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inasimad7 · 3 days ago
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📢Very urgent.!
🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨
My name is Inas Imad, from Gaza, and I am 30 year old wife and first time expecting mother living in the most unimaginable and dire circumstances for over a year now. Three years ago I married my best friend and have struggled trying to start a family. Even after this war began, my husband and I did not lose hope in starting our family and we continued in determination to live and to bring new life into this world. I am now currently pregnant with our first child, however due to the consequences of this war, I am faced with a high risk, dangerous pregnancy according to the doctor and I am very afraid that if I do not get get adequate nutrition, the medications, and supplies that I need, I will lose my child. The doctor has ordered medication to be given by injection throughout my pregnancy to help me carry my baby to term, however I do not have the money to purchase the medication and syringes needed, nor do we have the money to purchase adequate nutrition. Life here in Gaza is very difficult and we become more hopeless by the day. My husband and I had just started to build our lives together. We had a nice home where we had planned to start our family, and now we are subjected to living in a tent where there is no bathroom and we spend our nights just trying to get warm. It has been difficult being pregnant and not having a bathroom or even a bed to sleep on, but I want my child more than anything. The only hope we have left is in our baby and I am asking you to stand with us. Please, help us in any way you can to save our child. We feel very alone and abandoned, but we are determined to live and we want to see our child be one of the miracles that comes out of Gaza. Any amount you can donate, no matter how small, means the world to us. We will never forget you standing with us. Please, help me to evacuate from Gaza so that I can see my dream of being a mother and bringing my beautiful baby into this world to make it a better place and helping my husband and I be able to watch our child grow up. We will be forever grateful to you.
Please you are hope for me!
Don't make me lose hope.!
He is my first child.!😭😭😭
How You Can Help:
I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $10 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.!
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✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #425 )✅️
Campaign link🔗⬇️
@90-ghost @nabulsi @feluka @awomanofsomeimportance @watermotif @sayruq @sar-soor @palipunk-blog @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @buttercupsticksntricks @gothhabiba @khangkhaiki-blog @neptunerings @malcriaada @apagou @dykesbat @dykesbat @gazagfmboost @palhelp @kibumkim @transmutationdice @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @victoriaw @rhubarbspring @rainy-fog @captainsaltymuyfancy2 @i-dream-of-alcremie @mayoiayasep @northgazaupdates2
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dreamauri · 3 days ago
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♪ — 𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 max verstappen x fem! girlfriend! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . Max Verstappen has a habit of never letting go—literally. Whether it’s galas, lazy days on yachts, or even a quick grocery run, his hand is always in yours ( 1k words )
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( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )
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Max Verstappen had always been confident, composed, and annoyingly good at everything he did. But when it came to you? Oh, Max had one tiny quirk that you couldn’t help but notice. He never—ever—let go of your hand.
At first, it was sweet. Cute even. A little handhold in the paddock, fingers brushing together as you walked to the grid. But now? It was everywhere. Grocery shopping? Hand in hand. Movie nights? His fingers laced with yours under the blanket. Brushing your teeth? He'd stand there, holding your hand, toothpaste dribbling down your chin because you were laughing too hard.
Even now, as you sat on the couch, trying to scroll through your phone, Max sat beside you, one hand holding yours tightly while his other absentmindedly flicked through TV channels.
“Max,” you teased, wiggling your fingers in his grip, “you know I’m not going to disappear, right?”
He didn’t even glance up. “I know. But why risk it?”
You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. It wasn’t that you minded—it was just amusing how attached he’d become.
“Do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen?” you asked, attempting to pull your hand free.
“Nope.” His grip tightened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if to say nice try.
“Okay, but I can’t exactly carry snacks and drinks with one hand.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Max—”
He was already up, your hand still in his as he followed you into the kitchen. You made a point of bumping him with the fridge door as you opened it, but his grin was nothing short of smug.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Bedtime was another ordeal entirely. Max seemed to think the best way to sleep was to intertwine himself with you like a human pretzel. Tonight was no different.
As you shifted to get comfortable, Max’s hand found yours under the covers. His arm draped lazily over your waist, pulling you closer.
“Max, I’m overheating,” you groaned, trying to wiggle away.
He only hummed in response, his lips brushing your temple. “You’re fine.”
“No, really, I might combust—”
“Shh, I’m comfy.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, giving up the fight. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it.”
You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hand in return. “Maybe.”
The next morning, you woke to find Max already up, scrolling through his phone with your hand still in his.
“How do you do that?” you muttered groggily.
“Do what?”
“Never let go, even in your sleep.”
He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Practice.”
You couldn’t even be annoyed—it was too cute. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.”
“Adorable?” he echoed with mock offense. “I’m the reigning world champion, liefje. I’m not adorable.”
“Sure, sure,” you teased, tugging on his hand. “But I know the truth.”
And as he grinned down at you, still holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, you decided you wouldn’t have it any other way.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The gala was every bit as glamorous as you’d imagined—long, flowing dresses, sharp tuxedos, and enough champagne to fill a swimming pool. Max, as usual, looked effortlessly handsome in his tailored suit, but his accessory of choice wasn’t the Rolex on his wrist. No, it was you. Specifically, your hand.
He had barely let go of you since you stepped onto the red carpet. Even when you stopped to take photos, Max’s fingers stayed firmly entwined with yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles as if reassuring himself that you were still there.
“Max,” you whispered as you reached your table, smiling politely at the other guests. “You can let go now.”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Why? You planning to run away?”
“No, but I might need both hands to eat,” you teased, holding up your clutch in your free hand for emphasis.
He sighed dramatically but let go—only to place his hand on your thigh the second you both sat down. You shot him a look, and he grinned unapologetically.
Throughout the night, Max found creative ways to keep touching you. Whether it was holding your hand during conversations, tucking your arm into his while you walked around, or resting his palm on the small of your back when you stepped away for a drink—he was relentless.
By the time dessert was served, you leaned over to him, your voice low. “You know, you’re setting a high bar for clingy boyfriends everywhere.”
“Good,” he replied, kissing your temple. “They should all know how it’s done.”
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
You weren’t sure who had come up with the brilliant idea to spend the day on a yacht, but it turned out to be the perfect way to beat the heat. The Mediterranean sun was shining, the water was crystal clear, and your group of friends was already laughing and diving into the waves.
Max, of course, had other priorities.
“Come on,” you called over your shoulder as you made your way to the edge of the boat, a grin on your face. “The water’s amazing!”
“Wait,” Max said, reaching for your hand.
“Max,” you laughed, spinning around to face him. “I’m not going to drown. You don’t have to hold my hand for this.”
He looked at you, completely serious. “What if you slip? Or hit your head? Or—”
“Max,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you’re coming in right after me, right?”
“Obviously.”
“Then let go so I can jump!”
Reluctantly, he released your hand, but not without muttering, “Two seconds. I’ll be right behind you.”
True to his word, Max was in the water less than five seconds after you hit it, his strong arms wrapping around you the moment he surfaced.
“See?” you teased, water dripping down your face as you pushed his wet hair back. “I’m fine.”
“Better safe than sorry,” he said, holding you close.
When you both climbed back onto the yacht, Max dried off quickly before grabbing your hand again, guiding you to a sun lounger. You didn’t even bother fighting him anymore.
“You know,” your friend quipped, grinning at the sight of Max’s fingers intertwined with yours, “it’s like he thinks you’re going to float away if he doesn’t hold on.”
Max looked up, completely unbothered. “You’re not wrong.”
You laughed, leaning into him as he kissed your temple again. “Well, at least I’ll never get lost.”
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julietsf1 · 2 days ago
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The Idiot I Call Mine - Lando Norris x BestFriend! Reader
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summary: best friends are supposed to share laughs, inside jokes, fries and the occasional late-night drive. what they’re not supposed to do is flirt like it’s a competitive sport or make you question every unspoken rule of friendship. at least, unless your name is Lando Norris apparently. (7.1k words)
content: fluff! friends to lovers; flirty dynamic; mutual pining
an: whaaat? a fic about another driver? yes loves. this is me coming forward as a secret Lando fan. I hope you'll enjoy as much as I did writing this :)
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Lando Norris has this annoying habit of always being right. It’s not even about anything important—it’s just little things. Like the time he guessed exactly how long it would take before I caved and ordered dessert, or when he said I’d end up watching a rom-com tonight even though I claimed I wanted “something deep and meaningful.”
“See?” he said smugly, leaning back on the couch as the opening credits of The Holiday  played. “I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Hardly,” I shot back, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “You just know I have a weak spot for Jude Law. That doesn’t make you psychic.”
“No, but it does make me an excellent best friend.” He winked, plucking the popcorn off his lap and popping it into his mouth like the show-off he was.
I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn’t fighting a grin. Lando and I had been inseparable for years, the kind of best friends who finished each other’s sentences and shared a borderline unhealthy obsession with late-night McDonald’s runs. But lately, something had been… different.
Not bad, exactly. Just different. Maybe? I wasn’t even sure to be honest. 
“You’re staring again,” Lando said, breaking into my thoughts. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest in a way that felt entirely too casual and yet completely deliberate. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and his smirk was the kind that could make even the most confident person question their sanity.
“I wasn’t staring,” I lied, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in my mouth for good measure.
“You were absolutely staring,” he teased, leaning closer. “What’s on your mind, hmm? Thinking about how devastatingly handsome I am? It’s okay—you can admit it.”
“You’re such a joke,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed but failing miserably. “Devastatingly handsome? Please. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”
“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin. “And yet, here you are, spending your Friday night with me. Interesting choice.”
“I’m here for the popcorn,” I deadpanned, though even I didn’t believe myself. “And because you begged me.”
“I didn’t beg,” he protested. “I suggested strongly. There’s a difference.”
This was us—lighthearted insults, jokes at each other’s expense, and an ease in our conversations that felt like home. If there was something different lately, I told myself it was just my imagination running wild. 
“Speaking of choices,” I said, leaning back against the couch. “What’s the deal with you and your phone wallpaper?”
“What about it?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“Oh, come on, Lando,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You really expect me to believe you just happened to pick a picture of me for your wallpaper?”
“It’s a great photo,” he said with a shrug. “You look happy. And let’s not pretend your wallpaper isn’t me.”
I froze, caught. He was right—my wallpaper was him, but that wasn’t the point.
“That’s different,” I said quickly. “You look stupid in yours. It’s funny.”
“Ah, so I’m your personal clown now?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock offense. “Good to know my humiliation brings you joy.”
“Always,” I said sweetly, tossing another piece of popcorn his way.
The movie played on in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. We were too busy pushing each other’s buttons, like always.
“Hey,” Lando said after a while, his tone a little softer. “You’re coming to dinner at Mum’s next weekend, right?”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not really,” he said with a grin. “She’s already planning the menu. Something with pasta, probably. You know how she gets when you’re coming over.”
I smiled despite myself. His family had always treated me like one of their own, and his mum had a knack for making me feel special in ways that were both comforting and overwhelming.
“Well, in that case,” I said, pretending to think it over. “I guess I can clear my schedule.”
“Good,” he said, nudging me with his elbow. “I’d be bored without you there.”
It was moments like this—simple and familiar—that stuck with me longer than they should. The way he said things so casually, as if they didn’t carry any weight, even when they somehow did. 
“You’ve got something on your face,” I said suddenly, trying to distract myself.
“Where?” he asked, leaning closer.
“Right there,” I said, tapping the corner of my mouth.
He smirked, deliberately licking the spot where I’d pointed. “Better?”
“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” I said, shoving him away. But I was laughing, and so was he.
“You love it,” he said, and for once, I didn’t argue. Because maybe I did.
As the night went on, the teasing continued, each remark more loaded than the last. By the time the credits rolled, I wasn’t sure if it was the movie or Lando’s lingering glances that had me feeling so off-kilter.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he said, breaking the silence as he stood to clean up the popcorn bowl. “Something on your mind?”
“Just thinking,” I said vaguely, not meeting his gaze.
“About?” he pressed, leaning against the counter with a smirk that said he already knew the answer.
“Nothing important,” I said, grabbing my phone and pretending to scroll.
“Liar,” he said, his voice playful but probing. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know that?”
I glanced up at him, my heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it had been doing lately. He was standing there like he had all the time in the world, his green eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
“Goodnight, Lando,” I said finally, brushing past him on my way to the couch.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.
“You know, for someone who claims to be an athlete, you spend an alarming amount of time eating,” I said, glancing at Lando over the top of my menu.
“Carbs are fuel,” he replied, flashing me a grin. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand that we could’ve gone somewhere normal instead of whatever this place is,” I said, gesturing to the overly fancy restaurant. The kind of place where the wine glasses sparkled brighter than the chandeliers, and the menu was full of words I couldn’t pronounce.
“You’re so ungrateful,” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how hard it was to get a table here? I had to name-drop myself.”
“Wow,” I said dryly. “The struggle.”
“Exactly. And now you’re here, about to enjoy the finest pasta in town, thanks to me. A little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”
“Gratitude? You dragged me here under false pretenses. You said this was a ‘low-key spot.’”
“It is low-key,” he argued, gesturing around. “For Monte Carlo standards.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto my face. This was just how things were with Lando—effortless, easy, and borderline ridiculous.
“Alright, what are you getting?” Lando asked, lowering his menu.
“Fettuccine Alfredo,” I said without hesitation.
“Of course you are,” he said, smirking. “Predictable.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I shot back. “What are you getting, then? Something groundbreaking? Life-changing? Revolutionary?��
“Tagliatelle al tartufo,” he said with a mockingly posh accent.
“Wow,” I said, feigning awe. “Truffle pasta. You’re really pushing the boundaries, Norris.”
“Don’t be jealous just because I have sophisticated taste,” he replied, the smirk never leaving his face.
“‘Sophisticated’ is one way to put it,” I muttered, pretending to study the menu again. “Another is ‘pretentious.’”
“You’ll be begging for a bite,” he said confidently, setting the menu down.
“Please,” I said, scoffing. “You’ll be stealing mine before the plates even hit the table.”
He leaned forward, his grin widening. “You know me so well.”
The food arrived soon after, and, as predicted, we switched plates halfway through without even discussing it. It was second nature by now, like so many other things about us.
“You know,” Lando said, twirling a forkful of fettuccine, “if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out, I could be a food critic.”
“Sure,” I said, deadpan. “Because people are dying to know what Lando Norris thinks about pasta.”
“They would be,” he said, undeterred. “My palate is unparalleled.”
“Your palate consists of pizza, chicken nuggets, and whatever I’m eating,” I shot back.
“And yet, here we are,” he said, gesturing to the table. “Me, enjoying this culinary masterpiece, and you, enjoying my company. Life is good.”
It was shaping up to be another night of easy conversation and mindless teasing until a voice interrupted us.
“Lando?”
I looked up to see two women standing at the edge of our table. They were both tall, blonde, and effortlessly elegant, the kind of women who looked like they belonged in a magazine spread rather than real life.
“Oh, hey!” Lando said, his face lighting up in recognition.
I glanced at him, watching as his entire demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He straightened up, his grin widening just enough to make my stomach twist.
“We haven’t seen you in forever,” one of the women said, her smile bright and practiced.
“I know,” Lando said, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “It’s been a while.”
“You look great,” one of them said, her smile bright as she leaned in a little too close.
“So do you,” Lando replied, his tone polite but just warm enough to make me suddenly very interested in my water glass. The conversation floated around me, full of laughter and inside jokes I didn’t understand.
“And who’s this?” one of them finally asked, her gaze flicking to me with polite curiosity.
“This is Y/N,” Lando said, gesturing toward me with a casualness that felt too deliberate. “My best friend.”
Best friend. There it was again.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
“Likewise,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant.
They didn’t linger much longer—just enough to leave their mark before excusing themselves with a wave and a promise to “catch up soon.”
“Old friends of yours?” I asked once they were gone, my voice light but with a slight edge.
“Something like that,” Lando said, taking a sip of his water.
“Something like that?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged, his smirk returning. “They’re sisters. I, uh… may have had a thing with both of them. At different times, obviously.”
My fork froze midair. “Both of them?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, laughing. “It’s not that weird.”
“It’s incredibly weird,” I said, shaking my head.
“I mean, it didn’t overlap or anything,” he added, as if that somehow made it better. “But yeah… sisters.”
I stared at him, equal parts amused and horrified. “That’s… impressive? I guess?”
“Thank you,” he said, grinning like he’d just been handed an award. “Think I should call them again?”
“Sure,” I forced a laugh, stabbing at my pasta. “And then ask if they have any other sisters you might’ve missed.”
He chuckled, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in my tone. “Good idea. Always room for a hat trick.”
My stomach churned uncomfortably, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I focused on my plate, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way my mood had shifted.
The paddock was its usual chaotic self—teams rushing to prepare for practice sessions, fans peering over barriers for a glimpse of their favorite drivers, and media personnel darting between interviews. I decided to escape the madness for a bit, heading toward the staff catering building for a much-needed coffee.
The line was mercifully short, but as I joined it, I noticed someone already waiting near the front. Tall, dark-haired, and wearing a Ferrari polo with his name—Marco—stitched neatly on the chest. He turned slightly, catching my eye and offering a polite smile.
“Busy morning?” he asked, his tone warm and conversational.
“Something like that,” I replied with a small smile. “You?”
“Always,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But coffee makes it manageable, no?”
I nodded. “A universal truth.”
Marco stepped aside to let me order, a gesture so casual it almost went unnoticed. As I gave my order to the barista, I felt him glance at me again—not invasive, just curious.
“So, not Ferrari,” he said after I stepped back to wait for my coffee.
“Is it that obvious?” I joked.
“A little,” he admitted, his grin widening. “You’re far too relaxed to be one of us.”
“Should I be offended or flattered?” I asked, tilting my head playfully.
“Flattered,” he said easily. “Relaxed is a good thing.”
We fell into an easy rhythm as we waited. Marco was effortlessly charming, asking questions without prying and tossing in a few self-deprecating remarks about Ferrari’s chaos.
“You’re here with a team?” he asked eventually.
“A friend,” I said vaguely.
“Lucky friend,” he said, his tone light but genuine.
I laughed softly. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
Marco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation.
“There you are.”
I turned to see Lando approaching, his expression relaxed but his eyes sharper than usual.
“Hey,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were doing media.”
“Finished early,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flicked briefly to Marco, who stood quietly by my side. “And I figured I’d find you here.”
“Good instincts,” I said lightly, though something about his sudden appearance felt… deliberate.
Marco offered his hand to Lando, ever polite. “Marco. Ferrari engineering.”
“Lando,” he replied, shaking his hand. “McLaren driving.”
Marco chuckled. “I know who you are. Good to meet you.”
“You too,” Lando said, his tone friendly but with an edge I couldn’t quite place.
The barista called my name, and I turned to grab my coffee, giving them a moment to exchange polite words. By the time I returned, Marco was stepping away with his own drink.
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, offering me a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.
Lando watched him go before turning back to me. “Who was that?”
“Marco,” I said simply.
“And what was Marco talking to you about?” he asked, his tone too casual to be entirely innocent.
I raised an eyebrow. “Coffee, mostly. Why?”
“No reason,” he said quickly, taking a sip of my drink.
I studied him for a moment, noting the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “You’re acting weird.”
“I’m not acting weird,” he said defensively.
“You’re definitely acting weird.”
Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely baffled.
“He was flirting,” Lando said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I blinked. “He was being nice.”
“Nice,” Lando repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”
“Lando, he’s just a guy who works for Ferrari,” I said, shaking my head.
“Exactly,” he said, as if that proved his point.
There was a beat of silence as I processed his words.
“You sound jealous,” I said finally, testing the waters.
“Jealous?” he scoffed, though the flicker of something in his eyes gave him away. “Hardly. I just think you can do way better than some guy who chats you up in the coffee line.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” he asked, smirking now.
“Yes,” I said firmly, though the warmth in my chest betrayed me.
We walked back toward the McLaren garage, his mood lightening with every step. By the time we arrived, he was back to his usual self—chatting with the mechanics and laughing at some joke I’d already missed.
But his words stayed with me, replaying in my mind as I sat down with my coffee. My coffee which Lando had somehow already drank half of. 
The McLaren lounge was a rare oasis of calm in the chaos of a race weekend. Engineers hustled past the windows, radios crackled with updates, and somewhere in the distance, an engine roared to life. But in here, it was all plush couches, soft lighting, and a distinct lack of urgency.
I was curled up on one end of the couch, flipping through a magazine, while Oscar and Lando lounged on the other side. Lando, as usual, couldn’t sit still. He was draped sideways over the armrest, absently spinning a water bottle in his hands.
“Alright,” Lando announced, breaking the comfortable silence. “Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?”
I looked up from my magazine, narrowing my eyes. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“It’s an important question,” he insisted, his grin wide and mischievous.
I pretended to ponder for a moment. “One horse-sized duck. Definitely.”
Lando gaped at me like I’d just declared something outrageous. “Terrible answer. Absolutely terrible.”
“It’s the smart answer,” I shot back, sitting up straighter. “You outmaneuver one big target instead of exhausting yourself trying to wrangle a hundred tiny ones.”
“Do you even know how terrifying a horse-sized duck would be?” Lando asked, his voice rising in mock disbelief.
“And do you know how terrifying a hundred duck-sized horses would be?” I countered, raising an eyebrow.
Lando leaned forward, his grin widening. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me you’d rather face one giant, angry duck with a wingspan bigger than this couch?”
“Absolutely,” I said confidently. “Ducks aren’t that scary.”
“They can bite, you know,” he shot back, gesturing dramatically. “One snap, and you’re done for.”
I smirked, leaning closer. “I think I’d survive. Besides, I have a secret weapon.”
“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing playfully.
“You,” I said, deadpan. “I’ll just toss you in its path and run.”
Lando gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Wow. That’s cold, Y/N. I thought we were a team.”
“We are,” I said, grinning. “But only if you pick the right answer next time.”
For a moment, he was quiet, his grin faltering just slightly as he met my gaze. It wasn’t much, just a flicker of something softer beneath the banter. But it was enough to make my stomach do that annoying little flip I’d been trying to ignore.
“Lando,” Oscar interjected, his tone casual but pointed. “You’re staring.”
“I am not,” Lando said quickly, his ears turning the faintest shade of pink as he looked away.
“You are,” Oscar said, leaning back with a smirk.
“You’re imagining things,” Lando muttered, crossing his arms.
Oscar snorted but didn’t press the issue, instead grabbing his phone and scrolling through it idly. But the look he shot Lando wasn’t lost on me—or Lando, for that matter.
As the banter settled into silence, I decided to grab a drink from the catering area, leaving the two of them alone.
The moment the door swung shut behind me, Oscar struck. “Mate, you’re not exactly subtle, you know.”
“About what?” Lando asked, feigning innocence as he fidgeted with the water bottle.
Oscar didn’t even look up from his phone. “About Y/N.”
“What about her?”
Oscar set his phone down, leveling Lando with a knowing look. “You’re acting like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”
Lando scoffed, though the tips of his ears betrayed him again. “That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.”
“Sure,” Oscar said, dragging out the word like he was savoring it. “That’s why you light up like a Christmas tree whenever she walks in the room.”
“I do not,” Lando said defensively, but his voice lacked conviction.
“You do,” Oscar replied, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “Mate, you’re glaring holes into the back of her head every time she talks to someone else. And don’t even get me started on how you were watching her during the duck-and-horse debate like she’d just solved world peace.”
“That’s—” Lando started, then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”
“Right,” Oscar said, his smirk firmly in place. “It’s exactly like that, but go off.”
Lando opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s… we’ve known each other forever. It’s Y/N.”
Oscar nodded, as if that made sense, but his smirk didn’t waver. “Don’t you think it would be time to change that soon? You two are exhausting.”
Lando shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it.
“I’m just saying,” Oscar said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re completely gone for her. Admit it already.”
Lando groaned, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through his hair. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
“Yeah,” Oscar said, grinning now. “But I’m right.”
Lando didn’t respond, his gaze drifting to the door where I’d just left. And for the first time, he let himself wonder if maybe—just maybe—Oscar was onto something.
The moment we walked into George’s celebration, the energy hit like a wave. The room was packed with familiar faces—drivers, engineers, and friends—dressed to the nines in that effortless way people in motorsport always seemed to manage. String lights twinkled across the ceiling, soft jazz played over the speakers, and a steady hum of conversation filled the air.
“You’re going to owe me for this,” I teased, glancing at Lando. “Dragging me here after wasting twenty minutes deciding between two identical shirts.”
“They weren’t identical,” Lando replied with a roll of his eyes, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we weaved through the crowd. “One had a darker stitch.”
“Completely life-changing,” I said dryly, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.
“See? You get it,” he shot back with a grin, steering us toward a booth near the bar.
The way his hand lingered, warm and steady, was something I tried not to think too much about. It was just Lando being Lando—playful, touchy, and completely oblivious to the little flips my stomach insisted on doing whenever he leaned too close.
We found our way to a booth not far from the bar, where Alexandra and Charles were already seated. Charles was gesturing animatedly about something, while Alexandra sat with her usual poised grace, sipping champagne. When she saw us, her face lit up.
“Enfin, vous êtes là !” Alexandra exclaimed, waving us over. (Finally, you’re here!)
“Lando a changé de chemise trois fois,” I replied, throwing him a look. (Lando changed his shirt three times.)
Charles chuckled, leaning back with a smirk. “Toujours dramatique, hein ?” (Always dramatic, huh?)
“English,” Lando whined as we slid into the booth. “You’re ganging up on me in French. It’s not fair.”
“Pauvre bébé,” I teased, patting his arm lightly. (Poor baby.)
“Whatever that means,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t upset.
The conversation flowed easily between the four of us. Lando, of course, dominated the chatter, weaving an elaborate story about George’s awkward rookie days. His expressions were so animated, his gestures so over-the-top, that even Charles—usually the calm and composed one—was cracking up by the end.
“That’s not true,” I said, nudging Lando with my elbow. “You’re exaggerating again.”
“I’m not!” he protested, his green eyes wide with mock innocence. “It’s all true. Every word.”
“Sure it is,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Back me up here!” he said, turning to Charles.
Charles raised a brow, taking a deliberate sip of his drink. “I wasn’t there, but… I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Alexandra laughed softly, glancing at me. “Toujours l’acteur dramatique, ce Lando.” (Always the drama actor, that Lando.)
“Hey,” Lando said, pointing at her. “I know that wasn’t a compliment.”
I smirked, leaning closer. “It absolutely wasn’t.”
He gasped dramatically, his hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my own friends. I’ll never recover.”
“You’ll survive,” I said, brushing him off, though the warmth in his gaze lingered just a beat too long.
Lando eventually excused himself to grab drinks, leaving me to chat with Alexandra and Charles. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alexandra leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Il est tellement évident qu’il a un faible pour toi,” she said softly, her voice full of amusement. (It’s so obvious he has a thing for you.)
“Quoi?” I asked, my cheeks heating instantly. (What?)
“Ouvre les yeux,” she said, smirking. (Open your eyes.)
Charles chuckled, sipping his drink as he watched the exchange. “C’est écrit partout sur son visage.” (It’s written all over his face.)
“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re imagining things.”
Alexandra raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, her expression saying everything her words didn’t.
At the bar, Lando was cornered by Carlos, who leaned casually against the counter, his expression smug. 
“You know,” Carlos said, his tone casual, “you’re not very subtle.”
“What are you talking about?” Lando asked, though his focus kept drifting toward the booth where I was sitting.
Carlos raised his drink, gesturing toward me. “You’ve been staring at her all night, hermano. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”
Lando stiffened, his grin faltering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Just tell her,” Carlos said, swirling his drink lazily.
“It’s not that simple,” Lando replied, his voice quieter now.
Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because if I mess this up, I lose her,” Lando admitted, glancing toward our booth.
Carlos tilted his head, studying him. “You’re scared. That’s what this is.”
“Of course I’m scared,” Lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s my best friend. If it doesn’t work—”
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Carlos interrupted, his voice softer now. “But you’d better do something soon.”
Carlos’s smirk softened slightly, but before Lando could reply, Liam Lawson appeared at the bar.
“Who’s the girl with Charles and Alexandra?” Liam asked, nodding toward the booth. “She single?”
Carlos grinned mischievously. “Yeah, she is—go for it.”
Lando’s head snapped toward Carlos, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Carlos.”
“What?” Carlos said, feigning innocence. “Just giving the kid a shot.”
Liam approached with the kind of confidence that only a Red Bull driver could pull off.
“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me. “You’re Y/N, right?”
I blinked, momentarily surprised but recovering quickly. “That’s me. And you are?”
“Liam Lawson,” he said, extending a hand.
I shook it, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Nice to meet you.”
“How do you know George?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world.
“Through Lando,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but measured. His easy demeanor was almost disarming, but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me hyper-aware of my surroundings.
“Ah, Lando,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Lucky guy. You two seem pretty close.”
“We’ve been friends for a long time,” I said simply, taking a sip of my drink and trying not to overthink his comment.
“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “his loss if he hasn’t made a move yet.”
That caught me off guard. My gaze flicked to his, searching for any hint of a joke, but he was entirely serious—or at least good at pretending to be.
“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice betraying my surprise.
Liam grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying. If I were him, I wouldn’t be sitting over there, letting someone else steal your attention.”
The comment was bold, and I didn’t quite know how to respond. My thoughts were a mess of confusion, flattery, and something else I didn’t want to name. Before I could formulate a response, the familiar sound of Lando’s voice cut through the air.
“Liam,” he said smoothly, stepping up to the table. His tone was calm, but his green eyes held a sharpness that made me sit up a little straighter.
Liam glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
“Christian’s looking for you,” Lando said, his tone casual but firm. “Something about debrief notes.”
Liam frowned, clearly reluctant. “Now?”
“Yeah,” Lando said, nodding. “He seemed pretty keen.”
Liam hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and Lando like he was weighing his options. Finally, he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. “Alright. Nice meeting you, Y/N.”
“You too,” I replied, watching him leave with a mixture of relief and something I couldn’t quite pin down.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Lando lingered for a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he avoided my gaze.
“That,” Charles said, his tone thick with amusement, “was the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Lando shot him a glare, his ears turning faintly red. “Mind your own business, Charles.”
Charles just smirked, raising his glass in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”
I didn’t say anything, but a flicker of suspicion settled in the back of my mind.
Had Lando just…? No. That would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?
“Let’s get a drink,” Alexandra said, pulling me to my feet.
As Alexandra and I made our way back toward the booth, she nudged me gently, her eyes glinting with curiosity.
“Lando looked like he was about to breathe fire earlier,” she said casually, sipping her drink.
I laughed softly, trying to deflect. “He’s always protective. It’s nothing.”
“Protective?” Alexandra repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That was not protective, chérie. That was jealousy.”
I opened my mouth to respond but stopped short as we neared the booth, Lando and Charles’s voices filtering through the hum of the room.
“It will just be awkward, mate,” Lando said, his tone low and almost resigned.
“Just talk about it,” Charles replied simply.
“It’s not that simple,” Lando muttered. “She will never be more than just a friend.”
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My chest tightened, and the air around me seemed to still. Alexandra’s hand touched my arm gently, but I barely noticed.
“I— I need some air,” I managed, turning away before she could respond.
The ache in my chest grew with every step I took, his words echoing in my head.
She will never be more than just a friend.
And just like that, everything I thought I’d imagined felt painfully real.
I turned my phone face down on the table at Gigi’s, willing myself not to glance at the screen again. The missed calls from Lando were piling up, his name lighting up my notifications every half hour like clockwork. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him—I did. But every time I thought about his voice, his laugh, his damn words, the ache in my chest tightened.
She will never be more than just a friend.
I shook my head, forcing the thought away as the waiter arrived with my order. The smell of rich, cheesy pasta wafted up, comforting in the way only food could be. I twirled a forkful absentmindedly, hoping the carbs would somehow fill the space that had been hollowed out the night before.
The familiar growl of an engine outside pulled my attention from my plate. I glanced toward the window and froze.
The unmistakable silhouette of Lando’s Miura parked just outside, sleek and shining even under the soft glow of streetlights. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was, stepping out effortless as usual—but his expression wasn’t the easygoing grin I was used to. He looked… worried.
Before I could decide what to do, he spotted me through the window, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He pushed through the door, his eyes locking onto mine immediately.
“There you are,” he said, relief evident in his tone as he approached my table.
I blinked, caught off guard. “Lando? What are you doing here?”
He pulled out the chair across from me, sitting down without asking. “Looking for you.”
My heart twisted. “Why?”
“Because you’ve been ignoring me all day,” he said, his voice quieter now.
I looked away, focusing on my fork. “I had my phone off that’s all.”
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
“I knew I’d find you here,” he said finally, his voice softer but steady.
I glanced up, frowning. “What?”
“You always turn to cheesy Italian food when you’re upset,” he said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s your thing.”
The casual observation caught me off guard, a mix of warmth and frustration bubbling in my chest.
“So what?” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “You’re some kind of expert on me now?”
He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Y/N, I know you better than anyone. And I know something’s wrong.”
I didn’t answer, twisting my fork in the pasta and pretending to be engrossed in my meal. But the usual comfort it brought was absent, replaced by the uncomfortable weight of his gaze.
“You’re not yourself,” Lando said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, my tone clipped.
“Don’t lie to me,” he replied, his tone more serious than I was used to.
I set my fork down, the clink of metal against porcelain louder than it should have been. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking.”
His eyes softened, his frustration giving way to concern. “Y/N…”
“Lando, I’m fine,” I interrupted, though the words felt hollow.
He didn’t push further, but I could see the gears turning in his head. He sat back, glancing down at my half-finished plate of pasta before gesturing to the waiter.
“Can we get the check, please?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.
I frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Paying,” he said simply, standing as the waiter approached.
“For me?”
“Yes,” he said, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Come on.”
“Come on where?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
“You’ll see,” he said, extending a hand.
I hesitated for a moment before letting him pull me to my feet.
The warm night air hit us as we stepped out of Gigi’s, the soft sound of waves in the distance mingling with the faint hum of the city. Lando didn’t say anything, his grip on my hand firm but gentle as he led me toward Larvotto Beach, just a short walk away.
“Lando, seriously,” I said as we reached the sand. “What’s going on?”
He stopped, turning to face me, his green eyes brighter under the moonlight.
“We need to talk.” he said simply.
And just like that, my heart started racing, even though I had no idea what he was going to say.
The beach stretched out before us, quiet except for the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. The city lights glittered faintly in the distance, their reflection dancing on the dark water. Lando walked beside me, his shoulders tense, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.
For once, I didn’t fill the silence. I didn’t trust myself to. My thoughts were a whirlwind—last night’s overheard words still fresh in my mind, colliding with the unexpected intensity of this moment.
We walked like that for a while, the sand soft beneath our feet, until Lando came to a sudden stop. He turned to face me, his green eyes catching the moonlight in a way that made my stomach twist.
“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
I crossed my arms, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “Try the beginning.”
He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “The beginning’s too far back. I’d be here all night.”
“Good thing I don’t have anywhere else to be,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression softening. “Y/N, I have a lot of friends. Like, a lot of friends.”
I blinked, confused. “Okay?”
“But none of them get to me the way you do,” he said, his voice dropping.
I stared at him, my breath catching. “What are you saying?”
He glanced out at the water, like he was searching for courage in the rolling waves. “I mean… you’re not just anyone to me. You never have been. You’re the first person I think of when something happens—good or bad. And the idea of upsetting you? It’s unbearable.”
My throat tightened as his words sank in.
“Like today,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “You ignored my calls, and I couldn’t stop thinking about whether I’d done something wrong. Whether I hurt you somehow. Because if I did…” He stopped, exhaling sharply, and shook his head. “I can’t stand the thought of you being upset because of me.”
I didn’t respond, too caught up in the flood of emotions his words were pulling from me.
“When you’re upset, it breaks my heart,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “And when you laugh… it’s like my entire day gets brighter. When you’re sad, it feels like my world’s falling apart.”
“Lando,” I started, but he held up a hand, shaking his head.
“I’m not done,” he said, his words tumbling out now, faster and more frantic. “I’ve been feeling like this for so long, and I thought I could just push it aside or pretend it didn’t matter, but it does. It matters so much. And if I messed up—if I’ve ruined this somehow—I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“You didn’t—”
“I’m in love with you,” he blurted, his eyes locking onto mine. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to admit it. And I know this might change everything, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”
I froze, his confession slamming into me with the force of a tidal wave.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know if this makes sense. I just… I can’t lose you, Y/N.”
Without thinking, I stepped closer, grabbed his face, and kissed him.
For a second, he was completely still, caught off guard. But then he kissed me back, his hands slipping to my waist as he pulled me closer. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it deepened quickly, making the world around me disappear.
When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us catching our breath.
“So… I’m guessing you feel the same?” he asked, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re so slow sometimes,” I murmured, shaking my head with a laugh.
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes,” I said, smiling.
The relief on his face was almost comical. He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly like he never wanted to let go.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he murmured into my hair.
“And I’ve wanted to hear it,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “But… yesterday. Did I say something? Did I—”
I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “I overheard you talking to Charles.”
His face paled. “Oh.”
“You said I’d never be more than a friend,” I said, my voice wavering.
Lando winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, Y/N, that’s not how I meant it at all. I said that because I thought I didn’t stand a chance. Like… you’re so important to me, and I didn’t want to mess up what we already had by wanting something I thought I could never have.”
He looked at me with a mix of regret and hope. “I’m an idiot. It wasn’t because I didn’t want more—it’s because I didn’t think I could have it.”
“You are an idiot,” I said, my lips twitching into a small smile. “But you’re my idiot.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yours, huh? Bold claim.”
I tilted my head, my grin widening. “Think you can find someone else to deal with you the way I do?”
He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Deal with me? You mean worship my charm and tolerate my perfection?”
“Oh, please,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “The only thing I’m worshipping is the patience I’ve built up putting up with you.”
His hands slid to my waist, pulling me slightly closer, his smirk turning more mischievous. “You love me. Admit it.”
“Not a chance,” I said, even as my pulse quickened.
His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my eyes again, his voice softening but still teasing. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
Before I could respond, he closed the gap, kissing me again with a fierceness that took me by surprise. This wasn’t the hesitant, nervous kiss from before. It was confident, teasing, like everything we’d been holding back had finally snapped into place.
I kissed him back, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. His hands tightened on my waist, grounding me as he smiled against my lips, murmuring, “Still denying it?”
I broke the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, raising an eyebrow. “You think one kiss is going to make me fold?”
“Two,” he said smugly, leaning in for another without waiting for an answer.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t stop him, meeting him halfway this time. His lips curved into a grin mid-kiss, and I could feel his stupid, insufferable smugness radiating off him.
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked when we pulled apart, my voice laced with mock annoyance.
“Unbelievably,” he replied, his grin widening as he rested his forehead against mine. “And don’t pretend you’re not.”
“Maybe I am,” I admitted, smirking. “But if you keep talking, I might start regretting it.”
He laughed, pulling me closer. “Alright, no more talking. For now.”
“Good,” I said, leaning in again, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else fell away.
The weight of everything unsaid was gone, replaced by the warmth of realizing we’d both been fighting our way toward the same truth: we’d always belonged to each other.
When we broke apart, Lando’s grin turned mischievous, and I immediately knew he was up to something. Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly and started toward the water.
“Lando! Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, squirming in his arms as laughter bubbled out of me.
“Payback for all those times you called me an idiot,” he teased, stopping just as the waves lapped at his shoes.
He finally set me down, his smirk smug and unapologetic. “Admit it. You love me anyway.”
Figures. I’m in love with someone who steals my fries and once confidently argued that dolphins were just “sea dogs.” I wouldn’t have it any other way though.
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hyunsuloves · 2 days ago
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omg girl I'd just seen your "squid game women with a timid s/o" , could you do the same but for men? thanksss 💖
super shy.
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synopsis … squid game men with a timid s/o ꨄ︎. (or a part two to this.)
pairings … myung-gi, dae-ho, jun-ho, thanos, nam-gyu, min-su x fem!reader (separately)
warnings … fem reader, non game au, some may be ooc but what else is new, i apologize for any typos !!
lovely notes … the post i did with the female characters did surprisingly well omg..
꩜ [ 857 words ]
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myung-gi / player 333 is so similar yet so different from you. he’s not a candid person, but he doesn’t always keep to himself.
he tends to keep under wraps but isn’t opposed to speaking out around others.
he encourages you to speak up for yourself, though he’s joking the majority of the time. he likes to tease you way too often for comfort.
“you know you can speak up for yourself, right?” “myung-gi, leave me the hell alone.” “this is what happens when i try to help you. so ungrateful.”
he orders for the both of you, so even if you weren’t so shy, he’d take upon the task himself either way.
he makes fun of people in awkward social settings to ease your worries. he’ll whisper the dumbest jokes ever to make you feel less awkward around the large crowd of bodies.
the both of you just stay near one another while in public. there’s nothing better than the proximity of a loved one when in the worst possible social setting.
dae-ho / player 388 is your polar opposite. he’s very social, energetic, and forthright.
he’s a social butterfly wherever he goes, and you have the misfortune of constantly being dragged along.
he’s always ready to go when you are. even if he isn’t finished socializing, he’s saying his farewells as soon as you tell him that you’re ready to leave.
“hey, you ready to go?” “we’ve only been here a few hours. go have fun, baby.” “no, let’s go. i wanna go home with you.”
despite dragging you to every social event ever, he’ll speak for you without even thinking about it. even if you can speak for yourself, he talks for you. he always feels slightly guilty for dragging you out of your humble abode to accompany him to his affairs.
he speaks up for you every time, without fail. he defends you, orders your food for you, the whole deal.
jun-ho is your contrast, as he’s far from shy. he isn’t always outspoken.
while he has a more free-spoken personality than yours, he has moments when he’s just as reserved as you are.
he’s the first to your defense when he sees someone troubling you. even if you weren’t his partner, he’d rush to your defense nonetheless.
“hey, tell me if they say anything else to you.” “of course. thank you, jun-ho.”
the way this man is so protective over you is so nonsensical. he’d be defensive nonetheless, but especially with your timid nature.
thanos / player 230 couldn’t be more different from you. he’s the most eccentric and outgoing person you have ever met.
from social gatherings to parties, to any get-together he can find, you’ll find him there. of course, he drags you along to wherever he’s going.
he urges you to speak for yourself more often than not. although he doesn’t mind speaking for you, a lot of the time he’ll put you in situations in which you have no choice but to verbalize.
“señorita, learn how to speak for yourself.” “stop talking to me, su-bong.”
to no one’s surprise, he’d fight over you if needed. if you’re being targeted, he’d attack the individual without a second thought.
his favorite thing to do is fluster you. compliments upon compliments is all you hear from this man, and it’s all to see you act all diffident.
nam-gyu / player 124 is, like thanos, your polar. he’s a very extroverted person, opposite your timid demeanor.
he’s a very lax, social type of person. he likes to relax when he’s at get-togethers, similar to you.
he loves to flatter you. it’s not even to fluster you, he just wants you to be so conscious of how much he loves you all the time.
“you look so pretty, baby.” “leave me alone, nam-gyu.” “what? i mean it.”
he’s the first person to come to your defense, as expected. even though he’s the type to let himself be belittled, he’d never let it happen to you.
he’s the kind of person you can sit in silence with and not have it be awkward. silence with him is quite comforting.
min-su / player 126 is literally your twin. the both of you are the most reserved people known to man.
the amount of times you’ve just sat in silence, enjoying the other's presences is too much to count. the two of you simply sit in quietness.
if it comes to something like ordering food, you often take the initiative because min-su is way too shy for his own good.
“can you order for me?” “of course, love. i got it.” “thank you so much. where would i be without you?”
the only person either of you is comfortable around is the other. you’re a wreck around others, but it’s absolute tranquility when you’re with one another.
if it came to defending one another, you’d come to his defense without hesitance. he’s more tentative to defend either one of you, so it usually comes down to you doing it.
the both of you are a shy pairing and a very likely couple that surprised no one.
837 notes · View notes
sinstear · 3 days ago
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if there was one thing that kept her at bay from anything, it would be her arm. she loved and hated that part about herself. loved that it could protect her when needed, but hated that it could hurt someone she loved. sevika wasn’t afraid to use something so powerful to keep away evil, but she would never forgive herself if she accidentally hurt the one she swore to protect. even just holding their face in her hand, sent shivers down her spine and worry through her mind and body.  
you never minded though. in fact, there were times when you’d be sitting with her or near her, that your eyes would travel away from her current card game, down her metal arm, more times than none, and just stare at it. it was beautifully fascinating to you. with or without her knowledge of you just gawking at her. 
sevika did notice one night though, out of the blue, to your surprise, when you were comfortably sitting beside her— drinking from her whiskey glass and watching how she flawlessly yet swiftly dealt her cards. 
it started with her body tensing beside yours, calmy, when you lightly traced patterns on the cool metal, not wanting to push her into anything, just being gentle and cautious with your approach. then it was the way she looked at you from the corner of her eye, seeing you sitting there, looking down at her arm— but you didn’t look scared or worried. not like most people did. you looked interested.
“do you think it’s gonna bite you or something if you state at it any longer?” her voice rang out, raspy and gruff. the cigar hanging loosely between her lips made her look ten times hotter.
“that a challenge?” 
“maybe, maybe not, who knows with you.” 
for the remainder of her games— most of the time she could sit there all day but if she has company, aka you, then she takes time to spend with you before she’s got her usual shit to do, and finally stubbed out her cigar and put all of her attention on you. 
“you’re quiet,” she pointed out, sliding the coins off the table and pushing them into her pocket. “which is unusual, you’re never quiet.”
“gee, thanks,” you glared at her, yet the way your lips quirked up into a smile, made it aware you weren’t really mad. “just thinking.”
“well don’t be too excited to share, what’s wrong?” 
her eyes followed your gaze, and that’s when she quickly noticed you weren’t looking at her anymore, more or so looking at her arm again. “can i hold it?” 
your question was an innocent one, cautious even, but to her, it meant everything. you could tell by the way her eyes shifted away from you nervously, looking at anything but you. “i don’t think that’s a good idea,” she laughed, trying to play it off. “probably shouldn’t.” 
“shouldn’t or don’t want me to?”
“is there a difference?”
she’s looking at you again, too busy focused on what you’re saying to notice the small shift of your hand reaching for her metal one. “who knows with you,” you murmured with a playful smile.
it’s only when she feels you interlock your fingers with hers that she tries to pull away and save you the trouble but you’re faster. just a little, and pressing her hand to your cheek.
“you won’t hurt me.” you reassured. as if you were answering a question her eyes were silently asking, something she couldn’t find herself saying out loud. sevika’s lips part with a gentle sigh when your free hand reaches up and cups her metal hand against your cheek a little firmer, and she clenches her jaw tightly once you’re smiling. “i promise, you won’t hurt me, you can’t.” 
“how do you know i won’t?” she asked, insecurity laced with worry in her voice. 
“because if you wanted to you would have done it when we first met.” you stated, eyebrow raising just slightly when sevika moves her fingers across the apples of your cheek slowly. the coldness of the metal tingling your skin as she moved. “but you haven’t, so.” 
“maybe you just haven’t pissed me off enough yet.” sevika grins, and it’s almost primal in the way she looks at you. 
“yet,” you clicked your tongue with a light chuckle. “there’s still time then.”
your eyes lock with hers as she presses her thumb against your lips, almost like she wasn’t aware of what she was doing, while you mischievously winked. “maybe just a little time,” she murmured and pushed harder.
the cold metal of her fingers brushed against the muscle of your tongue before you knew it and sevika didn’t know whether to moan or growl at the sight of you grinning smugly around her fingers. it wasn’t something she was used to. she’s used to people seeing it, turning the other way and getting away from her.
but here you are, greedily sucking her fingers and having no issues or worries. not caring in the slightest. “you’re gonna be the death of me,” she admitted, in awe of you and watched you closely. “and i think it’s worrying that i’m perfectly okay with that.”
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plethorawrites · 23 hours ago
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Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!
Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?
Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!)
The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.
Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.
The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.
Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.
Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.
You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.
"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."
With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"
"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."
It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.
The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.
It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.
Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.
"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"
"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.
"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."
He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.
Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.
But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.
"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.
"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.
"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."
"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."
You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.
You still had to find a dress.
Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.
He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.
In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.
He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.
You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.
But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.
He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.
Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.
"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"
"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.
You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"
"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."
"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.
"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."
He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.
You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"
He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.
"Will you bring me back?"
Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.
You gave up and left with him.
Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.
He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.
Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.
"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.
"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.
He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.
"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"
"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."
And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.
For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.
Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.
He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.
Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.
"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.
"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."
Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.
You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."
He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.
"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.
A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.
So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.
Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.
Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.
"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.
"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.
He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.
The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.
"Jay?!" You exclaimed.
"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."
Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.
He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.
Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.
"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.
He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.
You stormed out on him.
And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.
"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.
Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.
You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.
"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.
"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.
"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.
"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."
His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.
You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"
"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"
You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.
"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.
(+Bonus)
It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.
So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.
You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.
"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."
"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.
"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.
You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.
He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.
He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.
You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."
He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.
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jinwoosbabyboo · 3 days ago
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I have a silly thought that I would like to share with you. Sometimes, I make random noises as a sort of verbal keysmash. Wouldn't it be funny if the verbal keysmashes were somehow Lemurian swear words? Or an old Philos curse?
Gibberish … Maybe?
How I imagine the LADS men reacting to you accidentally saying something in another language. Whole time you just made a random noise and have no clue what they’re even talking about. A/N: Imagine saying "manamana doot dee de dee tee" and they think you just cursed them out in a different language
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Zayne
Doorways and staircases really suck sometimes because why did you completely forget what you came in the kitchen for as soon as you walked through the cased opening. You stood there dumbfounded and made a random noise which you could only refer to as a ‘verbal keyboard smash’
Zayne: Where did you learn that? MC: Learn what? Zayne: You just said ‘Forevermore’ in latin MC: I literally made the most random noise my brain could think of Zayne: That was latin clear as day MC: How the hell do you know latin? Zayne: I studied it MC: Why? Zayne: Why not?
From then on Zayne sends you random quotes in latin just to see if you can tell what they say. You keep telling him you never learned latin and have no clue what he’s talking about. After months of him teaching you bits of latin you two have your own little secret language now.
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Rafayel
Your brain must've stopped working for a second because here you are opening the oven with your left hand and reaching in with your right hand. The problem? The oven mitt is on your left hand. Just as the tip of your finger is about to hit the edge of that scalding hot cookie sheet you pull your hand back making the most random shocked noise.
Rafayel: What did you just call me? MC: What are you talking about? Rafayel: You just basically called me a barnacle muncher in glubbanese MC: Glubba what?! Rafayel: Who taught you that? MC: Nobody taught me anything what in the blue fuck are you talking about? Rafayel: Are you seeing other Lemurians? MC: I made a random noise Raf get outta my ear with all this
You turned to pull your baked goods out of the oven and set them on the stove. You quickly turned the oven off before turning back to him.
MC: Also aren’t you the only Lemurian left Rafayel: Me and my aunt Talia … wait!
He grips you by the shoulders
Rafayel: Was it her?! I knew it! I'll be back MC: NO! I-
You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence as he turned on his heels and made a beeline for the front door. You try to stop him from storming out the door, but he was too fast. You stare at the door dumbfounded because you still have no clue what the actual fuck glubbanese is.
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Xavier
Xavier was the perfect body pillow to lean against while you read a book. Perhaps you were a little too immersed in your book because when the major plot twist came the most unintelligible string of gibberish came out of your mouth. You felt Xavier stiffen behind you which broke you immersion.
MC: What's wrong? Xavier: Why did you say that? MC: Say what? Xavier: You just said something rather strange in Philosian MC: I said what in philosophy? Xavier: I’d rather not repeat it MC: Xav I literally just made a random noise Xavier: Well that random noise is ‘hairy anus’ in philosian MC: WHAT???
You sat up so fast you somehow managed to fall off the couch hitting your elbow on the coffee table. Xavier pulled you back onto the couch checking to make sure you were okay before you notice the grin he’s trying to hold back. He finds this whole thing hilarious.
MC: Stop laughing! Xavier: I should’ve known you didn’t mean to say that MC: I didn’t say anything I made a random noise Xavier: I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time MC: If Philosian sounds like random throat noises then yea I guess I'll be more careful
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Sylus
You were laying on the plush couch in Sylus’ study while he was taking a few business calls. He said he would be done soon however the boredom was getting to you. With absolutely zero thought you blurted out a random noise. You didn’t think much of it until you looked over and saw Sylus starring at you; his brows furrowed and his head cocked. You sat up confused on why he was looking at you as if you’d just called him a no neck bitch or something.
Sylus: Where did you learn that? And when? MC: Learn what? Sylus: You just tried to curse me MC: I didn’t do anything…… Sylus: That was a curse in ancient Philosian MC: That was random gibberish Sylus: …. MC: Fix your face Sylus: Trying to get rid of me sweetie? MC: I’m not trying to do anything! Sylus: Unfortunately for you those curses don’t work on me you’ll have to try something else MC: What in the blue hell do you mean ‘try something else’ I didn’t try anything in the first place!
Ever since you supposedly tried to curse him in a language you’d never heard of he’s constantly teasing you. He checks in from time to time to see if you’ve taught yourself any new spells and you tell him the same thing every time.
MC: Sylus it was a random noise Sylus: Keep telling yourself that Sorceress
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rafecameronssl4t · 1 day ago
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F1 driver!Rafe x Reader! As someone that loves watching F1, I'm so happy you're doing this, and damn fans can be vicious sometimes so it gave me an idea. Maybe Reader is getting hate online, with jelaousy comments, saying that ''she's not pretty enough, she's so basic looking, I don't understand what he sees in her, I guess anyone has a chance with Rafe,''. And gradually the words get to her, making her really self concious when she's around him in public, girls near him that are (in her opinion) prettier and eventuallys she tries to break up with him, but he does not let her (not in a toxic way, more so because he loves her and isn't going to let anyone come between them)
Public eye || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: So sorry this took awhile!!!!!! But thank you for the request it was sm fun to write :)
Warnings: angst, mental health struggles, bullying and online harassment, if theres anything else lmk!
Word count: 2, 946
MASTERLIST (F1 driver!Rafe x fem!reader au masterlist)
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Your fingers hovered hesitantly over the comment section of the video, your heart beating just a little faster as you stared at the screen. The clip, a simple moment of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, was already gathering attention. He was beside you, his hand casually draped over your shoulder as you both made your way through the crowd, looking every bit like a power couple.
You could still hear the soft hiss of the shower jets from the bathroom, Rafe taking his time to wash off the stress of the race. You should have been doing something productive, but the pull of curiosity was too strong. Lately, your presence on social media had been growing—both the praise and the hate.
You’d never been one to look at the comments, always avoiding the spotlight, but today… something felt different. You clicked on the comment section, your thumb hovering nervously over the screen as you scrolled down. The first few comments were harmless, even flattering. “You two are perfect together,” one said. “Her smile is contagious,” said another.
Your lips curved into a faint smile as you read through them, the warmth of their compliments offering a brief comfort. For a moment, you forgot about the nagging feeling building in your chest. But then the tone shifted. You could feel your stomach tighten as the first negative comment appeared. “She looks so out of place with him,” one user wrote, followed by another comment: “She doesn’t belong in paddock.”
Your fingers trembled slightly, but you tried to push the discomfort aside. It was just one comment. You kept scrolling. More criticisms followed. Someone commented on your outfit: “Why does she dress like that? She looks like she’s trying too hard.” Another user posted, “She looks so stiff next to him. Does she even smile?” A sharp sting pierced your chest, and you tried to shake it off, but it wasn’t easy.
You’d spent so much time trying to dress right, trying to look the part, but now it felt like none of it mattered. “Her resting face is so rude,” one person said. Another added, “She looks miserable. Why does she always look so cold around Rafe?” You couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop. You knew you had a more serious expression, but it hurt to see it picked apart like this, as if your face wasn’t enough.
You quickly scrolled past more hurtful comments, but the damage had already been done. The video, which had once seemed like a simple moment between you and Rafe, now felt like an invasion of your privacy, like everyone was judging you. You glanced back at the bathroom door, where the sound of Rafe still hummed softly from the shower, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling in your head.
Your hands tightened around your phone, and you felt the familiar weight of insecurities settling in. You weren’t sure why this time felt worse than before. Maybe it was the fact that you were constantly being compared to Rafe’s world now, his fame, his fans, his life in the spotlight. It felt suffocating at times, and the negativity from strangers only made it worse.
You took a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together. This wasn’t about you. It was about Rafe, and his world. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t need their validation, but the ache in your chest remained. Before you could sink any deeper into the spiral of your thoughts, the bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe’s voice, still heavy with the sound of water dripping, called out to you.
“Hey, everything alright?” Rafe’s voice was soft as he stepped into the room, the steam from his shower trailing behind him. His towel hung low on his hips, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His brows furrowed slightly when his eyes landed on you, the tension in your posture giving you away. You swallowed hard, quickly flipping your phone face-down on the bed as you forced a small, unconvincing smile.
“Yeah, just… tired. It’s been a long day.” Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he were debating whether to push further. Instead, he let it slide, disappearing into the closet to grab a pair of boxers. When he returned, his tone was casual, though there was an edge of curiosity in his voice.
“Did you want to walk in with me tomorrow?” he asked, tossing the towel into the hamper before slipping on boxers. He moved with practiced ease, his body language as relaxed as ever. It was a question you’d heard countless times before, something routine between the two of you, but tonight, it felt heavier. Different. You nibbled on your bottom lip, his question tugging you back to the comments you’d just read.
She looks out of place next to him… She doesn’t belong there. The words replayed in your head like a taunting echo. You hesitated before replying, your voice quieter than usual. Your fingers toyed with the edge of the duvet as you hesitated. “Uh, I think I’ll come a bit after,” you said finally, trying to sound casual, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Rafe paused for a moment, his head tilting slightly as he considered your answer.
His brows furrowed just enough to show that he noticed the shift in your tone, but he didn’t push. Instead, he hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he climbed into bed. Once settled, he turned his attention back to you, his head propped on his hand as he studied your face. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern.
You nodded quickly, your smile brighter this time, though it still didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I promise, I’m fine,” you said, hoping the words sounded convincing. But even as you said them, your mind was still swirling with doubt, the insecurities clawing at the edges of your composure. Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide for now. Instead, he reached out and tugged you gently toward him, his arms wrapping around your body in a warm, familiar embrace.
His lips brushed softly against your temple before trailing down to your shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, like an anchor. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you nestled into his chest, the comfort of his presence momentarily dulling the ache in your heart. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice almost trembling.
~
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Walking into the paddock alongside Rafe’s PR manager, Mia, you couldn’t shake the weight of countless eyes on you. It felt suffocating, as though everyone’s gaze was dissecting your every move, every expression. The hum of chatter and camera shutters blended into an almost deafening background noise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying—or thinking.
Were they silently judging you? Waiting for you to stumble, to make some minor misstep they could pounce on? The thought sent a sharp pang of anxiety through your chest. It wasn’t just paranoia; you’d seen how quickly narratives could form online, how a single bad photo could spiral into accusations and labels. If you weren’t smiling enough, they’d say you were cold, ungrateful. If you stood too close to Rafe, they’d call you clingy. Too far, and you’d seem distant, uninterested.
Your grip on your paddock pass tightened, glancing briefly at Mia, who was confidently walking ahead, her phone in hand, seemingly oblivious to the tension building inside you. She had a way of carrying herself that made it seem like none of this affected her—like the noise bounced off her shield of professionalism. You envied her for that. The click of a camera somewhere to your left made your heart skip a beat.
You didn’t dare look, afraid of what expression might’ve been caught. You straightened your posture instead, forcing a faint smile that felt unnatural, plastered on for the sake of appearances. The effort felt exhausting, but it was what you’d learned to do in this world—pretend you didn’t notice, pretend it didn’t hurt. As you walked, you could feel whispers trailing in your wake, the murmurs mingling with the mechanical hum of the paddock.
Were they talking about your outfit? Your hair? The fact that you weren't walking in with Rafe? It was a never-ending game of scrutiny, and you felt like a chess piece on a board you barely understood. "Hey, are you good?" Mia's voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Her tone was light, accompanied by a small chuckle as she caught the distant look in your eyes.
You blinked rapidly, turning to her with a startled expression. “Sorry, what?” you asked, your voice slightly shaky. She chuckled again, tilting her head curiously. “Are you okay? You seem nervous,” she repeated, her eyes scanning your face as the two of you approached the Ferrari area. “Yeah! Yeah—I’m fine, just jet lagged,” you replied quickly, your tone a little too chipper to be convincing. You added a casual shrug for good measure, hoping it would sell the lie.
Mia’s gaze lingered for a moment, but she slowly nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright, if you say so. I’ve got to go organise Rafe for his interview. Will you be okay by yourself? I think Austin’s around here somewhere,” she said, glancing around the bustling paddock. “Yeah, of course, go ahead. I’ll look for him,” you assured her with a polite smile.
She nodded, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the chaos, leaving you alone amidst the buzz of mechanics, media personnel, and fans. You continued walking, your eyes darting around in search of a familiar face. The usual hum of the paddock felt louder now, almost oppressive, as you noticed more phones and cameras turning in your direction. A knot tightened in your stomach.
Normally, you could brush it off, but today the weight of their stares was unbearable. Biting your bottom lip nervously, you quickened your pace, practically darting into the safety of the Ferrari garage. The moment you stepped inside, a voice called out to you, making you pause. “Y/n!” Relief flooded your chest as you spotted Austin waving you over from the balcony of the hospitality area.
“Hey!” you greeted him warmly, embracing him in a quick hug. “Rafe should be done with his interview pretty soon,” Austin said, glancing at his watch. You hummed in response, setting your things down on the table before joining him at the railing. The two of you leaned against it, looking down at the sea of people navigating the paddock below. “Yeah, Rafe and I were planning to head back to OBX for a week after—”
Your words trailed off as your eyes froze on a group of girls huddled together, their phones unmistakably aimed in your direction. Their whispering and laughter sent a chill through you, making your shoulders stiffen visibly. Noticing your silence, Austin followed your gaze. His brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but probing.
You swallowed hard, tearing your eyes away from the girls. “I-uh—I’ll just sit down for a bit,” you muttered, moving back toward the table. Austin watched you carefully, his confusion evident. “Do you know them?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. After a moment, he sighed, his tone shifting to something more knowing. “Have you been reading comments again?”
The question made your head snap up, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t respond, but your silence was enough. “Y/n,” he said gently, pulling out a chair across from you and sitting down. “You know those are just jealous people who wish they were in your position, right?” “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But they still hurt, Austin.”
“I know they do,” he admitted, leaning forward. “But think about it—what they’re saying about you… Is any of it true?” You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to your phone as you hesitated. “They’re not,” Austin continued firmly. “Because they don’t even know you. But we do. Rafe does. Don’t let them get to you. They’re just miserable people trying to make someone else miserable too.”
His words sunk in, easing some of the tightness in your chest. A small smile crept onto your lips, the warmth of his reassurance breaking through the cloud of doubt. “Thanks, Austin. I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice softer now but filled with genuine gratitude. He grinned back, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence.
“Anytime. Now, let’s get you smiling again before Rafe gets back, or he’ll never let me hear the end of it.” You chuckled lightly, feeling just a little lighter as the weight of those comments began to fade, replaced by the comfort of a friend who truly understood.
~
The jets in the bathroom continued to hum, the sound blending into the background as you stared at your phone screen, your chest tightening with every cruel word you read. The image of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, so innocuous and routine, had somehow become the catalyst for a torrent of negativity.
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Your throat constricted, and you bit down hard on your bottom lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. But it was too much. The weight of their words pressed on you, an avalanche of insecurities crashing down. You dropped your phone onto the bed as though it had burned you, standing there frozen for a moment, your hands trembling.
The bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. His carefree, post-shower demeanour faltered the moment his eyes landed on you. “Hey,” he said cautiously, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” You shook your head, quickly wiping at your cheeks, but the tears had already betrayed you. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.” His tone was firmer now, his blue eyes scanning your face for answers. He glanced at your phone lying facedown on the bed, and his expression hardened as he pieced it together. “Did you read the comments again?” The lump in your throat grew, and you couldn’t speak, your silence confirming his suspicion.
Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Y/n, why do you let them get to you? They’re just a bunch of—” “It’s not just them, Rafe!” you snapped, cutting him off. The words spilled out before you could stop them, sharp and heavy. “This is my life now—being constantly judged, criticised, compared. It’s exhausting. I can’t do this anymore.”
His brows furrowed in confusion and alarm. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I can’t be with you anymore,” you said, your voice breaking as the words left your lips. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Rafe’s face fell, his confident façade cracking in an instant. “What? No. No, that’s not happening.” “Rafe—”
“No!” He stepped closer, his voice low but desperate. “You’re not doing this because of a bunch of idiots online who don’t know anything about us.” “It’s not just them!” you cried, the dam of emotions finally breaking. “It’s everything! The constant attention, the pressure, the way people look at me like I’m not good enough for you. And maybe they’re right! Maybe I’m not!”
“Don’t you dare say that,” he interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. He reached for your hands, holding them tightly even as you tried to pull away. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough, Y/n.” “I can’t keep living like this, Rafe,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I feel like I’m losing myself.
Rafe’s grip on your hands tightened as if letting go would make your words true. “I don’t care what they say. None of it matters to me. You matter. You’re the only thing that matters.” Your lips trembled as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity there almost too much to bear. “But what if I can’t handle it?” “Then I’ll help you handle it,” he said firmly, his voice softening as he pulled you closer.
“You’re not doing this alone. I love you, Y/n. I don’t care what those people think. They mean nothing to me—nothing.” You let out a shaky breath as his words washed over you, your resolve weakening under the weight of his conviction. Rafe cupped your face gently, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “We’ll get through it together. I promise.”
For a long moment, you just stood there, your forehead resting against his as you tried to steady your breathing. The pain was still there, raw and jagged, but so was the love in his voice, in his touch. “I don’t know if I can be enough,” you whispered. “You already are,” he replied without hesitation. “You’ve always been enough for me.” And somehow, in his arms, the weight of the world felt just a little lighter.
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summervb · 1 day ago
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𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐭 | thanos (player 230) × fem!reader
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summary | Thanos constantly harasses you until you stand up to him
warnings | strong language, drug use, physical confrontation, kissing
word count | 1.6 k
author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩
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It all started with a look—one of those glances people give you when they underestimate you. Of course, you were used to it. Here, no one expected much from a girl like you: small, quick, and quiet. And Player 230, whom everyone called Thanos, was no exception.
From day one, that jerk had decided you were his personal entertainment. He provoked you whenever he could, shoving you as he passed, making sarcastic remarks about how "weak" you looked, and making it clear that if he ever had the chance, he wouldn’t hesitate to crush you.
You put up with it because there wasn’t much choice. In this place, showing weakness was a death sentence, and an open confrontation with someone like him could be just as dangerous. But today, something inside you snapped.
It was the fifth game, a test of endurance and precision. Everyone was tense, including the guards patrolling the room. You focused on your strategy, ignoring the murmurs and stares. Then, as always, he showed up.
“Look who’s here, our little rat. Ready to run away when things get tough?”
His voice echoed behind you, and you could hear the smug grin in his tone. You didn’t bother turning around.
“Don’t you have anything better to do, 230?” you replied, trying to stay calm.
He let out a laugh. “No, not really. Watching you fail is the only entertaining thing here.”
He placed a hand on your shoulder, a gesture that was anything but friendly. You swatted it away, turning to face him.
“You know what? That’s enough. I’m sick of your crap.”
His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he quickly recovered his mocking expression. “Well, well. The little rat has claws.”
Your heart was pounding, but you weren’t going to back down. Not this time.
“And what about you? What do you have? Besides a big mouth and a small brain?”
A murmur rippled through the room. The other players were watching the scene unfold with interest, some even smirking. It was rare for anyone to stand up to Thanos, let alone in public.
For a moment, you thought he was going to hit you. He stepped closer, and you could feel his heavy breath, mixed with the unmistakable stench of something chemical. Drugs. You’d noticed it before—his dilated pupils, his slightly clumsy movements.
“You know what’s funny?” he said, leaning toward you. His voice, usually loud and commanding, sounded almost… confused. Like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh at you or with you.
“What?” you snapped, not breaking eye contact.
“I like your attitude.” The grin on his face widened, but this time it didn’t seem mocking. It was different, disoriented.
What happened next took you completely by surprise. Before you could react, his hands grabbed your arms—not forcefully. He looked at you as if he were seeing something new, something he didn’t fully understand, and then… he kissed you.
It was quick, clumsy, and so unexpected that for a moment, you didn’t know how to react. Your brain took a few seconds to process what was happening, but when it did, you shoved him away with all the strength you had.
“What the hell are you doing?” you yelled, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
He stumbled back, a satisfied smile plastered across his face.
“You’re sexy when you’re angry, you know?”
Your blood boiled. The air in the room seemed to freeze. The other players stared at you—some horrified, others trying to stifle their laughter. The guards, as always, did nothing, letting the chaos unfold on its own.
“You’re insane,” you said, not bothering to lower your voice.
He took a step toward you, but this time, you stepped forward first.
“No. I’m warning you—don’t come any closer.”
Something in your tone must have reached him because he stopped. He blinked a couple of times, as if trying to process your words, and then let out a low, almost raspy laugh.
“You know, I think I like you more than I thought.”
You couldn’t believe it. This idiot was definitely high and didn’t seem to have any idea how inappropriate his behavior was. But instead of feeling intimidated, a wave of fury surged through you.
“If you ever touch me again,” you said, pointing a finger at him, “I swear you won’t walk out of the next game.”
For a moment, he just stared at you. And then, to your surprise, he nodded.
“Fine, little rat. But don’t be surprised if you change your mind someday.”
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shackleton2 · 3 days ago
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it's true and I say this as an avid binge-watcher who in the stone age had to look up transcripts of episodes because I couldn't wait THREE ENTIRE DAYS OF MY LIFE FOR NETFLIX TO MAIL ME THE NEXT DVD
Seasons of TV released as one fat drop of 8-12 1-1.5hr episodes, literally being told THIS IS FOR YOU TO BINGE IN ONE INSANE SITTING is the exact definition of my dreams and desires.
......why are they no good??
I can definitely think of exceptions, but "both of them have too much time and not enough time for the characters to struggle and grow and change," as it's well-put above, does seem to be the rule more and more. But what does that phrase really mean??
I saw something recently weighing in on this and saying series in particular seem to think every single thing depicted on screen has to move the story forward, possibly because everything is angled to encourage "binging". It's funny because that sounds like it should do the opposite of making the story feel ponderous and pointless!! So what's going on?
Maybe it's because Real Life™ isn't constantly moving towards one plot resolution, so the more you write a story where that's true, the more impossible true immersion for the viewer becomes?
But also I think actively designing a series to be compulsively watched in one or two massive sittings is hurting them as stories. Maybe it's because bingeing, especially as it's understood in other contexts, is not about enjoying something massively good, at least not after the initial part.
We all know this, right? You don't binge on something because it's just sooooo good. Are there people out there who have never done any kind of binge? Maybe so, so I'll tell you because I surely have: it's inertia. A really scary kind, to be honest, that feels, after a while of getting acclimated to nonstop-consuming the thing, like an absolute involuntary need. Because the second I stop eating the family sized bag of chips, stop taking another drink, stop lighting another smoke, reality will come rushing back in place of the comfort-stimulus. And in reality I am not experiencing joy or even pleasure, I am experiencing the kind of existential horror you get when you try to convince yourself you don't actually have to deal with your own mind. This 100% applies to letting the next episode autoplay after 5 hours of watching one story unfold.
Sorry I got kinda dark there, but the point I'm trying to illustrate is that I don't think you NEED a GOOD PRODUCT in order to get people to binge. And, well, that shows more and more with this "content" streaming services are releasing.
True Blood was a hot mess in so many ways and my mental health sure as shit was too but holy shit watching that obsessively years back was so FUN. That show and other story-loves of mine feel different from stuff getting released in full-season streaming dumps right now, and I don't think it's quality of writing or acting or effects or anything else making the difference as much as whether a show seems to genuinely LIKE itself, or whether it's counting on you finding it preferable enough to reality to let the next episode play and thus get good stats.
we need 15-20 episode seasons again these limited series have the worst pacing in the world and none of the character decisions hold any weight
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milkoomi · 2 days ago
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⋆˚࿔ a new canvas means a new you 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
a mini series on the art of becoming a better you
previous chapter
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chapter two — THE ART OF SELF CONFIDENCE
i’ve touched on this topic before, but i wanted to do more of an in-depth deep dive into it! self confidence isn’t just about how you feel about your physical self, but it’s also about how you feel about your mental and emotional self; how you feel about your soul and the aura that surrounds you. self confidence can start at your physical self, like your looks, your style, etc. but reaching a true, deeper meaning of having confidence you have to dig deeper into your mind, heart, and soul.
references on self confidence:
“a guide to building confidence” - by me!
“study yourself to become confident” - thewizardliz
“the ultimate guide to becoming confident” - alessya farrugia
“rewiring your subconscious: guide to becoming your dreamiest self” - @glowettee
“building confidence” - @goddessinnerglow
ᥫ᭡. different types of confidence
in alessya farrguia’s youtube video, she discusses the 3 different types of self confidence: physical, social, and authentic confidence. i highly recommend watching her video! she makes really phenomenal points in her discussion!
i’d like to highlight some key points she made in her video:
physical confidence: “stop comparing your behind the scenes to everyone else’s highlights.”
social confidence: “confidence isn’t thinking ‘i know someone will like me’, it’s ‘i know it won’t bother me if they don’t’.”
authentic confidence: “true confidence means trusting yourself”
but i’d like to add mental & emotional confidence. the mentality that you have and how you feel about yourself plays a huge role in self confidence. having a mindset that makes you feel secure and having emotions toward yourself that are positive will help you become more confident. it also helps, immensely, to be in a headspace that makes you feel comfortable being you, that brings you joy, and that brings you peace. being able to have a good relationship with your own emotions can uplift you!
mental confidence:
destress & decompress — when your mind is weighed down by stress, you start to feel overwhelmed. that overwhelming feeling can cause your mind to break down and make you think that you won’t be capable of recovering from that stress. it’s important to manage your stress and remind yourself that you are capable of overcoming anything that’s causing you those feelings! stress is one of those things that make you feel like everything is impossible, but that’s only a feeling. it’s like having a bad dream, while you’re experiencing that dream it might feel too real and sometimes it may even be scary, but then you wake up and you realize that you’re safe. think of stress as just a bad dream, the feeling is only ever temporary and as soon as you manage it/overcome it you’ll be safe again. and, as a bonus, once you overcome that stress, you feel more secure within yourself and you’re reminded that, yes, everything is going to be okay and you are more than capable of overcoming those feelings!
practice mindfulness within yourself — “mindfulness is the practice of paying attention to the present moment without judgement.” with that being said, practice paying attention to yourself without any judgement. focus on how you’re feeling, what your current thoughts are; focus on you without judging yourself. learn to accept yourself as you are within that present moment and try to steer away from making quick, negative judgements about yourself. yes, you can judge yourself, but do so in a way that’s productive! judge your mental and emotional state, are you in a headspace that is ideal to you? judge your health, do you feel like there needs to be any changes in your lifestyle, diet, or activity level to better your body in a healthy manner? judge yourself, is there anything about yourself that you still need to work on or are there characteristics of yourself that you take pride in?
emotional confidence:
emotional intelligence — this is key to gaining emotional confidence. i recommend this video by The Glow Up Secrets Podcast on youtube! the host brings up so many wonderful and insightful points on becoming emotionally intelligent! being able to self-regulate and to understand exactly what you’re feeling can help you gain confidence in yourself. people will always pride themselves in their intelligence, so let being emotionally intelligent be the intelligence you pride yourself in!
ᥫ᭡. self-acceptance
people have this idea that self-acceptance is just settling for who you are, and well, that’s not really the case— at least in my eyes. learning to accept yourself as you are now will make it easier for you in your self improvement journey. we all want to become the “it-girl/person”, but a lot of us will look for quick fixes or even go towards trying unhealthy habits. allowing yourself to accept who you are right in this moment can be a first step towards becoming the person you strive to be.
accept your insecurities. accept your failures. accept your body as it is right now. accept your faults. then take all of that acceptance and turn it into a learning experience for yourself. learn that your insecurities only become insecurities because of that negative self-talk. learn that you cannot grow without any failures. learn what exactly it is that your body needs to become healthier and better for yourself.
accept yourself, then learn from yourself.
ᥫ᭡. manifestations & affirmations
we can make our dream selves become the reality. there’s so many amazing posts here on tumblr about manifesting, so go look into them! if we believe it, we can have it. you have to believe that you have confidence. you have to affirm yourself that you are confident. people, myself included, talk about “faking it til you make it”, but when you really think about it, the more you repeat these manifestations and affirmations the more it starts to feel true and real to yourself.
this also ties into positive self-talk. we have to speak to ourselves kindly, we have to uplift ourselves in a world that brings us down. talk to yourself with grace, gratitude, and genuine appreciation. you have gotten yourself through countless hardships. sure, there were probably people who helped you out on the way, but at the end of it, it was mostly your own doing that got you to a better place. so appreciate and love that about yourself!
grab a journal and write down all your manifestations and affirmations daily. writing it all down is like setting it in stone. be consistent, and soon enough all that you want for yourself— including self confidence— will come into fruition.
ᥫ᭡. take pride
think of it this way: no one can be you. people can try to imitate you, but they can never truly be you. take pride in how you look because no one has features like yours, take pride in your work because no one worked the way you did, take pride in your accomplishments because no one worked in the same way that you did to achieve those things; take pride in yourself. as cheesy and cliché as it all sounds, there’s literally no one else who is like you.
ᥫ᭡. find a deeper understanding for yourself
this point is heavily inspired by thewizardliz’s video “study yourself to become confident” (linked in the beginning of the chapter). i just want to reiterate her points and expand on them a little bit! her beginning statement includes: “once you know who you are, no one can tell you anything”.
i feel like we all understand ourselves to a certain degree. but understanding yourself on a deeper, more personal level will allow you to truly feel confident. in her video, liz talks about understanding and even studying ourselves to understand what we like/dislike, what we accept/don’t accept, etc. and i genuinely feel like she brings up a really great point in doing so!
we, as humans, feel like we know what we want for ourselves rather than actually knowing what we want for ourselves. we feel like certain people bring us joy, we feel like certain hobbies make us happy, we feel like we understand ourselves. but, in reality, most times we don’t actually know those things about ourselves.
people we surround ourselves with
we think that certain friends/partners bring us joy because we’re taught, sometimes unintentionally, to allow people to make us feel like we have to conform to them and their wants and needs. we don’t know that some of these people in our lives might actually be bringing us and our confidence down.
hobbies people partake in
we think that doing certain things, like drinking or hook-up culture, make us feel happy or satisfied with ourselves. but we don’t know or we’re not aware of how those hobbies, or even habits, might be destroying us physically, mentally, and even emotionally.
behaviors we accept
we think that if we accept certain behaviors that we’ll get more people to like us or get brownie points with a specific person, but we don’t know that accepting bad/poor behavior diminishes our strength and respect for ourself.
this all takes us back to chapter one: THE ART OF LETTING GO. the toxic people we surround ourselves with unknowingly, the hobbies we take part in unknowingly, the behaviors we accept unknowingly; that all needs to be let go of!
we have to truly understand ourselves and truly know exactly what we want for ourselves to gain the confidence we long for. without knowing yourself, you won’t understand how to find and feel genuine self confidence.
ᥫ᭡. final notes
at a certain point, confidence should feel like it comes naturally, but to even get to that point there’s a lot of work that needs to be put into ourselves. especially when a lot of us start off with almost no confidence at all, it can be extremely challenging to even wake up in the morning and think, “i can do this”. you have to be willing to put in the work for yourself. you have to be willing to have patience with yourself. you have to be willing to advocate for yourself. you have to be willing to do all of this for you, and you alone. you can be confident— and confidence will come to you! you’re more than capable of doing so, babe. believe in yourself like you would believe in someone you love and care for.
with lots of love, juno 🌷
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lady-of-endless · 3 days ago
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Seong Gi-hun (player 456) x player!reaader headcanons (season 2)
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Author's Note: I woke up with notes on my other Gi-hun post and watched season 2, got hooked again, and decided to write this. I hope you'll enjoy it! Click here for a masterlist because there's more to come.
- The innocence from the first game is lost once and for all. He's unintentionally less approachable now, always stoic, always tense. After the first game, some thought he was either crazy or suspicious. Your gratitude for his help during the first game surpassed any way you pictured him before. So you decide to keep an eye on him.
- Gi-hun is too focused on the game system and guards to notice you studying him from time to time. He's both amazed and worried about how different the players are from the first time he was there. But if there's one thing that remains the same, it's the sudden greed when the prize is getting higher with each elimination.
- But he doesn't see that in you. After the first game, you understood the gravity of the situation and forgot about the money. The moment the piggy fills with money and everyone is in awe except for him, you look around and your eyes lock with his. He finally notices you then and there. Why? Because you're the only one not looking at the money anymore.
- The second time he will notice you is when you won't eat well because of all the stress and shock. Gi-Hun silently approaches you, sits next to you, and calmly explains how you must eat to have energy for the next game. Despite his stoic tone, you can see worry in his eyes.
- During one night, when he is the only one awake to watch around, you join him in silence. That's when you start opening up to him more. He wasn't expecting it at all.
- He will never judge your reasoning for entering this wicked game. Gi-hun will just listen and try to show understanding.
- Since then, you stayed close to him. He didn't mind it at all. Plus, his mind was already busy with plans and possibilities to save as many as he could.
- You'd think that he might've developed trust issues but his heart didn't allow that. Not when he got attached so fast. You were always there to support him or help him find the right words to convince other players to stop the game from continuing. Slowly, you become something like his confidant even if he forced himself to be cautious around other players.
- When he opens up to you, he opens up about his experience first. He's done it before, telling people what he went through with this damned game but no one asked him how he feels after everything, except for you. He's stunned. It feels like you somehow made your way inside and he's powerless, he can't do anything about it,
- His hands twitch and his body tenses every time you risk getting hurt. He's not even aware of how ready he is to rush to you and help if you need it. But the others are aware. Some will notice how you two simply gravitate closer to each other. Watch out for a jealous-looking Hwang In-ho (player 001).
- Seon-Nyeo (player 044) talked to you two about how you are doomed because of a curse and other scary spiritual details, the way she does with everyone. Gi-hun was unfazed but his eyes softened when he saw you a little bit worried and disturbed. He comforted you, put a hand on your shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze with a half smile (it's still hard for him to smile again, but he'll do it for you).
- He promises you that he'll get you safe out of there, every day and every night.
- Whatever you two will have, he will insist on being kept secret so you won't be in any additional danger because of him.
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suhtorus · 3 days ago
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first day.
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fluff‐parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ preschool teacher!nanami. our little sunshines go to school ! for more info/context, read nanami's part in the masterlist :)
little sunshines au
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nanami stands by the gates, observing and greeting everyone with a smooth 'good morning'. he's already making mental notes about each kid, their behavior during drop-off, and who their parents and siblings are.
there are lots of new faces, but most of these new alumni are related to kids he's already familiar with.
he sees the gojo sons walk in with matching 'Nemo' backpacks, and the youngest, with his red-rimmed eyes, clutches his brother's hand tightly.
a crier, he notes.
but before he can keep watching them, he feels a little one hug his legs with all their might.
"nanamin! meet my babies!"
with a small smile and raised brows, nanami crouches down to yuuji's height. he notices a boy and a girl who look incredibly alike, staring at him with curious eyes.
"hello." he waves at the twins before turning back to yuuji. "are they your cousins?"
"they're my babies!" little yuuji yells excitedly, running over to the kids and grabbing the girl's hand. "uncle 'kuna says I'm not their uncle! but I am! and-and cho–"
"good morning." megumi greets nanami politely, interrupting yuuji's rambling. he has a small girl holding his hand—his younger sister, nanami recalls as megumi pecks the top of her head. "my baby."
nanami can't help but let out a chuckle. "oh? you come with a baby of your own, too?"
the itadori twins can't keep their eyes off of the zenin toddler, the extroverted girl already showing them the glittery nail polish on her fingernails.
"why don't we put those backpacks away?"
nanami faintly hears the geto twins chatting with tsumiki right outside their classroom while the gojo kids chat between themselves. and after realizing he has almost the entire preschool surrounding him, he rises back to his full height and offers them a gentle smile.
and that's how nanami kento starts his day, with a small army of kids that look like baby ducks following after him.
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ten minutes earlier.
GOJO FAMILY
"why is he cryin'?"
your five-year-old tilted his head in confusion while your youngest clung onto you desperately, his wails catching the other kids' attention and threatening to start a chorus of crying children.
"baby, mama promises you'll be veeeeery happy at school." you wiped his tears, smiling and ignoring the lump in your throat. "you're gonna make new friends, you're gonna play, eat yummy food. and when I come back, you'll tell me aaaall about it!"
you were met with a pout and baby blue eyes staring pleadingly at you. so you decided to try a different approach.
"let's make a deal." you grabbed his hands and pressed a soft kiss in his palms. "if you stay here and behave like the good boy you are, I promise to take you to the aquarium."
he perked up instantly, even with his little chest heaving with hiccups. "fishies?"
"yup, we can go see the fishies."
without a second thought, your son wiggled out of your grasp and walked away, only waving his little hand behind him as he joined his brother.
"buh-bye!"
ZENIN FAMILY
"daddy?" your daughter's eyes met your husband's in a classic puppy eyes look. "go with me?"
"no, princess." he brushed her soft hair, his voice surprisingly tender while he crouched down to her eye level. "daddy can't go with you."
she remained silent, playing with the fabric of his shirt between her little fingers as she seemed to be pondering what to do next. your husband braced himself for the tantrum that for sure would follow, something he learned to expect when she didn't get her way.
"okie. bye, daddy!"
his jaw dropped and he swears he could feel his heart break.
ITADORI FAMILY
"nanamin is the best teacher!" sukuna found it both impressive and irritating how yuuji could talk about everything and anything. even as he struggled to climb down the car and put his gigantic backpack on, he wouldn't stop talking. "we dwaw a lot, and we... and we, uhhh, we use cwayons. and we–"
"colors!"
your son yelled excitedly, his cheeky smile making him look like an exact mini version of sukuna.
"nami?" your daughter tried the name on her tongue while allowing you to guide her to the gates. her eyes watched yuuji rush to a man, and it clicked instantly. "nami..."
"someone has a crush already~" you murmured towards your husband, gushing over the interaction of your little girl and the kind teacher welcoming them.
but sukuna had already made up his mind.
"fuck no."
GETO FAMILY
"I don't want him to go to school."
your husband's sudden words made the three of you turn to look at him. each twin had their hand on yours while suguru had the baby attached to his chest thanks to the baby carrier.
"like, ever." suguru continued, patting the baby's tummy and smiling proudly. "I'll teach him everything he needs to know, and he'll be my pupil."
and at that moment, your son's face scrunched up in disgust, bursting into a crying fit five seconds later.
"I don't think he agrees."
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saltyowlets · 2 days ago
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I am the type to analyze and comb details in games, read on the dialogue, and make inferences on what characters are like as i play a game. I did that constantly playing Inquisition and that helped playing such a huge game seem so fun. There are multitude of themes in that game that are so fun to gnaw at and your game play can differ depending on your race, if you let yourself immerse in it.
Then there's Veilguard. See, I initially did the same thing. Comb every area, read into the dialogue and quests, hoping that I would get something substantial to bite like I did with DAI. By the end of Act 1, I realized that there was nothing to chew on.
Everything became predictable, the characters acted as I imagined. There was no nuance to any of the factions. It made me so tired to play through the game and not be rewarded for my diligence. I even nearly 100% the game because there wasn't anything rewarding so I had to find some other way to do so. I didn't even enjoy it, it felt so slow and inefficient. I enjoyed DAI's quests as it doesn't force you to complete them but let's you explore and discover at your pace. I didn't 100% it, not because I didn't want to but because I wanted to discover more when I replay it.
I do not feel like replaying DAV. I can try to convince myself to play a different Rook for the romances and maybe explore different factions, but I know my gameplay will be the same, the outcome won't be any different. None of my choices make a big impact in the game, besides the Minrathus vs Treviso one.
It's crazy cause a common critique of DAI is that choices don't matter but that's not entirely true. Your choices in DAI affect the world state. Who would choose in the War Table missions impact other missions and rewards. Your trials can change public sentiment. The order of the missions you can complete make minor differences in how NPCs interact with you.
DAV just doesn't not have that. I do not feel like what I do matters in the short or long run. I felt like I was pushing myself to finish the game. Im also big on character and game narrative, it was the biggest motivator to finish the game. But in the end, I did not feel satisfactory.
Battle mechanics were fun and the fights were straightforward but that's not enough for me in a game. I can deal with bad gameplay as long as I am given a story I can invest in, a world I can explore.
And sadly, that is far from what DAV is.
it’s interesting how many people, including myself, share the similar sentiment that veilguard is actually incredibly fun while playing, and its the process of thinking back on it after finishing where it begins to fall apart and the holes begin to show… i think it’s especially interesting because at least for me, the other dragon age games are the opposite. i hate playing inquisition, but when i sit and look back on it i cannot help but admire how brilliant the writing and characters are. dragon age 2 can be a slog by act 3 but when i finish and think back on how the story unfolded i know in my heart that it was a masterpiece. i got bored or frustrated while playing them but these games stuck around in my head after finishing them for the first time not just for days or weeks but for years.
veilguard lacks this. i had A LOT of fun playing the game. i love the gameplay loop. i like the puzzles. i love the environments. it was probably the easiest dragon age game to blast through 60 hours of. but then the credits roll and instead of analyzing character arcs and deconstructing banter, im stuck on all the plot holes and missed opportunities.
veilguard gets worse the longer i let it marinate in my brain, rather than better. each rotisserie turn of the story over in my head reveals more and more nothingness - or just clumsy attempts at misdirection so i don’t think too hard about what’s missing. the dragon age games have always been an olympic sized swimming pool that you can dive headfirst into if you want, and you will be rewarded with a corresponding amount of depth. veilguard is one of those kiddie pools at a water park with slides and fountains and a water-based jungle gym on top - it’s fun on the surface and packed with things to do. but if you attempt to dive? you’ll crack your head open.
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nosyp · 2 days ago
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Hii could we pls get a smut w player 120 x f!reader where were basically a very open n kinda cocky talkative person who tried to be all confident around the games but once stuff gets spicy w Hyun-ju we become quiet n get knocked down a few pegs by her? Pls n thank u!!
Oh yesss absolutely anon!!! I chose to do her before she fully transitioned soo...
Also this turned out more rougher than i thought it would
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Title = The Games We Play
Warnings = smut🔞 (MDNI), pegging, semi-hate sex(?), degradation, cum eating, rough sex
Summary = You, all confident and cocky, messes up during a team challenge with Hyun-ju (Player 120), frustrating her. Despite attempting to apologize, Hyun-ju stays angry, leading to a shift in their dynamic that turns intense.
Word count = 2.8k
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You had always prided yourself on being the life of the room. Even in a place like this, full of death and violence, you stood out. Everyone else was quiet, brooding, or sizing each other up, but you? You were a force. A smile always on your lips, a quip always at the ready. The players here seemed to appreciate the distraction, and you loved that you could be the one to make them forget, even if only for a moment, that they were all fighting for their lives.
Don’t get it wrong though, you weren’t anything like that… ‘Thanos’ guy. You didn’t have sick thoughts, try to hurt anyone or get high. The only reason you had ended up here was the generational debt. Your grandpa was a great man, but he was the reason your whole family’s financial situation went up in flames. He wasn’t thinking straight one day, and he gambled loads of money away, even money he didn’t have. And that debt slowly passed down to you. 
Even then, you had quite the bright nature. People didn’t always resonate with you but you, the ever so sweet person, didn’t treat them any different. Your grandpa managed to decrease the debt into only 73 million won and your parents shortened it into 44 million won. The debt was still a hefty amount, it would probably take you your entire life or even more to earn that from your present job. 
Well, that was what you thought until some guy invited you to work at his company and earn loads doing minimum work. The work, the offer in general, felt very creepy to you but you were so desperate to find any sort of reprieve, so you accepted. And now you’re here.
“Aaaa… C’mon, Hyun-ju, you really think I’m gonna let you get away with that?” You teased, leaning back against the wall with a wink, your voice light and teasing as you crossed your arms. “You’ve got to do better than that if you want to win this.”
Hyun-ju, ever the stoic person, only shot you a sharp look in response, but you didn’t mind. You were used to people underestimating you. The confidence you carried was all the armor you needed, and so far, it had worked. But even you couldn’t help but feel the slight shift in the air whenever she was near. There was something... magnetic about her, something that kept you on your toes. Still, you weren't one to let that show. You grinned again, keeping your tone light.
“You know, I’m starting to think you’ve got a thing for me, huh?” You nudged her playfully, voice dripping with confidence as you gave her a look. “Is that why you’re always so intense around me?”
Her eyes flickered briefly, the faintest hint of something in her gaze that you couldn’t place. But before you could tease her further, the moment shifted. You saw her hand reach out, just barely grazing your arm, but it felt different, heavier. More intentional. You glanced at her, a small smirk tugging at your lips.
“Careful, Hyun-ju,” you warned with a teasing chuckle, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “Don’t go falling for me now. I don’t think I’m your type.”
You and Player 120 had decided to go together for the six-legged foot race, and to say you were excited would be an understatement. You were in your element. Cocky, confident, and ready to win. Hyun-ju, however, was a different story. The whole race was supposed to be a breeze, or so you thought. But apparently, your enthusiasm wasn’t enough to make up for the fact that you kept tripping over your own feet and other’s feet.
"Watch where you’re going!" Player 120 snapped as you stumbled for the third time in a single minute. You shot her an apologetic grin, but the frustration in her eyes was hard to ignore. She was always calm, collected, and precise, but today... today, she was starting to unravel.
"Hey, I’m doing my best!" you laughed, brushing it off, but it was getting more difficult to maintain that confident facade. Hyun-ju’s grip on the rope was tight, and her steps were firm. She was dragging you along, keeping you upright as you tried to match her pace, but you were definitely slowing her down.
The more you messed up, the more you could see her temper rising. She kept pulling you back into place with sharp, quick movements, her body rigid with irritation. Each time you missed a step or stumbled, you could feel the tension in her hands grow.
You finally reached a point where you almost collapsed into her after tripping yet again, your legs tangling in the rope. Player 120 hissed under her breath, frustration evident in the way she jerked you back upright. "Come on!" she growled, not bothering to hide the anger creeping into her tone. "Stop messing around. We’re losing!"
You could feel the heat of her annoyance radiating through the rope connecting you two. She was trying her best to stay patient, but the way her brows furrowed and her sharp movements made it clear, this was not what she signed up for.
You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop smiling, despite your constant failures. It was a little funny to you, the way Hyun-ju was getting more and more upset. You could feel her body growing tenser, her pace quickening as she pushed harder, but it only made you feel more careless.
"Hyun-ju, relax, we’ve still got this!" you chirped, but she wasn’t having it.
"Not when you keep messing up every other step!" Her voice was low and tense, the frustration bubbling up to the surface. "Stop trying to make it look easy and focus!"
The mood shifted dramatically, and you could tell Player 120 was barely holding it together. Her teeth gritted in frustration, she tugged on the rope with one firm motion, forcing you to focus. You could see her pushing herself past the point of patience, and that made you swallow your usual cocky remarks. Maybe you’d pushed her too far.
You both hit the final stretch of the race, and with one final, forceful push, Player 120 sprinted ahead. You tried to catch up, but your clumsy movements were no match for her efficiency. You stumbled to the finish line, barely keeping your balance. Player 120 crossed it first, without even looking back. You were sure she didn’t even notice the way her breath came out in sharp gasps, her temper barely in check.
She turned to face you, her eyes narrowing as she exhaled sharply. "Maybe next time you’ll actually try to keep up," she muttered under her breath, her gaze cold and irritated. The playful tone you’d expected from her wasn’t there anymore. She was mad, and it showed.
You could feel the shift in the air between you two, and for the first time, you weren’t sure what to say. Your usual facade faltered as you stood there, caught in the aftermath of your own carelessness.
“Sorry…” You muttered, but it barely seemed to cut through the thick tension. You were silent as you tried to gather yourself. Hyun-ju didn’t seem to hear you, her attention already elsewhere, her gaze focused on the others around the room.
It was clear… you’d pushed her too far, and she wasn’t in the mood for any more of your usual antics. For once, the cocky confidence you usually wore like armor was nowhere to be found.
You stood there, watching as Player 120 walked away, her back rigid and her posture sharp with anger. She was still fuming, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the silence between you. The confident, cocky attitude you usually had started to slip away, replaced by the realization that you’d pushed her too far this time. You had messed up, and now, you needed to fix it.
"Hey, Hyun-ju..." you started, taking a hesitant step toward her. "I’m really sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to mess everything up back there. I’ll try harder next time, I swear."
You watched her shoulders stiffen even more at your words, and when she finally turned to face you, there was nothing but coldness in her eyes. The warmth that usually radiated from her was gone, replaced by a distant, almost irritated expression.
She didn’t respond right away, her lips pressed into a thin line as she crossed her arms over her chest. The silence hung between you two, heavier than any of the games you’d played so far.
"I told you to focus," she said, her voice flat, lacking any of the warmth it usually held when she spoke to you. There was no sign of the playful teasing she’d shown before, only a hint of bitterness in her tone. "You didn’t listen. You kept messing up, and it’s frustrating. I don’t want to keep carrying you through this."
Her words stung more than you expected. You could feel the weight of her disappointment, and it settled deep in your chest. This wasn’t just about the game anymore. She was angry, and it wasn’t something that could be fixed with a quick apology.
"Hyun-ju, I—I get it. I really do," you said, taking another step closer, your tone softer. "I’m sorry for letting you down. But you know I didn’t mean to mess things up on purpose, right?"
She looked at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable, and for a brief second, you thought she might soften. But the longer you stood there, the more it became clear that she wasn’t ready to forgive you.
She shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips. "I don’t want your apologies," she muttered, her eyes avoiding yours now, a mix of frustration and exhaustion in her gaze. "I’m not asking you to be perfect, but at least try to take things seriously. We’re in this together, but it’s hard to feel like we’re on the same team when you keep acting like this."
The silence stretched between you as you stood there, unsure of what to say next. Hyun-ju was clearly still upset, but you couldn't just let her walk away like that. You stepped forward, your breath catching in your throat as you noticed the way her back tensed even more with each step she took. You felt an urge to close the gap, to do something—anything—that would get her to soften.
"Hyun-ju..." you called out once more, your voice low, though there was a definite tremor to it. This time, you didn’t wait for her to turn. You caught up with her and grabbed her arm gently, not enough to stop her, but enough to pull her attention back to you. "I’m really sorry. I don’t want you to hate me."
She didn’t say anything at first, and for a moment, you thought you might’ve pushed her too far, but then, she turned her head slightly, her eyes flashing with a mixture of annoyance and something else you couldn’t quite place. You didn’t pull away; you knew she was still mad, but you also knew you couldn’t let this go unresolved.
Her gaze softened, just a little, and when she spoke, her voice was quieter, more intense than it had been before. “You want to make it up to me?”
You nodded quickly, almost desperate. "I’ll do anything. Just… tell me what you need from me."
There was a heavy pause before she spoke again, her tone thick with something you hadn’t heard from her before. "You keep messing up in all the wrong ways, but maybe... I can show you how to make it up. If you’re willing to listen." Her voice dropped lower, and her eyes darkened as she stepped closer, invading your personal space. “But this time… no more mistakes. Understood?”
Your breath hitched in your throat, and the intensity in her gaze was almost overwhelming. You could feel your pulse racing as you tried to keep your composure, but the air between you had shifted again. The playful teasing was gone, this was something else, something heavier, charged with frustration, desire, and maybe even a hint of something darker that you hadn’t anticipated.
You swallowed, your body reacting despite your thoughts. “Understood.”\
Her lips curled into a smirk, and before you could react, her hand was on your chest, pushing you backward gently, but forcefully, toward the wall behind you. The playful, calculated control she usually had was gone, replaced by something far more intense. And this time, it was clear. She was the one in control, no more funny business.
You hadn’t even had time to comprehend what had happened until you found yourself completely undressed in front of her. Your clothes were torn off by her strong hands and tossed to the side. 
You let out whimpers as your skin got more and more revealed to the cold air, making goosebumps appear on your skin. 
“Not as loud as before huh…” she mutters under her breath, still loud enough for you to hear though.
Without warning, she pulled out her cock from her pants, letting you admire it. She wasn’t the biggest, but it was pretty big. You had no idea how it was going to fit but you were too far gone to go back. 
“W-wait! I-I need uh… to prepare…” you say, causing her to halt.
She let out a sharp sigh, before turning to you. “Go do that then. Quickly.” she ordered.
Not knowing what to do, you hesitantly trailed your hands down… to your folds and started rubbing it. You were so unbelievably wet from the situation, it was visible to both you and her. Quickly, you rubbed your hand up and down your folds, letting your fingers get covered in your wetness.
“Mm–mmh…” you moan. 
Your breath became erratic, each inhale trembling as you desperately tried to steady yourself. The rapid rise and fall of your chest felt out of control, and no matter how hard you tried, the rush of the pleasure kept pushing the air in and out faster. You could feel your heart racing, thumping in your chest, matching the frantic pace of your breath.
“Keep going… you’re doing great…” she says, hand lightly pumping her cock.
Her words echoed in your mind, stirring something deep within you that you tried to ignore. The intensity in her voice, the way she spoke so calmly, as if she had already won… it affected you more than you were willing to admit. The annoyance bubbling in your chest only made the situation worse. But deep down, you knew. She had you. Every word she said was a step closer to making you forget your own thoughts, your own will.
Not long after, you surrendered to the pleasure, releasing fluids all over your fingers. 
“Good… Now clean yourself up,” she says, holding your wrist and bringing your hand in front of your face. Without hesitation, you licked your own fingers, cleaning it. “Good… you’re so obedient now y’know…”
“U-ugh… whatever,” you spat, hitting her with sass.
“Still got some energy in you? I’m gonna fuck that out of you.” she says, her words hitting you like a truck.
You couldn't even remember how long it had been. Time had blurred in a haze of pleasure and exhaustion. Each wave of sensation crashed over you, the moments stretching and distorting into something that felt almost unreal. Her hands, relentless, drawing out orgasms you never imagined you could feel so deeply.
The number of times you'd reached that peak was impossible to count. Every time you thought you might finally break, she pushed you further. Your body trembled, weak from the constant overstimulation, but she showed no signs of stopping. The intensity of it all was overwhelming, and despite your fatigue, there was a part of you that couldn’t help but crave more.
It was a strange kind of torment. Your body aching, yet your mind racing with the need for more, for her to continue. It was a mix of pleasure, exhaustion, and surrender. Every touch, every movement, drew you deeper into the overwhelming abyss, until you weren’t sure where you ended and she began.
“A-ahh! Ng-ngghh!” you whimper, not being able to mutter a single normal word.
“Tell me you love this.” she demands.
“I- Ahh! I- I- “ you mutter, quickly being interrupted by her thrusts. Your mind could barely even think, you didn’t know how you were able to respond to her at all.
“Hmm? What was it?” she asks.
“I- I-... I love this!!” you squeal, letting out yet another orgasm before you knew it.
Then she followed, cumming inside you before collapsing beside you.
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rowdyluv · 3 days ago
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luke! #8 she/her
this is so jack teasing luke! luke having the biggest crush on a friend and everyone knows but her
ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: 8, “Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.” Jᴜsᴛ ɢᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ (ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴ).”
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 500
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴏꜰ ʟᴇɢᴀʟ ᴀɢᴇ
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From the porch, Luke's gaze was unwavering, his eyes locked on the distant figure of Y/n as she laughed and chatted with her friends by the dock. She was the center of their world down there, her laughter carrying through the still air and tickling his ears like a secret only he was meant to hear.
"You've got it bad," Jack said, appearing at his side with a knowing smirk. He handed Luke a cold beer, the condensation leaving a trail of wetness on his palm.
Luke took the bottle, trying to ignore the smirk on his brother's face. "It's not like that," he protested, his voice betraying his words of lies. He took a swig, the cold liquid a temporary balm to his embarrassment.
Jack leaned against the porch rail, his arms folded. "Oh really? Because you’re doing it again," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Doing what?" Luke feigned ignorance, his cheeks reddening slightly as he took a gulp of the beer.
Jack chuckled. "You know, that whole 'I'm gonna watch Y/n from afar like a lovesick puppy and not do anything about it' routine. It's a bit painful to watch.”
"Shut up, Jack," Luke grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "It's not like you've never had a crush before."
“And what did I do? I went and talked to her, right?” Jack asked rhetorically.
The question hung in the air, challenging Luke’s inaction. Y/n’s laughter grew louder, as she led her group of friends back up towards the house.
“Now or never Lukey, you see her. Wait too much longer someone else is going to come around. Don’t want that do ya?” Jack tested, pushed even.
“You’re one to talk, you just go for it without thinking and it’s always a mess. Besides, it’s different for you. Girls just throw themselves at you,” Luke said, trying to hide his jealousy behind a sip of his beer.
“For godsake Luke, if you don’t tell Y/n yourself. I’ll do it for you.” Jack groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Tell me what?” She asked topping the stairs to the porch.
They both spun around to see Y/n standing there, her eyes curious and a hint of amusement playing on her lips. She’d heard the tail end of their conversation. Luke’s heart stuttered in his chest, his grip tightening around the bottle.
“Yes, Luke. Tell her what?” Jack grinned cheekily taking a couple safety steps away from his taller, though younger, brother.
Panic flooded through Luke’s body. He took a big gulp of his beer, his eyes darting between his brother and Y/n. Taking a deep breath, running his hands through his messy curls, he lets out the breath. “Can we talk about it alone?”
“Of course, Lukey. You know we can talk anytime.” She offers out her hand to him to lead him inside so they could talk with the barrier of the door adding a layer of privacy Luke wasn’t too sure of himself, but Jack was right.
Now or never.
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