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takimakiiiii · 1 month ago

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The Adventures of Loverboy and Twinkle Toes ~

lando norris x driver!female & platonic!grid x reader

angst, fluff, more angst with a dash of extra angst + established relationship + breakup

¡happy ending! dw, i’m not that mean

TW: swearing/profanity, bullying

WC: around 1k-ish?

disclaimer!: not all of these stats are accurate and the timeline doesn’t stick to the 2019 as it had to change for the story also the drivers had to be shuffled around for the story to make sense. basically it��s a big of a mess ALSO THERE IS USE OF Y/N IN THIS FIC

a/n: this has been sitting in my notes app for the last few month cuz i got bored one night at 3am

ALSO THE STARTING IS SO CHEESY SO LIKE BARE WITH ME IT GETS BETTER I SWEAR 😭

also with the driving parts it’s so bad okay I don’t even know what I’m talking and so pls don’t hate on me

sorry if it’s so bad I just wanted to finally post this so it doesn’t die w me in my notes app

<———————————��—————————————————————>

You first met Lando Norris at the ripe age of 8 and my god was he an asshole. A constant pain in the ass, he attended the same private British school you did in Bristol, an academy for only the brightest and well, richest in the country.

Lando Norris’s family was a wealthy and famous one too, it wasn’t a secret. Yours, on the other hand wasn’t, and that too wasn’t much of a secret either. You’d gotten a scholarship to attend the academy after winning a competition. And from the minute you stepped into the school Lando Norris never failed to make you feel like you didn’t belong there.

You came from a line of mechanics and at a young age your Father got you into karting. And it was clear you had a talent for it.

Well as expected, it didn’t sit well with Lando, you were the only girl. It didn’t sit well with any of the boys who you karted with. That brought along of other things too, you were treated like a boy, something that you’d come to expect whenever you stepped onto the track. The boys would call you horrible names, something such a young girl shouldn’t be hearing, they’d belittle your wins and make you feel like shit.

You were a girl who’d fallen for a boy’s sport.

Something Lando would constantly remind you over and over again - that you didn’t belong there. Not at the fancy rich academy and definitely not on the race track. Only to make matters worse, he was incredible at karting. By the time you were both seniors at the academy he was already well on his way to the glory of F1.

Yet somehow you both were always the ones battling in that final lap, perhaps that’s what made him hate you so much was because you offered something no one else could: competition.

“Hey Twinkle Toes, you’ve got balls coming back onto the track after what you pulled last time.” a voice cut through the silence of the garage.

That same voice that had been annoying you for years on end, snapped you from your train of thought. You looked up and saw Lando pulling his gloves on, looking down on you as you sat on the steps of the garage. Something inside you began to tick, like a bomb about to go off.

He was referring to your last competition in which you’d pushed him off the track, unintentionally of course but he didn’t see it that way. He’d had a good yell at you afterwards in front of everyone, embarrassing you in front of all the other boys too. You clenched your fists as you stood up, yet his height was unmatched as you glared up at him. You hoped your face was able to match up the words that were about to leave your mouth.

“Yeah? Well at least I have balls dipshit.” you retorted angrily as you picked your helmet up from the stairs.

You turned around and he was now closer, a few mere centimetres away from your face. You nearly caught yourself jumping in surprise but managed to keep a collected face as he spoke.

“If you try that again today you’re going to wish you never stepped foot onto that track. Got it, Twinkle Toes?” his voice was laced with poison as he stared straight down at you. You stared back into his deep green eyes that seemed to glint with a harshness you’d grown to hate. You poked your inner cheek as you bit back an insult, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Loverboy.” you replied with a humorous chuckle as you walked past him. You could basically feel the anger radiating off him as you exited the garage, heading in the direction of the track as your pulled your helmet on.

<—————————————————————————————————>

“What? Do you think you’re better at karting than me?” Lando asked as he lowered himself to your level, you were still sitting at your desk. His hands were down on the wooden table as he glowered down at you. Class had just finished for lunch and to explain it briefly - Lando wasn’t happy how the race had ended that weekend.

“I don’t think I’m better than you, Lando Norris. I know I am. So why don’t you stop being such a dramatic prick and leave me alone.” you shot back with a smile, knowing that would piss him off. You picked up your books and stood up, he did the same, now towering over you once again. You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your bag off the chair.

“You’re so full of yourself, you don’t belong here Twinkle Toes, you never have and you never will. You’re a fucking outsider.” he replied, you swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. You knew you shouldn’t take his dumb remarks to heart but the words would often eat you alive because deep down you knew he was right. Surrounded by all these rich kids with their rich parents, compared to them you were absolutely nothing.

“Fuck you, Norris.” you spat, inhaling slowly, looking away so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Go cry about it.”

And that’s how you found yourself sobbing in the bathrooms during lunch.

You could hear hushed whispers outside of the stall as other girls walked in and out of the bathroom. You knew they could hear you crying, yet none of them had the decency to even ask if you were okay. Rich British people were just like that, you guessed as you wiped your face with the back of your hand.

“Is someone crying in there?” a girls voice whispered in a hushed tone outside of the stall, you could see two pairs of black shoes and white socks from underneath the door.

“Yeah. I think it’s-“ the other girl replied, voice dropping low out of earshot. There were more hushed whispers before you heard one last remark.

“He’s such an asshole.”

That, you could agree on.

There was a moment of silence before a gentle knock came through from the other side of the door. Your heart jumped in your chest as you stared at the stall door, the girls on the other side still unknown.

“Hey girl? You okay in there?” one of the girls asked. You weren’t sure how to answer so you got to your feet and slowly unlocked the stall door. It swung open to reveal two girls, one a tall sun kissed girl with beautiful braids. The other, a pretty asian girl you recognised from French class, her name was Lisa or something.

“Hi.” you finally said. There was a long dreading moment of silence as you waited for them to laugh in your face but it didn’t come.

“It was what’s his name, Lanky Norris or something, right? He likes to pick you on, doesn’t he?” the tall girl asked, you instantly liked her. You let out a laugh through tears, the two girls smiled, success clear on their faces.

“Yeah.” you nodded, wiping your face for any stray tears that still lingered on your cheeks.

“He’s so annoying, the only reason he’s here is because his Daddy’s rich, ya know?” she grimaced as she crossed her arms.

“You’re also here because of your Daddy’s money, Sandy.” Lisa reminded her with a gentle nudge, you let out a laugh at Sandy’s frown.

“Okay, calm your farm, girl. I’m trying to insult him to make our new friend here feel better.” she shot back, throwing an incredulous look your way as she shook her head.

Lisa held her hands up in defence with a grin on her face.

“Okay, okay. Well, Y/N, let’s get you out of here and get you something to eat.” she suggested. The two girls pulled you out from the bathroom stall and you left the bathroom with two new friends and a smile.

<—————————————————————————————————>

Lando had heard the rumours going around, two popular girls he wasn’t a big fan of had found you in the girl’s bathroom crying. He knew he was the one at fault for that, Lando knew you weren’t as strong as you came off to be. But he always let his pride and selfishness take over because the truth was you were right, you were better than him. And he knew it too.

And that’s what pissed him off the most is that you were and would always be better than him. Not only at karting, in school and everything else too.

He guessed he owed you an apology, the hard truth was that he sort of admired your strength, you weren’t as strong as you came off to be because you were much more stronger. He’d seen you be treated badly by most of the other boys on the track, but he was too much of a coward to stick up for you because that would mean his feelings for you would be obvious. If only you knew-

“What do you want, Norris?”

He stopped in his tracks oblivious to the fact that he’s stopped right next to your locker. His palms instantly became clammy like they did each time he saw you as he attempted to find his words that had gotten caught in his throat.

“I didn’t- I mean- “ he stumbled on his words, mentally cursing himself as he made a fool of himself in front of you.

You let out a scoff as you shut your locker door with a loud SLAM, gaining the attention of other students who lingered around, their eyes floating toward you both. Lando flinched from the sound, becoming aware of the surrounding eyes.

“Save it. Your words mean nothing but shit to me.” you spat angrily.

Lando stood defeated as he watched you walk away. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, his mind was telling him to do something, but what? He didn’t know.

“I’M SORRY!” he yelled at the top of his voice before he lost the courage to do anything at all. Everyone in the hallway stopped to stare at him. If people hadn’t been interested, they sure were now. A scarlet red hue appeared across his face as you slowly turned and walked up to him, a giant grin on your face.

“What’d you say? I don’t think I heard it the first time?” you held your hand to your ear, propping up on your heels. He let out a sigh, you could be a big pain in the ass when you wanted to be. Yet he could still fell his heart beating ever so loudly in his chest.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, aware of all the eyes now watching you both.

“Didn’t catch that, wanna repeat it one more time?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips as you leaned closer which only made his face redder.

“Fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all those thing. It was dumb and fucking stupid. You do belong here, hell you’re probably the only one who does, you didn’t use your parents money to get here unlike the rest of us. So, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve all of the shit I’ve put you through the last few years.”

You pulled away, staring him in the eyes you nodded. A silent thank you.

“It’s alright, Norris. It’s no secret i’m better than you anyways.” you chimed with a laugh. Lando felt his heart flutter as your laugh echoed through the hallway.

“C’mon, we have English class.” you turned on your heel and that’s all it took for Lando to follow after.

<—————————————————————————————————>

School passed in a quick intense blur as both you and Lando graduated in no time. A couple months after becoming close friends you’d gotten together, a bit of a shock to everyone at school who’d only ever seen you fighting before. Especially Lisa and Sandy, whom you were still close with despite your busy schedule now.

Your relationship with Lando was going great, both of you had slowly moved from the ranks of F4 to F3 to F2 and now you were both at the age of 19 soon to make your F1 debuts.

Lando had signed with McLaren, a team he’d had close ties with ever since he was a teenager his father was a close associate with Zak Brown. Lando alongside Carlos Sainz were to be the 2019 McLaren team.

You, on the other hand had signed with Ferrari, a big dream ever since you were a young kid. You were going to be driving with Charles Leclerc, a guy who was like a god to your family. You’d be driving alongside some of the greatest drivers of all time, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Fernando Alonso and many more.

It was no secret that you were dating Lando, most of the public seemed to take it well and the media weren’t too concerned with trying to pry into your relationship. One thing you were thankful for. Yet you were oblivious to the fact that it might change once everything started in F1.

You knew with Formula 1 more obstacles would come your way and attempt to break you and Lando’s relationship, you just hoped it would be enough to stand it all.

“Hey love? You alright?” Lando’s voice sailed across the living room of your parents’ house from the kitchen. Your silence when he asked a question prompted him to check if you were okay.

“Yep.” you quickly replied, laughing when Lando poked his head from around the corner for the sole purpose to raise his eyebrows at you.

“You sure? Wanna talk about it?” he offered, walking over to you and joining you on the couch. You smiled as you pressed up against him, pecking him gently on his cheek.

“Just thinking about what it’ll be when the season starts.” you told him as he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lean against him. His touch allowing a sense of peacefulness in the moment making you believe it would be okay.

“Me too. It’s kinda of scary isn’t it? Everything we dreamt of is coming true.” Lando mused as he leant his head down against yours. You let out a gentle exhale, “Yeah.”

There was a long moment of calm silence as you both sat there in the comfort of one another. Lando drew circles on your palm with his fingers as you closed your eyes.

“But. . .?” Lando offered, looking down at you with a soft smile. You chuckled, “You know me so well.” you grinned as you nestled your face in the crook of his neck.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked.

You let out another sigh as you pulled away facing the tv that was playing FRIENDS.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just scared of what might happen to. . . us. You know? I’ve seen what can happen to couples when their lives are shoved into the spotlight.” you held your breath as you looked up at him, awaiting his reaction.

He gently rested his head on yours again, relieving the tightness inside you.

“That’s not going to happen to us, I promise, Twinkle Toes. I trust you, I trust us. I always have. Whatever happens we’ll get through it together” he assured you with such certainty it nearly made you believe him. You smiled, he always managed to make your heart flutter no matter how long you’d been together. The chemistry had managed to continue after all these years was unmatched.

“I love you, Loverboy.”

“Love you more, Twinkle Toes.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“ITS LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest as you hit the accelerator, the car moving forward to your command. It almost didn’t seem real, the loud cheers of the people in the grandstands were one to rival a concert.

It was the same exhilarating feeling each time you raced, pressure but nonetheless excitement resting on your shoulders. The first few laps went by smoothly, you were in P12 after beginning in P14 after qualifying. Not too bad if you could say so yourself.

Soon enough you found yourself in the second last lap, you were currently in P6 after a spinning out from Daniel Ric took out three other drivers. The commotion after that had lasted quite a while as everyone was forced to wait. But the race still continued, a certain McLaren was on your tail as you both fought for P6. You were struggling to keep Lando at bay, defence was never one of your strengths. In this case it proved to be a big liability.

The waving checkered flag came around in no time as you and Lando crossed the finish line half a second apart.

“Who’s pole?” you asked your radio engineer as you pulled off the race track, loud cheers greeting you as you stopped the car.

“Hamilton, P1, Verstappen P2 and Leclerc P3.” your radio engineer replied.

“Sweet, that’s great for Charles.” you replied, “Good job guys, P6, that’s not half bad.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

The 2019 Championship went by in a quick exhilarating blur. And so did 2020, 2021 and 2022. Covid posed a problem for a while but everyone managed. Lando and you had been stuck at home focusing on other things, he with his Twitch channel and you on your own things.

Maybe you chose to ignore it, too focused on your career to pay attention to the cracks that had begun to surface in you and Lando’s relationship.

So now here you were in off-season awaiting 2023. Both unsure of what to do with each other’s time after being away from one another for so long.

“Hey, love? You going to come sit down and eat?” Lando’s voice called from the kitchen table. You’d moved in together in an apartment in Monaco not long after your first F1 season. A sense of hopelessness tainted his words, one you chose to ignore.

“Yep! Give me like one second!” you yelled back from your bedroom. You knew you had to stop pretending everything was fine, it clearly wasn’t and you both knew it too.

It was the time and the media at fault, something you would constantly tell yourself over and over again. Yet if you really thought about it you could only really blame yourself. There was no use in blaming all of those other things if it was just the two of you in the relationship.

You got up and walked into the dining room, smiling softly upon seeing Lando sitting down already. But the smile wasn’t reciprocated on his face and the one on yours had vanished by the moment you got to the table.

“Y/N, I think we need to talk.” he said gently, looking up at you. You let out a breath one you hadn’t noticed you were holding, nodding as you replied. “Yeah.” you breathed, the shakiness in your voice evident.

You took a seat across from him and awaited for everything to spill out.

“What’s been happening? What happened to us?” his simple words hung in silence as you found your own.

“I don’t - I don’t know.” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes that you knew were filled with disappointment, you stared down at the plate in front of you.

“Then why haven’t we tried to fix it? Is this it? Do you not want to be with me anymore?” he asked, his voice breaking as he looked at you helplessly for your answer. Your heart jumped as you looked up at him, his face breaking your heart as they searched your eyes for an answer.

“No! Lando, of course I want to be with you, I just- I’m scared.” you inhaled, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. Your heart was thumping loud in your chest as you closed your eyes.

“Scared of what?” Lando asked, reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. You took another breath in. . . and the words slipped out.

“They want me to take your seat at McLaren.”

“What?”

“No- It’s not what it sounds like, I promise. I just found out, I swear. I was going to tell you when they told me but I-” you stammered as you searched to find some way to salvage from the damage that was now done.

“When did you find out?” Lando asked, his hand had now retracted from holding yours and now at his side. Your lip wobbled, unable to lie to him you answered, your throat closing in on you. It was something impossible, a change in seats and teams being so close cut to the season?

It was basically impossible and yet here you were.

“At the end of last season.” you managed to say as your voice wobbled.

That was well off two months ago.

You knew you should’ve told him the moment they suggested it to you. It would’ve been the right thing to do but you just could never find a good time to tell him. Yet that was just something you’d told yourself to make it seem better.

Lando let out a scoff, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, standing out of his chair, a loud scraping noise filled the apartment, dinner on the table long forgotten. You stared up at him, regret tainted your face.

You stood up too, reaching out for him.

“I did, I mean I tried to. I just didn’t know how to tell you, they didn’t want me to. I know I should’ve told you. I’m sorry Lan, I really am.” you stammered, tripping over your own words.

He pulled away from your grasp like you had burnt him. “I thought we were in this together, I trusted us, I thought you did too. But apparently not.”

“No, wait, Lando. Stop, where are you going?” you asked helplessly as you followed him to the door. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen bench, unable to look in your direction as he answered.

“I have to go. Go somewhere away from you.”

The front door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed against the wall in a heap of sobs.

<—————————————————————————————————>

A week passed and Lando didn’t come back home. You called him, texted, all of them going to either voicemail or delivered and unanswered.

You tried asking the other drivers of the grid whether they’d spoken to him but they all answered with the same thing: that he’d asked them to leave him alone for the time being.

You hated yourself right now. You should’ve told him the moment McLaren offered his seat to you. You had been scared that if he knew he’d leave, and well, keeping it from him resulted in just the same thing you wanted to avoid.

You wanted to feel mad, mad at him because your selfishness couldn’t help but want to blame him. Yet, you knew it was wrong, the only person at fault was you. So here you sat in the waiting lobby of McLaren, surrounded by so many people who were associates with Lando it made you feel like a fool. You felt as if everyone was staring at you and not only that but judging hard as if they knew what had happened.

That’s when you spotted him, Lando was walking through the lobby, he was in the same clothes as that night. Your heart dropped as you stood up, unsure of what you were going to say him but you pressed forward. Your footsteps echoed around the lobby as you caught up to Lando who wasn’t yet aware of your presence.

“Lando!” you called, he paused and hesitantly turned around to face you. All those walls you’d broken down throughout the years were now back up again as he stared at you coldly. And it was just like it was back in school, Lando staring down at you as you looked up at him helplessly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly as he looked pass you, unable to meet your gaze. You swore your heart broke a little when he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Please don’t do this, Lando. I know I messed up. I should’ve told you the second they offered the seat to me. I didn’t want to lose you, I thought that if you knew you’d leave.”

“Well looks like you’ve lost me either way. I don’t care about the seat, Y/N. I care about the fact that you chose to hide it from me, I thought we were in this together.” his eyes flitted from your eyes to away as he took a step backwards. You could feel him slipping from your heart, you reached forward.

“We can! Please, I promise we can fix this, I can fix this. Just don’t leave me, please.” the words tumbled out of you only to come out as desperate and pathetic. It was wrong, you knew it too.

“I can’t do this right now, Y/N. I have to go meet Fred Vasseur at Ferrari.”

“Ferrari?”

Lando let out a sigh, stepping past you as he replied.

“Yeah. Ferrari’s offered me your seat.”

You felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach as you watched Lando walk out the McLaren doors. Tears slipped from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you stifled a sob in your hands. You watched him leave, taking your heart with him.

<—————————————————————————————————>

A couple of months later

“Race in 15 minutes.” a voice called in passing as you sat on the steps of your garage. Your eyes floated around to where Oscar stood next to one of the engineers, both peering down at a screen, jabbing at something on it every so often whilst nodding.

Oscar was the other driver who joined the grid this year to race alongside you with Mclaren. He was a young polite funny Australian guy and from what you’d heard and seen- one of the best drivers of the newest generation. He’d already impressed you before on numerous occasions when you would go with Lando to go watch the F2 races when you got the chance. The two of you would go watch your old buddies race and join them in drinking afterwards.

“All good.” you replied, anxiousness creeping its way into your voice as you attempted to banish any thought of Lando. You swallowed hard as you pulled your gloves on, hands trembling as they did before any race.

It was the first race of the 2023 season, there was a new lineup of drivers, some old, some new. Many of the drivers had transferred teams, this included both you and Lando, Carlos, Daniel Riccardo making his comeback and a couple of others.

You and Lando had both decided to call it quits after the whole thing that went down during the off-season. The other drivers were aware of what had happened and honestly it didn’t take a lot of thinking to put the two things together. You and Lando had swapped seats at Ferrari and McLaren, and alongside it your relationship had crumbled and fallen apart. Charles and Max, the two drivers you were closest with and looked up to like brothers had also provided comfort, saying they would’ve done the same. But you knew it wasn’t true, they just said it to make you feel better.

You and Lando hadn’t spoken since the day he’d packed everything up and left the apartment. You’d been absent when he’d left.

Neither of you had the bravery to reach out yet and neither of you could too busy with other things. Yet, two months later you still missed him, longing for his comfort and endless love he’d given you. It made you feel sick, it all felt so misplaced and wrong.

Both Sandy and Lisa had provided you with solace and comfort with their weekly movie nights at your apartment with buckets of ice cream. But it wasn’t the same, you still felt like you were missing something. Or someone. And either way, it would’ve been Lando.

Life just felt so wrong without him. There wasn’t anyone to ramble to each time you came back from work, no one to sit down with and watch corny movies with popcorn with. No one to sit on the balcony with and watch the stars late at night, no one to go on day trips to beach with and build sandcastles only for them to be swallowed by the ocean at the end of the day.

All of those things you’d found within Lando ever since Day 1. He was the person who kept you grounded, the person who’d stay up rubbing circles on your palms late at night when you couldn’t fall asleep or who would keep you company as you cooked in the kitchen.

And all because of a few dumb thoughts you’d lost it all in a mere few days. If you could turn back time you would’ve gone back and fixed everything. Now the only thing you could do was sit and wallow in regret and self pity.

<—————————————————————————————————>

You felt a soft tapping on your helmet, you looked up through the visor of your helmet to see Charles standing next to you, a wide spread grin on his face.

You broke into a smile as you stood up, pulling your helmet off.

“Hey old man, what’s up?” you greeted your former teammate with a hug. His smile dropped, replaced with a grimace upon hearing the nickname from you.

“Came to see you, you traitor. Can’t believe you’d choose this colour over this colour.” he remarked in disgust as he pointed to your suit and then his own. You had to admit, the bright red did look a lot nicer than the papaya orange you were currently sporting.

“Part of the job, I can’t say no unfortunately. It’ll grow onto me eventually.” you shrugged spreading your arms out and looking down at the papaya coloured suit.

Charles clicked his tongue dismissively before his expression turned soft, something you’d seen too much of lately.

“You sure you okay though? Have you spoken to-“ he cleared his throat, leaning in before whispering, “Lando.” like it was some sort of forbidden word. You bit back a laugh.

“It’s okay you can say his name.” You chuckled, Charles eyed you suspiciously.

“Are you sure? Because the last time I did you cried for 2 hours.” He answered.

You swatted him defensively, “That was ages ago!”

“That was last week.”

“Whatever.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Will you talk to him?” Charles asked.

“Nah, it’s fine though, we can’t talk. Not for now at least.” you told him, but your voice was strained as your eyes flickered around the garage. Charles knew you hadn’t taken breaking up with Lando well. As your “older brother” alongside Max the two of them made it their sole mission to keep you from harms way, that being Lando.

He looked at you with pity, you caught his eye before scoffing. Wallowing in self pity was something you’d done too many times this year.

“Don’t look at me like that, Charles.” You said, letting out a huff.

“Like what, Y/N?” he prompted cautiously. You couldn’t get pissed at Charles, he knew it too. After all, that’s what a big brother did, annoy the shit out of you.

“That you feel bad for me. I’m fine, I swear.”

But you didn’t believe the words that came out from your mouth either. He chuckled as he ruffled your hair affectionately before you swatted his hand away.

“I know you are, petite soeur.”

Your nose scrunched up at the nickname Charles had dubbed you ever since your first season. It meant little sister in French or something like that, you were yet to Google it.

He let out one of his contagious laughs before patting you on the back gently, before leaning in and whispering;

“But seriously, if you want Max and I can push him off the track anytime.”

“Okay, time to go, old man.” you said as you shoved him out the garage door. He rounded the corner with one last dumb grin and salut.

“See you out there, petite soeur!”

<—————————————————————————————————>

1 more lap to go.

You could feel your foot getting a cramp from switching between the accelerator and brake, you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your neck and your breathing was heavy.

Right next to you, battling for P2 was Lando. Such a coincidence. Thanks universe, you thought as you turned the steering wheel as you rounded turn 3. Max was long gone in the distance probably nearing the checkered flag already leaving the rest of the grid in dust.

Zhou and Stroll were out already both crashing into the same barriers at turn 7, something you were used to at this point. (IM JOKING, I love them)

In the corner of your eyes you could see and feel Lando closing in on you, pushing you off the track.

You gripped the steering wheel, turning it in the direction of the Ferrari but he was quick to use this as a chance to slip in front of you as you both rounded a corner. You hit the steering wheel angrily as you watched Lando in front of you.

A long strand of curse words left your mouth as you crossed the finish line. The FIA was sure to have fun with that.

Your heart was pounding in your ears loudly as you pulled the car aside to a stop. Your team cheered, you’d gotten on the podium. But it wasn’t a win to you, you’d fallen for Lando’s terribly obvious trap and allowed him to take advantage. You felt like such a fool, he seemed to have that effect on you.

Thanks, universe, you’re a pain in the ass, you thought as your team surrounded you celebrating loudly. Any thought of Lando disappeared in an instant as you were pulled into hugs from your team and instead replaced with smiles and laughter.

You were pulled up onto the platform next to Max, and Lando whom you avoided interacting with the entire podium stand part. Everything after that was a quick blur until the after race press conference.

“Here we’re joined by Max Verstappen, Lando Norris and Y/N

L/N.”

You forced a smile, honestly the only thing you wanted right now was to be at home eating ice cream with Sandy and Lisa. Or be sleeping, you’d be okay with either of those options. Yet, here you were sitting on a couch alongside your friend and ex-boyfriend in front of a bunch of reporters.

You glanced over at Max who’d thoughtfully placed himself in between both you and Lando. Something you were sure to thank him for afterwards. He sent you a gentle smile, one you returned without hesitation.

The first couple of questions were pretty simple ones, you avoided adding onto Lando’s answers and he to yours and there was no need to.

That was until a young female reporter took the opportunity to ask about you and Lando’s relationship. Something that caught you unprepared and by surprise.

“So Y/N and Lando,” she began, you could feel your heartbeat spiking as you looked around, every PR training you’d sat through instantly disappearing from your mind.

“There’s been rumours going around that the seat transition wasn’t something that was thoroughly discussed before the contract signing. Is there something you’d like to add on about this?”

You swallowed hard as you avoided meeting Lando’s gaze, one you could see in the corner of your eye.

“N-no comment.” you managed to say.

“Right. So how about you and Lando’s relationship status, there’s been some sources claiming-“

“Okay. I think that’s enough. We’re here to answer questions about the race, nothing else.” Max cut off as he stepped in with a stern voice, one that was sure to make anyone go silent. You prayed to god that no one heard the giant sigh of relief that you let out after Max interjected. You could feel yourself shrinking under the stares of all the reporters and photographers as you sat in front of them.

The rest of the conference went by in plain awkwardness, answers were now only answered by Max, yet another thing you had to thank him for.

You finally exhaled as you stepped out of the conference room, Max behind you, Lando had gone out the other door. You leant against the empty corridor wall, head pressed against the cool plaster.

“That was a nightmare.” you groaned loudly, the exhaustion obvious in your voice. Max let out a sigh as he crossed his arms disapprovingly.

“That was unacceptable on their side to allow the reporter to keep asking such questions.” Max mused, anger tainted his voice. You let out a laugh as you turned to him.

“Thanks, Maximilian.” you broke into a grin knowing how much he hated being called that. He huffed disapprovingly, “Maybe next time I wont save your sorry ass.”

“Okay, okay. Calm your farm, pal.” you replied as you both began walking down the corridor headed toward the entrance where there was sure to be a giant crowd waiting.

“I’ll go get that reporter fired.” Max announced loudly despite it only being the two of you in the corridor. You looked up at him, holding back a laugh despite the look on his face being the opposite.

“Admirable goals, but it’s fine really. I’m sure Twitter will have a fun time tearing her apart.” you waved it off with a gentle smile knowing just how brutal the audience on Twitter could be.

Max chuckled, “Everything else okay though?” You knew instantly what he was talking about, you appreciated the concern, you really did but you could handle yourself.

Your smile fell, replaced with narrow eyes and a clenched jaw as you eyed him.

“Did Charles put you up to this?” you asked him skeptically, he shook his head.

“I’m allowed to worry about you too, you know.” he added with a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks Maximilian, for everything.”

“Okay, you can shut up now.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“Y/N?”

“One second!” you called, trying to avoid the oil that was spattering into a puddle beside your face. You were currently in your father’s mechanic shop underneath a car working away at it. You were still blowing off steam after the press conference that had happened on the weekend and your father was more than happy to lend you the garage for just that. You knew some part of you wanted Lando to approach you after the race, even if it wasn’t to talk but just to say something, you know?

But even if he had you were sure how you’d react.

“Can you pass me the wrench?” you called to the unknown person. You heard a loud clatter of metal before a wrench was stuck in your face.

“Thanks.” you grumbled as you took it from them, pausing as a shock of realisation hit you.

Wait, that watch on their wrist.

Your dumbass tried sitting up on the board while still under the car.

BAM.

“Ouch, fucking hell.” you swore loudly as you pulled yourself out from underneath the car. Rubbing your forehead in pain as you stood up, before your eyes settled on the person in front of you.

Your mind blanked as Lando stared back at you. You could see him biting back a laugh at your misfortune. He was in a white shirt, one button too many undone for you to know where this was going. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he stood watching you as you walked his way.

“Fine. Laugh, you asshole.” you grumbled as you brushed past him. Gripping the wrench in your fist as you held back the strong urge to whack his head in with it. Lando laughed and you’d be lying if the sound of it didn’t still make your insides turn and do flips.

“Calm down Twinkle Toes, I’m not here to laugh at you. I’m here to . . . apologise.” his tone turning serious, you let out an steady exhale.

You missed being called that, it was a dumb nickname he’d given you as children, back when you were each other’s biggest rivals on the track.

Twinkle Toes and Loverboy, a duo to rival Chandler and Joey. Or at least that’s what your dumb asses came up with at the time.

You let the wrench fall from your grip and onto the bench with a loud metallic clatter, breaking the silence before you spoke.

“Yeah.” you breathed, staring at the wall in attempt to not let your guard slide down so easily.

“Want to go for a ride?”

You turned around with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed and all. Lando stared back at you, heat flushing up your cheeks as a smile tugged at his lips.

“What?”

“C’mon, Twinkle Toes, let’s get out of here.” he said with a gentle nod of his head in the direction of his car parked outside.

And that’s all it took for you to drop everything and follow him out the garage.

<————————————————————————————-—————>

You let out a soft gasp when Lando pulled up at the track where you both used to race on during your karting days. The sun was already beginning to slip back the mountains and buildings and out of view, you bit your lip nervously as you opened the car door.

Was this right?

Were you making a big mistake?

Despite your lingering doubts you followed him onto the empty track. The first few minutes of walking were full of silence, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable despite everything that had happened. It was peaceful of all things.

“I-“

You both immediately retracted your words as you both began at the same time. You looked away, “God this worse than that movie we watched that one time.” you murmured with a soft laugh. Lando found himself chuckling knowing exactly which movie you were talking about.

“Let me go first, then.” he offered, you nodded silently. A long string of silence filled the air, only the sound of your footsteps on the track could be heard.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Honestly? I would’ve done the same thing. I shouldn’t have given so easily on us, I should’ve given us a second chance. Because bloody hell these last two months without you have been absolute shit. I don’t even know who I am without you, and maybe in someway that’s a bad thing but I don’t care as long as I have you.” he stopped in his tracks and faced you, his dark green eyes reflecting the light in the sunset as it cast its gaze over his face.

Your hand cupped his cheek softly, your heart fluttering when he pressed his face into your hand, loving how it fit perfectly.

Just like that it was like you were both high schoolers again. Slipping out of class to steal kisses in the hallways before they were crowded with students. Sneaking out at night through your window to go walk around the streets late together.

You swallowed hard and spoke.

“After everything happened, my life completely just stopped still. And it felt like I had lost half of who I was because the truth is, Lando, that you’re a part of me. Ever since we were kids it’s like without you i’m lost. I should’ve told you the moment they offered me the seat, I was just ashamed and scared. Because I wanted a future with you, because I still do. I want to marry you, have a family and grow old right next to you.”

You stared longingly into his eyes as he pulled you closer. You fell into his arms as they wrapped around you like your own protective shield. Because the truth was that Lando was your home. You let out a shaky breath, as you pulled back and leant in for a kiss only for your lips to be captured in a gentle motion.

It was something out of a cheesy teen movie, one that the two of you would just hate - two figures kissing as the sun set in the back of a race track.

“You’re crazy.” you whispered against his lips.

“Crazy for you.” he whispered back, sending you both into fits of laughter. This was it, this was right, this was home.

“C’mon, let’s go home Twinkle Toes.”

“After you, Loverboy.”

A/n: STOP ITS SO CRINGEY I WANNA DIEE

Jk.

Tysm for reading! I apologise again for the bad writing, this is just an old piece that I really wanted to get out there, I hope u cringed just as much as I did reading this! Stay safe and have an amazing day - xoxo takimakiiii (yes I changed my name it was long overdue lol)

#lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando x you #oscar piastri #charles leclerc x reader #f2 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 angst

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martsonmars · 1 year ago

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@messofthejess asked: If each member of the Carry On cast was a type of pasta, what type would they be?

[Tumblr killed the ask]

OMG obsessed. Thank you for the question it's so important to me. I'm limiting myself to the main gang but PLEASE (you or anyone else) feel free to send asks or comment with other characters, I'd love to answer but I don't want to feel overwhelmed with choices.

I'm also not letting myself overthink this. There might be better answers but I'm going with gut feelings or I'll never post this. I'm going with shapes.

Baz is definitely long pasta. Reginette, with they're elegant, fancy, sharp edges. I just know the guy doesn't want to fit in the pot. So many people don't know how to handle him. Long and thin. HARD TO KILL BUT NOT TO BREAK. And when he's safe he reveals his true form. Which is still hard to handle. You need practice. You might be tempted to cut into smaller pieces. But the only way to actually savour who he is is to get past all these obstacles and wrap him around your fork and you finally understand. He could be trenette/linguine too but mostly because in my region they're eaten with pesto, and you know. Basil. Etc.

Simon is rigatoni or tortiglioni or any of the similar shapes. He's a sturdy pasta. A fighter. One the people love, but might take for granted. And yet he'll always be ready to save your meal, square shoulders and jaw. He's ready to take any challenge, and when it's finally time to rest he won't let himself go too soft. He'll keep his fierce, solid, thick shape and demand to be loved strongly. He can take it. And we all know that this is the kind of pasta to eat with a nice, rich sauce, just like our boy deserves. A sauce that sticks, that fills up all the spaces. Because we know that holes just want to be filled.

Penny is penne. Of course. The name speaks for itself, but it's also a correct choice. A no bullshit shape. One that thinks she's better than anyone else, but is she? Only trial and error will tell. But she remains a solid choice, reliable and always there for you if you're one of her trusted friends. She'll never let you down. As long as she doesn't start doubting herself. But she won't for too long, because who would doubt penne?

Agatha is difficult. I'm going with farfalle. She's pretty and elegant and sophisticated, but also misjudged and belittled and mistreated. People will see only what's on the outside and take it at face value — seeing her as too good to be true, or instead as childish and not caring about what truly matters — and won't delve deeper to see the truth. Which is that her core — the core of her beauty, of her power — is stronger than one thinks.

Shep is one of my favourite shapes — ruote. I was going to pick lasagne for him (rich and intense and friendly and happy to use their layers to host different kinds of savoury experiences), but this is perfect too. For his truck, his sense of adventure, chasing tornadoes and creatures and friends and never letting anything — danger or unpleasant British mages — stop him from being one of the best guys you'll have the fortune of meeting on your path.

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chaoscomesfirst · 3 months ago

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Welcome :3

This is a blog dedicated to the ocs and world of @stormyfis (mod 🦈) and @caly-opaleye (mod 🦖)

Here we document the adventures (and misadventures!) of a few special residents of Splonk City who are more than they seem:

Kira: a girl with a knack for trouble and an unhealthy caffeine addiction, as well as studying medicine and chemistry, Kira has a few ideas that turn out more than explosive. Operating under the name ‘Dr. Sparkles’, she’s an incredibly dorky supervillain who rangers from glitterbombs to war crimes.

Alexander: fancy rich British boy, literature student and childhood friend of Kira’s, he’s the sidekick and voice of reason to her crazy ideas. With a knack for poetry and writing, as well as a bit of engineering, he helps Kira with her schemes as her right hand man, Professor Mayhem.

Miah: is insanely flexible and really likes cats. Her villian name, Mistress Calamity, came to her one day when she was listening to pop music in her room. She has a part time job working in a craft store, which is were she met Sparkles.

Barnaby: Mistress Calamity's sidekick. He's kind of chill and really doesn't want to be there. Their pronouns vary from He/They to He/Him on a bad day, and only Calamity and his boyfriend (Sam) can tell which it is. He works in a mechanic store and creates all of the gadgets for Calamity. No matter how many times he asks, Calamity rarely uses his villian name, Gelignite.

Lore will be tagged with #lore post and art with #art

#mod 🦈#mod 🦖#Kira #Alexander #Miah #Barnaby #Dr. Sparkles #Professor Mayhem #Mistress Calamity #Gelignite #lore post #intro post

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shinygoku · 2 months ago

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Tagged by @bambi-kinos ! Thank ya~ :>

Favorite Movie: Back to the Future, but honourable mention to North by Northwest, Pinocchio (1940), the other BttF films and, of course AHDN, Help! and Yellow Submarine [these all being for different reasons lmao]

Favorite TV Show: Dragonball (OG, Z, and GT), Columbo, Thunderbirds (Both 1965 and 2015 applicable), Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons (1967), Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends (s1 and s2)

Favorite Musical Artists: Other than The Bug Boys, I'd previously listened to a fair few other British Bands, like ELO, Supertramp, David Bowie, and Pink Floyd. I'm also very keen on Videogame soundtracks from series like Super Mario Bros, Mega Man and Pokémon, among others

Favorite Color: Orange

Favorite Season: Spring or Autumn. Love me some Nice Temperature and Pretty Scenery!

Favorite Book: The Mega/Gigamix manga, Dragonball, LOTR, P&P, Super Mario Adventures, Tank Engine Thomas Again

Do you have any Funko Pops?: No, they look absolutely ghastly

Do you play any instruments?: Nope

Do you have any pets?: Previously yes, currently no :<

Do you read or write Fanfiction?: Yes to both, more often Reading but I sometimes have very little patience and can't get into things which have good ideas ^^;; Personally, I've written mostly for TTTE, the episodic format and the distinct personalities make it easier to dip in with one shots, and the old fashioned setting and language is fun to play with~

What song(s) have you had on repeat repeatedly? : From my recent Beatles reviews, I listen to some'a them more than others, so far Devil in her Heart has been in the lead but You Never Give Me Your Money and the Medley have been getting a lotta airplay too lol

Tagging @gardenwalrus and @cameomv as Beatleheads I could know more well, but anyone who fancies this should feel free to have a go ^^

#Thanks again for the tag!#Who at Big Funko put that question in though?? lmao #I like things from the 60s and a few other years :)#Oh hi Corn thanks for the dope gif XD

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legally-brief · 6 months ago

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MOVIES WITH MEN IN UNDERWEAR

(This is outdated- website shutdown early 2000’s)

#’s thru A

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

10 to Midnight (1983) Violent thriller with Charles Bronson hunting a serial killer whose modus operandi (in the TV version) is to hunt his victims in just his briefs. (The killer works naked in the non-TV version).

101 Rent Boys (2000) Documentary. Includes, as you might expect, some underwear and nudity.

12:01 (1993) (TV) Sci-fi comedy. Caught in a time loop where he keeps reliving the same day, Jonathan Silverman wakes up each morning with the same hangover, in his shirt and boxer shorts.

1941 (1979) Comedy. Guy knocks out a sailor and steals his uniform to get into a dance. When the sailor comes to, he enters the dance hall, still in his bold red-and-white striped boxers, and a fight ensues.

1969 (1988) Long scene of Robert Downey Jr. stripping to his white jockeys and running around.

2 Days in the Valley (1996) Crime drama. Danny Aiello in boxers as he changes clothes.

29th Street (1991) Great army physical scene - at least a couple guys in white A-shirts and jockeys.

42nd Street (1933) Dick Powell is fixing his sock garters, while clad in only white boxers and A-shirt, as Ruby Keeler walks in on him. Ruby is shocked, but Dick carries on without embarrassment.

8½ Women (1999) Philip and Storey are forced to strip in a casino at gunpoint (we see full frontal and rear nudity of both men) (But do we see the underwear?).

83 Hours 'Til Dawn (1990) (TV) Crime drama based on true story. Sociopathic kidnapper Peter Strauss lying on his bed in light blue boxers.

Abductors, The (1972) Ginger attempts to get information from a bad guy: she cuffs him to a tree, and yanks down his pants and underwear with the threat of castration. When she gets the info she needs she drives off, leaving him struggling with his slick willie flopping around. He's obviously embarrassed to be left half naked like that, but she promises to let the cops know where he's located.

About Last Night... (1986) Rob Lowe in white briefs and nude.

Above the Dust Level (1999) Short film. In a Sydney apartment block, three tenants' lives collide in a story of hypochondria, belligerent neighbours and disappearing underpants.

Above the Law (1988) Action. Steven Segal drives a sexy corrupt cop to the Chicago lakefront, forces him at gunpoint to strip down to his boxers and socks, and squat on the rocks.

Accused, The (1988) Woody Brown pulls up his white jockey briefs after baring his ass in a rape scene.

Ace Ventura II Jim Carey in white boxer briefs.

Across the Tracks (1991) Brad Pitt in his bedroom in his underwear, and several scenes of him wearing really skimpy shorts.

Acting on Impulse (1993) C. Thomas Howell in his black silk boxer shorts - gets them pulled down by Linda Fiorentino.

Adventures of a Private Eye (1977) Typical pointless 70s British smutty farce. At the end of the movie, a guy is fleeing pursuers, covered only by a sheet, and escapes on a bus. When he gets off the bus, the sheet gets caught in the door and he's left on the street in only his shoes and socks. He steals a pair of drawers from a clothesline and continues in them for some minutes.

Adventures of Barry McKenzie, The (1972) Comedy. Man caught in bed with another man's woman is thrown out of the room in his underwear - socks, T-shirt and striped boxers. His trousers are thrown out, too, so he puts them on.

Adventures of Elmo in Grouchland, The (1999) Children's film. Mandy Patinkin embarrassed in his yellow undershirt and fancy polka-dot boxer shorts.

Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, The (1994) Few scenes of hunk wearing Calvin Klein boxers.

Adventures of Sebastian Cole, The (1998) "We see Sebastian (Adrian Grenier) lying on the roof of his old house in the rain and in just his underwear."

Against All Odds (1984) James Woods in black boxers.

Air Bud: Golden Receiver (1998) Family comedy. There is a scene where Kevin Zegers is waking up in the morning in his bedroom and slips on a football on the ground. He is wearing white boxerbriefs with stripes and looks HOT!!!

Alice’s Restaurant (1969) Arlo Guthrie in classic white jockeys. Nice Army physical scene of other guys in undies.

Alien (1979) Sci-fi horror. Unconscious, with an alien attached to his face, John Hurt in a one-piece (if you like that sort of thing).

Aliens (1986) Sci-fi horror action. Marines wakened from hyper-sleep in military green shorts and T-shirts.

All of Me (1984) Comedy. Steve Martin in his undershirt and striped boxers.

All the Kind Strangers (1974) (TV) Two teenage boys standing in the bedroom wearing only white briefs. There was also talk of them getting spankings throughout the movie and one scene where one asks for a switching. This movie stars Robbie Benson and Stacy Keach.

All the Right Moves (1983) Craig T. Nelson in white briefs.

All the Right Moves (1983) In one scene, three groupie girls strip the boy (Patrick Fugit, who was 16 while filming) to his white briefs. The next morning he awakens and walks around a bit in just the briefs before dressing. Very nice scene. The film takes place in 1973, but he wears modern FTLs with the logo all around the waistband.

All Tied Up (1994) Comedy. Two scenes: Zack Galligan in grey briefs and T-shirt when awakened by girl friend who comes to his apartment. Later, black briefs waking up and then working on computer. Picture may be an outtake:

Almost Famous (2000) In one scene, 3 groupie girls strip the boy (Patrick Fugit, who was 16 while filming) to his white briefs. The next morning he awakens and walks around a bit in just the briefs before dressing. Very nice scene. The film takes place in 1973, but he wears modern FTLs with the logo all around the waistband.

Always Leave Them Laughing (1949) Milton Berle - supposedly one of the most 'endowed' men in show business - exhibits himself in wide striped full-cut boxer shorts.

American Anthem (1986) Terribly cheesy movie about a guy’s internal conflict of whether or not to go back to gymnastics. Great shot of former Olympic gymnast Mitch Gaylord lying in what appears to be black bikini briefs or black nylon running shorts after he and the female lead have sex. Nice shot.

American Flyers (1985) David Grant changing clothes.

American Graffiti (1973) Hit comedy. Paul Le Mat pulls down Charles Martin Smith’s trousers, showing his white briefs and embarrassing him in front of the girl he wanted to impress.

American Hero John Ritter

American History X (1998) Drama. Ed Norton in white boxer shorts.

American Me (1992) Two male rape scenes, very graphic, lots of underwear scenes.

American Pie (1999) Teen comedy. Jim (Jason Biggs) in colourful print boxer shorts at the beginning, middle and end of this movie, including being caught by his parents when he's trying to watch a porn station, and stripping for a girl in his room.

American Psycho (2000) Thriller. "We see Bateman in his underwear and later see his bare butt as he showers".

American Summer, An (1991) A young Brian Austin Green plays strip poker with a girl...he ends up laying over her and kissing her. Great shot of package as he leans in for the kiss. Mid-end of movie.

Americanization of Emily, The (1964) James Garner is woken up during an invasion sequence in WW II and bewildered he walks outside in white T-shirt and boxer shorts, only to be told by a passing MP to "Put your pants on, Mac!"

Amityville Horror, The (1979) James Brolin walks down the stairs in bulging white classic briefs - clearly revealing he is one of the biggest stars in Hollywood.

Amityville 1992: It's About Time (1992) Tedious horror sequel. Girl seduces a teen and gets him to strip to his white briefs (but he is consumed by a pool of slime before he can get to her). Another guy in blue briefs and robe, and a third tied face down on a bed in his undershirt and striped boxers.

Anchors Aweigh (1945) Gene Kelly wakes up late in his white sailor boxer shorts and T-shirt because Frank Sinatra double-crossed him. Boy, does Gene get mad!!!

Angie (1994) Comedy-drama. James Gandolfini with girlfriend Geena Davis in purple silk boxers at the start of the movie.

Angus High school locker room scene. Nice rear view of teen in black Speedo.

Any Given Sunday (1999) Drama. Handsome footballer Jamie Foxx standing outdoors, shirtless, pants open and down a bit, revealing his black bikini briefs.

Animal House (1978) Kevin Bacon in WHITE briefs.

Animal Instincts II Two quick shots of Woody Brown in blue bikini briefs. Another scene with a guy in boxers shorts.

Anything Goes (1956) Donald O’Connor undresses before his partner, Bing Crosby. Donald wears socks and full-cut boxer shorts.

Anywhere But Here (1999) Corbin Allred plays a student who may or may not sleep with Ann (she has him strip to his underwear, but the scene ends with them kissing and then hugging).

Apocalypse Now (1979) Martin Sheen

April Fool’s Day (1986) Ken Olandt in white briefs getting into bed.

Apt Pupil (1998) Psychological thriller. Todd Bowden (Brad Renfro) in bed in his boxer shorts. Also, gym locker room sequence in which Brad Renfro strips for the showers. Guys behind him in undershorts; Renfro himself is in white briefs before taking them off.

Arachnophobia (1990) Comedy-thriller. Jeff Daniels, new doctor in a small town, is called out to check the high-school football team. They are lined up in their boxers for the cursory but intimate examination.

Argent Content (1999) (Easy Money) Short French film. Hostage stripped to his boxers in a bank raid.

Armageddon (1998) Sci-fi disaster action. Early scene has Bruce Willis chasing his daughter’s fiancé (is it Ben Affleck?) in his underwear, around an oil rig.

Artemisia (1997) Bigraphical dramatisation. Breaking with tradition in Renaissance Italy, a woman resolves to become a painter. Fortunately, she has a tall, dark and handsome friend to undress and pose for her; he strips to his drawers and she tells him to take them off, too.

As Good As It Gets (1997) Comedy-drama. Greg Kinnear in blue boxers. Skeet Ulrich as a burglar in tight jeans with a fashionable hole revealing his white briefs beneath.

Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery (1997) Bondian spy spoof. Powers (Mike Myers) successfully defeats attacking ‘fem-bots’ by stripping off and dancing around in his Union Jack briefs.

Author! Author! (1982) Al Pacino walks in light blue trim-cut boxer shorts as he readies his children for an opening night performance.

Avanti! (1972) Comedy. Jack Lemmon, chasing Juliet Mills, strips down to his underwear and black socks and swims after her.

Awakenings (1990) Robert De Niro in a diaper (c

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nachoaveragejoe234 · 10 months ago

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Same with my OCs. I have differentt OCs, some are "strong female characters", some are "damsels", and some are both. Here are a few examples:

"DAMSELS/GIRLY GIRLS"

Rita Connway from Popugirls: She's a stereotypical girly girl: a pretty, blonde, fancy southern belle, who wears poofy dresses, skirts, and tutus, loves fairytales, magic, unicorns, puppies, and is a hopeless romantic. She's the "nice girl" everyone loves, makes friends easily, and likes giving people makeovers. She often finds herself needing to be saved. Sometimes by her female friends, but a lot of the time, by her strong, handsome, brave Australian boyfriend Jett.

Selma Seldom, Beatrice Park, Tammy Panganiban, Margaret Ruoho, and Grace Mayfair from Popugirls: Also girly girls

Marja-Liisa Lahti, Tiina Busters, and Zaiga from Aurora Borealis and Company: Marja-Liisa is the keyboardist of the Finnish girl band Aurora Borealis. She is the most feminine of the group. She loves pink, she's the shortest and thus looks "petite" and "weak", she's an Anglophile, and as a female Anglophile, she loves more "girly" British things like Jane Austen books, Romeo and Juliet, Alice in Wonderland, and has a crush on George Harrison. Tiina is a girly girl who loves fashion pink and purple. Zaiga is the more timid, sweet Afro-Latvian friend of the more brash, sometimes arrogant, and tomboyish Icelander Dagmar Laxness.

Marcella Piccolaro from my HEAD: In my head, I make up scenarios where I make characters that I pair up with real people. I never post them online. Anyway, Marcy is characterized in my AUs as an Italian immigrant to England who always ends up in a relationship with Keith, lead singer of the Yardbirds. Often in these AUs, Marcy is a damsel in distress that Keith needs to rescue.

FEMME FATALES:

Marina "The Duchess" Tang from Carmen Sandiego: My Carmen Sandiego OC (for both the Netflix version and the Earth version, my AUs tend to blend the two together). She's a Singaporean woman who goes by the alias "The Duchess". She doesn't work for Carmen, nor VILE, nor Zack and Ivy, she only works for whatever or whoever benefits her, so she's morally grey. She often uses her looks on men to get what she wants.

Eugenia "Gia" Lombardi from Aurora Borealis and Company: Gia is a friend of AB. She's a fashionable woman from Rome, who also is known for being boy crazy, and flirting with almost every man she sees.

BOTH/NEUTRAL

Lorelai Birdgess from DuckTales: My OC for the 2017 reboot of DT (and ultimately a Disney general character): An Aboriginal female duck from Sydney, Australia, also known by her self-given nickname/alter ego Cavern Girl. She wears whatever she wants. She joins the McDuck team on their adventures, but I made her eventually be a Disney character in general. She's brave and strong, based on the "Crocodile Dundee" stereotype, so she's not glamorous or dainty and is willing to get her hands dirty. But she also has feminine aspects to her. She still wears dresses and skirts, she still at times needs to be saved, most notably from Glomgold, who often makes advances on her, the duck mafia, and even from a forced marriage when the gang get sent back to Ancient Greece. She also is in love with Scrooge, and is a dude magnet.

Patricia Hannington from Popugirls: Born in Manchester, England, Patricia wasn't like everyone else. She grew up and got into the punk rock scene. She and her childhood friend Vicky Rajan, later joined by Courtenay Topaz, formed a band called Chains of Fury. Patricia went by the stage name "Celeste Diamond" and started dating another punk guy named Amos. Patricia/Celeste thought her life was perfect, but she caught Amos cheating on her one day and they split. She continued her band, and started dating Tino, a Finnish man, who treated her way better. She later became a friend of the oher Popugirls, dropped the Celeste Diamond name, and recently the Welsh-born Yvonne Low joined COF. Patty is the most tomboyish, but she's also popular with the guys (she herself said she had a reputation among the punk men back in Manchester), and is willing to wear a dress and get more "fancy" at times.

All women are valid

Kill the mentality that a female character is “weak” if she is in love with a man. Love is not weakness.

Also kill the mentality that a female character is “weak” if she is kind and sweet. Kindness is not weakness either.

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astridhobbit · 2 months ago

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Someone on Bluesky was like, hey maybe don't rec romance novels and sexy books to people who are actively saying they don't like romance, and especially don't tag in romance authors in those discussions because it turns out that authors do NOT like having their works shat upon by people who don't enjoy them, huh, who could have foreseen.

So when IS a good time to rec romance novels and sexy books?

RIGHT NOW!

I love romance novels and sexy books and here are some of my faves:

IF YOU LIKE: young protagonists, princess/bodyguard, princess/bad boy, and excellent SF nonsense TRY: Polaris Rising by Jessie Mihalik. It's the first in her Consortium trilogy, and all the books are a delight. The first is princess/bad boy, the other two are more princess/bodyguard, and they are ALL great SF, great adventure, and great romance!

IF YOU LIKE: middle-age protagonists complaining about their back pain, comedy, a religious order whose whole goal is to make things better for as many people as possible, and just a whiff of horror TRY: Paladin's Grace by T Kingfisher. It's the first in her Paladin Romance series and they are all hilarious and sweet, with only a few severed heads. Hardly any. And only the one warrenmind. (Like a hive mind, but hares.) Bishop Beartongue is the very best.

IF YOU LIKE: leather, whisky, BDSM, overthrowing the patriarchy, and just, so many orgies TRY: Beyond Shame by Kit Rocha. It's the first in their Broken Circle series, and it is an EXTENDED series. They were one of my gateway drugs into romance and I do love the extended metaplot.

IF YOU LIKE: fancy British society, clever unionizing efforts, and women who know how to play to their strengths TRY: The Duchess War, by Courtney Milan. It's the first full novel in the Brothers Sinister series (there's a prequel novella called The Governess Affair) and it's fantastic. The second book in the series, The Heiress Effect, had one of the tightest plots I've ever read. Everything tied up with a bow at the end, in a way that I didn't see coming but made perfect sense as I read it. Beautiful.

IF YOU LIKE: The Mummy, Indiana Jones, pulp adventure, hidden magic, good guys who can do no wrong, bad guys who can do no good, strong women who are stronger than they think TRY: Warrior, by Zoe Archer. It's the first book in the Blades of the Rose series and every book is cover-to-cover pulpy adventure goodness. The bad guys are cartoonishly evil. The good guys are pure of heart. The second book, Scoundrel, starts with a fight/chase themed around an Olympic pentathalon. It's SO good.

IF YOU LIKE: New York City, non-lethal violence, comedy, shifters who are decent but sometimes real assholes TRY: Hot and Badgered, by Shelly Laurenston. It's the first in the Honey Badger Chronicles, but the series comes after the Pride Series. (I started with these books, it's fine.) One of my favorite depictions of shifters, in no small part because of the thought she put into how shifters behave. Like how obsessed the male lion shifters are with their hair, or how sleepy the panda shifter is. I laughed a LOT when reading these books, they're SO funny. Violent, too, but shifters heal quick.

IF YOU LIKE: blood magic, becoming a monster to overthrow the patriarchy, polyamory, disaster pansexuals, ancient Greek aesthetics TRY: In the Ravenous Dark, by A.M. Strickland. We start with our narrator waking up, hung over, clutching a mostly-empty wine skin, with her on-again off-again girlfriend, on the roof of a pagoda-like thing above a fountain, in the middle of town. She makes choices based on wine and lust and anger and I love her.

IF YOU LIKE: subby men and Domme women, found family, overthrowing the patriarchy, long journeys, BDSM, ~angst~ and ~longing~ and ~guilt~ TRY: His Secret illuminations, by Scarlett Gale. It's the first in a duology and you may have heard of it as the fantasy pegging book. I regret to inform you that there is no pegging and not even any kink in the first book. I rejoice to inform you that there is a LOT of kink in the second one, His Sacred Incantations. (And yes, pegging.) He was raised in a monastery and taught that too much joy or pleasure will make him lose his magic. She's an Amazonian warrior woman who needs some help tracking down a missing book. They have an adventure! And, just, so much angst.

IF YOU LIKE: shifters, fighting the would-be conquerors, second chances, subby men and bossy women, grumpy/sunshine TRY: The Leopard King, by Ann Aguirre. It's the first in her Ars Numina series. Book 2, The Demon Prince, is more bossy lady/subby man, along with some hurt/comfort. Book 4, the Shadow Warrior, is a lot more BDSM. Book 5, The War Priest, is angsty grumpy/sunshine and Grumpy does NOT want to like Sunshine as much as he does. They're all good fun.

IF YOU LIKE: thriller/horror with a "hang on what is HAPPENING here" vibe, second chances, fighting for freedom TRY: The AI Who Loved Me, by Alyssa Cole. This book does a great job painting a scene that is just a little bit off, then slowly and subtly going more and more *wrong*. Not too scary, even for a horror weenie like me.

QUICK NOTE: I realized as I was making this that there are not enough Black authors on here. If anyone has any recs for science fiction / fantasy romance novels by Black authors, lay 'em on me!

#romance #romance recs #jessie mihalik #t kingfisher #kit rocha #courtney milan #shelly laurenston #am strickland #scarlett gale #ann aguirre #alyssa cole #astridhobbit rambles

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priestessofspiders · 11 months ago

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Old Man Stickbones

I grew up in a small town called Pinewood Grove. It’s a tiny little community, its population couldn’t have exceeded more than a couple thousand souls at the most, and it’s surrounded on all sides by untold miles of dense forest. I remember it as a beautiful place, with trees as far as the eye could see, a veritable sea of greenery stretching out to the horizon. The air was cleaner there than it is in the city, and the sun seemed the shine brighter in the clear blue sky. But something has forever tainted that town for me, and I fear that until I die I shall be unable to look back upon my otherwise pleasant childhood without feeling a twinge of horror at the tragedy which ended my time living there.

I was always something of a tomboy as a child, feeling more comfortable playing outside with the boys than spending time with the other girls on the awkward playdates my somewhat anxious mother tried to set up for me. It’s really rather silly looking back on it now, how worried she was that I wasn’t going to get a “normal” childhood, but times were different back then. I had much more fun coming home with torn jeans and dirty hands anyway.

I was lucky enough to have many friends, but chief among them were a pair of boys by the names of Myles and Antonio. We first met by a creek in the woods where we had both been hoping to catch crayfish, and from that day forward we were practically inseparable. Despite the long stretch of years, I can still remember them both quite clearly, though I admit that perhaps this is only because of the terrible thing which occurred at the end of our friendship.

Myles was short and blond, with a freckle covered face that I sometimes (perhaps cruelly) joked looked as though it were covered in mosquito bites. In my defense, given how much time we spent near streams and creeks, it very often was. He fancied himself something of an explorer, and I swear that the khaki safari hat he wore may as well have been permanently glued to his head. He never went anywhere without a Swiss army knife and a compass that had been given to him by his grandfather. I must say I was somewhat jealous of the compass, it was quite the fancy piece of kit, perhaps some military surplus, with a shiny metal lid. He took great joy in closing it one handed with a satisfying snap. He often referred to our little woodland excursions as “expeditions”, and sometimes would put on a faux British accent and pretend to twirl a nonexistent mustache in imitation of the two fisted heroes from the pulp adventure novels he read.

Antonio was a bit taller than Myles, with slightly messy black hair and big round spectacles that led Myles to often refer to him as “the professor”. He seemed to take on the moniker with pride, and carried around a pocket guide to insects and arachnids which he used to identify the various creepy crawlies we found during our sylvan ramblings. He would note them down by their scientific names in a little journal, with surprisingly well-drawn sketches alongside them. I wonder if he ever became an entomologist when he grew up, or perhaps an illustrator. He always seemed a little bit shyer than Myles, but in retrospect I think it’s possible he may have just had a crush on me, something that I would have been utterly oblivious to at the time. I was young, and didn’t have time to think about romance, all that existed to me was the forest, my friends, and long summer days that felt as though they would last forever.

We’d often come up with little objectives for our excursions, and Myles would write them down in a small leather bound notebook he carried in his fanny pack. This would range from simple things like “follow the creek till the end” to elaborate fantasies such as “search for the forgotten temple of the forest gods”. We rarely ever actually achieved any of these goals, but it added to the immersion of being globetrotting adventurers, so we played into it. Out of all of the missions we found ourselves embarking upon, however, the one we most frequently repeated was searching as deep in the woods as we could for a very particular cabin.

You see, there was something of a legend in Pinewood Grove, one passed on for as long as anyone could remember, perhaps from the very founding of the town itself. I heard it from my uncle, Antonio from his grandmother, and Myles was told it by his father. The details changed from telling to telling, but the core of the story always stayed the same. They say that deep, deep in the woods, past any sign of civilization, there lives a very old man. Ancient, in fact, older than the forest itself, from when the world was young and nothing was quite finished yet. They say that when he was born, people didn’t yet know how to die, and in all his long years of existence, he still hasn’t managed to figure it out. He could age though, and the cruel years have warped his body almost beyond recognizability as anything that could have once been considered human. In his impossible decrepitude, every movement makes his joints creak and crack with a sound like branches snapping in half. He lives alone, making strange little shapes out of tied together sticks which he litters near his cabin as a warning to keep away. Antonio told me his grandmother actually showed him one of these objects, a strange little figure, like a doll made by someone who didn’t quite understand what humans were supposed to look like, held together with sinew and bits of hair. He said that just looking at it felt wrong.

Nobody knows the old man’s real name, if he ever had one to begin with, but his creaking joints and gaunt, aged figure have earned him a number of nicknames. The Snapstick Man. Old Stickbug. Grandfather Brittleback.

To me though, he will always be Old Man Stickbones. That’s what Myles, Antonio, and I always called him. We joked sometimes about finding the old man and bringing him back to civilization, putting him on display as the 8th wonder of the world and charging admission to see him at 5 dollars a peek. It wasn’t serious of course. I don’t think we actually believed in Old Man Stickbones, but it was a good enough excuse to pass the time in each other’s company, and frankly the story had an air of authentic woodsy horror about it which made the morbid parts of our imagination run wild with delight.

I remember once that the three of us were having a sleepover at Myles’ house, and I managed to sneak away while the others were watching some scary movie that we were all too young for. I hid just outside the light of the television set and began snapping in half some sticks that I’d smuggled in my jacket pockets. It took only a couple snaps before Antonio and Myles paused the movie and started looking around with absolute terror in their eyes. When I jumped out and yelled “Boo”, I swear to God I thought the two of them were going to wet themselves. Antonio actually started to cry, which made me feel a little bad.

There’s no point in beating around the bush any further. As pleasant as it is to remember those bygone days of my youth, all of my recollections invariably end with the same, terrible memory. Perhaps putting it down in words will provide me with some sort of closure. One can only hope.

It was nearing the end of the summer break, and the three of us knew that fairly soon our woodland romps would be once again limited to weekends and the occasional holiday. So, we decided to try and go deeper into the woods than we had ever gone before. “Right up to Old Man Stickbones’ front door!” as Myles put it, something which made Antonio seem slightly nervous. We left earlier than usual, choosing to head off in the late morning rather than the early afternoon, and made sure to bring enough snacks (or “rations” as Myles insisted upon calling them) to last us till the evening.

I don’t remember exactly which route we were taking, but it was somewhat meandering. Myles had the compass so he was the one who led the way. Antonio and I, as always, followed behind, though frankly with our longer legs it was sometimes a tad bit annoying to deal with Myles’ slower pace. Antonio frequently found himself accidentally kicking the back of Myles’ shoes before sheepishly apologizing. This had always been the case, and usually nothing worse came of it than an annoyed comment, but this time, Antonio’s accidental treading of Myles’ heel caused our fearless leader to trip on an exposed tree root, falling to the ground in a heap.

It feels awful in retrospect, but I did laugh. Myles had been in the middle of singing a marching tune, and the song was cut off with a sudden “Aurgh!” followed by a clattering of metal which was frankly comical.

What was less comical was the realization that the loud clattering sound was that of poor Myles’ compass, the one given to him by his grandfather, being dashed to pieces on a protruding rock as it fell.

Though largely unhurt, Myles’ bravado had been deflated once he realized what had happened, and he was beginning to sniffle a bit. I’ve always felt awkward comforting my friends as they cry. I never know quite what to say. Myles adored that compass, and I felt genuinely terrible for laughing when it broke. Antonio apologized profusely, and in a display of maturity that was frankly uncommon for someone of such a young age, Myles told him it was alright, and that he knew Antonio didn’t mean any harm.

“It’s my fault,” he said, “I know I should’ve been in the back of the group, I’m the slowest. I just like being the leader is all.”

We helped Myles up to his feet and gathered up the broken remnants of the compass. I tried to reassure him that we could maybe get it fixed when we got back to town, and that did seem to cheer Myles up a bit. We realized that it was starting to get a little late in the day for exploring anyway, and that we should probably turn around. It was then that Antonio remarked “Um, sorry, but… which way did we come from?”

It was with dawning horror that we realized we had no idea which direction was the way back to Pinewood Grove. We had been relying on Myles and his compass to get back home, and frankly none of us properly had any real sense of direction. For a moment we all stood in silence, trying desperately to think of some way to navigate. We knew that we had headed South initially, and so we needed to find out which way was North in order to reach town.

“We could use the setting sun to figure out which direction to go, maybe?” suggested Antonio.

“That’s a great idea,” I agreed, “it rises in the East and sets in the West, right?”

“No no, it’s the other way around,” insisted Myles, “that’s why they call Japan ‘the land of the setting sun.’”

“I thought it was the ‘land of the rising sun,'” said Antonio, sounding a little unsure of himself.

The discussion went round and round in circles for what must have been at least half an hour, Myles and I arguing over which way the sun rose and set. Antonio, meanwhile, kept switching sides anxiously, desperate just for someone to decide upon something we could use to get home. In the end, we were so worried about getting back before dark that we just decided to set off in a random direction that we all hoped was North and prayed that we could find some recognizable landmarks.

We had successfully managed at least one thing; we had gone deeper into the forest than ever before. As the light grew dimmer, I’m certain that each of us felt that the surrounding woods were becoming less and less recognizable, but none of us said anything. I think we were all secretly hoping that the others knew where they were going.

The trees were taller, the foliage thicker, and the air seemed almost imperceptibly fouler, like the stale smell you get from opening a long-closed cupboard, but tinged with the musty scent of soil and damp leaves. As the minutes turned to hours, eventually it grew so dark that we had to pull out the flashlights we had brought with us in our backpacks, just in case of emergencies. I didn’t know how long the batteries would last, so I insisted upon keeping mine in reserve, letting the boys use theirs for the time being.

It was Antonio who spotted the first one. He had stopped marching and was simply staring upwards at one of the trees, flashlight shining high up at an angle. His mouth was open slightly, and he was trembling.

“What is it?” I asked, looking up at where the beam pointed. I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary at first, even with the flashlight, as it was difficult to see well in the dark. Antonio pointed with one shaking hand, and I looked closer, squinting slightly. When I saw what he was staring at, I immediately understood why Antonio was afraid.

Dangling from a string of some sort, suspended in the air, was a strange bundle of sticks. It was arranged in some sort of star-like pattern, but with too many points, maybe seven or eight in total. It was small, and blended in well among the leaves, so it wasn’t particularly surprising that I hadn’t been able to see it at first. Frankly it was a miracle that Antonio had.

“Guys, c’mon!” shouted Myles from up ahead. He hadn’t stopped his march while Antonio and I were looking at the strange star.

“Should we, y’know, tell him?” asked Antonio, voice quavering.

“No, it’s probably just, I dunno, some guy doing a prank or something. Trying to scare people. If anything it probably means we’re closer to town,” I said. Antonio nodded, and we hurried to follow Myles, shouting for him to wait up.

As time went on, both Antonio and I began to notice more and more of the strange shapes crafted from sticks hanging from the trees. They came in a wide variety of shapes and sizes; vaguely humanoid outlines, triangles, crosses, stars, jagged spirals, and even stranger designs which we couldn’t quite find the words for, but made us uncomfortable to look at nonetheless. If Myles noticed them, he didn’t show any sign of it. He simply kept marching on, tired and upset to the extent to which he no longer was paying any attention to his surroundings.

Every so often Antonio would get an odd look and slow his pace for a second or two, looking about nervously. After he had done so four or five times, I asked him in a whisper what he was doing.

“Listening,” he said in reply, “I keep thinking I hear something, like, well…” his voice shrunk to a low mutter, “like sticks snapping.”

I was about to try and come up with some sort of rational explanation when we heard Myles call us from up ahead. We hurried towards him and quickly saw what had gotten his attention. Myles was pointing towards a distant light shining through the trees. It was admittedly quite faint, but decidedly a sign of civilization. We could also smell the faint scent of something burning.

“A campfire maybe?” I asked.

“It’s gotta be”, said Myles, picking up the pace as he headed towards the light. Antonio and I followed, but there was a hesitance to our movements. With every step I took, I began to get increasingly uncomfortable, and I could tell that Antonio felt the same.

After a few minutes we were greeted with the source of the light. It was a rough cabin, built from logs and crudely mortared stone, with a faint wisp of smoke emanating out from its chimney. Despite its relatively simple construction, it seemed quite large, at least the size of a typical suburban home. It seemed oddly crooked, all the angles subtly off, like something out of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Its windows were made from cloudy, cracked glass, very roughly set high in the walls of the building with some sort of rudimentary cement. From behind the translucent glass there came the warm glow of a fire.

“Let’s knock on the door and see if whoever lives here can point us back to Pinewood Grove,” said Myles excitedly.

“I uh, don’t think that’s a good idea Myles,” Antonio whispered, starting to take steps back away from the cabin.

“What are you talking about? This could be our best bet to get out of the forest! Do you want to get eaten by a bear or something? Besides maybe they’ve got a telephone. I’m sure our parents are all worried about us by now, they’ve probably called the police,” replied Myles, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“I think Antonio has a point, Myles, I mean, doesn’t this all seem a little… I don’t know, creepy?” I said, trying to choose my words carefully.

Myles stared at me bleary eyed like I just told him I was from the planet Mars.

“Myles, we didn’t tell you because, y’know, you already seemed kind of upset, but…” Antonio trailed off.

“We’ve been seeing these weird stick sculptures, in the trees. We thought maybe it was someone doing a prank, y’know? But, c’mon, look at this place. Don’t you think it kind of looks like-” I started to say, before Myles cut me off.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me you want to stay out here, in the dark, alone in the woods, because you’re scared of Old Man Stickbones? Come on.” Myles huffed, rolling his eyes.

Antonio and I looked down at the ground, embarrassed a little bit by Myles’ tone. We knew it sounded stupid, being afraid of a campfire story like that, but it didn’t make us any less afraid. Our silence started to make Myles angry.

“Are you serious? Are you both babies? There’s no such thing as Old Man Stickbones, he’s made up, he’s a fairy tale! Are you gonna tell me you believe in Santa Claus next? It’s just a stupid game. Did you think that when we went looking for secret treasure last week that there was actually hidden gold out here too?” Myles was starting to yell, getting angrier and angrier. I understood we were all tired, stressed, and afraid, but I’d never seen him act like this before, and frankly I was starting to get pissed off.

“We wouldn’t even be out here if you didn’t drop your stupid compass,” I muttered, mostly to myself, but just loud enough that Myles could hear.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have dropped it if this moron,” Myles said, pointing an accusing finger at Antonio, “could watch here he was going! Or maybe, y’know, if you’d just agreed with me about which direction the freaking sun sets.”

Antonio looked like he was about to cry, and my hands tightened into fists. It was then that I said something I will forever regret.

“Well Myles, if you’re so brave, why don’t you go knock on that creepy cabin door yourself.”

To this day, I still cannot forgive myself. I shouldn’t have said it. I don’t know what else I should have said, what I could have done to prevent what happened, but I can’t help but blame myself. I told him to go knock on the door, it’s my fault.

Myles grew slightly pale, and I could tell he was afraid. But he didn’t say anything. He just turned around and started marching towards the front of the cabin. I stood there, watching him go, while Antonio tried to whisper for him to come back, that I didn’t mean it.

Within a few moments, Myles stood before the wooden door of that strange cabin, trembling slightly. I hadn’t been able to tell from a distance earlier, but now with Myles standing next to it the door seemed huge in comparison to his short stature. It was easily 8 or 9 feet tall, and looked heavy. He looked over to us for reassurance, and Antonio kept shaking his head, trying to get him to come back. I just stared. I wish I had done something, but God help me, I just stared.

Myles turned back to the door and raised a shaking fist, before rapping his knuckles against the wood three times.

Knock.

Everything went quiet. All the faint sounds of chirping crickets, hooting owls, and rustling leaves seemed to die in an instant. For a few seconds, all was terribly, impossibly silent. Then I heard it.

It was a loud, harsh, crack. First just one, as though a single branch being snapped off a dead tree. Then another, and another, a cacophony of cracks as though of a thousand arthritic joints being popped. Myles seemed paralyzed with fear, and Antonio and I gasped as we saw strange shadows move with stuttering, stop-and-start motions behind the clouded glass of the cabin’s high windows. Then the door began to creak open, the hinges rusty and loud. From our vantage point, we couldn’t see inside, we could just see the light from within illuminate Myles when the door was fully ajar.

Myles’ jaw dropped open in horror as he inhaled, preparing to cry out in abject terror at whatever it was he saw inside the cabin. But he didn’t have time to scream before a gaunt, pallid limb reached out from inside, grabbing him by the waist with fingers as thick as broomsticks and pulling him into the cabin, the door slamming shut in an instant.

Antonio and I both ran, screaming and crying as we fled through the woods at top speed. He dropped his flashlight at some point and we both kept tripping through the dark, I was too afraid to stop to pull my own out of my backpack. We couldn’t be sure that the sounds of crunching underfoot came from fallen leaves or the creaking joints of a monstrous pursuer.

Eventually we both collapsed, unable to flee any more with our burning muscles and countless bruises from stumbling about in the dark. As we sat, catching our breath, I could hear the distant sound of cars. We were near the highway. Finally pulling out my flashlight, I led the still crying Antonio by the hand, following the sounds of the automobiles.

Antonio and I made it back alright, mostly unharmed aside from the bruising and shock. Myles had been right; our parents did call the police, and we had to give our statements as to what happened to some rather skeptical officers when we got back to my house before he was allowed to go home and I was able to go to bed. Of course they didn’t believe us, why on Earth would they? They figured we were too scared to properly remember what had really happened, and that maybe some animal or homeless person had frightened us. They sent out search parties the following day.

They didn’t find Myles, nor did they find the cabin that Antonio and I described. Myles’ parents blamed us of course, and accused us of taking their son out into the woods to murder him. Antonio’s family moved away not long after in the wake of Myles’ disappearance, and when school started up again I became a subject of ostracization and bullying, which frankly I felt that I deserved. I blamed myself, and still do, for what happened to poor Myles.

Nevertheless, I tried to persevere, and despite the alternating shunning and taunting from my classmates and teachers alike, I stuck around in Pinewood Grove for about a month after my final expedition into the woods. The straw that broke the camel’s back, however, was the object that was left on the front porch of Myles’ parents’ house. After that, my parents became so concerned for our safety at the hands of small town “vigilante justice” that they decided it would be best to move away.

You see, one morning Myles’ father was getting ready to go to work, when he almost tripped upon something left right at the front door. It was roughly pyramidal in structure, with three sides leading up to a point at the top, constructed from sticks and twigs, tied together with leather cords. There was a little gap, a window of sorts, cut into one of the sides. Dangling in the center, strung up with some knotted hair, was Myles’ broken compass.

Forensic analysis revealed that the leather and hair used in the construction of this object was human tissue.