#but for me I’ve decided it doesn’t actually matter

[mythica0]

Silly messenger

🎂: Epic: The musical

🧁: Hermes

🍫: Poseidon

Summary: After Hermes decided to play a little trick on Poseidon, the god of the seas decides that instead of kicking his ass, he’ll try something a little different.

A/N: this is a sequel to Special Delivery by @amazingmsme ! Read that(and their other amazing fics) first!! Also, I know I’ve said it many times before but I’m saying it again I LOVE HERMES GRAHH. Also, you’ll know why I’m saying this when you get there, but I HC that Hermes likes being tickled and is very open about that. That man does NOT care. Lastly, the last line feels a little dumb but I didn’t know how else to end it so whatever. That all being said, ENJOOOYYYY!

Cw for swearing and some more intense tickles, but that’s it!

Silly messenger

Oh, Hermes was so screwed. He could tell by the mischievous smirk on his uncles face.

Was it worth it? Abso-fucking-lutely. But that doesn’t change the fact that he was still screwed. Royally screwed, even.

Y’see, Hermes was an opportunist(and a trickster) by nature, so when he found out that his pissy, grumpy-pants uncle was ticklish, he just couldn’t help himself!

And now he was about to face consequences.

Poseidon faced the first challenge of trying to get revenge on Hermes. Catching the fucker. He is the good of speed, and therefore ridiculously fast. The exit was blocked, but within the cave Poseidon still had to find a way to get Hermes out of the air and into his mischievous clutches.

“Grr, get your ass down here, feathers!”

“Hahahahaha! And why should I?” Hermes didn’t actually want to get away all that badly. But he wanted to tease his uncle, so he was putting up a fight anyway.

“Because if you do, maybe I’ll go easy on ya.” Poseidon smirked, picking up his trident.

“Yeah, right! I know mercy isn’t exactly your thing, uncle.”

“Well, if you comply, maybe I’ll be swayed otherwise.”

“Hahahahaha! I have absolutely zero belief in that, Poseidon. If you want to get to me, you’ll have to catch me first!”

Poseidon growled. He was expecting that. Didn’t make it any less annoying. So, the hard way it was then. He didn’t even bother trying to chase Hermes, he would get absolutely nowhere, the feathery fucker was far too fast.

Instead, he used his trident to summon the water around the cave to block Hermes in and hopefully get his wings wet so he couldn’t fly.

“Woah there! Smart move, but you’re gonna need to do a little better than that if you want to catch me!” Hermes ended the taunting remark with his signature, shrill giggle.

“Oh really now?”

Hermes pretended not to notice the small little trail of water that was sneaking up behind him. Again, he didn’t actually want to get away, after all.

The wings on his sandals got wet, making it so he had to fly back down or risk falling, landing right in Poseidon’s grasp.

“Got ya”

Hermes was still smiling, on the verge of giggling because of what he knew was about to happen. Poseidon took mental note of this. For later.

The sea god wrapped his arms around his nephew, and then started to wiggle his claws at his sides and ribs. “Really, you’d think you would’ve seen that coming, you getting sloppy?”

“Nohohoho!” Hermes responded, the protest infested with giggles. His hidden eyes were scrunched up from the wide smile across his face as he giggled.

“Hmm. Then what was that about, huh?”

“Yohou’ll sehee! Hehahahahaha!” Hermes laugh was a little less.. annoying.. when he was being tickled. Poseidon was expecting to sacrifice his eardrums to the loud, glass-shattering, infuriating laugh. But surprisingly, while it still held that infuriating, bird-like tone, it was much less high pitched.

He took his claws and scribbled his way under Hermes arms, causing them to clamp down to the younger’s sides as he laughed louder.

“Hehahahahahaha ohoho nohoho!” He called out, his instincts finding it unbearable no matter how much he liked it.

Poseidon noted many things. One of which being, “y’know, I don’t think you’ve asked me to stop once.”

“Hehahahahaha thahahat’d behehehe cohohorrect!”

Poseidon narrowed his eyes with a teasing smirk “so does that mean you don’t want me to stop?”

“Whahahahat doho yohou thihihink!” Despite the situation Hermes was in, he couldn’t help but tease a bit.

“Ha, that’s what I thought. Of course you would enjoy this, you silly messenger.” You’d think that since it was revenge, Poseidon would stop when he found out the other enjoyed it, but he didn’t. It was still revenge, he knew how unbearable the sensation could be, even for someone who liked it. So, he upped the ante, scratching his claws faster and faster against Hermes’ sides and underarms.

Hermes’ loud giggles echoed around the walls of the cave, kicking his feet lightly as Poseidon tickled him ruthlessly(ha, see what I did there?)

“Hehehehehahahaha! Thahahat reheally tihihickles! Hehahahahahaha!”

“Well, that’s the point. I’m tickling you, dumbass.”

Hermes didn’t try to conceal whatsoever how much fun he was having, smiling widely and never once trying to push at Poseidon’s hands or ask him to stop. What can he say, it was fun! Laughing like this was always a blast, no matter what caused it.

Poseidon decided to be a little mean and without any sort of warning, blew a loud raspberry right in the center of Hermes’ stomach. The messenger squealed and giggled louder, resembling his usual, ear-shattering laugh a little closer.

“EEEE! Ahahahahahahahahaha ohoho nohoho! Eehahahahahaa!”

“What? You don’t like raspberries? They’re a pretty tasty fruit, if I do say so myself.” Poseidon teased before doing the same thing again.

“Eehahahahahaha ihihi dihihidnt sahahay thaHAT! EEE!”

“Heh, you are an absolute dork, you know that?”

“Thahahank yohohou!” Hermes giggled out sassily in reply to the teasing remark.

“It wasn’t a compliment, stupid.”

“Ihihit ihihihis toho mehehe!”

“Ugh, shut up and laugh.” Hermes response was cut off by another squeal as Poseidon blew another raspberry, followed by changing the scratching at his underarms to drilling and digging, making Hermes laughter even louder and more hysterical.

“EHEHEHAHAHA! OHOHOHO GOHOHODS! HHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Heh, that’s more like it.” Poseidon finished the taunt with another raspberry, assaulting Hermes’ torso with lingering waves of tingles that made him feel so giddy.

Hermes wings were flapping and he was kicking a bit, trying to expel some of the energy building up within him from the bubbly feeling. It was a lot of fun and he was not afraid to show it, smile splitting his face in half with small happy tears pricking his eyes. Poseidon continued his relentless digging and raspberries, using his facial hair to make it tickle the younger god even more.

“EHEHAHAHAHA POHOHOSEHEIDON!”

“Whaaaaat? I thought you liked this!”

“IHIHI DOHO- BUHUT- EEEHEHEEEE!” His words were cut off with more squealing laughter. It was so intense and unbearable but also so amazing, sending giddy waves of laughter and tingles through his whole body.

As much fun as this was, Hermes laughter was starting to get shrill and high pitched again, so Poseidon stopped in order to spare his ear drums, letting go of Hermes who then stood on the floor, letting out remaining giggles.

“Gods, you’re loud.”

“Ihihi- hehehe.. I’m sorry, I can’t help it!” The smile in his face made it seem like he wasn’t actually sorry, although the latter part of the statement was true.

“Okay, whatever you say.” Poseidon walked back up to his throne and sat down with a dismissive wave.

“Go on, I’m sure you have more deliveries to take care of.”

“That I do! Ta-ta, uncle~ this has been fun!”

Poseidon rolled his eyes with a huff as Hermes left, hiding a small smile.

Maybe Hermes wasn’t so bad.

———THE END————————————————

[misspermitted]

Me: I’m not having any gender issues. I am completely cis-gender.

Also me, rewriting my main character as a trans man: I am just an ally

Also also me, after buying a binder and putting it on, in tears: I’m just normalising transwear, because I’m a good ally

Me, a week later, googling drag king makeup and doing it obsessively on myself: Drag isn’t about gender I’m just challenging gender aesthetics because I’m a REALLY GOOD ALLY

Probably me in a few years, actually getting top surgery: I’m just being a really really good ally 🙃

[brittlebutch]

fragment of a partially written “what if Evan went through with the magic-exorcism and had his memory of Gowpenny erased?” fic -- specifically a scene in which Jammer/K/Sam track him down to some middle-of-nowhere rest stop in order to meet him again

[squuote]

realizing that maybe I am just some crow who does not like labels. or at least using too many

[im-no-jedi]

you know what? I know what my real problem is

I’m not cringe enough

I need to be more cringe

I need to go back to like how it was last year when my entire blog was dedicated to MLWTBB

screw the anxiety, become cringe 😤

(and anyone who says otherwise, there’s an unfollow button with your name on it 😌)

[just-rogi]

.

[milo-is-rambling]

Does anyone else feel like everyone in their life has had this strange ability to take things lightly and put aside their brain to just be happy and silly and use their imagination and despite the fact that you have done those things you have never felt care free while being happy or silly and you can’t tell if everyone else is faking it too or if ur mental illness goes so deep into who you are as a person that you aren’t completely sure if you’ve ever been that imaginative happy silly person even though that’s the person that you’ve been trying to be for years and that’s how your friends know you but IS IT how they know you how does anyone know you when you picture yourself in your mind you still think of you in middle school and it’s been years since that was you

[kuiinncedes]

someone tell me what album to do this w next LOL

[4dbeingguide]

11 tips from a master manifestor.

y��all have been loving my first post and it’s really encouraged me to come back. this time i have 11 tips for you! i would’ve really appreciated a post like this when i was a beginner so i’ve decided to make it for those who may also be starting with their journey. actually it doesn’t matter where you are on this road, this is supposed to help everybody, including master manifestors (yes, sometimes doubts cross our minds, we just know how to deal with them)!

there is a lot of repetition as there are some concepts i want to emphasize on. excuse any grammar errors. let’s get straight to it!

stop giving a fuck about the 3D. that is absolute (as in, don’t check it, don’t wait for anything from it, don’t let it get to you). just stop. i have a post over here that will really help you in doing so (and no, it isn’t me cursing at you while ordering you to stop. it’s me having a discussion with you and listening to your doubts while refuting them and i also back it up with scientific sources).

acknowledge that you already are a master manifestor. you’re already where you need to be. don’t let the illusion that is the 3D tell you otherwise!

if you see a piece of manifestation advice that rubs you the wrong way then simply act as if it’s false and doesn’t apply to your reality. you make the rules.

speaking of rules, make yourself some manifesting rules that dictate that manifesting is effortless and instant for you. don’t settle for less.

keep a success story list (and yes, you can put stuff that you’ve assumed that hasn’t appeared in the 3D since the 4D is the only reality) so that you can use it to reaffirm your belief in the law if you ever doubt it.

never seek approval from the 3D for ANYTHING. it is an ILLUSION. your 4D/mind/assumptions are the OBJECTIVE reality. this also applies to the state of waiting and wanting. why do you want to wait for the approval of an illusion? and what are you wanting when it’s already here?

the 3D is not your enemy and it is impossible for the 3D to reject your manifestation. the bitch is inanimate lmao. have you ever walked in front of a mirror and had it tell you “i’m not gonna reflect right now”? i’m sure the answer is no. the 3D works the same way. it EXISTS to reflect our assumptions. that’s its entire purpose. it is nothing but an illusory perception of our 4D. it actually obeys you down to a T. i was gonna say it’s your pet but pets are actually alive and autonomous, the 3D isn’t. the 3D just an inanimate illusion. your business is in the 4D. that’s where you live.

you don’t need a technique. to manifest, all you have to do is assume you have it or enter the state of having it. techniques simply exist to help you do so (that’s why we affirm/visualize/etc. that we have it) but you can do it directly. that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them. do what feels most natural to you. do what is the most efficient when it comes to making you fulfilled (not what gives it to you fastest in the 3D. remember, it’s an illusion).

you shouldn’t care if the 3D will give it to you or not. the 3D is an illusion, remember? a simple way to get yourself to put your eyes on the 4D is saying something to the effect of “this 3D/physical world isn’t real/is an illusion, the 4D/mind is the only true reality, i live in the 4D and thus all my affairs are there and not in the 3D and this is what the 4D is saying: (insert manifestation)”. seriously, all your affairs are in the 4D. you’re 4 dimensional.

when doubts persist, reading rants and banging pots and pans might help sometimes but sometimes you just have to sit down with yourself and have an internal dialogue. you’re human (probably 🤔 just in case you’re manifesting otherwise as you read this, and yes it IS possible). hear what your doubts have to say in full (don’t buy it though) and debunk them calmly and civilly.

limits don’t exist. imagination is the only reality. if you can imagine it then it can happen unless you say it can’t.

if you liked this post, make sure to check out my post here!!! in it i elaborate on how to deal with doubts. have an amazing day 🫶

[arts-and-drafts]

I decided to start compiling speech patterns and such for the Hermits I watch the most, because being a fic writer is hard sometimes 😭 then I thought “why not share it here?”

so here’s my very rough analysis of my most viewed Hermits, this is just what I’ve managed to gather so please don’t call me out for what I’m missing

-

Scar

Rarely stutters in normal speech. Maybe pauses if he’s started a sentence and doesn’t know where it’s going, but he doesn’t tend to trail off unless something interrupts his train of thought

Stutters a LOT when he’s startled. Also makes ‘hoo!’ noises repeatedly before he finds his words

Lays on the charm THICK when he’s trying to convince someone over literally anything; compliments their looks, their handiwork, and then pitches his proposition in smooth segue. Not one to entertain haggling though (however he DOES do a ‘look if you’ll pay full price I’ll throw in xyz’ thing). King of upselling even the most mundane things.

His tone is cheerful most of the time, no matter what he’s saying. He’ll actually often say very disturbing things with a light voice (ex. when discussing how to retaliate ie “what should we do about him?” “we could kill him! :)”)

Builds and locations somehow are always capitalized in his voice?? Like he says them differently. I can’t really explain it (when he talks about Aqua Town or Scarland or The Big Dig)

Literally has an evil laugh when he thinks of a way to prank someone or mess with people

Hums in thought quite often, and uses “huh!” quite often when confused or finding out something new (Mostly with redstone)

His farewell is almost always “Byeeee, have a great time!” even if the conversation he left was not a pleasant one. I’m almost certain he does this in tense situations just to get under other people’s skin and really push how unbothered he is

Doesn’t tend to insult people, the farthest he’ll take it is backhanded compliments

That said he is not afraid to outright threaten (“I will murder them.”)

References media a lot, both for concepts for builds and in speech (ie his greeting “Well hello there!” is from Star Wars)

Number one exclamation is “Sweet Baby Jellie!”

(More under the cut!)

Grian

Cold opens, both in videos and conversations (rarely says “hello, how are you, etc” when encountering someone, but he does say farewells/‘thank you’s)

Likes to sneak up on people and scare them if he realizes they haven’t noticed him yet, usually does so by getting real close and then yelling (“HEY!”/“HI!”/“WHAT’S THAT?”)

Uses the name of whoever he’s talking to pretty often while speaking to them (“Well, Mumbo, you never know”/“So, Scar, as you can see here-“), same goes for often addressing his audience (“you all”/“you lot”/“you guys”)

Usually pretty focused (when he wants to be) but oftentimes takes a minute to laugh at things he notices in the natural environment (An accidental face in a build, a mob in a strange place, etc)

Takes the lead in a conversation if nobody is the clear leader, but generally only speaks when spoken to if someone else has risen to that spot

Clarifies instructions after something is explained, both to his viewers and to anyone he’s grouped up with (most often seen in the Life Series)

Uses “Pardon?!”/“Beg your pardon?!” most often when surprised or startled (he’s very British), also sometimes uses “Sorry??”

Things are way more funny to him when he’s tired

Deadpans a lot in conversation ie “why not do xyz?” “Well because we’ll horrifically die 😑“

This man is allergic to committing to the bit unless he’s the one that initiated it

Not one to sugarcoat (“how is it?” “well to be honest it’s miserable”)

Number one exclamation is “WHAT?!” (though he often uses “oh my GOODNESS” quite a bit)

Mumbo

The start of nearly every episode is almost a pitch, does the same when bringing up an idea to others (“I have this idea”/“I was thinking”/“I noticed” etc)

Often laughs a little at himself when he speaks

Also often brings up how inexperienced/unqualified he thinks he is with literally any task he’s doing

Gets very distracted with the smallest things

Uses similes a lot when trying to describe a concept (“I’m thinking a this-type thing”/“Something like a [xyz]”/“Imagine like a [thing]”)

His voice gets higher when he’s startled or panicking

A very vocal thinker, which makes sense because he’s a MC Youtuber, but he also just. Seems to think out loud regardless

Comments a lot on the feel of things (“Oh this feels menacing”/“This looks like it’d mess you up”/“This makes it feel very intimidating”), often with building

Extremely modest. However will celebrate when he does something right in redstone/building (“YES! Oh my days, that took forever”)

Once and a while will have a rare banter moment with people he’s comfortable with (ie teasing and making fun)

Related to above, he gets very giggly when he’s hanging out with people he’s familiar with (Grian and Scar most often, but also Iskall)

Number one exclamation is “What on earth?!”

Joel

Greets people most often with “How you doing [name]?”/“How are ya [name]?”

He’s very northern. He often leaves out words in his sentences bc that’s just the way his dialect is (“What you doin’?” vs “What are you doing?”)

Says his th’s like f’s (“somefing”/“nofing”/“finking”) ((Stress also does this))

His jokes/teasing are very deadpan (“I made you this extra thing, because you’re trash at this”)

Actually gives gifts of resources very often, and always leaves it with a little note and signs his name

His voice gets higher pitched when he’s defensive/being extremely cheeky but other than that his tone rarely changes

This man. Flirts so much. If any other person initiates even the slightest of flirty banter he takes that and dials it to eleven I cannot believe this is a straight married man sometimes

Joel commits to the bit 100% of the time (slightly related to above), unless of course it’s jokes about his height

Makes a point to compliment himself if he gets the chance (words most often used are “handsome” “strong” and “humble”, as well as comments about his muscles and physique)

Insults his enemies diminutively (“look at you down there, tiny idiot”/“You’re wrong and also weak”) ((seen most often in Empires SMP)

His most often used insult is “idiot”

When he’s flustered/frustrated he uses “bloody” a lot (ie “bloody heck” or “this bloody thing” (loves to toe the PG line), also uses “blooming” (“bloomin’ heck”)

Most often used exclamation is also “WHAT?!”

Bdubs

Opens videos very jovially, talks almost like a radio host

Breaks down his builds down to the block, spends a lot of time discussing his block pallet choices and giving tips while he builds

Uses the affirmation “sure enough” a lot, and often addresses himself as “Ol’ Bdubs”

Talks affectionately about other hermits often (“[name], the absolute sweetheart, left me some materials”, “[name], you angel!”)

Adding to above, “angel” or “sweet angel” seems to be his most often used affectionate terms

Switches on a dime, though, if he gets offended (which of course causes others to poke fun at him even more)

Calls mobs “stupid” a lot when they don’t do what he wants (but takes it back if he says it to one of his horses ex. “Come here, stupid—wonderful, I mean, beautiful”)

THIS MAN IS THE #1 HORSE ENJOYER. He gets a horse first thing every season and rides it everywhere, and they’re always a focal point of his theme or builds in some regard

Pauses whatever he’s doing to sleep as soon as it’s possible, and gets very antsy if he can’t do it for some reason (“One moment, time to shreep!”)

Related to above, EVERYONE messes with him if he’s trying to sleep in their presence ie breaking his bed over and over, and he gets increasingly more frustrated when it happens

Rarely is soft spoken or quiet, he projects his voice and uses a lot of emphasis in his tone

Either straight up screams (and peaks the mic 😭) if he’s startled or scared, or yells “oh my GOODNESS!!”

Number one exclamation is “HEY!”

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Deadpool and Wolverine might actually be the best love letter to Marvel that I’ve seen.

On a meta level, the movie feels like it was written in response to people dismissing the Marvel properties that aren’t the MCU. The MCU is the “Sacred Timeline” while everyone else gets thrown into the trash aka the Void. Wade even tried to become an Avenger because he feels that his life doesn’t matter. Then, Wade gets a chance to join the MCU. Of course, he’s thrilled, but is then told that the rest of his universe is getting destroyed since they lost its “anchor” (aka it lost its relevance). So, Wade decides to fight for his universe.

On a surface level, you can read this movie as a criticism of the MCU in that it’s treating the only stories worth a damn as the ones coming from that universe. But I don’t think that’s the case. I mean, first off, this was made by Marvel Studios. Feige and Co had to sign off on this and a great deal of the plot stems from the Loki show. Second, the movie felt more like it was trying to say that ALL Marvel stories matter. It’s not really criticizing the MCU, it’s criticizing how audiences view the Marvel movies/shows that aren’t the MCU. The “why should I care about this movie if it doesn’t lead to the next Avengers movie” attitude.

That’s why I say this was the best love letter to Marvel I’ve seen. It’s a celebration of the company’s works, both MCU and non-MCU. You can see that from the Easter eggs, the cameos, the nods to the fandom, and the emphasis on forgotten characters getting a chance at redemption. Even the jabs at the company and fanbase feel like they come from a place of love.

But what really sold me on this movie being a love letter to Marvel was the ending. Instead of a tease to a potential De4dpool movie, it was a montage of the development of the Fox Marvel movies (I can’t say X-Men since clips of the Fantastic Four were there). On one side, it’s a touching send-off to the Fox X-Men franchise. On the other side, it felt like a reminder of why people love Marvel to begin with. It’s these people - actors, writers, directors, producers - coming together to make these entertaining stories for us, to bring the comics to life on the big screen. It’s like Ryan Reynolds was telling us to take a step back from all the conspiracy theorizing, nitpicking, and fanbase drama for a couple of hours, that we should just enjoy this Marvel movie as it is.

And it worked. It was genuinely just a fun, awesome movie to watch. If we’re using the MCU-as-a-TV-show-analogy that people love using, Deadpool and Wolverine is the 100th episode that is made dedicated to the fans and celebrating the show as a whole. It’s a fanservice movie done right, one that goes beyond just references and cameos.

[monzabee]

diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument. 

Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!! 

Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.  

You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.” 

“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?” 

You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.” 

“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact. 

You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?” 

“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.” 

“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.” 

Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?” 

You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?” 

He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.” 

“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.” 

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.” 

“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.” 

Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.” 

“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”  

“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”  

This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!” 

Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”  

 “You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.  

The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”  

Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”  

“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.” 

“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.  

“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”  

“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.  

He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”  

“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”  

“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.” 

After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?” 

He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.  

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”  

“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.  

You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.” 

Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.” 

Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—” 

He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips. 

“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—” 

“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink." 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.” 

“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!” 

Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.” 

Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly. 

“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.” 

You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous. 

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away. 

Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.” 

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.” 

[wordsinhaled]

i’m so totally normal about the fact that aziraphale’s last (known) deliberate foray into the queer community was when he learned the gavotte at the fictionalized hundred guineas club (!!!) in the 1800s and now in the 2020s he’s like “grindr? what’s that?”

many are talking about his repression which is very valid… and yet the thing to me that stands out about aziraphale is that he’s actually… incredibly stable in his identity and that identity IS incredibly queer. queer by the standards of heaven AND by human standards as well

metatron describes his “de facto partnership” with crowley as “irregular.” and in fact aziraphale in his entirety is irregular. he likes and makes it his business not only to understand but to be a connoisseur of all manner of things angels aren’t supposed to even remotely care about. food. music. books. theatre. sleight of hand. and more.

it’s the sort of behavior that would’ve gotten him othered, treated as a bit odd, in heaven even if he hadn’t chosen to consort all across the earth with a literal demon. and it IS treated that way - the fact is aziraphale even as an angel has got proclivities that set him apart from the rest of the host (even after offering him the highest position in heaven, metatron still acts deeply dismissive of him… like aziraphale’s bookshop is merely a quaint little hobby of his that can be easily transferred to another custodian, and not a literal extension of who aziraphale has become, full of his tartan and unique bibles and special vintages of wine and the books arranged in a very specific way)

so. aziraphale is a queer angel but of course he’s also queer to other humans. but in such a way that… he had his realization a LONG time ago, and put the matter very much to rest after that. aziraphale is perpetually something like several centuries behind schedule. he owns an ancient computer that probably continues to run windows 98 simply because aziraphale’s decided it should. he wears the same waistcoat and coat for generations because he simply likes them precisely the way they are and sees no reason to change them. but the idea that he doesn’t know how he comes across to others - of course he does. he knows he looks like your prim and proper grandfather and he prefers it that way

aziraphale looked around at humans in the 1880s and said: ah yes. this is where i fit. and promptly ensconced himself in that queer subculture. learned the gavotte. read his austen. loved crowley from afar. aziraphale is fiercely and vibrantly queer. just with the sort of assurance of someone who lives with his lover in a commonlaw marriage for decades and then shows up at city hall for the certificate once society decides it’s ‘allowed.’ like… he hasn’t had any need to know what grindr is because aziraphale’s ‘scene’ was a century and a half ago and it defined romance for him too.

but my favorite thing about aziraphale is how much of him is about appearances versus the truth. he can lie straight to angels’ faces and sleep at night. he knows he comes off soft but he once wielded a flaming sword. he dissembles helplessness but he’s far from it and he knows precisely how it makes others treat him. and at the core of aziraphale is rigidity, inflexibility of ideas… his sense of self is stable where crowley’s is malleable, and so on, and so on

and the fact that he’s continuously fixated on trying to misguidedly do the right thing, the fact that he seeks heavenly approval and wants to fit the world into his schema of good vs evil… in no way do i think that means he isn’t one hundred percent aware of how he feels about crowley or what it means about him by angelic or human standards. i’ve seen some folks saying that aziraphale doesn’t want to like kissing crowley and like… as much as i love me some brideshead revisited/atonement flavored angst; i put forth that it’s not internalized homophobia or queer panic but simply: “i’m trying to do the right thing for both of us and you won’t let me.” and “i wanted our first kiss to be different.” he was envisioning an entirely different flavor of romance than what he got but he emma woodhoused too close to the sun

like, y’all. aziraphale in all likelihood has a glorious collection of historical queer erotica. he just has a feathery diva coat hanging in his closet, and for what. “oh, good lord” he says at crowley’s revolutionary outfit in the bastille, while eyeing him up like an entire meal. he’s so good at affected propriety, at carefully constructed stuffiness, but between the two of them aziraphale’s got to be the one who has experience

aziraphale had been physically throwing himself at crowley the entire season. he orchestrated an entire regency ball so they could touch hand to hand. he spends the entire season (well, and season 1) looking at crowley like he’s particularly coveted. he looked at crowley before the fall like he was glorious and beautiful. aziraphale’s queer and he knows it and i think that isn’t his problem, it’s the fact that he wants to build a different sort of future for the two of them but crowley’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by reminding him of everything he can finally have. like. that’s the heartbreak. it’s how dare you make this ugly? i forgive you for our first kiss being all pain and salt. it’s my dearest, i wanted to make heaven as beautiful as you deserve. as sacred and safe for us as our bookshop. and i can do that for us, because once i held a flaming sword and i still remember how the hilt felt in my hands. and now the taste of you is in my mouth.

[thesilveregg]

I’ve seen people complain about Gwen saying to her dad “you’re a good cop” but I don’t think they understand what that scene actually means. Gwen’s dad is supposed to represent the “good cop”. It’s like Gwen says: he puts on that badge everyday so someone worse than him doesn’t. Pre Gwen’s reveal, he SEEMS like a good person, advocating for bringing peter’s killer to justice. But then he finds out, and in that moment, values the law over his teenage daughter. He even shows it in their reconciliation scene, even after not seeing his daughter for MONTHS, by arguing against Gwen being a vigilante despite the all the good shes done. When Gwen says “you’re a good cop,” she’s not saying “youre a good person” or “youre a good dad”. She’s saying “youre a BAD person. You’re a BAD dad. you value the law over my life, no matter what I do. You’re willing to sacrifice me for what you assume is the greater good, but it’s not even that.”

So he decides not be a good cop anymore.

[agents-are-dicks]

God what I’d give to be piled up in my aunts bed, in my strawberry shortcake nightgown, staying up way too late watching reruns of The Nanny again

Unplanned rant in tags but I’m leaving it. I’ll probably delete this tomorrow.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Kiss and Make Up

Summary: You used to get along with your brother’s best friend, but at some point, it all changed. Lando’s rude comments frustrate you to no end, and your brother is fed up with your complaints. Max only sees one solution: you need to make up.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader (enemies to lovers)

WC: 5.0K

Warnings: cursing?

Masterlist

You heard the keys jiggle in the door, followed by the creaking sound of it opening, and your brother stomping through the hallway of your parental home. You finally have some time off from school after the insane amount of deadlines and exams that filled your last couple of weeks and decided to visit your family. You like studying and university, but it’s nice to come home and be taken care of instead of doing everything on your own. However, you’re still in charge of dinner tonight. You can never make it back home without being forced to make your famous lasagne at least once and tonight’s the night your family will be blessed with your famed, home-made dish. 

Max smiled when he saw you standing in the kitchen, chopping up the veggies for tonight. Although he’d never tell you directly, he had missed you. Max still lived close to your parents whereas you had moved further away for school. It made it difficult to see each other regularly, especially since Max had started Quadrant with Lando and didn’t make the effort to visit you anymore. Seeing you in person had become a rare occurrence, something that would only happen in his parents’ house.

Max put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned forward to watch what you were doing. “Hey sis, are you making lasagne?” He said with a smile.

“Hello Y/N, I’ve missed you. How are you doing? – I’m doing well, Max. Thank you for asking.” You mumbled as you continued to cut vegetables for dinner.

You couldn’t see it with your back towards your brother, but he smiled at your antics. “Hello my dear sister, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. I do wonder how you’re doing.”

You turned around and smiled when he pulled you into a hug. “It’s your own fault. You never come to visit me, but I’m doing well now that the exams are over,” you tell him with a chuckle.

Max decided to ignore your complaint, instead redirecting the conversation to what you were busying yourself with. “So, lasagne?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Max. I’m making lasagne for dinner.” 

He silently cheered at your response. A cheeky smile made its way onto his face when he asked, “Is there enough for one more?”

“Depends… Who’s it for? P?” You said, looking back over your shoulder to meet his eyes as you cut up more veggies.

“Does it matter who I invited? You won’t let anyone else eat your lasagne?” He said with a laugh, but you knew the question was serious. He knew you didn’t particularly get along with some of his friends – actually, one of his friends, Lando. To say your relationship with Lando isn’t great would be an understatement. Max didn’t know why exactly you didn’t get along, you’ve never indulged him, but the dislike is clearly noticeable and has been going on for ages. Max had tried to improve the relationship in the past, but nothing had worked, only making it worse. He doesn’t understand why Lando, specifically; you don’t seem to have any issues with his other friends. 

You looked at Max pointedly; he was asking for something he already knew. Of course, you’d let people other than P eat your lasagne. There’s only one person that you wouldn’t allow.

Max sighed at your seriousness, “Yes, I’ve invited P,” he told you.

You smiled triumphantly, “Good! I’ve missed her; more than you, actually,” you said with a snort.

Max rolled his eyes at your comment. “I should never have introduced you two. You’re suspiciously close,” he mumbled as he shook his head, leaving the kitchen.

You grinned at his comment and continued to prepare dinner. You carefully cut the veggies, made the sauce and built the lasagne before you covered it with cheese. After you finally put it in the oven, you went to your room to freshen up. Of course, you cannot cut tomatoes without getting juice on your shirt, so clean clothes are a necessity. You quickly changed your shirt, reapplied your deodorant, and fixed up your hair before you heard the door opening, footsteps and voices following soon after. You smiled as you walked down the stairs, excited to see Pietra after months. You walked into the room, ready to hug your brother’s girlfriend, only to see his boyfriend making himself comfortable on the couch.

Your smile dropped from your face in an instant, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Lando,” you said in a low voice. What on earth was he doing here? Your brother told you he’d invited his girlfriend, your friend; was she not here yet? Lando must’ve come to pick something up, right? He wouldn’t visit around this time unless he came to pick something up… Or come for dinner… Judging by how comfortable he had made himself on the couch, you doubt it’s the former.

“Y/N! How are you?” Lando said, getting up from the couch to properly greet you. You scoffed and folded your arms as he moved closer.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Nice to see you too,” Lando said with a smirk.

“I hope you’re not here for dinner,” you continue.

“I am here for dinner, actually. Max invited me.”

You shifted your eyes over to Max in anger. He’d told you P would be coming over, not Lando. The little bitch. 

“I take it P’s not coming, then?” It was evident in your voice that you were upset.

Max looked at you with apologetic eyes, like a child being scolded, as he avoided your gaze. At the lack of response, you turned your attention back to Lando.

“There isn’t enough food for all of us, and even if there was, it probably wouldn’t match your fancy diet anyway. Go buy a salad or something,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

Lando couldn’t help but smile at your response. “Such hostility,” he said, his hand resting on his chest in fake hurt, and a teasing grin on his face that made you want to slap it off.

You gritted your teeth at the teasing – God, this man frustrated you to no end, and he was enjoying it, too. 

“Fuck off, Lando. You’re not welcome here,” you said before walking away.

Lando was about to follow you into the dining room, unable to resist teasing you further, but Max stopped him. “Come on, man. Don’t provoke her. She’s already annoyed, especially because I lied to her.” 

You paced the dining room in an attempt to calm yourself down while the lasagne cooked in the oven. You grabbed the plates from the cabinet and started setting the table. You'd cooled off until you realised you’d have to set a place for Lando. You frowned as you stared at the last plate. Why couldn’t Lando just leave you alone? He should know not to bother you, you’d shown him before how petty you could be when he frustrated you, so why did he have to try again and again? Should you act like the bigger person, get over yourself and set the table for Lando, or should you 'forget' about Lando and set only four places? Your parents would be upset for sure, but the urge to retaliate is so strong. You stood still for at least a minute as you weighed your options. 

A smile crept its way on your face when you spotted the kids’ table in the corner of the dining room. Usually, it’s only used for big family events, when your much younger cousins would come to visit. They don’t properly fit at the adult table and have their own tiny table in the corner of the room. A normal-sized human wouldn’t properly fit on one of the seats, but then again, Lando’s short, right? Besides, if he acts like a child, then he can sit at the children’s table. You grab the children’s cutlery and plate from the cabinet and set a special place for Lando. You can barely keep your laughter back at the thought of Lando sitting at the small table in a chair that’s way too tiny for him.

When you heard the timer beep, you tried to neutralise your expression. You placed the lasagne on the kitchen table before calling your family (and Lando) for dinner. Your parents were, unsurprisingly, the first to join you at the table. The boys, naturally, were still finishing up the game they started before dinner was finished. Your parents were already seated and provided with drinks before the boys came walking in. Although your parents hadn’t noticed the table in the corner or the missing chair, your brother noticed straight away.

He looked at you disappointedly as he said, “Y/N, did you seriously not set a place for Lando?”

“No, I did. It’s right over there,” you said, pointing to the kids’ table.

The boys looked in the direction you were pointing, and Max started laughing immediately. Meanwhile, Lando was shocked at how blunt you were being. So far, every retaliation you’d ever taken wasn’t that obvious. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and disappointment as he stared at the table – did you really dislike him that much?

“Where’s the other chair?” Max asked, still chuckling as he stood at the empty spot by the table.

You didn’t look up when you responded, “I don’t know,” shrugging your shoulders as you casually continued to divide the lasagne.

Lando sighed as he tried the chair, his knees pointing out above the table. Max only laughed louder at the image, and your dad couldn’t resist chuckling either while Lando pouted.

“I can’t eat like this.” 

“Then don’t. I told you you’re not welcome.” 

“Y/N!” Your mum scolded you before turning to Lando. “You’re always welcome here, darling. Ignore her,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

You rolled your eyes.

“Where did you put the chair?” She questioned you.

You sighed, “They’re just in the pantry,” you admitted.

Your mum stood up and grabbed the chair for Lando who was still sitting in the tiny seat, while Max took pictures to post on his story, laughing. Lando smiled thankfully when she came back with the chair and grabbed a normal plate to serve him a generous portion of your homemade lasagne.

You couldn’t help but glare at Lando when he took his first bite. He was undeserving of the food which you had put so much effort and love into. You couldn’t even enjoy your own portion with the boy sitting across from you, although it tasted great. But Lando couldn't enjoy it either with the glares you kept sending him. Your resentment made him uncomfortable, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d be afraid that you’d poisoned his dinner. That was not your style though; he knew exactly how you liked to take your revenge. After all, he had experienced your wrath many times, and he had to admit you were very creative in creating your retaliations. He could never be entirely sure, or prove that you were the cause, but everything about the weird situations he’d been in the past years screamed your name.

There was one time that he’d gotten tens of phone calls every day for a week about a missing key. Even now, he occasionally gets calls about a key that was found. It seems quite innocent, but Lando’s phone was blowing up the entire week at the most inconvenient times: while he was in important meetings, when he was spending time with friends, even when he was streaming. Another time, Lando’s Netflix was completely messed up. All the recommendations on his home screen were for kids’ TV and romcoms. This, too, seems innocent enough, but after he had watched Netflix together with Daniel Ricciardo, and his homepage was filled with Cocomelon, The Kissing Booth, Riverdale and other films and series of the same genre, he had to hear about it for years to come. Some other time, Lando’s clothes mysteriously fell apart after only a few hours of wearing them after he’d stayed the night at Max's place at the same time as you. He didn't know how, but he was sure you had something to do with that too.

Although your reactions were very petty and often childish, Lando did admire your perseverance, resourcefulness and creativity. If he wasn’t always the victim of your crimes, he would have loved them, and perhaps even encouraged them, because, let’s be honest, it’s impressive if you can make someone’s clothes fall apart when you’re not even near them.

Lando didn’t really understand why he was always your victim, though. When you were younger, you’d gotten along fine, but as you’d gotten older you’d become meaner to him. He didn't know where things went wrong, and whether it was his fault or you just decided you were done with him. You used to tease each other, yes, but that was always mutual and lighthearted. Neither of you minded the comments that were made because you both knew it was all in good fun. At some point, you just started doing things like these, and Lando still doesn't know what initiated it.

You know exactly when it started, though. Everything was fine until Max and Lando hit puberty. Suddenly, they were ‘too cool’ to hang out with you, and you were excluded from all of their activities. The teasing didn’t really feel like teasing anymore, but rather mean comments that hurt you. Lando never caught onto your change in perception; he thought you still saw it as teasing. But the comments became more rude over time, and it felt like the boys who were your friends once, were now making fun of you.

Like when you were invited to apply for Honours College at your university. You were extremely proud that your grades in your regular courses were good enough to be admitted, and that you’d been invited to apply. But Lando just called you a nerd and laughed before continuing to talk about his own achievements, as if what you’d done was nothing important or impressive.

It wouldn’t have mattered much if it were any other friend of your brother, but Lando was important. You’d known him for about ten years, and he was basically a part of your family. What didn’t help either was that you had developed a small crush on him over the years. By the time he turned twenty, he’d gone through a glow-up. He finally learned how to deal with his curly hair and his face had matured to that of a handsome man. You were attracted to him, but his ugly personality distracted from his looks – most of the time.

Nevertheless, you wanted to impress Lando; to make him like you so he would stop with the off-handed comments. Though you weren’t necessarily good at sports or karting like he was, you excelled academically. You thought by showing your intelligence, you could gain his respect. Unknowingly, it made Lando feel dumb. He’d never even finished secondary school, and you were taking on extra classes in university without any troubles. He reacted differently than he would have liked to, but he thought you’d understand it was a joke.

Another time, you organised a last-minute surprise party for your brother. You had made sure there were decorations, music, food, and most importantly, drinks. You were happy with what you had managed to do in the time available, but your mood significantly worsened when Lando jokingly said you could have put in a little more effort. He was smiling when he said it, but it felt like he was making fun of you; of the amount of effort you had put in to make sure everything was organised as perfectly as possible. Despite his intention to tease, it didn't feel that way to you.

The comment that you believe triggered your best revenge was on Pietra’s birthday. She celebrated her birthday at Max’s apartment, and of course, you’d come to visit and celebrate with her. A few months before her birthday she’d shown you a top she really liked when she was online shopping, but the colour wasn’t right. So, for her birthday, you decided to crochet the top in her favourite colour. It was a bold choice because you didn’t have much experience crocheting, nevertheless, you tried. If she didn’t like it, you would just buy it from the store after all, or get her something else. You thought it looked pretty good, especially for your first try. Regardless, there were some mistakes and uneven shapes.

Pietra was completely surprised and elated with the present, especially when you told her you made it yourself. She knew how much time and effort it probably cost you to make it, but Lando didn't consider that when he commented on the piece.

“You made it yourself? Maybe you should practice a little more, huh?” He said, laughing, before handing it back to P.

You felt the smile drop from your face at the hurtful remark, but Lando was oblivious to the fact he hurt your feelings. Max turned to Lando in shock, while Pietra assured you that she loved the top, and couldn’t wait to wear it. You plastered a smile on your face, but it was obvious (to anyone but Lando) that it was fake. That night, after drinking your feelings away, you tore the seams in Lando’s clothes. Not every single one, but enough so it would fall apart after too much exertion; the punishment should fit the crime.

The anticipatory pleasure at the thought of Lando’s clothes tearing at an inconvenient moment was enough to satisfy you. When you heard about what happened a few days later from Max, you could barely keep your laugh back.

More recently, you had gone clubbing with your brother and his friends. It was an unusual event because your brother didn’t want to see you flirting or dancing with random boys in the club, but this time it was different. He knew you’d been stressed from school, and he’d rather you let loose when he’s there than when he’s not there to keep an eye on you. 

You were dancing with your brother and his friends when a cute boy came up to you, asking if he could buy you a drink. You said yes, of course. You would never refuse a free drink, especially in good, handsome, company, and you wanted to get over your small crush on Lando. You don’t know why or how, but he always seemed ten times hotter in a club, and you needed to get away from him. The longer you stayed near him, the more his pretty face and well-dressed body seemed to distract you from his unattractive personality, and that couldn’t happen. 

You followed the man to the bar and ordered a drink as he flirted with you. His attention was completely focused on you, but you kept getting distracted by the feeling of eyes on your back. It wasn’t until you were dancing in the middle of the large crowd that the feeling faded. You felt free without the supervision of your brother, and without Lando to distract you.

The man pulled your back closer to him, and you let him. You swayed from side to side with your arms in the air while he kissed his way down your neck. It didn’t feel right, but that didn’t matter; it was good enough. You liked the feeling of his lips on your neck and felt yourself get lost in the moment until suddenly there was a tug on your arm.

Your eyes opened in shock as you felt yourself get pulled away. The man you were dancing with didn’t seem to mind much and moved on with another girl standing nearby as you stared at Lando confused and disoriented.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him as you struggled to pull your arm from his firm grip.

“I’m taking you back to the group, you need to be more careful,” he explained.

You scoffed, “What? I was perfectly safe! Let me go!”

“Were you? He seemed untrustworthy,” Lando continued as he pulled you through the club.

“I was just having fun! God, you’re so annoying!” You say with a huff before walking back to your brother.

Lando watched you as you walked away. He didn't want you to dance with that man, or any man for that matter, even though he would never admit it. However, you had misunderstood his intentions. To you it seemed like he was interrupting your fun, cockblocking if you will, and it frustrated you to no end. 

For days to come, you complained to your brother about what happened, insisting that it was none of Lando’s business and he should’ve left you alone. However, your brother grew tired of your complaints really quickly and couldn’t deal with your issues anymore. Your ongoing dispute with Lando had dragged on for too long and it needed to be resolved, soon, before he went insane. During your next fight, Max would force the two of you to repair your relationship, whether you wanted to or not, because he simply couldn’t take it any longer.

It didn’t take long until your next fight. You were looking at pictures of Lando and Max on Instagram from when they went golfing a few days back when you spotted something. In one of the pictures, Lando was taking a photo with a camera, a camera which he had seemingly ‘borrowed’ from you without your knowledge. 

The second you saw him enter your parents’ house, you targeted him.

“You stole my camera?”

“Hello to you, too, Y/N,” he responded with a grin.

You rolled your eyes.

“Where is it, Lando,” you continued, stepping closer to him.

“I gave it to Max. He was supposed to give it back. He hasn’t yet?” 

“No, he hasn’t. And you shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”

Your gaze shifted to Max, who walked in behind Lando.

“Where is it, Max?” 

“In my room somewhere, I think.”

“Can you go grab it? Please?”

The words you said were much kinder than the way you said them. Max sighed before walking up the stairs to his room, you and Lando in tow. He looked around the room, getting on his knees to look under the bed.

“You put my camera under your bed?” You asked angrily.

“I’m not sure if I did, that’s why I’m looking, Y/N.”

Max thought this was the absolute worst. He had gotten himself pulled into one of your arguments again, and now he was being yelled at by you when it wasn’t his fault to begin with. He sighed before getting up. 

“I’ll just go grab my phone for the flashlight,” he said before leaving the room.

You merely nodded in response as you continued to look around the room in search of your camera when you heard the door close, the lock falling in place.

“Max? Did you just lock the door?”

Lando lifted his head from his place on the floor, where he was looking under the dresser, at your insinuation. He quickly changed his position to sit up, staring at the door with you.

“Yes, I did. The two of you need to make up. I won’t let you out until you get along. I can’t handle the two of you fighting anymore. It’s really fucking annoying,” he said through the door.

You looked at Lando in shock, to find him already staring back at you.

“Max, you can’t do this! What the fuck is wrong with you! Let us out!” You yelled as you knocked on the door.

When he didn’t react, you hit the door again, “Max!”

You looked at Lando at the lack of response, “Do something!” You said, but he merely looked at you.

“What am I supposed to do? Knocking the door won’t help. I actually think it might be a good idea for us to talk everything out.”

You looked at Lando in shock. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged while he stared at you, and you shook your head in response.

“I’m not doing this,” you said, pacing around the room while Lando followed you with his eyes as he sat on your brother’s bed, an amused smile on his face.

“I’m leaving,” you said, opening the window.

“What are you doing?” Lando asks, quickly getting up from the bed.

“I’m leaving,” you repeated, sitting on the window sill, throwing one leg outside.

“What have I done to you to make you this angry? I can’t believe you’d rather fall out of a window than talk to me,” Lando frowned.

You let out a choked laugh, mouth open in shock. “Are you serious? You don’t know what you’ve done?” You said as you sat on the window sill, one leg outside the window, the other still on the floor.

“Yes. Please tell me, because I’ve obviously missed a lot if you’re willing to climb out of a window. By the way, stop climbing out of the window!” Lando said, all but running to prevent you from dangling your other leg out of the window too. It was already halfway there, leaving you in a very uncomfortable position when Lando grabbed your leg.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, Y/N!” 

“No, I’m not,” you grunted out as you tried to kick him away. You leaned away from him, losing your grip on the windowsill at the exertion. Lando could barely catch you before you fell out of the window. 

“Fuck, Y/N! I told you to get away from the window!” He yelled as he pulled you away from it and back into the room before quickly closing the window. He stood in front of it as if he was trying to block your way from the window, trying to block your escape.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t be such a baby, I’m fine.” 

“Only because I was holding your leg.”

“If you weren’t holding my leg I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.” You stepped closer to him, huffing in defiance. 

Lando sighed, but he didn’t respond. He kept silent while he stared at you, challenging you as you crept closer without breaking eye contact. The tension in the room was palpable, and it only increased the longer you stared at each other. Your breath was shallow from the adrenaline of your near-fall, and your glare was met with a look of annoyance. Lando’s hands hung limply by his sides, the complete opposite of a mere moment ago when he grabbed you with such urgency.

"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Lando's voice was low, strained with frustration.

"Me?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You're the one who's always so demeaning, so... so infuriating!"

"Infuriating?" Lando repeated, scoffing. "Coming from the girl who sabotages my Netflix and sets up kiddie tables for me?"

"You deserved it," you retorted, folding your arms and looking down. "You always mock me and belittle everything I do, every achievement, every effort… Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Lando’s confidence faltered at your confession. His eyes softened, and he took a small step closer, stroking your arm softly. "I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I thought... I thought we were just joking around, teasing. I didn't realise-"

"Didn't realise what?" you interrupted, eyes brimming with tears. "That your words actually affect me? That I care what you think?"

Lando's hand reached out, tentatively brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was gentle, almost adoring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't know."

You closed your eyes, breathing out through your nose as you let the apology sink in. When you opened them again, the regret you saw in his eyes made you believe him. But it was the love and adoration in his gaze that convinced you.

"Lando..." you began, but your voice caught in your throat.

Before you could finish, Lando closed the distance between you, his hands cupping your face. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was longing. Slowly, almost apprehensively, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in an uncertain kiss.

Your initial surprise was quickly replaced by the warmth spreading through your body. Almost automatically, your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. The kiss deepened, filled with your pent-up frustration and unspoken feelings. Your hands slid up Lando's neck and you ran your hands through his hair, pulling on it softly. The sensation of Lando's hands on your body, and his lips against yours felt right, making everything else fade away.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Lando’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. You could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and you were certain your eyes showed the same.

“What… what just happened?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, which was now slightly tousled from your fingers. “I don’t know. But it felt… right.”

You swallowed, trying to make sense of all of the emotions running wild inside you. “We can’t just pretend this didn’t happen, Lando.”

“I don’t want to,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. 

You laughed softly at the situation, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder. Lando wrapped his arms around you straight away. 

“This is not what I expected to happen,” you whispered.

Lando chuckled softly. “Me neither, but it’s not so bad, is it?” 

You snuggled into his neck, sighing contently once you were comfortable. No, it wasn't bad at all.