#actually the one time im thinking of if im remembering right it might have been pre-crisis which i think would make this a little funnier

[robingivesmemagic]

[ pls dont tag as ship ]

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[adhdvane]

im dying he r fkcuking face

[eclarinet]

same soup... different day

[todayisafridaynight]

at this point i just dont know how dreaming works

[indigo6f00ff]

funny update a couple of months later for People Who Want to Know: i dont have the car that got me into this Incredibly Minor Accident anymore. while after the accident, i did have to get the brakes serviced (wow, they were faulty, who knew!), it proceeded to have Several More Issues, such as: the transmission being fucked up and Trouble With Turns. i still drove it regardless because i needed that shit to get to college but eventually the radiator fan stopped working on it (where it would start overheating if the car wasn't moving (if the car was moving then air could still blow over the engine, cooling it down)) and My Mother deemed it too dangerous to drive. RIP to the shitty 2012 jeep liberty hand-me-down with 200k miles that led to the creation of the Kim Moment(TM).

need to share an experience i had 30 minutes ago

(edit: thanks to @walks-the-ages for providing and reminding me to put alt text, sorry it slips my mind alot lol)

[orcelito]

Man I really hadn't gotten as far in the manga as I thought. I just finished ep 267 of shippuden and it's gearing up for the Gaara vs his dad fight, which I remember being where I dropped off in the manga. Bc I'd been keeping up with new chapters for a while, but with all the war talk... idk it just didn't capture 14 year old me that much. So I stopped keeping up.

Now, though. I find all the war tactics interesting hfkshdk it has me wanting to play a fire emblem game again. Hmmmmmm

[be-good-to-bugs]

when i feel very lonely i get fizzled out of doing anything after less than an hour

[pucksandpower]

I’m Gonna Wife You Up

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: in which your best friend wins his first World Drivers’ Championship, proposes through text, and confesses his feelings for you … in that order

It’s just after 2 am when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You groan and roll over, squinting at the bright screen. A new text from Max. You can’t help but smile as you open it.

Ik im drunk but listen

Im gonna wife you up one day

Thats all

Good night

You laugh out loud at the drunken confession, shaking your head fondly. Leave it to Max to make even his most romantic statements sound completely ridiculous.

The two of you have been inseparable since you were kids racing in karts together. As his career skyrocketed into Formula 1 and global fame, you were always there by his side as his best friend and perpetual voice of reason.

Well, most of the time anyway.

As you type out a teasing response, another text comes through.

Wait no

Im coming over

You barely have time to process it before your phone starts ringing, Max’s goofy grinning face flashing on the screen. You accept the FaceTime call and he immediately starts rambling.

“Y/N! Y/N listen. I just won the fucking World Championship! Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can actually,” you chuckle. “I was there, remember? Sitting right in the garage.”

“Of course you were! You’re always there,” he slurs, words running together. “My biggest supporter. My good luck charm.”

“I think you might be overestimating my involvement a tad there, buddy.”

He shakes his head adamantly. “No way. I couldn’t do any of this without you, y’know? All those years of you kicking my ass in the karts, pushing me to be better ...”

You scoff. “Oh please, you were always the better driver. I just got a head start.”

“That has nothing to do with it! You’re just crazy talented. Why d’you think I’ve kept you around all these years?”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. Drunken banter with Max is one of your favorite pastimes.

Suddenly, there’s a loud banging on your door. You jump, staring at it in confusion.

“Y/N? Y/N you home?” Max’s muffled voice calls from the other side.

You glance back at your phone to see he’s now wandering down the hallway, FaceTiming you from outside your hotel room. Of course the idiot wouldn’t think to simply text you a heads up.

“Max! I’ll be right there, just stay put for once in your life.”

You hurry to the door and swing it open. There he is, leaning against the wall in a rumpled dress shirt and loosened tie, phone raised as he grins at you proudly. You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your own face at the sight of your best friend, for once totally carefree after years of endless pressure and scrutiny.

“Hey champ,” you tease, stepping aside so he can stumble into your living room. “Need me to give you a hand there?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He waves you off, somehow managing to trip over his own feet and crash onto your couch. You wince as he lets out a groan.

“Yeah, you seem totally fine.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles petulantly, making you laugh.

You move to stand over him, arms crossed as you drink in the sight. His dress shirt is untucked and half unbuttoned, tie completely askew. His carefully styled hair is now a tousled mess, a few stray strands falling over his bright eyes. Despite his drunken state, an almost giddy smile plays at his lips.

“What?” He asks, catching your fond gaze.

You shake your head. “Nothing, I’m just … I’m really proud of you, Max.”

His grin widens and he grabs your hand, tugging you down to sit beside him on the couch. “I did it, didn’t I? I actually fucking did it!”

“You did.” You squeeze his hand, hardly believing it yourself. “World Champion at just 24 years old. You deserve this so much.”

He sobers a bit, blue eyes shining intensely as he holds your gaze. “I couldn’t have done it without you though. You’ve been there every step of the way. Through all the good times and the bad ...”

You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off.

“No, shhh. Let me say this.” He takes a deep breath, seeming to struggle to find the right words. “You … you always believed in me. No matter what. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, even when everyone was writing me off and calling me arrogant or reckless … you were always there to pick me up and set me straight.”

His gaze drops briefly before locking with yours again. “You don’t know what that means to me, Y/N. To have someone like that, someone who’s always got your back no matter what. Who calls you on your bullshit but also hypes you up more than anyone. I honestly don’t know if I’d be here without you.”

Your throat feels tight as you blink back unexpected tears. You’ve never seen Max be this open and vulnerable before. You reach up impulsively to brush that stray lock of hair from his forehead, making him catch his breath.

In a burst of uncharacteristic boldness, you decide to be just as honest with him. “Max … you have to know how I feel about you after all these years. How much you mean to me.”

He swallows hard, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “Then show me.”

You search his gaze, trying to gauge if this is really what he wants, if he’ll regret this in the morning when he’s sober. But beneath the alcohol-induced haze, you see only sincerity and a longing you’ve secretly shared for so long.

So you lean in slowly, cupping his stubbly jaw in your palm as your lips finally meet his in a kiss you’ve dreamed about for years. It starts soft and tentative, exploring each other in this new territory. But it doesn’t take long for the heat to rise between you, years of built up tension boiling over.

His hands come up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he angles his head for deeper access. You let out a soft whimper against his lips, reveling in the feeling of finally having Max like this, all yours. He inhales sharply at the sound, like he can’t quite believe this is real either.

You pour everything into that kiss — your friendship, your inside jokes, and countless shared memories. All the pride and protectiveness, the unspoken words you’ve held back for so long.

And Max gives it all right back to you tenfold, kissing you with an undeniable hunger and passion reflective of the fierce determination that’s shaped him into a World Champion.

When you finally have to break apart for air, you’re both panting softly, chests heaving. Max rests his forehead against yours, eyes shining with an unmistakable tenderness.

“I meant what I said, y’know?” His voice is low and gravelly. “I really am gonna wife you up one day.”

You let out a watery chuckle, feeling deliriously happy and overwhelmed all at once. Only Max could make a drunken proclamation like that somehow sound so sweet and natural.

“Is that a promise?” You murmur against his lips.

He captures them in another searing kiss, sending tingles down your spine.

“It’s a goddamn certainty, schatje.”

Max wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to explore your mouth hungrily. A low groan rumbles in his chest as your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer.

“Max ...” you breathe out between heated kisses. “We should … move this … to the bedroom.”

He answers by nipping at your bottom lip teasingly before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline.

“Bed … good idea ...” he mumbles against the sensitive skin just below your ear, making you shiver.

Before you can protest further, Max is clumsily maneuvering to straddle your lap on the couch, never breaking the fevered kiss. You can’t help but giggle at his drunken lack of coordination as he nearly topples the both of you to the floor.

“Smooth moves there, champ,” you quip breathlessly.

He leans back with a devilish smirk, blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “You know me, schatje. I’m a regular Casanova.”

You snort at that. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

His grin widening, Max suddenly lurches forward to blow a raspberry right on your neck, making you squeal with laughter.

“Max! You’re too drunk for this, you idiot.”

“Never too drunk for you,” he husks in that low, rumbly tone that sends tingles down your spine.

Before you can formulate a response, his nimble fingers are stumbling through undoing the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric aside to bare his toned chest to your roaming gaze. You can’t resist reaching out to run your palms over the skin, relishing in the firm muscle and light sprinkling of hair.

Max’s eyes slip closed, head falling back slightly as he savors your touch. “That’s it … been waiting for your hands on me for years.”

You swallow hard, suddenly very aware of how real this is, how you’re both finally crossing that line after harboring secret feelings for one another for so long. Before you can overthink it, Max is tugging insistently at the hem of your t-shirt.

Meeting his heated gaze, you raise your arms obediently to allow him to undress you. His hooded eyes darken further as more of your skin is slowly revealed to him, lingering reverently on your body in a way that makes your cheeks flush. You’ve never felt so wanted, so desired.

Once your shirt is tossed carelessly aside, Max leans in to capture your lips in another smoldering kiss, hands roaming across the newly exposed skin of your lower back and sides. You sigh into his mouth, arching shamelessly into his touch like you’ve been craving for ages.

In one fluid motion, Max hooks his arms beneath your thighs and stands from the couch, your legs instinctively winding around his waist as he hauls you up against his chest. You can’t help the startled laugh that escapes you, breaking the kiss.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed, of course,” he rumbles, already stumbling in the direction of your bedroom. “Can’t very well have my way with you on that tiny couch, can I?”

You shake your head at his forwardness, kissing along the sharp line of his jaw. “Is that so? And just what did you have in mind for this bed of mine, Mr. Verstappen?”

He shivers at your teasing tone, finally reaching the edge of your mattress and unceremoniously tumbling you both down onto the plush comforter. You let out a rather undignified squeak as Max lands half on top of you, quickly rolling to pin you beneath him.

Any snarky remarks you may have prepared immediately die on your lips when you take in his appearance — shirtless and slightly disheveled, those incredible eyes dark with undisguised want, pink lips parted enticingly. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

“You really wanna know what I have in mind?” Max’s voice is low and husky, making something deep within you tighten with anticipation. He leans down to trail scorching kisses along the sensitive column of your throat. “I’m gonna take my time exploring every single inch of you, liefje. Mapping out all those gorgeous curves of yours ...”

He punctuates the words by rolling his hips firmly against yours, allowing you to feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your core. You can’t stop the whimpery moan that falls from your lips at the delicious friction.

Max grins wickedly against your neck. “That’s it, make more of those pretty sounds for me ...”

You tangle your fingers in his tousled hair to tug his mouth back to yours, unable to resist tasting him again. The kiss quickly turns heated and desperate, all tongue and teeth, both of you pouring out years of built up longing. Your hands roam feverishly across the broad expanse of Max’s back, committing every ridge and plane of muscle to memory.

Growing impatient, you begin tugging impatiently at Max’s belt buckle and zipper, making him break away with a breathy chuckle.

“Fuck, you’re eager tonight, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” you shoot back cheekily, finally popping open the button and shoving his jeans down over his narrow hips. “Pretty sure you proposed to me, like, thirty seconds after our first kiss.”

He sobers somewhat at that, eyes shining with sincerity as he holds your gaze. “I meant that. I really do want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your heart flutters wildly in your chest at his words, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. “Max ...”

He cuts you off by capturing your lips in another bruising kiss, effectively robbing you of coherent thought. When he rocks his hips again, you realize with a start that the last shred of his clothing has disappeared at some point during your heated exchange.

You break away with a shaky gasp, drinking in the sight of his fully naked form above you. Despite having seen him undressed countless times in a purely platonic context — in his driver’s rooms before races, passing showers when staying over at his apartment, that one incredibly awkward encounter in the Red Bull cold tub after the Singapore Grand Prix earlier this year — you’ve never truly taken the time to appreciate Max like this, to openly admire his body and all its lean lines and toned muscle definition.

“See something you like?” His teasing lilt snaps you out of your dazed reverie.

Cheeks flushing hotly, you lick your lips unconsciously before nodding slowly. “Very much so.”

His gravelly chuckle makes something low in your belly stir. “Then let’s get you out of these.”

Max tugs at the waistband of your leggings, helping to shimmy them down your legs and tossing them carelessly aside. You instinctively move to cover yourself with your arms, suddenly feeling very exposed. But Max just shakes his head slowly, emerald eyes raking over your body with naked reverence.

“Don’t,” he murmurs huskily, gently pulling your arms away. “You’re fucking stunning, every last inch of you.”

His worshipful tone makes you feel beautiful and powerful in a way you never have before. You keep your eyes locked on his, feeling utterly weightless as Max leans down to trail hot, open mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. He takes his time exploring and tasting every inch of newly uncovered skin, relishing in the breathy whimpers and moans he draws from you freely.

But as his mouth moves lower, lavishing attention on the soft curves of your belly and hips, you begin to notice a subtle change. His movements are growing slower, more sluggish, those previously sharp nips and licks turning sloppier.

And when you tangle your fingers in his tousled hair to provide some gentle guidance, Max lets out a long, low grumble of contentment … followed swiftly by a rumbling snore.

You blink down at him in surprise, hardly able to believe it. This absolute idiot, this drunken oaf of a World Champion … has fallen straight to sleep on top of you, fully nude and still nestled between your parted thighs.

A burst of laughter bubbles up from your chest, loud and borderline hysterical. You shake your head slowly at the ridiculousness of it all, hardly caring that the moment has been completely ruined.

Because somehow, of course this would happen to you. Only Max could seduce you to within an inch of your life before passing out entirely mid-foreplay.

Typical.

Still, you can’t quite smother your fond smile as you gaze down at his slack, boyishly handsome features, completely relaxed in peaceful slumber. Even sloshed and wasted, he looks almost unbearably sweet like this — finally free of the perpetual weight of stress and pressure he usually carries on those strong shoulders.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur affectionately, smoothing back the tousled chestnut strands from his forehead. “Only you could make me go this disgustingly gooey, even when you’re being a drunken mess.”

With a rueful shake of your head, you began the arduous task of gently maneuvering Max to roll off of you and onto his back beside you on the bed. He lets out a disgruntled grumble at the movement, snuffling adorably into the pillows as you tug the comforter up over his naked form.

Once he seems as settled and comfortable as he’s likely to get, you study his slumbering features for another lingering moment. God, he really is beautiful, inside and out. And he’s all yours now, in a way you’ve only dreamed of for years.

Smiling to yourself, you scoot closer until you’re nestled against his side, head pillowed on his muscular chest. You revel in the feeling of Max’s strong arms instinctively wrapping around you, holding you close even in sleep.

With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift closed, safe in the knowledge that you’ll be able to wake up like this tomorrow — and hopefully every day after that for the rest of your lives.

Just before slipping into peaceful dreams yourself, you can’t resist pressing one last featherlight kiss to the hollow of Max’s throat.

“I love you, my World Champion,” you whisper against his skin.

Max just smiles that brilliant sunny grin in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him. And really, that’s all the answer you’ll ever need.

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 2

characters: fem!reader x muichiro, sanemi, mitsuri, obanai

AN: this is a pt 2 for the request from @danielle-marie

READ THE FIRST PART HERE

MUICHIRO

I LOVE THIS BABY SM U DONT UNDERSTAND

he's the hashira that ur most comfortable around

he was a hashira before u

but u get promoted and its an instinct

child.

must protect.

at first he probably gets annoyed by you

he's not used to someone caring for him the way that u do

but then one day ur sent on a long mission

maybe a few weeks long

and he finds himself missing something

of course he has no idea what it is that he's missing something

he completely forgot about u

but when you get back to the butterfly estate and he sees u

it clicks

he remembers

he missed you

he missed your overprotective nature

he missed your soft caring voice

he missed the way that you brush and style his hair

he REALLY missed that ^

walks up to u, grabs ur hand and tugs u away

doesn't care if you were talking to someone

and doesn't say a word

brings you to his favorite cloud watching spot with a tight grip on your hand

makes you sit down

and lays his head in ur lap

stop im squealing and kicking my feet from the cuteness

SANEMI

my guyyyyyy

have i ever told yall that i love him?

only in every single thing i post

anyways

he HATES you at first

lmfao rip u

your shy and quiet nature reminds him of giyuu

and if theres one person sanemi can't stand

its giyuu

therefore he don't fw u

and doesn't pay u much attention

UNTILLLLL

he witnesses u pulling genya by the ear to the infirmary after a mission

and telling genya tf off for pulling som stupid shit during the mission

+100 respect right there

not only are u actually talking

but ur screaming??

at his brother??

and taking care of him at the same time?????

my guy is lucky if he doesn't pop a boner right there lmfaooo

starts paying more attention to u after that

and is noticeably a lot nicer and calmer around you

will blush beet red and deny tf out of it if the other hashira comment abt his change of heart

but def develops a soft spot for u

MITSURI

SWEETEST HUMAN BEING TO EVER EXIST EVER

she loves u

ofc she does she's the love hashira

but in mitsuri's mind how could she not absolutely ADORE u

not only are you breathtakingly beautiful in her eyes

but she sees the way u interact with the younger slayers

how u genuinely care for everyone's wellbeing

if she wasn't looking for a husband she would wife u tf UP

she still might lol

mitsuri is gonna go out of her way to become friends with you

she's inviting u to her estate for girl's night with shinobu

she's dragging u along to her favorite restaurant for lunch

she's inviting u to join her at the hot springs to relax

she really enjoys ur presence

even if ur shy she thinks ur very soothing to be around

she loves when you do her hair!!

and when u cook for her??

mitsuri alrdy eats a lot

but if u made the food for her??

girl is not letting a CRUMB go to waste

loves the way u take care of everyone

especially when u take care of her

10/10 would recommend a mitsuri

OBANAI

someone pls love this man

he needs it so bad

so dude had SHIT parents

like bad bad

so when he sees ur interactions with the younger slayers he's prob a lil put off at first

like ma'am?

this is the demon slayer corps??

we don't have time for all ur mothering and coddling

but then he's injured on a mission

and waiting in the infirmary for shinobu to show up and patch him up

and then u bust through the doors???

confused asf

shinobu is on a mission and you've been helping out in the infirmary

so looks like ur the one taking care of him today

and turns out his injury is bad enough to land him an extended stay in his lil hospital bed

and after a few days of u taking care of him

with ur red face and soft stuttered words

he learns that you're not so bad

and he actually enjoys being around you

and being taken care of

won't voice this tho

but when Aoi comes in to give him his meds one day he gives himself away by accident

with a

"where's y/n?"

he's a blushing grumbling mess after that lol

after he discharged best believe the next time he gets injured he's not even going to the infirmary

he's hunting u tf down

nobody else gets to take care of him except YOU

and thats period.

[ellecdc]

Mother, i had a request but i forgot what it was 😭😭 i was sooo excited tooo 😫

But in trying to remember i had another brilliant idea!!

Reader x Reggie where theyre both stoic, slightly volatile 🐍 but theyre actually really soft and mushy. And then SURPRISE!! Theyre actually also dating Remus who takes care of them and is super protective. Maybe its revealed near the full moon and possessive Moony makes an appearance.

Siri is flabberghasted; Barty is horrified his darling sweethearts are be defiled; James is shook; and Lily is yhe ultimate bro and super proud of Rem.

Anyway, im sorry your computer was so mean to you. I hope you're looking after yourself 🩵🩵

......this is going to go down in history as my most controversial post........😈 may I present to you.....poly!MoonWater 😈😈😈😈😈

poly!moonwater x fem stoic!reader (i.e., Remus Lupin x Regulus Black x reader)

Sirius Black was admittedly currently going through a hard time.

Now, depending on who you asked, one (literally everyone and anyone) might say it was his own fault.

But if you asked Sirius Black? It was everyone else and their insufferable happiness that was to blame.

His insufferable best-friend-that-anyone-could-ever-ask-for finally landed the woman of his dreams and said woman of previously mentioned best friend was horribly in love with the sod.

Even his baby brother was happy! Which seemed like an oxymoron because in looking at Regulus Arcturus Black, one would assume that boy had never known a single moment of happiness in his life.

If one took into account their childhoods, they’d be right.

But Regulus Black, who was quiet in a way that made you feel like you were always being judged and ridiculed (you were) who very rarely had a kind thing to say about anyone had found happiness (read: a girl) who, for all intents and purposes, could be his personality doppelganger.

One difference, however, was that you were quiet in a way that always had one feeling like you knew too much, saw too much, and you were far too perceptive for anyone’s good. You always seemed to be analyzing the people around you and Sirius, sue him, found that incredibly disconcerting. 

He did not wish to be known, thank you very much. 

And even Moony! Moony, the bastard, was seeing someone! Fucked if Sirius knew who though because the sod wouldn't tell anyone who they were. He just kept popping back to the dorm room covered in hickies and looking far too pleased with himself whilst offering no details.

He was even spending entire nights away from the dorm, and always made sure he had the sodding map with him so they couldn’t even see where he was.

So yeah, Sirius was pissed.

And before you ask – no, it’s not because he was lonely – in fact, he had frequent visitors in his bed thank you very much.  And NO, he didn’t want to discuss the fact that perhaps if he didn’t run at the first sign of commitment or emotional intimacy, he too would have happiness. 

Perhaps he just wanted everyone else to be slightly less happy for his own sake.

Did no one ever think about Sirius Black?

Give right now for example. He and Regulus had been...hanging out (if that’s what you could call the two of them sitting together not speaking as they each did their own homework) since Sirius insisted it was important to do so, especially since Sirius no longer lived at home meaning that their usual means of brotherly bonding (read: trauma) no longer took place. 

And then James showed up (he was so lucky Sirius loved him) who was but of course accompanied by Lily Evans (she was so lucky she’s as lovely as she is) which turned into a small James Potter roast on account of Regulus and Lily both having years’ worth of material from hating him up until recently, and Sirius had loads of material on account of him being a certified hater. 

And then Moony showed up, and if Sirius didn’t know any better, he had definitely been fooling around mere moments ago.

But Sirius did know better.

“Moony, what broom closet did you just crawl out of and where’s the poor soul that was stuck in there with you?” He spat.

Remus merely chuckled and pulled a book out of his bag, making himself comfortable in one of the library’s grandfather chairs. “No one was stuck anywhere with me.”

“No, I’m sure they were a very willing participant.” Regulus drawled, looking particularly bored for all intents and purposes, never bothering to lift his gaze from his book.

“No need to be jealous, baby Black. You’re more than welcome to join me in such broom closets.” Remus joked with a wink.

“Oi!” Sirius swatted at Remus on behalf of his brother (he’s welcome). “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, and he’s taken thank you very much.”

“Merlin knows how,” James muttered none too quietly, “it’s not like he’s very approachable.”

Regulus lifted a lazy eyebrow as he looked at James from above the pages of his book. “I’ll have you know I’m very approachable to those I wish to be approached by.”

“Hi Reggie!” 

“Get fucked.” Regulus called back to Barty Crouch Junior, hardly sparing his best friend a glance as he approached him from behind. 

“Wow, Reggie’s in a good mood today, huh?” Barty said as he sat on one arm of Regulus’ chair, causing James to laugh until he realized that Barty wasn’t joking.

Suddenly another body showed up and gently sat on the other arm of Regulus’ chair.

Sirius watched as Regulus’ impassive face completely cleared of all contempt and he looked up at you with pure and unadulterated adoration.

It made Sirius sick. 

“Bonjour, mon cheri.” He murmured softly, in complete contrast to the harsh, militarized way he had previously been spitting at everyone else. 

You smiled gently at the boy as you pulled a notebook out of your book bag and produced a small, pressed flower, handing it to Regulus between your thumb and forefinger.

Regulus looked at it like you had just presented him with a hundred-year-old bottle of fire-whiskey.

“Did you pick this for me?” He asked gently, plucking the flower from your fingers with matching delicacy.

You offered him a quiet ‘mhm’ and Sirius noticed a shy smile grace your lips. Regulus’ eyes moved from the flower to your face, and he gazed at you like you had hung the moon.

“Merci, mon amour.” He said reverently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Lily looked at the two of you with a smile one might see on the face of a proud mother, James looked at the two of you like he was seeing a bowtruckle for the first time, and Remus looked oddly taken with the show of affection. Barty was apparently the only other sane one amongst them – oh gods, maybe Sirius really was losing it.

“Where the fuck has this Regulus been the last six years?” Barty muttered incredulously. 

Without much effort on your part, you reached over Regulus’ shoulder and shoved Barty off the arm of the chair and onto the floor before sliding to sit directly in Regulus’ lap.

“You...alright, Crouch?” James called tentatively from his place on the other side of the couple. 

“Oh, I’m fine. That’s just how she shows her love.” Barty said as he bounced back up, completely unperturbed. 

“Is it now?” Sirius asked, tone dripping with sarcasm. Remus swatted Sirius’ leg with his book.

“What?” Sirius squawked.

“Be nice.” He chided.

“I am nice! And why do you care?” Sirius argued, though he never got an answer. 

“I think they’re cute.” Lily announced, sending a sly smirk towards Remus.

“See? Lily gets it.” Remus said with a shrug as he went back to his book.

Sirius hated every single one of them.

But if Sirius thought that had been rough, he had no idea what was in store for him today. 

Sirius, Remus, Peter, James and... Lily had all been sitting at the Gryffindor table during dinner when Sirius noticed you rushing into the Great Hall looking rather frazzled.

“Whoa, what’s going on with Y/N?” Peter asked, apparently having noticed you at the same time as Sirius.

The conversation stopped abruptly as Remus’ head snapped towards the entrance, seemingly on high alert upon hearing of your arrival.

Sirius watched as you scanned the Hall before your eyes fell on their group. Your face crumpled in misery, and you rushed over. You were usually so polished and poised, any and all emotions locked away behind a well-fitted mask, no wonder you and Regulus got along so well.

Regulus...something must have happened to Regulus. Sirius had a dreadful feeling settle in the pit of his stomach; what could have happened to make you rush up to him looking that alarmed?

Except...you breezed right past him.

“What’s wrong, lovebug?” Remus cooed quietly, causing Sirius to choke on his own spit.

“He was hurt during practice.” You cried quietly, voice no more than a whisper as you moved to step between Remus’ spread legs where he had rotated on the bench to face you. His hands landed on the back of your thighs were his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your tight clad legs.

“Okay. How hurt?” Remus asked just as quietly, ignoring the sputtering happening from James, the chuckling from Lily, and the horrified expression painting Sirius’ face.

“Dislocated shoulder.” You cried miserably, as if you’d just been told Regulus was damned to spend the rest of his life in a vegetative state.

Remus’s mouth looked like it was fighting really hard to smile as his eyes pooled with equal parts fondness, worry (for you or Regulus, Sirius wasn’t sure at this moment), and no shortage of love.

What the fuck was going on right now!? 

“What the fuck is going on right now!?” Sirius demanded, his outside voice echoing the one inside of his head.

You startled a little at his exclamation, leaning closer into Remus who increased his embrace around you. 

“What’s happening dear padfoot, is it appears your brother has been injured during quidditch practice. Perhaps you ought to go see how he is?” Remus taunted as he continued running soothing hands over your body.

“Yeah, yeah; the sky is blue, and people get hurt in quidditch. Now what is this!?” He screeched gesturing wildly at the two of you. 

You looked equal parts embarrassed from the attention and equal parts wanting to tell Sirius off for downplaying what you clearly thought was some great upheaval in Regulus’ life when Lily spoke up.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice, Pads.”

His mouth dropped open as he turned to regard his best friend’s girlfriend with a look of pure betrayal.

“Et tu, Lily!?” Sirius cried as James sputtered, “you knew!?”

Remus just smiled as he shoved his nose into your collarbone. You brought up a hand to begin scratching at his scalp, and Sirius was certain the sods leg would be thumping in contentment if he were a dog.

“Let’s go, Sirius.” Remus finally muttered, interrupting an argument that was going nowhere between James, Lily, and Sirius. “You’ve got a brother in the hospital wing.”

You hurried on ahead of them, clearly not interested in the talk the two friends were about to have.

“So, are you fucking my brother too or just fucking him over by screwing his girl?” Sirius finally spat with his arms crossed petulantly over his chest. 

Remus groaned and looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength to get through this conversation with Sirius Drama Queen Black. “Sirius, can you ask me a question that’s less likely to get me punched in the face?”

“No.” Sirius muttered. 

“He’s happy, Sirius. I promise.” Remus pressed. “He...he really deserves all the love he’s getting.”

And Sirius would have been an absolute arse if he’d had anything to say in response to that...

Don’t get him wrong, Sirius was an arse and did have many things to say in response to that, but the words died on the tip of his tongue when they walked into the hospital wing to see you sitting on the end of Regulus’ hospital bed.

Regulus, save the sling holding his arm to his chest and the fact that he was sitting in a hospital bed, looked as casual as Sirius ever remembered seeing him, smiling at you with...

Love.

A lot of love. 

“I’m fine, amour, I promise.” They heard him plead with you as they approached.

“Still have all your limbs, I see.” Remus commented as he walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to Regulus’ hair, causing the youngest Black to blush something fierce as he looked over at Sirius. 

“I’m sure she told you I was comatose.” He commented quietly, turning and offering you a wink.

“Don’t tease me...” You moaned, looking very much like you still wanted to fold Regulus up and put him in your pocket for safe keeping.

“Yeah, don’t tease her, love. You’d be sitting in this hospital bed all on your lonesome with no one you dote on you otherwise.” Remus jokingly chided. 

“Love.” Sirius groaned with a dramatized gag. 

“Oh, grow up, Siri.” Regulus barked.

Sirius’ head snapped over to his brother at the sound of his childhood nickname. Regulus’ cheeks were still dusted pink, whether it be at the unplanned outing of his relationship, being hurt, or the gravity of this moment.

Regulus hadn’t called him that since they were children...like, real children before the trauma, the alienation, the disinheritance, the running away...

Perhaps because Regulus had spent all of that time living in unmeasurable pain. Just like Sirius had.

And maybe, now...Regulus had people who made him feel brave enough to be vulnerable like this, to reconnect in ways he long thought impossible. 

Fuck Moony and his good naturedness; Sirius hated that Remus was right about this. 

“Oh, fucking Godric.” Sirius muttered petulantly as he pulled Regulus into a bone crushing hug.

Literally.

“Sirius!” Regulus groaned before Sirius was ripped away from his brother. Sirius expected Remus to be the one throwing him to the floor for inadvertently hurting Regulus’ injury...but it was you. 

“You idiot.” You hissed as new tears formed in your eyes, immediately moving to grab the ice pack from the bedside table and gently placing it on Regulus’ shoulder.

Remus and Regulus looked at you with so much adoration, Sirius was certain hearts were going to start pouring out of their eyes and floating around their heads.

“I’m fine, thanks!” He called out as he hauled himself up off the floor. 

“Oh good.” You said sarcastically.

“I don’t like this.” Sirius grumbled, causing all three faces to turn to him.

“Pads...”

“Sirius, please.” Regulus implored.  

“What if you break his heart?” He asked no one in particular. “What if you hurt my baby brother? Who am I supposed to support then? Or you; what am I supposed to do if you hurt my best friend? And what if you tossers hurt Y/N!”

The three of you shared a look before his brother turned to him. “Sirius, if we breakup, I give you permission to side with Remus.”

“And if we break up, I promise you can side with Y/N.” Remus added.

“Nope.” You said quickly, “that’s fine, I don’t need to be included in this.”

Sirius groaned out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank gods. Okay, okay. I guess I'll allow it then....”

“THE THREE OF YOU ARE WHAT!?” Barty screeched as he stood at the door of the infirmary, still in his quidditch kit.

“Do we actually have to have this conversation again?” You groaned quietly.

Remus shot Regulus and extremely guilty look as he slowly stood.

“Remus.” Regulus warned.

Remus grimaced and slowly made his way over to you.

“Remus John Lupin, I swear to Salazar...”

“Regulus, I love you; I do. But...he’s you’re friend an- NOW DOVE” He shouted, and the two of you took off in a sprint out of the infirmary. 

“Quite the catch you’ve got yourself there Regs.” Sirius taunted. 

“Sod off.” Regulus muttered as Barty made his way over to his bedside.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sirius jeered as he, too, took off out of the infirmary, leaving Regulus Black to deal with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior on his own.  

don't hate me

[dansemacabre]

i’ve been thinking about “sixer, it would eat you alive” since i read it and. man. every layer you peel back makes it worse. im not a bill apologist but. shit

if you (1) take it at face value, it paints bill as an apologetic murderer in his single (and maybe sole) open moment of regret. he doesn’t let his walls down often- only with ford do we even get to see the remnant of his galaxy, see the “actual remorse” ford describes, get just a hint of his origins. but he does it, because he thinks ford should know.

if you (2) take it from ford’s point of view, as something he committed to journal three, like. wow. imagine being so committed to a being that you’d hunt down and kill the monster that destroyed his home, only to (assumably) figure out later that that being was the monster. the small moments of trust, the “good times”, are so key to manipulation. how long did ford hold onto that one shred of vulnerability? no wonder ford stayed for as long as he did. in his eyes, bill was a survivor. ford wanted to survive too.

(slight tw below for unreality- any time i mention our reality, i mean “our reality” as a narrative device used in the book of bill as a proxy for the idea of bill being in our reality, since he can’t actually be in our reality. all of this is a fictional theory about a show/book with fictional contents!)

but if you (3) remember that “even his lies are lies” and absolutely Nothing bill says should be trusted. Whoo boy. if i read tbob right the book itself is being created in the theraprism (even tho it shows up with the ciphertologists at some point? idk that’s a whole other post). it’s meant to show what the reader wants to see; it manifests in our reality as what the collective fandom wants to see. so if we want to see truth, if we want to see where bill ended up and who he actually is, there’s a non-zero chance that the whole interaction was a complete fabrication.

imagine bill, stuck in the actively harmful, probably earth-illegal theraprism, once again being forced to be “fixed” and molded into something more palatable, being forced to conform no matter how much it hurts. (i know natural uncontrollable mutation ≠ just so much murder and destruction and chaos, but. you can’t ignore the similarities. bill has obviously been thinking about those silly straws.)

he looks back on everything that went wrong, back on his relationship with ford, back through every dimension where he wins. would that one moment, that one truth amid centuries of lies, have saved him from purgatory? if he had just been open? shown his damage? maybe he did think of his parents, or his henchmaniacs (especially the oracle). people who he might have once opened up to. maybe he just wanted to open up to someone again.

so in his own weird way, stuck in a cell, he reshaped reality again. in this reality, for this fleeting moment, he had been someone worth believing. and ford had listened, hell, ford had wanted to help. looking back, knowing how he treated ford, knowing how ford ended up because of it, maybe bill would have said the most honest thing he’d ever told ford: i am the monster, i am not worth your time or belief, and i will eat you alive.

[writingmeraki]

kiss the shit out of you — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you thought there'd never be a time when you would experience first-hand jealousy but turns out you aren't an exception to this emotion.

( or in which your boss seungcheol loves to find new ways to push your buttons. and push you towards mingyu too. you might just punch him or thank him. )

pairing: secret!agent mingyu x secret!agent reader, established stage. genre : fluff, angstish. warnings : jealousy, mentions of bars and drinks, death threats, no actual kissing guys im sorry

a/n : pri comeback with another secret agent mingyu drabble. who cheered. not a full on comeback but hey i picked this up from my abandoned clusters of wips and welp this is how it turned out, let me know what you think !! also urm if the writing is a lil yk wonky pls bare w me it's been a long while <3 also the summary probs sucks my bad g again it's been aaa whileee :DDDDDD

word count : 1.8k

“I want to kill you.” 

You glared at Cheol as you clenched your fist to your side resisting the urge to punch the shit-eating grin off his face. 

Not an ideal sentence to tell your boss but the situation he’d kept you in was going the way he predicted and not how you thought it would. 

It started earlier in the day when he called Mingyu and you along with Chan and Seokmin in to do a mission which would require disguises and putting on an act. It was simple really he said, you all had to attend a gala, which had the member of a gang you’d been trying to catch attending as well. 

Butter him up, a few drinks later and he’d let the information you seeked slip out with ease. This particular member was one who caused a lot of mishaps, knowingly or unknowingly, he was hard to track but this was a sure tip as his name was also on the guest list.

It all seemed okay until he told you the twist. You would be the servers along with Chan and Seokmin. You looked at him in confusion wondering if he forgot Mingyu was also called in and was right beside you also wondering something similar. 

“What about him?”

“Oh right. He’s going to be attending as a couple with Yura.” He said it nonchalantly while looked towards you,

“It shouldn’t be a bother to you right? Considering it’s just a few hours and most importantly for the job.” He had a smug look on his face to which you slowly narrowed your eyes at him. Mingyu was going to oppose, but you shushed him. 

“It’s for the job Gyu, it wouldn’t matter to me.” You knew he had more to say but he just frowned and nodded at your words.

You knew what card he had been playing, you could remember him asking you that what if there came a time your partner would have to act as a couple with someone else would you have gotten jealous and you also remember you scoffing at him saying, it would be for a mission only anyways, why would you be? He protested saying it was natural to feel jealous but you told him that then you would need to get a grip instead of being unprofessional. 

Now you could feel your words bite you back as you tried not to glare at the way she seemed more than excited to be with ‘the most sought out’ agent.

You scoffed at yourself, feeling an even worse guilt at being jealous. The kind where you trusted him, but you couldn’t help the ugly emotion to rise up and as time went it seemed to rile up.

It was going to be one of the rookies, her first big assignment being this. Her name was Yura, from what you recalled. 

Your relationship with Mingyu was not exactly public. Again it was your idea. It seemed all your ideas were eventually coming to bite you in the back. Maybe this was your karma for something.

Eventually looking away from the couple, you sighed as you sat down by the bar.

“Oye, you aren’t supposed to sit, you’re the server here.” Before he could speak further, Chan elbowed your boss to which he glared at him but eventually gulped a little when he saw the look on your face. 

Now, Choi Seungcheol was no coward. But he knew better than to already fuel a fire that might just burn him alive. Quite literally. He thinks he’s spoken enough when he sees your stare harden.

“Haha, or not, yeah um…continue to sit as you wish, besides we’re just back up here…I’ll uh, I’ll go finish the um…cleaning the glasses.” 

“Get me a drink. Strong.”  

And as your pretend bartender colleague made you an actual whisky on the rocks — training required prior days to mission — your eyes automatically once again drifted off to him. 

Your partner, your boyfriend, highlighting the your factor harshly in your thoughts as you looked at the pretend couple. 

Jealousy, you learnt that day, is an ugly emotion but a fascinating one too. It might slowly chip away at your self esteem and build on a pile of undeserving guilt but it somehow helps in emphasising just how much one means to the other. 

It was a horrible pit at the bottom of your stomach but an unflattering brush in the depth of your heart. Both making you more confused and therefore, anger being the only emotion that would make sense. 

You could hear her giggles as she leaned in closer to his side, her arm practically cushioned between his and you clenched your molars in the assumed anger. 

It was as if he could sense your gaze. He always could, since a long time actually. As though his mind seemed to embed you, your presence right into his unconscious to the point he could practically feel your gazes on him. 

Maybe an exaggeration but he thinks when it comes to you, it all seemed to fall less.  

His eyes flickered to see where you were directing yours at, and immediately he had to put in his all to not just move away. He was trying his all honestly, the reason he accepted was because he was sure you were also okay with it. 

Professionally. Of course.

Emotionally? Personally? 

You may have just been on the edge of punching someone. Seungcheol, you wish. 

The way you were looking seemed nonchalant but this was the man that loved – loves you. Of course he knew when you were anything but. 

Before you could even move your attention to him from where it had darted to – Yura subtly moved her hand above Mingyu’s. It was so subtle but you were very observant, unfortunately in this case, hand clenching around the now almost empty glass of alcohol. 

It seemed in a flash, he abruptly pulled away, murmuring an excuse of getting another drink and you rolled your eyes at the pet names that smoothly rolled out of Yura’s tongues for him. You could feel your sanity level drop at that point. 

Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself as you shut your eyes for a second, that this was a mission. A job. You couldn’t, shouldn’t fuck this up because you can’t keep your newly acquired emotions in check—

A hand on top of yours was the next thing you felt. And even before you opened your eyes to face the owner of the hand, you already knew. 

“Hey.” Minyu softly whispered, facing affront while you turned your head in his direction. He was close but not enough to seem suspicious, hand being hidden from the view of the others at the table. 

Even though it was just a small touch, he kept it there as he spoke out to Chan. Mumblings of the drinks, a few details about the information he managed to get. 

Yet all you could focus on was the warmth that radiated from his hand above yours. The way his hair was styled, the way his longer strands stood out perfectly, the way his pinkish lips moved as he spoke, eyes briefly shifting to yours when he did and it seemed he noticed your blatant checking out as one corner of his lip rose up. 

Dammnit, his suits were always your weakness. 

“Hi” He tried again, briefly shifting his head in your direction which seemed to snap you out of your daze as you blinked a few times.

“Hey.” You turned your hand that was facing down, and he briefly looked over and intertwined his fingers through yours.

Chan hastily looked over as he made the drinks, deciding he could probably slow down making the few drinks, and not like he was an expert at being fast anyway.

“Be careful.” He whispered to your pair, to which you looked at him and rolled your eyes but gave a short nod. 

“Are you alright?” As Mingyu asked, you froze up for a moment, wondering if your obvious discomfort was already known to him. 

Gulping, you nodded because it seemed easier to nod than to let your words out in fear of stumbling over reasons for your discomfort. 

Jealousy, was again, odd. It made you ashamed, a lump in the throat due to feeling like perhaps you were just overthinking it all.

You didn’t even realise you were blatantly showing your nervousness, eyes looking at anywhere but his and mulling your bottom lip. 

“You don’t need to worry over anything, ‘s going fine okay?”

“I can see that.” 

The words came out sharply than intended, and he blinked owlishly, eyebrow raising at you with an emotion that seemed familiar to both confusion and wonder in his eyes. 

“You don’t seem okay though.” He bit the bullet and told you his actual thoughts. He would have even said his assumptions but he did not want to tread too far. 

“I’ll be fine, stop worrying about me. Your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate that.” 

Aha. There it was.

He scanned your face. The scoff was prominent as you narrowed your eyes ahead.

“You know you're the only one that matters to me right?” And even though he was tempted to tease you at the moment, he figured he'd save it for later. 

His hand squeezed yours, as if to amplify his words, their meaning to you. How much he truly meant them, he hoped that it would somehow reach to you through the simple motion of squeezing your hand tighter.

And somehow, he knows it did when the crease between your brow slowly disappeared, when the scowl on your face dropped and a seemingly exhausted sigh escaped you.

Jealousy was…tiring.

“Yes, I know.”

Without thinking, he leaned in closer to you, mouth grazing your ear as he spoke, the sudden warmness of his breathing so close making you shudder slightly.

“Tell you what baby? You can simply kiss the out of me when we get back. You know, remove all your anger, I heard it's a great exercise.”

The abruptness of the statement made you pull away and you couldn't help but giggle at his words, feeling a lot lighter than previously. A warm feeling spreads on your cheeks at the thought of his pink lips captivating yours. 

And of course, no one in this world could surprise you the way Kim Mingyu does. 

Well two could play at this.

Leaning in closer, your eyes gleamed with an equally mischievous flair to his, you whispered, only for his ears.

“As if I need permission to kiss the shit out of you, I hope you know I can and will do it anytime, anywhere.” 

His smile turned into a smirk as he glanced back at the table, seeing how his colleague was occupying the others, knowing he could go off for a few.

Looking at you determinedly, he stood up, pushing his hand forward,

“Bathroom break?” 

And of course, anywhere Kim Mingyu would go, you'd too. 

Placing your head in his, you nodded with a chuckle at how unserious this was getting,

“Sure.”

Lucky for the both of you, it seemed you were good at keeping your words. And kissing of course. 

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys ; @toplinehyunjin ; @cherrylovescheol ; @stagefrjghts

( if you want to be added just send an ask/reply to this !)

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

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[norrizzandpia]

Showing You My Love (LN4)

Summary: McLaren’s forced Lando into a PR stunt of a relationship and his girlfriend, Y/n, back into hiding just when she was ready to go public.

Warnings: language, a condom, angst, a sort of break up, but happy ending

Note: not a request IM SORRY this one isn’t as slay as i can do but i just rlly wanted to get something out bc I haven’t posted in a while and miss yall 🫶🏻 this one’s storyline is quite complicated because Lando is in a PR relationship whilst also having an actual gf sooo have fun? ALSO SMUT FLUFF AND ANGST FOR BOTH LANDO AND OSCAR WILL BE COMING SOON I HAVE LESS THAN A WEEK OF SCHOOL LEFT SO JUST BEAR WITH ME 🙏🏻

“Lan?” Y/n shouts as she walks through the door of his apartment, a large smile on her face as she prepares to ask him a question that could set anew relationship.

She hears a soft sigh before he responds, “In here.”

She travels to the living room to find her boyfriend sitting on the couch, his head buried in his phone.

She sits hesitantly next to him, newfound nerves erupting in her stomach.

“Can I talk to you?” She whispers, his blatant disregard for her presence told her this might not be a good time to breach this particular subject.

He nods nonetheless, waving his hand slightly to signal her continuation, “Sure, what’s up?”

She takes a deep breath, the fact that his eyes aren’t on hers makes her want to back out. She perseveres, although, hands clasped in her lap as she asks, “Do you think we could go public? With our relationship, I mean.”

At this, he freezes. Lando’s fingers stop flying over his phone’s keyboard and he slowly turns to stare at her.

The words try to fall from his lips, but they stop right at the cusp. Lando watches as she retreats into herself, a reality check that cuts deep in her heart as he looks to be rejecting her proposition.

“I…” He hesitates, “I can’t.”

Her eyebrows contort, “Why?”

His phone raises to her face, his hand shoving it in her eyeline to see the text conversation he had been having with Zak before she had sat down. Her gaze floats over the blue bubbles for a moment before she understands and her heart sinks.

“I don’t understand.” She does, though. She just can’t bring herself to accept it.

Lando forces her to, “They want me in a relationship, but a PR stunt. A girl named Olivia, they said.”

Her nails rips at the skin of her thumb, “Why not me?”

“It’s good for the team, baby. She’s a big name, her dad is a big investor. I have to do this.”

It hurts too much to ask, “What does that mean for us?”

He nods, “I knew you were going to ask me this. This doesn’t mean anything for us. It just means that we have to stay quiet for a little while longer. I’m still your boyfriend, Y/n.”

She huffs, “Just in private.”

His arms slithers around her shoulders, a touch so cold she wants to shove it away, “I’ll always be yours. Anywhere. Anytime.”

Sure, let’s see if that proves true, she thought.

—

Olivia is a woman of many things. Kindness is not one of them.

From the moment she steps foot into Lando’s life, Y/n is her main target. From backhanded compliments to obvious jests at her, Y/n watches as Lando lets it all go unsaid.

“Y/n?” Olivia’s voice rings in Y/n’s ear as she stops her staring at Lando.

Turning her head, Y/n smile is strained, “Yes?”

Olivia cocks her head and the sinister look looms beneath her blue eyes, “You’re sitting too close to Lando. Remember, he’s my boyfriend outside. Anybody could see you eyefucking him right now.”

Y/n analyzes the situation. At a lunch table in the paddock, Lando sitting to her left, Olivia to her right, fans and employees scattered amongst the ground below them, Y/n feels her tolerance break a bit more.

She slides her chair across the ground, a dry screeching ringing her ears and drowning out the anger toward the two people sitting closest to her.

Olivia, the woman she loathes, and Lando, the man she hates that she loves. Since the beginning of their act, Y/n has understood where her place is, or at least she has understood from the constant reminder from all people involved. Lando, Olivia, Zak, and Jon have made it their duty to remind her of her image as Lando’s best friend, nothing more.

In the beginning, she felt as though she meant a bit more than just nothing, but, as she sits between the couple as they share small talk, she feels to be falling behind.

A sort of feeling that plasters her heart on the wall and spreads it around until its pieces and bits are left on the ground.

A sort of feeling that forces her to grab her purse and leave the table, mumbling an excuse of wanting to find Oscar, the only other man she knows throughout the paddock.

The feeling worsens when Lando smiles at her, nodding his head along as if there’s no problem.

There’s a wetness pooling in her eyes that begs to differ, that counters Lando’s implications.

🏎️

Y/n finds Oscar in his driver’s room, his body hunched over the bench as he texts Lily on his phone. When he hears the creaking of the door, his eyes lift and begin to soften when they take in Y/n.

“Hey! What’s up?” He cheerfully says, the tone making Y/n draw in a breath as she plasters a smile on her face.

She plops down on his massage bed, “Nothing! Just bored.”

At that, he seems confused, “Where’s Lando? He isn’t free? I feel like it can’t get boring with him.” He chuckles.

She smiles softly, head falling down to stare at her hands in her lap, “He’s with Olivia. Thought I’d give them their space.”

She raises her eyes when she hears Oscar let out a scoff. He stares at her blankly before groaning, “I’m so sorry, I know she’s Lando’s girlfriend and all, but, oh my god, Y/n, I can’t stand her.”

Her teeth shine from her giggles, “Ah, she’s okay. She’s not that bad.”

Oscar deadpans, “Y/n, she asked you how much your Chanel purse was and then told you hers was more expensive.”

Y/n shakes her head, eyes falling back down to her lap, “Yeah, that wasn’t her finest moment.”

“It would make more sense for Lando to date you.” He whispers. Whether he meant for her to hear it or not, Y/n doesn’t know. Regardless, she acts as if she doesn’t, not wanting to have to create a situation where she has to genuinely lie to one of her friends.

As if she hasn’t been doing that for the past year she’s been with Lando.

Lying to every person she cherished most was the worst thing to ask of her. There was a resentment that brewed below the love she had for Lando because of the things he made her give up for him.

“Are you staying for the race? I know it goes pretty late into the night.” Oscar pipes up when a silence encompasses them.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m going to go back to the hotel after this.”

“Oh, too bad.” Oscar sighs as he gets up from his seat, walking over to her and peeking in her bag.

Y/n’s eyebrow inches up, “What are you doing?”

Oscar plants a sly smile on his face as his hand lightly pushes the bag open further, “Got any gum in here?”

She laughs loudly as he continues to search through her bag, less ashamed now. She’s keeled over when she hears him cackle. Y/n looks to see Oscar clasping a small package in his hand, a large smile on his face as he stares in disbelief.

“A condom?! Why do you have a condom?!” He screams, which warrants Y/n to slap her hands over his mouth.

She whispers, “Shut up!”

Oscar's mouth slobbers over her palms as he continues to laugh, “Who are you planning on sleeping with here, Y/n?”

She draws a blank, saying the one thing that comes to her mind, “He isn’t involved with F1.”

Another lie added to the pile she agitatedly sits on.

Oscar draws back, “Oh? There’s an actual man in the picture?”

She grins slightly, grabbing her bag and moving toward the door, “And you wonder why I’m leaving early.”

Oscar stays there, still chuckling at the leftover condom in his hand.

🏎️

Hours later, Lando is running around the paddock like a mad man, stopping random strangers to ask if they had seen Y/n.

Oscar stands off to the side when he hears Lando’s frantic voice behind him, petrifying an innocent fan asking for a simple photo. He waltzes over, hand coming to clasp Lando’s shoulder before saying, “Why don’t you just take the picture, mate?”

Lando turns his head, eyeing Oscar before fully moving his body the other way, “Do you know where Y/n is? I haven’t heard from her at all.”

Oscar looks at Lando blankly, “She left. You didn’t know?”

Lando steps back, “Left? No? What?”

Sensing that there is more to this discussion, he leans around Lando and grabs the fan’s phone. He shuffles Lando and the fan into the frame before snapping the picture, ushering the fan away gently.

When they’re left alone, Oscar questions, “How come you didn’t know? It seemed like a set plan when she told me. She’s going to meet some guy, she said.”

Lando’s eyes bulge, “What?”

The tone is low, intimidating and it makes Oscar doubt the platonic dynamic of the two.

“She hasn’t answered your calls? Have you tried to call her?” Oscar changes the subject, not wanting to realize something when Lando actively has a girlfriend.

Lando shakes his head, “No. Who’s this guy?”

“I don’t know, Lando. She didn’t say anything about him. Ask her about it later. After the race.” Oscar tries, knowing Lando’s presence is direly needed in a few minutes when the lights go out on the track.

Lando huffs, “Fine.”

He walks off, clearly irritated at Y/n’s disappearance.

Oscar watches the scene play out in front of him.

Lando’s figure vanishes from sight.

Then, out of the corner of Oscar’s eye, Olivia’s eyes stay on Lando’s distress before he goes out of sight. She leans against a wall, a smirk on her face that reads something dark.

She shakes her head, tapping away at her phone, as she snickers to herself, seemingly satisfied with her boyfriend’s response.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to witness her behavior.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to see Lando’s and Olivia’s relationship in a different light.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to question what really goes on behind closed doors.

—

“Shit fucking race. Shit fucking day. Shit fucking year. Jesus fucking Christ.” Lando whispers to himself as he unlocks the door to his hotel room.

When he enters through the threshold, the lights are completely out, the only light being the soft sunlight bleeding through the curtains. Y/n’s body lays cuddled under the blankets of the bed and the sight melts Lando’s heart, no matter how disappointed he is in her lack of support today.

He checks the clock, noticing the blaring 7 that makes him feel more comfortable waking Y/n up.

“Baby,” He says lightly, hands shaking her body softly, “Love, wake up.”

She groans under his touch, body crouching further under the bed sheets before her eyelids flutter open.

She looks at him in a raw way that makes him feel exposed, her piercing gaze striking his soul permanently.

“Where’d you go?” He asks as she sits up, blankets still wrapped tightly around her cool body.

She sighs, “I left, Lando.”

“So I heard. To go meet a man, might I add.” He says. Although, this time, it continues to be soft, but there’s a passive undertone that communicates the feeling of abandonment.

She shakes her head, “No, that’s a lie. Just like we are.”

He rears back, “Excuse me?”

His hands are wound tightly across each of her arms and they flex under her skin as the truth lingers in Lando’s ears.

Y/n groans as she pulls herself away from him, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What? Me? Us?” He adds, his body standing up and towering over her.

She mimics his movement, the sheets falling from her shoulders as she extends her limbs, “Everything, Lando. This whole situation! I was so fucking stupid to think that you being in a PR relationship while we were together was something that could work.”

Lando shrugs, “What are you talking about?! You’ve never told me it wasn’t working!”

Her jaw drops open, “You thought this was working?! You thought I was fine with you parading around outside with another girl? Something I’ve wanted for way too long!”

“Y/n, this is bullshit! It’s on you for not telling me how you were feeling!” He remarks, hands being shoved inside his pockets as they bicker back and forth.

She rubs a hand over her forehead, “No, it’s not bullshit, Lando! You’re bullshit! This whole fucking relationship is bullshit! It’s been a fucking lie from the moment it started! I don’t want to be a part of that.”

He sits back down, head in his hands as they pull at the strands, “I don’t know what to tell you, Y/n.”

She stands, vulnerable and helpless, before him as she whispers, “Do you know what it feels like to feel like the other woman when you’re supposed to be the main one? Do you know what it feels like to feel like a dirty secret, something to be ashamed of and hide from prying eyes? Do you know what it fucking feels like to feel so incredibly alone next to a man who is supposed to give you the world? It feels like shit, Lando. You make me feel like shit. You and Zak and Jon and Olivia and everyone else tied to your name. You all make me feel like shit.”

There’s a tear that falls from Lando’s eye as he wills himself to look her in the eye, “I still want to give you the entire world.”

“You can’t.”

The weight of her statement and the hard way she says it breaks him. She stopped living in delusions long ago and he stayed in a land where having her was possible.

“I’m sorry,” He says, watching her put clothes on and grab her suitcase.

“I know you are.” She responds, a beat passing before she whispers back, “I’m sorry too.”

Her definitive statement achingly stays with him as he watches her gather her things and call an Uber.

“Where are you going to go?” He says softly, almost as if breaking the silence will break them further.

“My sister’s house. You know, you remember cause I told you, she lives a few hours from here.”

He nods, “Text me when you get there?”

She stands at the door, he stands with her, and she shakes her head, “No, Lando.”

She walks out the door, Lando grabs her arm, “Is this it? I don’t understand. Are we…” He can’t bring himself to say it.

She breathes, “I’m not sure either, to be honest. I know I said I couldn’t do this anymore with you, but it’s not that easy and I know what we have. I’ve never felt this before. I just need some time and space from you, from this world. I need to decide if staying is really worth the situation I’ve been put in.”

She walks further down the hall and Lando watches her, a few more sentences lingering in his brain that has him wishing he had said them to her.

He doesn’t get a chance to say them, however.

The elevator doors close before he can get them out.

—

There’s loud cheering and sounds of yells as Lando throws off his helmet, a large smile on his face as his first race win seeps under his skin.

He throws his body into the group of his mechanics, hugging his favorite people, and when he turns, expecting to see his favorite girl, he sees Olivia instead.

He tries to hide his disappointment as he hugs her, her body not fitting the way Y/n’s had.

There’s a silence that falls upon him as he gazes upon the thousands of people yelling his name and he’s hit with a deep wave of grief.

Grieving over the loss of his best friend, the loss of his girlfriend, the loss of the love of his life, the loss of his Y/n.

Images of her dance in his head as Mark Webber ushers him over, a microphone in each hand as he smiles at him.

A memory of the time she told him all the things she loved about him because he was feeling inadequate plagues his brain as Mark congratulates him.

“Lando! Stellar job here today in Silverstone! How does it feel to have your first race win?” Mark inquires, shaking Lando’s shoulder lovingly.

Lando hesitates to answer because, frankly, it fucking sucks. He meets Jon’s eyes and the man looks as if he’s lost himself. Jon stares at him with a deep gaze, a look Lando recognizes as the way Jon looks when he’s utterly ashamed of himself. Lando can already tell what he’s about to mouth before Jon’s lips begin to move, “I’m so sorry.” He says inaudibly.

The Brit takes the three words as a green light. The confirmation he can get his girl back.

“Not great.” Lando says into the microphone, the crowds falling silent at his surprising words.

Mark frowns, “Oh? Why’s that? This is a happy day!”

Lando shakes his head as he looks down and sighs, “You know, I always thought I would be so over the moon to win my first race, but, as I stand here, a trophy awaiting me, I genuinely feel so disappointed. I feel disappointed because I’ve lost sight of the one win in my life that I lost so stupidly. My best friend, Y/n, as everyone knows her, was never my best friend. I mean, she was my best friend, but she was also my girlfriend, somebody I was incredibly in love with. Somebody I am in love with. Shit, this is so messy and so hard to condense into this short interview, but I have to say it. Olivia and I were a PR stunt. There were individuals that wanted me to be dating someone of a higher status, something Y/n doesn’t have. She was forced to sit through four months of excruciating pain because Olivia and I were being shoved in her face. Y/n is one of the strongest people I know, the fact she was able to go through that with a straight face proves that. But, I can’t let what she told me the night she left me go unsaid.” Lando looks into the camera, as cheesy as he knows it is and says what he had wanted to tell her that night as the elevator doors cut him off, “Y/n, you are not the other woman. You are not a dirty secret and you are not alone. You are the complete opposite of all those things. You are the one person I’ve ever truly loved; the one person I want to spend the rest of my life with; the one person I cannot live without; the one person that I cannot bear hurting. I’ve hurt you, I know that, a lot of people involved in this have and I hate that. I hate that I didn’t stop what was going on, fight back against what they were asking me to do. I’m so sorry. If I could redo it, I would. I would say no to it all and go public with you. I would tell you a thousand times yes that night on the sofa when you asked me if we could go public. I would do it all so differently because, maybe I didn’t before, but I know what I’ve lost now and I will fight so much harder for us, harder than I did that night you walked out because I have been in love with you for so long. I’ve waited for you my entire life, even before I knew who you were. I’ve waited for the person I ended up settling down with, waited for the person who stole my breath. I’ve waited for you and I’m not going to let that go to waste. I was dick and I took you for granted. Please let me show you that that was never the way I wanted to treat you, that I can love you better than that. Please let me back in. It’s public now, baby. Public and I don’t want that to ever change.”

Mark smiles brightly at him as the crowd behind them cheers deafeningly, “Young love, yeah?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

🏎️

Caroline sits on the arm of the couch next to Y/n, mouth agape. Y/n mirrors her expression, blanket wrapped around her legs as Lando retreats from the frame.

“What just happened?” Caroline, her sister, asks. There’s a small smile on her face as the shock wears off.

Y/n shakes her head, her hands already trying to find her phone, “I don’t know.”

The two watch as Lando is presented with his trophy, the camera zooming in on him as he mouths, “This one’s for you, love.”

Y/n is smiling so hard it’s painful and her sister watches her with delight. When the champagne spraying is done and the feed ends, Y/n leaps from the couch.

“Did you see that?!” She exclaims, giddy laughter over the one thing she had yearned for and finally got.

Caroline joins her incessant jumping, “Yes! It’s public!”

The two squeal together, but the noises are cut off when Y/n’s phone rings from between the couch cushions.

Caroline smiles before exiting the room, Lando’s contact photo lighting up her sister’s screen and cueing her leave.

However, she stays in the other room, eavesdropping without a care in the world.

Y/n picks up the phone, shaky hand bringing the device to her ear as Lando’s panting floods through the speaker.

“Y/n? Were you watching the race?” He asks.

She nods, tears in her eyes as she whispers, “Yes,”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, “So, you saw what I said?”

“Yes,”

He’s quiet for a moment, “And… what did you think?”

He hears quiet giggling on the other end of the phone and his heart soars to the sky, “You have a way with words, Lan.”

“Only with you,” He adds, smiling to himself over the girl miles away.

There’s a loud grunt and crash on his side of the phone, one that sends Y/n laughing.

“Let me guess, Olivia?” She tries to which Lando laughs.

“Right on the nail, baby.” He whispers as her yells continue.

“What do Zak and Jon think about this?” She asks after a time.

Lando tuts, “They’re glad to get rid of Olivia. Jon apologized to me the second I got off the podium. He said he wants to apologize to you too. So does Zak. They both do. They know how they went about it all was wrong and Jon went on this whole rant about seeing me as a son and how he would never want to treat his son the way he had treated me. Trust me, love, they’re as on board with this as we are.”

Y/n nods before asking quietly, “You’re on summer break now, right?”

“Yes,”

“What are your plans?”

He smiles, “Taking the first flight to you. Why?”

Y/n laughs, “I was going to ask you if I could come to Monaco, to see you, but it turns out seeing each other is a problem already solved.”

He chuckles along with her, “No, baby, you stay right where you are. It’s time I start coming to you now. Time I start showing you the lengths I’d go to to keep you in my life, to keep loving you.”

She blushes, “That speech sure accomplished that.”

His cheeks redden just like hers, “Oh, love, that’s just the beginning.”

[todayisafridaynight]

fucked up that i have two drafted comics of jo in jail and both of them Of Course hinge on whether aoki's alive or not

[sandwhitches]

hii! can i have a cherry popsicle abt suna confessing to the reader but he’s super nervous?? thanks so much! feel free to request smth from me if you’d like to do a little exchange:)

a/n: u must be a mind reader because i’ve LITERALLY been working on this exact prompt omg!!! it’s longer than a drabble (lowkey really long so i just formatted it like a fic☠️) because i already had most of it written when u requested so enjoy :3!! also u BET im gonna send u a request yay!!!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

desc: suna is an idiot and seeks the help of an unlikely (and annoying, in his humble opinion) ally to help him confess to you

content: fem. reader, language, suna’s little sister guest star!!!!! (i love that he canonically has a little sister; she’s like middle school age in this ughhhh suna as a big brother makes me want to combust), suna pining for you like a big stupid idiot

wc: 1.5k

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

Suna Rintaro knows two things for certain: firstly, he’s absolutely in love with you, and secondly, he hasn’t a clue what to do about it. It was easier for him to come to terms with the latter, seeing as he’d spent most of his teenage years rolling his eyes at mushy displays of affection and taking the piss out of his friends who seemed to have traded all necessary brain function in exchange for falling in love. 

To him, falling in love this early on in life was as worthless and cheap as the chocolate he watched be gifted every Valentines Day; eventually, they’ll eat what they like and throw what they don’t in the trash, he’s seen it done countless times before, and he’d be stupid to let something like that happen to him. 

Still, here he is, knee-deep and sinking even deeper as the moments go by, he thinks falling in love might be like being pushed into quicksand. As odd as it is for him to admit it to himself, he doesn’t mind it at all.

There’s a certain giddiness that can’t be awarded any time other than when you talk to him. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking about your conversations, wondering if he said something wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have prolonged the exchange, and smiling fondly when he remembers he managed to make you laugh three times (a new record for him).

“What’s with that face?” Atsumu had interrupted Suna during one of the breaks at volleyball practice, his idiotic grin on full display in Rintaro’s face. Had he really been smiling just from thinking about you?

Suna had mumbled something that sounded like an awkward mixture of shut up and fuck off, quick to storm away in hopes that Atsumu didn’t catch the violent reddening of his cheeks. This is not good, he thinks, love can’t really be this hard to ignore, can it?

He’s put up a hard battle against this exact scenario, and he’s afraid you might have unknowingly thrown a wrench right into his fine tuned machine of a brain. If this really was a battle, he’s fine raising a white flag in order to get to make you laugh more often, for the slight possibility of getting to know if your lips really feel as soft as they appear, and the hope that one day he might forget all about what it was like not to be entirely in love with you. 

This is the nail in the coffin, his final surrender. Being in love really must make people stupid, because he’s nervously tugging his collar as he knocks on his younger sister's door. She chirps a surprised “Come in!” and Rintaro struggles to actually reach for the door, consumed with the reality of the fact that this really is where he’s ended up in his life. Great.

His sister gives him an incredulous look when she realizes it had been him who knocked, eyeing him suspiciously, “What do you want?” She mumbles in confusion, setting her pencil down. Suna parts his lips, mouth running dry, then sighs loudly, shaking his head. 

“What is it?” She inquires, sudden agitation laced in her tone. Rintaro looks at the ground, too embarrassed to see the inevitable shift in her expression when he asks, “What’s the right way to ask out a girl?” 

A silence follows that isn’t long enough in Suna’s opinion, quickly cut off by a loud bark of laughter, “No way! You’re asking me for advice?” 

Here’s another thing Suna Rintaro knew for certain, there’s no word that describes the extent in which his younger sister is the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Suna mutters self-consciously. This probably was a bad idea in theory, but as much as it pains him to admit it, this is his last resort. He knows next to nothing about how to be normal about talking to you, let alone confess; something is better than nothing in this situation, and he swears to himself that he will make sure he never has to ask his sister for advice like this again. 

Love, when it comes to you, has to be a one and done thing. He’s sincerely praying to whoever is watching over him that he never has to feel the terror of confessing to anyone else again. It just has to be you. 

That’s why he’s here, standing about as stiff as a marble statue as he pushes a shaky finger to your doorbell, drawing his hand back swiftly as if it burned him. In a spurt of unexplainable confidence, Suna had asked if you wanted to hang out on Saturday, conveniently leaving out the part where he desperately wished for it to be more than just a hang out.

Earlier that morning, he’d been so close to chickening out that his sister, of all people, angrily dragged him to the nearest grocery store with a scowl.

 “Don’t get her roses, it’s way too soon for that kind of flower!” She snapped, swatting Suna’s hand away from the bouquet.

“Daisies? Seriously? Are you a serious?”

It would be an utter lie if Suna did not admit that he had no idea what his sister was talking about. If love really is this complex, maybe he’s not the right person for it. Still, he finds himself lingering on the face you make when you laugh, the way you’re the first person that he never got sick of texting into the early hours of the morning, and how you’re the only person that could ever make him reconsider that puppy love and crushes might mean something more than he’d given them credit for.

After all, the way he felt for you is what people call love, isn’t it?

Suna grips the assorted bouquet of colorful flowers that his sister had deemed good enough, listening to the sound of your front door clicking open. He’s doomed, this is a bad idea, and yet it’s the only thing he wants to do. 

How’d you get to be so beautiful? Suna wonders that a lot, in fact, it makes him angry that you’d just waltzed into his life like you did. It’s absolutely unfair, he was a dead man before he could even put up a fight. Falling in love with you was unavoidable from the beginning, but he seems to be just okay with that. 

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, nonplussed by the bouquet in his hands, “Flowers for me?” You snicker, your laughter is probably the worst thing that could possibly happen right now, it makes everything ten times harder to do.

“Yeah, um-” Rintaro sputters, nervously darting his eyes around for the answer to your question. He knew the answer. You knew the answer.

Hastily, he holds it out for you to take, which you do without hesitation, “What’s the occasion?” 

Suna Rintaro knows two more things for certain: firstly, he’ll die if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, and secondly, you’re smart enough to have already surmised exactly what the occasion is. 

Everything his sister told him, advisories of “That’s too creepy!” and “Don’t be so blunt about it!” all fly to the back of his mind in exchange for the only things he can really manage to say. 

“Well,” Suna starts, cringing at the way his voice cracks, he knows this is about to be the world’s worst confession. 

“I, um, I got these for you because I think you’re really pretty,” you watch in bewilderment as his cheeks gradually saturate into a bright red, “but, that’s not just it!” Suna blurts, “You’re also really smart, and funny, and you’re probably the only person I could sit and talk to for hours without getting annoyed by-” Now, Suna is blatantly breaking the third piece of advice his sister had given him, don’t ramble.

“And, I really look forward to talking to you, even if it’s about boring stuff, I still want to hear you talk all day. Which, saying that out loud is really embarrassing for me, but, not because I’m embarrassed of you, I’m just embarrassed that I’m so-”

“Suna-” you interrupt, the cellophane wrap of the bouquet you held crackles as you lower it to see him better. You watch, partially in amusement, while the boy across from you struggles to comprehend everything he just said. 

Suna is done for when it comes to you, this was priorly understood, so why is it so hard to put it into words if it’s all he ever thinks about? “I like you a lot…is that okay?” He finally sighs, pale green eyes flickering up to search for a silent answer in the faltering of your expression. 

“That’s okay.” You nod, dumbfounded by the sudden declaration, each word was spoken with more confidence than anything you’ve ever heard him say before.

“Cool.” Suna nods dumbly.

“Cool.”