#also it's gonna rain a lot today

[salamispots]

gonna sacrifice this mola in the name of science and by science I mean try to do the binding 'die cut' instead of the whole thing being a square mfhgjf

[geminison]

as people say “everyone started running so I ran too” so here’s art summary of this (half a) year. lots of dishonored pieces as expected 👁️👁️

[zaggyzoo]

bad day all around 👎🏻

[raksh-writes]

I should be writing my thesis but Im feeling so lazy

[keeps-ache]

yay yippee yay :3 🎉

[todaysromano]

02.23.2024

Today, Romano got to relax and have fun.

[pieces-of-memories]

Hello! I notice you often blame yourself for getting the Rot, buy I'd like to argue! It was quite obviously intentional from someone outside, malicious or not. You had almost no way of predicting this little creature would be this dangerous to your whole system, and therefore didn't have the chance to know.

You cannot blame yourself for actions of someone else, who must've thought all iterators would prefer to be deactivated. Moreso, you found quite an incredible local solution for your problem and recovered at least part of your system! That is awesome)) Please, be more gentle on yourself?

[thethingything]

went downstairs and immediately saw a tiny moth. fuck yeah

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <3

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Ah thank fuck its overcast

[raeathnos]

.

[waloeders]

gm!! its raining here a lot but it sounds really nice in the hotel <3

[othercrossee]

the goodness of the day ended, its 11am

[luveline]

Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤

thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k

“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 

Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 

He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 

“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 

He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 

“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 

“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 

You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 

“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 

He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 

He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 

It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 

He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 

He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 

Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 

In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 

Today, right now, that’s crackers. 

“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 

“I’m back,” she agrees. 

“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 

“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 

Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 

He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 

“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 

Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 

He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 

“I’m just changing!” 

“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 

You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 

“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 

She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 

“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 

“Yes please, daddy.” 

Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  

“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 

“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 

Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 

“Yes, please,” Sarah says.

You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 

He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 

“Thanks, daddy.” 

You breathe in. 

Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 

“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 

Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 

“She did.” 

“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 

“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.

“She just loves you,” you say. 

“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 

You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 

You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 

He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 

Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 

“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 

“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 

Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 

He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 

“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 

“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 

“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 

“Big changes.” 

He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 

Your shoulders finally relax. 

[tmpestuous]

someone to stay

summary: bucky offers you solace as your mental fatigue rears its head.

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

warnings: angst, reader anxiety/depression, fluff, non-sexual nudity, a comforting buck <3

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this was inspired by my own issues right now because i definitely need it at the moment :’) 

Getting out of bed was always the most difficult part of your day. Even when you were feeling okay, even when nothing was immediately wrong. You would wake up and stare into the void, blankets smothering your body and eyelids still heavy from the bit of sleep you’d managed to get.

There wasn’t anything pressing your anxiety, but having been out of your routine for a few weeks always left you feeling unmotivated. After having been sidelined from missions for a multitude of reasons—injuries, mental stability, and a dwindling success rate—you had nothing to do. None of your side hobbies entertained you long enough to keep you busy, so you fell into the same cycle. You sometimes wished you could sleep all day or even just stay stagnant in bed, but you knew it’d only make the fatigue worse.

Today, however, was not one of those days where you pushed yourself out of bed. Not bothered to check the time, you closed your eyes again. It was raining outside anyways, the perfect weather to stay cuddled in bed for. Soon enough, you found some sleep again, even if you’d regret it later.

Bucky, who was not sidelined from missions, had just come back from one, more than eager to see you. He was back earlier than expected, so he only figured you wouldn’t be in your usual spot waiting for him in the hangar of the compound. It was a bit past noon, so he assumed you were keeping busy elsewhere.

After a quick debrief, he made it to your shared room, only to be led to confusion at the curtains still drawn and all of the lights off. He knew how much you hated sleeping in too late, only ever sleeping past 9 if you were really exhausted and/or hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. Even then, you never let it get past 11 before you were up and out of bed.

Bucky knew you were taking your suspension a bit rougher than expected. He hated seeing you upset and he was even willing to skip out on a few missions to stay with you, but you’d insisted otherwise, saying “the bad guys don’t take breaks.” 

He never liked leaving you. Most of your missions had the two of you together, SHIELD thinking you worked well together even outside of your relationship. Going on missions without you meant he was always stuck with some reckless, inexperienced agent who wasn’t half as skilled as you a lot of the time. It was why he only liked the ones where he was with Sam or Steve, at least not having to stress about saving anyone.

He missed you on every single one. Your quips, how satisfying it was to see you kick people’s asses, and how swiftly you did just about everything. But Bucky also knew you needed a break. Your anxiety was more rampant lately, and it was affecting all of your skills on the field. The decision to bench you didn’t come easy to anyone, but especially not you.

You honestly had little to no idea what had you so anxious to start with, but anything else that triggered your anxiety only amplified it. Bucky was so reluctant to let Steve suspend you, but after you got seriously injured on a mission for lack of attention, he couldn’t argue against it anymore.

“You can’t be serious,” you said to Steve, tears in your eyes. “I’ve been injured so many times, why does that even matter?”

“It’s not just the injury,” Steve countered. “You’ve been off your game. I can’t risk losing one of our best members because you’re distracted.”

“I’m not dis—”

“You being distracted is how you ended up with a broken arm and a head injury,” he cut you off, making you look away from him. “You’re gonna end up dead if you keep on like this. I can’t deal with that loss, and neither can Bucky.”

Snapping your gaze back at Steve, you scoffed.

“So this is about Bucky?”

“This is about you, Y/n,” Steve said, his tone slightly more irritated. “He begged me not to bench you, said you just needed some time but even he knows putting you on the field again is risking your life.”

Wiping your tears away, you said nothing in response. You knew he was right, but the last thing you needed was to give in. It’d make you crumble, it’d make this whole situation real and you knew where you’d end up. 

Your conversation ended when Bucky walked in the room.

It was the right decision after all. However, Bucky’s chest ached knowing how low you were feeling. Knowing that you were doing everything just to get by, yet nothing at all. He hadn’t seen you in a melancholy state for years, but it always scared him. He barely made it out of his own episodes sometimes, panic manifesting through his bones. His worry only worsened at the thought of not being able to pull you from the darkness, the way you’d done so for him many times. 

Seeing you under the sheets, sound asleep past noon didn’t settle Bucky’s own anxiety. He was out on this mission for eight days, but you’d sounded okay when you spoke to him over the phone every night. 

Were you not getting any sleep? Were you falling asleep really late? Or was your current funk really getting to you?

Bucky set his duffel bag on the floor, shutting the door behind him. He decided against opening the curtains until you were awake, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your sleeping body, placing his flesh hand on your cheek gently.

“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning down and kissing your forehead a few times. “Let me see those pretty eyes, doll.”

Furrowing your eyebrows before peeling your eyes open, you were greeted with your favorite super soldier, a smile creeping on your face.

“Hi,” you said groggily, Bucky kissing your forehead again. “You’re back early.”

“Got the job done quickly,” he fed your curiosity. “What are you still doing asleep, doll? Are you okay?”

“What time is it?” You said, still unmotivated to get up from your lying position. 

“Almost 1,” Bucky answered before your eyes widened and you sat up, frantic about how the morning got away from you. “Hey, hey,” Bucky placed his hands on your shoulder, easing the tension a bit. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with oversleeping once in a while.”

You shook your head, avoiding Bucky’s gaze as you rubbed your eyes. “I shouldn’t have slept that long.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then your cheek, then pulled your hands away from your eyes. The bags under them didn’t go without notice, Bucky getting more worried than earlier. He knew you weren’t sleeping well, and him not being here to soothe you must have made it worse.

“Is everything okay?” He asked again, never getting an answer from you.

You sighed. “I don’t really know, I’m just- I’m always tired and don’t wanna do anything even though I know I shouldn’t just stay in bed. I was gonna wake up early today to see if I could get moving but then I barely slept and thought a few more hours could be useful but now—”

“Shh,” Bucky said, pulling you into his embrace, rubbing your back softly. “There is still a lot of time left in the day, but I don’t mind sleeping this Sunday away with you after the mission I just had.” He kissed the top of your head a few times. “We can shower then eat and then rest. Sounds good?”

You nodded, with a muffled ‘okay’ into his chest before pulling away, Bucky standing and grasping your hand in his to head to the bathroom. 

Bucky turned the shower on, letting it run to get warm before turning back to you. After you helped Bucky take his tac suit off, he helped you shed your pajamas. The both of you took your underwear off, Bucky checking the water before you stepped in. 

You always enjoyed showering with Bucky, most after a mission when you were both tired. Though this was different since you weren’t the one coming home, the sentiment of being tired remained the same.

Bucky could tell you were tense, that something was still bothering you. He never wanted to pry, so he massaged the tension out of your shoulders, getting you to relax your posture a bit. You both worked your way around lathering each other with soap, your eyes doing their usual routine of scanning Bucky’s body for any cuts and bruises. Bucky decided to wash your hair, finding any means of making you feel relaxed. You sighed under his touch, leaning your head forward to rest against his chest as he rinsed your hair.

“Steve mentioned you going back on the field again,” Bucky eased into the conversation. “You feeling up for it?” Much to Bucky’s surprise, you shook your head, prompting him to lift your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You know you can talk to me.”

Sighing again, you leaned into his touch. “I’m not ready.”

“I thought you wanted to get back,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.

“I do,” you nodded. “But I just feel so… out of it. Like my mind is out of fuel and it’s putting my body on pause. I have no energy lately, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me.”

Bucky looked at you, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. He’d been there, where his body was craving one thing but his mind just never allowed him to satisfy any of his desires. Depression didn’t always look the same, but he could tell when it was starting to consume you.

The restless nights, the fatigue, the lack of energy and motivation. It was a stark contrast to your usual, productive self. Sometimes Bucky would have to slow you down for doing too many things at once, so it pained him to see you not want to do anything at all. 

He decided right then and there he’d take a pause from any missions until you were okay. Until he could see the spark in your eye again, the pep in your step. The energy being revitalized.

“It happens, baby,” he reassured. “You’ve helped me through some of my funks, so let me help you out of yours, hm?”

“You don’t have to, Bucky,” you shook your head, but he shushed you, a chaste kiss placed on your lips. “I’m serious, you don’t have to pause your life for me. People still need help and I’ll get out of my fatigue stint eventually, so—”

“You know you’re not gonna convince me otherwise, right?” He shut you up again, offering you a smirk and another peck to the lips. “I would drop everything for you. At any time, on any day, at any given moment. You are my world, doll. If you’re not okay, then my world isn’t okay.”

“But what if they really need you—”

“They won’t,” Bucky grabbed the comb to detangle your hair. “Now come on, let me help you ease your mind, hm?”

Knowing you couldn’t say no to him, you turned so your back was facing him, Bucky smoothly getting any knots out of your hair. 

He knew how much you loved it when he did your hair, knowing the process was super long and you didn’t want to do it half of the time. When he first heard you complain about having to do it, he made you teach him your whole routine for whenever you were feeling unmotivated to. It was one of many things he eagerly learned for you, always wanting to pamper you. 

Feeling a bit overwhelmed over the fact that you had him back, here with you as he did everything in his power to clear your head from the anxious thoughts, you couldn’t help but tear up. 

When he finished detangling your hair, holding it up with a clip, he saw you crying, quickly pulling you in his arms, kissing you everywhere he could. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Once he let you return the favor of washing his hair, you made him sit on the built-in bench in the shower so you wouldn’t have to reach up the whole time. 

Bucky loved touching you, but he swore to everything that he loved your touch even more. Your hands were so soft and gentle, with each lather and rinse of his head.

“Your hair’s getting long again,” you said, running your fingers through Bucky’s brown locks, the length now passing his ear. “Are you gonna cut it?”

Bucky shrugged, his hands finding comfort in your waist as you stood in front of him. He placed a kiss on each of your hips then your stomach before looking up at you.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered before standing, kissing your lips again. He knew how much you liked his short hair when he first cut it, but deep down you loved his long hair too. You just never forced him to keep one or the other, knowing how many memories his hair held.

Bucky loved how well you knew him, how well you understood him. It was the main reason why he took his time to do the same for you.

Once you were both out of the shower and dressed, Bucky picked up his phone to order some food. You’d told him you were craving Chinese the night before on your phone call while he was away, so he ordered all of your favorites as you finished drying your hair in the bathroom.

After eating dinner, Bucky slid under the covers of your shared bed, extending his metal arm for you to grab as you slid in next to him. Your head found its usual spot on his chest, both of his arms encasing you in the pressure you sought so many times, your left leg over his right one. 

“Thank you,” you said softly as Bucky rubbed your back just the way you liked it. “For never judging me.”

“I would never plan to,” he said, using his right hand to lift your chin up. “We’re human. We have our moments where we need a break, a reset. You taught me that when I needed to hear it. Don’t think that it excludes you, my love.”

Leaning up, you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss that said more than enough. 

Pulling away, you looked into those blue eyes that meant the world to you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Force yourself to do your hair routine every week,” Bucky joked, making you roll your eyes playfully with a smirk.

You pressed a kiss on his chest before laying your head on it again. “I love you.”

“I love you more, doll,” he said, massaging your scalp to soothe you until you fell asleep.

Bucky could watch you be this peaceful forever, vowing to spend the rest of his days making sure you were okay. He always knew you’d return the favor, enjoying every moment spent with you like this, comforted best in his arms.

[katiascraft]

"If nothing else gets you through. Then darling, i'll cry with you" | LN4

parings: Lando Norris x reader.

Summary: after the chaotic Brazilian GP, you know Lando is verygood at lying that he is alright and nothing can move him. But with you he can't pretend.

Now playing: "Cry with you" by Jeremy Zucker.

Word count: +1,2k.

Warnings: I think none. A few cursed words I guess and mentions of anxiety. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: so today was the shittiest day at the office y’all! I still feel like shit but I needed to write something about this. Why is Lando so hated??? You need to check yourselves!! Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

The Brazil GP it’s been the toughest so far. The Championship of drivers was also kind of defined. Of course Max was gonna win. He wasn't a three time world champion by luck. He is really one of the best drivers this sport has ever seen in history along with Senna, Prost, Lewis and Schumacher. But all of that indicated that your boyfriend was not gonna win the championship this year and that shuttered your heart.

You knew how hard Lando worked on that. All of the media attacked him. Social media twisting his words in a really cruel way. It was all too much noise and you perfectly knew how hard it was for him. How much anxiety he was handling and all of the pressure he was putting on himself. The pressure and illusion of the team to be back at the top after so many years decided it was gonna be Lando the one who did that. And that was a correct choice, lando was more than capable of winning the championship. But at some point it all happened so fast the pressure was descomunal.

You knew your boyfriend. You know how hard he’s worked all year. How much this all meant to him. You didn’t have holidays this year because he really wanted to fight. Train. And attack. Or at least that’s what he wanted to do.

You knew he was really good at pretending and playing it cool so people won’t ever know how much hurt his carrying. He could play the super hero indestructible for all the camaras. You won’t see him shattered right then and there. But you knew him too damn well to know he was broken. He hoped to be the winner. He dreamed about it his whole life. And this magical year was finally the one who gave him the chance to almost be it. This race was the hardest. It was luck and skills to the limit. A lot of crashes. The rain was irritating at one point. You almost didn't want to keep watching. When Lando got off track and went down to P6, you knew. He didn’t reply to any message through the radio. You cried, of course you did. You were on this as much as he was in it. You cried out of frustration. This year was a rollercoaster for you. You also dreamed of the day Lando won. You wanted that to happen even more than he wanted to. He deserved it. For how hard he works. How hard he is on himself when something out of his hands happens. Or when he made a mistake. How hard was all of that on his mental health. How obsessed he could get. And how that could send him into a spiral. You knew this was the best year at the same time it was the worst one.

When you watched him walk into the garage where you were. Your heart broke. Not because he was angry or even sad. He was playing it cool like it was not a big deal at all. So you knew how much pain he was handling.

Your eyes met after he talked to his engineers and mechanics. You were so sad this weekend. So good yet forgettable.

“Hey” he said walking to you and you just couldn’t help but dropped a few tears hugging him so tightly. You were squeezing him at some point. He let you do it. And rested his head on your neck. He fought the tears in his eyes so hard in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you. You are so strong Lando. So talented” you said now looking at him trying to repair something with your thoughts on him but knowing it won’t change anything. But you just wanted him to know he was all of that and the greatest person alive you knew. He kissed you gently.

“I love you y/n. Thank you for always supporting me” he said and gave you a kiss on the cheek giving you another hug. You didn’t say anything but hugged him tightly. After a few seconds another person joined and by the giggles he left out, you both knew it was Oscar. You two giggled a little. It was a family hug.

After that intimate little moment, the media had to be done so you had to say goodbye for a while.

(…)

After dinner with the papaya family you decided it was night in. Lando showered again because he said he had a headache. You haven’t talked about how he feels yet. You didn’t want to be invasive and more because this was a very sensitive topic to discuss. You knew he would eventually crack and talk to you. Like he always did.

You put on your pajamas and waited for him by just looking out the window at the city of São Paulo. After a few minutes la do was out. You turned to look at him. He was by his luggage wearing only a towel looking for a boxer and T-shirt. You could see his whole back. He took off the towel and put the clothes on. You looked to the bed and climbed in it waiting for him. You analyzed him one more time while he got cozy on the bed with you.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m okay babe” he said, like reading your mind. You gave him a half smile.

“You sure? We can talk about it baby” you said softly and got closer to him so you could stroke his hair sweetly. He looked at you and nodded. But then his eyes were full of tears so he denied. Your heart sinks. “Come here my love” you said, bringing me to your chest and hugging him in a way for him to find comfort somehow. He hugged you and hid his face in your neck so you couldn’t see him. “It’s okay baby. I know it was q fucking shitty day at the office. I know how much you wanted it. And you deserve it still, baby. But life is sometimes a bitch you know? I mean the alpines got the podium” you said trying to make him feel better. He was still crying and all you could read was he tigherter his grip. “Sometimes life is a bitch to the people that don't deserve it. Amazing people who are good and so no harm but somehow get the harder life mode now and then. This makes you stronger, Lando. I know next years gonna be. You will do it. Because you can and because you want to. And that more than enough because talent you already have babe” he moved a little under your hug. You heard him giggle a little. That makes you smile a little too.

You stoked his curls gently and kissed his forehead.

“I love you and admire you so fucking much. You deserve the world and I know you will eventually get it” you told him now looking into his eyes holding his face between your hands. His face was wet and his eyes teary. Seeing him like this broke your heart in so Many pieces. But you knew he was gonna be okay. He was gonna be world champion one day.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you” he said with a shaky voice and you gave him a little kiss.

“You just did you landinho” you said sweetly making him smile and you gave him another million kisses.

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