them to turn, pulling back from each other.

"Oh, no! Mistletoe!" James screeched as he entered, placing a sloppy kiss on Sirius's cheek and winking at Remus. "Just trying to find reasons to kiss me, Pads?"

"Of course," Sirius replied a bit weakly, pressing a kiss to James's forehead and walking away, looking put out.

But as Remus stared after him, all he could think about was that Sirius's hadn't just kissed him on the head and been done with it. Why?

[namism]

lost | seishiro nagi

➳ categories: canonverse, breaking up, angst, communication problems, gender neutral reader

➳ word count: 1.7k

➳ summary: Nagi breaks up with you nonchalantly and you're wondering where it all went wrong.

➳ notes: this may or may not have been based on experience and i may or may not have gone through war flashbacks while writing this but it's a-okay!

➳ cross-posted on ao3

You got up from bed 28 hours ago. Nagi broke up with you 5 hours afterward.

Now that the clock strikes 1 in the afternoon, you can't tell whether or not the substance you're drinking out of your personalized coffee mug—which, by the way, was given to you by Nagi on your sixth monthsary—is water, coffee, or Red Bull. You have been officially up for 28 hours with nothing but this mystery substance to fuel your brain, but even not-water, not-coffee, or not-Red Bull can take your mind off the sinking anxiety that floods your system.

Thus comes the sudden urge to walk to the nearest convenience store and buy the first alcoholic drink your eyes land on. Although best boy Yoichi Isagi is already on speaker as he talks you out of doing so, in fear that your insomniac body will crash in the middle of the street with no guidance or a merciful civilian around to rush you to the hospital. He speaks in a hurried tone, almost panting, like he's on his way to your flat so that he can stop you before you ride the elevator four floors down to the building lobby, where the exit doors await your presence—but the sad truth is, he's in München, Germany, for work-related reasons, so all he can do to lend a hand is to stop whatever he's doing and focus on talking you out of doing silly things.

"I just need to sleep, Isagi," you tell him weakly, clutching your wool blanket closer to your chest as you lay on your couch in a fetal position. From the looks of your ongoing FaceTime call, Isagi is in his apartment, well-groomed and dressed in simple house clothes, and fresh out of the shower after a morning gym session. He has an AirPod in his left ear, while the other is probably somewhere in his apartment, wedged between tight spaces or buried under heaps of laundry. You wiggle your toes as the air conditioning restarts, feeling the cool air blow on your feet. "A Strong Zero will do it. They also have a new flavor, ha-ha."

"No, it won't. Sit tight and wait until Chigiri comes," he advises sternly. He called your mutual friend Hyoma Chigiri ten minutes ago upon FaceTiming you and learning about the terrible news that he never would have seen coming. Isagi was terrified by the sight of your bloodshot eyes, deepened eye bags, and unruly hair that spread on your couch pillow. When you began to cry, he knew that calling for backup was the best route. "I just… don't understand. Why did you break up?"

"He broke up with me," you correct. He mumbles a passive apology. "I don't understand it either. I mean, I kinda do, but my brain isn't making any sense of it, or maybe it just doesn't want to."

"Nagi is unreadable. I get it."

You groan.

"You see, it's not even that."

You turn on your side and lay flat on your back. You situate the phone on your chest, so that Isagi has a rather unpleasant view of your chin. He mimics your actions by flopping on his bed and lying on his back, inclining his phone perpendicular to his torso.

"Most people can't read him, but I can. I can tell if he's bothered or hungry, if he's annoyed or upset. We were doing okay until yesterday."

"Maybe there's a part of him that you can't read after all," Isagi suggests, then he realizes his indifferent tone. "Crud. Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine," you mumble with a frown. "I might as well get used to reality."

You fear that Isagi might be right. While you were always confident that Nagi was more loose around you (save for his childhood friend Reo), there could have been some part of himself that he kept hidden.

In that case, you wonder why. As far as you can remember, Nagi never had any trouble voicing out his feelings to you.

"What did he even say?" asks Isagi.

"He said some things," you answer.

"I'm going to assume that he didn't elaborate." He sighs, disappointed in the turn of events. "How did it sound to you?"

You think about it deeply. Nagi, a man of a few words, in fact, did not elaborate much on his breakup speech, but from the many years you knew him, you caught on to his reasoning. The way it happened and how it turned into a breakup just didn't make sense.

"Let's break up," he said out of nowhere as you were getting yourself a glass of lemon tea. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you put down the glass on the counter. "Sorry. It's random."

"Are you serious?" you asked quietly. When you turned around, Nagi was already looking at you.

He nodded.

"I think," you begin, "I think he fell out of love."

Isagi stares at the virtual image of you on his screen, jaw slightly ajar as he finds the right words to say. You beat him to it, though.

"He didn't say much, but he could have been embarrassed to admit it because all this time, I've-I've been..."

"You've been loving him for God knows how long," Isagi finishes.

Tears well up in your eyes, and you turn to your side again. Your whole body hurts as you're hit with a new wave of emotions. Falling out of love? It happens to couples all the time, for many reasons. Usually one gets fed up by the other, or one ends up not being good enough for the relationship to move forward in the long run. Your heart sinks.

Suddenly, you're finding certain moments in your relationship with Nagi that can support this thought, and they don't stop coming even when Chigiri is knocking repeatedly on your apartment door.

Isagi is the one who alerts you of your friend's presence, but you're bundled up under the blanket as the shitty feeling resides in you. You need alcohol. Badly.

Chigiri manages to break into your apartment using a key that you have hidden on the upper ledge of your door. When he finds you rotting on the couch, he embraces you in a warm hug and uses a couple of back pats to snap you out of your senses, but they don't work.

Isagi has to go to work, so he hangs up the call after bidding you goodbye and giving an empathetic look that you don't notice. Chigiri sits with you in silence until you're ready to speak.

"Chigiri," you croak.

"Hm?" he hums.

"Did Nagi ever think I was horrible?"

He sighs.

"Of course not."

You snuggle your head into your hands.

"Then why are we in this situation right now?"

"As much as I want to help, you're the only one who can truly answer that," he explains.

"Could it be because I don't play the games he plays?" you mutter. Chigiri is quiet. "Or maybe because I wasn't too big on football when we met?"

He shakes his head.

"That's stupid. Nagi didn't even get into football until high school."

"But when we started out, I learned that we were much more different than I thought we were, so I was always catching up with him and his friends," you admit. "I didn't know how to play his games, so I tried to get into them just so we could spend time together even though I sucked and he looked happier playing with Reo and his girl. I couldn't understand football language until a few months of dating, either. No offense, Chigiri, but I couldn't understand any of your lingo and I would just sit and stand in your celebrations while nodding my head just to fit in!"

"You can't doubt your relationship because you don't game the way he does," Chigiri reasons, "and Nagi never expected you to know football like that."

"But wouldn't those be reasons to get tired of someone?" you ask. "What if... just what if he thought that it would have been nicer if he had someone who had the same interests as him?"

Chigiri sighs.

"Look. You've been awake for more than a day, so your brain isn't braining correctly. How about you get some sleep and we can talk about this again when you wake up?"

"But—"

"No buts!"

Standing up from the couch, Chigiri tugs the wool blanket off your body to force you up on your feet. Once successful, he drags you to your bedroom, where your pillows and comforter are sprawled on the mattress, just the way you left them a day ago. He forces you under the comforter, which you obey pretty quickly.

He fetches your water bottle from the kitchen and cranks up the room temperature. He doesn't leave until he's sure that you're asleep, but your mind stays running long enough for Chigiri to doze off first in your mini sofa bed by the door.

With the background sound of Chigiri's faint snores, you're left with even more time to think about what went wrong with your relationship with Nagi and how you can possibly move on. Every aspect of your life for the past few years that you've been together has had Nagi involved in it in some way. With the presence of the man you're no longer with appearing in every recent memory you have, how is letting go anywhere achievable?

By the looks of it (and your personal gut feeling), perhaps Nagi did get tired. Although the extent of this certainty falls a little below 50% because he didn't explain his reasons as well as you wanted him to.

Using the strength you have left in your drained body, you grab your phone from the nightstand and open your messages. You type a message that comes to mind as soon as you see his contact.

You hey, can we talk? Read 1:43 PM

Nagi reads the message fairly quickly. You're nervous upon realization. A few minutes pass, and the read receipt stays as it is until a small bubble pops up.

Nagi okay can we talk later?

The same nonchalant Nagi that you love is the same person who just replied.

You sure. as long as we get to talk, please

Nagi mhm of course

Whatever is about to happen, will happen. If he can explain as well as you want him to, then you're happy to accept it and move on. If he's sure of losing you, then maybe you should, too.

[cherryxbooo]

Not the same anymore

Summary: After ending his three-year-long relationship due to his friend’s influence, Lando tries everything to get his lover back.

Note: I’m back!!! The winner of the poll I set up was loud and clear! I hope all of you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! P.s buckle up this one is a long one!

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

I had been dating Lando for three years, and our relationship was everything I could have ever hoped for. We met at an event, our eyes locking from across the room. He was so handsome, his smile blinding, and I knew right then that I had to talk to him. Except I was too shy to approach him. At that moment it felt like the universe heard me and made Lando approach me. We talked all evening long and we hit it off instantly.

From that moment on, we were practically inseparable. We spent hours talking and getting to know each other, our bond growing stronger with every conversation. I still remembered vividly how he had made me laugh until my sides hurt, how he listened with genuine interest to every word I said.

I remembered the excitement and anticipation when he asked me out, the butterflies in my stomach when he first held my hand. It felt like a fairy-tale come true, and I knew from that moment on that he was the one for me. We shared so many moments of joy, of happiness, and even the occasional disagreement, but we always worked through them together.

At first, I tried not to worry, thinking it was just a phase, but the changes in him only became more pronounced. He was less responsive to my texts and calls, and he seemed to prioritize spending time with his friends over me. I felt lonely and confused, unsure of what had caused this sudden shift.

Lando invited me to his place, and I was excited. I thought he was doing just the same, planning to spend some quality time together.

However, as soon as we found ourselves alone, Lando's face was serious, and my heart started to pound. I knew something terrible was about to happen.

Lando sat down next to me, his gaze fixed on the floor. There was a long, heavy silence before he finally spoke.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice almost a whisper.My heart dropped. Those words... they were never good.

I sat there, feeling the dread settling in my stomach. I knew whatever was about to come couldn't be good. Lando took a deep breath, but his face remained serious.

"I think... we need to break up."

I felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. Break up? The words hung heavy in the air, and my mind struggled to process them.

"W...what?" I managed to choke out, my voice shaking slightly. "Why, Lando?"

He avoided my gaze, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "It's just... I need to focus on my career right now," he said, his voice robotic, like he was reciting lines. "Being in a relationship is a distraction, and I can't let it interfere with my goals."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was throwing away our three years together with such ease, as if it meant nothing. I tried to reason with him, to remind him of all the happy memories we had shared.

"We've been together for three years!" I said, my voice rising in volume. "Why is it suddenly a problem now?"

"I need to be 100% focused," Lando insisted, finally meeting my eyes. "It's not just about the amount of time, y/n. It's about the current moment, and right now, my career is my priority." He sounded almost cold, like he was pushing me away.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I fought them back. How could I mean so little to him, that he would discard our relationship so easily?

"What about us, Lando? What about everything we've been through together?" I pleaded, my voice shaky.

He remained stoic, his expression unchanging. "I'm sorry, y/n," he said, his tone lacking emotion. "But my mind is made up."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It felt as though he was a stranger, a shell of the man I had fallen in love with. “You don’t mean any of it! You’re just stressed.”

Lando seemed to snap. "My friends were right," he said, his tone sharp. "This is for the best. Now, I don't need the distraction of a relationship, and I'm better off without you."

His words felt like a stab in the heart, and I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I wanted to defend myself, to challenge him, but his friends were the last thing I wanted to bring up.

But I couldn't help it. "Your friends?" I shot back. "They're the worst! All they care about is partying, drinking, and living off your money.”

Lando's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare talk about my friends like that," he snapped, his tone filled with resentment. "They're the ones who are always there to support me, unlike some people."

I couldn't hold back anymore, the emotions boiling over. "Unlike some people? Are you kidding me?" I retorted, my voice cracking. "Who was there for you when you were doubting yourself? Who stayed up late with you, listening to your worries, pushing you to keep going? Wasn't it me?"

He looked stung, but he shook his head, trying to uphold his cold facade. "That's not how things work," he said stiffly. "My career is my top priority, and I don't have time for anything else."

I felt my own anger rising to match his. "So, you're telling me three years of love, support, and understanding mean nothing to you? Just throw it all away for the sake of your career?"

Lando stood up, his face tense. "The decision is made. I don't need a distraction right now, and that's what you are. A distraction." His words felt like a slap in the face.

My heart shattered, each word breaking another piece of it. How could he turn our love into nothing more than a mere bother? How could he talk to me like this? But I couldn't let myself break down fully. Not here, not in front of him. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back tears and keep my composure.

"Fine," I said, my voice cold. "If I'm just a distraction, then go ahead. Focus on your oh-so-important career." I crossed my arms, trying to hide how much his words had hurt me.

"And you know what, Lando?" I continued, my voice rising. "Your friends? They're all using you. They're not true friends; they're just there 'cause you're famous and rich."

Lando's face twisted in anger at my words. "How dare you talk about my friends like that?" he sneered, his tone spiteful. "They're the ones who have supported me through everything. They're true friends, unlike you. Maybe that's why I'm better off without you."

My eyes narrowed. He had crossed a line. How dare he? "At least I never used you. I loved you for you, not for your fame or your money," I shot back.

He laughed, a humorless, bitter laugh. "Love? Please. You only liked being with a famous guy. The attention it brought you, the luxury. Let's not pretend this wasn't also about status for you."

I felt my fist clenching so hard it hurt. "You know that's not true," I said through gritted teeth. "I never cared about your fame or money. I loved who you were, or at least who I thought you were."

"Oh, really?" Lando challenged, his tone sharp. "Then why didn't you ever say no to the fancy parties or designer clothes I bought you? Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

I felt like my chest was tightening with every one of his accusations. How could he twist things like that, making it seem like I only cared about his money? It was so far from the truth. The minute those words left his mouth I knew it was his friends feeding him these lies about me.

"Those were gifts, Lando," I said, my voice cracking. "I loved them because they came from you, not because they were expensive!"

I didn’t let him speak as I grabbed my bag, my hands shaking with emotion. "Fine. Just don't contact me ever again," I said, my voice cold and void of emotion. "This is over. You’re not the same anymore.”

I walked out of his place, my steps heavy and numb. I didn't look back, afraid of seeing him or breaking down in tears. I just wanted to leave, to get away from his words that echoed in my head, and the painful ache in my heart.

As I stepped outside, the fresh air felt like both a relief and a cold slap in the face. I hailed a taxi, and as I watched the familiar streets pass by, I felt as though my old, happy life had shattered into pieces. I had given him everything, and he had thrown it all away for his stupid career. I would never make that mistake again, I promised myself.

Lando sat in his place alone after she left, the silence of his now-empty home weighing heavily on him. He started thinking about the breakup, feeling a pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it aside, remembering that he had chosen his career over her. It was for the best, he told himself, repeating what his friends had been telling him.

As the hours passed, the guilt started to fade, numbed by the pain and the alcohol he poured himself. He eventually called his friends, and they eagerly agreed to come over, happy to hear he had broken up with his now ex-girlfriend.

They arrived, with smiles on their faces, their eyes glinting with anticipation. "Finally, you get to live a little without that distraction!" one of them said, slapping Lando's back. "We're gonna party hard tonight, man! You deserve it."

Lando felt himself slipping into a numbing haze, the alcohol dulling his emotions and his conscience. He allowed himself to be guided by his friends, their words like sweet poison, promising him that he was better off without me, that he wouldn't miss her. They started planning their night out at a flashy new club, their enthusiasm infectious in Lando's alcohol-doused state.

Lando found himself nodding along, his resistance fading away with each drink. The idea of partying seemed like a good escape, a way to drown out the guilt and the loneliness. He convinced himself that tonight, he would let loose and forget, throwing himself into the nightlife and the company of his so-called friends.

As the night progressed, Lando found himself increasingly affected by the alcohol he had consumed. The world started blurring at the edges, and his thoughts became a jumbled mess. He grabbed his phone, his fingers clumsy as he fumbled with the buttons. After several clumsy taps and misdialed numbers, he finally managed to dial Max's number.

As the call went through, he heard Max Fewtrell answer from the other end. "Lando? What the hell, it's 3 am, are you drunk?"

Lando let out a chuckle, his voice slurred. "Heyyy, Maxxy," he said, his words tripping over themselves. "You sound so grumpy. Come ooon, I need to talk to youeee."

Max sighed, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake the sleep from his voice. "Lando, this better be important. I was trying to sleep, you know." His tone was annoyed, but the concern was evident under the surface.

Lando ignored Max’s tone, his mind swimming with alcohol-induced impulsiveness. "I need to talk, buddy," he said, his words stumbling over each other. "It's about y/n."

Max sat up in his bed, his annoyance fading in the face of Lando's evident distress. He cleared his throat, trying to sound more awake and alert. "Okay, Lando, I'm listening," he said, his voice steady.

Lando took a deep breath, his words slurred. "Max, I messed up, I really messed up," he slurred, his voice cracking. "I broke up with y/n, and man, I feel like crap. I miss her, Max. I miss her, and it... it hurts, Max, it hurts so much." The line of words came out in a jumble, the weight of his emotions too heavy to hide under his inebriated state.

Max let out a sigh, his concern growing with Lando's admission. "Okay, Lando, listen to me. Stay exactly where you are, and for god's sake, don't go anywhere else. Tell me the name of the club, and I'll come get you."

Lando mumbled the name of the club through the phone, his words a bit muffled. "It's... uh, it's called 'The Neon Lights.' It's that new club in town, very fancy. Can't miss the neon lights," he hiccuped.

Max sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, Lando. I'm on my way. Just don't do anything stupid. Just stay put and wait for me." Max quickly got dressed, leaving his bed behind for the task ahead.

Max drove as fast as he could, and reached the club soon. He spotted Lando right away. His best friend was sitting outside, next to a homeless man, laughing loudly in his inebriated state.

Max couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Lando's current predicament. He approached them, giving the homeless man a nod in greeting. "Alright, Lando, let's go," Max said, reaching out to grab Lando by the arm to help him onto his feet.

Lando tried to protest, but his words came out as a muddled mess. "No, wait! I was just having a talk with him!" he argued, hiccuping. He tried to pull away from Max, but his balance was too shaky. "He's a cool guy, Max. Look!" Lando gestured at the homeless man, his movements exaggerated.

Max shook his head, trying to keep his composure. "Lando, stop making a fool of yourself. Let's go, you're coming with me." He gently led Lando away, making sure he didn’t stumble and fall.

By now, a few people from the club were giving them odd looks, amused by the sight of an apparently famous driver being a mess outside. Max just focused on guiding Lando away, thankful no one had recognized him. "Come on, buddy," he said softly, his arms holding him steady.

Lando put up minimal resistance, his limbs heavy and uncooperative. He tried to protest but his words only slurred together, making it impossible to understand. His legs felt like jelly, and he let Max guide him to his car, his head spinning from the alcohol.

Once they reached the car, Max opened the passenger door for Lando, gently guiding him into the seat. Lando slumped in with a groan, his eyes flickering. Max secured Lando's seat belt, making sure he was as safe as he could be in his current state.

As they arrived at Lando's apartment, Max helped Lando out of the car, his feet dragging sluggishly. Walking him to his bed was a challenge, as Lando leaned heavily on Max. With effort, they finally made it to the bedroom, where Lando practically flopped onto his bed, groaning as his head spun.

Max was concerned about Lando, still inebriated and vulnerable. He grabbed some medication and water, placing them on the bedside table for when Lando woke up. He covered Lando with a thin blanket, making sure he wouldn't be cold in the night. He left quietly, making a mental note to check on him in the morning, closing the door softly behind him.

Max returned to Lando's place the next morning, his concern for him still lingering. He used the spare key Lando had given him and let himself inside the apartment. There was a noticeable silence, the aftermath of Lando's excessive drinking still hung heavily in the air.

Max was in the kitchen by the time Lando trudged down, looking half dead from the night before. His hair was tousled, his eyes bloodshot, and his face pale. He groaned as he spotted Max standing by the counter, a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast ready.

Max watched as Lando slumped into a chair, cradling his head in his hands. "What the hell were you thinking, Lando? You were drunk off your ass," Max scolded gently, his voice laced with worry.

Lando winced as he lifted his head, his eyes squint to slits. "I... I don't know. Needed a distraction," he groaned, his voice hoarse. The alcohol had taken its toll, and he felt like death warmed over.

Max sighed, pushing the cup of coffee towards Lando. "There are better ways to distract yourself than getting drunk, Lando. What if the media had found out? You could have jeopardized your entire career."

Max paused, his gaze fixed on Lando’s disheveled state. "So who were you with last night? Who was irresponsible enough to let you drink in such a state, and then leave you alone in that condition?"

Lando rubbed his temples, trying to remember through his foggy memory. "Some friends," he mumbled, avoiding Max's accusing stare.

"You know, just some guys I hang out with sometimes. They were partying, and I... I don't know, I joined in." He paused, trying to compose himself. "Then I got drunk and they... they left."

Max’s eyes narrowed, seeing right through it. "Those friends, right? Are those the ones who always use you, Lando? The ones who take advantage of your fame?" His voice was sharp and filled with frustration, knowing exactly how those 'friends' manipulated Lando.

Max’s tone was hard as he continued, his questions probing deeper. "Did they invite you or did they just drag you along with them? Because I know how they are, Lando. They always take advantage of you. They use you for your money, your fame, and never really care about you."

Lando hesitated, his eyes downcast. He knew Max had a point. "I... they invited me," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "But I went because I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget her." His voice trembled slightly, the pain he felt creeping into his voice.

Max's ears perked up at the mention of y/n. "Is that why you broke up with y/n, then?" Max's tone softened slightly, realizing this was a sore subject.

"Because you wanted to forget her? To distract yourself from the pain?" He saw Lando wince at the mention of her name, and it confirmed his suspicions.

Lando swallowed hard, the pain in his eyes speaking volumes. "I... yes," he whispered. "I thought if I ended things, it would make it easier, but it's only made it worse." His voice shook with regret, the weight of his mistake heavy on his shoulders.

Max probed further, sensing there was more to this. "Were the friends the ones who influenced you to break up with y/n, Lando?" He had a feeling they were involved, knowing their toxic nature.

Lando shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Max's gaze. "They... they encouraged it, yeah," he admitted, his voice quiet, almost ashamed.

"They kept saying she was holding me back, that a relationship would only hinder my career, and I... I let them get into my head."

Max was furious. He had seen how much y/n loved Lando, how much she supported him at every turn, and now he had thrown it all away because of some 'friends' who didn't care about him. "They're the worst, Lando!" His voice rose. "They don't care about you, not like she does. She's been there for you, through everything. And you let them poison you against her?"

Lando closed his eyes, the reality of Max's words piercing through his foggy mind. Max was right. He had let himself be manipulated by his so-called friends, allowing them to turn him against the one person who genuinely cared about him.

"I know," he whispered, his voice choked. "I messed up. I'm an idiot."

Max sighed, his frustration mingling with a sense of compassion.

"You're not an idiot, Lando. But you made a terrible mistake. You let yourself be led astray by the wrong people. Those friends, they're poison. And y/n... she's the one who truly cares for you. You need to fight for her, Lando. Don't let them ruin what you and y/n had."

Lando admitted, his voice filled with regret and defeat. "It's too late, Max. She has blocked me everywhere. She doesn't want anything to do with me." His shoulders slumped, the weight of his mistake heavy on him. "She probably hates me now, and I don't blame her. I hurt her, Max. I don't think she'll ever take me back."

Max, determined to help Lando, decided to take matters into his own hands. He texted y/n, hoping to plead on Lando's behalf, but Max was met with a cold wall - she had blocked him too. Frustration welled up inside, knowing how much of a hole Lando had dug for himself.

"Lando," he said, his tone heavy, "She blocked me too. This is going to be harder than I thought."

Lando flinched as Max confirmed y/n had blocked him too. It felt like the finality of his mistake, like the door to reconciliation was slammed shut, and he had no way to open it.

"I can't blame her," Lando muttered, his eyes downcast. "I messed up so badly. She's got every right to hate me now."

Lando's phone suddenly buzzed with a text from one of his 'friends,' inviting him out again. But before Lando could even react, Max swiped the phone from his hand, angrily blocking them all.

Lando stared at Max, a mix of shock and annoyance on his face. "Dude, what the hell!" he exclaimed, trying to get his phone back.

Max's expression was serious, his tone firm. "Those friends of yours are poison," he stated, holding the phone just out of Lando's reach. "They're the ones who encouraged you to break up with y/n. They're not your real friends, and I'm not letting them influence you further."

Lando tried to reach for his phone again, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Max, please give me my phone. You can't just block them all! Those are my friends!" He sounded desperate, trying to justify something he knew deep down was wrong.

Max stood his ground, shaking his head. "No, Lando. Those friends are the reason we're in this mess right now. They don't have your best interests at heart. They only care about what they can gain from you. You need to see that!" His grip on the phone remained firm, not giving Lando any chance to retrieve it.

Lando, still hungover and angry, tried to make his case. "But... but they're the only ones who are there for me, Max!" Lando argued, desperation lacing his voice. "They're the ones who party with me when I feel down. They're the ones who go out to clubs while y/n stays home. They're just trying to look out for me."

Max's patience wore thin, his anger boiling over. He threw the phone at Lando with a snap, the device landing on the bed next to him. "Fine!" Max sneered, his voice cold. "Figure it out on your own, Lando. Seems you'd rather listen to those so-called friends than hear the truth. See how far they take you."

Lando flinched as Max threw the phone at him, feeling a mix of guilt and stubbornness bubbling inside. Max's words rang true, a painful reminder of the fact that he was defending his toxic friends over the one person who cared. But in his hungover state, he was stubborn, unwilling to admit his friends were the ones pulling him into a toxic pit.

"Fine!" Lando retorted, his voice rising. "I don't need you trying to control my life! And I don't need y/n. I can do whatever I want with my friends!" He grabbed his phone, clutching it tightly, his anger and resentment towards Max growing.

Max stormed out, leaving Lando alone in that moment, his thoughts swirling like a storm. Lando sat in silence, surrounded by the chaos he had created, and the weight of his choices. Max's absence left him with nothing but his own thoughts and the quiet, empty apartment, the reality of his situation setting in.

Days blurred together as I drowned myself in work, my fingers flying over the keyboard, creating numbers and reports that seemed like a lifeline in this sea of heartache. The silence of my apartment was too loud, so I stayed at the office, working until exhaustion took hold.

My best friend grew worried, her concern palpable, but I couldn't bring myself to open up. Who would even want to listen to my sob story, anyway?

I couldn't even bring myself to think about our breakup, the pain still too fresh. Work was my solace, a way to stay one step ahead of the thoughts that threatened to consume me. I tried to focus on the numbers, the deadlines – anything to avoid confronting the reality of my shattered heart.

But as much as I worked, the pain lingered, refusing to fade away. Every now and then, I'd find myself staring off into space, the memories of our time together flooding back. The sound of Lando's laughter, his warm touch, it all came crashing back in waves that threatened to crush me.

Lost in my own world, the sound of my best friend's voice finally broke through the fog of my thoughts. She had been calling my name for the past five minutes, but I hadn't heard a word, too consumed by my own internal battle. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the daze.

She stood by my cubicle, her expression a mix of worry and concern. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft. "I've been trying to get your attention for a while now."

I blinked again, trying to shake off the haze and focus on her words. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied through clenched teeth, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Just really focused on this project." I tried to sound convincing, but I couldn't meet her gaze.

My best friend gently urged, "Y/N, I'm here for you, whenever you're ready to open up. How about a girls' night out tonight? A chance to take your mind off things? You need a break."

Each word felt like a lifeline. She knew just what I needed, an opportunity to lose myself for a moment without the weight of the breakup suffocating me.

The distraction of a girls' night out sounded tempting. I'd have a chance to let go, to pretend things were fine for a while. "Okay," I softly agreed, a small hint of warmth amidst the pain. "A girls' night sounds great. Let's do it."

As the hours passed, I tried to focus on the preparations, changing into something comfortable after my long day of work. But as I stood in front of the mirror, my mind kept wandering, the memories of Lando and the happier times we shared together. I took a deep breath, locking those thoughts away at the back of my mind, and plastered on a smile.

We met at a nearby bar, the noise and laughter a stark contrast to the silence of my apartment.

My best friend tried to engage me in conversation, steering clear of any topics about relationships or exes. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and I found myself sipping on my favorite cocktail, letting the alcohol blunt the edges of my pain for just a moment.

As the night progressed, my best friend knew something was still weighing heavily on me. She steered the conversation deeper, her eyes meeting mine in understanding. "Y/N, really, what's going on? I can see something's eating at you."

I sighed, taking another sip. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and the pain I'd locked away started to slip out.

I hesitated for a moment, then the floodgates opened. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and with each sip, the words poured out. "Me and Lando broke up," I said, my voice wavering. The pain I'd tried to hide finally came out in the open.

My best friend listened without interruption as I told her everything - the pain, the doubts, the sense of loss. She held my hand, her thumb running across the back of my hand in a comforting gesture, allowing me to release all the emotions I had been holding in.

The pain intensified as I allowed myself to acknowledge it again. "I still miss him," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, "but I can't go back to him. Not after everything he put me through."

My best friend stayed silent, letting me take the lead, listening without judgment, offering reassurance with her hand, holding mine firmly.

Her words were gentle, yet comforting. "You're strong, Y/N," she said, squeezing my hands. "It hurts, and it's hard, but you'll get through this. I'm here for you every step of the way."

Her words provided solace, reminding me of my own strength, even when I felt like I was crumbling.

She was right; I had gotten through tough times before. This, too, would pass. I tried to hold onto those words, a glimmer of hope in the midst of hurt. I wiped away my tears, taking a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

After hours we decided to call it a night. As my best friend dropped me off at my apartment, the night's diversion ended, and the silence of my apartment fell heavily around me.

The momentary respite from the pain had come to an end, and the reality of being alone set in again. I tried to ignore the loneliness, the emptiness without Lando. Instead, I got ready for bed, trying to find solace in routine.

I reached for my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the memories that kept invading my thoughts. But as I opened it, I was met with a barrage of social media updates about Lando and me - our pictures together, speculation, and the truth I had been trying to escape. The pain hit me all over again as I saw others asking about our breakup, theories swirling around me.

f1gossippofficial

Liked by formula1_news, f1_wags and others

f1gossippoffical Trouble in Paradise? Fans have suspected that Formula One driver Lando Norris has broken up with his girlfriend Y/N. The pair have unfollowed each other on all platforms and haven't been seen together in months. This suspicion was confirmed after fans saw Lando getting drunk at a club without his partner, living his life. What do you think happened? Follow for more updates!

View all comments

loveformywags2 What? Is this confirmed? This can't be right?! 🥲

lalalandlando4 He deserved better anyways 🤷‍♀️

f1maniaclvr Do y/n and Lando know about this? 🤦‍♀️

pookielanscar481 It's just odd that he was seen being drunk out of his mind without her

mam4you81 That's what I was thinking... What if she broke up with him and he's drowning himself in alcohol?

nanalalaf14 Honestly I don't think so, I think he dumped her since he had stopped interacting with her on his socials while she still liked and commented on all his posts.

4everf1loca NOOOOO my sheilaaaaa 😭

As I scrolled through the comments, reading the theories about us, a bitter realization hit me. They were only seeing the surface, the façade we had carefully crafted for the public. If only they knew what had really happened, the pain, the reasons behind our breakup.

The comments were full of speculation and curiosity. People thought they knew our love story, but they knew nothing. They didn't see the fights, the lies, the coldness between us. Their theories felt like a slap in the face, mocking the reality of our relationship.

All I knew at this moment was that I should take the time to heal and not let anyone ruin this for me.

Months had passed since the breakup, and I had finally made significant progress in my healing journey. Though the memory of Lando and our heartbreak still lingered, I had come a long way. I had focused on myself, investing time in hobbies, spending quality time with my friends, and allowing myself to heal.

I had established boundaries, avoiding social media and news about Lando that would reopen the wounds. I started a new project at work, pouring my energy into something productive. Slowly, I felt like I was rebuilding myself.

Right now, I was sat with my best friend, enjoying lunch together. My phone buzzed with a notification from an old group chat I had almost forgotten about. It was the group chat I used to be part of, with Kika and Alex.

When I opened it, I was greeted with a flood of messages, the group hasn't been active ever since my break up. So I was curious to see what this was all about.

My best friend, curious, noticed the notification that I had checked my phone. She gave me a questioning look, asking, "What was that about?"

"It's an old group chat from two of my WAG friends," I explained. "They want to catch up during the next GP."

My best friend raised her eyebrow, visibly curious. "And are you going to go?" she asked, her voice gentle but eager to know.

"At first, I didn't really want to go because of... well, Lando being there," I admitted, a mixture of hesitation and bravery in my voice. "But then I thought why should I let him dictate what I do? I shouldn't be scared of him, right?"

I paused, my determination showing through. "So, yes, I agreed to go."

My best friend's face lit up with happiness as she heard my decision. "I'm so proud of you!" she said, her pride shining through. "You're not letting him hold you back or influence you anymore. That's such a huge step forward, and you should be proud of yourself."

For a moment, seeing my best friend's proud expression filled me with a surge of bravery. She was right; I wasn't letting Lando affect my decisions anymore. I was taking control of my life again, one choice at a time.

As I laughed with my best friend, the weight of Lando gradually faded into the background. We continued talking, laughing, and enjoying our lunch together. Lando's name didn't come up in conversation. For now, he was just a distant thought, overshadowed by the joys of friendship and healing.

Lando stood in the McLaren garage during the Silverstone GP, his entourage of fake friends surrounding him in his papaya-colored driver overalls. They joked, laughed, and offered their hollow support, all while he got ready for the race.

Amidst the laughter, Lando's thoughts turned to y/n. He missed her, the void she had left in his life was still present, gnawing at him. He had tried to reach out, creating new accounts, but he found himself blocked at every turn, silence his only reply. It was as if the universe itself was holding back any chance of them reconnecting, driving home his deepest fears and regrets.

Lando snapped out of his pensive state, focusing his mind back on the race ahead. He had a job to do, after all. With a firm tone, he told his friends to stay put, to relax and enjoy the race while he got ready. His determination was evident, a momentary distraction from his heart's constant ache.

Lando quickly realised that he had forgotten his phone. As he retraced his steps to retrieve his phone, he heard muffled voices from within his driver's room. Curious, he stopped before he entered, straining to hear the conversation inside.

Michael chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement. "Can you believe Lando was so stupid to break up with her?" Sam agreed wholeheartedly, a sneer on his face. "She was perfect for him, a distraction holding him back from his true potential."

Jake snorted. "Yeah, she was a total inconvenience, always nagging and taking up his time and money. Good riddance, I say."

They shared a cruel laugh, satisfied with their opinions. The conversation between Lando's fake friends revealed their true intentions - to have Lando's undivided attention, away from someone who truly cared about him.

They continued their conversation, mocking y/n's influence on Lando. Michael spoke with a mischievous grin. "It was a piece of cake convincing him. He ate up everything we said like a fool."

John snorted in agreement. "Yeah, we made sure he saw her as a hindrance. Now we have him all to ourselves, no competition."

James interjected, a cruel glint in his eyes. "We convinced him she was holding him back, that he needed to focus on his racing. We even convinced him she was just after his money. Classic play."

They chuckled, pleased with the web of lies they had spun. Michael added, "He doesn't even know what's good for him. We'll keep him under our control, keeping his attention and his wealth all to ourselves. He's too naive to see through us."

Sam, the schemer, couldn't contain his glee. "This has been the easiest con ever. Lando's so trusting, so foolish. We just have to keep filling his head with our lies, and he'll do whatever we want."

Lando, his heart heavy with the revelations, stormed back into the room, anger seeping through his every feature. His fists clenched, his eyes darkened in fury. He couldn't believe how easily he had been manipulated, how blind he had been to the deceit around him.

"How could I be so stupid?" he bellowed, staring down the group.

The group of fake friends froze, their faces stunned. They stared at Lando, wide-eyed, their laughter abruptly silenced. They hadn't expected Lando to return so soon, or to have overheard their malicious conversation.

Lando's voice trembled with a mix of fury and pain. "I can't believe I let you manipulate me like this!" His eyes burned with a potent blend of anger and regret. He stepped closer, his voice filled with a mixture of disgust and hurt. "You were behind all of this, convincing me to break up with her, making me think she was holding me back."

The friends, caught off guard, tried to scramble for excuses. But Lando's words cut through their attempts to justify themselves. Michael spoke up, his voice trembling, "We... we were just looking out for you, Lando. We thought she was holding you back. We wanted what's best for your career, that's all."

Sam chimed in, trying to appease Lando. "We were trying to help you, Lando. We saw how she was distracting you, taking up your time and money. You need to focus on your racing. You're our golden goose!" He forced a fake chuckle, hoping Lando would buy into the manipulation again.

Lando clenched his fists, his body trembling with fury. "You didn't care about what's best for me. All you cared about was having me all to yourselves, using me for my fame and money. You manipulated me, turning me against the one person who loved me truly."

Jake tried to interject, his voice oozing with false concern. "Lando, we did care about you. We just wanted to protect you from a bad influence. We didn't want you to be taken advantage of." He attempted a manipulative smile, trying to deflect the blame onto me.

Lando's voice rose in intensity, his anger boiling over. "Don't you Dare talk about her like that! She was the only one who genuinely cared about me, not you. You're just jealous because she didn't let you use me like you do. You're nothing but a bunch of leeches!"

Michael, emboldened by Lando's anger, smirked, his words sharp. "Don't you dare blame us. This is on you, Lando. You were the one who was too stupid to see through our facade. Now you've lost her because of your own damn foolishness, not our fault in the slightest."

Lando, seething with a mix of hurt and anger, quickly called the security guards. With a firm voice, he instructed, "Get these snakes out of here now!"

The security guards, recognizing the tone of a man pushed to his limit, swiftly entered, escorting the fake friends out of the garage. Lando stood there, watching them leave, a bitter taste in his mouth.

As the fake friends were forcefully escorted out, Lando was left alone in the garage, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. The pain, the regret, the anger—it all slammed into him, finally giving way to the torrent he had held back for so long.

He slumped against a wall, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. Tears prickled in his eyes, his breath coming in ragged breaths.

As Lando sat there, the regret gnawed at him, growing sharper by the second. He thought about y/n, the love he had lost. The memories of their time together flooded his mind, and he berated himself for throwing it away. He blamed himself for listening to the friends who had manipulated him.

He thought about the love they shared, how he had let it slip through his fingers, shattered by his own foolishness and vulnerability to their lies.

Lando, still in a vulnerable state, decided to reach out to Max, despite their rocky past. He thought about the clubs and the disagreements they had had, but he had no one else to turn to now. With a mix of regret and desperation, he dialed Max's number.

Max picked up the phone, immediately sensing the desperation in Lando's voice. As Lando poured out his emotions and apologies, Max listened, his tone softening.

Lando confessed, his voice cracking, "I should have listened to you, Max. You were right about them, all along. I was a fool to listen to their lies and ignore you."

Max, surprised but relieved, replied, "I'm glad you realize now, Lando. Those friends were toxic. They used you, and I tried to protect you, but I understood, now." Max's words were sympathetic, understanding Lando's turmoil, even though they had their differences.

Lando confessed, his voice trembling with a mix of regret and desperation. "Max, I miss her, I miss y/n so much. I'll do anything to get her back, anything at all. It's the biggest mistake I've ever made."

Max fell silent, his concern deepening. He didn't know the extent of Lando's mistreatment of her.

The mention of y/n stirred worry in Max. He gently asked, "Lando, you know I didn't want you to break up with her. But why do you think you mistreated her? Can you tell me about that?" Max's tone was cautious, sensing that there was more to the story than he knew.

Lando hesitated, knowing he had a lot to unpack. Max's curiosity fueled a mix of fear and guilt inside Lando. He knew he had to come clean, even though it was painful to admit.

Taking a deep breath, Lando began to confess, his voice shaky. "I... I treated her badly, Max. I hurt her, ignored her, and took her for granted."

Max couldn't help but wince, knowing there was a deeper issue.

Lando's voice cracked with remorse. "They fed me lies about her. They convinced me that she was holding me back, that she wasn't good enough. I believed them, and I treated her poorly."

Max, as supportive as possible, tried to provide words of encouragement. "Lando, that's rough. You've made mistakes, but the first step is admitting it. You know you messed up; now it's about making amends."

He sighed, "Lando, remember that true love isn't about perfection. It's about growing together, learning from mistakes, and valuing someone despite their flaws."

He paused, his voice serious. "But you've got to show her you mean it. Words are easy, but actions will be your proof. Are you ready to do that?"

Lando, though shaken and determined, nodded, his voice firm. "Yes, Max. I'm ready. I want to prove it to her. I'll show her I've changed and that I'm serious about making amends."

Max and Lando continued talking, their conversation growing shorter as Lando had to prepare for the race. As they bid each other goodbye, Max reminded Lando, "Stay focused during the race. Clear your mind; that's important, too."

Lando, though his mind was heavy with emotion, took Max's words to heart. He knew he had to compartmentalize his feelings for now and focus on the race ahead. He focused on the tracks, his car, and his performance, pushing aside his turbulent emotions for the moment.

I stepped into the grand prix feeling a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The grandstands, the roaring fans, and the smell of rubber and fuel in the air brought back a whirl of emotions. Seeing the tracks where Lando and I used to share moments filled me with nostalgia and a pang of heartache.

My thought were interrupted by two voices. Kika and Alex, my two closest friends, ambushed me with warm hugs, pulling me into their embrace. Their cheerful voices cut through the noise of the Grand Prix, and I felt a mix of relief and joy. It had been a while since we had been together.

"Y/N! You made it!" Kika exclaimed. "We've missed you so much!"

Alex chimed in, grinning widely. "We've been dying to hang out with you! It's been ages." She playfully pinched my cheek. "You look great, by the way."

"Oh, stop it! I didn't do anything special. You two, on the other hand, are the real stars here. Look at you!" I playfully nudged them both, my tone teasing and lighthearted.

Kika and Alex beamed, clearly enjoying the compliment. "Alright, alright, enough with the flattery," Alex said, feigning exhaustion. "We're here to have a blast. You ready for this?"

I sighed one more time while looking around before replying. "More then ready."

We made our way to our favorite hangout spot at hospitality. It was cozy, far from the chaos of the track. As we settled in, surrounded by comfortable couches and tables, a mix of nostalgia and anticipation washed over us.

"I've missed this place," Kika said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "So many memories, right?"

We spent hours catching up, sharing stories, laughter, and heartfelt moments. The conversation flowed easily between us, like old times. Laughter echoed in the cozy space of the hospitality center, and our spirits were lifted. Time seemed to slip away as we bonded and supported one another. Eventually, the time came for Kika and Alex to head back out; their respective significant others were getting ready for their races.

Kika and Alex rose from their seats, their faces slightly apologetic. "We have to go," Kika sighed.

Alex nodded, adding, "Come find us later, okay?"

I gave them both a nod, understanding their commitment to support their boyfriends. "Of course, we'll catch up after the races. Good luck to them!"

Kika and Alex shared one last embrace, their hugs warm and reassuring, then they left to get to their respective spots by the trackside.

As they left, I was left to navigate the grandstands, finding my spot amidst the sea of fans. I blended into the crowd, the anticipation in the air as the racers prepared for their engines to start.

The race concluded, but it felt bittersweet. Lando's face was everywhere - on the screens, the winners' podium, the trackside banners. Seeing him in his natural element, celebrating victories, stirred mixed emotions in me. The pain of missing him and the hope of reconciliation blended together in a complicated mix.

After a bit, I decided that I needed to use the restroom so I headed that way. I made my way to the private VIP restrooms, my VIP pass granting me access. The restroom was clean and spacious, offering a respite from the noise outside. I checked my reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to compose myself.

As I exited the restroom, I was lost in my thoughts, only to bump into someone in the hall. I froze, instantly recognizing Lando's familiar voice. His figure stood in front of me, and I felt my heart skip a beat. His gaze met mine, and time seemed to stand still.

Lando called out for me, his voice filled with surprise, "y/n." His eyes held a mix of shock and tenderness, his voice holding a hint of the emotions he was trying to keep at bay.

As the words hung in the air between us, my heart raced. His presence was so close, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I got out of my stance, trying to leave, I tried to walk past him, but Lando blocked my path, stopping me in my tracks. I felt a wave of emotions crash over me - pain, anger, hope, and a deep longing all mingled together. The intensity of it was overwhelming, and I tried to suppress it.

Lando's voice was hesitant and filled with vulnerability. "Y/N, please…can we talk? Just for a moment."

His request was sincere, his eyes pleading with me not to walk away.

I shook my head, my resolve firm. "No, Lando. I can't and I don't want to." I replied, my voice resolute. The pain from our breakup was still too fresh, and talking to him now would reopen wounds I wasn't ready to confront. I tried to move past him, my expression set with determination.

Lando's face fell, a mix of hurt and resignation evident. He saw my determination, my refusal to engage. He took a step closer, his words soft but desperate, "Please... just hear me out."

My frustrations boiled over. "Don't you think it's ironic? Now you want me to hear you out, when you never listened to me when you decided to end things," I retorted, my voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness.

Lando winced at my words, the truth of them hitting him hard. "I know... I made a mistake," he said, his voice tinged with regret. He was trying to find the right words, his eyes pleading with me to give him a chance.

Lando's expression twisted, the guilt evident on his face as he processed my response. The words cut deep, the truth behind them undeniable.

"A mistake?" I repeated, my voice dripping with bitterness. "You ruined me."

I continued, my words raw.

"I spent months wondering what was wrong with me, why you ended a relationship of three years for a fake friendship that didn't even last a year. Where are those 'friends' who supposedly supported you through everything? I don't see them here, Lando."

Lando looked down, ashamed. He had no answer. His fake friends were nowhere to be found, leaving him alone to confront the consequences of his actions. The weight of his mistake seemed to grow heavier.

He finally managed to gather his thoughts, his voice a mix of guilt and sincerity. "I messed up. I don't expect you to forgive me right now. But please, let me explain." He took a step closer, his regret etched on his face, silently begging for my understanding.

I raised an eyebrow, my words sharp. "Explain? What's left to explain? You threw away three years of us for a group of shallow friendships. What could you possibly say to make this better?"

Lando knew my words hurt, but he was desperate. "I was blind. I was a damn coward," he confessed. "I allowed myself to be manipulated by my so- called friends, and in the process, I hurt you."

He continued, his voice tinged with regret and shame, "I saw them as my real friends, but now I realize they only saw me as a way to elevate their social status." He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "They saw you as a threat, someone who could expose their true intentions. They convinced me you were holding me back, when in reality, they had me blinded."

His voice trembled as he continued, "I let myself believe their lies. They filled my head with jealousy, making me doubt our relationship, and I was stupid enough to listen to them." His vulnerability shone through, his emotions raw.

I nodded, my expression guarded. "I'm glad you've recognized your mistakes, Lando. But can you imagine the pain I've experienced because of them, because of you?"

My words conveyed a mix of grief and resentment. The hurt I suffered remained a palpable presence, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.

Lando nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew he couldn't take back what he had done. The time he spent believing those fake friends and ending our relationship had shattered something that couldn't easily be repaired. He understood the depth of my suffering, a consequence of his blind trust and foolishness.

Lando looked at me, his expression sincere, and asked if we could try again. He voiced his regret, hoping for a chance to make things right. The hope in his eyes was clear, but the weight of the past lingered between us. He wanted to rebuild, to fix what he had broken.

He pleaded with me, his voice filled with remorse. "I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I want us to try again. I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't let those fake friends influence me anymore. I'll do whatever it takes."

I shook my head, my voice resolute. "No, Lando. I'm still healing, and right now, I don't want to try again. I need time, space. I can't just forgive and forget in a snap."

My words were firm, expressing my current inability to jump back into a relationship after everything I had been through.

Lando, his voice filled with sincerity, looked into my eyes. His gaze conveyed the depth of his regret and determination. "I understand," he said. "I will wait for you, for ten years or more," he promised. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."

As we concluded the conversation, Lando stood there, his heart heavy with the weight of our future hanging in the balance. He watched me leave, a mix of emotions coursing through him: regret, hope, and an ache of longing. He had to accept that he couldn't rush our healing process, no matter how much he desired to be by my side.

I walked away, my eyes misty, the past and the uncertainty of our future intertwining in my thoughts.

f1gossippofficial

Liked by formula1_news, wagscloset, formula1_gossips and others

f1gossippoffical Months after their break-up, Lando Norris and Y/N have been spotted after the Silverstone GP. Sources state that the ex-couple were arguing, what the argument was about is still a big question. Many suspected it was because of a third party being involved. Thoughts about this one?

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lazyformulaland Bro leave them alone, they're both adults. Let them solve this in peace ffs. 🙄

lvr4lan Noooo Lando honey this isn't you run!

wagslov4 Did he pick you yet ? 🙄

bbpiastri81 What the hell is going on

norriswithrizz4 This is insane, the main focus of formula one isn't even on formula one anymore smh 🤦‍♀️

4everyours4ln Y'all are too invested, leave my girl y/n alone.

momolew16 Forreal the girl didn't ask for this

closetofpeacefashion7 Exactly she was finally thriving and then this happend. It doesn't even look like she wanted to talk to him

mayyoushush8 Did she tell you that 🤨

closetofpeacefashion7 @mayyoushush8 Don't be stupid even a kid can see that 🥱

I decided to head back home, not forgetting to shoot Alex and Kika a quick message which they completely understood.

As I reached home, the weight of the evening's emotions crashed down on me. The conversation with Lando had stirred up all the hurt and confusion I had been suppressing. I felt emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed, unsure of what to make of it all.

The silence of my home only amplified my inner turmoil, leaving me to wrestle with my conflicted feelings.

A few days passed after the incident, I decided to move on with life and not let it bother me again. A perfect distraction? Drowning myself in my workload.

I arrived at work as I stepped inside the building, I was greeted by Linda, one of my co-workers.

Linda, approached me with a mischievous grin, her question catching me off guard. "Do you have a secret admirer, by any chance?" she asked, the curiosity palpable in her voice.

I stared at her, confused by her question, wondering why she would draw such a conclusion. I shook my head, puzzled by the idea. "What makes you think that?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

Linda chuckled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of intrigue. She replied, "Have a look in your office."

Puzzled by her cryptic hint, I made my way to the elevator and reached my office. As I stepped inside, confusion lingered in my mind, wondering what I was about to find.

My eyes widened with shock and surprise as I entered the office, finding a massive bouquet of my favorite flowers. The delicate blooms filled the space with a sweet, comforting fragrance. Attached to the flowers was a note, mysterious and intriguing. My heart fluttered with anticipation as I reached for the note.

My fingers traced the delicate paper of the note, and as I read the words, they stirred a whirlwind of emotions. The poem was written in delicate script, the words flowing like music... and it was about love. Each line spoke of tenderness, trust, and a future filled with hope. The words were so beautiful, it was as if they were carefully chosen specifically for me.

The little poem, written with a tender brush of affection, read:

"From the morning dew to the evening's glow, My love for you continues to grow. Through shadows and light, in every season's rain, Our bond remains, a gentle refrain.

In whispers of joy and moments of peace, I hold you close within my heart's embrace. Each smile shared, each memory we weave, My love will remain a boundless pledge."

I was so confused, who could've been behind this? As I read the poem again, my mind wandered to Lando for a moment. I quickly dismissed that Idea. He had confessed that he couldn't write romantic words, finding them cringeworthy.

If it wasn't Lando, then who would have written such a poem?

As the day wrapped up, I found myself heading home, my mind still lingering on the mysterious poem. Entering my home, I sank onto the couch, exhaustion seeping through my bones. The softness of the cushions welcomed me as my thoughts played through my mind, trying to unravel the mystery.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ring of the doorbell that echoed through my home. It was late in the evening, and I couldn't guess who might be at the door at such a time. With some curiosity and a hint of wariness, I got up to answer.

I went over to the door to open it and I was met with a delivery man. The delivery man handed me a massive bouquet of fresh flowers and a large box of chocolates. The fragrance from the flowers mingled with the scent of chocolate. The combination was almost overwhelming, leaving me baffled as I accepted the gifts.

Now I was even more confused, this bouquet was even bigger than the one from my office. And the weird thing was, that the chocolates I got were only my favorites.

I examined the box of chocolates, finding another note attached to the top. Carefully, I opened the wrapper, retrieving the note. Just like the previous one, it was written on delicate paper, filled with intrigue. I unfolded it, ready to read the message.

As I unfolded the paper, I was met with neat, elegant handwriting. The words held a romantic touch, and I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity. The second poem spoke of tender love and adoration.

"Your presence brings light to every room, A symphony of grace in each simple bloom. Though we may walk separate paths in life, My heart's allegiance is a ceaseless strife."

I sat there, taken aback by the heartfelt words. They spoke of admiration and deep affection. Who could have written these beautiful poems and left them for me? The confusion deepened, and I pondered who could be behind the mysterious gestures.

Plagued by curiosity, I reached for my phone and called my best friend, hoping for answers. As the call rang, I prepared myself for a wave of questions, expecting her to know something.

My best friend's cheerful voice filled the call, answering instantly. "Hello?" She sounded cheerful as ever, not knowing the mystery I was about to unload on her.

I cut straight to the point, my tone slightly urgent. "Hey, I have a question. So, I've been receiving anonymous flowers, chocolates, and... poems." I paused a moment. "Any idea who it could be?" I asked, hoping for some insight.

She was silent for a moment, her surprise apparent. But then her voice brightened, and I could tell she had a theory. "Oooh, a mystery admirer?" she asked, half-joking, half-curious.

I sighed, rolling my eyes playfully. "Well, yes. It is somewhat mysterious." I replied, unable to hide the hint of unease in my voice amidst the flowers and chocolates surrounding me.

We delved into the mystery, discussing possibilities. From past crushes to unknown admirers, we contemplated various scenarios. But no concrete conclusion surfaced, leaving me even more intrigued and slightly frustrated.

That was until my best friend's insight sparked a new perspective. She pointed out that the mystery admirer seemed to know me well. They knew my workplace, my love for romantic poems, and even my favorite chocolates and flowers. It wasn't just a coincidence; they seemed to have a grasp on my habits. The timing of the delivery was eerily precise, appearing just when I arrived home.

My best friend continued, her voice filled with speculation. "It's not just the flowers and chocolates, it's the timing. They know your work schedule. It's almost like they're watching, waiting for the right moment."

I agreed, thoughtfully absorbing. "Yeah, that's been bothering me. The timing is too perfect. They either know my schedule or they're stalking me." I chuckled, trying to soften the situation with humor.

"Wait!" My best friend suddenly interrupted, a speculative glint in her eyes. "Could it have been Lando?"

The name hung heavily in the air, bringing our conversation to a halt.

I shook my head, quickly dismissing the idea. "No, probably not. Lando doesn't enjoy writing, especially not romantic poems. He always told me he found them cringe."

My bestie nodded, acknowledging my response. "Ah, right. He's not exactly the poetic type, is he?"

I grinned slightly, remembering Lando's disdain for poetic words. "Nope, definitely not. He'd rather punch a wall than write a poem." I joked, the idea of Lando writing a poem seeming far-fetched, even for a moment.

After a while of thinking and cracking our brains open, we ended the conversation, deciding to table the mystery for the moment. We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone, my mind still swirling with questions. I prepared for the night, the flowers and chocolates lingering in the background, their presence a reminder of the mysterious admirer.

Several months passed, and the mysterious gifts persisted, each one more thoughtful and personal. The flowers continued arriving, alongside a new addition - small, handmade tokens. Notes slipped into the bouquet containing thoughtful messages, while a box of my favorite chocolates came with a heartfelt poem.

I sought information, asking friends and family if they knew anything. They were taken by surprise and genuinely had no idea who was behind the surprises. The mystery deepend as everyone denied any involvement.

The mystery escalated. Along with the physical gifts, I discovered a surprise on my phone. Text messages arrived with miniature poems, each one carefully crafted and sweet. The sender's number remained undisclosed, leaving me baffled about the identity.

The mystery escalated. Along with the physical gifts, I discovered a surprise on my phone. Text messages arrived with miniature poems, each one carefully crafted and sweet. The sender's number remained undisclosed, leaving me baffled about the identity.

The messages, delivered alongside the tangible gifts, carried messages that resonated with my emotions and experiences. It felt almost as if this person truly knew me, yet remained hidden behind the anonymity of their identity.

It was that time again - our annual girls' night out. We always looked forward to these nights, a chance to let loose and have a blast in a vibrant club. I had my best friend beside me, ready to dance the night away. The only problem? My best friend chose a club that Lando used to go to every time. She reassured me that he wouldn't be here which I took her word for.

We strutted into the club, excitement filling the air. Music pulsed through the venue, the bass matching the rhythm of our hearts. The lights dazzled the dance floor, and we blended into the crowd, the worries of the day fading in the throes of the nightlife. We decided to hit the dance floor, letting go of any inhibitions as we lost ourselves in the music.

We danced with abandon, the beat pulsating through us, the rhythmic movements our shared language. The neon lights flashed, adding an electric charge to the atmosphere. As we danced and whirled, we felt liberated from the daily grind, living in the moment, lost in the music and the company of my best friend.

Later that night we both got thirsty, I made my way to the bar to get us drinks, when suddenly a man approached me. I could already smell the alcohol on him as he staggered towards me, a lopsided smile plastered on his face.

He smirked, his words coming out in a clumsy manner. "Hey there, pretty lady," he slurred, his tone oozing with an unwanted familiarity. He invaded my personal space, leaning in a bit too close for comfort.

I could feel the warmth of his breath, tainted with alcohol, against my cheek as he spoke. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?" He tried to flirt, his persistence evident even amidst his intoxication.

I tried to maintain a polite smile, stepping back slightly. "I'm here with a friend," I replied, my voice a mix of politeness and discomfort. I glanced at the bartender, silently praying for my order to arrive sooner so I could escape this uncomfortable interaction.

He chuckled, his intoxication making him clumsy yet bold. "Oh, come on. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be tied down to just one friend. You should let loose and have fun," he insisted, his words filled with a suggestive undertone.

I tried to end the conversation, giving him a firm but polite dismissal. "Thanks, but I'm good," I said, my tone leaving no room for further conversation. I discreetly inched closer to the bar, hoping he would get the hint and leave me alone.

Instead of taking the hint, he persisted. "Oh, come on. Don't be a party pooper. One drink won't hurt," he insisted, his words slurring even more. He took another step closer, trying to close the gap between us.

I felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance as his persistence continued. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, leaving a cloying odor on the air. I tried to maintain my composure, not wanting to cause a scene but also wanting him to back off.

He took another step closer, his gaze lingering on me. I could see the effects of the alcohol on him - the unsteady steps, the glazed look in his eyes, the clumsy attempts at charm. He reached out, attempting to touch my arm, his gesture too familiar and unwelcome.

The guy got annoyed when I backed away. He reached out, his hand grabbing my arm with a firm grip, trying to pull me back. I felt a jolt of fear as he attempted to drag me.

His hold tightened, his voice a mix of frustration and insistence. "Come on, don't you know how to have fun? Just one drink, a little chat." He tugged at me, his alcohol-fueled stubbornness evident.

I felt a mix of panic and defiance. "Let me go, you sick prick!" I exclaimed, my voice strained. I glanced around, hoping for someone to intervene, but every face seemed lost in their own world, oblivious or uncaring about the situation. The loud music blared, making it seem as if no one could hear my cries for help.

The guy gripped my arm tighter, his eyes filled with a mix of drunken determination. He leaned in closer, his face twisted with frustration. "Why are you making this so difficult? Just one drink, come on."

He forced me into an empty, private room, his grip on my arm still strong, leaving me with a sense of dread. The music was a distant throb outside, leaving me more isolated in this unsettling scenario.

His grip faltered as someone unexpectedly appeared, a figure entering the room with a decisive move. Before the guy could even think of pulling me fully into the room, someone intervened, delivering a well-aimed punch to his gut. The guy groaned, doubled over in pain as he released his grip on me.

The guy fell to his knees, clutching his stomach as the force of the blow rippled through him. Confusion, pain, and shock replaced the smugness from before. I could only watch, relief washing over me as I realized I wasn't alone anymore.

The drunk guy, overwhelmed by the combination of alcohol and the punch, scrambled to his feet before stumbling out of the room, whimpering in pain. The sudden exit left me alone with the mysterious person who had stepped in to save me.

Lando rushed towards me, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion. The warm green in his eyes held a mix of worry and relief that I was alright.

He reached for my arm where the drunk guy had grabbed me before, inspecting the area to check if I was hurt. I could feel the tenderness as he gently ran his fingers over the spot, ensuring I was unharmed. Lando then gazed at my face, studying it for any signs of distress.

I gently pulled my hand away, forcing a small smile to reassure him. "I'm okay," I insisted, my voice steady but guarded. His concern was palpable, and I could see the relief in his eyes as he saw that I was not physically harmed.

Lando seemed desperate, unwilling to let me leave just yet. He reached for my arm again, his grasp gentle but firm. "Please, just hear me out," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

My response came sharp, biting. "Why would I? You didn't try to reach out, didn't try to find me, or even show an ounce of concern until now," I shot back, my words laced with bitterness and resentment.

Lando's response came with a mix of frustration and hidden emotion. "I haven't tried? Since our last talk, I've done everything I could to win you back," he retorted, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability. "Who do you think sent you all those gifts? Who else would know your work schedule, your favorite foods, your love for poems? I know I said I hated them, but for you, I embraced them."

His words were layered with hurt and a desire for reconciliation. Lando finally confessed, "It was me, all along. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you forever, so I hoped my gestures would speak for me." The pain in his face was evident, his eyes pleading for understanding.

I stammered at his words, a mixture of surprise and confusion overwhelming me. Never in my entire life I would've thought Lando would do all of this for me. My mind raced as I tried to comprehend the lengths he had gone to reach me.

My voice trembled as I spoke, "So... you were behind those text messages as well? How...? But I blocked all your accounts, even the new ones. How did you manage to send me messages?"

Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on mine as he confessed. "I bought a new phone with a different SIM card... just so I could message you." His answer hung in the air, the weight of his dedication palpable in the quiet space of the room.

He continued, his voice earnest, "I couldn't bear the silence between us, the distance. Even if you blocked me everywhere, I had to find a way to reach you, to express how I felt." The depth of his yearning and determination to keep the connection alive was evident in each word.

I remained silent, overwhelmed by his confession. Lando had gone to great lengths just to communicate with me, buying a new phone and SIM card, defying my attempts to cut off contact. The depth of his dedication was both touching and overwhelming. I couldn't deny the mix of emotions swirling within me.

Lando stood there, his eyes searching mine, desperate for a glimmer of hope. The air hung heavy with anticipation as he awaited my reaction, his vulnerability on full display, his heart on his sleeve.

I grappled for a response, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "I... I'm still processing this," I managed to utter, my voice filled with a mix of hurt and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Why let me think you didn't care?" I blurted out, a hint of betrayal seeping into my voice.

Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his shoulders slouching slightly. "I was afraid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of being rejected, scared that you would push me away if I tried to talk to you and most importantly scared you would've moved on. I thought sending those gifts and messages would be a way to reach out without directly risking rejection."

I stared at him, taken aback by his honesty. His confession laid bare his fears and insecurities, exposing the vulnerability beneath his usually composed facade. But my hurt remained, the sting of his silence lingering.

I couldn't hide my feelings, and I let my resentment spill out. "But you let me suffer!" I cried out, the pain pouring out in my words. "I thought you didn't care, that you moved on, while I was here, hurting over our broken relationship."

Lando's face contorted with pain at my outburst, his shoulders sinking lower. He took a step forward, bridging the gap between us. "I know, I know," he pleaded, his voice filled with regret. "I was a coward. I let fear dictate my choices, and I hurt you in the process. I'm sorry."

I wanted to believe him, to fall into the comfort of his apology and the sweet gestures he had made, but the wounds of the past remained. The memories of his silence, his refusal to communicate, and the pain I endured still weighed heavily on my heart.

Lando saw the hesitance in my eyes, noticed the barrier I had put up. His expression pleaded with me, a mixture of sorrow and yearning. I could tell he wanted me to forgive him, to let him back in.

"Lando, I'm so conflicted," I confessed, my voice cracking. The wounds of the past still fresh, I couldn't let go easily. "How can I trust that you won't hurt me again? I've suffered so much because of you, how can I be sure you won't do something like this again?" I asked, hoping for an answer that would quell my doubts. The pain was still too raw to simply forgive and forget.

Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his face a mask of sorrow and guilt. He knew he had caused me pain and had no right to expect forgiveness so easily. He stepped closer, the gap between us becoming smaller. With a gentle voice, he spoke. "I don't ask for you to trust me instantly," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't make the same mistakes again. Please, just give me a chance to show you."

I held his gaze, my eyes pleading for understanding. "I need some time," I implored, my voice shaky. "I can't just forget overnight. Give me the space to process everything, to heal." The emotions coursing through me were overwhelming, and I needed time to make sense of the rollercoaster of events.

Lando's response was gentle and resolute. "I will wait for you. Remember, even if it takes ten years," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."

I looked back at Lando, his pleading eyes yearning for a reprieve. With a heavy heart, I whispered, "Goodbye," and reluctantly turned away. The music and lights faded as I weaved through the crowd, searching for my best friend who had remained oblivious to the emotional storm that had just unfolded between Lando and me.

I found my best friend in the crowd, her smile lighting up upon seeing me. However, her smile quickly faded as she saw the tears streaming down my face. Without a word, she stood up, concern etched on her face.

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me towards the exit. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with understanding. "Let's go home."

We stepped out of the club, the cool outside air a stark contrast to the stifling heat inside. We hailed an Uber, and my bestie decided to spend the night to provide comfort and lend an ear.

We settled into the car, the soft hum of the engine accompanying us as we made our way home. I took a deep breath, preparing to recount the tumultuous events of the evening to my best friend.

The Uber pulled up in front of my building, and we disembarked, the night's cool air a stark reminder of the emotional journey I had been through. We made our way into my house, the silence between us filled with anticipation.

We entered my house, the familiarity of the space providing a semblance of comfort. My bestie guided me to the couch, pulling a blanket over us as we settled in for what was sure to be a long night of conversation.

I poured my heart out, recounting every detail, from Lando's apology to the painful memories that still lingered. My best friend listened intently, her eyes widening in surprise and shock as she took in the emotional rollercoaster I had described.

She was stunned, her face reflecting the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded. "Wow," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't believe he did all that."

My voice trembled with uncertainty, "I don't know what to do," I confessed, my emotions a tumultuous mess. "I want to trust him, but it's so hard to ignore the pain he caused. It feels like a never-ending cycle of confusion and fear." I rested my head on my friend's shoulder, seeking solace in her presence.

She rubbed my back soothingly, her support an anchor that kept me from drifting further into despair. In a gentle yet reassuring tone, she spoke. "It's okay to feel conflicted. Trust is earned, and forgiveness takes time. Don't rush yourself. Take whatever time you need to figure out what you want." She held me closer, offering her presence as a grounding force amidst the chaos.

My best friend posed the question that echoed within me, "Do you still love him?" The question sliced through the air, digging deep into emotions I had tried to bury.

Hesitantly, I met her gaze, tears glistening in my eyes. "I… I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

My friend's words were honest, cutting through the confusion. She persisted, "That isn't an answer, y/n. It's a simple yes or no question." I remained silent for a long moment, my emotions swirling inside. Finally, after an excruciating pause, I whispered, "Fine, yes. Yes, I still love him." The admission hung in the air, vulnerable and raw.

My best friend looked at me, her eyes mirroring a mixture of understanding and support. "Give him a chance," she urged, her voice gentle yet firm. "Don't give in immediately. See how far he's willing to go. If he goes beyond just gifts and gestures, you'll know he's sincere.''

A wave of confusion washed over me, and I turned to her for clarification. "What do you mean, 'beyond gifts and gestures'?" I inquired, the words tumbling out in a whispered plea for understanding.

She seemed to gather her thoughts for a moment, then met my gaze with an earnest expression. "I mean, beyond just grand gestures. Beyond the gifts and the poems. Love is about more than just gestures. It's about genuine care, about being there for each other, through every high and low. It's about trust and communication. Those are the true tests of sincere love," she replied, her words wise and heartfelt.

She continued, her voice steady. "If Lando truly cares about you, he will show it in every aspect of his life, not just with grand gestures. He will prioritize your needs, respect your boundaries, and be there for you, even in the most ordinary moments."

Her words resonated within me, their truth echoing in my heart. It didn't matter if he had sent flowers or sweet poems. Love wasn't just about gifts; it was about presence, understanding, and unwavering support through life's tumultuous journey.

We continued talking for hours, my best friend's words sinking deep into my thoughts. Eventually, we decided to call it a day, both exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster. My mind whirled with questions as we prepared to say our goodnights.

Lando's dedication persisted. In the days that followed, his gestures remained constant. I noticed flowers and chocolates carefully placed on my desk each morning, a poem hidden amidst the petals, and a warm coffee waiting when I arrived in the morning, exactly how I liked it.

Today it was different. I heard a knock on my office door, I replied with a simple 'come in' as the person entered. Lando stood in my office doorway, his hands holding my favorite coffee and a neatly prepared lunch. He spoke softly, concern in his voice.

"I hope I'm not interrupting, but I know you can get forgetful about your nutrition while working. So I brought you something." The gesture warmed my heart, leaving me momentarily speechless.

His willingness to break away from his busy schedule, solely to ensure I took care of myself, touched me deeply.

"Thank you," I expressed gratefully, touched by his thoughtfulness. I had to ask him, curious about the sacrifice of his valuable time. "But aren't you busy? You still made time for this?"

Lando responded, his voice gentle yet sincere. "I'm busy," he admitted. "But I make time for you because you matter to me."

His simple yet powerful response struck a chord within me. In the midst of the busyness of life, he had made time for me, prioritizing my wellbeing. It spoke volumes about his devotion and care, that he was willing to sacrifice his valuable time just to ensure I wasn't neglecting myself.

The sincerity in his eyes and the way he stood in my office doorway, a small lunch in hand, felt overwhelming. It was as if he was trying to prove that he valued our connection more than the hustle and bustle of life.

In the weeks that followed, Lando's gestures became an integral part of my routine. He arrived at my office each morning with my favorite coffee, not missing a single day, even when I forgot it myself. During lunch breaks, he carefully watched over me, ensuring I ate, sometimes even bringing me delectable meals he prepared himself. He began helping me with paperwork, even when he didn't have the expertise—a gesture that left me touched.

Once, when I found a mouse in my apartment, he came at 4 a.m., not hesitating for a moment despite having an early flight.

His devotion continued. In the midst of his travels, he remained constant in sending me thoughtful gifts. The distance didn't seem to matter as his love crossed time and continents.

With each passing day, my heart opened up a little more. His gestures filled my heart with a mix of gratitude, warmth, and a hint of rekindling love.

It seemed like any ordinary day, with Lando on the other side of the world for a race. I was engulfed in my work, my focus solely on the paperwork, to the neglect of myself. Suddenly, my colleague Linda burst into my office.

Linda spoke with concern, her voice filled with worry. "You've been working nonstop. Come on, let's get something to eat." I protested, insisting on finishing my task first, but Linda's stern expression was unrelenting. I agreed reluctantly, rising from my seat. Little did I know, the world was about to spin.

As we walked, I started feeling dizzy, an unfamiliar sensation overtaking me. Linda's voice was heard from beside me. "Sweetheart are you alright?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I quickly reassured Linda, believing I had just stood up too quickly. Yet, before I could take another step, my world slipped away, and I plunged into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Linda witnessed the sudden collapse and hurried to my side, concern filling her voice. "y/n, are you okay?" she asked urgently, but I was unresponsive, the world around me fading into blackness.

The sound of voices echoed in the distance, Linda's voice calling my name. However, the comforting embrace of darkness held me captive.

As I emerged from the haze of unconsciousness, I felt a soothing yet firm hold on my hand. I groaned softly, my eyes slowly creaking open, reluctantly adjusting to the stark brightness of my surroundings.

As my vision cleared, I realized I was in a hospital room. The sterile environment, the soft hum of medical equipment, and the distinctive smell of antiseptic filled the air. I heard someone calling my name, I turned my head, my gaze drifting towards the source of the voice that called my name.

I blinked, still in a state of surprise to see Lando beside me. He looked at me with concern, his presence unexpected given that he was supposed to be on the opposite side of the globe. He spoke urgently, "How are you feeling? Should I call for a doctor?" His worry was evident in his eyes as he waited for my response.

Amidst the haze of confusion and exhaustion, my mind clung to one question. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice weak but filled with surprise. "You're supposed to be on the other side of the world."

His response caught me off guard, touching my heart amidst the whirlwind of emotions. "I'm you're emergency contact," he reminded me, and the realization set in.

He had crossed continents and time zones, arriving swiftly on his private jet, driven by his concern for my well-being. I had been asleep for 12 hours, and in that timeframe, he had made his way across the globe to be by my side.

The depth of his commitment touched my heart. Despite the demands of his career, he had flown across the world to be by my side, prioritizing my well-being above everything else. The knowledge that he was my emergency contact made a surge of warmth flow through me. It was a reminder of my significance in his life and the lengths he would go to for me.

I tried to compose myself, my voice still weak, I told him, "You shouldn't have done this. You have important things to attend."

Guilt tugged at me, knowing he had sacrificed his commitments to be here. His racing schedule, his career, everything seemed secondary to his concern for me in that moment.

Lando shook his head, his expression resolute. "I don't care, none of it matters as much as you do," he insisted, his gaze filled with sincerity. He reached out to gently hold my hand, his touch comforting. "Nothing is as important as you," he repeated, emphasizing his priorities.

His words struck a nerve, causing a mix of emotions to rise within me. Tears welled up in my eyes, his unwavering devotion filling me with a combination of gratitude and sorrow. I had doubted him, feared a lack of commitment, yet here he was, proving me wrong in the most dramatic way possible.

His presence in the hospital room, despite the distance he traveled, felt surreal. The sound of medical equipment beeping in the background seemed distant compared to the intense emotions swirling between us. Lando held my hand, his touch warm and reassuring.

In that moment of tender silence, Lando spoke again. His voice was soft, carrying a mix of concern and affection. He squeezed my hand gently, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm. "I was so worried," he admitted, his eyes locked on mine. "Seeing you here in the hospital... was terrifying."

His eyes mirrored the vulnerability he rarely displayed, raw emotions laid bare. The fear he had felt, the concern that gripped him, all visible in his expression. The reality of the situation weighed heavily between us, his emotions palpable and sincere.

I offered a reassuring smile, trying to ease his worries, though the weakness in my voice betrayed my fatigue. "I'm okay," I whispered, exhaustion evident in my words. My weak hand attempted to squeeze his in return, hoping to show my gratitude despite my physical state.

Lando's grip on my hand tightened, his thumb tracing comforting circles on my skin. His gaze remained focused on me, studying my face, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He was skeptical of my reassurance, his worry etched on his furrowed brow.

We delved into conversation, discussing random topics, our worries fading into the background. Our chat was filled with laughter and genuine connection. However, our peaceful moment was interrupted when the doctor entered the room for a routine check-up. The doctor informed me that I was discharged, giving me the okay to leave.

Lando assisted me in gathering my belongings, the tenderness in his gestures evident. He carried my bag and carefully guided me out of the hospital room. We paced side by side, making our way to Lando's car parked outside.

We traveled in a soothing silence, the weight of the hospital now off our shoulders. As we reached my place, Lando diligently helped me bring my belongings inside and prepared to leave. But before he could go, he paused and called my name, the sound breaking the tranquility.

I turned my attention his way, meeting his eyes with curiosity. "Yes?" I responded, wondering what was on his mind. His voice had held a hint of hesitation, as if there was something important he wanted to convey.

He inhaled sharply, the weight of his question becoming apparent. He spoke with vulnerability, "There's something I want to ask you. You're free to refuse, but I genuinely want to ask... Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?"

I was initially startled, but the anticipation in his eyes was evident. He swiftly added, "Only if you want it to be a date of course" I could see the sincerity in his gaze. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I accepted his invitation, my voice steady with anticipation. "Yes."

The relief and happiness that washed over Lando's face at my acceptance were evident. His shoulders relaxed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You'll go on a date with me?" he asked, a mix of surprise and joy in his tone. "Really?"

The vulnerability in Lando's voice hinted at the significance of my acceptance. He was eager to hear my confirmation once more, his eyes glimmering with hope. I smiled warmly, reassuring him, "Yes, I'll go on a date with you."

We bid each other good night, both feeling the exhilaration of the upcoming date. The way we acted mirrored that of teenagers experiencing their first date, a mix of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. As we exchanged a final glance, our connection felt like a magnetic pull, both eager for the moment to come. The goodbye lingered for a few moments, filled with electricity.

The evening of our date arrived, and my best friend was diligently working on styling my hair, while I focused on applying my makeup. She fussed over my locks, while I carefully applied concealer and mascara to enhance my eyes. My outfit hung on the closet's door, chosen for the evening. The weight of my excitement made my heart flutter in anticipation of the night ahead.

My best friend, brushing through my hair as she styled it, spoke up. "You know, Lando really went above and beyond for you, don't you think he deserves a chance?" she said, emphasizing his efforts.

There was a pause as I met her gaze in the mirror, a mix of emotions coursing through me. I set down my mascara and turned to face her, the weight of her words settling.

She looked at me, waiting for my response, her eyes filled with a mix of encouragement and genuine concern. The reminder of Lando's efforts weighed heavily on my thoughts. He had shown dedication and cared for me, but my past fears and apprehensions lingered, making it hard to fully let go.

I took a moment, considering her words. Inhaling deeply, I nodded, offering a soft smile of agreement. "Yeah, I know," I admitted, my voice a mix of vulnerability and hope. "But it's... it's hard to trust after everything."

I voiced my intentions, my eyes glimmering with determination. "I want to give him a chance," I declared, my resolve strengthened. "Not just a chance, but an opportunity to show me that he's worth trusting." My past pain weighed heavily on my heart, but the hope in my voice was undeniable.

Her squeal of happiness filled the room, echoing her encouragement. "Oh my god, y/n! I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You're doing the right thing, giving him a shot. He'll make you so happy!"

She grinned, her excitement infectious. "I can feel it in my bones, this is gonna be great. He's going to sweep you off your feet."

We concluded our primping, with my best friend leaving with a parting "keep me updated, and good luck!" The anticipation in my stomach intensified, a mix of excitement and nerves gripping me. I took another glance in the mirror, taking in my appearance one last time.

I was wearing a black off shoulder dress, that hugged my curves nicely. I paired it with the famous uncomfy YSL heels and matching purse. My hair was styled in a beautiful blow out flowing over my shoulders. I sighed one more time before grabbing my stuff.

The doorbell echoed through the room, signaling Lando's arrival with its gentle tone. My heart leaped in my chest, his presence just outside my door.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and then opened the door. Lando stood there, his presence immediately filling the space, and warmth spread through my chest. He looked handsome, his well-groomed appearance evident, but it was his warm eyes and gentle smile that greeted me.

Lando stood before me, a bouquet of vibrant flowers in hand. His expression was one of awe, his words momentarily lost. He managed to compose himself and spoke, his voice filled with admiration. "You look absolutely stunning," he said, his eyes drinking in the sight of me.

The flowers were a beautiful display of color, their delicate petals reflecting the soft light of the hallway. Lando held them out, offering them to me like a bouquet of promises. I extended my hand, taking them with a soft smile, his compliment making my cheeks flush.

We walked out together, arm in arm, the cold evening air washing over us. Lando guided me to his car, opening the passenger door and helping me inside as a gentleman. As we settled in, the city lights danced outside, casting a cozy ambiance in the car.

We arrived at the restaurant, a charming Italian bistro with soft lighting and a cozy ambiance. Lando got out, rushing to open my door, offering a hand to help me out with a soft smile. The scent of fresh herbs and garlic filled the air, a promise of a delicious meal to come.

We stepped inside, the warmth wrapping around us. The atmosphere was romantic, with soft music playing in the background. Lando guided me to a table by the windows, pulling out my chair before taking a seat himself. Candles flickered on the table, casting a soft glow over everything.

We settled into our seats at the table, the ambiance around us serene and inviting. The waiter approached, greeting us warmly and setting menus before us. The scent of fresh bread and delectable aromas wafted from the kitchen, fueling the anticipation for the meal ahead.

Lando spoke with confidence, knowing my preferences. "What do you want to get?" he asked, but before I could respond, he answered himself, "No, I know already. Let me guess... the carbonara." A smile tugged at my lips as he remembered my favorites so effortlessly. I replied, "You know it," a mix of affection and appreciation filling my voice. His attention to detail and memories of things I liked made my heart swell with warmth.

The night unfolded, filled with lively conversation and laughter. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in our connection, the sound of others around us fading into the background. It felt as if the world had narrowed down to just us, an intimate bubble filled with shared laughter, stolen glances, and shared stories.

As the night drew to a close, neither of us wanted it to end. Lando paid for the meal, and I thanked him with genuine gratitude. We decided to take a stroll, drawn to a nearby bench that offered a view of the water. As we settled onto the bench, the gentle moonlight illuminated the night, casting a silvery glow over the water's surface.

I broke the comfortable silence, my voice soft and sincere. "Lando?" I began, my words carrying heartfelt appreciation. "I really enjoyed today. Thank you," I expressed, my eyes glimmering with warmth as I looked at him.

Lando met my gaze, a soft smile playing at his lips. He spoke with sincerity, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, his eyes mirroring the appreciation in mine. "It means the world to me that you had a good time. I truly enjoyed every moment with you."

I addressed the elephant in the room, acknowledging the immense effort he'd put in. "You know, you really have gone above and beyond for me these past months," I said, my tone sincere.

It had been a challenge to regain my trust, and Lando's consistent gestures had played a significant role in rebuilding it. His eyes glimmered with a mix of vulnerability and hope, absorbing my words.

Lando's voice was quiet as he responded, his tone sincere. "I know I have, but every moment of it was worth it," he confessed, his emotions clear in his eyes.

"I wanted to show you that you could trust me, that I would go to any lengths to earn your trust," he added, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and earnestness.

I continued, my questions flowing out. "What about after we get back together? Would you still care about me like this" I inquired, my eyes searching his.

Lando's expression shifted, vulnerability and sincerity mixing in his gaze.

"After we get back together, I want to cherish every moment even more," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to support you, care for you, and be there for you through anything. I want to keep building on the trust we have and make our relationship stronger than ever."

His sincere words found their way to my heart, a tenderness washing over me. The vulnerability in his expression, combined with his commitment to cherishing our relationship, stirred something within me.

I spoke up, my voice soft but filled with resolution. "I think," I began, "I'm ready to be yours again."

Lando stood up, his eyes wide with disbelief, his emotions overwhelming him. He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the bench in a tight embrace.

As he spun us around in a whirlwind of joy, he spoke with heartfelt conviction, "I won't disappoint you ever again. I love you so much."

His hands remained on my waist, a tender touch that seemed to anchor me. I felt a surge of warmth and contentment as I replied with a giggle that turned into laughter, sharing in Lando's excitement.

"I love you too, Lan," I confessed, my eyes glimmering with affection

Lando's grip on my waist tightened as he pulled me into a passionate kiss, a fusion of his emotions and desires. The softness of the moment contrasted with the intensity of our feelings, the kiss sending a surge of electricity through my body. I melted into his embrace, returning the kiss.

As the kiss intensified into a make-out session, I reluctantly pulled away, the reminder of Lando's fame echoing in my mind. However, Lando was unfazed, his response quick and resolute.

He shrugged off the potential consequences, insisting, "Let them see. I've got my girl back, and that's all that matters." His smile was filled with a mixture of certainty and passion as he pulled me back, their lips meeting once more in a toe-curling kiss that seemed to defy any outside concerns.

The moon shone down, lighting up the night as Lando wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close, and we walked back to his car. The air held a delicate sense of anticipation, and as we drove away, I nestled my head against Lando's shoulder, feeling safe and cherished.

Gratitude and affection swelled within me as I realized I had given Lando another chance, and that my heart had bloomed open once again. I smiled, my thoughts swirling with appreciation and love for the incredible journey we were about to embark on.

The end

[threepandas]

Bad End: Trust

"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"

I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.

Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.

They'll kill me.

Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.

It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.

Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.

I... I was scared.

Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.

How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...

I'm so scared.

The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.

They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.

Okay, REALLY handsome.

Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.

(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)

Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.

We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.

(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)

Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.

Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.

Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.

Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?

Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...

So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.

"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."

I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.

"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."

Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.

I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.

Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!

"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."

"I Love You."

[coffeegnomee]

I finally finished the vod and BRO. derap just reminds me so much of eclipse zam. I think that's why i forgive all his wrongs. his leading questions, his wanting proof of change of zam choosing him over mapicc.

Derap has found himself on a team that he loves dearly. That he never wants to leave. That he refuses to leave. That was there for him at his lowest, and accepted him in when he had nothing. (and he feels like the anchor to keep zam from going evil, feels like he's making positive change on zam whom he was (and still is) convinced will go insane and evil if he doesn't take care of himself)

And every conversation he thinks zam will be the one to leave him. kick him out.

Every damn meeting in eclipse zam left being like "yippee im so glad they didn't kick me off the team!" completely, completely missing the concept that vi and subz desperately loved him and didn't want him to leave. the last thing they wanted was for eclipse to fall apart. they would change and adjust the plan as much as necessary to make zam know they wanted him to stay. that they wanted him to love the project they were working towards. and every time zam said he was okay with the plan again, they breathed a sign of relief.

But every day zam swallowed his own opinion and kept moving forward with the team. and freaking derapchu is doing the same thing. there have been so many instances of this, i could never list them all. zam thought of bringing his tree from spawn to zaun and derap almost said he hated how it looked and zam shouldn't build it, but swallowed that and said if zam wanted to build it he could. he said he wanted to start going on a murder spree and zam said he didn't want that at all, and next thing you know derap is saying he doesn't want to kill anymore. There's a hundred little instances of derap realizing his opinions differ from zam's wants and he shoves his own opinions away. if he doesn't, he will be kicked off the team.

And as derap tries to bring up what his concerns are, he shoves the responsibility for deciding the fate of the team on zam. Just like zam did. zam could not tell eclipse he wanted to leave, he wanted them to choose for him.

eclipse was doomed because zam had to face the fact that he couldn't put his needs last. that he couldn't just ignore what mattered most to him. period. and because he was terrible at confrontation and communication.

and somehow derap, despite founding this team precisely upon making zam realize he needs to put himself first and be selfish, doesn't realize he needs to do that too. and that he's not doing it. even if he rebuttled zam when zam brought that up. tbh imo he switched it up fast when zam brought that point up.

it does help that zam isn't lying to derap: unfortunately eclipse was keeping secrets from zam. big secrets.

But derap is convinced zam is still lying to him. he said it and then immediately went back on it.

And fundamentally, it was not so much that eclipse lied to zam about the wormhole, and more that zam thought they were lying when they said they weren't going to be the villains. he didn't believe that it was about protecting the three of them, not taking over the server. and it was always about protecting them. vi proved that in the end with banning himself and letting spoke completely take over the project.

There is a massive conflict of interest and a deep insecure distrust. and derap cannot admit how much that bothers him. he says he's fine with zam doing things with mapicc. he says he's just wants zam to be happy. but he is so desperately unhappy. no matter how much he insists on the opposite.

devotions only got their win (yipppe!!!) because zam refused to stop talking to mapicc and mapicc felt comfortable enough saying exactly what he thought. and then zam felt comfortable saying exactly what he thought too. both aired their real grievances, not shooting hypotheticals and asking only for the other to make choices about wether or not they would stay teamed. and it earned apologies and resolution all around. devotions w.

and mapicc compromised with zam, he didn't change his opinion for him. he still thinks mawn was good, did do good, doesn't want to let it go, but thinks it's done what it was meant to do. so he is letting it fade away. zam compromised with mapicc. he still thinks mawn was too much, that he can't join it, that he won't go against it, but thinks maybe it wasn't all bad. so he's going to help mapicc if mapicc needs help. W being secure in having your own opinions.

derap keeps changing his opinion for zam.

maybe they don't fall apart. derap is not zam. everybody is unique. but damn if the parallels aren't here and aren't looming like a storm cloud over it all.

[sports-on-sundays]

this simple feeling / LN4 & OP81 / Part 3

Summary: Lando x female!Australian!McLaren marketing unit worker!reader x childhood best friend!Oscar - Two Formula 1 drivers who just so happen to race for McLaren also just so happen to have fallen for you. Link to part 1, link to part 2

Warnings: I think I might've messed up the timeline just alittle bit but that's okayyyy (probably should have all taken place like a week or two later but I only realized that after it was all written so I guess you'll just have to deal with it; I'm sincerely sorry), language, sickness, vertigo, let me know if there's more I missed

Requested?: To be honest, I don't think so, but let me know if I forgot about you.👍

A handsome smile adorns Lando Norris's lips as he strolls down the Spanish paddock, and it's extraordinary to believe that despite his outside cover, he has the most pounding headache.

It's all my fucking fault, his mind roars as he catches the eye of Max Verstappen walking past and gives him a friendly wave. Y/n is a nervous wreck over the whole situation, and Oscar seems like he's going to blow if he sees me show Y/n affection one more time.

Why did I ever fucking start this stupid, stupid 'relationship?' It's a mess, and it's all my fault.

And I've got no way of fixing it.

Maybe I should have just given up Y/n in the first place, before all this happened.

Maybe I am wrong for getting in the way of her and Oscar.

But a part of him knows that's not right. He could never give you up. You could never give him up. And neither of you could ever give up on Oscar.

Even though it's starting to look like that might just be the best for him. Or at least, the best option at this point.

After I've gone and messed it all up.

For once in his life, sleep won't just take Oscar Piastri.

It sounds stupid, because he shouldn't be going to sleep. Not here. Not now. But as he lay in his driver's room, all he wishes is for sleep to take him away from his never-ending thoughts into a peaceful, sweet, dreamless slumber.

But every time he tries to replace his current ones with new ones, his brain always leads him back to the main point:

You messed up.

He sighs. He's just being over dramatic, isn't he? Isn't that all it is? Shouldn't he just get over himself?

It's not that he doesn't like Lando. In fact, he does. A... well, a lot. He could see himself having real affection towards him.

He might even want to.

But that longing, confused part in his brain keeps coming back to: But what if Y/n loves him more? Isn't he just getting in the way of what you always wanted?

Isn't this unfair, Oscar?

But that's just the worst part of it all.

It's not unfair. Not one bit.

For your whole life, Oscar has known you. For years, he's cared about you. He's even loved you. He just never said it. Always held back. When he shouldn't have.

If he had just acted way before, in the beginning, it would've been just you and him. That's the way it would have been, and Lando would have never gotten in the way.

But, Oscar's brain whispers, almost like a sneaking suspicion, do you really want Lando out of this, now that he's in it?

Maybe I just have to learn to accept it. Accept him. Trust them both.

Do I just need to get over myself?

Because I am the only reason why this isn't working...

Right?

No one else can feel it, but it's getting awkward. Not even so much in private. In private, Lando is honest, and Oscar tries. In private, you see. They're not all lovey dovey, but they care about each other. It's like all is well, though you and Lando both know how Oscar can get.

But in public, it's worse. Terribly worse. It's like Lando and Oscar want to have something, but they can't. It's like Lando wants it but Oscar won't let him... and, at the same time, as if Oscar wants it but Oscar also won't let himself.

Why not?

In public, since they have to fake, it's like it's hard not to. Because they're closer than friends, but not more than that.

In private, they're trying to fake, so it almost comes easier.

But in public, they almost avoid each other at the same time as being super friendly with each other when they do have to talk.

You hate it.

A huge part of you wonders: If Oscar likes Lando back, why doesn't he just relax and let this whole thing work? Doesn't he need it?

Doesn't he need Lando, just the same way I need him?

He certainly acts like it. Sometimes. The only solution you can think of, though a not very clear or perhaps not very accurate one, and one with certainly no answer, is this:

He wants you more than anything. But he needs Lando more than anything.

But because he wants you so bad, it hurts him to see Lando having you.

Though he has you, too.

But he can't let himself break out and let himself love Lando back, because his feelings towards you are so incredibly strong.

You sigh.

Oscar. Why can't you just give up? Give in? Why can't I show you just how much I adore you?

What do I have to do to show you?

Is there anything I can do that would be enough?

You sigh. What if you're all wrong? What if Oscar really can't love Lando back? What if this whole thing is bound to fail?

What if there's absolutely no solution?

As anxiety begins to fill your chest, you feel as though you're right back at square one again.

Why didn't I just choose, from the beginning? Wouldn't it have been better to break one of their hearts, than all three of our hearts?

Because isn't that what is going on right now?

We're all breaking.

And we wouldn't be if I hadn't ever, ever let it get this fair.

Damn it.

It really is all my fault.

Maybe it's all the stress, or maybe it's just the natural way of things, but either way, by the time a week later that the Austrian Grand Prix comes around, you are in no world feeling well enough to go to it.

Of course, that's fine. You're sick; no one will have a problem with you staying home to rest up and get better. There are plenty of other people who can take care of your usual responsibilities for one race weekend. That's not really a big deal at all.

Of course, Lando and Oscar sure treated the whole thing as one, both of them talking about how one of them should stay with you, and how are you going to get on by yourself, and they feel like such bad boyfriends for leaving you in your unwell state, and so on. Blah, blah, blah.

Really, it was the sweetest thing. You know you shouldn't complain. But you did end up telling the two they were both wrong, not to worry, go race, and it's quite easy to FaceTime and stay in touch so they can check up on you over the weekend.

So despite whatever your boyfriends think about it, that's the decision you made sure was made, because there was no way you'd let either of them do something so ridiculous as to miss a race because of you.

Especially not the Austrian Grand Prix, for God's sake.

Well, whether Lando and Oscar would admit it or not, both of them, in their own little ways, see this as an opportunity for connection with each other.

One-on-one.

So now, of course, Lando has been the sole thing, other than racing, that's been on Oscar's mind all weekend. So much so that he finds himself wandering towards Lando's driver's room after qualifying, his heart leading the way more so rather than his head.

When he reaches the door, he finds it ajar, and peeks in through the door frame, his heart pounding.

Why is his heart pounding?

He swallows, his eyes resting on Lando relaxing, scrolling his phone. He hasn't seen Oscar yet.

Lando. There's a lot I like about him.

Let's just try this. Just for now, forget about Y/n. Think about Lando. Think about all the reasons why you care about him. Think about it as if it were just you and him.

Would you want it to work?

He knows the answer, but wouldn't dare let himself consciously think it.

Oscar gently knocks on the door, as to avoid startling Lando, before saying softly, "Hey, Lando?"

The British man immediately looks up, his hazel eyes meeting Oscar's plain old brown ones. Though he doesn't smile, his eyes soften. And brighten. "Hey, Oscar." He sits up a bit, as to make more room on the sofa. "Wanna come in?"

Oscar nods, stepping inside. Gently closes the door behind himself. Somehow, Lando seems to understand.

He sits down. Closer to him. Turns and looks him right in the eyes. Opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it when he realizes he has nothing to say.

Lando talks instead. "How are you?"

"Fine... and you?"

"Good... I think the race should be promising."

Oscar nods in agreement. The silence feels so simply empty.

"You missing Y/n? Is that what it is?" Lando gently asks.

Oscar considers that for a few seconds, before slowly shaking his head 'no.' "Of course, I wouldn't mind her being here. But that's not it."

"What's 'it,' then?" Lando asks.

Somehow, he just knows, doesn't he?

Oscar's starting to see why you might love that about him so much.

"It's not Y/n I'm missing. I guess I'm missing you. And me. I'm missing us."

"Hm," Lando says simply, seeming to ponder that for a few seconds, before saying softly, almost as a dare, "How could you miss 'us,' if 'us' was never a thing?"

Oscar feels the sudden urge to reach out towards Lando. Put his hand on his, or fix that loose curl, or do something.

But he holds back. Like he's always done with you.

God damn it. Am I really doing it again?

What am I even doing?

"I guess..." Oscar murmurs after some hesitation, staring down towards the tiled floor, "I miss the 'us' that could be and should be but never has been."

Oscar feels Lando look up towards him, but continues staring at the floor.

"Look at me."

But Oscar doesn't dare.

That's when Lando gently moves his hand to grab Oscar's chin and force his head to look at him. Not in an overly gentle way, but not in a way that hurts.

Oscar sighs. Those eyes.

When did he start liking them so much?

"We can make that reality," Lando murmurs, in the same determined way he talks about sports, or strategies. "We can make it happen. You don't have to miss me, or Y/n, and we can make 'us' come true."

Oscar gulps. Nods, though he knows not why.

Maybe it's because I really do want it.

I do, don't I?

Us.

Lando reaches over and grabs Oscar's hand strongly. Wraps his hand around the other man's. "This simple feeling..." Lando whispers. "Don't you like it?"

Oscar swallows. "I don't know if I like it, but..."

Lando waits for him to finish, even after he's trailed off.

"...but I think I know that it's exactly what... what I need."

Lando sighs. A little smile even begins to sneak up on his lips, just gently. Softly. Hardly there.

That's when he leans in and pulls him into a hug. And embrace. And it's refuge that Oscar finds there, in his arms. The same kind of irreplaceable refuge he finds in your arms. He sighs, wrapping his arms back around Lando, feeling the warmth of his body around him like a blanket.

"This simple feeling," Oscar murmurs this time, mirroring Lando's words, swallowing, his voice cracking softly, though tears don't threaten to fall.

It's just a little raw.

"This simple feeling... it's exactly what I want. What I need. From both of you.

"It's like I'd be content if we let this last forever," Oscar finishes softly with, close to Lando's ear.

"We can make it last forever," Lando utters back.

And all time stops in that little room as the two men embrace. A cavern of honesty and truth.

A safe place that promises to hold them forever.

It's funny how someone's cares and concerns can be washed away so quickly.

Like, for example, Oscar's podium at the Austrian Grand Prix in 2024, seeing his team grin up at him, spraying the champagne with George and Carlos, the joy of getting second place.

Partially, also, the joy of being the one to score points for the team.

But once that's all done and he's talking and doing all that PR, it starts nagging at him. You're not here, which means Lando's all alone.

Probably fucking pissed off.

P20.

So it's a mix. He got 2nd! But Lando got 20th.

So he tries to get through all the PR gobbly-gook as fast as possible, while still putting on a good face, since he knows you'll particularly care a lot if he screws up all his interviews the one race you weren't able to make it.

As soon as he's set free from his duties, though, he rushes to Lando's driver's room. On the way, someone even grabs his arm, saying, "Oscar! Oscar! An autograph? Please?" but he brushes them off, saying, "If you stay around, I'll be back to give it to you!" before just running off again.

He honestly can't grasp why he's so particularly and intensely desperate to see Lando.

It's because he did something for me last night when I needed him. Now I can't just leave him when he needs me most.

Soon, he reaches the latched closed door and knocks hard, saying, "Lando? Are you in there?"

There's a few moments of silence, and for a moment Oscar's nerves tell him that Lando isn't even here, and that he ignored that fan for no reason at all, until those thoughts are interrupted with Lando responding with a heavy sigh in his voice, "Osc? You can come in."

Oscar sighs with a certain amount of relief before gently opening the door and letting it shut behind him.

Lando is standing, not facing Oscar, on his phone, texting. Head down.

"How're you-"

"Texting Y/n."

Oscar nods, slowly walking up behind him. He gently rests a hand on Lando's shoulder, and says softer, "What's she saying?"

"Everything she has to in order to try and make me feel less like shit."

"Is it working?"

Lando turns, looking over his shoulder back at Oscar with a wry smile, saying, "Not at all. Max is a fucking-"

"Cheater, aggressive driver, idiot, bad sportsman. I know that's everything you're going to say. You just need to blow off some steam, hm?"

Lando snorts, shutting off his phone, hanging his head. "I've had an hour and a half to do that since the race."

"It takes a while," Oscar says simply, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Lando sighs, nodding. "I know... I guess I'm not even really that mad anymore. Just disappointed. And frustrated."

Oscar nods, glancing away, beginning to slip his hand off Lando's shoulder.

But Lando reaches back, slipping his hand over Oscar's to keep it there, dragging his other hand over his face with a heavy sigh

It's then that Oscar suddenly feels compelled to do something he never thought he would.

Yet he gives in, simply because it feels like exactly the right thing to do in the moment. So he wraps both arms around Lando from behind, pulling him towards himself, letting his nose and lips press against his neck, next to Lando's ear.

Lando sighs in something like contentment.

And Oscar feels himself smiling softly, before it quickly fades off, and he whispers gently in Lando's neck, "You're a good driver. You would've won that race. But I also know that means you'll be able to win the next one, hm?"

Lando nods, sighing. "You're right. I know you're right."

Oscar nods, murmuring, "But you have every right to be upset. And I'll be with you during that working through it as long as you want me to be."

Lando feels an unexpected smile begin to creep up on his face as he mutters, "I want you here with me every single moment you want to be here, Oscar."

"Yeah? It's funny how I've started to like to be with you more."

"I guess that's just my natural charm, hm?" Lando says softly, his smile growing.

Oscar can almost not believe how he naturally chuckles at that and responds softly, "I don't know about that..."

Lando is full on grinning now. That handsome, big, sunny smile of his. "Just ask Y/n about it. She'll tell you all about my charm."

"Hah," Oscar says sarcastically, but for some reason, instead of coldness, like that comment might used to have filled his chest with, he feels an undeniable, affectionate warmth fill his body.

A feeling that he seems to like a lot more.

He just re-wraps his arms around Lando and responds softly, "I'm sure Y/n would tell you all about my charm, too, Lando."

Lando smirks, glancing back at Oscar, meeting the Australian's milk chocolate eyes. "But you don't have to ask Y/n to hear about how charming you are, Oscar. I could talk about that all night." Lando's honestly not sure where all this bravery on his part is coming from, but he's honestly glad for it. Since it seems to be going down well.

Oscar's eyebrows raise as his light complexion becomes slightly flushed. "Hm. You could?"

"Oh yeah," Lando laughs a bit. A beautiful sound. Then the two remain in that peaceful silence, before Oscar lets his hands slip away from Lando gently.

Lando turns, taking the younger man's hand in his, looking earnestly into his eyes. "Hey. Congratulations on your P2, by the way. I was so caught up in my own shit, I completely forgot about your-"

"Don't worry," Oscar says, waving it off. "I don't mind. But thank you, anyway."

Lando grins, leaning in to kiss his cheek and saying simply, "No, thank you, Oscar. Look at the way you've managed to cheer me up like that, huh?"

Oscar smiles at that, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, perhaps in something like peace, or trust, for him to murmur, "Not sure how that happened..."

"Guess it's just that charm of yours we previously discussed, huh?"

And Oscar's eyes flutter open just in time to see Lando peck his lips.

And with Oscar's face fire hydrant red and Lando laughs filling the small room, I'll leave it up to the reader to go and imagine what could've happened next.

Oscar and Lando get out of the car, Lando holding some flowers and Oscar a grocery bag of goodies.

"You ready?" Lando says with a little smile, nodding to Oscar.

"Can't wait to see her, despite the poor state she must be in," Oscar says with a nod, and is about to start walking, when he suddenly stops and, with only a moment of hesitation beforehand, holds his hand out to Lando to take.

Lando looks at the hand, before looking up at Oscar again, taking his hand, with a little grin. He gives him a nod, before the two head off towards the house, hand-in-hand.

You're awakened in your feverish state by the ringing of the doorbell. You know you should get up and at least look to see who it is, but at the same time, who could it be? You're not expecting anyone. So you opt for the easier decision to just assume it's something unimportant like the mailman or something and leave it, letting yourself drift back into your feverish half-sleep.

But just as you're about to fully drift back off into slumber, it rings again. You sigh and stand up with an ornery groan, dragging your shaky legs to the window, to peek out of it, to see what on earth is so important.

But you stop as soon as you see them.

Your boys.

Lando holding flowers.

And what's more, they're holding each other's hands.

And they both look completely comfortable with it.

Really? Even Oscar?

He's not that good of an actor!

Soft smiles adorn both their handsome, perfect faces, shining like a charming prince and a shining knight.

Your foggy brain doesn't take the time to consider which is the prince and which is the knight, and you instead rush to the door right away, unlocking it and exclaiming, "Lan! Osc!" You stumble a bit dizzily as your weakened legs threaten to give out, but Lando's arm is there to steady you right away, keeping you from falling.

"Hey, Y/n," Oscar says gently, putting his arm on yours as Lando plants a quick kiss on your forehead, asking, "You okay?"

You sigh, nodding, and saying after the wave of vertigo subsides, "Just still a bit sick."

"No kidding. My God. Let's get you back inside and in your bed," Lando says gently, letting you use his arm to steady yourself as the three of you head inside and to your bedroom.

Once you're there and crawling back into bed, Lando hands Oscar the flowers and says, reaching in the shopping bag, "Got you some chicken noodle soup, Y/n. Want me to make you some?"

"Oh, God," you murmur, sinking back down against the pillow, "Yes, Lando, that'd be great."

He nods and leaves, going off to do that, leaving you with Oscar.

The first thing Oscar does is say, taking the blanket from the bottom of the bed, "Want this on?"

You nod, sniffing up your stuffed up nose. He gently tucks you in, kisses your forehead right where Lando kissed it, and grabs a tissue for you, seemingly out of thin air.

If you weren't a bit feverish, maybe you would of just known he got it out of the shopping bag. But you kind of missed that detail.

"We got you flowers," Oscar says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to you.

You smile softly, leaning up to smell the bouquet, saying weakly, "Aw... that's so lovely... You guys didn't have to."

He smiles softly. "We wanted to treat you. To show you how much we missed you this weekend." He brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, before frowning and murmuring, "You're really warm. Hey, I'll be right back, m'kay?"

You're not sure how long it takes, but in a bit, Oscar comes back to place a cool cloth on your forehead, and puts the flowers, now in a vase, next to you, on your nightstand.

"They're so pretty," you murmur softly, gratefulness to you warm in your voice.

Oscar smiles. "Pretty flowers for a pretty girl."

You smile softly, reaching to take his hand. "I like you like this."

"Like what?" his eyebrows raise.

"All soft. I like that."

He smiles. "Just taking care of you." He leans down and kisses your cheek, saying, "Can I get you anything? A drink? Water, tea?"

"Oh... I think I'm good. But thank you," you weakly smile.

He nods. "Are you comfortable? Do you want a fan, or another blanket, or anything?"

You shrug. "I dunno... Maybe a fan would be nice. There's a big one in the closet. Jus' put it on low."

He nods and immediately heads to do that. Once he's done, he goes straight to the windows, saying, "And the blinds? Are they good the way they are, or should I-"

"Oscar, Oscar," you say softly, giving a lazy wave of your hand. "None of that matter. Not really. I don't really care. Why don't you just stop worrying and running around and taking care of me and doing everything for just a moment and just come and be with me, huh? That's what I want for you to do the most. Just come be with me. Let's just talk, hm?"

Oscar blinks. "Oh. Of course." He nods, making his way across the room. As he settles down on the bed next to you, he says simply, "Sorry."

"Don't worry. I like it. You just need to give yourself a break, too. And I want to talk with you, Osc." You slip your hand in his.

He nods, and after a few seconds murmurs, "Maybe that's just what I want, too."

"See?" you smile softly up at him.

You sit together in silence for a bit, him gently rubbing your hand in his, before you finally think to ask, "So... How... How are things with you and Lando?"

"You noticed a change, didn't you, huh?"

"For the better. Unless I'm imagining. Or you suddenly became an amazing actor in one week."

He smiles, nodding. "Lando, he... I think we worked it out. I worked it out."

"Worked what out?"

"That I love you, and I might just love Lando, and that in order to love one, I've got to love the other."

You stare. "You... You and Lando?"

Oscar nods. "We talked. I think I can make this work now. Let this work. We can let this work."

You smile. "Hm. Really?" you look at him with fluttery eyes.

He shrugs, smiling softly. "I can't just care about myself. That's not what a relationship is about. Nor can I just care about you. Nor can I just care about Lando. It needs to be selfless, you know? We need to be there for each other."

You grin and murmur, "For some reason, Osc, I really wanna kiss you right now, but I'm sick. It's like you've just said what I've been dreaming for you to say for weeks now. Probably months."

He smiles, nodding. "I guess it was bound to happen. I just had some things to work through. And even though I don't even know how, and don't think he does, either, Lando helped me work through them, partially, too... Oh, and by the way, with the kiss thing?" he smiles, leaning down a bit closer, before murmuring, "I'm sure you won't get me sick. You're probably way past being contagious." And with that, he closes his eyes and leans in to kiss you gently.

It's then that Lando walks in and says with that cheeky smile of his, "Hey, lovebirds, can I get in on this? When's it my turn?"

You pull away from Oscar and tease, "Oh, get back in the kitchen!"

"Jeez! I guess I'll just eat your soup, then, if you're going to be like that!"

"Wait! No!" you say, reaching your arms out for the tray in his arms.

He chuckles, placing it in your lap, and says, slipping on the bed next to you, on the opposite as Oscar, "Did you really think I would eat your food?"

"You might..."

He grins. "I might."

"Hey!" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

Lando lays down next to you as Oscar says, "My goodness, Y/n, you're so peppy as soon as Lando enters the room. You were acting so sick before, just a few minutes ago!"

You grin, looking him over with a shrug, "I guess I liked the way you were treating me so softly and delicately. I didn't want you to stop feeling like you had to take care of me. Now, come on. You lay down next to me, too, won't you?"

Oscar smiles and does so, murmuring, "I guess I can't say no, huh?"

You smile, contented, shutting your eyes as you feel the warmth from both of them, on each of your sides, envelop you. "I guess not."

As you eat your soup, your boys snuggle up to you, their arms wrapping around you, and the three of you talk. Mostly about Austria, and then about he upcoming British Grand Prix in less than a week now, which you're sure you'll be healed up enough for, especially since getting there doesn't require any planes or airports. Sometimes, that can be the worst part of travelling to Grand Prixs far away.

Soon, though, you finish your soup, and sink back down into the pillows, letting the tiredness seize your body once more. As you begin to drift off, the last thing you whisper is, "I love you guys..."

On each side, you feel each of their lips gently kiss your cheeks, but you don't stay awake long enough to hear how they respond to that.

Here you are, with your two McLaren boys.

Sure, there'll be rough spots. Lots of them. Something like this doesn't promise to be easy.

But sometimes, the harder path is the better one in the end.

And right now, in this simple moment, it feels perfectly worth it.

Well, maybe perfectly imperfect.

But would you really want it any other way?

This simple feeling...

[annasfantasies]

Star’s girl III.

/Drew Starkey x fem!reader

part II. masterlist

ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername

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yourusername he burnt the cookies🙄

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drewstarkey no one believe her please. it’s not true

yourusername @/drewstarkey you’re delusional

user he smokes😔

user @/user and he looks good doing so

madelyncline the breakfast looks so good

yourusername @/madelyncline ty I made it

user what if she is writing a song

user @/user please no she Is probably terrible singer

drewstarkey @/user she is actually great singer

user @/drewstarkey we love protective bf

yourbestfriend my favourite couple

yourusername @/yourbestfriend 💕

user he is so gorgeous

yourusername @/user right?!

user idk who I need more

user all 10 fingers

user @/user girl what- (me too)

user @/user whole arm

user do you do weddings? (as bride)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername

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yourusername getting into the xmas spirit

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madisonbailybabe what a cute kitten

yourusername @/madisonbailybabe my kid since Drew won’t give me human one

drewstarkey @/yourusername after wedding

yourusername @/drewstarkey is this proposal?

user @/drewstarkey WHAT

yourbestfriend is it me in the first pic?

yourusername @/yourbestfriend yes mama

drewstarkey not this picture

yourusername @/drewstarkey I love it

user my parents

user he can light my insides

user @/user oh

user why do I have feeling he is gonna propose on Christmas?

user @/user omg I hope so🤞 i love them

yourbestfriend im better then him😏

user I need him

user raw, next question

madelyncline marry me

drewstarkey @/madelyncline no she’s mine

yourusername @/drewstarkey don’t be selfish

user TELL DREW THAT I LOVE HIM

yourusername @/user he is honoured

user @/yourusername OMG HII ILY

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername

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yourusername girls night💋

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yourbestfriend wild in the club and cozy in the apartment

yourusername @/yourbestfriend still can’t believe it

user @/yourusername I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED

drewstarkey 🔥🔥

yourusername @/drewstarkey 🤭🤭

madelyncline we need to go again

yourusername @/madelyncline cant waitt

user @/madelyncline I wanna go too😔😔

user she is so hot I physically can’t take it anymore

user madelyn looks so good

user @/user all of them do

user @/user they are like goddess

madisonbailybabe it girls

yourusername @/madisonbailybabe u’re making me blush🤭

madelyncline @/madisonbailybabe like you😘

drewstarkey my beautiful girl❤️

yourusername @/drewstarkey ure so cute I’m gonna cry

user @/drewstarkey 🥹🥹

user everyone looks so good

user my legs just divorced

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername

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yourusername xmas preparations

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user cutesy

madelyncline you’re so cute and he is he ig

yourusername @/madelyncline so sweet💕

drewstarkey @/madeyncline you’re so mean

user the dog is so cute omg

yourusername @/user my baby🥹

user @/yourusername OH MY GOD YOU REPLIED

drewstarkey you’re my little miracle

yourusername @/drewstarkey 💋❤️

yourbestfriend @/drewstarkey just got a toothache

user MY PARENTS

yourusername @/user hi kid 👋

user I bet they burnt the cookies again

yourusername @/user he did

user I’m not a waitress but I would take his tip

user @/user what-

user @/user yk what? Hell yeah

yourbestfriend you guys are so cute I wanna puke

yourusername @/yourbestfriend love you❤️

user I need him to hold me like that 😔😔

user the matching pjs🥹

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

drewstarkey

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername

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yourusername merry Christmas❤️

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drewstarkey love you now and forever

yourusername @/drewstarkey bitch I’m gonna cry 

user why is no one talking about Drew’s story

user @/user it’s So cute

user HIS ARMS

madelyncline did he give you the kid you wanted?

yourusername @/madelyncline no :(

yourbestfriend @/yourusername I can give you one😏

yourusername @/yourbestfriend come over

drewstarkey @/yourusername yk I can see this

user you’re glowing

madisonbailybabe the gingerbread house looks so good

yourusername @/madisonbailybabe thank you babe

drewstarkey @/madisonbailybabe she didn’t let me touch it

yourusername @/drewstarkey you would ruin it

user @/yourusername HELP BAHAHAJAJA😭😭😭

user @/drewstarkey touch what-

user hope he is under my tree

madelyncline threesome

yourusername @/madelyncline WHAT

user @/madelyncline THEY ARE GETTIMG FREAKY AGAIN

user @/madelyncline I VOLUNTEER AS A TRIBUTE

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

drewstarkey

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drewstarkey my favourite present

View all comments

yourusername come and unwrap me then

drewstarkey @/yourusername 🏃🏃

user @/yourusername WOAH 😨

yourbestfriend MY PARENTS

yourusername @/yourbestfriend OUR CHILD

user idk who I want to be more

user @/user I wanna be sandwiched between them

user she is so lucky

user THE HAND PLACEMENT

madelyncline I’m Grinch and I’m gonna steal her from you🥰

drewstarkey @/madelyncline she is locked in my basement. Good luck getting in there

yourusername @/drewstarkey what

user @/drewstarkey oh

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

ALL CREDITS GO TO THE AUTHORS OF THE PICTURES

A/N: merry Christmas to everyone ❤️

Comments and reblogs are always welcomed. Also you can request something if you want🫶

[cognitiveoverload]

Basic human decency: The pretty doctor – 2/4 (Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader)

summary: In which Jack is the best wingman Hotch can ask for.

masterlist

As you’re wandering the aisles of the store near your home, looking for the next item on your shopping list, you make a quick phone call to check on a patient. It’s your day off, but it was a complicated surgery, and your brain can’t turn off its professional side. You listen to your colleague telling you about the latest lab results, getting so lost in the conversation that you almost hit a little kid with the shopping cart. You raise your hand and say sorry, but when you turn the cart to get past him, he lets out a gasp and points at you.

“Dad, look, the pretty doctor!” he says excitedly.

You pull the phone away from your ear as you give him a questioning look, but the little blond boy is only smiling at you happily. “I’ll call you back, Claire,” you tell your colleague before putting the device away. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” you ask the boy with a kind smile.

He rushes past the cart and stops in front of you. “You’re the pretty doctor who saved my dad.”

“Jack, don’t run away like this, I told you to stay by my side. I’m sorry, I hope he didn’t bother you.”

The man who stopped behind the boy is not unknown to you, mostly because he was the last patient who sent you a thank you gift before being discharged. You’re still being teased about it regularly, but you hoped that stupid giddy feeling you get every time would disappear as the time passed. It didn’t. And you think the fact you kept the card that came with the flowers doesn’t help with that.

It takes your brain a moment to restart, but once it does, you shake your head and flash a smile at him. “Oh, no, he didn’t. But I bet he’s gonna be a little heartbreaker based on how he runs around calling women pretty,” you tell him with a laugh.

“It’s Dad who calls you pretty all the time,” the little boy corrects you with a pout. 

“I most certainly don’t do that,” Hotchner assures you with an awkward smile.

There’s a moment of silence while Jack looks up at his father with a deep frown, but then a mischievous grin appears on his face and he goes, “Sometimes he calls you gorgeous.”

With a panicked look, Hotchner covers the boy’s mouth with his hand and leans down a little. “Buddy, there are things you aren’t supposed to talk about,” he tells him quietly, but even over the terrible music in the store, you can hear every word. “I’m sorry, we should probably just go,” he notes after clearing his throat.

Laughing, you nod and offer your hand for a high-five to Jack, who welcomes it with an excited giggle. But before they could move on, you turn to look at the older man again. “By the way, how are you? Everything healed perfectly?” you ask, desperately clinging to the only topic that can keep them here just a little longer. 

It’s strange, and maybe a little weird, but it’s so good to see him again, and his son is also adorable, and god, you’re pathetic. Why can’t you just move on? Why did you keep that card? Why are you this stupid?

“Yeah, everything’s great, thanks to you,” Hotchner replies with a warm smile. He then hesitates, obviously trying to choose his next words carefully. “I was wondering why you didn’t come see me again. I… thought I crossed a line with those flowers.” There’s something about his tone, like he’s feeling guilty about the whole thing. Strange.

Without hesitation, you flash a bright smile at him and go, “Oh, no, they were beautiful, thank you.”

“That’s not why I mentioned it.”

“I know, it’s just–”

“Dad?” the little boy speaks up, interrupting you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “Can the pretty doctor have lunch with us?” 

“Jack, I’m sure she’s busy.”

The little boy begins to jump up and down from excitement, tiny fingers clutching his jeans to keep his attention on himself. “Please?” he asks.

Hotchner looks at you with a questioning look, shrugging in an attempt to lighten the mood. But there’s a smile on his lips, and a softness in those brown eyes that make you want to say yes. You would be a fool to miss this opportunity. So, why would you refuse? Why wouldn’t you cancel all of your plans with your friends just to spend more time with this little family of two? 

Before answering, you look down at Jack, who watches you with wide eyes. “Are you sure about this?” you ask kindly, to which he responds with an enthusiastic nod. 

You then glance over at his father, looking for that final confirmation that he wants this too, not only because of his son, but because of you. Maybe it’s stupid, but deep down you hope those flowers and smiles back in the hospital actually meant something. Soon enough, he nods and mouths please in an attempt to convince you. 

“Alright, you convinced me,” you reply with a wide smile. 

The boy jumps around as he celebrates, while his father steps closer to you, a hand landing on your waist while he leans so close to you that you can feel his breath on your ear. “Thank you, this makes him really happy. And I’m also really happy, just saying.” When you turn your head to look at him, he’s smiling at you in a way that makes you want to kiss him, but you barely know the guy, it wouldn’t be right. “Oh, and we will have to go on a proper date later. Just you and me, doing adult things.”

“Dad!”

Before you could say anything, he moves away and ruffles his son’s hair. “We’re coming,” he says with a laugh.

Well, that escalated quickly.

[bonefall]

It’s not something I can put into words, but there’s something specifically about Shellfur, the guy who has a “foreign” wife, being the one to have a cheating plotline that icks me out. It feels… almost deliberate in a way I can’t quite put my finger on

I think I understand why you feel that way. I think it's that a lot of cats have suffered and died for the cross-clan law, plus the way the narrative was so dismissive about migration in the last chapters of Star. It's offputting that we would get the first cheating plotline in years with Shellfur and Fernstripe specifically-- right at a time where the narrative is grappling with legitimizing the validity of these relationships.

After ASC had Berryheart radicalize a portion of ShadowClan on this, too. A plotline that was spectacularly fumbled, ending with a heroic death defending her family and not a single word of input from her hate crime victim, Fringewhisker.

It could also be that's there's something terrifying, but interesting in the idea too. Discomfort in the "worth exploring" type of way. What if you moved countries for a lover, only for them to leave you? Or for them to turn out to not be as kind as you expected?

For Fernstripe, that's a horrific situation. One that would be worth delving into (in fact im planning to do something like that with BB!Nightsun, details will come soon btw) with a dedicated POV. One of the unexplored evils of strict migration laws (particularly ones that depend on marriage or family) is that it's really easy to become trapped in a foreign country if the people you're relying on end up being abusive.

But.

A character is a narrative tool-- and the timing here is just terrible. I don't think it's wise to explore that now, not as a follow-up to an arc about bigotry and how it contributes to political radicalization. That's also assuming the writers aren't rat-hearted bastards trying to paint half-Clan relationships as bad things because they hate that they had to alter the status quo even slightly-- which I don't put past them.

Furthermore, from what we've seen, it's treated with all the casuality of an editor's mistake.

You can't just drop that a major supporting character has done something that should be a massive deal without follow-up. Shellfur dumping his mate less than a few months after her migration was plot relevant should cause an uproar in ThunderClan.

To have that unceremoniously done off-screen is just... beyond incompetent. Genuinely frustrating. This is an action/drama series and there's barely any action these days, so what's even left?

I hope this is just a mistake. I hope the writers see the backlash and put out a statement to fix it. I hope they DON'T decide this is a "good idea" and barrel towards it.

But if they do, I hopelessly hope they don't bungle it this time

[themuseofaphrodite]

santa doesn’t know you like i do ✧ MV33

summary: it’s christmas eve, and your boyfriend, max verstappen — a notoriously bad gift giver — still has not told you what presents he had bought you. unbeknownst to you, however, he has found the wishlist you jokingly wrote to santa, and is planning a heartwarming surprise for his beloved.

trigger warnings: suggestive & mature content, swearing

word count: 1.1k

note: phrases and sentences in the dutch language are utilized throughout; keep a translator accessible

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Dear Santa, the letter began, I know that I’m almost twenty-three years old, so writing a letter to you is kind of foolish, but I still believe in the magic of Christmas, even if you aren’t real. This Christmas, I’m not really expecting much. My boyfriend, Max Verstappen, buys me anything I ask for, no matter what time of the year it is. He’s the best partner I could ask for. But the reason why I’m writing this letter is because he is clueless when he has to pick out gifts on his own, without my assistance.

So, before I go off on a tangent talking about how bad his solo gifts have been — do I have to mention the knitted red socks or lavender flavored gumballs? —, these are the things that I’m most looking forward to hopefully seeing under the Christmas tree.

A new set of lipsticks, because mine is really old and running out. I didn’t want to ask Max to buy me one, because I feel bad making him pay for anything.

The new rose gold spade necklace from Chanel. I saw it in a display case at the store in Monaco, and I was itching to purchase it. It’s really beautiful.

And last, but not least, a carton of Ferrero Rocher chocolates, the ones in the golden wrap and the crunchy nuts. My mouth is salivating just from thinking about it.

I know that there’s probably no point to writing this letter since you’re not exactly a living, breathing person, but a part of me hopes that your magic might help figure some of the kinks in Max’s terrible gift-giving skills out.

After writing the letter, you ended up throwing it away in the trash. It was such a waste of time, you thought. What in the world possessed you to do this? You were a busy woman, working for Red Bull as a PR manager. There was never a quiet moment. That was how you and Max had met: you were assigned to aid Liam Lawson in figuring out any media scandals, but as soon as Max had laid eyes on you, he’d immediately ordered Christian Horner to switch you to helping him out.

You were unsure of him, how aggressive and competitive he was. He wouldn’t shy away from direct confrontation, and that terrified you, since the idea of verbally arguing with someone made you nauseous. But so far, eight months into the relationship, you and Max had not had a single fight. He was loving, patient, and kind, willing to hear your side of the story every single time, even if he looked like he was about to flip a table. (This usually happened in PR meetings: you never argued outside of work.)

This would be your first Christmas together, and you were nervous. You knew what to get him: a new Red Bull team shirt and a pair of matching scarves that had colorful cats printed on it. It was purr-fect, and you knew that Max would — hopefully — love it.

Max entered the room, his steps hurried as he typed away on his phone and let out a big huff in frustration. You leaned against the wall, watching him as you sipped your chocolate-flavored boba tea. “Hey, is everything all good, mijn leeuw?” you asked, tacking on the Dutch pet name that fit your boyfriend perfectly. He was a lion, loud and courageous…especially in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought.

Max looked up from his phone, his mouth a little open in confusion. “No, I’m OK, liefde. Just…fucking delivery people, not being on time.” Your eyebrow quirked, and Max shook his head. “And no, for the seventh time, I will not tell you what I’m getting you for Christmas. I know your birthday might’ve been bad, but I promise this time I’ll be good. Ik hou van je, schat.”

“Ik houd ook van jou,” you responded. “But I think I have every right to be concerned.”

Max rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were and placing one arm above your head, effectively locking you in place. “It will be fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, hm?” He grinned, kissing you on the forehead. “And if it does end up wrong, I’ll fuck you really well to make up for it.”

You blushed, averting your gaze away from him. “Max.”

“It’s true.” He released his hand from the wall, moving a dozen inches apart from your face. “Geloof me, lieverd.”

You bit your tongue and didn’t respond.

The next evening, also known as Christmas night, you and Max were preparing to open your presents. Your stomach was like a swarm of butterflies, you were so nervous to see what was in store for you under the tree. Max, however, was the epitome of ice-cold, his face betraying no hint as to what he may have purchased.

“Your turn first, engel.” Max motioned for you to select your first gift, and with shaky hands, you began to unpeel the small, square-shaped package. Finally unveiling it, you realized what it was: the rose gold spade Chanel necklace you’d been wanting for so long.

“Max! Oh my God, jij bent de beste!” you cried out, hugging him tightly and making him crack up in laughter. “How did you know?” you asked as you pulled away, but Max shrugged his shoulders.

“I just know things, liefde.” It was now Max’s turn to select his first gift, and he chose the nondescript package that held the colorful cat scarves in them. You suppressed a smile, watching as he carefully cut through the gift wrapping and sifted through the gift paper. His face broke out in a large smile, his blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “Cat scarves? This is adorable!”

“I hoped you would like it,” you said, beaming back at him. You shifted your position to pick up another gift; this time, it was heavy and rectangular. An inkling of suspicion wormed its way through you as you met Max’s gaze. “If this is what I think this is… Thank you.”

It was, in fact, a new set of lipsticks, just like you had written in your letter to Santa Claus. Somehow, Max must have found the letter and bought everything that you’d put on the list.

“You deserve it,” Max responded, pulling you close to him after you both had finished unwrapping the presents. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I owe you the world.”

You kissed his temple. “You’re the most incredible partner I could ever have.”

“Merry Christmas, hart van mij.”

Needless to say, you paid Max back for the thoughtful presents all night long. It was a Christmas you’d never forget, and you sent up a silent thanks to the magic of Santa Claus for having it all work out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Christmas Snippet 2024

Merry Christmas everyone! Here's a present for you!

Villain was just about to open their next present when the doorbell rang. The chatter and laughter from the team died down. Who could that possibly be?

“Maybe it’s Christmas carolers?” Sidekick asked.

“At our base?” Supervillain asked, “unlikely.”

The doorbell rang again, followed by weak yet persistent knocking.

“I’ll get it,” Villain said, setting their parcel down.

They headed to the foyer and opened the front door. They stood frozen in shock for a few minutes.

“Well, Villain? Who is it?” Henchman called.

Villain took a minute to find the words. In front of them stood their very own nemesis, Hero, shaking in their hero suit and staring up at them with big, sad eyes.

“I um… I didn’t know where else to go,” Hero said quietly.

Villain blinked. They had never seen Hero like this before, all pathetic and so terribly small. And injured, they noted, as bloody patches on their suit grew wider and redder.

“Villain, come on,” Supervillain put a hand on their shoulder, “who is- oh!”

“S-sorry,” Hero chattered, “I can leave, I didn’t know you were having a party.”

Hero choked on a sob at that last part, as though the very idea of parties was traumatic to them.

“Come inside,” Supervillain said.

Villain opened the door wider for them, holding an arm out should Hero need steadying. It turned out that they did; they were just over the threshold when they collapsed into Villain.

Villain half-carried Hero inside, setting them down in their armchair that they had been sitting in just minutes before.

“I-I’m staining your furniture-” Hero protested.

“Meh, it adds to our aesthetic,” Sidekick said dismissively.

Henchman draped Hero in a blanket and handed them a mug of hot cocoa.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Villain asked gently.

Hero shook their head, tears forming in their eyes.

“It just, it hasn’t been a very good Christmas,” they said quietly.

They did start sobbing at that, their tears making little ripples in their drink. Supervillain took the mug and set it on the side table. After a while, Hero sniffled.

“Can you tell us who did this to you?” Henchman asked.

Hero wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze. Hesitantly, they nodded.

“My team,” they said.

The criminals exchanged quick, bewildered glances with each other.

“Your team?” Supervillain asked, “why would they-”

“Said I was making us look bad. Everyone else has impressive powers and then there’s me who’s only good for ‘whipping up homemade popsicles.’”

Villain’s hands curled into fists, but they tried to contain their anger for Hero’s sake.

“They d-did all this,” Hero gestured to their wounds, “then said not to come back.”

Hero put their head in their hands and started crying once more. Sidekick put a hand on their shoulder in an attempt to comfort them.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with their Christmas presents now,” Hero said.

“They don’t deserve-” Henchman started to growl.

Supervillain held a hand up.

“Well, you know, Christmas isn’t over yet,” they said, “would you like to celebrate with us?”

Hero looked up.

“We can have a room made up for you just how you like it,” Supervillain offered, “you won’t be alone, and you can stay indefinitely, or for however long as you feel comfortable.”

“But I’m not a-” Hero started, “I can’t do what you all- I’m not a villain.”

“So what?” Villain said, “we could all use a moral compass, you’d be our live-in hero!”

“You don’t have to answer right now,” Supervillain said, “how about we get you patched up and go from there?”

Hero looked taken aback, as though kindness from others had eluded them all their life.

“Yes please,” they said.

…

It was well into the evening when Hero started showing off their favorite party trick- making it snow indoors. Sidekick tried to catch snowflakes on their tongue while Henchman brought in a tray of cookies. Supervillain added a few flames to the fire with their powers.

“Where did Villain go? They’re missing the snow!” Sidekick said.

“Right here!” Villain answered, coming inside with a present.

They set it down on Hero’s lap. Hero blinked, then looked up at them with wide eyes.

“You didn’t have to do this!” they said.

“Oh I think I did,” Villain smiled.

Hero tore at the wrapping paper and opened the box underneath. They stared slack-jawed at the gift inside. A fleece, weighted blanket with snowflakes scattered across the fabric.

“I hope it’s okay I kinda ran with the superpower theme,” Villain said nervously, “but I know you get cold faster than anyone, and the weight helps with anxiety and- oh!”

Hero had jumped up and hugged Villain as tightly as their stitches would allow. Villain hugged them back.

“I love it, thank you,” Hero said, squeezing tighter.

“Yep,” Villain choked out, “can’t breathe.”

Hero finally released them, beaming widely.

“Hey, look!” Sidekick pointed to the ceiling.

The pair looked up at the mistletoe dangling over them.

“Oh, Villain, you don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

Hero was cut off by Villain’s lips pressing gently against theirs. Hero had never felt this close to melting before.

Henchman and Supervillain cooed, clapping soflty. Sidekick stuck their tongue out, regretting that they had pointed the plant out.

“Merry Christmas, Hero,” Villain said.

Hero smiled, the sparkle back in their eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Villain.”

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[onehundredelevven]

You received a Christmas Fic I !

Pre-Christmas with Sukuna.

word count: 1,010

cw: Just Sukuna being Sukuna, cringe ig, but sweet and fun nonetheless

note: this is kinda rushed, but I hope y'all like it !

December was in full swing, and your apartment was a whirlwind of holiday chaos. Boxes of decorations were scattered across the floor, half-empty rolls of wrapping paper had taken over the couch, and you were wearing an oversized sweater with a cartoonish reindeer on the front.

Sukuna, meanwhile, sat at the dining table, looking like he wanted to murder the nearest inflatable snowman.

“What exactly are you doing?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as you balanced precariously on a stool to hang a string of lights.

“What does it look like?” you replied, sticking your tongue out in concentration as you secured the lights. “I’m spreading holiday cheer, duh.”

“You mean you’re spreading a disaster,” he muttered, taking a sip from his coffee.

You turned to glare at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Grinch. Didn’t realize you were allergic to fun.”

“I’m not allergic to fun,” he said, leaning back in his chair with that trademark smirk. “I just don’t see the point of all this… nonsense.” He gestured vaguely at the mess you’d made of the apartment.

“Nonsense?” You gasped dramatically, clutching your chest like he’d just insulted your entire family lineage. “How dare you disrespect the sacred art of Christmas decorating!”

“It’s not sacred. It’s tacky,” he shot back, though his eyes lingered on the string of multicolored lights you’d managed to drape across the room.

“Oh, come on, Sukuna,” you said, hopping off the stool and plopping down beside him. “Don’t you feel the Christmas spirit? The magic? The joy?”

“I feel like I’m stuck in a Hallmark movie,” he deadpanned.

You gasped again. “You take that back!”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your theatrics. “What are you going to do? Throw tinsel at me?”

“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered, grabbing a nearby strand of tinsel threateningly.

Sukuna rolled his eyes, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth—almost like he was trying not to smile.

☆☆☆

It didn’t take long for your chaotic energy to rope him into the madness.

“Here, hold this,” you said, shoving a box of ornaments into his arms.

“No,” he said flatly, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“Yes,” you insisted, grabbing his wrist and dragging him over to the tree. “You’re helping whether you like it or not.”

“Why would I waste my time hanging plastic baubles on a dying plant?”

“Because you love me,” you said sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

He snorted. “Debatable.”

“Wow.” You pouted, crossing your arms. “Fine. Be a Grinch. I’ll just do it all myself.”

You turned away dramatically, but before you could pick up an ornament, Sukuna grabbed your wrist.

“Give me that,” he said gruffly, taking the ornament from your hand.

You grinned triumphantly as he begrudgingly hung it on the tree.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” you said, nudging him with your elbow.

“Don’t push it,” he warned, though he didn’t pull away when you leaned against him.

☆☆☆

By the time you finished decorating, the living room looked like Christmas had exploded. The tree was covered in lights, ornaments, and a questionable amount of fake snow. You’d even managed to hang a wreath on the front door, though Sukuna had grumbled the entire time about how “pointless” it was.

“You know,” you said, collapsing onto the couch with a satisfied sigh, “I think this might be my best work yet.”

Sukuna stood with his arms crossed, surveying the room like a disgruntled art critic.

“It’s… less terrible than I expected,” he admitted reluctantly.

You gasped. “Was that a compliment? From the great Ryomen Sukuna himself?”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, sitting down beside you.

☆☆☆

The evening took a quieter turn as you both settled in with mugs of hot chocolate (well, you had hot chocolate; Sukuna had spiked his with something stronger). The lights on the tree cast a warm glow over the room, and for once, Sukuna wasn’t scowling.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” you asked, nudging him with your shoulder.

“It’s tolerable,” he said, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

“You’re such a softie,” you teased, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Watch it,” he warned, though he didn’t push you away.

For a moment, the chaos of the day melted away, leaving only the quiet hum of holiday music and the gentle crackle of a candle burning on the coffee table.

“Hey,” you said suddenly, sitting up and looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“What now?” he asked, already bracing himself for whatever ridiculous idea you’d come up with next.

You held up a sprig of mistletoe, grinning like a child who’d just pulled off a prank.

“Really?” he said, giving you a flat look.

“It’s tradition,” you said innocently, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

Sukuna sighed, setting his mug down on the table. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered before leaning in to kiss you.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, a rare moment of tenderness from someone as rough around the edges as Sukuna. When he pulled away, his usual smirk was back in place.

“Merry pre-Christmas, brat,” he said, ruffling your hair.

“Merry pre-Christmas, Grinch,” you replied, snuggling back into his side.

And for once, Sukuna didn’t complain.

[oddyseye]

Things I did NOT like in the Ithaca Saga.

Okay, it was fine, but there were just...choices... There’s just stuff in that section that had me rolling my eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck.

First up: "Hold Them Down." I get that Epic is trying to make the suitors worse villains, but the way they went about it was disgusting. That song outright says the suitors were planning to force themselves on Penelope, which is not even remotely in the Odyssey. Yes, the suitors are terrible — they’re greedy, arrogant, would-be killers who exploit her hospitality — but this crosses a line that feels like shock value rather than staying true to the source material. They included that song, but erased Calypso’s actions toward Odysseus? In the Odyssey, she held him captive for years and forced him into a relationship. That is literally such an important part of the story. Yet, not only did Epic omit it, but they also banned people from even discussing it in their Discord server. How does that make sense? You can explore one kind of assault but not acknowledge the other, especially when the one they ignored was actually canon? The double standard is infuriating, and it completely undermines the narrative’s integrity. Yet somehow this suitor nonsense made the cut? Make it make sense, because I can’t. Next, Telemachus. Why did they do my boy so dirty? In the Odyssey, he was brave, capable, and growing into his own. He fought beside Odysseus, killed suitors, and even comes this close to stringing Odysseus’ old bow, which is supposed to be impossible for anyone but...well. Odysseus. That’s a huge moment! It shows how much he’s grown and how much of Odysseus’ strength and legacy he carries within him. But in Epic? They turned him into some weak, helpless little thing who can’t do anything without Odysseus. Like, hello? Telemachus isn’t just Odysseus’ son; he’s a fighter, a prince, and a man trying to defend his home. Stripping that away to make Odysseus look like more of a hero is just lazy and disrespectful to the original story. They took away his courage, his growth, and his ability to hold his own. It’s like they didn’t trust the audience to see Odysseus as a hero unless Telemachus was made to look useless by comparison. And then we get to Odysseus and Athena. What even was that? Yes, the idea that Odysseus has become a “monster” is a fascinating angle—he’s been through so much that revenge, violence, and survival have completely overtaken who he once was. But Ithaca does nothing to earn this shift, and it outright ignores the groundwork laid in earlier sagas. Two sagas ago, we saw Odysseus at his lowest. He was stranded on Calypso’s island, completely defeated, and begging Athena for help. Let me say that again: begging. And this wasn’t just any goddess he was calling out to — this was the mentor who had abandoned him as a student. She had walked away, and he still reached out, still trusted her to save him when no one else could. That moment showed Odysseus’ faith in Athena and their deep, complicated bond. Calypso.

And Athena? She didn’t just listen—she fought for him. She went up against Zeus himself to make sure Odysseus could leave that island. She defied the king of the gods because she believed in him. Odysseus doesn’t know that detail, but we do, and it makes her devotion to him so much more impactful. She risked everything to give him another chance at life, at home, at redemption.

Fast-forward to Ithaca, and what do we get? Athena shows up, vulnerable and introspective, questioning the path they’ve taken and the world they’ve built, and Odysseus just brushes her off. He doesn’t just say no — he dismisses her entirely. His response boils down to, “Not my problem. I’ve got a wife to see.” Excuse me, now? This is the same man who was crying out for her intervention just two sagas ago. The same man whose survival has always depended on his intelligence, resourcefulness, and the help of others — Athena most of all. Now he’s too proud to even engage with her? It doesn’t track. It’s inconsistent, and it cheapens their relationship. She’s opening her heart, showing her vulnerability, wondering if there’s still a way for them to fix what they’ve broken. She didn’t owe him anything, but she did it because she believed in him, because she had invested in him from the start. So for him to now completely disregard her — when she’s in front of him, showing empathy and pain — feels like a betrayal of everything that came before. Odysseus’ monster arc didn’t need to erase Athena. In fact, rejecting the one person who literally raised him, who fought for him, who saved him so many times, doesn’t even make sense for his character. That’s not the arc of a man who’s become a monster; that’s just cruelty for cruelty’s sake.

This is someone who has given everything to Odysseus, and in this moment, she’s realizing that the person she fought for is no longer the man she thought he was. And that’s what’s tragic.

But Ithaca doesn’t explore that. Instead, it uses Odysseus’ rejection as a cheap plot point, stripping away the emotional weight of his relationship with Athena. She was the woman who raised him, who guided him, who saved him — and they reduced her to a mere plot device to show how “monster-ified” Odysseus has become. It’s lazy, it’s cruel, and it completely disregards the depth of their bond. The pain in Athena’s voice, the heartbreak in her words, is completely wasted.

Odysseus doesn’t need to be a monster who rejects Athena to be a tragic figure. The tragedy would have been in him choosing revenge and violence at the cost of his humanity, not in cutting ties with the one person who raised him into the hero he became. Ithaca could’ve explored that, but instead, it gave us a shallow, hollow portrayal that didn’t respect the characters, their history, or the emotional weight of their relationship. Ithaca is a hot mess, and it’s honestly embarrassing. It had all this potential, and yet it chose to phone it in with lazy writing and shallow plot twists. It throws out big ideas and then does nothing with them, leaving us with empty, unearned moments that just fall flat. Instead of digging into anything meaningful, it relies on cheap drama to get a reaction. The story feels rushed, disconnected from the other sagas, and like the creators couldn’t be bothered to put in the work. They had an opportunity to make something impactful and then just decided to half-ass it. If you're looking for a mess of missed potential, Ithaca is your go-to. That being said, the songs are sick and I will sob again over the last song. Thank you.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Shooing skills

A/N: This was random! Hope you enjoy reading it :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: Jealous Tony = Hot Tony.

.

“I don’t know how you do it!”

“Huh? Do what?”

Tuning back into the conversation you were already done with, you tapped your shiny rock that sat on your ring finger against the glass of champagne you held, hoping the person opposite you would get the hint and leave you alone.

Apparently not.

Either he was too dumb to catch on or chose to ignore it completely and continue with his brazen flirting. The guy —whose name you hadn’t bothered to remember had cornered you, leaving you no room to escape, and you felt obliged to speak to him considering the donation he’d pledged.

“You’re literally an Avenger, and you’ve organised this event, plus I heard from someone that you paint too?” He went on, leaning closer in a way that bothered you.

“Umm. Yeah. Just a little..” You shrugged, eyes skimming across the room, looking for your man who was nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve got it all, Y/N. You’re truly an amazing woman.”

“Well, thanks. You’re kind.” You chuckled awkwardly, rubbing your bare shoulder which the man took as an opportunity to let his obviously lust-filled gaze roam all over your body.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you. Say you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

“Erm—”

“She is. Rather she was seeing me, for a year. Then I gave her that stunning rock which you haven’t noticed, and then she married me exactly thirteen months ago.”

Relief spread through your chest as a smile made its way to your lips, a firm tug pulled you closer against Tony Stark, your terribly handsome husband. The glare that guy was subjected to was much deserved as you watched him straighten up and clear his throat awkwardly.

“Oh! Tony, I—I mean Mr. Stark I had no idea—”

Tony dismissed him with a wave of his hand, using the other to bring your left hand up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“Don’t go bothering people’s wives now.” He called out, rolling his eyes as the fully grown adult of a businessman stumbled into a waiter before disappearing into the crowd.

“Nice shooing skills.” You straightening the bowtie he wore, smiling as Tony continued to eye the man who’d just hit on you.

“Thanks.”

“Though you made a mistake, dear husband.” You murmured, turning to him as he held onto your waist possessively.

“What?” For a flash second, Tony tensed up, unsure where you were going with this.

“You married me fourteen months ago.”

Exhaling in relief, he gave you a winning grin, leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

“Baby, in my head we were married the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Such a liar.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Finishing your drink, you shook your head before Tony pulled you closer, clearly feigning hurt at your reaction.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Tony, I literally had to drop so many hints before you finally mustered up the courage to finally ask me out.”

It was true. It took him months to admit to his growing feelings towards you before he finally knocked on your door one day to ask you for dinner. “The team is out for the night and I was wondering if you were the sort of person who eats dinner?” Were his exact words as you recalled. It was cute and rather hilarious watching Iron Man all flustered.

“Hey! I can’t be a genius when it comes to all things. Give me break! Besides, you agreed to marry me. Not Mr. Random Romeo over there. Me.”

Giggling, you pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, watching his eyes narrowing as he spotted that man wandering along the halls again.

“Yes, I did. My hero.”

It was kinda hot watching your husband get all jealous, not something you’d see often considering most people were well aware of the fact that you were Tony’s girl.

“Why do you attract these schmucks?” Tony wondered out loud, grabbing your hand as you made your way through the crowd. It would be a long night and messing with your husband never seemed like a better idea.

“Mm. Believe me, I keep asking myself the same question some days.”