#anyways. hope everyone is having a nice evening

[mrsfancyferrari]

Want You

Summary: LN4 + "But I don't want them, I want you." 🥧🏈

Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 10.8k

You stand in the mirror, pacing back and forth as you fix your hair for the third time. Tonight is one of those nights where the universe feels electrically charged, a perfect blend of thrill and anxiety swirling in your gut.

Layla, your best friend, has just finished getting ready and is practically beaming with excitement beside you.

Her skin glows under the soft lights of your apartment, and her dress hugs her figure perfectly. You can’t help but feel slightly overshadowed by her beauty.

"Do I look okay?" you ask, biting your lip, your eyes darting from her to your reflection.

"Are you kidding? You look amazing!" Layla exclaims, twisting a lock of her hair, her eyes sparkling. "But you really need to get out there more. You’re gorgeous in your own right!”

You chuckle, brushing off her compliment with a wave of your hand. "Yeah, well, even if I am, who's going to notice when you're around? You’re the one who gets all the attention. "

"That's not true! But anyway, tonight we’re supposed to have fun, not talk about that,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Now, remember the plan?”

You nod, though your heart feels heavier with those words. “Right. We’re meeting Lando and the guys at the club. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m some awkward third wheel. He’s popular.”

Layla rolls her eyes playfully. “You say that every time. You two are friends. Besides, I think he likes you more than you think.”

“Whatever you say,” you respond, your mind racing back to the day Lando had randomly entered your life during a charity event you were volunteering for.

He was charming, funny, and incredibly humble for someone so famous. But the thought of anything romantic blossoming between you seemed absurd, especially when Layla was practically the embodiment of what everyone desired.

At the club, the bass vibrates through the floor, and colorful lights dance around the crowd like fireflies in the night. It’s an atmosphere alive with energy, but you feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought of seeing Lando.

You spot him near the bar, a bright smile on his face as he talks to some friends. Dressed casually, Lando is effortlessly cool, like a magnetic pull that draws everyone’s attention.

“There he is!” Layla exclaims, her excitement infectious. You watch her eyes grow wide like a child spotting a shooting star.

“Go! Go talk to him!” you nudge her, unable to keep the urge to play matchmaker at bay.

“No way! I’m not going without my wingwoman,” she whispers urgently, grabbing your wrist.

With a resigned sigh, you stride forward, Layla trailing closely behind. The moment Lando sees you, his face lights up, and he waves enthusiastically.

The way his presence commands attention is almost intoxicating.

“Hey! You made it!” he greets, pulling you in for a quick hug. You can smell his cologne, fresh and invigorating. Suddenly, your shyness mellows into warmth, though a tiny inner voice reminds you that you’re about to play cupid.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your demeanor suddenly a mix of confidence and nervous fluttering. “Lando, this is my best friend Layla. You should hang out with her more—she’s awesome!”

Layla’s cheeks flush, and a playful smirk spreads across her face, but you can’t help but feel anxiety gnawing at you.

“Nice to meet you, Layla,” Lando says, his bright green eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope!” Layla giggles, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers as if she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands.

“Yes, definitely,” he chuckles lightly, shooting you a glance that feels a bit mischievous. “I always wanted to meet the friend who keeps you so grounded.”

You fight to keep your composure, trying to bury the layer of jealousy creeping in. “Well, tonight’s all about celebrating. We should hit the dance floor!”

Hours pass with drinks flowing and laughter echoing. You dance, reveling in the rhythm while keeping a watchful, almost possessive gaze on Layla and Lando. They banter, and you notice how easily they connect, the chemistry undeniable.

A part of you feels satisfied, hoping for the sparks to ignite. Yet, another part steals glances at the way Lando laughs—could he truly like her?

“Hey,” you hear a familiar voice call, pulling you from your thoughts. Lando approaches, his brow slightly furrowed. “I was looking for you. Want to join us?”

You swallow, glancing at Layla, who is leaning against her car, her smile bright. “Um, sure. Just one moment.”

He watches you, a look of concern crossing his face. “Everything alright?”

You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah but you know, Layla really lights up the floor.”

“She does,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “But I think you’re just as fun. It’s nice having both of you here.”

“Nice being here with you.” The words spilled from your mouth before you could bite them back.

Before you nerves could take over, you added, “You know, if you’re interested, Layla would love to get coffee or something. She’s crushing on you.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Lando’s face, followed by an understanding nod. “Yeah, I picked up on that. But honestly?” He paused, searching for your eyes. “I think I’d prefer hanging out with you instead."

Your breath hitched, and you felt a giddy thrill dance in your chest. “Really? You mean that?”

“Definitely,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “You’re fun to talk to, and we have a great vibe. I really like spending time with you.”

“Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that,” you stammered, a mixture of confusion and excitement swirling inside you. “I mean, Layla is great and all, but—”

“Look,” he interrupted gently, his eyes softening. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I’d love to get to know you better. Just you. No Layla.”

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden rays across the small living room where Lando and you sat. Your head ached, pounding in rhythm with your heartbeat, and the remnants of last night's festivities loomed over you like a heavy cloud.

Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t anything too wild, don’t worry. Just that you really like spending time with me… and that you might like me in a different way.”

Your face burned even hotter, a mix of embarrassment and panic flooding your senses. “Oh my god! Lando, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to… I don’t remember any of that! It’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t stress,” he said, a warm smile crossing his lips. “It’s not like you announced it to the whole party or anything. Just me, your trusted partner in crime. Besides, it's actually kind of sweet.”

His words were laced with a sincerity that calmed the storm brewing inside you, just a little. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy? It made my night a lot better.”

“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”

“You were not a mess, you were just… liberated,” Lando smirked, leaning back on the couch and folding his arms behind his head. “And honestly, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. In fact, it kind of makes me happy.”

“Ugh, Lando, you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you replied, your voice wavering as you tried to muster a hint of displeasure.

“No, I’m not.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy?”

“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”

“No you weren't.” His face lit up with a smile that was infectious. “First things first, though—let’s get you over that hangover.”

You chuckled softly, grateful for the shift in energy. “Right.”

“Exactly,” Lando said, standing up and moving to the kitchen. “How do you feel about greasy food? Because I believe that’s the primary cure for hangovers.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Always a solid choice. I could go for some toast or maybe even pancakes.”

“I can whip up something interesting,” he called back, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. “But it might not be traditional breakfast food. I’ve been experimenting a little.”

“Oh boy, this should be good,” you said, following him into the kitchen, the earlier tension still lingering, but now more like a hopeful promise than a cloud of uncertainty.

Lando looked back over his shoulder with that charming grin that made your heart race. “Just trust me. You’ll love it.”

As he rummaged through the cabinets, you felt a flutter of excitement amid the remnants of your embarrassment. Maybe today wasn’t just about curing a hangover. Maybe it was the start of something new—something sweet and just a little bit wild.

The kitchen filled with the aroma of sizzling ingredients, laughter, and casual banter, the gravitational pull of your connection drawing you closer.

And for the first time that morning, as the sunlight spilled in and the soft music played, you felt truly, undeniably alive. . . .

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the McLaren paddock as the roar of engines filled the air. You had arrived earlier than expected, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Lando had invited you specifically to watch him race, and you had decided to bring Layla with you, thinking it might make the day more enjoyable.

But now, as you watched the interactions unfold around you, you began to regret that decision.

“Look at them,” Layla said, nudging your arm and pointing toward the racing cars as they zipped around the track. “Isn’t it incredible? I still can’t believe we’re here!”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to suppress the tension knotting up your stomach.

Lando was on the other side of the paddock, surrounded by his team, engrossed in the pre-race hustle. He looked effortlessly cool in his race suit, flashing that signature smile that made your heart skip, and exchanging laughter with his crew.

You could see the admiration in Layla’s eyes, the way her gaze followed him, almost too fondly.

“Do you think he’ll win today?” Layla asked, her voice bright with enthusiasm. “I mean, he’s been so on form lately. This might be his season!”

“Yeah, I hope so,” you managed, but your heart sank a little at the way she spoke about him, as if Lando was already hers, as if you didn’t even exist in the context of their perfect relationship.

As the anticipation built, Lando finished up with his team and made his way over to you both. With a warm grin, he wrapped you in a tight hug, his comforting scent of fresh cedar and sunlight enveloping you.

“Hey, you made it!” he exclaimed, pulling back to look into your eyes. He waved cheerfully at Layla, who returned the gesture with a beaming smile.

With a playful tap on my shoulder, he kept his attention locked on you. “I bought your favorite snacks in case you get hungry. Just ask anyone in hospitality and they'll give them to you.”

“Oh, Lando, you didn’t have to,” you said, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“I knew you didn’t eat much,” he replied, with a hint of teasing in his tone. “Gotta keep you energized, right? What would the fans say if they saw you fainting in the stands?”

You chuckled, the lightheartedness of his comment managing to ease some of the tension in your chest. “I appreciate it, really. Thanks, Lando.”

“Of course!” He flashed that dazzling smile again, and your heart skipped yet again, wishing it wouldn’t betray you so. “Are you excited for the race?”

“Absolutely,” You said with a grin. “I can’t wait to see you speed past everyone. You’re going to crush it!”

Lando’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “I’ll do my best. And if all goes to plan, maybe we can celebrate afterward?”

“Definitely!” you replied a little too quickly. “That would be amazing!”

As Lando left to get ready for the race and you walked to the garage, Layla nudged you playfully. “Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?” she said, a teasing smirk on her face.

“How do he… look at me?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

“Like he's helplessly falling in love,” Layla teased, her tone light but with a touch of sincerity.

Your cheeks heated. “Oh, come on. He’s just friendly. You know how he is.”

“Friendly? Girl, he’s practically glowing when he sees you! It’s more than friendly.”

You didn't reply but her words were replayed in your head for most of the day. . . .

The roar of the engines and the excitement of the crowd filled the air as you settled into your seat, your heart racing along with the cars on the track.

You had been eagerly watching Lando drive with impressive precision, your admiration mixed with nerves as he expertly navigated the twists and turns of the circuit.

But as the laps dwindled down, your stomach began to rumble louder than the cars. You leaned over to Layla, who was just as engrossed in the race aside from the occasional glance in your direction.

“I'm going to grab some snacks Lando got for me. Want anything?” you asked, trying to mask your growing hunger with a light-hearted tone.

“No, I’m good! Can’t believe you have personal snacks from the Lando,” Layla teased, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you made your way to the hospitality room, the bright lights and lavish decor a stark contrast to the rawness of the track.

You felt a rush of nostalgia thinking about all the times Lando had surprised you with silly little gestures, like snacking during breaks or rescuing you from long queues at events.

As you entered, the atmosphere abruptly shifted. A tall, undeniably handsome man leaned casually against the bar, a cocky smile on his face that could light up the room.

He had perfectly styled hair and a confidence that was palpable. You instinctively felt your pulse quicken, but not in the way you were used to with Lando.

“Hey there,” he drawled, his voice smooth like velvet as he turned to face you. “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing all alone?”

You blinked, taken aback. It was the first time someone had openly flirted with you in public, and the realization made your cheeks flush.

“Um, just grabbing some snacks,” you stammered, glancing back toward the snack table. “Not much to see here.”

He moved closer, leaning forward on the bar, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I’d hardly call you ‘not much to see.’ You definitely stand out from the crowd. What’s your name?”

“Uh, it’s…” you hesitated, almost forgetting your own name for a moment. “It’s Y/N. And you are…?”

“Ethan,” he replied, extending a hand with an air of confidence. You hesitated but eventually shook his hand. “So Y/N, do you come to the races often?”

“More often than you’d think,” you answered, forcing a smile.

Your mind kept drifting back to Lando, his curly hair bouncing with every turn, his infectious laugh, his enthusiastic spirit. You couldn't help but mentally compare every detail of Ethan to Lando, a habit you couldn’t shake off.

“What do you think of the race so far?” Ethan asked, diverting your thoughts back to the present.

“Oh, it’s exhilarating! Lando’s doing really well,” you replied, your voice faltering slightly as you mentioned his name. “He’s a great driver.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Lando? The Lando?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a bit. He’s… well, great,” you added sheepishly, not wanting to divulge too much about your friendship.

“Sounds like you’re a bit smitten,” Ethan teased, his eyes sparkling with playful banter.

You cut him a look, a blush creeping up your neck. “No! It’s not like that. We’re just friends!” The resolve in your voice felt weak against the wistfulness laced in your words.

Would Ethan ever understand the depth of what Lando meant to you?

The race continued, and Ethan shifted his attention from the track to you. “While I might not have curly hair or that… infectious laugh, I can still try to impress you,” he said with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I can’t deny you’re charming, Ethan. But the thing about Lando—”

“Is that he’s Lando,” Ethan interrupted, his voice low as though the name itself held some power. “I get it. You’ve got this history that I can’t compete with.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair. The gesture seemed so reminiscent of Lando, yet distinctly different.

You couldn’t shake off how much every flick of Ethan’s hair and every smile he flashed felt in stark contrast to Lando’s bouncy curls and radiant grin. He smiled, sure, but it felt like a shadow of something brighter.

Just then, a staff member waved at Ethan from the other side of the grandstand, beckoning him over for photographs. “I’ll be right back!” he said, throwing you one last flirtatious grin before he slipped away.

You decided to take the chance to get back to your seat, curious as to why the cheers around the paddock were getting louder.

“Did you get your snacks?” Layla asked, her eyes still glued to the screen where the race was unfolding.

“Yeah,” you replied absentmindedly, still feeling the flutter of excitement from Ethan's attention. As you focused on the race, your thoughts danced back to him intermittently.

The atmosphere was electric; Lando was still in the lead for qualifying, much to the delight of the crowd, and your heart raced not just from the race—but from the momentary thrill of flirtation.

“Come on, come on, Lando!” Layla shouted, her enthusiasm infectious. You mirrored her excitement, your eyes following the sleek McLaren as it whizzed around the track.

When Lando crossed the finish line, securing pole position, the roar from the team was deafening. Everyone in McLaren was ecstatic, their cheers echoing the adrenaline that surged through the air.

"Yes, Lando," you said, smiling as the cameras captured the jubilant scene.

With Lando’s triumph, you watched as the team swarmed to congratulate him. You couldn't help but chuckle at his signature grin, the way he seemed to glow with the thrill of victory.

But as you looked closer, you realized that despite the chaos around him, Lando’s gaze was searching the crowd.

“Do you think he’ll spot us?” Layla asked, her eyes narrowing, trying to catch a glimpse through the throng of people.

“I doubt it. I mean, look at him! He’s the star of the show right now,” you replied, attempting to downplay the hope that fluttered in your stomach.

Still, your thoughts were interrupted as Layla suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd.

“C'mon! We need to get a closer look!” she shouted over the noise. Your heart raced for a different reason now, excitement growing as you maneuvered through the ocean of fans, team members, and media.

You just managed to catch a glimpse of Lando standing on his car, fist raised triumphantly in the air. “Look at him! He’s on top of the world!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the cheers.

“I know! He’s incredible!” Layla responded, beaming at Lando’s joyous display.

Amidst the clamor and celebrations, you decided to yell out, “Lando, over here!” hoping he might hear you.

To your surprise, he turned in your direction, a radiant smile breaking across his face. He scanned the crowd, and for a heartbeat, your eyes locked. His smile grew broader, and you felt warmth flood your cheeks.

Then, without a thought for the crowd around you, you made your way over to him. You squeezed through a chaotic throng of jubilant fans, the buzz of celebration swirling around you, until you reached the area near the barriers.

There he was, laughing and exchanging high-fives with the team. You couldn't help but grin as you approached.

“Lando!” you shouted over the noise, arms open wide.

He spotted you immediately, and a look of pure joy washed over his face. With almost immediate instinct, he lunged toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.

The strength of his excitement was palpable, and you squeezed him back, your heart racing.

He chuckled as he lifted you slightly off the ground. “I did it! I can't believe it!” he cried, setting you back down gently. “Did you see that last lap?”

“Are you kidding? It was amazing! You were so fast!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above the cacophony.

As he pulled back, he looked down at you with his bright eyes sparkling in the fading light. “I couldn’t have done it without all your support. You were here every step of the way.”

“You’ve worked so hard, Lando. You deserve this,” you said, your gaze drifting for a moment as you felt the warmth of his presence envelop you.

But then, staring at him with the backdrop of the ecstatic crowd, your heart felt odd. Being so close to him, you suddenly found yourself stammering. “I—uh, I mean… you really did great.”

Lando tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You alright?” He took a small step closer, his arm still around your waist, making you acutely aware of the physical closeness between you, which felt both comfortable and electric.

“Uh, yeah, totally fine,” you replied quickly, but your voice was barely above a whisper. You caught a brief glimpse of Lando's gaze flitting to your lips, and it sent a jolt of connection rushing through you.

“I just… I mean…” You struggled to finish your thought, the reality of your best friend stepping into the limelight making you feel both thrilled and ridiculously nervous.

“Just what?” he teased gently, his smile unwavering but those eyes—oh, those eyes were searching, digging deeper.

“Just… I didn’t think you’d get pole position! I mean, I thought maybe, like, third or fourth?” You laughed nervously, but his gaze didn’t waver.

“Hey, you should always believe in me!” Lando said, but there was a soft intensity behind his words that made your heart race all the more. “If I can get here today, then you have to promise you’ll always believe in me, no matter what.”

You paused, looking earnestly into his bright eyes, biting your lip. “I promise. But you’ve gotta promise me too; no matter how famous you get or how many trophies you win, you won’t forget about me, okay?”

“Never,” he said softly, but the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. He lowered his voice, his teasing demeanor fading slightly.

“You’ve been my constant through all of this, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Lando’s words lingered palpably in the air between you. You felt like the entire world had faded away, the crowd’s roars dimming into background noise. “I just… I could never replace what we have.”

“Exactly,” he said, moving a fraction closer, eliciting butterflies to flutter chaotic within your stomach. “Remember that time you thought I’d mess up in Monaco, and then I didn’t? I was convinced I could do it because you believed in me.”

You laughed, flushing at the memory. “Yeah, and you laughed at me for just being realistic.”

“Realistic is boring! You should know that by now. In racing, and in life, you gotta dream big,” he said, voice lightening as humor returned to the moment.

Just as you were about to respond, Zac approached. “Hey! Lando! Congrats, mate!”

He clapped Lando on the back, breaking the synergy you had created. “That was an incredible race! You crushed it!”

Lando’s hand left your waist as he turned to engage with Zac, his infectious excitement pulling him into the conversation. “Thanks, man! I can’t believe it! I was so nervous the entire time!”

You stepped back slightly, allowing the two of them to revel in the adrenaline of the moment. Lando beamed, his eyes sparkling as he spoke animatedly with Zac about the race strategy.

You watched as he made his way to get weighed and interviewed, your heart fluttering with a mix of pride and something else you weren’t quite ready to admit.

“Really, though, I don’t understand why you’re still on the fence about it,” Layla said, stepping beside you as you discreetly observed Lando.

Her voice was laced with curiosity as she nudged your shoulder. “He’s been so into you these past few weeks. Did you see how he looked at you when he saw you?”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall, your gaze still fixed on Lando. “Yeah, well, I saw that. But just because he looks at me a certain way doesn’t mean he likes me. He’s excited about the race, Layla. I’m just… there.”

“You’re not just ‘there.’ You’re practically glowing in his vicinity. It’s like he only sees you when he talks!” Layla insisted, her tone shifting to teasing. “You could light up an entire stadium with the way he smiles at you.”

“Okay, maybe he enjoys spending time with me,” you conceded, your cheeks warming at the thought. “But that doesn't exactly scream ‘I like you.’”

“Maybe not,” she replied, tilting her head as she watched Lando waving at fans and signing autographs, “but you’ve got to admit, there’s something more. I mean, look at him! The energy is off the charts!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the conversation light. “You know how he is. He’s a charismatic guy. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be amazing if he was like that with just you?” Layla’s voice softened, and she nudged you again. “Take the leap! Ask him how he feels—it doesn’t have to be a grand declaration.”

The sun was beginning to set over the racing circuit, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky as Lando settled himself into a high-backed chair in the paddock lounge.

It had been a day filled with adrenaline, the thrill of achieving pole position lighting up his thoughts.

The victory celebrations had been electrifying, but they were quickly overshadowed by a single purpose that surged through him like fuel to an engine—he wanted to see you again.

After the debrief, he had scanned the crowd, searching for you, his excitement building with each passing second. He had been talking about trying a new restaurant in town, and he couldn’t wait to explore it with you.

But the moment he stepped into the bustling lounge, he spotted you, and his heart sank just a little.

You were laughing.

Not just a polite chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh that lit up your face. You were engaged in conversation with Ethan Smith, the American actor who had been brought in as a special guest to support the race.

Lando could see the chemistry between you two—it was glaringly evident in the way Ethan leaned in slightly, his playful jokes coaxing out laughter and smiles that made your eyes sparkle.

“Hey, you look like you’re going to kill Ethan,” Layla, your best friend, teased as she sidled up to Lando, noticing the tense atmosphere that had suddenly enveloped him.

“Who?” Lando asked, tearing his gaze from you for just a moment.

“Ethan Smith? One of the most famous actors in the US? You don’t know him?” Layla's voice was filled with disbelief.

“Nope, and I don’t like him either,” Lando grumbled, eyes narrowing as he watched Ethan wink at you.

You giggled, and Lando felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. He stood up properly, unable to resist the pull any longer.

As he stormed over, Layla rolled her eyes, giggling softly in amusement. “Good luck, hero.”

Lando approached, trying to keep his expression neutral even while he could feel a competitive spark igniting within him.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” he said, forcing a smile as he sidled up next to you, “but I thought we were going to check out that new place together.”

You turned to him, your smile blossoming even wider. “Lando! You were amazing out there today! I still can’t believe you got pole position!”

“Thanks! It was a good day, but I’ve got even better plans,” he added, shooting Ethan a pointed look. “I’m taking you out for dinner remember.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered and amused by Lando's sudden intrusion. “Oh, is that so? Looks like you’ve got some competition, Norris.”

Lando’s jaw twitched slightly. “I don’t see any competition, honestly. You’re just a—”

“Just a what?” Ethan interrupted with a smirk, leaning back casually. “Just a huge star who happens to be having a lovely conversation with someone he finds incredibly charming?”

You giggled again, a sound that made Lando’s irritation simmer down just a fraction. “You guys, come on. I’m just trying to enjoy the evening here.”

“Exactly,” said Ethan, flashing you a disarming smile. “And you deserve it! Besides, I was just giving her some advice on how to handle the media.”

“Media?” Lando questioned, crossing his arms. “I didn’t realize you were running a media workshop.”

Ethan shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, just sharing the wisdom I’ve gained. It can be tough, huh? Like staying out of the limelight while everyone’s watching you, waiting for you to slip up.” He shot a harmless smile, but Lando felt the jabs in his stomach.

You frowned, sensing the tension. “You guys, let’s not make this into a competition. Lando, you were the one who wanted to go out tonight.”

Lando looked at you, and then back at Ethan. “Right,” he said, softening his tone as he fixed his eyes solely on you. “I just wanted to celebrate with you a little, that’s all.”

Ethan grinned, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Looks like you’ve claimed your prize, my friend. I was just enjoying the company. I’ll step back.”

Lando glanced at Ethan with a nod, appreciating the concession, but still feeling a little victorious as he turned back to you. “So, are you ready to go eat? That new place is supposed to be amazing.”

You looked back to Ethan, and then nodded, a sweet smile curling on your lips. “Yeah, I’m ready. Sorry for taking up your time, Ethan.”

Ethan waved it off with a playful wink. “No problem! Have fun out there, you two. Just remember, she was laughing with me first!”

As you and Lando began to walk away, he turned back to you with a raised eyebrow. “You know, just for the record, I think he was flirting with you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh please, he’s just a friendly guy! Besides, I already have someone I’m interested in.”

“Good,” Lando muttered, feeling a rush of relief and warmth flooding his chest. “Just making sure.”

He smiled down at you, his heart feeling a little lighter now. “Let’s go enjoy our dinner and make some headlines of our own, huh?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, linking your arm through his as you both made your way out, leaving the tension behind you.

Lando couldn’t help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you, feeling that maybe the only competition that truly mattered was the one he could embrace.

The evening air was cooler than expected, igniting a small thrill of anticipation as you stepped out of the car. You looked up at the restaurant’s glowing sign, your heart fluttering a little.

This place was newly opened, a fusion of modern and vintage charm, and you were eager to see if it lived up to its reputation.

As you adjusted your jacket, you glanced at Lando, who was standing beside you with an easy grin, his eyes sparkling like the city lights around you. Ever since he came into your life, each moment felt a little more vibrant, a little more alive.

“Have you seen the menu?” you asked, looking up at him, excitement bubbling in your voice.

He nodded, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “I did, and I can tell you right now, I’m going for that pumpkin risotto. It sounds incredible.”

You laughed. “Pumpkin risotto? It seems a bit heavy for someone who just came off a race, doesn’t it?”

“Hey, I need my carbs!” he retorted playfully, nudging your shoulder with his. “Especially after that race last week. I burned more calories than I could count, you know.”

“Fine, but I’m holding you to it. If you fall asleep in the middle of dinner, we might have a problem,” you teased back, stepping inside the restaurant.

The atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace—soft lighting, a hint of herbs wafting from the kitchen, and laughter echoing from nearby tables. You felt a buzz of excitement in your veins as you and Lando were led to a cozy corner table.

“So, what are you going to have?” he asked, picking up the menu and scanning it with genuine interest.

You shrugged, pretending to gauge the choices with utmost seriousness. “I think I’ll try the seafood linguine. It’s been ages since I’ve had good pasta.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, I love when you get excited about food. It’s one of those little things that makes you… well, you.”

A warm blush crept onto your cheeks. “I didn’t realize you were so observant, Mr. Norris.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I notice the important things. Like how you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, or how your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite books.”

“Okay, now you’re just getting mushy.” Your voice barely hid your embarrassment, but the fluttering in your chest was unmistakable.

You loved how easily he could make you smile.

Their server arrived, and you both ordered. As you waited, the conversation flowed easily, moving from playful banter about Lando’s racing experiences to sharing your dream travel destinations.

“I really want to visit Japan,” you said, your eyes dancing with the thought. “The culture, the food, the cherry blossoms… it seems magical.”

Lando leaned back, an amused smile plastered on his face. “You’re a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What about you? Where would you go if you had the chance?”

He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Probably somewhere quiet. Racing is intense, so I think I’d like a peaceful beach. Just to sit, reflect, and maybe learn to surf.”

“Surfing, huh?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You? I can already picture you wiping out spectacularly.”

“Oh, I’d definitely faceplant! But I’d get back up,” he said, his laughter infectious. “Just like on the track. That’s what makes it all fun, right?”

Before you could respond, your food arrived, and the divine aroma filled the air. You both dove into the dishes eagerly, enjoying the burst of flavors that danced on your tongues.

“This is amazing!” you exclaimed, savoring a mouthful of your linguine. “You have to try this.”

Lando took a bite of your pasta and nodded approvingly. “Wow, that’s really good! But I’ll stick to my risotto for now.”

As dinner continued, the conversation turned more personal. Lando shared stories of his childhood, his dreams, and the pressures of being in the limelight, while you opened up about your own aspirations and the challenges you faced.

“Sometimes, it’s overwhelming,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability lacing his words. “I mean, I love racing, but it can feel like everyone’s expectations are just weighing down on you.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his. “But you’re doing something incredible, Lando. You’re following your passion and inspiring people along the way. Just don’t lose sight of what matters.”

His gaze locked onto yours, lips curving into a smile that reached his eyes. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. I’m lucky to have you around.”

In that moment, you understood something deeper was blossoming between you—a connection that transcended the thrill of racing. It was a shared dream, a mutual understanding, and an undeniable chemistry that lit up the evening.

As the night wore on and the plates were cleared, you felt a mix of contentment and longing. The restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversations, but in your little corner, it was just you and Lando, caught in your own world.

“Next time, we should pick somewhere even more adventurous,” he suggested, a playful gleam in his eyes.

You leaned back, thinking of the possibilities. “That sounds perfect. Let’s make it a tradition.”

Lando grinned, and in that moment, you knew this was just the beginning of something beautiful. You just hope that your feelings won't get in the way. . . .

Layla’s coughs echoed through the empty hall as she wrapped herself tighter in a soft blanket on the couch, trying to drown out the sound of the outside world.

It felt bitterly unfair that her body had rebelled against her just when she’d been looking forward to watching the race with you.

“Hey, Layla,” you called from the kitchen, where you were prepping a few snacks. “I’m heading out now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

She turned her head slightly, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. “No, really, you should go. I’d just be a downer. Besides, I’d hate to get Lando sick. He’s got that race this weekend!”

“True, but…” you hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken words. “I mean, it would have been nice if we could all hang out together. I was kind of hoping you'd be there.”

Layla's smile was faint but brightened her pallid complexion. “I think you’re hoping for more than just ‘hanging out.’ You like him, don’t you?”

You sighed. “Maybe? I mean, after last night’s dinner… I just can’t tell if it was all in my head.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips, quickly followed by a cough. “You actually thought he was, what? Just being polite? You guys were practically flirting all night.”

“Flirting? Really?” You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I thought he was just being friendly. Charming, even. He’s always like that.”

“Yeah, but that look he gave you? Come on! It was like, 'how do I impress you?’ and 'you’re amazing’ wrapped in one.” She coughed again, and you felt guilt worming its way into your chest.

“Maybe he was just being a nice guy. Or he was bored...” you trailed off, unsure.

“Or maybe he’s into you, and you just don’t want to see it,” she countered, her voice softening. “You should go talk to him. Tonight could be your chance!”

You ran a hand through your hair, pondering Layla's words. What if? What if that spark you felt between you was mutual?

You took a deep breath as you nodded. “Okay. I’m going. Just to check in on him.”

“Good! Now go knock his socks off!” Layla replied, her enthusiasm cutting through her congestion. As you waved goodbye, a quiet mix of excitement and apprehension simmered in your stomach.

You arrived at the paddock, the unmistakable hum of excitement buzzing in the air. The energy of fans waving flags and donning their favorite team colors could be felt all around; it was palpable and infectious.

You took a moment to soak it all in, engaging with the fans milling about, sharing smiles and snapshots that captured the thrill of race day.

But amidst the joviality, you couldn't shake off the knot in your stomach. Lando had been acting differently lately, receiving an outpouring of negative comments and disproportionate criticism on social media.

It made your heart ache to see someone so talented being torn down and misunderstood, especially when he had always been so kind and considerate.

Today was supposed to be about racing, but you had a growing worry that Lando might not be able to shake off the weight that was pressing down on him.

Once you greeted the last group of fans, you made your way through the paddock with purpose. The noise faded slightly as you approached Lando's garage—his sanctuary, where he would armor up for the battles on the track.

The energy there was different; it was practically electric, the team buzzing around, making final adjustments to the car and going over the last-minute strategies.

Still, your focus was solely on Lando.

You searched for him in every nook and cranny, peeking into the bustling pit area and checking around the hospitality suites. But a feeling of dread began to take root when you couldn’t find him.

“Maybe he’s in his driver’s room,” you murmured to yourself, trying to push down the worry that lingered like a shadow.

At the door, you hesitated, your heart racing. You knocked once, then twice, listening for the sound of his voice.

When no response came, you slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, half-expecting him to be absorbed in some last-minute race preparation. Instead, the scene that greeted you was far from it.

Lando was curled up on the small, worn sofa, hands wrapped around his knees. He jumped slightly at the sight of you, his eyes wide, a mix of surprise and vulnerability.

“Oh Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, forcing on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You frowned at the sight of him, the dim light casting shadows across his face, revealing red-rimmed eyes. Your heart sank. “Lando… what’s wrong?”

You lowered yourself onto the sofa next to him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to ease your concern.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, the practiced lightness in his voice clashing with the heaviness in the room.

You could see the slight tremor in his hands, and your worry deepened. You reached out, tentatively placing a hand on his knee.

“You’re not fine,” you said softly, searching his face for the usual spark you loved. “I can see it. Talk to me?”

He looked away, glancing out the window at the racetrack where the cars were roaring around the circuit.

You followed his gaze but quickly turned back to him, determined to break through the wall he had put up. “Does it have to do with the race? Is it the pressure?”

Lando shook his head, something between sad and grateful passing over his features. “It’s not that. Just… a lot on my mind, you know?” His words were heavy, like anchors sinking in deep water.

“That’s okay,” you said, shifting closer to him. “I’m here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

He chuckled softly, though there was no humor behind it. “You’re always here, Y/N. That’s what I like about you. You make it easier.”

“Then let me help you,” you insisted gently, nudging him with your elbow while you tried to coax out a more genuine response.

“Can I get a hug?” you asked, knowing that physical closeness might be the best way to pull Lando out of the shell he’d crawled into.

He hesitated, eyes darting around the room like a deer caught in headlights. Then, hesitantly, he leaned into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

The warmth of his body was comforting, but as he buried his face against the curve of your neck, you felt the tell-tale signs of him holding back. You hugged him tighter, hoping he could feel the strength of your support.

“Let it out,” you whispered, holding him as he exhaled deeply, searching for words that seemed stuck in his throat. “Please.”

You rubbed his back in soothing circles, the silent rhythm cocooning you both in a bubble of softness. You didn't care if you were basically sitting on his lap; all you cared about was Lando.

“It's just... a lot,” he murmured finally, his voice muffled against you. “The media, the fans—they're relentless. I don’t think I can do it today.”

“Shhh…” you soothed, leaning back slightly to bring his gaze toward you. His big, dark eyes looked lost, a storm brewing behind them. “You’re stronger than they think. You love racing, remember? You belong out there.”

He looked away, swallowing hard. You could see the emotions swirling within him, battling between fear and desire, doubt and determination. “But what if I mess up again? What if…”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently. “What if you do great? You can’t let fear write your story for you. You have to give yourself a chance.”

His fingers found your waist as he held you closer, the intensity in his grip conveying everything words could not. “I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he confessed finally, his breath warm against your ear.

“You won’t,” you assured him, your heart racing with the intimacy of the moment. “Not with me by your side. You have me, Lando; I believe in you.”

With every squeezed breath, the hug felt too tight, arms closing around you, squeezing you, pressing together, inch by inch. You could feel his hesitance melting into something else, something deeper, something that felt like your very own electricity.

Lando was the unpredictable force that set your heart aflame. Those arms wrapped tightly around you felt intoxicating, like a drug that sent your pulse racing when the rest of the world faded away.

His phone buzzed, jolting you both back to the reality of the upcoming race.

“It’s Oscar,” he muttered, annoyance tugging at his features. “I don’t want to go; I can’t face the pit or the cameras.”

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze fully. “Well, I can’t do this for you, but I can be right there with you. You need to let them see how you feel. It’s okay to show vulnerability, Lando.”

He took a deep breath, and you could see the gears in his mind turning. “What if it’s not enough?” he muttered, but the fire in his voice was finally wavering.

“Enough for who?” you pressed. “You don’t have to perform for them. Just do your race, and I’ll be right there cheering for you.”

“Really?” He looked at you, the hope flickering in his gaze almost enough to make you lean in and kiss him.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You grinned, feeling the air shift between you, filled with the promise of something more.

Suddenly, Oscar’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, urgent and loud. “Lando, it’s time for the race!”

Lando groaned, clearly annoyed at being forced back into reality. “I guess I can’t hide in here forever, huh?”

“Nope. Now come on, let’s get you out there and show them what you’re made of.” You smiled, standing abruptly and holding out your hand to him.

He hesitated for a heartbeat before taking it, and you felt that warm pull between you. The brief moment of intimacy melded into something more solid as he clasped your fingers. He rose to his feet, tilting his head slightly to find your gaze once again.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice clear and stronger now. “For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably get a lot more nervous,” you teased lightly, nudging him playfully. “But seriously, let’s go. You’ve got a race to win.”

As Lando Norris crossed the finish line for the fourth time that season, the entire track erupted in a symphony of cheers and celebrations.

You could barely contain your excitement, adrenaline surging through you as you pulled off your headphones, the sounds of the race still echoing in your mind.

All that mattered was Lando—your brilliant, talented Lando.

You joined the staff, a vibrant mix of engineers, mechanics, and strategists, who were all equally charged up. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with the scent of burnt rubber and victory champagne.

You barely noticed the chaos unfolding around you as everyone rallied around the pit area. The crew, those unwavering supporters who had helped you get closer to Lando before, ushered you closer, their enthusiasm infectious.

“Come on! Right this way!” one of the crew members shouted over the noise, grabbing your hand and leading you through the throng.

You felt your heart race as the crowd’s energy swirled around you, anticipation making you giddy.

“Lando! Lando! Over here!” you shouted, waving your arms above your head like a lunatic.

A couple of crew members pointed in your direction, assisting the chaotic dance of the crowd.

And then it happened. His eyes met yours—green and bright like emeralds sparkling in sunlight. Time seemed to slow as he brightened at the sight, a genuine smile breaking across his face.

Without hesitation, he tore away from the crowd, sprinting toward you. The world blurred around you, the cheers fading until nothing mattered but the two of you.

When he reached you, it was like everything else faded away. He enveloped you in the biggest hug, his head tucked tightly against your neck.

Warmth washed over you, and you couldn’t help but laugh with pure joy.

“You did it! I knew you could!” you shouted, the excitement lacing your words as your arms wrapped around his neck.

His grip tightened as he pulled back to look into your eyes, the sexual tension thick between you. Lando's gaze lingered on your lips momentarily, and something about the way he held his gaze left your heart racing.

“I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on,” he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re my good luck charm.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you teased playfully. “You’ve got the talent, but I like to think I add a bit of magic.”

Lando chuckled, a sound like music that echoed around you, making your heart flutter. “Well, keep that magic close then, okay?”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, just a breath away from your lips. Your breath hitched as the world fell away again, your cheeks flushed with warmth and perhaps a bit more than embarrassment.

“I—I should let you go celebrate with everyone,” you said, almost feeling shy as you took a step back, the rest of the team rallying around him with congratulations.

“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze never wavering as he reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re coming with me, right? We have to celebrate together after!”

You blinked, surprised. “Really? Don't you want to celebrate with only your team?”

“I want to celebrate with you too!” He smiled, an infectious grin that made your heart skip a beat. “We’ll carve out our own little celebration. Just us after.”

Your heart soared. You nodded eagerly. “Okay!”

After the podium celebrations ended, the crowd dispersed, and the atmosphere filled with the crackling excitement of victory turned to an afterglow.

Lando Norris, with his signature grin and a trophy held high, had basked in the limelight, soaking up the roaring applause of the fans.

But that was only a moment for him; now, he was dragged away to the media center, leaving you standing at the edge of the pit lane, heart fluttering with the kiss he had planted on your cheek moments before.

You leaned against the pit wall, watching as he disappeared behind a barrage of cameras and reporters.

The warmth of his fleeting affection lingered on your skin, and a smile crept across your face despite the noise around you.

“Thinking about him, I see,” a voice interrupted your thoughts. You jumped slightly, caught off guard as you turned to see Ethan approaching.

He wore a knowing smirk, one that made your stomach twist of embarrassment.

“Oh, hi Ethan, what are you talking about?” You feigned nonchalance, crossing your arms.

“Lando, I’m talking about Lando,” Ethan replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Look, it’s clear you’ve got this enormous crush on him, but let’s not kid ourselves. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s just being friendly.”

Your heartbeat quickened for a different reason now—a mix of frustration and hurt. “What do you mean he doesn’t like me? He just won a race, and he kissed me, it was sweet.” You tried to sound more confident than you felt.

“Sweet?” Ethan scoffed. “That was just a celebratory peck. You know how he is with his fans. He flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean he has a thing for you.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing back against his doubt. “But it felt different. The way he looked at me before he left… Ethan, we’ve talked, we’ve laughed.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Look, you’re a great person, and I get that you want to believe he’s into you. But do you really think he’s capable of liking someone with all of this fame and pressure around him? He’s got a busy life, and girlfriends are just more trouble in that world.”

The frustration bubbled in your chest. “You sound like my mom,” you shot back, unable to hide the sharpness in your tone. “You don’t even know him like I do.”

“Fair enough,” Ethan said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you’ve got to admit, you’re setting yourself up for a huge disappointment here. Just... don’t get your hopes too high. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

His exasperation was genuine, but it only deepened your resolve. “And I wouldn’t want to live my life scared to try because of what ‘might’ happen.”

Ethan sighed. “Okay, I’m not trying to ruin your fantasy. I just want you to be realistic.”

“Realistic or pessimistic?” you countered.

He laughed softly, the tension in the air easing just a bit. “Alright, let’s call it realistic, then.”

“Lando doesn’t like you that way,” Ethan had said, concern etched on his features.

Those words replayed in your head like a broken record, setting a tight knot in your stomach every time you thought of the charming driver.

Just as you attempted to shake off the lingering doubt, a staff member materialized out of thin air, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “Lando wants to see you now.”

“Thanks!” you called out, excusing yourself from Ethan’s company. 

You felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you navigated through the hubbub of the garage, pushing aside doubts that had lingered since your morning conversation with Ethan.

Finally standing before Lando’s driver’s room, you raised your hand and knocked gently. “Come in,” his voice called out, warm and inviting.

You opened the door to find Lando leaning against the wall, a genuine smile lighting his face, so different from the frown of earlier that day. “Hi, champ!” you greeted him, a spark of joy igniting within you.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, standing upright as he approached you. “I’m really glad you’re here.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and you could feel an electric tension crackling in the air between you.

You both settled into a rhythm of lighthearted conversation, laughing and reminiscing about the week’s events, but underneath every playful jab and shared joke, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the chemistry that simmered between you.

Lando’s gaze felt heavy on you, filled with unexpressed words that lingered just beyond reach.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension as you stare into Lando's eyes, a mix of confusion and yearning coursing through every nerve in your body.

You can feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you, a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach as you try to decipher the myriad emotions swirling between you.

“So,” Lando began, his voice almost a whisper, eyes glistening with something serious, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

His voice quivers with uncertainty, the weight of his unexpressed feelings hanging heavily in the atmosphere, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your mind raced back to Ethan’s words: “Lando doesn’t like you, Y/N. He’s just playing around.” You shook your head slightly. You wouldn’t let yourself believe that.

You couldn’t allow the confusion between friendship and something more to blur in your mind; it was too painful.

He said, his tone firm yet tender. “I like you, Y/N.”

“You don’t, you can’t,” you protest meekly, recalling the stinging words Ethan had casually tossed your way, words that left a lingering ache in your chest.

The notion that Lando might not harbor genuine feelings for you feels like a betrayal, an unwelcome specter haunting the edges of this beautiful moment.

“Y/N—” His voice was earnest, but you shook your head, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay.

“Please don’t joke about that. If you don’t like me—if you’re just messing around—then don’t joke about it.” Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the bubble of hope forming in your chest.

“Why do you think I’m saying this?” he asked, his voice low and laced with emotion. “Why would I bother if I didn’t mean it? This isn’t just some casual fling for me. I care about you, and it’s driving me insane keeping it all bottled up!”

You took a step back, your back hitting the closed door. “Lando, please, you can’t say that!” Tears began to stream down your cheeks unbidden.

“Why not?” he challenged softly, moving closer again, his gaze intense. “Why can’t I? Are you really going to deny what’s been between us? You feel it too right?”

The truth in his words shattered your defenses. “Lando, I—” Your voice broke, and the words tumbled out, heavier than you imagined.

“I’ve never been someone’s first choice before. It’s hard to believe that you actually want me.”

“Then believe me,” he urged, his hand gently cupping your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “You deserve to hear it, and I mean every word.”

You melted into him, your head resting against his chest while he held you tightly��firmly yet gently, a safe haven amidst your unraveling emotions.

He didn’t flinch as the tears soaked his shirt.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, sniffling against his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose this.”

“You won’t lose me. Not ever,” he promised, pulling back slightly so he could look into your eyes. “Just give us a chance. I won’t hurt you.”

After a long while, you managed to calm down, your heart still racing but your breaths a little steadier. Lando pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes; the concern etched on his face warmed you.

“Can I kiss you?” Lando asked, his voice laced with just a hint of uncertainty, as if he feared this moment would evaporate into thin air.

Time seemed to stand still as you considered his question. You could feel the heat radiating between you, a magnetic pull that drew you closer.

This was the moment you had both been dancing around, the very reason for the tension that crackled in the air.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at the question, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. “Yes,” you finally breathed out, the single word filled with yearning.

His eyes sparkled, and he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t; if anything, your heart raced as he brushed his lips against yours, soft and hesitant at first.

His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of the feelings you both had kept hidden for too long. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a warm embrace, filled with the promise of love and acceptance.

As the kiss deepened, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. It was as if everything you had fought against—the doubt, the fear—melted away, replaced with the certainty of Lando’s affection.

You knew, right then and there, that you had finally found someone who would stay, who truly wanted you for who you were.

When the kiss finally broke, you rested your forehead against his, your hearts still racing from the intensity of it all. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you murmured.

“Don’t be,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I finally got to you.”

And in that moment, surrounded by a haze of newfound love and vulnerability, you both knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.

Something that you both deserved. . . . .

[plain-and-simple-ninja]

@guccimedusa maybeee don't come unto my post to call me stupid, I can do that myself (and i actually did already xD), thank you

i know close to nothing about working in the mines, especially in a fantasy/steampunk setting, but. what was silco even doing there?????

vander? sure, he's an absolute unit of a man, he has HUGE MUSCLES, he could probably dig in the bedrock with his bare hands without breaking a sweat. minecraft steve style

but silco??? SILCO???? walking toothpick silco? this noodle-armed skinny legend? he's a stiff breeze away from flying off ffs

this twink was built either for fashion or for leading a criminal underground empire, not hard labour. what. was. he. doing. in. the. mines.

felicia is more fitted to work in the mines than he is ffs.

seriously someone has to explain it to me asap

[lis-likes-fics]

spencer reid drabble

cw: mute!reader, american sign language usage, // means things said in sign

You look up as Emily comes in for the day. She’s a little late—only by a couple minutes—but it’s no big deal. She waves as she walks in. “Hey, everyone.” You all give her your greetings as she sets her purse on the desk (across from yours) with a hefty sigh. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Let’s see,” JJ says, twirling around in her chair and raising her cup. “Coffee, check. No case, double check. Doing great so far.”

You smile, leaning back in your own chair. You start to sign, your hands moving quickly as you go through a short recap. /Spencer got me this pastry from the bakery this morning, and it was so good./ Spencer’s voice easily narrates your movements.

“Sounds delicious,” Emily sighs, the sound so longing that you think she may be imagining a pastry of her own to munch on.

You’re selectively mute. As soon as you joined the team a few years ago, everyone loved you from the beginning. While they did their best in learning sign for you, Spencer was already a pro and did most of your translating.

He sits next to you—right now, at least. Hotch has gotten into the habit of separating the both of you when work gets slow. You indulge him and his distractions, even though you’re so quiet. You can’t be blamed! You like to listen to him speak. Who cares how much work is piling up?

It’s nice. You could go as fast as you wanted, and Spencer could always keep up with you. Sometimes when you were in the comfort of your own home, curled up on the couch with Spencer, neither of you would even say words. It would be a silent exchange where you would sit and “talk” for hours.

“Oh, damn it,” Emily mutters, sitting back in her chair and staring down at her lap. Her voice is laced with exasperation. “Not again.”

JJ hums. “Someone sounds cranky.” She peers over to get a better look at what’s going on.

A sharp breath passes through her. She starts toying with her belt, shaking her head briefly. “No, I just got this new belt a while ago, but it’s super crappy. This is my first time wearing it, and it keeps coming undone.” She fixes said belt, holding onto it like she’ll do it for the rest of the day if she has to. “If these pants weren’t so loose, I’d just take it off,”

You nod. Spencer speaks as you sign. “You should try Spencer.”

Everyone’s confused, including Spencer.

“‘Spencer’?” JJ wonders, eyeing you curiously, though amusement is shining in her gaze.

You have to hide your smile as you turn to Spencer, shaking your head gently. You go slow. /The clothes./

Spencer’s eyes immediately light up. “Oh!” he exclaims, turning back to everyone. He starts to sign as he speaks, and you’re not sure if he realizes he’s even doing it. “Sorry, suspenders. She’s saying you should try suspenders.”

Your laugh is silent, and you shake your head in your amusement. /Yeah. I used to wear them as a kid. I went through a phase./

They nod in understanding, but then Emily’s brow furrows and she chuckles. “Wait, do you call Spencer ‘Suspenders’?”

You shrug, glancing away. /They sound really similar…/ Spencer’s voice doesn’t match the quiet of your movements, but that’s okay.

He nods anyway. “Yeah. Emily, she calls you ‘Mystery’.”

Her face shines in surprise, a smile creeping on her lips. “Oh, cool,” she mutters.

JJ smiles big, leaning toward you and crossing her arms over her chest. Her interest is piqued now. “What about me?”

You purse your lips in the same way Spencer does, that awkward tight smile that you adore so much as you glance over at him. He mirrors your expression, clearing his throat and shrugging lightly. “She just signs J-2.”

Her shoulders drop a bit, her smile shrinking. “Oh,” she mumbles. A tiny sigh slips past her lips.

You rub your fist clockwise over your heart in apology. /It’s simple./

She shakes her head dismissively. “I get it.” She’s not really upset, but she had hoped for something more exciting. She turns back around to her desk to finish the work shining over her screen.

Emily looks at you past her computer, one brow raised with a curious grin. You forget how pretty she is sometimes. “Suspenders, huh?” she says quietly.

You shrug, your signs just between you and her. /He holds me up./ She laughs, muttering something about you being corny before she’s placing her attention back on her screen.

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[finsplurtz]

Can you do something with Bakugou and rape?

loosen up, yeah? — katsuki.bakugo

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Katsuki.Bakugo

— contents : drunk sex , non con , you get bakugo drunk n fuck him , this is kinda iffy i’ve never written noncon before oops also rlly short gulp

warnings : R@PE!!! be currrful

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Katsuki Bakugo is insanely pretty. that’s what you first noticed about him when you met him, he had a nice face, beautiful eyes. second thing you noticed was how cold and rude he was to everyone, even his friends, and you were going to be the first person he truly respects.

you got along with all the other people, izuku and shoto, uraraka and tsu, they alll loved having you around and you all had fun when you guys hung out.

then there was bakugo who didn’t give a fuck that you were there, he basically ignored you.

to end the night everyone went out for drinks, one thing you knew about bakugo was that he wasn’t a lightweight, it definitely took a lot to get him drunk.

you sat down next to him at the table and passed him a glass with wine in it.

“drink?” you ask. he hummed before taking the glass and downing the drink. he did this for a couple times throughout the night but then he stopped.

“guys i’ll go get more to drink, you guys still going?” you ask getting out of your seat. all of them were still for drinking and you looked at bakugo who shook his head.

“mh… bakugo help me with the drinks!” you pat his back innocently hoping he would go with you, took a while before he finally gave in with an grunt of annoyance.

“you don’t wanna get wasted tonight bakugo? i mean look at everyone else, they’re already pretty drunk…” you start conversation as you both wait for the drinks to come.

“no i don’t want to wake up with hangover.”

.

.

“cmon, have some fun! drink with us~” you coo. bakugo shoos you away declining your offer. you grab one of the drinks on the counter and firmly grab his jaw, looking down at him.

“just a bit more, kay? loosen up.” you smile as you bring a glass to his mouth and slowly pour it into his mouth, he brought his hand up to stop you but drank the alcohol anyway. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked away.

“there you go, let’s try to have fun tonight!” you grab the rest of the drinks and he follows after.

the whole night you tried to get this blonde as drunk as possible, passing him more drinks, playing drinking games, pouring them down his throat yourself. by the end everyone was on the brink of passing out, bakugo could barely stand without stumbling.

you were a bit dizzy but managed. you sent everyone home safely and kept bakugo with you.

“drank quite a lot, huh bakugo.” you ask the man in your passenger seat who didn’t respond. he noticed you weren’t taking the route to his house and looked at you, you just kept your eyes on the road.

you guys got to your home and you helped him get up and out the car. bakugo was still conscious, aware of his surroundings, you needed him to down just a couple more drinks…

right as he sat on your couch you got some vodka out and placed it in front of him.

“imma throw up…” bakugo said, some hiccups leaving him.

“expensive kind. tastes good” you popped down next to him and poured him a glass anyway. you had to force feed him the drink and he wasn’t really putting up that much of a fight.

he started to blank out and he barely recalls passing out.

.

bakugo groans as he wakes up, hands feeling around at the sheets of the bed he was laying on. he opens his tired eyes and his breathing pace picks up when he sees his legs propped up on your shoulders, your dick already buried deep in his heat.

“w..what..” he has a migraine, you’re grinning devilishly, running your hands all over his thighs.

“morning pretty..” you whisper.

“wha….are…s-stop..” the blonde is about to start freaking out as realization sets in, he’s pulling his legs back and you take the opportunity to push them against him into a mating press, slamming deep into him.

“NOUH..~!” His eyes roll back as your huge length digs deep inside him. Tears begin to fall down his face as more painful moans leave him.

“you look prettier when you cry, baby~” you taunt as you set a pace and keep fucking into him. He’s trying to say something back but he’s speechless, you’re pulling moans out of his like crazy and he’s never felt this good.

his legs are trembling and he’s gasping pathetically, tears blurring his field of vision. you move his legs and start to jerk him off with one of you’re hands, groaning at the feelings of him tightening around you.

“fuh- hm..~ stop…p..lease..” he begs, barely even able to look at you. you’re just going at it faster, watching his tummy bulge at how far in your cock is hitting him.

“just…a second.. haa..” you’re thrusts get wonky and you whine when you finally fill him up with your semen, a cry leaving him.

Nothing but panting could be heard as you both calm down. just as you were pulling out, the blonde gave you a hard kick to the chest. you roll of the bed throwing a coughing fit.

you look back at him with a glare and see him filled with tears of rage. he’s covering his body up and shaking.

“so beautiful..”

a/n: wait ts so buns mb😭😭🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿

[typicalopposite]

fuck it friday

Ok so technically it’s still Thursday but it’s like REALLLLY late Thursday! and @beanarie asked for 9-15 sentences of amnesia fic so to kill two birds with one stone I’m giving 15+ quite a bit more to make it a good little snippet 🫣 (also it’s a Thanksgiving scene sooo 🫶)

“Tommy!” Howie exclaims happily, leaving his arms open long enough it’s clear he’s waiting for a hug. With that big cheesy overly happy smile, who is Tommy to deny an old friend. He laughs as he leans down into Howie’s embrace, and tries to swallow the lump that feeling so welcomed back into their family causes. Maddie is already at Howie’s side ready for her turn and after she pulls him in he feels little arms wrap around his legs. Jee smiles up at him, and he— okay, he’s a little glad he came. 

Eddie and Chris get to him next and it’s the first time he’s seen Chris— that he remembers— since he left for Texas. The kid’s creeping up on being his height, it shouldn’t make him emotional; it does make him emotional. “Hey Tommy!” Chris says with a bright smile, and damn it’s good to see him genuinely happy again, Eddie too. More hugs ensue. This is… nice. He thinks he might even be able to drown out the inevitable awkwardness coming if he keeps riding this high. 

Bobby is out back deep frying the turkey and Athena catches Tommy when he’s dropping his measly pan of devil eggs and store bought rolls off in the kitchen. “You came!” she says with a shock smile. “Oh, I’m glad!” She opens her arms and then it’s more hugging— passing him off to Karen, and even Hen. That’s just about everyone, Tommy thinks… 

“Oh… Tommy!” 

God, he really hopes he is able to control his face. 

Dylan pulls the patio door shut behind him, and makes his way over to where Hen and Tommy are still lingering in the kitchen while she fills him in on everything recent with Denny and Mara. Try as he may, he can't stop the tension tightening every muscle in his body as the lone stranger (to him) approaches. “Uhm, hey…” he replies, trying to not sound hostile… wondering if he sounds hostile anyway. 

“You know,” Dylan says, a surprisingly genuine smile spreading across his face. “We have yet to be properly introduced.” He extends his hand— Tommy does a quick scan of it to make sure there’s no shock button— and he waits patiently for Tommy to make the next move. He swallows every ounce of pride, jealousy, and resentment and shakes the guy's hand. He is met with as firm a grasp as he gives and Dylan’s smile doesn’t falter when he says, “Better late than never thought, am I right? Come on, Buck is out back.” 

Tommy feels his brows pulling together, and Dylan nods towards the glass door where Evan is staring in at them. He quickly waves once he is caught, and Tommy really hopes he can control his face as he waves back, feeling the flood of butterflies he has no right to still get… especially not standing three feet from Evan’s boyfriend. Dylan puts a hand on his shoulder, nudging him in the direction of the door; he nudges him in the direction of Evan, and can’t help but feel a little weird being pushed towards his ex by his ex's new boyfriend. 

Bobby hugs him as soon as he steps outside, which is expected; Evan stalls for only a moment before hugging him as well, which was not. Tommy can’t help but try to sneak a peak of Dylan. He half expects him to speak up, or lash out… What right does Tommy have to hug Evan? He doesn’t seem bothered in the least. He lets Evan get his hug, then reclaims his spot at Evan’s side, and although there’s not much Tommy is feeling too particularly thankful for in this very stressful and confusing point in his life… he’s thankful Dylan doesn’t appear to be threatened by him in Evan’s life. 

The day passes far smoother than Tommy had anticipated, and the Dylan of it all is nowhere near the thorn in his side Tommy had thought he would be. In fact, Dylan is— fuck, he is great, actually. as much as it pains him to admit it, Dylan really seems good for Evan. He is charming, and funny. He gets along with everyone; he talks about Evan’s parents like they get along well, too. Tommy wants to find things to be jealous of, but he makes himself so likable it’s hard to justify not liking him. Most importantly he looks at Evan like he hung the moon, and can make Evan smile and blush the way Tommy used to be able to do... 

At least he calls him Buck. At least Tommy gets to keep Evan. He supposes he’s thankful for that, too.

and throwing in the tags for those who want to join in and those who are following the fics progress (let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

@30somethingautisticteacher @sunnywithachanceofbi @nine-one-wanton @herrmannhalsteadproduction @judymarch15

@onthewaytosomewhere @lavenderleahy @bangpop91 @hyperfocusthusly @weewookinard

@beanarie @leashybebes @somethingaboutfirefly @silversky9 @bucksxkinard

@sweaters-and-silly @quintessenceofdust88 @sierrarreads @saibowtie @kinardsevan

@unhingedangstaddict @portinastorm @ladyeyrewrites @rubydaiquiri

@mmso-notlikethat @a-mel0n @rdng1230 @fenrirscarsback

[sparethedreamer]

helloooo!

im an alter in a traumagenic system and i just wanted to say that endos are totally systems

and them identifying as systems is totally valid!!

systems and alters are formed through all sorts of ways, not just limited to trauma

endos aren't just singlets with a spiritual belief that they have multiple personalities/identities, but actual systems

many labels are shared between our communities, aren't exclusive, and aren't hurting anyone <3

all of our spaces would be a lot safer if we all accepted and welcomed each other, i hope these gaps will close

someday we'll look back at all this hate, exclusion, and close mindedness in disgust and regret /gen /pos

it's sad that there are those who don't understand how their own biases and refusing to listen and understand are causing harm to their own communities

also, it's easier to have "good neighbor" experiences when you don't immediately shout at your neighbor to get off your lawn or that they don't belong here. i can't expect neighborly behavior unless that's what i'm giving.

imagine you're living in a human apartment complex and an alien comes in and says they want to live here too because we might be from different planets but we're the same where it matters and they'd love to live next door. you tell them they're welcome! you know that despite the bigotry and hate they've received from humans like you, they're still kind, smart, and community driven. they're not trying to be something they're not, but they do recognize the similarities between you and know your communities are stronger together. they know they belong here just as much as you do. them being here doesn't take anything from you. them using words like "people", "sapient", "zplorgzz", or"friend" isn't theft or wrong. they're not even originally all your words anyways.

probably a bad analogy but i hope you can understand ^-^

i hope you have a nice day, and please know that because words aren't said harshly or with intended malice doesn't mean they aren't invalidating, insulting, or wrong. i hope that everyone, regardless of origin, knows they are valid, that they belong, and that this is a place for all those who wish to be good neighbors.

im just trying to lessen the hate on both sides and fix misinformation

endogenic systems will not be seperated from the system experience, ever. they are systems too. please welcome them in as if you would a good neighbor in the same apartment complex as you.

[daemour]

Kadō [l.sm] 1/2

➵Title: Kadō ➵Pairings: Demeter! Dokyeom x Florist! Reader ➵Greek God: Demeter ➵Genre: Fluff, very light angst ➵Rating/Warnings: T for Teen, No Warnings ➵Word Count: 1333 ➵Summary: When the most notorious divorce lawyer in the city becomes a regular at your little flower shop, you're pretty sure it's a bad omen, for both your love life and your store. But with each passing moment, it looks like your flowers are doing better than ever…and perhaps your heart beats just a bit faster seeing Lee Seokmin.

-

This was a collab [The 13 Gods of Olympus] hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions <3 it may or may not have been a little close to cutting it at the deadline but I digress KJGSHDKJGHKJG

this is my first true svt piece and I'm honestly kinda proud although I wasn't able to put everything I wanted into it ^^ I hope u all enjoy anyway!

-

It’s the third time he has shown up in your flower shop. Lee Seokmin, the divorce lawyer in town. He’s never lost a custody case, or whatever it is he does. He’s both hated, and loved, by the population.

And he won’t stop coming into your flower shop.

At first, you paid it no mind. Perhaps it was his mother’s birthday. Maybe for a client going through a particularly tough battle. But he never bought anything. Just browsed quietly.

You wouldn’t say you were particularly superstitious, but that has to be bad luck, right? You check your watch. Five minutes before closing. He’s never come in this late before…and this means you have to politely tell him to get out.

“Ah, excuse me?” you call out, voice timid. Silence. He didn’t hear you. “Mr Lee?”

 Okay, now you can’t tell if he’s just ignoring you. You walk up next to him, hands hovering in the air awkwardly as you decide whether to tap his shoulder or not. “Excuse me?” you try again, and he finally snaps his attention to you, a bright smile on his face. He doesn’t look quite as cold as he does in all the news articles.

“Oh, apologies. I didn’t quite hear you. You must be the owner of this store.” He nods his head in acknowledgement.

You offer a small smile, lowering your hands. “I am. I just wanted to let you know that we’re closing in five minutes so…” you trail off, trying not to be rude. “I’m not trying to kick you out! Just wanted to let you know,” you repeat.

Mr Lee smiles even wider, reaching out to offer his hand. “Of course, I understand. I’ll be coming around more often, so I should introduce myself though. I’m Lee Seokmin, and you?”

Reaching out to shake his hand, you can’t help but take note of how warm it is. “LN YN. Nice to meet you properly, Mr Lee.” He shakes his head, eyes crinkling. “None of that. You can call me Seokmin. It’s nice to not be called so formally out of the court…I work in law.”

“I know,” you respond automatically before realising how that sounds. “Ah! Not that I stalk you or anything. I just…pay attention to the news and you tend to make headlines.”

Seokmin chuckles. “I understand. It’s hard to not know everyone in a smaller town, even if you never actually meet them. But there’s something about your flower shop….it’s very comforting. I like coming here after work, so I think you’ll probably be seeing more of me.”

I smile shyly. “I’ll have to look forward to that, Mr…Seokmin.”

–

Seokmin doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He can’t stop going to that little flower shop on the corner, loving how the owner’s eyes brighten as she sees him. He hasn’t taken notice of a human in centuries…no, millennia.

He’s kept his focus on his human career, wading through papers upon papers of messy moral relationships that remind him a little too much of Persephone. But you're like a breath of fresh air.

As time went on, mortals changed. The amount of flora and fauna decreased, but your shop felt like the Gaia he remembers.

He finds himself in there more and more these days. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees you humming to yourself as you arrange bouquets, and it’s on the days when you’re preparing wedding flowers and humming love songs that he lets his power leak out from the tips of his fingers and toes, and the flowers bloom just a bit brighter, for just a little longer.

It’s hard to keep his feelings subtle, not when you look at him with such gentleness in your eyes and always give him a flower before he leaves. He keeps them all in an unending state of bloom in his bathroom, and Persephone always teases him when she sees them. But he can’t keep himself away, allowing himself one other pleasure in his dreadfully boring life.

All he does is deal with case after case of depressing marriages, his heart breaking every moment he stays in the court. But your shop has given him a breath of fresh air, and he can feel life return to him when he sees your bright aura. His kin cannot fault him for that, and if they try, then he’ll just have to strip humans of their springs and summers again.

–

Glancing at the clock perched on your desk makes your heart race a little faster. You look forward to every visit Seokmin pays you, every shift feeling like a countdown. Right on cue, the bell rings and Seokmin walks into the store, breathing deeply as he takes in the flora. “Hello, YN,” he greets you warmly, voice softer than usual. “How was your day?”

Your eyes crinkle as you smile back, offering him a small nod. “Same as always. Not very busy today, which was nice for me to sit back and relax. How was the office?”

Seokmin shrugs, his eyes unfocusing as he remembers his long day. “It was…eventful. I had a case today and it didn’t go well. I can’t really go into detail.” He sighs through his nose, loosening his tie. Your eyes follow the movement as a pout pulls at your lips.

“Well, that’s not good,” I hum, cocking my head slightly. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

It’s not usually how his visits go, and you’re surprised at yourself for going off-script, but the stress in his eyes makes you want to help. And tea is the only way you can think of.

His gaze softens as he looks at you, some of the tension in his eyes melting away. “I’d love that, YN. Thank you.”

To hide your warm cheeks, you turn around quickly to head into your breakroom. “I hope you like chamomile, Seokmin. It’s the only kind I have left.” Seokmin nods happily, and you turn to raise an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

It takes him a moment, but as soon as it clicks, Seokmin scrambles after you, a wide smile on his face. The break room is small, but cozy, with plants lining the shelves and homemade mugs sitting in a line on the counter. You quickly put some water in the kettle, letting it do its work as you offer Seokmin a seat. “Sorry it’s not much,” you sigh, looking around. “I haven’t cleaned back here i a bit since it’s usually only me.”

Seokmin shakes his head, sitting on the stool offered to him with a quick flick of his coat. “No worries at all, YN. It’s very lovely here, very relaxing.” His stiff stance betrays him, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I can see that, with your ramrod-straight back,” you tease, and Seokmin quickly adjusts his posture. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite, and the plants don’t either.”

At your little joke, Seokmin finally lets his body ease as he lets out a loud laugh. “That’s good. I’m not sure what I’ll do if it turns out your plants are maneaters.” He leans forward on the table. “Now, as you’re treating me to a nice cup of tea, I must ask…how would you like to grab dessert with me sometime?” His voice grows soft towards the end. He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous, not even when his daughter leaves for six months and the world turns cold and grey.

You stop your steps midway to the kettle, looking back at him with wide eyes. You don’t want to read too much into it, but the softness in Seokmin’s eyes tells you your hopes aren’t unfounded. “I…I think I’d like that, Seokmin.”

At your words, Seokmin can’t help the bright smile from growing on his face, and the plants in the other room bloom so bright as a warmth fills his heart. Perhaps there is some good with the mortals after all.

[deleteddewewted]

Supermarket Romance p2

Modern! Titus x Gn! Reader

S: Titus goes back to the supermarket as he needs ingredients for a new recipe that his gyms security guard recommended trying. He gave himself the liberty to wear a hoodie this time as he wasn't feeling all too well. He wasn't expecting to see you again nor that you asked him a question. (Cairon makes a brief appearance here!)

W: PTSD episodes, Depression, Anxiety Disorders, Reader is a broke Artist, Titus works as an Analyst for a company, Ableist comments (From Titus and to Titus)

Previous / Next

He didn't know what to think about his appearance at the moment. If anything, he was trying to not think about it. He was wearing shorts, which he usually wore for semi-formal occasions, and a hoodie, which he had for the gym. His leg was acting up again, the weather and his lack of use of his knee brace created bigger problems for him. He knew he should have worn it the last time he worked out but he felt too embarrassed to wear it out in public. He thought people would stare or pass judgment if he did so he left it in his gym bag. He didn’t think to much about it anyways. He just needed to grab a few things to make a recipe that the security guard at the gym he goes to suggested.

Cairon was a hulking figure, especially for a security guard. He was an ex veteran like himself, was younger than Titus by a few years, and he was discharged after losing his arm during an explosion. The man seem to take his injury in stride unlike Titus. He constantly encouraged Titus, was motivational to all who walked in, made sure to keep everyone in check. Cairon was a ray of sunshine that Titus couldn’t seem to damper. Not that he wanted to but it was a little much at times. Cairons eagerness to help and be there became overwhelming at times but Titus also welcomed it. The man approached him first after all, made sure to help him find the locker room and the private gyms if he ever needed a moment to himself. Titus thought the younger man might have picked up on his disability and that’s why he was being kind but no, Cairon picked up on Titus’ discomfort for overly loud and crowded spaces. Ever since their first meeting Cairon has been a constant presence in Titus’ life and the older man appreciated that. He even told Titus that he should wear his brace and that not wearing it would just make things harder on himself.

Titus was paying the price for it now. His knee more than anything was killing him and his entire leg felt like it was ready to collapse under him while he gauged the prices of the cabbage. He leaned on his other leg instead, hoping to gain some relief.

"Are they any good?" A voice asked from beside him. He turned to look at the person but didn't see anyone. He looked down instead and found you staring at the cabbages.

"Im thinking of getting one but im not sure. I don't think ¢.76 the pound is worth it for a cabbage." You rambled on. He didn't know what to think, he kind of just blinked at you hoping that his brain would help him push the words out of his mouth. What was he supposed to say? This wasn't the first time he's talked to you but this was the first actual conversation he was contemplating having with a stranger.

"Hmm, i think its cheaper at the corner store." You turn around and just leave, not even bothering for a response from him.

Titus just watches you leave, the words stuck in his throat as he turns back around and processes what happened. Your scent was something he picked up. You smelled nice, earthy even. He wanted to ask what cologne or perfume you used. Maybe it was your body wash. It was comforting and reminded him of one of his bunk buddies who was into hygiene and always looking presentable.

He didnt keep track where you going but every so often he did bump into you. You seemed to be on a tighter budget than last time, only grabbing a few items that where on clearance or expiring soon. He noticed that you had a lot of meat in your basket and ziplock bags. Maybe you were freezing them so they would last longer, he thought to himself. Now that he thought about it, his recipe did call for meat and he was yet to get any.

His hands began to sweat and his hands trembled as he thought about it. He could use this as his excuse to talk to you, to introduce himself and be pleasant. His therapist had suggested he start socializing with other people outside of his work and gym. He could do this, he told himself. He siked himself up, took a few deep breathes, and walked over to you.

You were looking at some potatoes, thinking if it was worth buying them since there was no way you would be able to preserve them. Your fridge was having issues and you were worried about the moisture in your apartment. Either way, the potatoes would mold quickly and it would be waste unless you tried eating only that for the next week and a half. The thought made you sick.

“Excuse me.” A man’s voice came from behind you. You jolted before moving to the side hoping you hadn’t taken too much space so he could grab whatever he wanted from the produce section. But he never reach forward to grab anything. Instead, he was facing you. You swallowed hard before turning to face the man. It was the kind stranger who gifted you the ice cream from last time. He looked menacing, he practically loomed over you and his clothes didn’t help disuade that feeling.

“Hey there, stranger.” You replied. You hoped that your nervousness wasn’t noticeable. You felt like you were practically sweating buckets. His gaze was intense, his eyes half lidded and looking into your soul as his face betrayed no emotion.

“Is there any good sale on the meats?” His question didn’t feel like a question, more like an observation. You didn’t know how to feel about it. The man gave ex con or ex military vibes and it was starting to make you nervous just how big he was.

“Uh…yeah, there’s some good deals. It’s half off if you get the clearance stuff. You just need to ask butcher for the cuts you want.” You felt awkward and out of place. Not an unusual feeling but it was made more intense by the man in front of you. He didn’t even react to the information you age him, he merely blinked at you before nodding his head and thanking you.

“Thank you for the information. I’ll make sure to check with the butcher.” He looked like he was going to take his leave, his body already turning to leave, but he stops himself.

“My name is Titus.” It was your turn to blink at him. Titus. The name was so… pristine. Elegant even. It sounded so modern yet old and it flowed with a nice bounce. You could practically taste the pronunciation of his name on your tongue.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Titus. I’m Y/n.” You offered your hand to him but he ignored it and walked away instead. You sighed and turned back to the potatoes.

“Titus, what a lovely name.” You thought to yourself. You with an amused smile on your face, you walked towards the cash register to check out.

Titus sped walk away from the produce area as quickly as he could. His leg was killing him and the muscles in the appendage were set ablaze. But he ignored it. His heart was pounding in his chest and the air around him felt heavy. He spoke to someone new today and they didn’t run away! A small spark of joy bloomed in his chest as he went over the interaction in his head. You smiled at him, you spoke to him, you met his gaze. You weren’t disgusted by his appearance but instead you treated him like he was any ordinary man. It was thrilling to him. And yet, he wondered if you stayed cause you truly wanted to speak to him. His joy dwindled but he did accept that it was progress. His therapist was sure to be thrilled with this new development. In the mean time, he mulled over your name. He thought it was nice and fitting for you. You looked like your name, for however silly the thought was. A lovely name for a kind looking person. He wondered if this meant you would speak to him the next time you meet. If he could approach you. Would that ok? Would it be welcomed? Doubts consumed him but he pressed on. He made his way over to the small butcher shop in the store and asked for their clearance cuts. He grabbed a few he liked or thought would be easiest to cook and made his way to the front of the store to pay. He couldn’t spot you in any of the lines but he did spot you waiting at the bus stop once again.

He bagged and grab his things and and this way back to his car. As he loaded his things he noticed you get on the bus with all of your bags and leave. He wondered what kind do life you lived. What minute inconveniences might you have in your own life? What were your motivations? He shook his head and closed his trunk.

He sat in the drivers seat and gave himself a few minutes to prepare for the drive ahead of him. He hoped that this issue would go away sooner rather than later like his therapist had told him. But he knew better than to rush himself to drive when he wasn’t feeling well. He didn’t want to have to stop on the side of the highway again because of an episode. It would make the trip twice as long and twice as painful.

[slight-gaming-addict]

Hello! Can I please request for prompt 6 one shot with Idia x reader please? Idk if I’m doing this right so please ignore this if I am

~ you're unaware of the past inhabitant still living in your newly bought house ~

pairing: idia shroud x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of a dead body and blood, supernatural elements, gunshot wound, possible grammar errors, probably more warnings

word count: 1.4k

event masterlist | main masterlist | ko-fi

ʜᴀᴜɴᴛᴇᴅ

Everyone you know called you crazy for even thinking of getting a house like this. The cursed house that hasn't had a single owner keep the house for more than a month before it was back on the market again. The real estate agent was ecstatic as she led you through the house after your interest in it, showing you each and every thing that's been done to it over the last year that it's been on the market to try and attract new buyers.

With all the new modern renovations that have been done, you would've thought that it would be at least double the price than it was, and you soon learned why it was so cheap on the market.

Some years ago there was apparently a gruesome murder of a young man that happened in the house, and it's never been the same ever since. Every single person that's stayed in this house has left as quickly as they arrived, claiming that they'd awake to things being thrown around the house and voices echoing throughout making it known that they were not wanted there.

You've never really had a paranormal experience before, but you'd be lying if you weren't the slightest bit curious if the stories about the house are true. You don't have another option anyway, the house being the only place in the neighborhood that's in your budget, and you don't really see the appeal of sleeping in your car.

The real estate agent is practically bouncing on her feet as you officially sign the deed to the house as well as the check for the down payment that you still feel should have been higher, but you're not going to complain.

A couple of weeks later, you have practically everything unpacked—not that you had much—and are settling into the house nicely. You haven't had anything that they said has happened in the house happen to you, so you figured the rumors were just that, rumors.

It isn't until late one night that something happens. You're rinsing off a dish in the sink when a mug that sits next to you on the counter suddenly falls off and shatters to the ground.

You jump, dropping the dish you had in your hand into the sink. You look down at the smashed pieces on the floor next to your feet and take a step away from the glass. Looking around the room, you see nothing out of place that would cause it to happen, and you didn't think it was that close to the edge of the counter, but after a couple minutes of contemplating how it happened, the only reason you come up with is you accidentally bumping it, even though you don't remember doing it.

The next day, you're back in the kitchen making breakfast when the blender suddenly starts from across the room. You jump once again at the sudden noise, turning around from what you're doing. You walk up to the blender with confusion, not even remembering plugging it in. Trying to turn it off, you hit the power button, but the blender continues to whirl. You hit all the buttons, but nothing seems to turn it off. Eventually, you reach behind it and yank the power cord out of the wall, letting the blender finally come to a stop to plunge the room into a sudden silence.

You shake your head, trying to rationalize it, but not knowing how. You guess faulty wiring could come into play, though it's not that likely it's the only excuse you have. Your mind wanders to the rumors of the house and the reasoning why countless other people have left previously, but you don't have a choice right now, needing somewhere to live. You just hope you don't regret the decision to stay later down the line.

A week passes and small things keep happening around the house, things being knocked off counters, lights turning off as soon as you flip them on, and furniture being shifted from its position. The thought of leaving crosses your mind a couple of times, but all the things that happen seem so minor that you don't feel like you're in any real danger.

It isn't until one night that it changes. You're walking into your bedroom from the bathroom, getting ready to go to bed when you hear a low voice emitting from the corner of the room.

"Why won't you just leave?" Your heart jumps into your throat as you turn to face the noise, letting out a small scream as you see a figure in the corner.

Idia lets out a small scream similar to yours when he realizes that you can actually see him in the room. "You can see me?" He asks in disbelief as you push yourself against the opposite wall with wide eyes.

"How did you get in here?" You say, his questions not even registering in your mind that's completely scrambled at the moment. You would have probably recognized him from the images online from all of the articles about the house if you weren't too busy thinking someone broke into your house.

"Hey, wait-" He tries to speak, but you're preoccupied with grabbing the first thing you can and swinging it directly at him. You watch the object phase right through him and hit the wall behind him before dropping to the ground. Your eyes widen as a puff of light smoke covers the area where he just was before dissipating completely.

"What the-" Your eyebrows crease in confusion, looking at the now empty spot where the person just was.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't throw things at me." His voice sounds from next to you this time causing your body to jump and spin around, finding him standing next to your bathroom door this time.

"How did you-" You look back at the spot he just was in wonder as to how he got across the room without you seeing him. Looking towards the person once again is when his appearance finally clicks into your brain. "You're Idia..." As soon as the words leave your mouth, he's groaning out in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm the poor guy who was murdered in his own home because he couldn't hear the intruder walking into his room from his stupid noise-canceling headphones." You just stare at him, trying to process the information of you physically speaking to someone who's not alive.

"But, how are you here?" You ask, your voice quiet as if you're scared of scaring him off.

"I wish I knew." He sighs out folding his arms over his chest in almost a defensive position. The last thing Idia remembers was sitting in front of his computer, ready to drown out the world around him and finally use his noise-canceling headphones when suddenly everything went dark.

He didn't hear the person breaking in through the headphones and the next thing he knew, he was staring down at the scene in front of him. His body was lying face down on the keyboard, blood dripping down onto the floor from the gunshot wound in his head, and even from seeing all that, he was the most upset about his brand new headphones getting blood all over them, and the very expensive keyboard getting completely ruined.

He's been wandering around the house ever since, watching the police come in and do their investigation, and the first people to move in since the incident. He didn't even mean to do it at first, but he knocked a painting off the wall when he saw them get settled in what was once his room. He saw their reaction and figured he could continue to move and knock things over, trying, and succeeding to run them out of the house.

He'd do it for every single person that would move into the house, working flawlessly, until you that is. He's not even sure how you're able to see him, no one else could.

"You're the reason why no one's been able to stay in the house." You say, everything starting to come together in your mind, like seeing a ghost, or spirit, or whatever you'd call it, standing right in front of you is an everyday occurrence.

"Yeah, well they were loud. Especially the ones with a newborn, it was like a screaming fest in here, I couldn't even hear myself think." Idia speaks out in a small huff.

"You realize every time you scare someone off you're just going to have to deal with more people coming in to check out the place." You say, looking at him expectedly.

Idia opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but then closes it again.

"Fine," he says after a few seconds.

"So I can stay?" You ask with a small smile. Idia just sighs out before disappearing through another light mist. You're taking that as a yes.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

buy me a coffee ♡

[sanddune57]

The first ability Grian really gets a handle on is Gems. It’s not one of the abilities that They want him to master. In fact They give him very little time with her power, but They aren’t around all the time and Gem’s cell happens to be just across from his own. As one of the few powers he can’t use escape, she’s one of the few he’s allowed to see on a regular basis.

Forcing his soul out of his body is a strange and unpleasant experience the first few times, but Gem walks him through it. Moving around without a body, sight and sound but no touch, is also strange. Not to mention phasing through objects. But it lets him talk to Skiz again, lets him talk to Mumbo again. (He ignores how obvious it is his friends have changed since they died).

Grian and Gem bond over what can dubiously be called their ‘freedom’. In their phantom forms, they leave the facility together. They can not sit with nonexistent legs, but they can see the sunlight filter through the trees. They do not feel the wind on their faces, but they can almost imagine how it would play with their nonexistent hair. Grian cannot go far. He doesn’t have the time. But Skizz and Mumbo join them when they aren’t by Cleo’s side. It’s the closest thing to nice anyone has anymore. (It’s so so far off)

——————————————————————

Tango is selfishly glad they’ve turned off his power. It brings his chances of escape nearly to zero, but it’s not like that was going to happen anyway. The collar subdues the hunger that’s been clawing holes in his stomach ever since he gained his super speed. Sure, it means he’s the least proficient with his power out of everyone, but that had always been the case. Not a lot of ways to get used to super speed in a cramped cell. At least he’s not accidentally punching himself in the face trying to push away a piece of hair.

——————————————————————

The Lifers work out a communication network of sorts. Cleo is held far away from Gem and Grian, but that only works to the Lifer’s benefit as Mumbo and Skizzes ghosts plus Gems astral protection makes convenient (if not ideal) bridge of information from one level of the compound to the next.

Martin is on the other side of the hall from Cleo, but he can hear them perfectly well regardless. He can not speak to them without being overheard, but by waving his arms in a coded yes and no, he can at least vaguely contribute to conversations.

Etho uses his mace and wind to chip a hole in the wall between his and Scott’s cell. It’s not much, small enough that their thin mattresses can completely cover it, but it’s enough they can talk to eachother. Etho helps Scott calm down when he can’t change back properly.

A mouse enters Scott’s cell, and he uses the small hole to escape through Ethos cell and out into the hall. They find his cell empty and put the whole place on lockdown. Scott is monitored 24/7 after that, and Etho is moved to an underground secure unit. Both are inadvertently cut off from the communication system of the others.

——————————————————————

Mumbo doesn’t have the heart to tell Cleo the reanimation will never work. He is mentally there just enough to know it never will, to know he is little more then a collective memory made flesh. But he feels distant as a ghost and muddled as a zombie. Everything else is hard to place.

He also knows that living and dieing in this place, spending what remains of his existence intangible or rotting, has changed him and Skizz even without the complications of unlife. But what if he admits his fate, that he will never be whole, and Cleo decides it is kinder to let him rest. He is terrified of fading away. And so he suffers in silence. (She never would. She would keep trying unless he begged her to stop, but he doesn’t know that)

==================================

So this kinda grabbed my brain in a chokehold so i wrote some. Not sure if i’ll expand on it ever but i might (if op is good with that). Hope you enjoyed!

I JUST HAD A REALLY COOL IDEA FOR AN AU BASED ON THE NEW WILD LIFE EPISODE. HEAVY(?) ANGST UP AHEAD AND ALSO SPOILERS TO SESSION 7 SO BE WARNED!

LIFE SERIES MEMBERS BUT THEY GOT THEIR POWERS FROM LAB EXPERIMENTATION!!!!!

Okay I'm switching to lowercase so I'm not just screaming at you guys haha

===============================

Imagine Martyn curled up in the corner of his cell, covering his ears bc he doesn't know how to block things out and everything is so loud.

Imagine Scott transforming from an aquatic creature back to his regular form, but he still has gills, and he panics when he can't breathe.

Imagine Jimmy turning in invisible for the first time and not knowing how to turn back, and he thinks he's stuck that way forever.

Imagine Ren transforming the first few times, but there's always something off about him. He looks eerie, like something from uncanny valley.

Imagine Scar not knowing his own strength and jokingly punching Mumbo, only to send him flying into the wall and causing his death.

Imagine Cleo trying so hard to get Mumbo and Skizz to act the way that they used to when she summons them, but it's never truly them. Something is always wrong.

Imagine BigB being terrified when he summons the creaking for the first time, not realizing they're on his side and thinking they'll attack him.

Imagine Gem astral projecting as an escapism, talking to Mumbo and Skizz and "leaving" the facility, but she can't truly leave.

Imagine Impulse and Tango nearly getting to escape with their powers, their friends cheering them on from inside their cells, and just when they're in the clear, Impulse gets tranquilized and falls unconscious. Tango can't bare to leave his buddy behind. They both get collars that block their abilities and heavy monitoring after that stunt.

Lizzie feels bad about her power. She's tried to escape as well, but when she realized the blindness affected her friends, it freaked her out so much that security was able to catch up to her and take her back to her cell.

Imagine Bdubs sleeping diligently through every night and dealing with nightmares of the hell they've all been put through so his friends don't.

Imagine Pearl wishing she could fly out in the open air, desperate for that kind of freedom that she knows she will never have.

Imagine Etho trying to bring down his mace to pretend to hit Bdubs, and when he move to the side to dodge, it actually puts him in the way of Etho's strike. The absolute terror that fills Etho is so bad that he never jokes like that again, even if it barely hurt him.

Imagine Joel looking around and analyzing the rooms, thinking of how he could scale the walls with his ability to escape through an air vent, but he can never bring himself to do it because he refuses to leave Lizzie.

Imagine Grian being physically and emotionally strained trying to learn everyone's powers and how to properly use them, wishing he just had one of his own instead.

Imagine Skizz and Mumbo both dying (Skizz due to the intense tests and Mumbo due to the effects the testing had on Scar) before they had a chance to gain powers of their own. Don't imagine those powers being just what the group needs to escape.

===============================

I think I might write each of these as a one shot. That would certainly be a LOT of fun :) lmk what you guys think please!

[blueberri-blu]

Serious \|/

[rise] leo x reader (post movie)

Movie Spoilers!!

Angst to Fluff <3

Prompt 7: "I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!" "And I'm trying to subtly avoid it!"

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Emotions were running high, to say the least.

Everyone was coping anyway they could

Donnie was locked away in his lab, tinkering with his tech in hopes of making it safer

Raph was cooped up in his room, refusing to come out, practicing anger management

And Mikey kept practicing and practicing his mystic magic.

Leo on the other hand? He kept on going as of his usual self.

Albeit, he was a bit more serious, but he was acting as if nothing had ever happened.

You thought maybe he just didn't want to talk about it so soon. But days turned to weeks, turned to months. And now it had been 7 months after the invasion, and he had yet to talk about it.

You asked all of his brothers if had opened up and talked to them, not needing to know the details, just wanting to see if he had been able to speak to someone about the traumatizing event. Yet, everyone said no.

Leo had his lips sealed... Other than his typical one liners and puns, that is.

You were determined to get him to talk, to anyone, really, it didn't have to be you! You just wanted the best for him, and suppressing his feelings just wasn't the way to do so.

You were going to trap him. No way for him to escape, no way for him to avoid you, nothing.

You promised Leo a romantic night out. A rooftop with fairy lights, blankets and pillows, his favorite foods and snacks, the whole works.

"A surprise you say, and what brought this on Mi amor?" "oh nothing, just thought I'd do something nice for you, mi rey" (mi rey = my king) oh he was putty in your hands, especially after that nickname. And so you two continued on with your day as normal.

Once evening rolled around, you texted Leo the address, and started your trip there.

Surprisingly, you were the first to arrive, meaning you could double check everything, just in case.

Poor Leo arrived and practically melted, the scene was so romantic, with New Yorks city lights making a beautiful background for your two's night out.

You ate dinner, had a dessert, and then just laid together under the fairy lights.

"Oh, mi vida (my life) you have truly outdone yourself, really, you've swept me off my feet." "I'm glad Leo, really, I know these last few months have been... Rough" "haha, right ... Ahem, anyway, that dinner was impeccable, mi amor, this whole date has been delicious, yet I still have room for more... *Wink* because I could just eat you up!" His fingers went to your sides, tickling you to the point of you not being able to breathe. The only sounds you could make, were wheezing.

"LEOOOOOO STO- HAHAHAHA- STOOOOOP" He only stopped when he noticed your face was too close to a blue hue.

"ok, ok, ok, my hands *jazz hands* are up, officer"

You sighed, "Leo... Look, you... You're great, really, and... I want you to know that, I love you, so so much, ok? And, all I want is the best for you!"

"I'd sure hope so, we are dating y'know"

"Leo... You know what I mean Mi Rey"

"Of course I do! This romantic gesture, your loving words, are you going to propose to me mi amor?"

"Leo..."

"I mean, I do believe we are young, but, he'll! I'd say yes!"

"LEO!"

"Mi Vida!"

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!"

"And I'm trying to subtly avoid it!"

...

You stared at each other. And that's when you saw it. The fear. Leo was scared, you could see it in his eyes, it swirled around, grabbing him, choking him. He quickly looked away, feeling the lump in his throat grow bigger and bigger

"Leo... I know it's hard to talk about but... You can't keep it bottled up, it will only make things worse, mi rey" "... I know but..." He looked back up at you.

You could tell he was struggling, so you took hold of his hand, and started rubbing hearts in his palm. "It's ok, Leo, take your time" you said softly.

Your voice always calmed him. You were kind, and calm, a grand contrast to his... Grand and expressive personality. He loved it.

"y/n, I- my brother's, they're all- they're all struggling and I- I just wanted to-" he broke into a sob. You hugged him, tightly, allowing him to melt into you.

You took deep breaths, knowing Leo would mimic your breathing.

As he calmed down a bit, he continued "all go my brother's, they're all, they're all struggling so much, and I- all I want to do is- is cheer them up y'know? I- I wanna be their rock, I wanna be your rock too" you sighed, hugging him tighter "Leo, as much as we all appreciate the sense of normalcy you've given, that's, that's not the way to do so. What your brothers and I want is to bond over this big traumatic event we've all faced, together. You don't have to talk to me about it, it could be anyone, so long as you're not keeping it to yourself, mi vida"

It was Leo's turn to sigh. He turned, looking into your eyes, they were a bit red from his crying, and a bit puffy, but he seemed... Relived.

He then buried his face in your chest, and continued

He talked and talked, about his fears, his regrets, how he wished he could've done more, how he was so scared, how he tried his best, and still almost failed

You and Leo were there all night. Until the sun came up, waking you both. He seemed... Lighter, as if a weight heavier than life itself had been lifted off his chest.

And all Leo could think about, walking hand in hand with you on his side, back to the lair, was how much he loved you, every part of you.

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[verflares]

gonna be honest i feel like i have seen more posts complaining abt Complaining abt the new zelda game than i have said actual complaints

[bookshelfdreams]

yk when you see someone share a finished handmade item that they clearly spent a lot of time and money on and it's just. The absolute tackiest thing you have seen in your life. And then you ask yourself why someone would waste all those resources on such an eyesore.

(no, of course you can't relate to that because you're a much nicer person than me)

In any case.

BEHOLD!

A wool coat!

The top fabric is handwoven and handspun, the whole thing is sewn by hand, too.

Leftovers. Barely anything, all things considered, which is very satisfying.

This thing took me well over 3 years to make, on and off. And now I'm done.

Thank you for your attention.

[klarolinexluv]

Four years ago. I used to hate this one ship. Like I would go out of my way to just speak that opinion and fuck everyone else right? I was 14.

A year or so past and I grew out of that a bit. I realised that I did like one of those characters in the ship but I still preferred the other ship that was much more popular and canonly didn’t end up together. (I mean the guy died so what do you do).

Anyway… so I was 15 and realised that my behaviour wasn’t the best so I changed. I realised that the character I didn’t like was actually a nice character. I grew to appreciate her more and I started editing her and the guy. The ship that I didn’t like. People thought I was crazy… I sort of laughed it off because yeah, I suppose I was a bit crazy for editing them but I quietly enjoyed doing it.

I was 16 and I shifted away from ships. I started posting more about my favourite character who canonically was a massive bitch do said character I thought I hated. I still made my opinion clear but I never judged anyone for liking something that I didn’t.

I was 17 and I stopped posting for that fandom. I got into Harry Potter and Drarry and the fandom I was surrounded by was a lot calmer. I didn’t see much passive aggressive or toxic behaviour between shippers and that made me feel safe. I realised that a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

I was 17 and I joined the Marauders fandom. For a while it was much of the same. I was safe and I felt loved and I enjoyed it so much.

I’m 18. I still love the marauders fandom so fucking much. Everyone is so incredibly talented and so amazing and I cannot see myself ever abandoning this fandom.

I’m 18 and I got my first anonymous hate comment in my inbox. I was angry. I thought that I had moved on from getting hate for my opinion. I thought the marauders fandom was made up of a lot of mature and liked minded people. I was wrong.

I stuck to my guns. I shared my opinion even with the anonymous hate. I have an open mind. I understand where these haters were coming from. Hell, I even enjoyed the ship they were vouching for… it just so happened that I adored another ship more.

I’m a multi shipper. I always have been. I will try anything at least once and if I don’t like it, I’ll click off.

I would never leave a hate comment under someone’s hate and go off at them for shipping something that I don’t like. I’ve never done that. Even when I was 14 and hated this ship very publicly. I would never hate on someone’s art or edit or fic. I would just click away.

I will defend my favourite characters, my favourite ships until I physically cannot. I will not hate you for having a different opinion even if you hate on me first.

I have received death threats. I hope that no one ever experiences that feeling.

In conclusion, if you love something, that’s amazing. If you hate something, that’s cool too. If you hate on someone for loving something you hate, that’s not okay. Everyone deserves respect.

If someone loving something you hate makes you angry. I’m going to be so fucking for real, go outside, touch grass or taking a deep breath and scroll. Block tags. Block blogs/accounts.

Putting someone down is a form of bullying, repetitively or not. It’s bullying. Hating for no reason, I’ll go so far as to say that’s bullying.

You’re allowed to be angry, that’s your right. It’s not your right to hate one someone because of it.

Take it from someone who used to get angry for someone shipping something I hated.

I say from experience that it feels better to just let it go, to move on, to open ao3 and read the things you love, to open the tag you love and scroll through it. You’ll feel better, you’ll feel good.

I promise you. The best thing to do when you are angry is to turn away, focus your energy on something you love rather than something you hate.

I’m sorry to op for highjacking the post haha. My rant was rather inspired.

some of you cannot be the age you say you are because the way you react to fictional characters with such anger is jarring

[lazylittledragon]

what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?

it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".

i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.

the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.

it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.

tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.

[obsob]

here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud!!

✷(print shop)✷