#how do you start an album like that and then just keep going. is this man ok bc i'm not ok

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #10: MY DARLING, MY COMPANION

(also on spotify!)

It's the Constant Companions Closeups! A series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, we talked about gender with Object of Affection! Today, we've made it to the title track (kinda?)! My Darling, My Companion! Do you think she's figured out what she wants to hear yet

---

Every time I first embark on the process of making another album, I always think I know what the final product will look like. This is a fairly recent phenomenon, born of the part of me that thinks that planning things out and being somewhat disciplined in the act of creation will ultimately lead to a better final product. That's fair and all, but it's also genuinely never how things actually shake out, as I almost always toss that out the window and just start writing shit the first chance I get.

Constant Companions, however, is the closest I've gotten to actually following through on those initial ambitions. Well, maybe not the initial ambitions - without fail, every time I finish an album, there's a two week period where I start writing new material thinking "this next album's gonna be the MOODY one" and it's never the moody one - but rather the plan I developed once my pile of works-in-progress started looking album-shaped.

There's always been some amount of self-referential leitmotif-loving song-series energy in what I've written - Imaginary, Effervescent and Secret Girlfriend; sampling myself on Too Much Autotune or Second Hello; that little four note motif. I had been leaning even further into it with People Posture Play Pretend and 🤼‍♀️, bringing the little interconnected background radiation straight to the forefront, and I wanted to keep going.

So, I would take that mindset and write about motifs - the things that have stuck with me and gotten me to where I am - the hopes that I've clung to, the dreams I want to make real, the patterns that I keep finding myself in. The things that haunt me and the things that keep me living.

...

My constant companions, if you will.

wait didn't i already do that bit. what was i talking about when i did that

This might be incredibly obvious if you've already read the Closeup for Breeze Blows, but yes, this is another song about being plural.

Like I said previously, writing these self-directed songs portraying internal conversations has been a very big part of finding peace within myself. Having to confront a part of myself both alien and overly familiar with seemingly a mind of her own is, understandably, scary as shit in countless ways! If nothing else, it feels like sometimes I can't even talk about it out loud without sounding completely gone.

But it's made me realize and really think about something I think most people take for granted, something that feels silly to even say out loud given how obvious it is but that has completely changed my relationship with myself - you are always a part of your own life.

The overwhelming, ceaseless negative self-talk I lived with for however many years never went away because it was a part of me, and no amount of compartmentalizing or boxing-up or repression or anything helped even in the slightest compared to the act of showing her kindness and patience, letting her be a genuine part of me, being a friend to her. Doing so revealed to me a happier, more hopeful part of myself I thought I'd lost forever.

Letting yourself be yourself, and loving yourself for who you are, is the best way to be!

or something. that feels so fucking dr seuss of me to say whatever we're corny here we will Be corny

---

The working title of this song was "Hathaway", inspired entirely by my friend Lexie messaging me one morning about a dream in which I had released a song named as such. Naming and writing songs based on dreams is maybe my most beloved bit at this point, but my girlfriend ultimately convinced me to make the title My Darling, My Companion. Mostly because she (correctly) thought it'd be cooler than just a pure title track.

The verses were written by sampling my own previous demo for a title track, turning it into a call-and-response between me and GUMI, and the chorus was lifted almost word-for-word from another demo of mine using Teto. That second demo was partially inspired by the character Morgan from the visual novel Heart of the Woods - which I mostly bring up because it's just a really good yuri VN that is near and dear to my heart. And also because my friend Teffi voices the character Tara in said VN. And also because I recorded my vocals for this song at her house. And also because the voice that says "me when I'm goated as fuck" right before the second verse is in fact Teffi in the recording booth with me. Yuri runs deep in my veins.

Speaking of which, this song, in my mind, is one dedicated to advancing my agenda of GUMI x Teto, albeit subtly and in a roundabout way.

See, GUMI has always been something of an idealized voice in my other work. The songs of mine she sings historically have always been hopeful, upbeat, expressing some sense of comfort - I Wish That I Could Fall maybe being the only exception, and even then still offering some hope in the end.

On the flipside, there's a part in verse two where my voice is swapped out for Teto for a couple lines. I couldn't really tell you what it is, since it's not in terms of timbre or range, but Kasane Teto - her Synth V voicebank especially, but really all iterations of her - is the vocal synth that feels the most like a stand-in for my own voice. And really, writing with her almost seems to bring out parts of myself that are a bit too honest.

These two juxtaposed against each other made perfect sense. It helps that they have The Color Scheme, too.

Finally, this song is basically just one big reference to my song Destiny, from back in 2018, and it even closes out with lyrics based very directly on its closing refrain. I don't have much else to say on that front - but there's another Jamie Paige song this bears some shared DNA with, and a blatant reference to it is hidden in plain sight right as the bridge transitions to the outro.

Do you know what it is?

That's the post! If you have any questions, feel free to send them my way - I'm planning on doing a big AMA style bonus post after the album's finished!!

Speaking of which, tomorrow, we'll be talking about the eleventh and final track on the album - a simple little song about a computer falling in love... :~)

[thatstoomanysausages]

My favourite activity to indulge in recently in non-stop binging The Crane Wives' songs, especially the new album, and tallying how many times I can somehow link the lyrics to Desert Duo.

At this point it might be a talent of delusion, and I am winning.

Here is a list of lyrics in the newest album that I am particularly delusional about (it's long. It's 2am)

(btw it's every single new song. I am tired as fuck)

Scars:

"All the love, all the kindness, all your best-laid plans/Couldn't stop me from becoming the way that I am" (3rd Life reference referring to Scar inevitable turning red despite all of Grian's plans to keep him alive and safe)

"A fatal fault at the start/Tell me it's inevitable that I'd end up with scars" (3rd Life, when Scar is quickly killed in the beginning by Grian)

"Nothing could have been done/Is that right?" (3rd Life. Conversation between Grian and Scar after the creeper prank)

"Nothing could have been done" (3rd Life. After Scars falls to red)

"Nothing could have been done/Is that right?" (3rd Life. After Grian kills Scar with his own bare hands)

"End up with scars from falling/Down, down" (3rd Life, Grian's final death via suicide)

"We were always meant to fall apart" (Not even one specific series. Every single one of them actually.)

Bitter Medicine:

"Are you ashamed of me, or did you buy what I'm selling?" (3rd Life reference about Scar's scamming nature and Grian's disappointment that hides the fact that he's charmed by Scar. Every. Single. Time.)

"Made my bed but I'll sleep anywhere, anywhere" (Wild Life reference. I think we all know. Pillows smelling like waffles? Yeah.)

Higher Ground:

"I gave up the truth and now I can't take it back" (3rd Life. Grian telling Scar that he was the one that brought the creeper over. Or. Double Life Grian if he ever told Scar about his Secret Soulmate. OR. Wild Life, Grian telling Scar literally anything about the wildcard)

"I didn't wanna hurt anyone" (Oh.)

"The corvids are calling/Warning the forest a predator is approaching/Am I in danger, or am I the threat" (Grian is often characterised as a corvid if not a parrot. Basically any scenario in Wild Life where Grian is warning Scar about the wildcards despite the fact that he is at fault of making them happen)

Predator:

"What were you thinking?/Shouldn't you know better?/You opened a door for an apex predator" (Any scenario in which Scar welcomes Grian into his home and doesn't think twice about the danger the other could be harbouring. His trust for Grian is unimaginable)

"I keep forgetting the lessons I've learned/So I keep getting hurt" (Before Scar won, he never remembered what had happened with Grian, so he went back to him for safety multiple times, teamed with him, didn't mind his company, not knowing the dangers that Grian represents just by existing)

"Your heart is a nasty place/I'm afraid to say no to you" (...Yeah)

"Keep your lies and your denial/I am fighting for survival/My heart is a changing shape/What if I said no to you?" (DOUBLE LIFE DESERT DUO TAKE ME HOME. The 'changing shape' line implying that their soulmates could change their soulbound partners if they really wanted to, and could adapt to being with another if they desired it)

"You took advantage of another anxious people-pleaser" (I can't keep doing this. Honestly, depending on your point of view, this could go either way for them in varying seasons, they're doomed in every universe)

"I keep forgetting that you wont learn/So I keep getting hurt" (And now it switches to Grian on this paralleling line. He forgets about Scar's undying loyalty and falls into the trap of his safety every time, only to come out hurting him or not protecting him like he swore to in 3rd Life. This line goes so hard)

Say It:

"Say it/If it's over, say it/So I can move forward/Please don't leave me in the dark/Praying for a wayward spark" (This whole chorus screams them. They won't communicate. They never officially separate from one another, always somehow intertwined, but neither will finalise their allyship. I need therapy)

"I'm haunted by your tenderness" (3rd Life Grian traumatised by the half-hearted hits Scar was giving because he was letting Grian win, he never wanted to fight, he felt Grian deserved to win because he had done so so much for him. He was completely smitten)

"And if we meet as strangers again/Would you refuse to meet my eyes?" (Grian internally questioning Scar after he killed him in the 3rd Life finale, harbouring more guilt than he can comprehend, literally)

"You know I'm loyal to a fault" (Scar and Grian interchangeably in 3rd Life...)

"I will sit here waiting/Waiting for the axe to fall" (Scar submitting his life to Grian after they are left the last two alive. And also, if you're insane for Treebark, there is a glaringly obvious implication of Martyn feeling incredible guilt after axing Ren down to red, even if he asked him to.)

Mad Dog:

"Keep looking for the end of the tunnel/Never seems to get any closer" (The two waiting as winners for the games to end and alongside it, their suffering as well. They will never be free from circling around each other, over and over and over again)

"We both know the ship is gonna sink/But I keep reaching for the shore/Never seems to get any closer" (They both keep reaching towards each other, knowing that they will never truly be able to be together, especially after the first time where they did, and it ended horribly for them)

Arcturus Beaming:

"My sanctuary to worship the pain" (References the panda sanctuary that Scar built to help the soulmates heal their bonds, only to never complete its purpose with the two that needed it the most, ironically including the one that built it)

"And I am tired of forming a cliff face/Inside of my chest now" (Grian remembering jumping off of Monopoly Mountain and the weight that it now burdens his heart with. This line is diabolical with the right context)

"I'm grieving all that I gave" (Both of them grieving the sacrifices they made for one another, their sacrifices only making their relationship more strained overtime)

"A mirror image of us here, but they're pointing up at our sun and/Asking themselves/What exists beyond, beyond, beyond, beyond?" (Other versions of themselves in different life series looking at their 3rd Life selves and wondering what it was like to be so tightly allied)

"But there's still time, it's not too late/Nothing will change until I change" (Grian's attempt at teaming with Scar in Limited Life, savouring the time he had with him before killing him. He will never change their bond, he is always destined to kill him one way or another)

Time Will Change You:

"Planting hearts in a grave/Pray they grow after it rains" (Grian burying all his allies, hoping that as he digs their graves, he can heal their broken bonds, the cracks only caused by himself. This can unfortunately apply to a lot of Grian's allies, but Grian and Scar's relationship tries to heal itself each season)

"Someday/Time will change you/You'll leave behind what doesn't move" (Someday Scar will remember and he'll leave Grian behind once he realises that Grian was never able to move on, and that his heart is still stuck neck deep in the sand where both their bodies laid at the end of 3rd Life)

"Give me a chance to get this right/I'm learning how to let go" (They're learning, but they'll always fail, no matter how many chances)

Black Hole Fantasy:

"There's a black hole in the living room floor/I keep trying to ignore, but it's growing" (Their need to team and interact is overwhelming, and the longer they ignore one another, the larger their need will get)

"If love is just a chemical reaction/Is there a pill to take? Something to quell this ache? Is this the real thing or a distraction/Is it worth the risk?/My life would detonate" (Mmmmmm I'm losing it here)

"I'm on my way to your house, I can't wait anymore" (Yeah.)

"My knuckles hesitate an inch away from the door/What happens when it opens?" (They've spent so much time apart and away from one another that they feel fear that the moment they reconnect, it won't be the same as it was in the desert)

"And on the other side is another life/A version of me with a spark in her eyes that I don't have" (Looking back to 3rd Life when everything was simpler and happier)

"You pull me in your arms and I feel your heart pounding/I take a step back to catch my breath/And we look at each other and double over/And laugh, and laugh, and laugh" (Yeah. Just yeah. This whole verse makes me sob)

Red Clay:

(Already I want to make a link to 'red' and Scar's existence in 3rd Life being very red)

"Blistering sun, my sweat soaking my clothing" (THE DESERT???)

"We don't have to do this the hard way" (We don't have to battle to the death bare handed. We don't have to.)

River Rushing:

"I know I can't grow with a hand around my throat/Hold yourself steady/Whenever you're ready" (Reference to their fight to the death in 3rd Life)

This entire song is just a narration of their fight honestly and it makes me violent.

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[carcarrot]

dream time

[edge-oftheworld]

happy birthday album of all time <3

[theinfinitedivides]

TABBER?????? WHAT THE F*CK????????

[pebblezone]

Idk how welcome home has overrun literally all of my social media but I guess I welcome it

[kalims]

he's a ten but he...

premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.

characters. dorm leaders

content. gender neutral reader

malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)

"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"

"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"

he blinks, then shrugs.

like i said, has NO sense of space.

if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.

if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!

cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.

if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.

(I wish I could be that unbothered.)

lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.

^ totally has his own album full of pictures.

if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯

since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.

while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)

"child of man, have you slept?"

*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.

"WTF."

not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?

idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')

user: where tf r u??

ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?

user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES

unintentionally stood you up 💀

you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.

ghoul666: we do??

user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.

ghoul666: NO PLS

ghoul666: HELLO????

next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.

in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭

though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...

big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(

with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.

if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.

ghoul666: can we not go there

user: 😐

user: you are testing my patience love

ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)

ghoul666: how abt

ghoul666: mimic together? call

user: sighs

user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you

queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.

the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.

"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.

unsurprisingly does carry you.

asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)

vil (frets over you way too much.)

"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"

"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"

"I love you but please give it back—"

"I love you too, and no."

disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)

looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!

and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..

*shows up literally half an hour in*

why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)

vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.

oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..

you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.

if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!

you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.

"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"

you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)

vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."

you sigh.

"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."

vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."

"... I feel offended."

"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."

after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.

the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)

epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)

"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"

"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."

rook giggles away.

kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)

"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?

you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.

"a gift!"

"wait why does it say lot 111--"

as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.

but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..

fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.

after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.

"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"

"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."

if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...

( ^ it is btw.)

kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.

he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)

you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?

the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.

was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.

bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.

even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.

"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"

"for them! ;D"

"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"

"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"

you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...

(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')

azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)

"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."

"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"

"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."

pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.

now he won't go last 50!

ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.

last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.

love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.

but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*

but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.

who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..

yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.

they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.

one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?

...

they do look like they've seen some though..

jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)

long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.

"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.

azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"

he praises himself for his quick thinking.

COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)

then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.

it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.

you screech. "JADE PLEASE."

the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."

"AZUL."

"... only on a condition of course."

frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.

'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'

actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?

leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)

"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."

"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."

"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."

to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.

there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.

rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.

and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?

leona's work no doubt.

you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.

if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.

at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.

it goes something like;

"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."

a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.

you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.

...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.

"because you care about me?"

"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"

you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"

he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."

...

...

see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.

next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.

"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.

"really?" <- you, confused

riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)

“I'm just a little busy.”

“I understand,” riddle says.

“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.

“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…

“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point. 

for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.

that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)

you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.

he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.

but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.

…busy…

riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.

somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.

“THIS IS ABSURD.”

and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)

that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.

everyone noted to steer clear.

and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’

“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.

he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)

guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite. 

“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.

“i thought you were busy.” he adds.

your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.

he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile. 

“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”

“no!”

silence.

“no.” he repeats, weaker.

“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?” 

he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”

you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”

so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,

so cute…….

[bookishdiplodocus]

The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity

(Even when life beats you down)

Look, I’m a mom, I have ADHD, I’m a spoonie. To say that I don’t have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldn’t manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.

So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck “eat the frog first”, fuck “it’s all in the grind”, and fuck “you just need time management”—here is how I manage to write often and a lot.

Focus on having fun, not on the outcome

This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: “If you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you haven’t enjoyed the process… What’s the point?” and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.

I was so caught up in the narrative of “You’ve got to show up for what’s important” and “Push through if you really want to get it done”. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.

But your brain doesn’t like to grind. No-one’s brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brain’s going to say: “Huh. Writing gives us stress, we’re going to try to avoid it in the future.”

So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like “fun” and “flow”.

Rewire my brain: writing is fun and I’m good at it

I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didn’t need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.

I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.

Not setting any goals didn’t work for me—I still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like “have fun”, “get in the flow”, or “write”. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesn’t actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.

I didn’t even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.

I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.

Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.

I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I don’t muddle it with other associations.

Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle… Pick your stimulus and stick with it.

Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I don’t think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.

It wasn’t until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.

I lowered my definition for success

When I say that nowadays I write every day, that’s literally it. I don’t set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)—the only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes “naaahhh”. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. It’s not “success on a technicality (derogatory)”, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they don’t, they don’t. It’s still writing. No writing is ever wasted.

A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism

Obviously, “Setting a ridiculously low goal” isn’t something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: “It’s okay if I don’t write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, that’s a bonus.” Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didn’t know how to set a goal so low and believe it.

I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe I’m a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that I’m a writer. It’s an extra ward against imposter syndrome.

Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Days—days when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a car—teaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.

The more I do it, the more I do it

The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.

Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.

Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasn’t a bad writer to begin with.

The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didn’t set out to write more, it’s just a nice perk.

Look, I’m not saying you should write every day if it doesn’t work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.

No pressure

Yes, I’m still working on my novel, but I’m not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?

These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I don’t intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because there’s no pressure, it’s pure fun.

Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldn’t it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I haven’t found it yet. The short stories don’t cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldn’t produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)

Don’t wait for inspiration to hit

There’s a quote by Picasso: “Inspiration hits, but it has to find you working.” I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, it’s a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually it’s brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.

Accountability and community

Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and it’s such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.

The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.

Your toolbox

The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesn’t inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.

After a while, most “tools” run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with don’t require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.

Do you have any other techniques? I’d love to hear about them!

I hope this was useful. Happy writing!

[f1amour]

✧˚ · . make me juno

pairing | max verstappen x popstar!reader

word count | 2.3k

content warnings | some social media au, established relationship, smitten max, light dom!max, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, brief choking kink, praise kink, squirting, HEAVY BREEDING KINK, cock warming, teasing, unprotected sex — 18+ only, minors do not interact

authors note | happy belated birthday to max #1 certified cat lover <3

navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist.

yourusername juno out now available to download and stream! happy birthday baby 💋🤍

tagged — maxverstappen

comments below…

user1 MAX MUSIC VIDEO DEBUT

user2 begged for a cameo from max and we got a whole ass film 🧎‍♀️

yourusername my man is too hot for only a small cameo. made sure to showcase his actor side>>>

landonorris i did NOT have to watch an 8 minute film of you and max being horny. disgusting.

yourusername the first minute of the video was horny you could have exited but you watched the whole thing. our biggest fan 🥹🫶🏼

landonorris fuck off

maxverstappen1 wanna say that again?

landonorris 🏃‍♂️💨

user3 max trying to be serious through the video but breaks into a smile anytime y/n would sing to him 😭

user4 they just broke the internet with this video

user5 never thought i would see max and y/n horny on main in 2024

user6 did you guys not listen to her latest album? girl gave us a whole ass ovulation album. GIVE HER A BABY MAX!

maxverstappen1 i’m trying

─────────────────────────

being with max for five years now you’d grown used to knowing his likes and dislikes; both in & out of bed.

especially in bed.

“have you always been this keen on having kids? even before me?” you manage to spit out while sitting on max’s lap, his lips prepping kisses all over your neck and chest.

you had just spent the day celebrating his birthday on a yacht with all of yours and max’s close friends and family so he had been extra needy arriving home since he couldn’t have his way with you all day with everyone surrounding both of you.

his lips detach from your neck looking you in the eyes full of love, “i’ll remind you any chance i get when it comes to that, you are the reason i want a family. the reason i see myself being your husband and father of our children before you i never saw that with anyone else.” max would take any chance to remind you how ready he was to be your husband and have kids with you.

“i don’t want to wait anymore. not for the wedding or the babies…i want it now.” you whisper desperately clinging onto max. his eyes widen at your statement, “now?”

“we’ll have the wedding after the baby is born. we can go to to the courthouse this week and make it official just us two. don’t you want that, maxie?” sitting on his lap grinding against his hardened cock make it even more difficult for him to say the words.

“yes…fuck yes of course, baby. i don’t want to wait any longer to have you as my wife. gonna fuck you so full of my cum tonight and make you a mommy. god i can’t wait any longer.” his hands cupping your face and pulling you into a hungry and messy kiss. both of you quickly removing your clothes off each other desperately needing to feel as close as possible.

you start getting on your knees but max pulls you back up, “as much as i want you on your knees stuffed with my cock in your mouth, i need to taste you.” his words immediately taking affect on your core.

“b-but it’s your birthday…w-w-wanna gi—.” your words stutter out, after placing you on the bed hovering over you his lips meet your neck down to your stomach before he situates himself between your thighs.

“getting to taste you is the best gift i could ever get.” your legs squeeze his head, thighs keeping him close to your pussy as he licks, laps, and sucks until you're close to the edge.

"’m so close, max, so close," you feel like you're in a trance as his fingers hook inside of you brushing your g-spot. he presses his palm into your lower tummy, applying gentle pressure as you nearly thrash under him from how intense the buildup is.

"cum for me, baby. make a mess all over my face," he growls before you feel yourself snapping as your orgasm flows through you. max rides you through the orgasm, tongue lapping at your core as your legs are left shaking.

“max…” you gasp out of breath as cleans you with his tongue, your fingers slowly caressing his hair. he

"you are so perfect, baby." he cooes, thumb resting on your lip as you part your mouth and bite down on it. you feel him stiffen under you, "ik hou van je. (i fucking love you)" he groans under his breath as you wrap your lips around his thumb.

"my fingers look so good shoved in your mouth," he purrs, hearing you whimper as he massages your pelvis. you can feel yourself growing wetter, the heaviness in your mouth feels comfortable before his lips are on yours.

"shit," he hisses, "i’m done waiting…i’ll take my time with you later.”

he doesn't give you a chance to speak before he's fisting his cock, lining up with your entrance, and pushing in "fuck, fuck," his voice is low and raspy, the feeling of him sinking into you, whispering out a various dutch words as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.

"this," he thrusts, slamming the headboard against the wall,"is what l've been fuckin' cravin. can’t wait to see you round and full." his thrusts are deep and slow before he can't hold back and he's fucking you into the mattress, loud moans and skin slapping are the only sounds filling the room.

your walls flutter around his cock and you're coming for the second time that night, "gonna have you cum a few more times, baby. keeping us up all night and make sure i get you pregnant." he snaps, bed in shambles as it creaks and squeaks before his own thrusts are growing sloppy.

"gonna fill you up," he moans, "fuck, you're gonna be so fuckin' stuffed. looking so perfect carrying our babies." his breathing is laboured, chasing his release before it hits him and he’s spilling inside you.

you stay close together for a brief moment before you both are desperate for another round, trying to rock your hips because he's still hard inside of you, "max…," you plead. "need more. please, please, please.”

he chuckles deeply at your desperation, "yeah?" he switches your positions, flipping over, lying on his back as you're straddling him and you fall into his chest because he’s impossibly deep, you were sure you’d come right there once again just from that position

you rock your hips, steadying yourself over his chest as he groans, "that's my good girl, you feel so fucking good like this. my soon to be wife. mother of our babies. i love you.” he’s lost himself in you, unable to form a coherent sentence as you lose yourself in the feeling of riding him like never before.

his sweet words and whines coming from his mouth have you quicken your movements, "you feel so good, max," you mumble, "all yours, baby. i’m all yours," he groans, digging his fingers into your skin as he meets your thrusts.

“how you doing, baby? you okay?” despite being deep inside you he slows down checking on you. he was starting to feel the exhaustion catch up to him but he was still hard as a fucking rock with your cunt clenching around him.

you nod giving him a smile, “m’ okay…getting sleepy,” you mumble out before pulling him closer to you (if that was even possible), “fill me up one more time, maxie. then we take a nap…and go again.”

despite being completely exhausted from the hours of fucking you wanted max to ensure you were pregnant by the end of the break. you were ready to become his wife and now have his babies as soon as possible.

his thrusts are deep and slow while you two conversed until your last sentence he can't hold back and he is fucking you senselessly now giving deep and rough thrusts, your moans filling the room chanting his name.

"come on, baby. cum 'round my cock, yeah…fuck," he hisses when you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him inside of you as he comes inside you once again.

catching your breaths you lay on top of him now, his cock buried inside you, “can’t believe we’ve been awake all night.” you chuckle against his chest while his hand plays with your hair.

“i have a month of uninterrupted free time with you and i’m gonna take advantage of that.” max kisses your head and you close your eyes getting comfortable in his arms.

“remember when we first met?” you ask him, knowing he’d go on a yap session about it. he would talk about it to anyone who asked and you loved him so much for knowing the small things just from the first moment you met.

“do i remember? how could i forget when you assumed i was a mechanic instead of the driver? oh and your perfect smile—.”

2018

meeting at the united states gp in austin the year of 2018 you were just 19 years old on your first world tour of your singing career. you had a concert on the first day of the race weekend so you met a few of the drivers and you tried your best to remember their names but there was so many.

max had been watching your performance with a huge smile on his face, he was in a meeting causing him to miss the introductions most of the drivers had with you. but here he was waiting for you at the side of the stage to introduce himself. he had grown to be a fan the last few months and when he found out you’d be performing at the austin gp he was counting down the days.

“hi i’m max…i’m with redbull—.”

you had gotten off stage ecstatic with the crowd cheering you on to be meet with a slightly taller guy dressed in some jeans and a white jacket paired with a redbull hat. the redbull hat made you assume he was a mechanic for the team so you cut him off, “oh nice to meet you! i’m y/n, how is it like working on the cars for redbull? you’re a mechanic right?”

max was confused at the question many things did not make sense when you asked but he assumed you didn’t know much of the sport (which was very true). he decided to go alone with it appreciating the chance to speak with you just for a few minutes before you were pulled away again for some interviews.

few weeks later he got your number from lewis who had been a mentor in your life for awhile now being in the limelight at a young age he took you under his wing. after checking with you first he gave max your number sending you a text and getting his full name you search him up on instagram realizing he wasn’t a mechanic but a goddamn driver for redbull racing.

lewis couldn’t help but laugh at your cluelessness when it came to the sport only sending him messages if he won not caring for any other drivers; until now.

after many apologies through the phone and max waving it off as something to laugh about. you grew a close friendship with him for the next year waiting patiently for him to ask you out.

PRESENT

“i had to wait a year before i got the balls to ask you out and then—oh.” he chuckles stopping mid sentence looking down at you realizing you had fallen asleep. he gives your head a kiss and falls into some much needed sleep alongside you.

you had woken up a few minutes ago with your back against max’s chest settling between his thighs. he had been playing with you hair until his hands started wandering down your body, “max…” you sigh contently feeling his finger play with your clit.

when two fingers slip through your folds, an obscene moan runs through you before they're filling you up. "that's my good girl, look at how well you're taking my fingers," he cooes, fingers curled deep inside you.

"that feels good, doesn't it, baby?" he taunts, you nodded your head, eager to feel his fingers moving some more as you rocked your hips in sync.

the pressure building up made you squirm, max was edging you and now you were nearly in tears, “oh…oh god,” whispering as you beg him to let you cum.

"that's it, my pretty girl," he hummed, “love hearing your moans, love feeling you cum, baby. squeezing my fingers with your tight pussy. gonna have your pussy squeezing my cock after this.”

"fuck," max groans, your orgasm gushes out of you; soaking his hand and bed sheets. you pant trying to catch your breath, "think we need to get ready for the day...we can't stay in bed forever. i wanna take you to a cat cafe--."

"just one more for me, schatje, one more and then we go to all the cat cafes we want," he smiles sweetly, kissing your neck finding your sweet spot and getting a moan out of you. how could you deny him?

pulling you in for a passionate kiss he flips you around and looks you in the eyes filled with lust, "wanna try another position?" he mumbles against your lips and you nod, not having to tell him the one you wanna try because he knows it's your favorite.

with your face pressed into the bedsheets and ass up in the air he gives you a soft slap before sliding his cock deep inside your aching cunt, "fucking christ...shit," he groans with each deep thrust your walls squeeze him.

"not gonna last, max..." you whine, your hands grip the sheets as he gives you a rough slap on your ass, "me neither, baby. you gonna cum with me? come on, schat. gonna fill your tight pussy with my cum and make you mine forever." his thrusts growing faster and sloppier, but his words have you pushing back against him meeting his hips.

"yes, yes, yes...wanna have your baby please fill me up, maxie," he pushes you up against his chest his hand wrapping around your throat squeezing it lightly. it was more than enough for you to ride out yet another orgasm, "that's it, baby. make a mess all over my cock." he groans feeling your walls flutter around him, with a few more thrusts his cum fills you up.

your heavy pants fill the room, feeling him pull out of you after a few minutes making sure each drop of his cum filled you up he flips you over laying you down and grabbing a warm towel to clean you up, "doing okay, my darling?" he smiles down at your loopy grin.

"so good. i love you." you tell him once he finishes cleaning you up and settling in bed for a few minutes before you go and shower. "i love you more. best birthday ever." max tells you, and he meant it being the best birthday especially if you do end up pregnant.

you run your fingers along his jaw, "think you made me juno yet?" you smile sheepishly at him and you both break out into a fit of laughter, "well if that didn't, we'll just have to keep on going until you are."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

5 acts

words: 2k

warnings: soft!rafe, very fluffy, insecurity from rafe, reader is described as having curly hair, established relationship, brief nudity but very sfw (reader is topless while getting a massage but no descriptions)

5 acts of service to spark romance between you and your partner

make their morning easier: make them breakfast, or their coffee just as they like it

take care of their vehicle: get it washed, filled, and oil changed if needed. it'll feel like a weight off their shoulders

organize something meaningful for them: go through an old photo album or set up a space in the home that caters to them

pamper them after a long day: draw a bath, brush their hair, give them a massage 

set up their favorite movie night: get their favorite snacks, light some candles, and turn a simple movie night into a romantic evening

rafe frowns as he reads over the list again.

“baby!” your voice rings out, and he's quick to jump to his feet and rush down the stairs.

“oh!” you stop as he lands on the hardwood in front of you. “you came down so quickly.” you giggle. “i was just going to tell you dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

“ill get the table set up.” rafe leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving you to look at him in confusion as he walks away, a certain amount of pep in his step you're not used to seeing.

you get even more suspicious when you bring the dish into the dining room and see that rafe has a candle lit.

“is there a special occasion i forgot about?” you question as rafe pulls your chair out for you.

“nope, just treating my girl.” rafe swallows thickly, surprised and disappointed in himself that you're already noticing his change in behavior.

it all started last weekend when rafe overheard you talking to your girlfriends about love languages. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, truly, but he found himself quickly locked in when you said yours was acts of service and quality time, but that you couldn't think of any acts of service rafe has done recently.

you didn't sound that upset about it, and even immediately clarified that rafe makes up for it in other ways and you weren't even sure what he could do for you, but rafe was determined to change the tides of your relationship.

act 1

rafe shuts his alarm off quickly before looking over at you, making sure the beeping didn't wake you up as well.

he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees your eyes are still closed before carefully sliding out of bed and tiptoeing out of the room.

rafe makes it to the kitchen keeping his steps quiet as he looks around at the various cabinets. he's not sure where to start, so he begins with unloading the dishwasher and putting everything away, when he opens up a cabinet to see the waffle maker and an idea sparks.

rafe opens up the pantry, stepping in to find the mix as well as anything else he might need for the breakfast, and just like that, rafes plan sets into motion.

he makes a stack of waffles, but not before turning on the coffee machine so you can wake up to a fresh brew. he makes a good portion of eggs for you to split before checking the clock, figuring it's about time to check to see if you're awake.

rafe pours your coffee in your favorite tumbler before adding ice and syrup, smiling at himself for remembering just how you like it.

rafe is about to head out of the kitchen when he hears your footsteps coming down the stairs.

“good morning ba-”

“oh my god, im so late for my nail appointment, why didn't you wake me up?” you squeal, grabbing your purse and adjusting the outfit you threw on quickly.

“i didn-”

“i got to leave, like right now, sorry babe.” you run up to rafe and press a quick kiss to his lips, about to rush away when you realize the two plates of breakfast.

“it's okay.” rafe shakes his head. “i'll make you breakfast a different day. forgot you had a nail appointment. but here-” rafe grabs the tumbler and thrusts it into your hand. “at least take the coffee i made you.”

rafe can see the conflicting emotions going on inside your head.

“hey.” he says softly. “it's okay. go. you and i both know how ridiculous those late fees are.”

“okay.” you nod, pouting and looking back at the plates as you leave.

act 2

“do you have any plans today?” rafe asks, brushing your hair away from your face.

“nope. just hanging with you.” you smile up at him, snuggling closer to his side, not yet ready to leave the bed when rafe is keeping you so warm, occasionally pressing kisses to your face.

“im gonna go take your car to get it serviced.” rafe says. “since you don't have anything going on.”

“oh.” you hum. “okay.” you were secretly hoping you could just have a lazy day in bed with rafe, maybe even force him to watch some trashy reality tv, knowing it'll only take a couple minutes for him to get fully invested in whatever drama starts up between the couples.

“you stay in bed though.” rafe smiles at you, sliding out from under the covers, leaving you to pull the blanket tighter around yourself and inhale his fleeting scent.

rafe heads down the stairs, a pep in his step at getting this task done for you. he grabs your keys before heading out the door, taking it to the service center first for an oil change. it's not very dirty on the inside, but rafe decides he'll still vacuum the inside after taking it through the wash.

you really only use your car when rafe is gone or you have an appointment, so it doesn't get used often.

rafe finishes everything he wants to get done for you, filling up your tank before driving back home.

rafe is whistling and happy as he returns home and heads back up the stairs, and just like he expects, you're still in bed, but sat up, watching the television.

“hey baby.” your smile widens as you see him. “i missed you so much.”

“sorry, doll.” rafe changes quickly before climbing into the bed. “but i got everything done on your car.”

“thanks.” you hum. “really appreciate it.” you press your face into his chest, throwing one leg over his hips as you return to a lying position, no longer caring about what's on the tv now that you've got your boyfriend back.

“you don't have anything else you wanna get done today, do you?” you ask. “i thought we'd have all day together.”

rafe sighs as he looks at the clock, realizing just how long it took him to service your vehicle. “well, we have the rest of the day at least.”

act 3

“um, rafe?” you call out as you open up a drawer in your closet, expecting to see the tangled mess of necklaces and earrings just as you left it.

“honey?” rafe walks into your bedroom before realizing you’re in the closet.

“where’d all my jewelry go?” you ask confused.

“oh, i organized it for you.” rafe moves to the drawers, sliding open the two underneath to reveal jewelry displays and every piece neatly put away. “i also got you a display for your favorite necklaces but i wanted you to choose what ones go up there.”

“where at?” you ask, noticing the necklace rafe got you for your first anniversary in missing from the drawer.

rafe doesn’t respond with his words, taking your hand and guiding you out of the closet and into the main bedroom, where you notice the necklace stand shaped like a tree with two chains already hanging from them.

“oh my gosh, whats this?” you squeal, pulling the new necklace off the stand, admiring the diamonds that glitter back at you in the shape of an r.

“for you, baby.” rafe kisses your cheek.

“what has gotten into you?” you ask, but before rafe can worry too much about you figuring out he’s following a guide on how to treat you better, you turn and pull your hair off your neck for him to slot the necklace on.

act 4 

“oh right there!” you moan out as rafe rubs at your back, hands smoothing up and down against your skin, gently kneading into your muscles as he does.

“love pampering you baby.” rafe leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“you’re so sweet.” you smile and turn your head. “i’m gonna have to make it up to you.”

“you already treat me better than i deserve.”

you frown and turn over onto your stomach, bringing the blanket with you to keep your chest covered. “not true. you’re an amazing boyfriend.”

“thanks, doll.” rafe doesn’t want you to worry about his insecurities in this moment, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “stay there.”

you get comfortable on your back, eyes sliding shut as rafe starts some gentle music. it flows from the speakers as rafe hums along to the instrumental version of a popular song, grabbing your hairbrush from off the dresser.

you are only vaguely aware of rafes movements, when suddenly a hand is placed on the top of your head, massaging against your scalp that has you moaning out again.

you hear rafe chuckle at your reaction, the sides of your lips also quirking up, when you suddenly feel a hairbrush running through your strands.

you scrunch your face up and give it a moment, hoping rafe would stop when he suddenly brushes through a tangle, making you cry out.

“shit.” rafe drops the brush with a clatter onto the hardwood. “im sorry.”

you can hear the defeat in rafes voice and you turn over onto your stomach to face him, frowning. “baby? whats wrong?”

“i just can’t do anything right. i try to make you breakfast, you have to leave. i take your car to be serviced, and i miss out and spending time with you. i can’t even brush your hair all romantically like the guide said.”

“guide?” you question, grabbing your shirt and putting it back on as you pull rafe up to sit on the bed next to you.

“i… i read something online. about acts of service you can do for your partner. i just want to be a good boyfriend.”

you don’t mean to, but a laugh falls from your lips. “rafe, that’s ridiculous. you’re already the best boyfriend without even trying. did i say or do something to make you feel like you needed to try harder?”

“no-” rafe sighs, knowing he has to admit it. “i just heard you talking with your friend about love languages. i’m trying to make it up to you.”

“and the guide told you to brush my hair?” you scoff. “im guessing whoever wrote that did not have curls.”

“you're probably right.” rafe lets a smile come to his face.

“i love you for you, not because of the things you do for me. besides, you do enough without even trying or following some guide. you take out the trash, you stock up on my favorite treats, you get me anything i want whenever i feel the slightest bit ill.”

“so… you don’t want me to do the last thing on the guide?”

“depends what it is.” you shrug. “if it involves you leaving and doing something for me, then absolutely not. or at least you can take me with you.”

“i set up a romantic movie night in the living room.”

“that sounds much better for both of us than you brushing my hair.” you giggle.

act 5

you tuck yourself further into rafes side, smiling as your favorite scene finishes, turning your attention to rafe.

“thank you for doing all this for me.” you whisper, keeping your voice soft. “i love you so much.”

“i love you.” rafe says earnestly, ducking his head to press a kiss against the top of your head, but you’re quick to reposition so your lips can meet.

“now we have to figure out your love language so i can do things for you.” you tell rafe.

“my love language is you.” rafe says, squeezing you tightly. “my everything is you.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, anal, suggestiveness & pressuring

fem reader

Thinking about really boyfriendly boyfriends – simpy and helpful and sweet – boyfriend material perfectly cut as if custom-ordered – boxed and shipped and sent express mail from the boyfriend factory with love.

He’s interested in your hobbies and studies and is equally passionate about sharing his interests with you. He’s comfortable and playful with your family and makes a true effort to befriend your friends. He’s even outgoing at parties where he doesn’t know anyone but you instead of sulking and asking you to leave like so many past boyfriends have.

He likes sharing food, sings loudly in the car, texts you throughout the day, and calls you when he’s at the store before coming over, asking if you need or want anything. He’s open and honest and geeks over new releases – that movie trailer, that game, those sneakers, that album, that car, and all that other boy stuff – and yet never fails to tell you how beautiful you are every time he sees you.

And he likes taking you on dates – cinema, arcade, roller rink, amusement park, road trips, picnics, beach days – or simply hanging out at his or your place – making food, binging a series in bed, kissing and dry-humping…

He’s just, all in all, everything you could’ve ever wished for. Perfect in every way.

Only… there hasn’t been a single time he’s had you in bed where he hasn’t all but begged to fuck your ass…

He’s literally crying for it while moaning, “Please~ lemme put it in~ just wanna try it once, please, baby~” with his hands squeezing your butt over your shorts and his head under your shirt, kissing and sucking your tits with the prayers on his lips as he humps his tented crotch against your clothed cunt – making your panties hot and damp. 

You squeeze your eyes shut with a suppressed whine.

He keeps pleading, “I’ll be gentle~ just the tip~ I’ll go so slow~”

His fingers dig into the crevice of your cheeks, wedging your shorts and undies through your slit. Everything clenches from the friction.

Your face is heated, biting your lip with cinched brows. You knew he’d ask for it again today – he never doesn’t. Even though he’ll get pussy-drunk and pound your poor womb in a tight mating press the second he’s made you cum on his fingers. 

He slurps your nipple, still begging, “Please, baby, please~ it’ll feel so good~ so-so-so good~”

You’d been deliberating giving in to his incessant proposals for a little while. He’d been so unrelenting you were starting to feel bad denying him for so long.

Not like past boyfriends hadn’t been equally relentless in the ask.

But this one was different… unlike the others… you really like him. 

You think you might be in love with him, even though it’s a little early to say.

Still… since he’s so perfect… you want to do your best to be perfect for him, too.

So you’d made yourself ready for it this time – done preparations in the shower. 

But… you pout… it was all so embarrassing, and your poor mind was riddled with doubts as though you were a virgin all over again. 

What if something… gross happens? What if it hurts so bad you have to stop? Will it disappoint him? What if you hate it but go through with it anyway, only for him to keep asking? What if you have to break up because you won’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again?

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” His voice slips through the inner turmoil.

He’d resurfaced from beneath your shirt on account of your silence, only to see you’d covered your face in both hands. He gently peels them away – revealing your eyes and the shy way you nibble your lip.

“I’m sorry…” He apologizes then. “I’ll stop asking-” 

“No!” You blurt. To his surprise – staring at you with those big puppy-dog eyes you just couldn’t handle seeing look so disheartened. “I mean…” 

You look away, cheeks burning – voice just barely above a whisper. 

“If you really want to… I’m fine with it…”

He seemed to perk up at that. If he’d had a tail, you know it would be wagging behind him. 

His chest swelled, eyes big and unblinking, swallowing thickly – breaths already thick with containment. 

He leans in close and nose-kisses you, brushing your lips with heated words, “Really? You’ll let me?”

You made a small sound, too humiliated to say or do much more than nod your head in confirmation.

He seemed to shudder, closing the space between you, kissing your lips softly – he tasted like static – buzzing with restricted urgency. Parting with a soft-spoken yet strained, “Thank you.”

Both his hands messaged your waist – fiddled with the band to your shorts as though he couldn’t wait to drag them down your thighs and free you.

Still speaking against your lips, “Can you turn around on your knees for me?”

Everything was burning – from the tips of your ears to your lips and deep down in your stomach where something equally hungry and anxious was preparing for something.

He moved back to allow you to crawl into position, taking a pillow and placing it underneath you – patting it while telling you to “Lie down.” 

You did like suggested, lying with your face and chest against the soft plume, sinking into it with your back in a slope and your ass presented. Heart pounding in your head, loud and hot, as he took position behind you – placing his hand back on your hips.

He hooked his fingers into the band of your shorts again, pulling them back over the fat of your haunches, then dragged them down slowly until they pooled around your knees. You felt the damp heat of his breath immediately hit the peach fuzz on the small of your back – seeping through the cotton of your panties – making your belly brew with butterflies. 

“Just relax, okay? Tell me to stop if I go too far.” He said, sensing how you quaked as he placed both palms on your globes – denting the plump flesh with greedy fingers.

It’s not like you haven’t fucked in this position before – it’s just that you knew this time was going to be different. You felt so exposed.

He fingered the frill of your panties and started peeling them off – baring your naked skin and the pretty dip between your cheeks. 

You yelped. His mouth was on you before he’d even finished undressing you – placing a sloppy half-bite half-kiss on your upper ass before proceeding to slurp the crack.

You whimpered – flustered and flushed as the heat of his tongue laid wet trails down through the valley until his lips met with your rim. You shuffled your thighs and balled the pillow in small fists as he groaned into you. Shamelessly squeezing your fat with his hands, spreading the cheeks to let him at your little puckered hole.

Your eyes screwed shut while you hid your face in the pillow beneath you – muffling all uneasy sounds as he canted his mouth against your ass. Chin rutting into your puffy cunt while bobbing his jaw, lipping at your taint and rim – nose nuzzled between your cheeks – mouth fully closed around you – moaning at the feel of it pulsing on the tip of his tongue as he runs it over the tight scrunch again and again.

Your shoulders brace as he tries and screw the wet muscle inside. You tense up way too tight for it to happen.

He smacks off with a raunchy sigh. Your heart is in your throat. 

Slick from your ignored cunt feels sticky on your swelled pussy-lips – hot and twitching in the cool air.

He pops the cap of the little bottle of lube the two of you always keep on hand. You flinch when his slick fingers come back to rub your hole. He gives it slow and soothing circles before easing the tip inside. Filling you up only to the first joint, waiting for you to relax and loosen before sinking the rest inside. 

He hums at the display, groaning, “Fuuh-ck~” Sliding the digit in knuckle-deep before slipping it out to the tip again – repeating the motion while feeling your muscles ripple around it. “You’re so cute, baby~ so pretty~”

He bows and places a chaste kiss on your buttcheek, laying his face on it like a pillow – his eyes half-mast while looking at his finger disappear inside you.

He works another in with the first, shuffling them – messaging the tightness, slowly training it to stretch. His hot breath fans over your wet skin, making you go goosefleshed.

“Fuck, baby – so pretty with my fingers inside yah~” He hums, almost in a whine while curling them inside you. “So fucking hot how you swallow and squeeze on ‘em like that~”

He pulls himself up again, tugging on his belt with one hand – keeping on fingering you with the other. 

His pants drop to the floor a moment later, and he lifts his neglected cock out of the sticky mess he’d made in his boxers – throbbingly fat and hard, pulsing in his fist and leaking pre, another pearl each time he rubs over the bulge of his tip.

He looks at your hole – eyes misty. You seem to have loosened up a bit – enough for him to part his fingers.

He pulls them both out with a schlick. “I think you’re ready…” His voice is sticky – stuck to his throat. “I’m gonna try ‘n put it in.”

Your hands curl into the pillow as you nod your head – eyes still squeezed shut. It hadn't felt too bad so far – just weird. Embarrassing and… clinical. A bit like a doctor’s visit. But you knew that would all change now.

His hands glide across your back, catching your crop top in balled fists, stretching it as his tip works on stretching out your opening – nudging against it, coaxing it into accepting the head.

“Fuh- oh fuck~” He moans, lost to the sight and feel of your butt seizing around him – closing up around his tip. 

You look so fucking perfect like that – face-down and kneeling with your ass pressed back against him – giving him your second virginity. 

His eyes flitter across the slope of your spine – looking over your creamy skin, looking so pretty, all glossy with dew, until he reaches your face. Your brows are pinched together, gnawing on your bottom lip, eyes shut tightly.

“Are you okay?” He pants.

You nod your head – curt and rushed.

He suppresses a sound – feeling even more heated. You’re so perfect, so good to him – the best girlfriend he could have ever asked for. Trusting him like this, letting him do this even when you’re so nervous about it. You must really love him.

He’s nearly crying, holding onto your hips as he fucks you with just the tip – loosening the rim up and going just a little deeper for every shallow thrust. He nearly barrels over, standing there with his back hunched – bowing his head, looking at where the two of you connect while sweat drips from his weighted bangs.

“I love you, too.” He confesses out of the blue, and you blink, looking back at him – seeing his mouth parted with blissful moans, his eyes wet, and brows softly curled. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect fo’me – so good.” 

He loves you so much he can barely take the blossoming in his chest, feeling like he wants to eat you up and swallow you whole. His girl – who laughs at all his silly jokes and holds his hand everywhere you go and doesn’t tease him when he yelps and holds you close during horror movies. His perfect perky girlfriend – who lets him fuck you raw and cum inside, and now… even letting him fuck your tight round ass for the very first time.

He's almost all the way in now – just a few more thrusts, and you’ll have him swallowed down to the base with his balls pressed firmly against the puffy lips of your wet pussy.

“Fuh-uuck-” He breathes out again, gripping your hips tight as he bottoms out. 

He nearly cums right then, having to bite his lip to hold back – savoring how you ripple and squeeze him – so tight and firm.

You’re such a good girl taking him so well and so deep, lying so sweetly beneath him with your ass presented – letting him nestle his entire length inside you. Curling your toes all cutely as you adjust with only pretty girly mews leaving you.

You didn’t expect him to mount you. 

But he does. Now standing with his feet in the bed, squatting over you with his cock sinking balls deep in your ass. Freshly broken-in, it’s tight and firm and twitchy as though it’s confused as to why there's a big fat cock stretching it out. 

He can’t help but smile, perched on top of you – hands still hooked upon your hips for balance while he leans forward, settling even deeper. 

You moan, and it nearly drives him wild. Barely holding himself together as he pulls out – wishing he had something to bite into instead of his lip as he focuses on the way your firm walls clench on him, clinging to his shaft so tightly it’s hard pulling out despite the wetness – it’s so good he’s losing it. 

He’s taking his perfect girlfriend in her perfect ass. And it feels so fucking good his hands leave their grip on your hips as he slugs forward, bending over you until his chest presses into your back, and his head rests on top of yours, cheek to cheek – slinging both arms around you, putting you in a headlock – leaving you to do nothing else but pant, squished between his biceps and his cock kisses your guts. 

“Can’t believe I'm fucking your little ass, baby.” He rants breathlessly. “It's so tight and good, gripping me so fuckin’ hard.” Huffing and groaning with his back hunched as he curves into your butt as deep as he can – stuffing into you from behind slowly and carefully as though he’s savoring every single flutter of you hugging him.

He’s barely even pulling out – kneading as far as his cock can reach instead – cock-warming himself inside you.

“Fuck, baby – I can cum inside, right?” He whimpers against you, kissing the corner of your mouth with his tongue out.

You’re so squished beneath him you can only just wheeze out the word. “O-okay-”

“Oh- fuck, I love you.” He cries when he blows, squeezing you so tight you’re choking as he pumps pulse after pulse of thick hot cum deep inside you. “I love you, I love you- love you- love you so much- so fuckin’ much-”

And you don’t know if it’s the confession, the headlock, or the cum being pumped up your guts – but your clit’s pulsing and your cunt’s twitching even though it’s around nothing, gushing down your shaking thighs as your butt pushes itself flush against your boyfriend’s cock, clenching hard around it and milking him free of every drop.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Touya-Dabi, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Yuji, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins ♡ AOT – Armin ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Sakura, Nirei, Umemiya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[biolumien]

Tired and sleepy reader who gets affectionate 10x more than usual with soushiro...... fluff

notes: short and cute... soft and sweet... im very sleepy all the time. this speaks to me. obligatory soundtrack for this lil' thing is this album.

nights like these

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings apply, they're just cute. word count: 808

“it’s 3 AM,” hoshina whispers, leaning close to your face. “you know that, right?” 

it’s been an ever-increasing habit of yours to call hoshina over right before you went to bed—you’d frequently call him over in the middle of the night, to increasingly later and later hours–and yet he’d show up each time, without fail. you’d texted him in the middle of the night, holding your phone close to your face, rubbing at your eye as you blearily texted for him to come over.

“mm,” you whine sleepily, reaching out to touch his face, letting your thumbs brush across his cheeks.. “hoshinaa.”

“yes?” hoshina’s voice was soft as he rested his hands on the bed, letting himself lean into your touches. as your thumbs brushed across the corners of his lips, you could feel the way his smile quirked upwards into your touch. one of his fangs poked out a little bit, teasingly biting the pad of your thumb. you whine, ever so softly, and he laughs fondly, pressing his face closer to yours. “what is it?” “stay,” you mumble. “don’t want you to go. stay here.”

“mm.” hoshina’s hands reached up to wrap around your wrists, his thumb brushing the back of your hands. “greedy. i still have things to do, you know.”

“no you don’t,” you protest, brushing your face against his. you can feel the way he shivers against your skin,  “‘m asking you to sleep with me, soshiro, what could be more important?”

“mm…” hoshina’s voice turns into a low drawl–you can feel the way his voice vibrates in his chest. “just don’t wanna get caught. the rest of the third division’s never gonna let this go if they find me…” though as he says this, he’s gently pushing at you ever so slightly, nudging you deeper into your bed, trying to make room for him. “c’mon, darling dearest. move a little bit for me.”

you shift backwards a little, yawning a bit as hoshina takes off his jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him as he pulls up your covers, slotting himself neatly beside you. you yawn again, pressing your face into his collarbone as soon as he’s settled. for how lithe he is, his chest is hard, too–firm and tensed with muscle. you can feel the way his heart beats, slow and steady. 

he hums, wrapping one of his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“you’re so needy, y’know?” hoshina teases, running a hand through your hair. “what am i gonna do with you?”

“mmh,” you kiss his neck, and his skin is warm. he smells faintly of something sweet and clean, and he chuckles.

“hey, i’m talkin’ to you…” he yawns a bit, his body tensing a little bit as he entangles his legs with yours, leaning forward to bury his face in the nape of your neck. “mm…”

“how was work today?” you ask, gently touching at the nape of his neck. he feels warm, a tactile weight beneath your hands, and you can’t help but feel the desperate desire to swallow him fully, fully entangling yourself in him–till you wouldn’t be able to tell where you start and where he ends. 

“mm. fine. boring,” hoshina says. “filin’ paperwork keeps me up all night. needed t’write up a report. i’d much rather be out there fightin’.” he presses a kiss to your neck as well, almost biting down against your skin. you shudder, entangling your hands in his hair. “how about you?”

“boring,” you respond. you tilt hoshina’s head up slightly, blinking up at him. his scarlet eyes were ever-so-slightly narrowed with sleep, his expression intense even though his body belied his weariness, how exhausted he really was. but his face is so fond–a fondness that makes your throat squeeze, almost. you lean up to slot your lips together, and he hums ever so slightly, moving his lips against yours sleepily.

“this is the highlight of my day,” you murmur against his lips, and he chuckles.

“sap,” he teases. 

“mm. shut it, you. you’re the one in my bed right now,” you mumble, pressing closer to him.

“only after you asked,” hoshina says, but his hand around you is firm, protective–possibly even a little possessive as it moves to the small of your back. 

“negotiation’s one of my best traits,” you tease.

“it is,” hoshina says, ever so fondly. his hand reaches up to brush your hair from your face. “n’you’re lucky i love you, and you’re cute when you ask.”

you hum, leaning into his touch, kissing his palm. 

“i’m sleepy,” you complain, a pout coming across your lips.

“then sleep,” hoshina says, kissing you again on the lips. “i’ll be here.”

“mhm,” you mumble, letting your eyes fall shut as you tuck yourself against hoshina, feeling the warm embrace of sleep take you into its arms.

[no-144444]

the break up of the century - (l.norris, no 4)

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pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! singer! reader

summary: you and lando break up on horrible terms, can a new album and a special performance bring you back together? is that even what you two want?

7.6k + words, brief fade-to-black smut, fluff, mainly angst :)

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You weren’t sure how it happened, one moment you were on stage, the next, you were crying in your dressing room, hating every single thing about your life. Funny how one moment leads into the next, right? 

Y/n Y/l/n. Household name at the age of 19. Now, 23. Fans impatiently awaiting your next album, the album you hated, and now on a world tour that is sucking the life from your body. 

Sounds like you have it all. 

The money, the fame, the clothes, the boys, the voice. It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of. And now it means nothing, because you have it. And it’s nowhere near as good as you wanted it to be.

You’d always been told of the horror stories of fame taking more than it gave, and you always brushed it off with a smile and a ‘that’ll never happen to me’. Low and behold, you’ve had 4 stalkers in 2 years, 3 lawsuits against you from old record companies that dropped you, 2 grammys, and 1 ridiculously public break-up with he-who-shall-not-be-named. 

Having it all really means having too much to think about, and too much to deal with. You would’ve preferred to just go to university like all your friends. Be young. Make mistakes. But those were luxuries you took for granted, and now you’re paying the price. 

“Y/n?” Sasha, your manager called from outside. “We have the meet and greet.”

And then there was your fans. They were great, obviously, but they were also very hyper teenagers and young adults that paid a lot of money to see you, and it made you feel even worse about not being 100%. At least you’d cut ticket prices down by 50% in meetings, meaning they were much cheaper than any other artist at the moment. At least you could do that for your fans. 

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your dress. 

“Do you need your makeup touched up?”

“Yes,” you answered, voice hoarse. “How many more shows?” 

“This was your 97th. You have 53 left.”

“Fuck!” You groaned. “Fuck this.”

“You have the British Gran Prix tomorrow, you have to make an appearance, alright? I’m sending Maria in to fix your makeup,” Sasha was trying to pity you, but she also had a job to do, which you understood. 

“Thanks Sash,” you sighed as Maria came in. 

“Hey babe,” she smiled softly, sympathy and pity shown in her eyes. 

“Hi,” you sniffled, wiping your last tear away. 

“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” She started unpacking her bag with all your makeup as you nodded, turning to face her. “You’re amazing. You were so pretty tonight.”

You somehow didn’t scoff in her face. “Thanks.”

“I know you don’t believe me,” she sighed. “I can’t even understand why. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You hiccupped, the tears threatening to pour again as you thought about him. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Stop thinking about him. You told yourself. He’s in the past.

But he wasn’t in the past, how could he be when he was always on your fucking feed with his new girlfriend. Allison and Lando, what a beautiful couple. More like a bunch of crap. They weren’t real, everyone knew it was just pr, especially considering that she was promoting her new racing movie. You had no idea why they even tried to keep up the charade. They didn’t even look good together. 

Alas, they were together, and you weren’t anymore. 

And you were going to be reminded of it every single second of the next day. 

----------------

You pressed your entry card to the barrier and walked through as cameras flashed and you smiled one of your best fake smiles.

“Y/n!” Oscar smiled, walking up and hugging you. You knew everyone, and you started to feel embarrassed about everything. This was his workplace, and you had to be here to do press and sing a song you didn’t want to sing.

Bullshit.

“Hey Osc,” you smiled, hugging him back. 

“You look so wonderful today,” he smiled, taking your hand instead. He led you to the McLaren paddock as you two chatted about tour and races. You asked about Miami, and Oscar answered. “It was the best day of his life- his words!” 

“Meeting you was the best day of my life. That’ll never change.”

Oh. I guess it changed. 

“How's the tour? It looks amazing!” He cheered as you two entered the paddock. Mechanics and engineers greeting and hugging you as you went through and lied about how ‘amazing’ the tour is. 

“Y/n!” Zak cheered. “My favourite girl!”

He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and you hugged back. It felt good to be back, and to still have so many people still like you. “Hi Zak.”

“I missed you so much! Please tell me that awful Allison girl is gone and you and Lan are back? She’s driving me crazy,” he scoffed.

“No, I’m just here to do some press with Ferrari,” you chuckled. “But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see my favourite CEO.”

He sighed but nodded, knowing that Lando had the board cut you off the ‘influencer list’ when you two broke up. “Well, once you know that you’re my favourite.”

“You’re my favourite too,” you smiled. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Lips are sealed,” he smiled and moved on, going about his various duties. For a moment you looked around the paddock you had known so well and felt your heart ache a little. You loved Lando, you still loved Lando. You loved McLaren, and you loved the people here, yet you didn’t get to see them anymore because of the stupid fucking tour. This tour was ruining your life. You didn’t talk to family, or friends, you and Lando had broken up, you weren’t eating or sleeping, you always felt sick, you were rarely allowed to speak during the day so you could ‘conserve’ your voice for shows. 

But the worst part was that nobody noticed. 

“He's right y’know,” Oscar  smiled. “We all miss you. Even Lando.”

“Lando is with Allison. He has no reason to miss me.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “All they do is fight.”

“So? That’s what Lando and I did for weeks.”

“But it was different. You two were in a bad situation, but you loved each other, so the fights meant something. Allison and Lan are just wrong for each other, they’re fighting to fight.”

You groaned, sitting on the bench and resting your head in your hands. “When did you become a philosopher?”

Oscar laughed, and placed a hand on your back. “I’ve always been this philosophical, you were just too busy to notice.” 

“Shut up,” you chuckled, pushing him off. 

“All I’m saying is that you should talk to him, that’s all,” he shrugged, walking away from you and further into the paddock. 

“Y/n.”

Your head snapped up, so hard it hurt. There he was. Lando. For the first time in months. With Allison. And a dog.

Oh. 

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up. It was a puppy, a jack-russell terrier, the kind you’d always wanted. The kind like your childhood dog. Great, now they stole your dog breed. “Nice to see you.”

“I didn’t know you would be here,” he said bluntly. “What are you doing here?”

“Press for Ferrari. Oscar just… brought me in to say hi to everyone. So, hi. And now I’ll take my leave,” you smiled, then started to try and walk off. But Allison clearly had other plans, since she stuck out her hand for a ‘handshake’ that conveniently stopped you from walking off. 

“Allison,” she smirked. “And this is Mila.”

You stared blankly at Lando for a moment. Seriously? He’d taken the dog breed and what you’d agreed to be the name of your first child? Give me a break. 

“Y/n,” you shook her hand. “And I have to go, bye and good luck today.”

Thank god Ferrari was on the other side of the fucking track. 

“Y/n!” Charles cheered, hugging you close. You’d been getting closer with Charles since your split with Lando and his split with his ex had happened within a week of each other. “How are you?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, tired.”

“I have been seeing the tour, it looks great!” he smiled, pulling back. 

“Thanks Charles, it was amazing to see you, but I better go. I have to-”

“Sing the new song? Yes! I can't wait,” he cheered. You mustered up a small smile, and left him alone. 

----------------

Sasha came and found you in the bathroom an hour later. “Y/n?” She was frantic, and stressed, so you just decided to give up and show yourself. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s time, come on,” she sighed. “I know this is hard-”

“How could you know it’s fucking hard? My entire life is in shambles and I’m supposed to be happy about it because I’m a ‘superstar’ what the fuck does that even mean? My boyfriend broke up with me because of this tour, and I thought I was going to marry him. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t that fucking crazy? And the worst part is, that I can’t even stop if I want to. I’m not allowed to stop. Sasha, how could you ever understand how hard this is for me? I’m 22. I should be in college, having fun. But instead I’m about to sing a song I don’t like or care about, in my ex-boyfriends workplace. Does that sound like fun to you, Sasha?” 

Her face was blank, stoic, unmoving. “Let’s go, you have soundcheck.”

You just followed her. Sasha was good at that, good at making you feel small, making you feel like a nuisance. The stage was big, bigger than most of your stadiums, but you didn’t care. You just had to get through it. 

“Have you eaten?”

“Feel sick,” you replied. “No thanks.”

Sasha sighed. “You’re going to faint one day.”

“Let’s hope I never wake up,” you replied dryly. Sasha scoffed and walked on, showing you the layout of the stage. You followed and asked questions, getting into ‘work mode’, and warming up your voice as you went along. A small crowd of the driver’s was gathering, even Lando was standing there, front row, just like he used to. 

You wanted to punch him, in all honesty. How could someone do that? He had no fucking right to stand there and watch you sing. He should be with Allison. 

“Start when you’re ready,” Sasha called and you nodded. 

The music started, and you were off. When the music started, you became someone else. You were moving around, laughing with your band, smiling. It was nice. Even if you hated the tour, you felt free on stage. Even if the song was sad. 

‘Champagne problems’, you’d written it right after your break up with Lando, it was new, and it had just been released. It had become the top of the charts in 15 countries. It would be on your next album, 

‘What if it doesn’t get easier like everybody says?’, and it was your most raw album. It was clearly all about your break up with Lando, there was no denying that. 

The song ended and the entire track clapped. You stopped moving when you spotted Lando’s parents, and you realised very quickly that you had to get out of there. 

You ran to the Ferrari hospitality, did some promos for your next album with them, and suddenly it was time to sing for real. The stands were full, the microphone was on, and the spotlight was on you. 

“Hi everyone,” you smiled, and the crowd erupted in cheering. “How are we feeling today?”

You had worn a short red dress, for Ferrari, and it was sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. Everyone could see how beautiful you looked. Your hair perfectly styled, your makeup flawless, your beautiful face. 

Lando was entranced. 

You started singing and you sounded like an angel, truely. Lando had always thought you sounded otherworldly. He knew it was about him. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he missed you. He knew it was too late, and that was the worst part. 

“Thank you so much for coming out and listening to my dumb sad song,” you chuckled as the crowd cheered. “But I have something else for you,” you were cut off by excited fans. I have something just a little bit happier, it’s called ‘Lover’. Please enjoy!”

Lando watched you as you danced around the stage, and he felt something dark growing in his stomach. You weren’t talking about him. It was someone new. You were seeing someone new. 

You couldn’t be seeing someone new, you’d been in a new city every few days. You couldn’t make it work with him, you were never on your phone, so it couldn’t be online. How did this happen?

You finished your song, and you left the stage. You fell into a chair and passed out. Maybe not eating was a bad idea? Probably. 

“Y/n,” Sasha shook you awake. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“I feel like shit-”

“We all do. Let’s go.”

And you followed. Because you had to. What else were you supposed to do but follow? Was this your life now? Taking orders and following them. 

“Now, you have to be nice to everyone, even Lando and Allison, alright?” she turned to you, stopping in front of the door. 

“I really don’t feel well,” you tried to protest. “Can I grab something to eat first?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be 15 minutes, you’ll survive,” she sighed, opened the door, and pushed you into the room.

The drivers and their partners all cheered, happy to see you back in the paddock. 

“Y/n! I missed you so much!” Carmen immediately pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you too,” you smiled, even if it was forced. You needed to sit down, you needed a drink, and you needed to be alone. 

“Some pretty amazing songs!” George cheered, patting you on the back. 

“Thanks George,” you smiled. Soon you were all sitting on the various couches and chatting, even if you didn’t speak. Lando’s eyes were glued to his hands as Allison’s eyes were glued to you. She was practically sitting on him, on the verge of straddling him if you looked in their direction again. She didn’t know it, but you were looking at the door behind them, wondering when you’d be called. It had surpassed the 15 minute mark, and you felt yourself getting more and more faint as time went on. 

“Y/n?” Allison cut across Daniel chatting to you about your latest show in Manchester, remembering a story of the two of you when you were there, and telling it to the group. “How’s the tour going?”

You cleared your throat. “Well, thanks,” you smiled shyly. 

“So the rumours that you haven’t been performing to your full capabilities aren't true? Like I’ve heard you’ve been lip syncing,” she smirked as the rest of the drivers and wags just looked at her with disgust. Oscar rolled his eyes. He’d been sick of her for weeks, and he was usually quite good with people he didn’t like, but he hated her. So did Lily. 

You gulped. “I don’t lip sync, but obviously 97 shows in 113 days is quite a lot for my voice, so I don’t always sing my super vocally- challenging songs every night or else I’d have to go on vocal rest all the time,” you explained, feeling the change in energy in the room. 

“And that would just be horrible, right guys?” She turned to Lando with a smirk on her face, but he was just looking down, embarrassed by her. “I’m a huge fan of your music, how much of it is about Lando?-”

“What the fuck?” George stood up with Carmen by his side. “Allison, what is your problem with her?”

“It’s just a question!” Allison defended as Lando got up and left. She looked a lot less imposing with Lando gone. “He’s my boyfriend now!”

“Yeah, we wish he wasn’t,” Lewis said under his breath.

“Guys, it’s fine,” you just wanted to leave. “Some of my songs are, because I like to put my feelings into music, right? But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself. Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well.”

With that, you got up and left. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if Sasha screamed at you, you didn’t care if they all came running after you. 

It was done. You and Lando were over. Was it your choice? No. Was it a choice you had to deal with? Yes. His choice. Yet, everyone had looked to you for answers. ‘What happened?’ ‘Was it going downhill?’ or your personal favourite; ‘Did he get bored?’.

You didn’t know. All you knew was that one moment, you were with him, and the next you weren’t. 

You ran to your dressing room and lay down, eating some random snacks you found. You felt better after eating, you felt-

Knock knock. 

“Come in!” You called, not caring much about who it was.

“Hi,” Lando’s voice was small and quiet. 

You sat up, staring at him. 

“Beautiful songs,” he smiled softly. “Missed hearing you sing.”

You nodded. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks,” he sighed. “I'm sorry about Allison, she’s the fucking worst.” 

You chuckled softly. “I’m sorry you’re dating her.”

He cracked a soft smile, then it fell. “Who’s the new lucky guy for you?” He watched as your face fell. 

“No… no new guy, just an old one I wrote back at the start of… us…” you trailed off. 

His heart was shattering, watching you be treated like this. Watching from afar as you lost your mind, lost your life, over a fucking tour. He saw the soulless look in your eyes, the dropped weight, the dampened smiles, all of it. He was shocked that other people couldn’t see it too. He’d regretted breaking up with you since the moment he did it. He was haunted by the way you begged him to stay, and he questioned how he’d ever said no to you. How was he so blind-sighted? How did he not see how much pressure you were under? How did he not see that he was what was keeping you above ground? 

“Oh,” he breathed out. 

You took a deep breath. “I’m releasing an album soon, and a lot of the songs are about our relationship,” you explained hesitantly. “I wanted to offer you a chance to listen to it before it goes out, just as a… heads-up? In case you’re worried about what’s on it.”

God, punching him square in the face would hurt less than watching you feel awkward around him. He cleared his throat. “Oh umm…yeah. I’d like that. Thank you.”

You nodded and got up, taking a cd out of your backpack. “Here you go. Sorry again, about… everything.” 

“I’m sorry too,” he nodded. “So, are you leaving now or…?”

“No, I’m holding the chequered flag today, so I’ll be up at race control,” you explained, trying to look anywhere other than him. “And I’m handing off the 1st place trophy.”

“Maybe I’ll be first to see you,” he chuckled. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. 

“The tour looks… awful. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he spoke after a minute’s silence. 

You just shrugged. “Not your fault,” you lied. 

He knew this was when he was meant to leave, but he wasn’t sure when you two would be in the same room again. He didn’t know when he’d see you again, so he took a moment to fully take you in. “You were really incredible today. You sounded like an-”

“Angel? Thanks Lando, see you soon,” you nodded, finishing the compliment you always used to get from him. He nodded and left, realising he had no more time. 

When the door closed you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. How could he do that? How could he stand there and be nice to you, after what he said that night? After what he fucking put you through?

----------------

Weeks of complaining from him, blaming you for his performance in races, telling you that you needed to be there for him, not calling you back, not texting back, not listening when you told him about how awful everything was going. 

“I’m sorry Lan, I know how hard this is. It’s hard for me too-”

“How the fuck can you say that? You’re the one who choose to do this, you fucking decided to tear us apart! This is all your fault, and you’re telling me it’s ‘hard’ for you. What is hard for you? Spending all your time with adoring fans? Being on stage and living your dreams? Being away from me?”

“Lan, you know better than anyone that I didn’t want this tour to happen,” you cried. Even then, even 48 shows in, you were being driven crazy. You were exhausted, you missed home, and you missed Lando. “I had no choice-”

“You had every fucking choice! And don’t give me that fucking bullshit about your label forcing you, we both know that’s a fucking lie!” he shouted. You hated it when he shouted, when anyone shouted. He had no fucking right to speak to you like that. You didn’t want this to happen, you had no say, you just had a contract and an incompetent lawyer to thank.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” you shrugged, your voice breaking. “I love you, and I miss you. We can make this work Lan, I just need time to figure it out, alright? I just need time-”

“Yeah? Well I’ve given you all the time I have to give. We’re done, I bet I could find a million girls just like you, girls who would actually take my feelings into account before she made huge life decisions!” he scoffed.

“Lando, please don’t do this. I-I don’t know what- I- Lan please, I need you,” you pleaded. “I’m trying my best I swear-”

“Your best isn’t good enough.”

And he hung up.

----------------

The fallout of your relationship didn’t exactly go great either. A day later your feed was flooded with pictures of Lando out with someone else. One day later. 

What the fuck? Didn’t he care? Didn’t he love you?

Well, apparently not. 

----------------

Lando knew he wouldn’t see you again for months. This was his only fucking chance to speak to you, to see you, and instead, he stayed in his driver’s room listening to the heart-wrentching songs you’d written about him. God, if he thought ‘champagne problems’ was devastating, ‘cowboy like me’ was worse. It was a long album, almost 2 hours long. It spanned your entire relationship, starting out, your first date, your grammy win, his podiums, the hate you two got, the start of the fighting, the end of the relationship, and the after. It was awful reliving it from your perspective, especially since you had tried to tell him, and every time he’d pick a fight. 

“Lando?” Oscar’s voice came from outside his door. “Allison’s looking for you.”

“Tell her to piss off!”

“You can do that, mate,” he scoffed and walked off, into his own driver’s room. 

“Lan?” Her voice rang out, and he wanted to scream. He had put himself in this position, he knew it,  but it was still difficult to fully self-actualise his own shortcomings. 

“What?” he groaned, opening the door. 

“The other girls are excluding me,” she pouted. 

“I wonder why,” Lando rolled his eyes. “They love Y/n.”

Her face fell into a frown. “But you love me, so they should love me. They keep going off to find her and talk to her, and any time I try to tell them that I’m uncomfortable around her, they tell me not to come.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he sighed. 

“Talk to their boyfriends, ask them to include me!”

“Babe, I have a fucking race today, please leave me alone,” he sighed. He pushed past her to walk to the paddock, knowing he just had to keep his head down and race today, he just had to do the one thing he was good at. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?” 

“I don’t know,” he grunted, and moved on. The garage was somehow too loud yet not loud enough to drown out the negative thoughts in his head. Recent months had been difficult. Races were taking more and more out of him, he was lonely, and if he wasn’t training or racing, he was looking at old photos of you or watching the tour. He could see how you deflated as you left the stage, how upset you looked going on stage. It was all a terrible reminder of how selfish he’d been. How hadn’t he seen it? Why didn’t he listen? 

He remembered telling Max what had happened. He’d gotten so angry, begging him to call you back and apologise. He’d been so blindsighted, he wouldn’t listen to Max. Why was Max always right?

“You good?” Oscar asked, a hand on his shoulder to drag him out of his thousand-yard stare. 

Lando sighed. “Good,” he lied, and it wasn’t convincing. Everyone knew what you were to him. You grounded him, you knew him, every single part of him. You loved him. “You?”

“Good. Y/n’s set was great earlier,” he offered a small smile. “At least you have a good break-up album, right?”

Lando cracked a small smile. Oscar was good at that, making him laugh when he was down. “Yeah, it feels great when it’s about you.”

Oscar chuckled. “Story for the grandkids,” he shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.”

Lando nodded. 

“Oh yeah,” Oscar added. “When you left, Allison asked Y/n what songs were about you, so just… expect that conversation with her, I guess? I’m not entirely sure what’ll happen-”

“What did Y/n say?”

Oscar swallowed. “Something like; ‘some of my songs are, ‘cause I like to put my emotions into music. But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself’.”

Lando nodded, and could tell by the look on Oscar’s face that he was holding something back. “That’s it?”

“‘Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well’,” Oscar finished. “Then she left.”

Lando nodded as the weight on his chest got heavier. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course,” Oscar offered a pity-smile and walked off to his side of the garage. 

Lando was always a person to be stuck inside his own head. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. He didn’t know how to talk about them. Yet, you always knew how to get him to talk. You always had the right solution, the right thing to say, the right face to make. He was in awe of you, so effortlessly perfect. 

He remembered back to Greece, back in the off-season, before the tour, before the season started. Before he fucked everything up. 

----------------

You smiled as he pulled you closer. The air was anything but cold, and the water was still. There you two sat, sitting on the bow of the as the sun set. The clear water beneath the yacht you’d been on for the past few days was calm and steady, lulling you both into an unmistakable tiredness. Yte, Lando wanted to stay up, wanting to soak up as much time with you as he could. He was going to miss you so much this season. You hadn’t ever been to every race in a season, you were a busy person, he understood that. He was a busy person too. But you’d go to as many races as possible. Now, ‘as many races as possible’ means about 4. Stupid tour. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, your eyes closed as you soaked in the moment. You leant against his chest as you lay in his arms, your favourite place to be. 

“How much I’ll miss you this year,” he admitted. There was never any point in lying to you, you always knew. 

You pressed a kiss to his arm. “I’ll miss you too.”

You were straight forward with things, he loved that. It was a bad situation. You were off to a tour you didn’t want to do, and he was off to another season. 

“I love you,” he confessed. He said it a lot, but it always felt special. He made you feel special. You made him feel special.

“I love you,” you opened your eyes, a smile on your lips. You spoke again after a few moments of silence. “You’re going to win a race this season, I can tell.”

He chuckled. “Once I get back home to you, I don’t care if I win.”

You laughed. “Sure, we all believe you.”

He smiled. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You looked at him for a moment, that perfect, soft smile on your face. “Ditto,” you laughed as he did too. Your laugh was melodic, his favourite sound. 

“Who says ‘ditto’ to that?!” he laughed.

“I do,” you chuckled. 

You two locked eyes for a moment, then he leant down and pressed his lips to yours, soft and sweet. 

The perfect night. 

----------------

He caught a glance of your red dress walking into the garage. 

“Y/n!” The engineers cheered. He heard your laughter. 

The room was a collection of cheers and conversation, and he wanted more than anything to be able to walk over to you and hold you, and kiss you, and tell everyone to leave you alone because you were his girlfriend, not theirs. 

You walked in with a smile on your face. That smile dropped in half a second. Everyone was talking, everyone was patting you on the back, everyone was looking at you. You caught a glance of Lando and immediately felt the pit in your stomach grow. Everyone knew everything, everyone looked at you. Everyone blamed you. Oscar wrapped his arm around you and walked you through the garage as he saw you getting overwhelmed. He’d learnt the signs from his little sisters. Blown out pupils, teary eyes, tight features, heavy breathing. Oscar had always been a great friend to you, he’d always cared for you. He brought you through, doing most of the talking if anyone stopped you two and let you in his driver’s room, promising to grab you when you could leave without being bombarded by crew, or the press. 

Lando followed behind after a few minutes, then knocked on the door. He knew how to calm you down, he was probably the only person who did. 

Oscar opened the door looking panicked. “She’s having a panic attack,” he whispered. 

Lando nodded and walked in, taking your hand in his as you hid your face in your other hand. He knelt beside you on the floor as you sat on the bed. “It’s me baby, I’m right here. Come on, squeeze my hand,” he said, voice steady. You didn’t. “You need to start breathing properly, squeeze my hand like I’m squeezing yours,” He put some light pressure on your hand, which jump-started you into squeezing his hand as hard as you could. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. You hated how well he knew you. You wanted him to not know you, to not understand you and your body better than you did. “Just like that,” he cooed. He pressed your hand to his chest, where you could feel his steady and calm breathing, feel his regular heartbeat. It was in stark contrast to you. The thump of your own heartbeat in your ears, the quick breathing, the erratic heart. “Breathe with me. Please baby,” his voice was soft and comforting. You tried, gently slowing your breathing down to normal. The adrenaline was still rushing through your body as you calmed down. Oscar offered you a water bottle and you let go of Lando’s hand to take it. 

“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry,” you said, sounding smaller than ever. “Zak said he wanted to see me after my set. I should’ve just said no.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Oscar placed a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously.”

“We want you here,” Lando added. The air was sucked from the room. “I want you here.”

“You don’t,” you refuted. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Lando sighed. “Let me walk you back to Ferrari, please?”

You shook your head, finally looking up and making eye contact with him. “You and I both know how that’ll go.”

Lando nodded, his heart breaking for the thousandth time. It’s hard to find an end to something you never want to let go of. “Ok,” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him. 

“Goodbye Lando,” you sighed, then took Oscar’s arm and let him lead you back to Ferrari. 

----------------

“I’m sorry about Lando,” Oscar sighed as you two walked up to the entrance to Ferrari. “About the break up, now, and basically everything in between. He’s been… difficult recently. He’s always been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy I guess… I just… you made him better, y’know?”

You chuckled sadly. “Thank you for apologising, but you don’t have to. Lando is an adult, so am I. Things just… end sometimes. Him and I just aren’t meant to be.”

Oscar cocked an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Oscar had never been this straightforward with you, and he sure as hell had never broached this topic before. You just nodded and took his hand. “Thanks for helping me.”

And then you walked back to Ferrari. 

Oscar did get one thing right, Lando wasn’t done with you. Maybe it was seeing you again, maybe it was the album, maybe it was Allison, maybe it was all of it, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he was still in love with you. He’d never stopped. How could he? He missed everything about you, your lips, your smile, your kindness, the way you’d make him laugh, the way you’d make him smile. Everything. He missed listening to you sing, seeing you on a stage that you wanted to be on. Seeing you get to be you. 

----------------

The Silverstone after-party with Charles who dragged you along. You’d thought it would be a bad idea, but when you were already 8 shots deep, you didn’t really notice. Yuki had pulled you away to sing a karaoke duet with him as Pierre and Charles laughed at you both, and you somehow ended up outside on the balcony with Carlos, both of you laughing at something random. 

“Y/n!” Lando cheered, clearly as drunk as you. A part of you had forgotten about everything before this moment, like you were seeing him for the first time. Perfect, with his curls, unbuttoned shirt, and damn pretty smile. “I didn’t know you were here!” 

“Lan!” you cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Carlos gave you both a very confused look, but was called away by Charles for a game of beer pong. Surprisingly, these ‘fancy’ parties usually just turned into something out of a frat house in Florida. Maybe it was just Logan’s presence. “How are you?” You slurred. 

“I feel great!” he shouted. “We should go for a walk!” 

“Yes!” you agreed. 

----------------

And that’s how you ended up back in his hotel room making out with him on his bed as he pulled your dress off. Funny how things can happen when you’re actually 18 shots deep, not 8. Oops?

“So pretty,” he murmured into your neck as he settled you on his lap. “So pretty for me.”

You laughed into his mouth, pulling back. “Lan, speed up.”

He smirked at you, his eyes heavy, then pressed his lips to yours again. He fully pulled your dress off of you as you started making quick work of his belt and trousers. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered in his ear and he let out a low moan. “Please Lan.”

He didn’t waste time. 

----------------

You woke up the next morning with a blinding headache, and a very naked Lando Norris beside you. You had to leave. You’d just fucked him, and he had a girlfriend. You were a homewrecker. You didn’t know if the sudden urge to vomit came up because of that, or the 18 shots of straight vodka you did the night before. 

You quickly grabbed your clothes, shoes, one of his hoodies, and tried to salvage whatever dignity you had left, then made a swift exit. It was still dark out and you were just praying that you could get through the 2 blocks you had to walk to your hotel without running into someone, or running into cameras. You quickly dialled Sasha’s number and tried to stop yourself from crying. You just pray you two used protection, or fell asleep before doing anything real.

“Morning?” she answered groggily. 

“Sasha I did something really fucking stupid,” you admitted, the tears welling up in your eyes as you walked into the lobby of your hotel. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Come to my room, we’ll sort it out,” she sighed. “You’ll be ok kiddo, I promise.”

----------------

You knocked on her hotel room door, tears in your eyes. 

“It’s 5 am,” she stated, opening the door. 

You rushed in, bursting into tears. “I think I fucked Lando, I mean- I-I think we fucked, last night- we were so drunk a-and then I don’t re-remember,” you hiccuped. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

She put a hand on your shoulder, sighing. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” she nodded. “But it’s not the end of the world. Did you use protection?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll go get Plan B, you stay here. Get changed into some pyjamas. Get some water, relax. Just don’t leave the hotel, yeah?”

“Alright,” you agreed. She left for the door. “Sash?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. She offered you a pitying smile, and went on her way. 

----------------

Months passed and you both went on with your lives. He didn’t reach out, you didn’t either. Sadly, you were in fact a homewrecker. A week after ‘the incident’ Allison and Lando broke up. You truthfully felt so ashamed and awful for the girl. It wasn’t right what you two had done, and truly, you were insanely drunk. In no world would you fuck Lando Norris sober. 

The tour had finally ended, and your world was no longer turned upside down. You were working on new music, healing your body after all the travel and abuse you put it through, and continuing to try and get over Lando. 

It hurt like a bitch. He hurt like a bitch. 

----------------

Lando two-wins. Contender in the Championship. Supposedly dating someone. Last Lap Lando.

Lonely Lando, more like. Max Fewtrell had decided to stage an intervention and join him for the rest of the races, worried about his mental state. Since seeing you again, he’d been… less than alright. He’d talk about you all the time, stalk your instagram (to the point that Max took his phone off of him in Greece), and generally just think about you a lot. It was coming up to the album drop, and you were having your launch party in Italy. The same weekend as the race. All because Charles wanted to come. 

Shit was bound to go down, and no one was more excited than Hallie. 

You were dressed to the nines, nervous and excited. You’d fired half of your team, you’d dropped your old label, and you’d become… happier? That couldn’t be right, not when you felt the oppressive weight of your own regret on your chest everyday. Not when you woke up reaching for Lando. Not when you watched every single race and couldn’t look away until he was safely across that damn finish line. 

You were surviving. That’s the best you could do. 

----------------

“You look beautiful,” Charles smiled as he walked into the party. The night had gone off without a hitch so far. A select group of fans, influencers, celebrities, and almost all the drivers were mingling with one another, and not one sighting of Lando Norris. Not that you didn’t miss his face, or him in general. You did. More than you’d ever thought possible to miss someone.  

“Thanks Charles,” you smiled, pulling him into a hug. “You look great too.”

He smiled and beside him, Alexandria smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You continued the superficial chatting for a few moments, just hoping Charles wouldn’t ask the dreaded question. 

He looked at you for a second too long, and you knew it was coming. “Are you alright?” God, why did he have to ask stupid fucking questions? Obviously you weren’t alright. Obviously, if you could, you would run away. Obviously, you were drowning. 

Didn’t he see that? Didn’t anyone notice? Didn’t anyone care?

Apparently not. 

You nodded, putting on your best fake smile. “Just nervous.”

He nodded. It was enough to fool him. 

The night went on in a flurry of uncomfortable small talk, ridiculous requests from your most esteemed guests, and it was finally time to start listening to the album. You stood on stage, a nervous smile on your face as everyone looked at David, your producer, who was speaking in length about how proud of the record he was, and how proud he was of you. Everything was perfect. Everything was right in the world. 

But, of course, because he had to always be the centre of your universe, Lando walked in. 

And you were fucked. Every single breathing technique you’d learnt, every single pressure point tapping you’d done, it all left your head. Everything stopped. You stopped breathing. You stopped. 

But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel bad to have him there. It felt awfully, and soul-crushingly, right. Lando was always meant to be there, a devastating realisation that you didn’t exactly want to make while on stage in front of 200 people. 

“Any words, Y/n?” David asked, passing you the mic. 

You looked at Lando and he smiled, waving at you. You smiled back. 

“Please enjoy this album, it’s from a very important time of my life where I finally learnt what it meant to be in love, and be loved wholly in return. Obviously, it didn’t end very well, and that’s when I learnt what grieving someone was. I still have a lot of love for him, probably more than I should. But I have it. And I had nowhere to put it, so I put it to music, which is really the only thing I think I’ll ever truly understand. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you understand it,” You explained to the crowd. You watched Lando the entire time, looking at how his eyes lit up when you talked about your relationship. Lando had always cared about you. He always would. 

The opening cords of the first song started playing, and the attention was off of you. The crowd just closed their eyes and listened. You exited the stage and joined the crowd, desperately trying to get out of there. You stood on the balcony as the music blasted inside. People danced along, sang along as they started learning the words, and you stayed outside, tears falling. 

“You’re beautiful,” Lando’s whisper made you jump. You turned to see him, standing there behind you. “The album’s beautiful.”

You scoffed. “The album’s an album. What was beautiful was us,” you sighed. “Thank you for coming.”

He nodded, leaning against the barrier beside you. “Do you even wish our lives weren’t as complicated as they are?”

You chuckled. “More than anything.”

“We were beautiful,” he shook his head, trying to remember why he ever ruined the best thing in his life. “If you ever find yourself wanting to love me again, just… call me?”

You nodded, looking at him. “I will.”

He nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder and letting it sit there for a split-second, just to remind him of what it was like to touch you. Just to remind himself that once, he didn’t have to wonder if you loved him, to remind him of the unwavering support you gave him, to remind him of how his whole world came crashing down when he made you leave it. “I love you,” he whispered before walking to the door. 

His phone started ringing in his pocket as he got back inside. Unknown number. He answered it. 

“I think I want to love you again,” he could hear your smile through the phone and he immediately whipped around, his smile growing as he got closer to you. When he stood in front of you again, you both took the phones down and smiled at each other.

Lando didn’t waste time. He closed the gap between you two in one simple stride, wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. “I love you so much,” he pulled back. “I’m never letting you go again.”

----------------

landonorris

1,488,928 likes | liked by oscarpiastri, y/ny/l/n, and others

love of my life. @ y/ny/l/n

comments

user28: WHAT THE FUCK THEY BROKE UP MONTHS AGO THO????-> user92: they were seen kissing at her launch party

y/ny/l/n: who's that pretty girl? -> oscarpiastri: she's too good for him -> landonorris: >:( -> oscarpiastri: hurt her again and I push you off the track. ->carlossainz: I second this -> charleslecerc: I third this -> alexalbon: I fourth this -> georgerussell: I fifth this.

georgerussell: Trying to beat me with no shirt?

lewishamilton: Yay! (I begged her not to take you back you asshole). -> pierregasly: Yay! (I'm trying to be supportive of her).

lilymhe: fuck off. ->user83: LMAO -> user18: DAMN EVERYONE HATES HIM

danielriccardo: HAHAHAHAHAH (I'm crying.)

----------------

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[palskippah]

Hi! Nimona told him to do a thumbs up (also I hope you get the reference image because I couldn't find it ajkdsad)

There's some mpreg headcanons and drawings under the cut! :D

By the way the limit of images is 30 so I had to make some longer images with comics to save space and put more drawings 😭

-Also, small continuation from the previous drawing:

(I wrote baby album but maybe it should be those albums that people keep of the pregnancy process ajskd)

-When Ballister first started showing, he was a bit insecure about it, but Ambrosius helped with that, in the romantic sense of worshipping and whatever, but also like this:

Translation (did my best to see how to translate it sorry sdjksd it works better in spanish)

1 Ballister: I think it's too soon to be getting fat- Ambrosius: You know what else is getting fat? 2 Ambrosius: Who said that

-Ballister goes through the denial of needing new clothes, so imagine him still wearing the stuff he usually wears and Nimona coming from behind and picking at the clothes by his shoulder and going in a high-pitched voice, as if the shirt was talking - I'm tired, boss while Ballister swats her away and say, leave me alone, it still fits me >:(

(it doesn't)

>Also Ballister absolutely refusing to wear maternity clothes, the only one he got he was like, wearing it and looking very unimpressed, and Ambrosius' like, you don't like it? :( and Ballister says, No. It's ugly as fuck >:(

>So, he just gets bigger shirts and stretch-ier pants and that's it. Also he gets an oversized hoodie and he says that's gonna be his best friend the rest of the pregnancy, and both Nimona and Ambrosius gasp offendedly at that.

So-

Ambrosius (turning to look at Nimona): What the- hey, I am his best friend. Nimona: Course not! You lost that privilege with what happened that one time (she means the movie events, more than five years ago) Ballister: Ambrosius' my best friend, Nimona. Ambrosius: HAH >:D Nimona: Aw :( Ballister: Because you're my sidekick :) Nimona: :D Ambrosius: Hey, what now- that sounds better than best friend :(

-Ballister during most of the pregnancy is like, woo baby :) but at the very last months he's at least half of the time pissed off, tired and done with being pregnant.

(my incredible math skills in the next point)

>70% of that time he's mad at Ambrosius (who made him pregnant), 20% mad at Nimona (who consciously (and sometimes unconsciously) gets on his nerves) and the remaining 10 he's pissed off at Baby (and he gets sad about that one, because he's just a baby, so he redirects it at Ambrosius instead 😔)

>Ambrosius does his best to be of help but usually there's nothing he can do aside from being there (and sometimes getting out of Ballister's sight, if he's really angry- in the sense of 'I don't even want to see you now')

>Most of the time Ballister just cools off.

-Also Ambrosius giving him massages, sometimes randomly on his shoulders or his feet, and sometimes something more elaborated, like Ballister laying down and him using body oil, setting the ambient and all to massage his back (and Ballister almost always falls asleep in those).

>Sometimes tho he just does a 'chop chop chop' at his shoulders (it doesn't do anything besides amusing Ballister and keeping him company)

>Also Nimona said that of course he'd just randomly start chopping Ballister while Ballister does nothing about it, so Ambrosius starts chopping her instead

(made these two drawings with like three weeks of difference ajdkad)

(N/SFW thingies on the next four points and the next four images)

-Also with that previous point imagine Ballister waking up all angry, and Ambrosius just not knowing what he can do for him to stop being mad, but it turns out that Ballister had just woken up horny and pent-up.

>And once he realizes, he's like Ambrosius... (with intentions of getting some), and Ambrosius is like 🧍? because a second ago Ballister wasn't even looking at him.

-Also with this, Ballister is just very much hornier now (after the first trimester which was the worst) and Ambrosius doesn't mind at all - except when his jaw gets sore or he's running late for work because they lost track of time and also other situations ajsdks but usually he's delighted.

>(In the drawing Ballister just crossed one leg over the other once he heard Ambrosius coming in, because he can't maintain the position too long without getting uncomfortable sdjksj)

-Whenever Ballister is like >:c and looking in Ambrosius' direction, he immediately assumes that his husband is angry at him.

>Y'know when you look intensely at someone so they feel your gaze and look at you back? Ballister here is trying to apply that, but it doesn't work bc of the previous point askdad

-I had written sometime (I think) about them blaming Baby on literally anything that has more or less to do with him. If Ballister's crying, if he forgets stuff, if Nimona coddles Ballister too much and pisses him off, if Ambrosius wastes all the cleaning product in two weeks because he had been cleaning too much (he's nesting and realizes that sometime later), if Nimona and Ballister eat the weirdest stuff that at least he wouldn't eat in normal circumstances- and a long etc.

-During Ballister's pregnancy, Nimona works the most she had ever worked in her existence (in the biscuit factory):

-Both Nimona and Ambrosius are the most supportive c: yippie. Supportive husband/best friend and supportive sidekick/friend/sibling/etc

>An example would be of Ballister being tired, and if the time allows, the other two will immediately suggest a nap.

>Their collective naps usually last hours and they wake up disoriented, sweaty, with drool and the sheets marked on their faces.

>Also they wake up almost always stacked, Nimona always under the other two.

Translation

Nimona and Ballister: (snoring) Ambrosius: Fuck- what year is it? (tries to lift himself up)

-Also Nimona is the self-assigned pregnancy pillow, and at first Ballister had refused to let her do that, but as a sidekick she took it upon herself to make sure that her boss was comfy and could sleep well - and Ballister reminded her that that's not what sidekicks are for. She said, fuck off I'll do it anyways >:c

>Anyways he sleeps great with her help and earns himself a huge told you so from Nimona.

>I had written a thingy where just when she woke up she was like good morning boss :D while Ballister also said good morning and she hugged him while pushing Ambrosius away, even out of bed. I can't remember where I left it but once I find it, I'll see if it's good for posting pipipi Also Ballister and Ambrosius are corny husbands

>Also here I drew my vague idea of a bear bc I was too lazy to look for Nimona bear references sowwy

-Nimona sometimes shapeshifts into Ballister to make fun of him.

(This one joke gets lost in translation which is a shame but I'm gonna share the comic anyways sdjs)

>(She's messing around about names, doing a play in words using Gloreth's name while Ballister is already warning her to stop)

>Nimona urges them to get a name soon because Baby is almost born, and they're like yeah chill we're on it - and they're both sitting on the sofa, with Ballister's legs over Ambrosius' lap, while Ballister goes through their list on his tablet and Ambrosius focuses on giving him a massage on his feet.

They're like-

Ballister: So, Cyril? Ambrosius: No, my horse at the Institute was called that. Ballister: Right, then not that one... What about Casper? Ambrosius: Hmm... no. Ballister: Why not? Ambrosius: I don't know, I just don't really like it. Do you? Ballister: Eh, it's alright, I guess. I don't think Baby looks like a Casper, though Nimona: You don't even know how he looks yet! Ballister: You shut up, kid >:v Ballister: So, what about…

And they're making nearly to none progress but yeah sjdsd

>Also imagine Nimona (as Ballister) imitating what he does now that he's pregnant but x10 times more.

Translations

1 AUGHH- MY BACK 2 FUCKING AMBROSIUS! 3 Ambrosito? Can you get me a sweet treat? 🥺 4 I'M HUGE WAAA

>And while Ballister is like wtf I don't act like that, he turns to Ambrosius like, do I act like that? 😥 And Ambrosius, who was laughing to himself, goes, well... not so intensely, which is good enough for Ballister.

>But Nimona points out to what Ballister is eating with a mocking smile (and it is weird to be mocked by a version of himself that has a pink strand on his hair, but whatever), and he's like ? what? and realizes that he did ask for a sweet treat almost like Nimona depicted he does, because he did pull the big sparkly eyes and he did call Ambrosius Ambrosito while at it.

>Then he's wondering if he really complains about his back like that (he does, but as Ambrosius said, he isn't so intense about it, usually just holding his lower back and throwing his head back as he winces. Normal)

>(the yelling insults at Ambrosius is definitely not true. But he does throw daggers at him with his eyes when he's angry, he has to admit to himself)

>Now, about crying because he feels huge- yes. Very much true, but he doesn't wail. Just sobs and cries a river like the sensible, serious adult he is.

-Also that thing of knights don't cry and whatever. This one knight does cry, and he cries a lot (at least while he's pregnant).

>He cried once because he dreamt that Nimona was a little spider and even though he warned Ambrosius to be careful, he accidentally crushed her and he woke up not only incredibly sad but also upset with Ambrosius, even though he was aware that it was silly to get mad with him over a dream.

>Nimona was like boss :( while hugging him, and Ambrosius had to scoot a bit away because Ballister didn't even want to look at him as he wept. Ambrosius said a lot of reassuring words of I'm sorry, I think I didn't see her :( while Ballister was like, but I warned you so many times :'[

>Then he was like, I promise you, I'd never hurt Nimona. And Nimona herself said, yeah boss, I'd crush him first, don't you worry about it :) and Ballister said, but I couldn't protect you :''[ while hugging her harder.

>And both Nimona and Ambrosius are (internally) like, ohh, so that's what it's about.

>Anyways, just a bunch of hugging and comforting gets him to feel a little less sad and also Nimona saying, but you're great at protecting me now :D so, there's all that sdjksd

-Sometimes Ballister just breaks down over seemingly the most trivial stuff too (which is usually just the last straw over a bunch of other stuff going on)

Translation

1 Ambrosius: Balli? What happened? D: Ballister (with one eyeline going up and the other going down): Ambrosito, my eyeline's crooked* *the straw that broke the camel's back (his hair isn't cooperating) (his back hurts) (done) (clothes feel uncomfortable) (the baby won't stay still) 2 Ambrosius (doing Ballister's eyeline): Stay very still, love (focused) 3 (they're in front of the mirror) Ballister (laughing his ass off): BUT HOW DID YOU MAKE IT EVEN MORE CROOKED?! Ambrosius (embarrassed): Aw Ballister (holding his belly): Ow, Baby, don't kick me, sorry, sorry! I'll stay still now-

>(Y'know when a pregnant person laughs the baby inside gets all shaken skdsd I find it funny, so imagine Baby being like ??!! because Ballister keeps laughing too hard and shaking him all around and his kicks are like him going, stay the fuck still D:<) (Ballister's still weepy but now he's crying with laughter, which is better than him crying from being overwhelmed)

-Also Ballister's very scared of giving birth but he's very good at pretending that Baby will simply materialize in his arms rather than him having to push him out.

(Drawings based over this)

Translation

1 Ballister happy because his baby is almost born 2 (Remembers that he has to give birth to him)

-The day that he was in labor and all, imagine the water just breaking and stuff and Nimona being like 'okay everyone DON'T PANIC' while panicking and also Ballister's panicking too (Ambrosius' at work and when he's told he also panics and arrives at the hospital in record time still wearing his armor. The power of first-time father panic)

(But someone gotta be not panicking in the situation, so Ambrosius calms the fuck down and becomes the calming presence that Ballister can rely on c: also Nimona calms down too and goes back to being herself and is very good at distracting Ballister while he goes through contractions and the hours before pushing.)

>Also y'know how in TV sometimes someone else imitates the pregnant person's breathing exercises by going huff huff huff quickly ajsdkjd

>Also Ballister going Nimona what about the bags and also don't carry me there?! and her going shit right and ignoring the second half, then returning for the bags and grabbing them, all while holding Ballister like a doll (a doll with a little doll inside SJDS pregnant barbie)

En español pensaba que fuera = AYÚDENLO, SE LE SALE LA WAWA - NIMONA DEJA DE HACER SHOW

-Wrote a lil something about Baby's birth and Ballister going through kinda a rollercoaster of emotions because at the very beginning of the pushing stage he almost had a panic attack, but then everyone in the room helped him calm down, and when he thought everything was going great, the doctor offered Ambrosius to receive their baby, and of course his husband was very excited about it and said yes, getting dressed up in the medical gown, the facemask, the gloves and all that.

(Initially everything after that was supposed to go swiftly, but I thought, no, what if Ambrosius faints like some dads do? and after watching a TikTok of a woman whose partner did faint and they had to pause her birth to hold him up because he was like over 6 feet tall, I was like hell yeah that's it)

>When Ambrosius finally got between Ballister's legs to look, his blood pressure went the fuck down. And since he's pretty tall and the nurse that tried to catch him was pretty short, the other one had to join in and then the doctor too to avoid him slamming on the ground. The thing was that Ambrosius was clearly fighting very hard against unconsciousness, giving the three people holding him false hope about him finally holding his own weight, making them almost drop him multiple times.

>Sensibly, the situation was kinda scary, because the three people assisting his baby's birth were busy trying to hold his husband from fainting. Said husband was clearly fighting with everything he got to keep himself conscious, and Ballister could very much feel his baby crowning.

>But seeing three short people trying to hold Ambrosius up and yelping when they almost dropped him several times, and remembering that Ambrosius had been so excited about it but hadn't been able to even stand the view, and feeling pretty nervous because his main emotional support couldn't even keep himself awake-, made him crack up.

>So, he's laughing out loud and going every once in a while, owfuck- because it still hurts like a bitch, while the other three keep going, YOU'LL DROP HIM. BE CAREFUL, SIR?? SIR, CAN YOU HEAR ME? and Ambrosius' like, yea- (faints again)

>(they're well aware that they gotta deliver the baby, so they're doing their best to hurry Ambrosius to get out of the way)

>The whole thing had made Ballister's body feel weak from the laughter, and he had to try and calm down to have strength again and push the baby out.

>As you'd guess, Ambrosius didn't receive their baby, and had to sit down and eat something sweet to not faint again, but he managed to stay on his feet well enough to cut the umbilical cord yippie.

>So anyways, Baby out, wrapped and all that, Ballister kept laughing more quietly about it and saying that they should mark the date in the calendar to celebrate Ambrosius fainting over almost delivering their baby. And Ambrosius' like hmm, I don't know Balli, maybe we could use this date for our son's birthday, don't you think? and Ballister's like OH RIGHT and now started laughing at himself.

I keep thinking of new stuff that contradicts what I already have posted, sowwy

>Imagine Ambrosius practically begging Ballister to not tell Nimona, while the other says she'd love to know but also is aware that she'd never let Ambrosius live it down, so he agrees on not telling her. Both eventually tell both Nimona and Baby when the latter is older and inquired about his birth, and indeed, Nimona loved the anecdote, and never let Ambrosius live it down, since then.

-Ideas about Nimona infiltrating the room in the form of a nurse after Baby is born and blowing up her cover when she commented on the baby's nose being just like Gol- Mr. Goldenheart's. And also, his hair being black like Bo- Mr. Goldenheart's.

>At the beginning when they had been admiring their baby, Ambrosius had said, he got your hair D': pipipi (he cried the second Baby got placed in his arms, got a drawing of that but I don't like how it came out wah, Ambrosius' wearing a facemask and being all tear-eyed pipipi) and Ballister had said, he got your nose :D but Ambrosius had said no? that's just a baby's nose, how can you even tell. But after Nimona commented on it, Ballister's saying told you so, it's your nose, while Ambrosius' like, Mr. Goldenheart could be either of us (both smiling amusedly because Nimona's too silly and they clearly know it's her, but she's all idk who's Nimona?)

-Also, I don't know how to make that work with the idea that when she got kicked out to the hall for the pushing bit, she went to steal some flowers and balloons with 'it's a boy!' on them for Ballister. But anyways, I'll write that bit too.

-Also this is Goldenheart with their baby, and I drew it a while back but realized that I don't like it anymore, so I'll do a redrawing someday sdjksd

>Imagine that Ambrosius was in the hospital bed with Baby while Ballister was getting ready so they could leave to their home, and Nimona said pictures timeee and then took that pic, with Ballister pointing at Baby and being all :D Also, Ambrosius looked pretty good and all, and Ballister was all unshaven face, kinda messy hair, the hospital band with his name still wrapped on his wrist as he pointed at Baby, and yet there were some people online that were like ??! Ambrosius Goldenloin Goldenheart was pregnant??

>And the people that knew even if a little bit about the Goldenheart's life, and also because they still went out and whatever, were like ? no? didn't you see Ballister like, a week ago? (Where he was very obviously pregnant and Ambrosius clearly wasn't sdjkdj)

>Every once in a while, Nimona would remember about this and repost it again, even after Baby is much older.

And that's it! If you read till here, bless you ajsdkadj

I've got more stuff about mpreg, both written and drawn, so I hope to make another post like this sometime, they're very fun to make :D

[mioons]

“how could my day be bad when i’m with you.”

pairing. enhypen ot7 x fem. reader (hcs)

genre. fluff, est. relationship wc. 928 warnings. skinship, mentions of wedding, petnames, swearing

— enhypen as cute things that couples do. extra. guys idk why this took me sooo long to write like the thinking put into this is insane.

LEE HEESEUNG — sharing wired earpieces

it could be on the way to school. or on the way to that cafe you wanted to go to since forever. lee heeseung thinks he wants to somehow be connected to you at all times, even when you two were on the train or the bus; not just physically but emotionally too.

this is why he feels headphones aren’t his thing; because he can’t share it with you.

he’d put on his favourite album on repeat. he loves sharing his favourite things with his favourite person. his favourite pretty girl.

holding out one side of the earpiece, he’d gesture you to take it, “put it on,” he’d request.

you two sat on the train in silence but your hearts were connected, beating in tandem.

SIM JAEYUN — wearing his hoodie

he’d want you to have a piece of him everytime you two were not together. needed you to wear something that said that you were his. you were his beloved girlfriend whom he cherished so much.

honestly even if you weren’t apart he’d still make you wear his hoodie, claiming that it looked better on you than him. he likes the fact that the sleeves cover your entire arm, leaving only the tips on your fingernails to be seen; the way it almost reaches your knees—fucking adorable he thinks.

“by the way here’s your hoodie, i think i forgot to return it the other day,” you’d say as you passed him his hoodie.

he purposely didn’t ask for it back because he wanted you to have it. forever.

“no no darling, you keep it m’kay? everytime we have movie nights on fridays make sure to wear it.”

PARK JONGSEONG — helping you with your shoes + carrying you

tying your shoelaces? no no don’t worry, he’ll help you. slipping on heels your for you? he’d be down on his knees to help you with it. putting on socks? “of course my love, which pair of socks?”

don’t even move an inch, he’ll take care of you.

“you too tired to walk pretty?” he’d ask as he caressed the small of your back with his thumb, rubbing circles on it.

you’d shake your head, “no it’s okay seongie, i got it.”

you actually didn’t ‘got it’. every few minutes while you two were walking along the bustling street, you’d take a short pause to adjust your shoe.

“baby, cmon don’t be stubborn, let me help you,” he’d sigh and wrap his arms around your hip, lifting you off the ground, gaining a small yelp sound from you. “seongie you don’t need to carry me!”

“i know princess; i just want to carry you.”

PARK SUNGHOON — breakfast, be in bed or in public

the moment sunghoon found out you don’t eat breakfast he got worried but he didn’t say anything.

“yn, can we go out for breakfast tomorrow?” he’d ask while you two were calling on the phone.

“mm, sure, why not? tomorrow 9am?” you asked.

“mhm.”

he’d make sure you were well fed, made sure you had enough energy to sustain throughout the day. he wouldn’t want to see his pretty girl collapsing in school or when she’s out.

on days where you two stayed over at each others house, he’d wake up early just to cook something for you; to surprise you with breakfast in bed.

“good morning darling, eat up m’kay?”

KIM SUNOO — matching items

it started when you saw a couple bracelet on instagram and you decided to buy it for sunoo and yourself.

“what’s this for?” he’d ask as you helped you put on the bracelet.

“it’s matching bracelets, you don’t want it?” you pouted and looked up at him through your lashes

he sighed and chuckled, “no no baby, i just didn’t know you liked matching things.”

from then on he’d buy you guys anything matching. matching shirts? don’t worry he’d customise two just for the both of you. matching phone charms? he’d go and find one online for the both of you.

one day he’d get matching wedding rings too.

YANG JUNGWON — playing with your hair

if he’s not clinging onto your hand, he’s playing with your hair.

he likes the way your hair is so so smooth and he can just thread his fingers through it, how it smells like vanilla and lavender.

on some days he’d ask you, “hey darling, could i braid your hair please?”

of course you’d say yes. you loved the feeling of his fingers gently massaging your scalp as he styled your hair. even if your hair was short or long, he’d still play with it.

he’d pick flowers for you just to insert them into your hair. yang jungwon thinks you look like a bride like that.

NISHIMURA RIKI — love letters

he loves writing love letters to you. he’d spend hours and hours drafting and writing them. just for you.

when he’s not around to pass it to you, sometimes he’d send it to you via text to make sure you still get your daily love letters; life is too short for him not to send paragraphs professing his love for you.

his friends would ask him why he wouldn’t just want to tell you straight up and chose to write letters. to be honest he’s shy and too scared to say everything to you upfront, he’d rather just write for you so you could keep it forever with the other stacks of love letters he wrote you.

don’t worry, he’s already wrote his wedding vows.

luvlyhee 2024 :: taglist open ,, send an ask to be added

tl: @en-gelic @dioll @luv-sims @minjubie