#he's literally thinking 'ima start a band' standing like that

[sports-on-sundays]

Okay so 🤭 what if Y/N use to be with ( whatever Barca player you choose ) and they broke it off because they supposedly wanted to focus on their career and the reader was really heartbroken and omg to make it more better y/n is Carlos sister and then she sees or hear how they moved on already! And little by little she starts to be with lando and they announce their relationship when he wins in Miami!! Like full on hard launch. 😭🙌🏽

Also this got me motivated to think of more ideas ima write them down for the future 🤭

papaya girl / LN4

Summary: ex!Ferran x Sainz!baker!reader x Lando - After a devastating breakup with your footballing boyfriend, you think you'll never be able to date someone again.

Warnings: there's a golf scene and I don't golf so-!🤞, mention of sickness, foul language, sorry if some things are not accurate, headache, partying/dancing/drunkenness/clubbing, mention of getting so drunk you had no memory of what happened, implied getting drunk to dampen emotions, getting injured, vomiting, slight soulmate feel, a bit of suggestive talk, use of babe/baby/bae/baby girl/etc., I feel like every kiss I describe is exactly the same sooo- sorry about that! ✌

Requested?: YES! 😘

Author's Note: Do you ever write something so good that you wish you could make it into a movie? That's how I feel about this. I can imagine the scenes. Didn't plan it but I guess 24 is the magic number for this one. I made the request more dramatic because... I like doing that... 👉 👈 🥺 ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. PERFECT MIX OF ANGST AND FLUFF. I LITERALLY LOVE YOU! If you do have any more ideas and you're up for it, let me know!

When you met Ferran Torres, you were a Madridista with a passion for Ferrari. Being a Sainz, you've always been rooting for Real Madrid, but your favorite Formula 1 team isn't as consistent. Because before that, you were a McLaren fan. And before that, Red Bull. And everything else before that, too.

Wherever Carlos is, you're a fan of it.

You, quite literally, on the day you met Ferran, were wearing a Cristiano Ronaldo jersey and a backwards Ferrari cap.

And, well, he, a new arrival from Manchester City, liked that, apparently!

And it was beautiful. They way you slowly became closer and closer, growing to know each other more and more.

And then, maybe you just hit a point. Hit a point in your relationship where you wanted more, and Ferran realized that if any more was given by him, it would be too far for him.

And he cut it off. Said he was doing well in Barcelona. He had high hopes. You, a sold out Madrid fan, had been wearing his number on the back of a blaugrana jersey. And despite that blaugrana jersey, he ditched you.

He said his work, his career, his passions, his dreams, were more important than you.

But you can't complain, Y/n. That's fair. He was gentle in letting you know. He made it clear he didn't want any malice between you and him.

You roll over in bed, staring vacantly at your wall. There's a large Real Madrid flag hanging in the middle. A smaller Ferrari flag on one side. A few posters of bands and teams you like or events you've been to, signed by different celebrities. People who are more famous than 'Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister' or 'Ferran Torres's ex-girlfriend.' On one side, it seems silly to have a poster signed by Max Verstappen, but you do. On the other side of the flag, you have a peeling old McLaren poster, showing the younger versions of Carlos and his former racing partner, Lando Norris, looking just seconds away from breaking into a loud, hysterical laughter.

And next to that, you have a Barcelona poster.

You smile sadly to yourself.

I must look like such a conflicted sports fan.

You stand up, walking over to the wall. After gently peeling the Barcelona poster off the wall, you slowly trace the badge with your fingers, any hint of a smile now gone as tears begin to fill your eyes, threatening to fall.

"This is stupid," you murmur scornfully, your voice cracking softly. "This isn't even my team! It's not my city...!" You toss the poster across the room, leaving it in a place where you don't intend to pick it up anytime soon.

Let it gather dust and crumple. That's what Ferran did. He threw away our relationship like it was nothing but a worthless piece of paper. And now I'm suffering the consequences.

You sigh. You're trying not to let yourself be bitter. You want to look back on everything you and Ferran had and be happy. Appreciate it. You still love Ferran. You don't want to be angry with him.

Someone said to you once, Hurt heals with time, as long as you let it.

You grab a bold, red Sharpie from your drawer and your notebook from a dresser. You scribble those words in all caps, rip out the page, grab some tape, and hang the piece of paper where the FC Barcelona poster used to be.

You sigh, but nod, before turning to get ready for your day.

You hate winter. You never hated winter before this winter, but now you hate it.

With the breakup, you've been avoiding anything La Liga like the plague, even if it doesn't involve Ferran Torres. It just reminds you too much.

And with Carlos on winter break, getting ready for the start of the season, he's not around much. Going on different trips, he's quite busy. Which you don't like. You and your brother have a strong bond.

It's not like you don't have anything to do. You just don't have anything interesting to do. You have a shop that you run, but you have enough staff hired to not have to be there all the time.

Yes, in a family of racing, you were never too into it. Your strong spot is in baking and business running, so that's why you opened up a bakery in Madrid.

And being a Sainz, of course it was a success.

Same type of thing as Charles Leclerc's 'LEC,' except you're not the racing driver Charles Leclerc, you're not doing ice cream, and you've always been doing this, for five years now.

You watch as a young, excited couple walks in, jabbering away in English. You can just tell they're tourists as they get in line to order. Once they get to the counter, the woman immediately leans over the counter in excitement, saying, "Is Carlos Sainz here?" in English.

You chuckle. Sounds American. "Which Carlos Sainz?" you tease.

They look blankly at you as if you're just about the dumbest individual to walk planet Earth. You chuckle and say, "Why don't you get to ordering? There's a line."

Towards the afternoon, as things begin to quiet down just a little bit, you look up at the doorbell jingles and freeze.

When he reaches the counter, you snap at Ferran, "Why are you in Madrid?"

"Am I not allowed to be? Either way, hello to you, too."

You sigh, licking your lips as you study the Valencian boy. "What can I get for you?"

He shrugs and orders, before seating himself down at one of the seats at the counter. "How have you been, Y/n?" he asks.

"Fine," you swallow, staring down. "And you?"

"I'm good." From there, he begins just talking, as if we're old friends or something, and not exes.

He seems so happy. So content.

To not be with you.

Suddenly, mid-way through one of his many sentences, you slip your hand over his, almost on impulse. He stops, staring to your hands, and then to you.

You breathe softly, "Why? Why did you come here to just talk to me? Aren't you moved on? Ferran, this is torture for me."

Lines crease into his face. You can see him swallow, looking at your smaller hand on his. "I'm... I'm sorry. I am moved on. I'm doing well. I just thought maybe we could be friends. I'd never want to date you again; I'm not in the place to date anyone. I'm happy single. But I just feel bad. I know you're hurt, and... I'd be happy to still be friends with you, is all?" He slips his hand out from underneath yours and takes his cup of coffee with it, taking a sip as he watches you intently.

You drag a hand over your face. Though you didn't want to admit it, seeing him come in to the bakery gave you hope. That maybe he wanted to try again. But those words that came out of his mouth? They cut deep.

"Listen, Ferran," you barely whisper. "I'm still trying to work through what happened. Everything. It's hard for me. But I appreciate it, and when I'm ready, if I'm ever ready, I'd love to be your friend. O- Okay?"

He nods slowly, staring down. "Alright... Fair enough."

"What's wrong?" your older brother, Carlos, asks. You watch outside the window as the world travels by.

You sigh. "Ferran."

"Him, again?"

"Carlos," you sigh. "Stop. It's nothing new. I'm just missing him. He wants to stay friends, but I said I needed time."

"Ah. Well, you know, I did tell you never to date-"

"-a Barcelona player. I know," you roll your eyes with a little smile.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Hurt heals with time, as-"

"-long as you let it. I know," you comment, smiling a bit wider.

"Exactly. It'll come."

You sigh. "I hope so."

As Carlos pulls into the parking lot, you say, "So. Is that why you decided to take me golfing with your friends? Just wanted to check up on me, but you never have the time to sit down over dinner these days?"

Carlos smiles as he shuts off the car. "No. I could have made time. But I wanted your company golfing."

"You know I'm not big on g-"

"Shut up," he grins. "Yes you are."

"I suck."

"Not as bad as some people I know. In fact, you're actually pretty okay."

Soon, you meet up with a bunch of Carlos's friends. They're all chatting, and you're just kind of zoning off, looking out over the grassy hills, when suddenly you look up when Carlos says, "Ay! Lando!"

You blink in complete and utter shock. "Why is Lando Norris here?"

As Lando approaches, he eyes you, saying teasingly, "Well, thank you for the warm welcome, Y/n Sainz."

"Lando was just around, so he made the drive to meet us here," Carlos quickly fills in.

Soon, you're all off. After a round, as you're walking back to the cart to go get lunch, Carlos says, nudging Lando, "I think my baby sister is better than you."

Lando laughs. "You fucking muppet; what are you talking about?"

You grin, falling in step with Lando and Carlos. "I'm a better golfer."

"That is just wrong," Lando says, glancing at you. "Downright wrong."

"It's a Sainz thing," Carlos puts in. "There's no way for you to beat us, Lando. You can't. Winning runs in the family."

Lando rolls his eyes, reiterating, "Your baby sister is not better than me."

"You have no right to call me a baby," you put in indignantly. "I'm probably older than you."

Lando looks at you, his nose all scrunched up. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Hah! Same age."

"That still doesn't mean you get to call me a baby!"

"Her birthday is in January; different year than Lando's. Lando, you can call her a baby; you're older," Carlos says.

"Carlos!" you snap. "Don't give him permission!"

Carlos grins and shakes his head as he breaks off to chat with some of his other friends and get on the cart with them.

Lando grins, giving a discreet pat on your lower back as he murmurs, "Sorry, baby."

And for some reason, that makes you feel things. You decide to blame it on the fact that Lando's just good-looking.

Once you're all seated down with your lunch, you comment, "So what's with the whole..." your hand goes to your chin, referring to his facial hair, as you look at Lando expectantly.

Lando slams down his fork, saying lightheartedly, "Sick of people asking me that!"

You smirk. "Makes you look like you're forty."

"Whatever, baby."

"You know, I have a picture on my wall of you and Carlos when you were just babies, too."

As soon as Lando raises an eyebrow with a smirk, you know it was a mistake to word it that way. "You have a picture of me and Carlos on your wall?" he asks, mock condescendingly.

"No, no. I mean, I do, but- It's just an old McLaren poster." You immediately look down.

"What, are you a fan of mine?" Lando teases further.

"No! I'm a fan of Carlos, and you just so happened to be his teammate at that time. The point is that you two look like pipsqueaks in that photo! Lando, you looked so awkward, with all your acne-"

"What, Lando, you think she's a McLaren fan? She's sold out for Ferrari," Carlos interrupts.

"Literally! I deck myself out in red every Sunday!"

"Today's Sunday," Lando starts like the stupid idiot he is, "And I don't see you wearing red."

You groan, leaning back, covering your face in your hands. "Carlos, how are you this guy's friend? He's so annoying! Why'd you invite him for? How do you put up with him?"

Carlos just smirks, patting your shoulder, and says, "I'm used to having to put up with irritable people, after having to grow up with you."

You roll your eyes, fighting off a smile as all the guys around you at the table laugh out loud.

On the car ride back, you're mostly silent, your thoughts swimming with one thing and one thing only.

Lando Norris.

And there's a soft smile on your face as you think about your morning with him.

But Carlos can tell you're deep in thought. Usually, you'd be yapping away right now. "Anything on your mind?" he asks carefully.

You sigh. "Not much."

"You're bad at lying. You're staring out the window dreamily. What's on your mind?"

You sigh. "It's stupid. You'll make fun of me."

"I'm not stupid, though. I can already guess what it is."

You gulp. "How?"

"For the whole day, the only person you talked to was Lando."

You feel your stomach drop. "It's nothing serious, Carlos. He's just funny."

"You said something like that to me about Ferran Torres right before you officially started dating."

That makes you feel a bit sick. "Carlos, I won't let that happen again."

"Don't. And don't be getting interested in anyone until you're over your ex. And we both know you're not. And please don't be getting interested in someone like Lando."

"Why?" You eyebrows scrunch together. "I thought you two were buddies."

Carlos grins teasingly. "If you somehow got yourself with him, there would always be two annoying people in one place."

"You're intolerable!" you snap, laughing.

"You are too, hermana."

It strikes Carlos as strange when the first thing Lando says to him the weekend of Bahrain, before even a hello, is: "Is your sister here?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Lando shrugs. "She's nice."

"No... She'll be coming to Australia, though..." Carlos can't help but feel suspicion fill his chest. He's always been somewhat protective of you, being his little sister and all.

"Perfect," Lando grins, and he's off.

In Australia, like any other race, you're decked out in your red. Ferrari hat, Ferrari jacket, red jeans. Ferrari earrings. Even your black shoes have a stripe of red on the sides.

Carlos always tells you it's dumb. But it's become a part of your whole thing, since you spend a huge amount of your life following Carlos around and going to Grand Prixs.

It's fun sometimes, being Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister!

But when you see a shock of papaya in your red world called Ferrari's hospitality, you squint, slipping your sunglasses up on your hat, and say, "Who said you could walk in like that uninvited?"

"No one," Lando grins, "but I'm only here to see you."

Your eyebrows raise as you stand up. "Wha-"

"Come with me. I'm going to barf if I have to breathe Ferrari air any longer. Just your terrible get-up is making me nauseous. I guess I'll be free from seeing that stupid outfit next year when Carlos isn't in Ferrari-"

"Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, but follow him with a grin on your face.

"So you broke up with your Barcelona man?" Lando start, cutting straight to the chase.

"Uh-" you swallow. "He broke up with me."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You're not sure why Lando wants to know, and he certainly doesn't have any reason to know, but still you say, "We had been dating for a while, you know? I wanted something more. You know, to go deeper. Someday, I'd love to even maybe get married. But, Ferran... well, he didn't want to go the step deeper. Said he wanted to focus on his career. He broke it off. We're on fine terms, though."

"Ah..." he nods slowly. "That sounds like a tough breakup."

"Yeah... Yeah, it was."

He continues nodding, and catches your eye before saying, "So I'm assuming you want to... you know, you won't be up for any more relationships any time soon? Lot to work through?"

You suddenly feel your face begin to heat up. "Uh, well- depends on who it is, I suppose," you blurt without thinking.

"Hm?" He raises an eyebrow. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Well, considering the fact that your face is just about as red as that Ferrari hat on your head, I'm wondering what you think of me."

You swallow, feeling even more embarrassed. "Are you suggesting...?"

"If you're up for it, the night after the Grand Prix, you can meet me at my hotel room, and we'll go from there. Text me if you decide 'yes,' for the details."

"I don't have your numb-"

He gives a cute little smile and opens his hand to reveal a folded up piece of paper. "Now you do. See you later, Miss Sainz!"

You stand, dumbfounded, as he jogs off.

"Oh my God, Carlos! Well done! So well done! Oh my God!" you scream in the midst of your strings of excited swear words, in both Spanish and English. "Did you actually just win the Australian Grand Prix?!"

He grins as he kisses your cheek, patting your back and saying, "Yes, I actually just did."

You hug your older brother tight, resting your head on his shoulder. "Love you. You did amazing. After everything you've been through. You're going to be leaving Ferrari next season and with your surgery and everything and-"

He smiles a bit. "Want to let me go now? Can't squeeze me too tight, remember?"

"So you can drive a race car and win the race, but you're too fragile for me to hug you!" you laugh, but release him from the hug.

He laughs out loud. "Yes, pretty much."

Hours later, you stand in the lit, mostly empty hallway, knocking on the white-painted door. You've change out of your Ferrari red head-to-toe fit, and are now wearing a black t-shirt with the F1 logo in red on the left side, black sweatpants, and your hair held back by a headband.

Lando probably isn't here, you think as you wait. I look so stupid. He doesn't care as much as he acts like he does. He's probably out partying or something. He got a podium. Carlos won. There's no way he's just sitting around in his hotel room-

You look up in surprise as the door clicks and swings open to reveal Lando Norris standing before you.

You beam and say a bit too loud, "Lando!"

He laughs. "Hey..." He's dressed in a white button down, dark blue jeans, and his regular assortment of jewelry. "Want to come in for a bit?"

You nod. "Were you... just out?" you ask slowly.

He chuckles again, plopping down on the sofa. "If I were just out, I wouldn't be looking this neat."

"Oh... Oh?"

"Come on. Sit down next to me," he encourages with a wave of his hand. "Something funny- I've had my eyes on you for a while now."

You look up in somewhat shock. "That's why you're so confident about this?"

"That, and that I'm just the peak of all confidence," he jokes, clearly mocking cockiness.

You roll your eyes.

"But really. I've been flirting with you for a while."

This time your eyes widen. "No way."

"Just little. I knew you were dating that Torres-"

"How?"

He smiles. "Doesn't take much to find out. Anyway, I think you just blocked it out because you were dating someone else. Shows you're a loyal girl."

"Hm..." you nod slowly. "I... I suppose...?"

Suddenly, he takes your hand in his. "So, you like me?"

"I think I have for a while. Like you said- I blocked it out because I was dating someone else." You didn't even know that until now, hearing the words coming from your mouth.

He smirks. "Even better. So..."

"Yeah?" you ask, a little glimmer in your eyes.

"I'd like to know what the hell you're wearing."

Suddenly, your face falls. "Uh- I'm sorry- I- I thought we- Um-"

Lando laughs. "Y/n! I'm teasing!"

"O- Oh!" you laugh nervously.

"I was just thinking... Maybe you'd want to go out and celebrate with me?"

"Oh-" you nod. "Right."

"So, do you want to get changed? I'll text you where we'll meet in a half hour?"

You grin, standing up. "Sounds good."

"See you then."

"Holy fuck, man," are Lando's first words when he sees you. You're wearing sunglasses, a form-fitting sequin shirt, and flattering white jeans.

"What?" you ask anxiously. "Is it too much?"

"Too much? Y/n, you're gorgeous."

You sigh in relief. "Alright good... And- one thing."

"Hm?" Lando asks, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know if we... could we say we're... that you're my..."

"Partner? Boyfriend?"

You swallow. "Sure. I think... I think I'm good with that. At least for tonight."

He nods.

"But let's not make it clear here. I don't want the way for everyone to find out about this being, you know, by nightclub pictures on the internet."

He smirks a bit, nodding. "Fair enough, then. Let's go."

"Rise and shine! Let's hit the grind, Y/n!" an unfamiliar voice wakes you up.

You roll over to see Lando's handsome face looking down at you. You're in his hotel room, in the one bed. He's all dressed and ready to go, and towering over you, looking like a giddy dog.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. "I've got a killer headache. What happened last night." You feel disgusting, and wrinkle your nose as you get a whiff of the alcohol scent radiating off of you.

He grins. "I learned that you have no tolerance whatsoever."

You frown. "Unlike you, Norris, I'm not getting drunk all the time! Now, tell me what really happened!"

"Nothing much. Just a lot of fun," he sits down next to you, "and it's a shame that you can't remember any of it." He chuckles a bit, saying, "You got fucking wild. You were more fun though before you got absolutely drunk out of your wits."

"You didn't do anyth-"

"No, no!" he rolls his eyes. "Besides, Carlos was there. I wouldn't dare. You at least remember Carlos, right, being there?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, of course I do."

"But you really did completely black out? You don't remember anything?"

You swallow nervously. "No... I don't really remember anything... I mean, I guess..." You close your eyes, thinking hard. "Just dancing... music was super loud, but... that's not anything specific. I don't feel well at all now, though..." You start to feel a bit dizzy at the energy you're putting into trying to remember.

You open your eyes and look at Lando.

He smiles. "Well, it was fun, nothing more. Want me to bring you back to your hotel now?"

"Yeah, I guess..." you nod, cradling your head in your hands. "That'd be great..." You see the wine stain on your jeans. You can feel an ache in your ankle. You just need to clean yourself up.

Lando helps you limp to the car, assuring you that you just tripped. Saying your ankle is fine; it'll feel better in a few days' time.

You're not so sure.

As Lando drives, he knows he should tell you the details, like Carlos said.

But it still feels like you'd be better off not knowing at all.

Nine hours before

Though every single one of Lando's molecules in his body told him not to, he had to keep pushing you off. He sat talking away with some other dudes, and you sat his side, drunkenly trying to wrap your arms around him.

You blubbered softly about all kinds of stuff, a strange mixture of being utterly devastated and overly romantic.

Lando knew. You didn't get drunk this often.

A part of him felt bad. A huge part of him. He didn't think he had pressured you into anything. Certainly not intentionally. And you were the one who kept drinking more. But maybe he did...

Maybe it was his fault you were the mess you were now.

"Lando..." you murmured, your hand gripping his bicep. You leaned closer. "You're so sexy in that shirt." You reached over to unbutton another button of his shirt.

He gently pushed you away for the millionth time. "Remember, Y/n? You don't want anyone to know you're into me this much," he whispered lowly to you, running a hand through his hair. "Remember that, baby."

You pouted. "Ferran broke up with me and made me sad. Can't you make me happy now."

"Not now. I won't be doing anything when you're this drunk."

"I'm not that drunk..."

Lando snorted. "Whatever you say, lovely."

All was going as fine as it could be going. But then Carlos showed up. "Hey, Y/n-" he had started.

But you had interrupted him by slapping your hand on Lando's shoulder, leaning into it, and giggling giddily, "Look at this pretty boy."

Immediately, Carlos's eyes flashed with shock. And then vague panic. And then anger.

"Lando, how drunk did you get her?!" he snapped, raising his voice even more than he already was. The flashing lights on the Spanish man's face helped Lando's anxiety no more.

"I didn't get her drunk at all! I tried to stop h-"

"Yeah, fucking right. Come with me Lando-"

"No!" you had snapped, standing up to grab Lando's sleeve before your older brother could drag him away.

You were clearly biting back tears. "Lan didn't do anything..." You stumbled drunkenly into the British man, who steadied you gently, before helping you sit down again.

Carlos's face remained hard and steadied on Lando, but he spoke no words, as if he was battling in his head what to do.

Lando sighed. "Listen, Carlos. She won't remember any of this tomorrow morning. Let's just not bring this up again, yeah? It was a mistake. Stuff happens. She got wild and had one too many. We've all had those nights."

But Lando genuinely didn't think Carlos had had one of those nights before.

Lando certainly had, though.

"She deserves to know."

"Maybe she shouldn't, though. She's gone through a lot with her ex breaking up with her and everything. And I'm sure your career up in the air isn't helping her cause much, either. She loves you more than the world. And think about how worrying it was for her to see you go into surgery like that, and race right afterwards? The good emotions just hit her, man. But it's probably a lot. She's just going through a lot. She doesn't need the guilt of getting too drunk and acting a little stupid, yeah?" Lando ranted, intently studying the older Spaniard's eyes.

Carlos's eyes slowly softened. "Alright... I won't tell her what's happening once she's sober. Only if I can make a deal with you."

Lando bit his lip, running a hand through his messed up hair. "What is it?"

"I won't say a word to her, as long as you promise to stay away from my sister. I know you're interested in her."

Lando's eyebrows creased together. "What does that men? Why?"

"Quit trying to get with my sister, and then it's a done deal."

Lando let out a shaky breath, slowly nodding. "Alright, then. Whatever. It's a done deal."

Of course Lando didn't intend on following through with his end of the deal.

But when Lando turned around to check on you on the couch, he froze when he saw you were gone. "Where'd Y/n go?" he immediately asked the other guys and girls sitting around.

"The hot Spanish girl?" one guy asked in a painfully slow Australian accent.

"Yes, her!" Lando demanded, his buzzed brain filling with irrational panic and overwhelming confusion.

He lazily gestured and responded, "Went to go dance, I reckon."

And before Carlos or anyone else could react any faster, Lando tore into the crowd, shoving people aside and squeezing through gaps that weren't there, in search of you.

She's drunk out of her mind! What the hell was she thinking!

That's right. She wasn't thinking.

And then, he spotted you, just for a moment. Moving your hips, stumbling about, thinking you were just about the sexiest thing in the room.

"Move out of my fucking way," was Lando's polite way of shoving two guys out of the way.

He could see the sweat glistening on your face. He could see the dumb smile on your face, your high giggles. He could see fresh wine spilled on your white jeans. He could see hands on you; he took no energy to see who they connected to as rage filled his entire being.

And he watched, almost in slow motion, as your ankle rolled on your black stiletto, and you stumbled to the floor with a brain rattling, painful cry.

Immediately, Lando shoved his way to your side, slipping his hands under your body. "My God, Y/n!" he nearly screamed over the music. "You idiot! You beautiful, fucking stupid, idiot! Tell me why I fell in love with you! You're going to be the death of me!"

"Hi Lando," you murmured through tears. "My ankle..."

"Yeah, yeah, I see. Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

You swallowed, nodding as Lando tucked your hair behind your ear. He lifted you to your feet and let you lean on him as he helped you limp out of the club.

"I'm sorry, Lando..." you had muttered hoarsely.

"Hey, don't worry," Lando had responded. "Never apologize for having nothing but a good time."

But he, Lando Norris, disagreed with the words coming out of his mouth. That was his motto, his excuse, all the time. But as soon as soon as he saw you, someone he genuinely really loved, really cared about, living like that?

It made him sick to his stomach.

Speaking of that, as soon as you were outside, you stumbled away from Lando. He steadied you with one hand and held your hair back with the other as you doubled over and vomited, your previously red face impossibly pale.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah..." you gasped after about a minute.

"Alright. Okay. Let's get to my hotel room now."

Lando could barely understand your slurred words as you responded, "As long as we're getting away from here."

Now

You were going to go to the Japanese Grand Prix. But you just wanted to stay home. With a sprained ankle that confines you to crutches and an illness you've picked up, there was no way you were going to fly across the world for a Grand Prix, especially with the potential jet lag.

You lay on your couch and text Lando. You've been thinking, and you let him know that though you really do want to go places with him, you want to go slower.

You still don't know what happened on that night in Melbourne. For some reason, you can't get anything of significance out of Carlos or Lando. But you know more than what they're saying must have happened that night.

You asked Charles, because he was there. He provided a bit more information, but not much. He said he wasn't really hanging around you that night, but that he did see you cuddling with Lando.

When you asked Lando about it, he said you were drunk, it was just you not thinking, and it only happened once. That you stopped after he pushed you off.

And social media shows no one caught it on camera, or anything that night, for that matter.

So at least there's no fans going crazy over anything.

Lando texts you back, saying that he thinks it's best to go slow. Just let yourselves ease into whatever your relationship is going to be.

It's a relief to see he agrees with you on that.

But then he sends another text, asking you to try to keep it a secret. Even from your family, including Carlos.

You ask why, and he responds saying he simply agrees it's good to be private, and he doesn't want Carlos judging.

Though you're not sure about it, since Carlos is not only your favorite (only) brother, but also your best friend, you still tentatively agree to it.

Lando probably has a good reason.

Right?

By the time the Chinese Grand Prix comes around, though your foot is still in a walking boot, you're over your illness, and decide you're going to go for it and make the trip halfway across the world. After all, you've never been to China!

It's true that your walking boot doesn't look the best with your shades, shining silver jewelry, and overalls, but oh well. The most annoying part is literally everyone who even half knows your name (the Sainz part) keeps asking you what the hell happened to your ankle.

And you have literally no response but, "I fell," because you have no more of an idea than them, and there's no way you're about to say, 'Hah I just got drunk with Lando and got so fucking crazy that I twisted my ankle and sprained it! Anyway!'

Yeah, no way.

So "I fell," is the best option you have.

But the most concerning thing to you is that you haven't even seen Lando yet, all weekend. Though you haven't seen each other in a while, you've been calling, texting, and face timing often, your relationship growing a lot.

You chew your lip as you limp towards the McLaren garage. You peek in, scanning for Lando, but only see Oscar.

You limp to him.

"Whoa- What happened to your-"

"I fell," you say, thoroughly exasperated with this. "Anyway, is Lando around?"

"Lando? Uhhh..." he looks around.

Dude, hurry up. I'm not supposed to be here, your thoughts practically scream.

But then he walks in himself, and you grin, waving, "Lando!" you call.

He walks over to you, smiling. "Aw. Look at my little injured girlfr- uh, uhm, mate. My injured mate." He glances nervously at Oscar.

But the Australian just smiles, "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

Lando nods gratefully, before leading you to a more private place. "Hey," he says softly once you're alone, his hands resting on your waist. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright... Ankle's getting better, slowly but surely."

"Oh, good," he almost looks relieved. "That's so good to hear. I'm so glad you made the big trip to be here, Y/n."

You smile softly. "I was starting to miss you."

He grins. "I was missing you, too, baby... I think I could make some time for you this weekend, too. We could just get take out, hang out at my hotel room, you know. No more partying, even if I win, right?" he teases gently, gesturing to your foot.

You snort. "Yeah. Yeah, no more partying for now for me."

Later that night, you lay next to Lando in his hotel room. His arms are wrapped around you, his hand rubbing your back. "Look at me," he murmurs sleepily.

You look up to see his soft eyes looking at you, with so much, tenderness, so much...

love.

You feel a flutter in your stomach. "Lando, how did we get here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Two months ago, I would lie awake in bed, dreaming about and missing Ferran. I was so lonely. Now here I am. Two months, and I'm laying here, in your arms."

He grins a bit. "I bet it's because we're meant for each other."

"That's cliché."

"No, it's not. I really mean it. You know, I had a crush on you even back when Carlos was in McLaren, you were around a lot more, in papaya."

"No, you didn't-"

"Yes, I did!" he laughs softly. "I really did. The day I saw you in the paddock. The day Carlos pointed you out as his sister. The day you flipped your hair and looked at me with those warm brown eyes. And then looked away from me, because in my first season in McLaren, I was the farthest thing from attractive."

You giggle at this. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not! That was the day that I knew- I knew- that someday, I was going to make you mine," he murmurs, his eye half-lidded as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

"Lando!" you squeak, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "Don't you dare make me cry for no reason!" You wait a minute, before saying softly, "Well, maybe, just maybe, back then, though you were a pipsqueak, you were kind of cute... And I've always gotten butterflies from your jokes and teasing, even all those years ago, before I was even dating Ferran."

He laughs. "Awww... So you've always had a little bit of a crush on me, too!" You can see by his blushing cheeks and beaming eyes that just this fact is making him feel warm inside.

You roll your eyes, giggling. "I guess, maybe...."

He flicks your nose gently, playfully, holding you even closer. You lay there in more silence, before Lando says softer, even more tenderly, "Hey, Y/n... can I talk to you about something...?"

"Of course, Lando..." Your eyebrows knit together.

You watch as he swallows. Nods. Sighs. "Okay... Something has been bugging me..." He pauses. "I... I feel like I never should have brought you out that night in Australia... you know? Like, beyond the sprained ankle."

Your eyes flash. "What do you mean?"

"Well... You just got so drunk, and... I feel so bad... Like, somehow, it's my fault... I didn't mean for you to get hurt, or to drink that much... I just thought we'd have fun. Like I always do with my friends. And you're my girlfriend; supposed to be my closest friend..."

"Lando," you murmur shakily. "Did you try to get me that drunk? You didn't encourage it, did you?"

He looks nervous. "I genuinely don't think so, but I'm nervous I did... I tried to tell you enough was enough, but maybe I should have looked out for you more... Maybe I should have worked better at keeping you from getting that drunk... But we were having so much fun and I figured you would know your limit... I shouldn't have assumed."

"Lando! Don't blame yourself! It was my fault. I got too drunk, I fell and sprained my ankle. The sentiment of you wanting to look out for me is nice, but when push comes to shove, I'm in charge of myself, just like you're in charge of yourself, and it was my fault. My mistake. M'kay, Lando...?"

He nods slowly, still looking a bit unsure. "Well, Carlos isn't mad at you about it. He's mad at me..."

"Carlos is what?!"

"Ah, fuck. Forget I ever-"

"Lando Norris, explain."

"Whoa, that's sexy," he laughs.

"What?!" you exclaim in exasperation, yet you're still unable to keep your stomach fluttering by Lando's sudden spoken intrusive thought.

He grins, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know. Full name, in such a firm voice? Like, yes, mommy, order me around. I'll do whatever you want me to," he says in a low, goofy, teasing voice.

You can't stop your face from heating up. "Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, your voice cracking awkwardly as you flick him in the nose this time. And you flick his stupid nose harder than he flicked yours earlier.

He giggles evilly, rolling over. "Look at yourself! You liked that! You're a blushing mess!"

"No, I didn't. What a stupid way to flirt."

"Oh, well, I can show you even more stupid ways to flirt. Because, apparently, it doesn't quicken your heart rate at all."

You groan. "You are so annoying."

He leans over, giving you a peck on your lips. "I know. And you know you love me for it."

You forget to ask him again about Carlos.

"Baby, c'mere," Lando says, nodding for you to join him in his driver's room.

"Dude, watch what you call me when there's listening ears around."

Lando shrugs. "It's only Oscar in the other room."

"So? What makes you trust Oscar so much, anyway?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. He's a good guy. And he's not gossipy, like me."

You laugh. "You are, are you?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm a fucking gossip girl."

You laugh out loud at this as Lando shuts the door of his driver's room behind you.

Lando grins. "Anyways, Oscar is trustworthy because he's not the type of guy to have any desire not to keep a secret."

You frown, crossing your arms. "Alright. Whatever. Anyways, why'd you bring me in here?"

Lando shrugs, sitting down on the one chair in the room. "Sit down, babe."

You blink. "Where? On the fricking floor?"

"Uh, no," Lando rolls his eyes jokingly, as if this is the most obvious thing. "On my fricking lap, Y/n. Come on now. Duh."

You can't help but find yourself blush at that as you slip onto his lap. He wraps his hands around your waist, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You smile, leaning into him as you ask softly, "So why'd you bring me in here? Just for kicks?"

He grins. "I need my Y/n fix before the race. You know, it'll make me drive better."

"Oh? Is that how it works?" Suddenly, though, before Lando can respond, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You slip it out and sigh. "It's Carlos, asking me where I am. I feel like I'm under surveillance."

Lando blows a raspberry before saying, "Just ignore it, bae. You're a twenty-four year old woman; Carlos needs to get over it."

"Get over what?" you ask, an eyebrow raised.

"You not being his baby sister anymore. You're my baby now," he murmurs into your shoulder, pulling you closer to himself.

You laugh. "I still can't decide whether you're the worst flirt I've ever met or the smoothest. But right now, I'm thinking the worst."

"Oh, well!" he says, looking up at you with innocent eyes, batting his lashes. "Doesn't matter to me, because either way, you like it! Anyway, back to before Carlitos had to interrupt-"

You giggle as he begins kissing your face and say, "Carlitos? I'm not even allowed to call him that without him going psycho man on me-"

"Mmm... Can you talk less? It's cuter when you do that giggle thing," Lando murmurs between kisses.

This causes you to laugh out loud. "Sometimes, Lando, I think you're so weird." You realize, in a strange way, though, Lando is right. Because of the giddy feeling of literally having your boyfriend shower you with kisses and love, you're just kind of trying to find anything to talk about.

But maybe you should just take one moment to shut up.

You lean into the kisses, exhaling slowly. Contently, despite your pounding heart and sweating neck.

Finally, you feel as though your face is absolutely, completely covered in Lando's kisses. You sigh, contented, as Lando kisses the tip of your nose, and then pecks your lips.

You giggle, opening your eyes to gaze into his.

But his eyes flutter shut as he leans in, his hand slipping to the nape of your neck. And his lips meet yours again, this time in a real kiss. You shut your eyes, enjoying those lips on your own, sending tingles throughout your whole body, causing your breath to grow heavier and heavier. Desire pulses in every beat of your heart, causing the passion in the kiss to build and build. Your right hand falls into his chest as the other knits itself in his curly locks. You feel Lando's hand on your hip as his fingers snake under to grip your ass gently. You can feel his hot breath on you, in you, apart of you, as his other hand gently stroking your neck, giving you little twitches of longing for more. Your tongues find an art of lingering exploration, Lando's hunger seeming to never be satisfied as his tongue and lips tease your nerves, the emotional and physical connections between you seeming stronger than ever. His hand slides down your neck to your back, pulling you closer to him, so your chests are pressed into one another.

Suddenly, though, there's a pounding on the door of Lando's driver's room. Your eye cracks open. Lando's squeeze tighter shut, his eyebrows creasing together, as if he wishes so much that this never has to end.

Lando grunts, finally pulling away. Oscar's voice on the other side of the door saying Lando's name seems to be in another, insignificant world. You're both gasping as you study each other's eyes in a certain awe.

A soft, mischievous smirk appears on Lando's lips. Those lips that now you can't stop staring at. "Was your first kiss with Torres that hot?"

You let out a breathy laugh. "Definitely not."

There's a pause, of just softly smiling, gazing into each other's eyes, before Lando breathes, his eyes half-lidded, "My fucking God," He gently, slowly strokes your warm, pink cheek. "Did I ever tell you how head over heels I am for you?"

Before you can respond, Oscar's voice says again from outside, "Lando, if you don't respond, soon, I'm coming in."

Lando groans again, leaning his head back, "You can't! The door's locked!" He then adds under his breath, "Fucking Osc, interrupting as soon as I was going to take it to the next step."

At this, you blush even deeper. "You were-"

Lando waves his hand dismissively. "I would have checked with you first."

You nod, breathing deeply.

"Alright, baby," he sighs, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. "Let's go see what the hell Oscar wants."

When the door swings open, Oscar can't help but chuckle how how much, in that moment, you two look like some snarky super villian duo, about to give him some cheesy monologue. You both stand, arms crossed, practically back to back. Lando wears a scornful grin and you display a glare as hard as stone. Even your clothes- Lando's racing clothes and your head-to-toe Ferrari red, finish off the silly look.

"What's so funny?" you demand upon seeing the Australian's laughter.

"Nothing, nothing. But I hope you guys know: These walls are not soundproof."

"What are you suggesting?" Lando snaps. "You couldn't have possibly heard anything, you idiot!"

"Whoa, whoa! I didn't! I'm just saying!" Oscar says, going on the defensive, putting both hands up. "Me and my girlfriend don't lock ourselves in my driver's room before the race, losing track of time and forcing you to go get us!"

"You and your girlfriend are probably going to buy a house with a white picket fence and have 2.5 children and a golden lab! Oscar and Lily is bad enough, but I'm surprised it's not John and Emily!"

"Whoa," Lando says, laughing as you walk out of the driver's room together and he shuts the door. "Shots fired. Calm down, Y/n; jeez."

But Oscar's laughing, too, so you know there's no need to apologize.

"Lan... You know I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I won't go out, right?" you say nervously as you walk into his hotel room, rolling your suitcase from your own hotel room.

"Yeah, I know you weren't. I wasn't kidding, either."

"So... What?" you ask, sitting down on the edge of his bed, crossing your arms. "You're planning on going alone? Then why did you bring me to your hotel room-"

"Y/n," he suddenly says, leaning down to gently grab your chin and look you directly in your eyes. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm staying right here."

Your jaw actually drops. "I'm sorry, but who are you and what have you done with Lando Norris? Because that man would never miss an opportunity to party."

This makes Lando let go of you and break into a fit of laughter. "Y/n!" he breathes. "What the hell are you talking about? Before that, I would never miss an opportunity to spend time with you."

You stare. "Okay, actually. I'm being serious now. What did you do with Lando?"

You watch as your boyfriend chuckles, sitting down next to you. "Baby. I'm not going to go out clubbing while you sit in a hotel room alone. And there's no way I'm taking you out again; my guilty conscience can't take that, and neither can your sprained ankle. So why not celebrate P2 here, just you and I, hm?" he says in a low tone.

Immediately, at this suggestion, you blush. "Oh, uh, Lando... I, uh... I don't know if I'm ready for something... you know... for that... right now... Not yet... You know, it's too early for me in our relationsh-"

Lando suddenly breaks into laughter again. Oh, that sweet, silly sound. "Y/n! My God, what a dirty mind you have! I wasn't thinking that at all-!"

"You, Lando Norris, are saying I have a dirty mind?! I bet you really are his doppelganger!"

He crosses his arms. "Only reason why I wouldn't suggest that is because I know you're not ready. Which is more than one hundred percent fine with me. I wasn't even thinking about that, anyway."

"What were you thinking, then?"

He smiles with his eyes. "Well, let's both get ready for bed," he begins pulling his shirt off over his head as you absolutely bear your eyes into him, "And once we're both ready, I'll meet you back... here...?" His confused face slowly turns to one of teasing nature when he sees your eyes trained intently on his bare chest. His perfectly toned abs. His perfectly shaped pecs. His strong, straight, tan back. The little brown beauty marks sprinkled all over his torso. You would love to kiss every single one of them. "Why don't you take a picture?" he smirks stupidly. "That way, it'll last longer."

"Oh, shut up," you murmur, licking your lips as you tear your eyes away from his bare middle. "You can shower first," you murmur.

Once you're both all clean and ready, you snuggle up under the blankets, only to find your arm brushing against Lando's bare skin.

You feel your heart flutter as you murmur, "Are you not wearing a shirt just to bother me?"

"What, no," Lando says, overly innocently. "I never wear a shirt to bed. Just like I'm sure you never wear a bra...?"

If you were embarrassed before, now it's ten times worse. You specifically decided to wear a bra, to avoid... that. And now here Lando is, bringing it up like it's the weather.

"Uh..." you begin.

"Anyway!" Lando says, apparently seeing the vaguely panicked look in your eyes. "Wanna just watch a show or something?"

"Yeah," you nod. "That sounds good."

Lando turns some stupid show on his laptop, and as you snuggle and it gets later, you become more relaxed. You lean your head on Lando's shoulder as he plays with strands of your smooth, wet, dark hair. Your hands begin softly feeling his chest, just drawing circles and feeling the shapes of his abs.

Everyday, you seem to get to know Lando more and more- inside and out.

He sighs, contented, and murmurs sleepily, "That feels nice."

You smile, nuzzling into him.

"I saw Barcelona and Madrid played today," he comments as your fingers continue stroking the abs under Lando's soft skin.

"Yeah... El Clásico..."

"You don't sound as excited as I thought you would. I thought you were big on Madrid."

"Yeah, I am... Just having been keeping up with La Liga lately, I guess."

"Hm... Well, would you like it if I could find some way to watch the game...?"

You smile softly. "Hm. Yeah, maybe that wouldn't be so bad..."

Lando nods, and soon, you're cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching your favorite team play against FC Barcelona/your ex's team.

It feels weird, but you like it.

You decide your bra isn't very comfy and slip it off under your shirt before tossing it across the room.

"You're finally over being embarrassed with me?" Lando teases.

You smile softly, shutting your eyes. "At least for now. Too sleepy to care."

He smiles back. "You're cute when you're sleepy. Cuter."

Soon, though, Lando is gently shaking you, murmuring, "Look. Your ex was subbed on."

"Hmmm? What about Fer?" you murmur with a yawn. You must have dozed off for a bit.

"Fer?" Lando asks, his nose scrunching up. "Yeah, Ferran Torres."

Your eyes flutter open to see your ex-boyfriend running onto the pitch. You feel a sudden, unexpected pang in your chest. When you and Ferran were still together, you watched him do that so many time, with a sense of pride and excitement.

But now, you don't feel much at all. It's no different from anyone else going out there to play.

But, like a train, memories of the past begin to hit you.

Going for walks with him. Cheering him on at finals. Hanging out with his teammates. Working out with him. Bringing him to the Barcelona Grand Prix. Exchanging gifts on birthdays and holidays.

Just all the little things you used to do.

Like snuggling with each other on late nights after Barcelona won.

Not unlike what you and Lando are doing right now.

Suddenly Lando's arm around you tightens, and he says, "You okay?"

"I- yeah..."

Lando leans forward to see you face. You try to turn it away. Lando doesn't let you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

"You're crying," he states softly.

"I guess..." you trail off, averting your eyes.

There's a few beats of silence before Lando states again, "You still miss him."

"I guess..." you repeat. "But... I'm happy to be with you... it just all happened so quick... It's a lot for me... I'm mostly over it- over him- by now, but sometimes things just... make me start to think. Reminsce of what's not anymore."

Lando slowly nods, and begins rubbing your shoulder. "I- Alright..."

"But don't worry. I'm way more happy to be with you right now than sad to not be with Ferran any longer."

"You're sure?" the Brit asks tentatively.

You nod, leaning into him once more. "I'm sure. One hundred and one percent."

"Hey, Lando," you grin giddily before the Miami Grand Prix. "Just drive your best out there, okay? Good luck, baby." You give him a high-five. You can sense he wants to give you a hug, but painfully knows he can't because of the ever-watching cameras and eyes all around you.

But he leans in close, until you can practically feel his breath on your face, and says softly, in just about the most heart-wrenching-in-a-good-way low voice, "Oh, baby... I'm going to go out there and win that race. For you."

"Oh, stop being such a romantic. You're going to make me cry."

He leans in, about to kiss your cheek, but you gently push him off, saying, "You better get going, Lan! Race is going to start soon!"

"Right! Bye bye, bab-"

"BYE!" you scream to overpower his stupid 'baby girl.'

And before you can even blink twice, it seems-

It's lights out....

And away we go!

"LANDO! FUCKIN'! NORRIS!" you scream as soon as you see him, running to him as fast as you can. Your eyes threaten to fill over their brims with tears as you leap into Lando's arms, immediately forgetting about hiding your relationship.

Right now, that just seems too silly to care about. It doesn't matter enough.

Your boyfriend is a race winner.

The racer winner!

He leans back with the most joyful, most romantic, most adrenaline filled, most glorious look in his eyes as they search yours. His hand slowly strokes your cheeks as he purrs, "I told you I would win it for you, didn't I?"

"Lando-" you begin in excitement, but are interrupted by Lando's lips on yours, aggressively, passionately leaning into yours, flooding all his emotions into you, sharing his dream coming true with you.

For some reason, you begin to cry. Flows of tears, flooding down your cheeks as you kiss each other, and your heart pounds at a million kilometres an hour. His hands grip your waist tight, and the moment-

It all seems so perfect.

Right now, you don't care about the fact it was supposed to be secret. You don't care about what Carlos will think or say or do, or what fans on social media will post. None of it matters.

In this moment, the only two people that matter are you and Lando, in a symphony of amorousness, standing on the top of the world.

In this moment, you and Lando, both in sync, know this is the right time. Though it's been merely three months of being in a real, serious relationship, it feels like several lifetimes.

You don't care about the shock of other people, or the cameras flashing and clicking and filming.

All the sudden, you're proud of it.

You want everyone to know, no matter how they'll react, that you're Lando's, and Lando is yours.

When you finally break away from each other, Lando's smile remains as he gazes into your eyes.

"Are you crying too?" you giggle softly as you spot a glint in his eyes.

"What? Me, crying? No, I'm not crying! Of course I'm not crying!" he says teasingly, hastily wiping at his eye with his thumb. "You're the one crying! But anyway-" He slips the papaya McLaren cap off his head and plops it on yours, saying, "Won't be needing this for the top step. Besides," he smirks, leaning in closer. "Enough with all this Ferrari stuff. I think it's finally time for you to admit: Papaya looks best on you. Papaya's your color."

As you watch him jog off after that, stunned, you feel pleased.

Finally, for once, content.

That's right. My color isn't white, or blaugrana. It's not Ferrari's red, either.

I'm a papaya girl.

His papaya girl.

[charlesleclerrc]

I have so much opinions on the show. SPOILERS

1. I personally do not like Daisy. I didn’t like her in the book or the show, in the beginning I sympathized with her and did but as it continued I started to dislike her even more and more. See even though Billy is the one married to Camila, it’s something about Daisy betraying Camila that is worse to me. Billy ain’t ish, of course and I don’t like him either, but he’s already apart of their family u know? DAISY just got there, and CAMILA is the one who had daisy’s back. She sincerely welcomes Daisy and encourages her to come back to the party because she wants her there. She pushes Billy to let Daisy to join the band. Daisy herself says “he’s lucky to have you” and after all that…she still throws herself at Billy. And THEN gets mad that Billy brought Camila to the cover shoot as if that’s not his wife? AND THEN has the gall to walk up to Camila & Julia, smiling in their face, as if she wasn’t kissing and making eyes w her husband the day before. I mean, thats got to be one of the most appalling things I’ve watched in a while. Like daisy has no girl code whatsoever, and I can’t seem to understand how u can like her after doing that to Camila? Like Camila is literally mother, she looks after everyone and has everyone best interest at heart yet is getting betrayed over and over and over again.

2. I hate the fact that no one says anything to Camila about what Billy does behind her back. As if she doesn’t look out for everyone. As if they didn’t know her since Pittsburg. As if she wasn’t Karen & Graham #1 rooter. As if she wasn’t helping the band of the ground. Like wtf ? So much for being a family that looks out for each other.

3. Billy & Daisy have no romance whatsoever. They didn’t have it in the book and they don’t have it in the show. All they have is chemistry and passion, and I’ll forever stand on that. Also, when Daisy betrays Billy’s trust and tells the reporter about his past, something in told her in confidence, that was disgusting. Like that’s not love, you don’t do that to someone you love and she had no right. What’s crazy is that Camila is the one who suffered at the hands of Billy’s past, AND she never said that. So Daisy really had no right. And all because of what? Cause the reporter told her that Billy said it was an act? That she didn’t want to believe whatever was goin on between her and Billy was all in her head? Get over yourself, you have no claims to him as he has a whole family that she could’ve hurt.

4. I support Camila cheating w Eddie. Billy cheated on Camila multiple times and then again w Daisy. He neglects their marriage and lies to her and write stuff like the song “please”. Camila has to READ that herself that’s so heartbreaking. In the middle of the night, he’s up talking to Daisy. Billy literally isn’t appreciating what he has and acting as if he’s the only one who has needs. Like u don’t think Cami has needs too? Eddie in that moment and probably more, made Camila feel confident and loved again. Billy has been treating her like some old used cardigan and Eddie came and put her on like she was new again and I honestly loved that because she doesn’t deserve feeling like that.

5. I like both Graham and Karen and understand both characters. However, in the books and show Camila & Daisy both have that convo of Graham being more into her than Karen is in him. Karen know that and continues her relationship with her. I feel like Karen should’ve been more clear or cut that relationship off right then and there. Graham should’ve understood and considered Karen’s feelings about the pregnancy and not shame her and act as if he’s not the only one in pain.

I have way more to say but ima leave it at that.

You're so right in everything you said my dear anon. As I said in the other ask I got, you can always dm and I'll happily discuss everything about this show. I didn't mind daisy much in the book, sometimes i liked her, other times i didn't. in the show she's just boring. some of her actions annoyed me, but they also did in the book so that was on character.

idk what the writers were thinking when they made camila bring daisy to her house and make her feel part of the family. the whole 'she brought into her home the woman that was gonna steal everything from her' thing? HORRIBLE!! the moments in the book when camila welcomed daisy and was kind to her were beautiful, here, they only make daisy look like backstabber. and her whining about billy and camila was ridiculous in book and it's pathetic in the show.

no one in this show deserves camila's love. they're all bad friends. i hated the whole 'yeah maybe they were cheating, but they made good songs so it was ok'. FUCK THAT!! i understood when they didn't told her the first time. but this time someone should've at least called billy out, because it's not like they barely know camila and she's just billy significant other, they're her family. they are at her house ALL THE TIME!

my interpretation of book!d*aisybilly was that yeah, he liked her, but he was more enchanted with her and everything that she represented, because when billy reached his peak as an famous singer he was already sober so he could never live things like the others did. and also they understood each other in very deep ways because they were a lot alike. in the show it feels more like lust and necessity of adventure, idk, their scenes in the don't do anything for me.

but yeah, daisy exposing not only him, but camila and their daugther like that, in both book and the show, was a shitty move.

i have the same feelings about karen and graham, they always wanted different things, but closed their eyes to that, until things exploded on their faces.

edit because i forgot eddiecamila hdjhdjsh I LOVE THEM!! they're the best thing about this adaptation even if they only have 4 scenes together. it broke my heart how camila was holding back tears when eddie said he would always choose her. that woman was feeling unloved for so long :( the only thing i'm mad about is that we didn't got a kiss. #releasetheeddiecamilacut

[moxfirefly]

I!! Have an request!! If you want, thats up to you! But how about the turtles have a friend (the reader) and no matter what they see hints of or how it seems she just doesnt seem to be in a relationship ever and then leo starts acting "odd" (in love) and one day michelangelo of all people catches leo and the reader in a romantic (or heated) moment! What do you think would happen? How would they handle their older brother in love? 😂 i just thought itd be a funny one-shot

Ok I’ve been wanting to tackle this for a while now and ima do my best for you friend, also I hope this reaches cause I know it’s been tough so I send you lots of love💕

Blue boi all in lovey dovey

Rated Mature (Romance but will a little sprinkle of smut) 18+ Only

Raphael squinted his eyes.

For the past twenty-two minutes he’d been wondering what was wrong with this picture. His breakfast was getting cold and he’d even neglected to smack Mikey’s hand away when he stole a piece of bacon off his place.

Raphael took pride in his observation skills, often he noticed plenty of things in his environment but while Donatello ran commentary on it he usually kept the information to himself. He shared a room with his youngest brother so he knew any odd shift when it came to Mikey. He is very close with Donnie, spending a few sleepless nights by his side while the genius tinkered away at projects, even lending a hand here and there.

Leonardo for all of his hard headed ways and their personality clashes, he felt he knew him well enough too. The leader though, was much more guarded in his emotions which made for some difficult moments to completely gage his older brother.

You on the other hand were an open book, plenty of times he’d spent time with you, getting to know plenty of your ticks and thoughts. Raph considered you a close friend, a confidant he could turn to.

But as you all sat together for a late breakfast. Mikey inhaling his while Donnie’s overworked eyes looked into his coffee cup as if lifes answers laid there, Leo and you were just sitting there, suspiciously.

You were still in your sleep wear, Leo’s groggy movements mechanical as he ate on autopilot. You yawned reaching for a coffee refill and without command or hesitation Leo had pushed the creamer and sugar towards you, going so far to place the exact amount of both in your mug. You had given him a sweet smile, reaching a hand to thumb a crumb away from the corner of his mouth.

Raphael raised a brow ridge, well naturally that could translate to common kindness. You all knew each other, often April had in some form or shape probably done something similar. He poked a few pieces of eggs into his mouth, now he was intrigued.

He picked up a few more instances where his curiosities got the better of him.

For instance one afternoon while you were over he had decided to gather info. Raphael had kitchen duty and you had stuck around to help him out. “What’s up with you?” A common not so invasive question, you shrugged. “Same old, same old” You gathered plates to set the table. Raphael kept his gaze at the task at hand, cutting tomatoes for the sauce he was preparing. “Yeah but have you done anything? Gone out with friends? Maybe found your future husband?” He chuckled even more so when you nudged him with an elbow. “A forget you have a sense humor under all that angst” Raph smiled, the two of you often bickered Iike this.

Truth be told you had never mentioned a boyfriend or a girlfriend, the subject was never really breached. With the amount of time you spent in the sewers with them it never came up if you had some partner or if you even were dating. Raphael added the tomatoes into a pot, you joined his side ready to help with more cutting of condiments.

Then Leo arrived and he felt the air shift, he peaked a glance at you, a small smile playing on your lips. Leo in turn greeting the two of you before he made his way towards the fridge to retrieve something to drink. “Want something?” He asked from the fridge and honest to God Raph was very sure he wasn’t asking him. You nodded extending a hand for the soda he gave you, he leaned against the fridge and chatted you up as nonchalant as ever.

Nothing in the small chat raised any flags, Raph’s sauce almost burning from how intently he was concentrating of quite literally eavesdropping on you two. You laughed at something he mentioned, that was bizarre because Leo was seriously not even funny but he could be biased on that end.

“Your hair looks pretty that way” Leo spoke, a tad bit shyly. Raph stirred the sauce, brow ridges shooting up, ‘real smooth big bro’ he couldn’t help but think. Then again he had probably at some point told April the same thing, well they all had commented on April being pretty in all manners of ways.

But this felt just the taddest bit different?

He excused himself having to get back to whatever he was doing. Raph squatted to get something from the bottom cupboards, he didn’t miss the blush on your cheeks.

“Yer hair does look nice like that” He tested, you beamed brightly at him. “Thank you, you’re very sweet when you put your heart into it” She teased smacking a hand towel at him.

Inconclusive results.

For now.

This stupid notion continued to bother Raphael, curiosity would kill the turtle in this case. He wanted to know if truly something was amiss there and you both being friends he wondered why you just hadn’t flat out told him what was up. Nevertheless he couldn’t drop the bomb on you, you could be motorfide or maybe deny it to high hell. Asking Leonardo was out of the question, he sure as hell wouldn’t say a thing.

So Raphael kept his gaze glued as you parted ways for the night. You gave a hug and kiss to everybody, quite normal for your loving nature. He got his hug and kiss, so did Donnie, April and Mikey. Once you landed on Leo you did the same.

He could’ve sworn you lingered a little more, going so far as to whisper something to him because Leo gave a little huff of a laughter and smiled. He definitely slid his hand away from your lower back quite slowly.

Maybe, just maybe...

One patrol night he got stuck with Leo while Mikey and Donnie were doing rounds on the truck. They were scouting out a bank that was rumored to be hit soon by a group of robbers. Raph didn’t mention you, in fact he patiently waited for these robbers to possibly show up.

Something vibrated and his gaze landed on Leo who was reaching a hand into his pocket to pull out his phone. His concentrated and serious featured softening with whatever he read on the screen. He typed back something quick, shaking his head from whatever image or words or whatever had been provoked out of him. “Everything good?” Raphael asked, Leo nodded as if back to ‘normal’ and that absolutely was suspicious in his book.

That night didn’t yield any resolution and honestly it’s around this time that Raph regrets this little task that had occupied his time. He had originally decided to leave it as inconclusive, at some point You two dummies had to say or do something. He had been rummaging his room for his hand wraps, more than ready to get his nightly workout in order. When he had come up empty handed he exited towards Leo’s room, he always had them which annoyed the red banded brute.

His first mistake was not knocking or making his incoming presence known. A rookie mistake considering he lived with three young adult brothers.

His second mistake was just barging in like he owned the place. An annoyed “Jesus Leo quick taking my shit” spewing out of him.

If mistakes One and Two had been adverted he wouldn’t be standing here, wide eyed and frozen.

Because he really didn’t need to see his brother stark ass naked on top of his best friend who he basically considered a little sister, equally naked to boot. There was a solid fifteen seconds where Raphael didn’t know if he running out was the best option, mumbling a ‘shit my bad’ was better or if covering his eyes and screaming at his brother that he better be a gentlemen to you cause you’re a great gal.

Leonardo’s hands cupped your exposed breast for modesty sake, the need for the ground to dramatically open up and swallow him whole heavy in his mind. You had squeaked when Raph barged in, hands super glued to Leo’s rear and god why couldn’t you scream and let go and scream some more.

Raphael finally turned around, an embarrassed heat breaking over his body as he groaned in disgust. “Shit fuck, sorry sorry! I didn’t see shit!” Oh but he did and oh did he crave bleach. “Raph get out! This is why you knock!” Leo chucked a pillow at his brothers shell. You had finally let go of Leo’s rear, covering your face in mortification. “Hang a sock or something outside then!! I can’t read minds!” Raph bellowed.

Mistake number 3 happened because Raphael was a drama Queen through and through and the shouting only helped to alert his brothers towards the room.

“Can you two not fight for five whole minu-OH GOD SORRY!” Donatalleo had exited as quickly as he had approached the room. Mikey thankfully barely saw anything since Raph and Donnie yanked him out which Leo was thankful, he knew Mikey would never let this situation go.

A very quiet hour passed by.

Nobody wanting to say anything. Mikey had left for the tunnels to skateboard for a while. Donnie had thrown himself into truck repairs not even wanting to discuss what his eyes had briefly seen.

And Raphael had sat on the couch, every few minutes making a face whenever his brain decided to bring back the nights events. He heard movement from Leo’s room, the small pitter patter that belonged to your feet. Raph kept his gaze down, whatever playing on the tv long forgotten, he saw your feet when they tentatively approached the couch.

“Um Raph” Your tone was hushed.

“Didn’t see anything, matter of fact nothing happened” Raph grabbed the remote, you sat down and sighed. “Listen you weren’t the one with your tits out here” You crossed your arms grumbling, Raph almost chortled but then he remembered Leo and simply made a face.

“Why didn’t you tell me you and him were a thing? We’re friends, I mean you can do better but you know” He smiled when he felt your elbow smack his arm. “He’s really nice don’t be so mean” You sat back on the corner, Raph looked at you, you were wearing an oversized shirt clearly spending the night.

“Sorry for ah, not knocking” Raph spoke softly.

“Sorry for no telling you I had it bad for your brother” You smirked, enjoying Raph’s disgruntled expression.

You scooted close and hugged his massive arm, Raph smiled. “He better be good to ya... and well, don’t break his heart, he’s an ass but he’s my big brother” You nodded against his arm.

You had stayed for a little before returning back to Leo’s room, the leader was reading on his bed but quickly looked up when you came in. “Everything alright?” He asked tentatively. You nodded climbing into bed and in between his legs to lay on him. “We could’ve so gone a better way telling everybody, at least it’s out and we can just be ourselves” You rested against him, Leo’s chin a top your head.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you and smiled. “I’m never living this down but I’m happy we can just be ourselves” He poked your sides earning an earnest squeal from you.

Outside Raphael could hear the quiet giggling and laughter. He was happy for the two of you, it made sense.

Mikey walked in, board in hand and sweaty from skating for hours.

“So Leo loses his V card first, huh brah?”

Raphael groaned.

[spinster-sisters]

ohh okay! so to kick it off, can we get ateez members’ reactions to their very successful partner taking them to a company party like their trophy wife/husband/partner — not in a derogatory way tho!! but just like,, flaunting the members around and going on about how handsome and hardworking and amazing they are, even though everyone’s attention should be on their partner in that big event?

This is very different from the stuff I normally write but honestly I had so much fucking fun doing it. Like genuinely this made me smile like an idiot the whole time.

-

Hongjoong:

It's ur birthday or sum shit, but here's the dealio, he had some big work promotion at some smaller company. Most people haven't heard of it and it's nothing like the major corporation you work for so most people there just think of him as your trophy husband cuz he's so good-looking. while the party and presents were for you, you just could stop bring up how proud you were of him. He would immediately shut it down every time you brought it up, "yeah thank baby, I appreciate it. Hey, guys don't you think my baby is beautiful tonight?" Just won't let it distract from your attention no matter how much you bring it up. He doesn't think that he should be praised for doing what he should be doing. It's a nice sentiment and it makes him giggle but he wishes you would just let the guests congratulate you.

Seonghwa:

It's some work party on your behalf at your home. And Seonghwa planned the whole thing. Your not gonna deny you were just looking for a hot husband with social perks (read: rich parents and rich friends) but after meeting Seonghwa you genuinely fell so hard and so fast for how humble he was despite his wealthy upbringing, and you wanted to work even harder to provide him with the lifestyle he had always had at home. And he is happy to fulfill his house husband role for his doting partner. So yall are just happy and in love. Everyone at the party is your coworker and honestly, he would probably have just been your arm candy under any other circumstances, except you keep reminding people how great of a job he did getting everything set up. From a 5-star catering company to a live band, to imported wine from somewhere fancy, the whole thing took him weeks to put together and you will be dammed if he doesn't get the recognition for a job well done. He takes the praise blushing and mumbles quiet thank yous to all you and all guests who praise him, but he leaves it at that. If they ask him questions about the things around him he will keep his answers short and minimal yet polite before slipping away. Despite planning it, it isn't his party and he wants to keep it that way.

Yunho:

it's actually your friend's launch party for something or other. But you had a fair amount to do with the starting of the company as an investor and your friend had wanted to honor you as much as her. But here's the thing. Yunho's also pretty fucking cool, he doesn't have a permanent job, instead, he bounces around to all kinds of random things to keep himself entertained instead of just being at home all the time. the entire fucking time you're like "oh but have you heard what Yunho's been up to lately." He tries to one-up you with praise. Every time you say something cool he does, he brings up something cool you have done. And it just gets more and more intense as the night goes on to the point where the other giggles just fucking giggle cuz yall are so obvious in love.

Yeosang:

Yalls wedding is gonna be the social event of the year. You both come from very prominent families, but Yeosangs family got their money from fame not business. So when yall got engaged there was quite a bit of gossip about how "real" the relationship even was. Who the "throphy" was would change based on who you asked and it was getting annoying reading all the headlines. It was your wedding shower, and it was no secret that most of the people there were there for you and not him, but he couldn't care less. People kept coming up to you trying to talk business, and you were endlessly shutting them down because this was a day for both you and your soon to be husband, not for social climbers to try and get on your good side. The wonderful thing about Yeosang however is how much he can read you emotions even when you are trying to hide them. His course of action was simple. You both just fucking leave. You both had already talked to your actual friends and at a certain point you couldn't be bothered to keep up appearances with people who didn't respect both of you equally. So you left. Probably went and got some food in your cocktail attire. Much better use of time anyway.

San:

You're some kind of model or something. So it's like fashion week. So the whole time u have cameras shoved in your face and are being followed everywhere you go. But ur mans San is also incredibly beautiful, so you play a little game where whenever you go out all you do is put on sweats and a hoodie and you bring him out with him dressed in full fashion week regalia so the photographers are fucking confused who they are supposed to be taking pictures of. He thinks it's funny ao he plays along, wearing whatever you put him in and posing dramatically for literally every photo he can. You two go through the posted photos absolutely howling at them all night.

Mingi:

Your some big-time producer and Mingi is this like an underground rapper. Yall have been together long before you ever made it big and back before you got the job you lived almost exclusively off Mingi's part-timejob. But now the turntables have flipped and he can live mostly of your income allowing him to focus on his music and yall wouldn't have it any other way. But here's the shit. Some dopey fucking pop star you produce for comes over for dinner and makes a "joke" about mingi being a freeloader and you get so fucking petty. Especially after seeing Mingi's dejected face. So basically you help mingi produce a professional track and release it legitimately and not just on SoundCloud or in some shitty nightclub, and it fucking blows up way more than the other person music ever did and you just do nothing but talk up how amazingly talented Mingi is to your boss and he gets signed after the other person is dropped from the label. It's a great time.

Wooyoung:

Allow me to paint you a picture(this is a pun just wait for it.) Your an artist 😃 and Wooyoung is your husband and your muse. Almost everything you paint is either of him or reminds you of him. And your opening this big art exhibit and it's just this super fancy cocktail party with all the art snobs in the city and of course you bring him. As soon as yall walk in people immediately notice he's the guy in all the paintings and you're just like "yes isn't he stunning" and he's like "yes I am stunning" he's only half kidding. Whenever you go on and on to some art blogger about your muse he just sits there drinking it in with a smirk on his face, occasionally adding things like how you owe your success to his beautiful face. In that case, he's completely kidding cuz he knows damn well your talented enough to make anything beautiful with or without him.

Jongho:

ima say you married rich. You didn't have much growing up but Jongho has done nothing but spoil you. Despite the fact he came from a big business family, singing has always been his passion. When you begin to work in his father's company you rise through the ranks alarmingly quick due to your skill. It's some party for your father in laws retirement and everyone coming up to you betting your gonna be the next CEO. Here the thing though, Jongho left the company not long after you joined, so he could pursue singing and most people there haven't seen him since then and they keep giving him side-eyes, clearly thinking he threw his life away and he's just gonna be your "trophy husband" for the rest of his life. Not on your watch homie. You expected this so you and your supper supportive father-in-law set aside time for him to perform to the whole room and you're standing there all proud and satisfied as all your coworkers are dumbfounded at his amazing talent.

[rynhaswritersblock]

tiktok famous (hc) - part two | p.p.

summary: a whole bunch of dif tiktoks featuring you and bae peter

warnings: chaotic energy, cussing, and BUTTERFLIES

+ + +

- i'm backkkkkkkkk

- so y'all really enjoyed the last tiktok imagine

- and you wanted another

- SO HERE WE GO BABYYYYYYYYY!!

- so basically....

- (just enjoy it)

- i got a lot of tiktok related comments and requests and i hope i remember them all

- (big boobs? whew chile) ANYWAYS SO:

- like pretty much none of them link together so this hc is going to be split into sections of like... blurbs!!

- yayayayayaya

- this one is inspired by @drecming

- so i think most of us know this very special sound..

- ...

- CAN'T TAKE BIG DICK BUT I SUCK ON IT

- y eah

- so as per usual

- you and peter b chillin

- they really do b vibin doe

- OH BY THE WAY

- y'all are dating in this situation :)))))))))

- and as you're binge watching your favorite show you can't stop doing the hand motions to that friggin dance

- aka the epidemic of generation z

- i keep doing the sugar by brockhampton dance i literally can't stop it's fine

- and thank god peter somehow doesn't notice

- like your movements are so subtle but you deadass keep doing it like once per minute

- and so you get up

- like "fuck this, man. if it's stuck in my head i'm at least gonna make a tiktok"

- and so you set it up

- peter's still on the couch in the background

- this boy STILL doesn't really notice what you're doing

- to be fair hsmtmts is a very enticing show ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- but as soon as the audio plays peter recognizes it

- his head WHIPS over to you

can't take big dick but i suck on it

- he raises an eyebrow at you

i ain't fucking with the pussy, got a bump on it

- *eyebrow raise intensifies*

bad bitch put the pussy on me (on me)

- he sits up, watching as your hips roll (oh man)

whip out my dick then i hump on it

- he slightly cringes at the lyrics me too peter

i'm a bad ass bitch, what you lookin at?

- your butt

ima throw that-

- "oH NO YOU DON'T!" he yells, slight smile on his face as he swiftly shoots a web at you, the string wrapping around your waist and spinning you to him

- the song continues to play as you snort, wheezing as he balances you

- the video finishes and you raise your eyebrows at him

- "no throwing it back on camera," he says pointedly

- you tilt your head in a way that screams peter i love you but you and i both know that i can do what i wanna do and over-protectiveness can be toxic

- he sighs

- "okay, you can, but i'd like it better if it were just for me"

...

- HAHAHAHA

- okay NEXT ONE

- this next one is inspired by @ritxal

- in this one you can choose your relationship

- so peter is a natural born softboy

- he didn't choose the softboy life, the softboy life chose him

- but here's the thing

- it was friday night

- you were bored

- and you decided

- it was time for a change

- and so you approached the man

- who happened to be upside down

- because when is he not

- and, ignoring his protests, gave him an e-boy makeover

- poor peter was decked the fuck out

- striped long sleeve

- band tee

- black ripped jeans wITH THE CHAIN

- nike socks and af1s

- beanie

- and most importantly

- black nails and a little black heart under his left eye

- just picture it p lease

- and it his transformation was posted on your account to forever embarrass him

- and you lowkey found this look a lil wee bit ATTRACTIVE

- whatever

- okey this one's for you @lilmissquackson !!!!!!!

- y'all ever seen the without me (halsey) ones??

- ye

- even if you haven't you'll still get it lol

- so you're in class

- learning about sokovia because history and shit

- and, bored as hecc, you decide to whip out your phone and copy this video you'd seen

- you begin filming and place your right hand on top of peter's left (yay classmates!! sitting next to each other WHOOP!)

- his gaze is hard on his paper as he continues to scribble down notes

- you turn the camera to him for a bit and you're like yes perfect

- and then you return the camera and pull your hand away

- and he REACHES OVER AND TAKES YOUR HAND BACK

- AND YOU'RE LIKE  Y E S

- IT WORKED OUT

- PLUS HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW AND HE'S SO CUTE

- you put the phone down, smiling, adjusting your hand a little before you realize you can't take notes anymore because your hand is occupied and using your left hand just aint it period (a/n: im so sorry if any of y'all are left handed lol but pretend y'all are in opposite positions so he has your left hand haha)

- and it's then that he looks at you

- and if his eyes don't make you MELT

- okay i'm sorry that last one was mediocre but you get the point

- alright so like in this process of writing this i've been struggling a bit with details and stuff and making it sound good and funny so they're gonna be short and sweet bc i literally don't know What To Do :)))))))))))))))))

- back to your regularly scheduled programming hell yeah

- this one's for you, @drecming

- back at it again with the ideas!!!! fuck yes!!!

- okay SO

- you seen those "i'm on my savage shit" ones?

- where the guys hand is on the girl's thigh (OR IF YOU'RE A DUDE READING THIS JUST STILL IMAGINE YOUR OWN LEG I TRY TO KEEP THIS GENDER NEUTRAL BUT I FORGET AND PLUS RN IM JUST EXPLAINING THE TIKTOK KJSDBVIBUV) and then she pulls her leg away and the music is like

iM oN mY sAvAgE sHiT

- anyways

- peter's hand is just vibing on your leg

- for you dirty minded folks no it's not vibrating or doing all that janky shit we're children of god here

- says the one who just said the s word OOPS

- and you, as per usual, pull up the sound and start recording

- peter hears the music and is like Huh????

- and then you pull your leg away, grinning at him cheekily before he grabs you, phone flying out of your hand and he pulls you into his lap

"my thigh"

- you give him a look like excuse me sir hUh

- and his face is just like

0_0

- before he smiles at you and laughs and says he's kidding

- but then he stops laughing

...

- and raises an eyebrow

- WOAHHHHHHHH SPICY

- zooooweeeeemamaaaaaaa

- aight moving on

- THE NEXT ONES ARE INSPIRED BY YOURS TRULY!! YAY ME FOR HAVING IDEAS FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE!!!!

- so i'm sure you and like everyone @ your school (if you're in school.. lol) is familiar with this one

- i'm just gonna let y'all experience it idk why i've been telling the tiktok before idek sajbsidvb

- so you're in class right

- doing nothing bc your teacher sucks :////

- but its fine bc it's a fun class

- so you set up your phone with you and peter in the screen and start recording

- peter looks at the phone and then you, confused

"hey, stop!" you say in a whiny voice

- mans is like Uhhhhh what did i Do

"stop! omg peter sTop!" you're smiling at him

- he's so confused

- and then as you're talking

- your voice suddenly lowers into your lower register

"stop!! peter stop it- I SAID STOP."

- his eyes widen and a confused smile is on his face as he jumps back slightly

"YOU KEEP PLAYING *smacks your hand on the table* TOO DAMN MUCH."

- the video stops and you and peter are just silent for a second before busting out laughing

"you've never seen those?"

"no????"

"god peter, you live under a rock"

- the duck walked up to the lemonade stand and he said to the man running the stand: hey! bonk bonk bonk got any grapes?

- sorry i randomly thought of that

- okay NEXT

- this is the one that hits different

- gets you in your FEELS

- DAMN

- we all know peter's a gamerboy

- so he's just chilling playing minecraft on the xbox or something

- what a fuckin nerd

- jk minecraft slaps so hard

- anyways

- as per usual, you set up the camera and start filming

- and you

- i think you know what i'm talkin about

- you slip underneath his arms

- and start crawling into his lap

- and the SECOND he registers what's going on he fucking YEETS the controller behind him and wraps his arms around you

- and when i say yeets

- i mean like

- ZOOM

- you bury your arm in the crook of his neck and you feel him physically relax under you (heartbeat racing though of course) and hold you tighter, planting gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder

- ..

- god FUCK talk about B U T T E R F L I E S

- y'all are going to HATE ME for this one

- prepare yourselves

- so you guys are just chilling in peters room as y'all normally do

- and peter goes to the bathroom

- and like stupid adorable fuck he is

- mans left his phone on silly goose

- and of course

- we all know you can't help yourself

- so like a NORMAL HUMAN BEING

- you decide to snatch it and go look at his tiktok drafts, god knows why

- and the first one you tap

- WHEW CHILE

- your jaw drops to the floor as soon as you read the text on the video

"so apparently when a guy's chain dangles it's attractive..?"

- heart skips a beat

- hands are sweaty

- knees spaghetti

- you look up to make sure the bathroom door is still shut before you whip out your phone and start videoing

- peter is looking nervously cute into the camera before he leans out of shot,

- you know what's next

- and right as the beat drops

- he shows up, SHIRTLESS, with his cross necklace (you've only seen him wear once lmao) dangling down

- not to mention the goddamn CURLS hanging down

- and your heartbeat quickens

- ... both heartbeats...

- then fucking PETER JUST STROLLS INTO THE ROOM

- ALL INNOCENT N SHIT AS IF HE DIDN'T HAVE A VIDEO ON HIS PHONE THAT LITERALLY MADE YOU READY TO RISK IT ALL

- "why do you have my phone?"

- you've never slammed it onto the bed so fast

- "no reason"

- he raises a suspicious eyebrow before picking up his phone and unlocking it

- and the fear in his eyes when the screen opens to his video

- he looks back up at you, mouth slightly open in fear/awe/ohshitohgodohFUCK

- and you and your goddamn mouth-

- "peter, it's hot"

- and oh how the look in his eyes changed

😈

+ + +

until next time <3

[lord-explosion-baku]

Dabi x reader (soulmate au)

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, blood

A/n: OH MY GOD @razzella as soon as I put your ask on here I realized that you requested a hero!reader and now I didn’t mean to combine these requests because I didn’t make the reader a hero in this one, I just did a damn good goof is all. I’ll be sure to make it up to you but ima still post your request on here because of the angst. Huzzah! ALSO if Dabi isn’t Endeavor’s son then I’m going to quit writing. That is all.

The first time you saw through your soulmates eyes, you didn’t know what was going on. You were on the sidewalk, on your way to grade school and suddenly you weren’t seeing through your eyes but through someone else’s??

They were kicking a ball around with two other kids, a boy and a girl, that had white hair. They looked like they were having a lot of fun. The vision literally knocked you off your feet and when you got your own vision back, you had scrapes on your arms and legs. You raced to school, ready to tell someone about what you thought might’ve been your new quirk!

Your teacher lectured you about being late but you didn’t listen, instead babbled all about everything that had happened to you.

Your teacher pulled you aside and explained to you what really happened. You had a soulmate? And you could see through their eyes? Awesome!

You learned that your vision would be shared with your soulmate if you willed it to happen, if you were extremely stressed out, or if you felt jubilantly happy. All day long you tried to figure out you could show your soulmate to say your first ‘hello!’

You decided to try and draw the girl you had seen from his eyes. White hair and glasses? It wasn’t too good but you drew yellow flowers around her and the ball on the ground. Okay, here we go! You tried as hard as you could to stare at your drawing and send it to your soulmate. How were you supposed to know if it worked?

Minutes passed and suddenly your vision was swarmed away and replaced with theirs. You saw the white haired girl again, this time you saw that there were flecks of red in her hair. She was mouthing something to you, er, them. A hand stretched out and put a yellow flower in her hair. They took a couple steps back and framed their vision with their fingers like a filmmaker would and picked up the same ball from earlier and chucked it at her. The vision ended with the girl running at them.

Wow. You swiftly got back to your drawing, putting red flecks in the girl’s hair, and drew a big and black frown over her mouth along with angry eyebrows. You drew a red tic-tac-toe mark on her forehead to annunciate her agitation and you sent the vision their way.

The next vision you got from them, was seen from the ground, you could tell they were laughing from their shaky vision, their hands clapped together a few times and it was over.

From then on, the two of you sent visions back and forth for years. The two of you helped each other on tests, rather, he would seldomly use you to cheat when it came to a tough problem. That’s how you found out his name was Touya, it was written on his papers. He was big on showing you stray cats he would see on the street and you would show him your progression on artwork.

The first time you saw his face, would be the last.

You were at home, doodling nothing of importance and you got a vision from him. He was at some sort of concert, bobbing his head, throwing his fists in the air. The band members looked super crust punk, patches on their jeans and vests with funky bright hair and they acted just as crazy as the crowd. You wished you could hear what was playing and you wondered what it would be like if you could go to one of the shows he frequently visited. You hoped you would be cool enough for him but you figured, you guys were soulmates. Whatever you were, you would be perfect for him.

About an hour later you got another vision from him. It was blurry, he wasn’t seeing right. He gripped onto a bathroom sink and spat blood into it. He was at home. He looked up into the mirror and you saw and furious and… upset red haired boy with piercings staring back at you. He yelled something but you couldn’t make out the words. Then, he punched the mirror, distorting the image of him. Turquoise eyes blinked, once, twice and then the vision was over.

You ran out of the house as fast as you could, insure of what to do. You looked up at the stars and tried sending them to him, you saw the neighbors cat grooming himself, you saw a cherry blossom tree. You waited for him to respond something, anything to you, but it never came.

From then on, there was nearly nothing. Other than when he woke up to a shaded room when his guard was down, always midday, he never sent another vision to you. At least you knew Touya was alive.

There wasn’t much help on the internet on ‘How To Find Your Soulmate Who Doesn’t Want To Be Found,’ but you didn’t give up. Not really. When you saw something beautiful like a hummingbird or a sunset you would send it his way. No response. It wasn’t like linking your vision to his took out any of your energy so you didn’t stop.

You got a job in an arts and crafts store where you could get discounts on art supplies. You worked in the framing department but on your breaks you sat outside and drew or painted. On one particular day, you were emotional, so you began painting the only thing you could think of, him.

Much like that old vision, the painting was distorted. You painted his pale skin a shade of blue and accentuated the red of his hair and the blood on his lips. The mirror was cracked around his face much like ice. You chose to paint his eyes the color of your own, to make a statement that nobody, other than yourself, would quite understand.

You picked up your work. It was… really good and you hated it. You hated him. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You understood that everyone had bad things happen in their lives but the fact the just cut you off completely hurt so bad. No explanation! Not anything! You wanted to set the painting on fire, you were so angry. Instead you tossed it on to the blacktop you were sitting in. Let the sun damage it.

Minutes passed. Your lunch break was surely over. You didn’t bother with your food. You didn’t bother going back.

The sound of footsteps started you but you didn’t bother looking up at you was approaching. Probably your boss looking for you. You were ready to feign an illness and go home. Patchy hands grabbed your painting. That got your attention.

You tried to look at who was standing in front of you but he was silhouetted by the sun. He put the piece between up in front of his face so you couldn’t see him. You could tell by his sneakers and jeans that he was around your age. Definitely not your boss.

“This is… very nicely done. Incredible work,” said the man in a low voice.

“If you want it, you can take it.”

The man chuckled. “I said it was incredible. Not that I liked it.”

You stood up. “Okay, asshole, there’s no need to be rude about it,” you grabbed the painting from his hands and suddenly your vision swirled and you were looking at yourself, puffy eyed and agitated. Your eyes were glossed over by the vision. “Wait-“ you blindly moved your hand over to where he was staring at you but he took a step back.

“You’ve really improved since that first picture you sent me.”

You saw your own eyes widen at the realization. “Touya?”

“No,” he said. “It’s not Touya anymore.”

You took a step forward waving your hands around trying to grab on to him. “Please, let me see you.”

“You don’t want to see me, I promise. I just… wanted to tell you that you were doing a good job. I wanted to know if you were okay.”

“Are you kidding me? Fuck you, Touya, it has been years and you haven’t reached out to me! I think I- stop walking away!”

You willed your vision to go to him and he froze then, just as blind as you were.

“That was clever of you,” he said trying his best to walk in a straight away from you.

You closed your eyes and ran for him, relying on his vision and him not be able to see through yours. “More clever than you think!” You wrapped your arms around him, halting him from going anywhere.

He chuckled, “you got me.” He put his hands behind his head. “Now what? You gonna force me to be your boyfriend or something?”

“You wanted to know if I was okay? Well then, let me tell you. I’m not. There hasn’t been a day pass by where I hadn’t had that image of you punching that mirror in my head!”

He sighed. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Well I did!” You cried, putting your head to his chest. “I felt like I lost you that day. You never showed me anything! I lost a… a…”

“A soulmate?” He scoffed.

“I lost a friend! And what, now you come here just tell me you don’t like my painting and then go on your merry way and never speak to me again?! That’s not how this works! If you come into my life you stay in my life or you resist the temptation and never come at all!”

In your vision you saw your head and a patchy hand come down on it, stroking it. He had… staples connecting a second skin of some sort to his arm and hands. “I did,” he said.

“Did what?”

“Resist the temptation of coming into your life. For a long time now. I don’t think you realize how much you send me. I’ve… watched you for awhile. You have a good life. I know that if I was a part of it I’d be this rotten thing bringing you down. So I resisted that temptation. But then I saw that.” He looked at the painting that was dropped to the floor. “And I knew where you were and now I’m,” he exhaled. “Now I’m here.”

“Let me see you,” You said into his chest.

He closed his eyes. “Please,” You said.

He was silent for a moment, stroking your head. You could feel his heartbeat pickup through his chest. This was really hard for him. “Okay,” he finally said. “How about on the count of three we both let each other see again.” You nodded. “Alright one…” you wiped your eyes, “two…” he didn’t think you were that dumb did he? “Three…”

Your vision blurred and suddenly you could see. You looked into those turquoise eyes that you longed to see for so long now. They were hazed over. You didn’t relinquish your vision from him. The same type of patches he had on his hand were on his face, under his eyes, on his chin, covering his ears, poked in by some sort of staple. His red hair was now a jet black, spiked up. He was still handsome though.

“So you didn’t get over your punk phase, I see.”

He cleared his throat. “I’d really rather not be looking at myself right now.

“Sorry,” You said blinking, allowing him to see for himself again. “I thought you were going to try and trick me.”

“So you tricked me instead? Mischievous.” Your hand reached up to touch his face and he frowned. “Pretty gross, right?”

You shook your head. “You’re definitely not a Touya but I like it. I think you’re…”

“Save it,” he rolled his eyes.

“Save what? I don’t need your permission to think my soulmate is handsome!”

He laughed then, a genuine one. “As long as I don’t need your permission to think that my soulmate is perfect. Even when she has been crying.”

You looked down, ashamed that he saw you crying. Not for a bad reason though. You were still incredibly upset with him. “I meant what I said, … you.” You didn’t know what to call him. “You can’t enter my life one day and be gone the next.”

“I guess I can’t now, knowing that you have trickery up those sleeves of yours.” He pulled you into an embrace. “I can’t say that I’m upset with it, though.”

He held you tightly. It was so nice to finally have him. To know him. To see him and to feel him. The two of you stayed like for for minutes.

Finally the two of you sat in the shade next to your work. He asked you about your painting, what kind a paints you preferred to use, what inspired you, besides him of course, and you talked and talked. You didn’t asked him what happened that day or what he has been up to. You figured he would tell you when he felt it necessary. You did, however, ask for his name.

“You can call me Dabi.”

~

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly @rubyred-28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @personoffangirlingandtears @glixeo @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

[crackimagines]

Sayaka and S/O imagine

in a nutshell: its late, im bored out my ass and i need to write something tooth-rottingly sweet with one of the DR Gals because they don’t get enough love.

Imagine and my thoughts under the cut, + thanks if ya actually do read it considering I don’t do much serious writing on this blog.

Ya know, with a lot of the shitposting I do, I don’t get a lot of chances to do some wholesome moments with Danganronpa characters without having to go to angst-ville. 

And plus the only other times where it HAS been seen was during my P3 writing stuff. So I decided, fuck it, let’s just make one purely wholesome.

And why not with a DR Gal too?

(if you can’t tell I have a bit of a soft spot for Sayaka)

Word of warning it’s also kinda long as SHIT

Sayaka walked back and forth in the music room impatiently, her mind racing with thoughts.

She had invited her S/O to the room, saying it was a surprise for their birthday. Sayaka spent literal weeks in preparation for this day with a present she thought would reach out to her S/O’s heart.

Earlier that day during lunch...

(Kaede) “Sayaka, how many times do we have to say it? S/O will love the song you wrote no matter what!”

(Ibuki) “Kaede’s right! We practiced with you, and we DEFINITELY would’ve said something if it was shit!”

(Kaede) “N-Not the words I would’ve used but not too far off.”

(Sayaka) “Thanks again you guys, I know I know...It’s just that I really wanna surprise him you know! I made sure to ask Makoto if he could distract S/O while you two get prepped.”

(Kaede) “With Shuichi, Mahiru and Hiyoko’s help, I’m sure that we would’ve been fine!”

(Ibuki) “And besides, the gift itself is amazing! A song written by not ONLY Sayaka Maizono and her gang, but with Risette AND a Japanese speaking Puerto-Rican named Paz! That’s some serious creativity points right there!”

(Kaede) “Yeah, and you look pretty cute in the outfit you’ll be wearing!”

(Sayaka) “Hm...I just hope nothing goes wrong. It seems like when I plan these kinda things, it doesn’t go right.”

(Ibuki) “Just breathe girl! If Ibuki says you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine!”

(Kaede) “We got your back! Now come on, eat up! Your food’s gonna get cold!”

Present...

Sayaka took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts and beginning to calm down.

(Sayaka) “Come on Maizono! You got this! Rise-chan helped you out, Kaede and Ibuki helped you out, you got this! I’m not a little caterpillar, I’m a butterfly now-”

(Makoto’s Voice) “S-Sayaka?”

(Sayaka) “ACK!”

She spun around seeing Makoto and S/O standing in front of the door, slightly wide eyed but awkwardly smiling.

(Makoto) “Were we-snrk-interrupting something?”

(Sayaka) “Bah, shush!”

(S/O) “S-Sayaka? What is all this?”

She smiled widely before snapping her fingers and the curtains behind her unfolding, Kaede, Ibuki, Hiyoko, Shuichi and Mahiru holding instruments.

“Just a little birthday gift.”

I love you todoite kono omoi I love you; I hope these thoughts reach you

kitto itsuka wa kanau yo ne I'm sure one day it'll come true

konna kimochi setsuna sugiru no Such feelings are too painful

hajimari nante wakaranai no I don't understand things such as beginnings namae mo heibon de doko ni demo isou It seems like you could have an ordinary name and be anywhere demo nanmannin ite mo watashi But no matter how many people there are kitto kimi wo mitsukeru yo I'm sure to find you sunao na kimochi tojikome  I don't like the me who locked up these quiet feelings kara ni komotta jibun ga iya de  And confined herself in a shell ki no nai furi suru sono tabi ni Each time that I halfheartedly hold myself back tada itami ga fueteku The pain merely grows kimi wa nani wo negau no? What do you wish for? soba ni ite hoshii I want to be close to you zutto zutto sore dake na no ni Forever, forever that's all I want and yet…

(doki doki…) (Thump thump…)

koi no yokushiryoku Love deterrence hora GAME no hajimari Look! It's the beginning of the game massugu na omoi ga hora Look at these straightforward thoughts ima afure hashiridasu Now I'm overflowing and I start to run

hitori nante mou I don't want to be alone any longer! iya da yo Look at me! mite yo Everything leads to you watashi no koto zenbu kimi he to tsunagaru no donna kako mo mirai mo zutto No matter the past or the future, forever zutto…. And ever…. kono deai ga sekai wo kaeru This encounter will change the world houkago CLASS ni ima wa futari After school in the classroom kamisama ga kureta CHANCE yo Now just the two of us, This is a chance given by God jikan wa tada sugite yuku Time merely passes by kitto kono mama I'm sure that if this goes on futari wa sudoori We'll pass each other by senaka awase de With our backs facing each other hanarete yuku…. We move apart I love you todoite kono omoi I love you; I hope these thoughts reach you kitto itsuka wa kanau yo ne I'm sure one day it'll come true konna kimochi setsuna sugiru no Such feelings are too painful onegai tomete… Please stop… koi no yokushiryoku Love deterrence Once Sayaka was done, she slowly looked up to meet her S/O’s face and see if he was satisfied with her performance.

...Only to realize Classes 78, 77-B and Kaede’s class were all present and had come into the room without her noticing.

Everyone began clapping, and it only intensified when S/O stood up and they clapped even harder.

Sayaka stood in awe, her face flushing red while the the rest of the band bowed.

(Sayaka) “U-Um...Thank you all!”

(Ibuki) “You didn’t invite these guys did you? I thought we were only performing for S/O!”

(Kaede) “D-Don’t look at me!”

(Mahiru) “Oh, I did. I thought if we were doing a song our classes should see! After all we’re all friends!”

(Shuichi) “Er...as much as a nice thought that is, that song was specifically written for S/O only...”

(Mahiru) “Oh. O-OH. Did I just...?”

(Hiyoko) “Psh, way to screw the pooch on that one...”

Once the crowds began to thin out, S/O went up to a still blushing Sayaka.

(S/O) “Sayaka, that was a beautiful song! I’m really blessed to have someone like you write a song that passionate for me!”

She snapped out of it, and smiled back at S/O, shaking her head.

(Sayaka) “It wasn’t just me ya know. Rise, Paz and everyone in the back here made it possible! I...”

She looked down, too embarrassed to meet their eyes.

(Sayaka) “I just wanted to give you something that you might have a nice memory with...”

(Ibuki & Kaede) “Baaaawwww!”

(Hiyoko) “Bah, you two are a bunch of fuckin broads! You two talk that mushy shit out...oh and happy birthday. Come on, Mahiru.”

Mahiru nodded and bowed before leaving with Hiyoko.

(S/O) “Hey, let’s go out to eat tonight! It’s the least I can do for you after that!”

Sayaka nodded happily and went out with S/O.

(Ibuki) “W-Wait, do we have to clean up the mess?”

(Shuichi) “I say we should just give them the freebie here. It IS a special day for them after all...”

(Kaede) “Shuichi, how come you don’t do anything like that for me?”

(Shuichi) “Wha-YOU’RE THE ULTIMATE PIANIST, WHAT DO YOU THINK I COULD DO?!”

(Ibuki)[Muttering] “Investigate why your ass is about to be put in the doghouse...”

[dazzledbybooks]

Two teens meet after tragedy and learn about love, loss, and letting goNaima Rodriguez doesn’t want your patronizing sympathy as she grieves her father, her hero—a fallen Marine. She’ll hate you forever if you ask her to open up and remember him “as he was,” though that’s all her loving family wants her to do in order to manage her complex OCD and GAD. She’d rather everyone back the-eff off while she separates her Lucky Charms marshmallows into six, always six, Ziploc bags, while she avoids friends and people and living the life her father so desperately wanted for her. Dew respectfully requests a little more time to process the sudden loss of his parents. It's causing an avalanche of secret anxieties, so he counts on his trusty voice recorder to convey the things he can’t otherwise say aloud. He could really use a friend to navigate a life swimming with pain and loss and all the lovely moments in between. And then he meets Naima and everything’s changed—just not in the way he, or she, expects. Candace Ganger's Six Goodbyes We Never Said is no love story. If you ask Naima, it’s not even a like story. But it is a story about love and fear and how sometimes you need a little help to be brave enough to say goodbye. Excerpt: Dad cell May 3 at 7:33 PM Transcription Beta “Guess who’s getting ready to come home and take you to Ivy Springs? That’s right, Ima. It’s happening. It’s finally happening. Don’t tell Nell. I want to surprise her.” 0:00 -0:10 Speaker Call Back Delete Email Draft (Unsent) To Subject I’m holding my breath Until you’re standing in front of me Because we’ve danced this song So many times before Promise. And I no longer trust You’ll do what you Just in case, I’ll count the hexagons. NAIMA Nell is a dingy yoga mat; the sweaty barrier between total chill­ status and my shit reality (aka, my annoying stepmom and ru­ iner of all moments) (trust me on this). “JJ and Kam aren’t going to believe how much you’ve grown since the funeral,” she says on our long­ass 794­mile drive from Albany, Georgia, to Ivy Springs, Indiana. She tap tap taps her long, pointed fingernails against the steering wheel to the beat of what­ ever imaginary song she’s playing in her head. Probably some­ thing disco or hair band. The radio is silent, always silent, when we ride together, but the second she speaks with that high­pitched nasally voice I loathe, I regret this necessity. I concentrate harder on the objects we pass so I can properly pinch my toes between them. Tap my nose. Tap my nose. Tap my nose. Tap my nose. Tap my nose. Tap my nose. Click my tongue. Click my tongue. Click my tongue. Click my tongue. Click my tongue. Click my tongue. Flick my thumbnail. Flick my thumbnail. Flick my thumbnail. Flick my thumbnail. Flick my thumbnail. Flick my thumbnail. Flick. Flick. FLICK. I continue with my sequence the length of the drive. Nell hates it, but I hate when she wears fingerless gloves in the summer, so we’re even. Without my boring­ass stepbrother, Christian, to be my talk block—the dull cushion of conversation between Nell and me—(he left two days ago on a death star/plane to see his dad in NYC), the “spacious” SUV feels like I’ve been placed at a dinner table in a vast canyon and right across from me is literally the only woman I don’t want to meet for dinner. Like, why can’t I eat with the Queen of England or Oprah? I’m bound by my father’s love for Nell, or whatever, but now he’s gone, and I’m climbing the hell out of the canyon before she wants to talk about how big my naturally tousled hair is (a perfect mess), period cycles (semi­regular, FYI), sexually transmitted diseases (don’t have a single one, thanks), or worse—my feelings (happily bur­ ied!). Ugh. GTFO. The failing engine’s hum, where the metal scrapes and churns with a whir, competes with Nell’s increased tapping. I’ve missed too many objects, my toes rapidly pinching and releasing, to make up for what’s been lost. But it’s too late. My mind shifts automatically to a neon sign flashing warning! There’s always a consequence to messing up the sequence. Always. Counting is to time what the final voicemail Dad left is to the sound of my heart cracking open; a message I can’t listen to. It’ll become entombed in history, in me. My finger lingers over my phone and quickly retreats, knowing there’s nothing he could’ve said to make this pain less. Nothing can make him less gone. I look out the window to where my dreary­eyed reflection stares blankly back at me; Nell glides over the double yellow lines into oncoming traffic, violently overcorrecting just before we would have been hit by a semi. The sound of his horn echoes through the high­topped Tennessee mountains. Three thousand two hundred eighty­seven people die in car accidents every day. I Googled it. After I Googled it, I looked at pictures. And after I looked at pictures I went through the sequence. Car accident. Fatalities. My legs smashed up to my chest. Nell crushed into the hood. “Sorry,” she says; her voice rattles. “Make sure Ray’s okay back there.” I turn to investigate the vase­shaped metal urn surrounded by layers of sloppily folded sheets (Nell did that) and one per­ fectly situated hexagon quilt (that’s all me). The sun’s gleam hits U.S. Marine Corp just so, and I’m reminded again that he’s gone. Gone. “It’s fine,” I say, refusing to call that pile of ashes “Dad,” or “he.” The urn arrived several days ago in a twenty­four­hour pri­ ority package. Nell saying, “No reason to waste time getting him home,” and I was like, “What’s that?” and she was all “Your dad, silly,” and I was like, “Huh?” and she asked me if I wanted a banana­kale protein shake after she “got him situated.” A big hell no. I immediately dove into a Ziploc ration of Lucky Charms marshmallows to dull the pain of conversing with someone so exhausting. After he was transported in ice from Afghanistan to Dover, after they sorted and processed his things, after he was cre­ mated, after the police and state troopers closed down the streets to honor him as we drove him through, after we had the memorial service, after we were handed the folded flag with a bullet shell casing tucked inside, after they spoke of his medals, and after Christian and I sat in disbelief beneath a weep­ ing willow tree for three hours, Nell finally decided the ashes should go to his hometown in Indiana, after all. I didn’t think she’d cave, but after one talk with my grandma, JJ, she did. If anyone could turn a donkey into a unicorn, it’s JJ (or so she says). And so, it was decided—Dad, I mean It, was going home a unicorn. “Let’s stop for some grub,” Nell says, wide­eyed. “Hungry?” “Grub,” rhymes with “nub,” which she is. “No.” “Let’s at least stretch our legs. Still a few hours to go.” “Fine. But no travel yoga this time.” She pulls off to a rest area a few miles ahead, exiting the car. I crack a window and wait while she hikes a leg to the top of the trunk, bending forward with an “oh, that’s tight.” After, she says, “Going to the potty. BRB.” I flash a thumbs­up and slink deep into the warmth of my seat, hiding from the stare of perverts and families. My foot kicks my bag on the floor mat, knocking my prescription bottle to its side. Dr. Rose, my therapist in Ft. Hood, said sometimes starting over is the only way to stop looking back. But what about when the past is all you have left of someone? My gaze pushes forward to the vending machines. Dad and I stopped at this very place on our way to Indiana without basic Nell. He’d grab a cold can of Coke and toss me a bag of trail mix to sort into piles. If I close my eyes, it almost feels like he’s here—not a pile of ashes buckled tight into the backseat. We’d play a game of Would You Rather to see who could come up with the worst/most messed­up scenarios (I usually won). Would you rather wear Nell’s unwashed yoga pants every day for a month? Or call an urn full of ashes “Dad”? Sometimes, he’d pre­sort the trail mix, Leaving me the best parts (the candy­coated chocolate). I am one­of­a­kind Magic, Dad would say. But he was, too. A unicorn, I think. Definitely not a donkey. The more I think on it, Maybe JJ could turn Nell Into a unicorn, Too, But no magic is that strong. Dad cell June 1 at 9:04 AM Transcription Beta “Open the door.” 0:00 -0:03 Speaker Call Back Delete Sent Email No Subject Naima   Jun 1, 9:07 AM to Dad If I open it, Will you really be there Or just a memory From the last time? Nevermind. The ghost I see you, Outside my window.

http://www.dazzledbybooks.com/2019/09/six-goodbyes-we-never-said-blog-tour.html