#i deleted the clock app

[cheshiresartblog]

I don't vent often, but is it just me, or has this month felt like a 50yr long clusterfuck in just 20 days?

I'm tired, man.

[short666bread]

@maki-nsi TT wah sorry I’m incompetent and deleted your ask by mistake, but thank you so sm for the nice words re: my various iterations of these guys!!! I’m glad the different-ness is good and that my art feels friendly and comforting ;; anyways here’s the doodle I did based on your doodle :,)

[florenceafternoon]

realising that I may be a marauders fan but I don't think I'm in the fandom

[thawthebeez]

haikyuu tiktok is sooooo annoying oh my god guys nishinoya deciding to stop playing volleyball post-time skip is literally not the end of the world he's fine dude. also sorry ur faves didn't go pro not everybody in that series were going to make it to the big leagues anyway. every single decision furudate made with that series was deliberate and realistic and fucking amazing. also no ur fave ship is never going to get together, haikyuu is about sports not romance. there is literally one canonical relationship within the entire series and it's fucking tanaka and kiyoko. iwaoi is not real, bokuaka is not real, kagehina is not real, kenhina is not real, and they never will be. kageyama is not a red flag you guys just don't know how to perceive autistic people in a positive manner without babying them. please just read the fucking manga

[belle--ofthebrawl]

I'm already seeing tiktoks about potential names for new ghouls and I wish all of them a very much shut the hell up.

[yaytheboop]

You’re on «rapunzel should be played by a blonde, white girl» tiktok, I’m on «ned flames aka fox szn shouldn’t be cancelled for that baby falling out of a tree FOUR years ago» tiktok. We’re not the same

[pubbykid]

im so mad that tiktok keeps pushing content that triggers delusions man esp when my fyp is like only dog training

[mikeyisbrooklyn]

Mostly using this as an opportunity to promise the class that I have been working like a good noodle, I swear

Price regretted vocalizing how much he missed paperwork. He knew he would be behind upon his return, but as he limped into his office, he had two stacks of papers so high it swayed in response to any nearby movement. And this was apparently the leftovers after Simon tried to keep it from building up in his absence.

“Glad to ‘ave you back.” Simon grunted, as he held Price’s office door open for him. The warmth in Simon’s voice would be imperceptible to anyone else, but Price caught it. “Don’t croak anytime soon, I don’t want to even think about all this red tape you work with again, let alone handle it.”

“Not so easy being Captain, is it?” Price joked back as he went to sit in his chair slowly.

“That’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

Price let out a single rueful chuckle, knowing how untrue that was—at least, compared with all the shit he had to clean up. Speaking of, he had work to do…

He managed to be both the last to arrive and the first to exit the small party celebrating his return from leave. No one, except McTavish, was thick enough to try to keep him longer—but even the Scot let him slide away after seeing the look of pure exhaustion in Price’s eyes. He didn’t even get half of what he wanted to get done and Price knew that with each day back the more would pile on. That was the nature of the job, even if he couldn’t hit the field, the fight never ends. Price half-heartedly shambled to his room for the first time since getting back to base—not even having entered the room upon arriving with Gaz offering to take his things there for him—and laid down in his bed without even disrobing in a paltry attempt to sleep.

Though being fully clothed didn’t help, the real ailment that kept his eyes was the nagging voice in the back of his head. The one telling him how far behind he already was and would continue to be if he didn’t shape up. It didn’t matter that it was only his first day back, it didn’t matter that if it were any of the 141 or anyone else he would call them mad for thinking they could fill a two month gap in a day, it didn’t matter that he was specifically put on desk duty to not exert himself. All Price could hear in his head was how everyone’s tone with him since his injury had skated on caution, and all he could see were the carefully formed faces of professional soldiers that he could still clock as worried when they didn’t think he was looking.

Liability

Price shot up in bed so fast he thought he might get nauseous. Again. That’s been happening too much. He shook his head and ignored the brief pain of getting up on his leg too fast. Price knew he ought to get some rest, but he also hated being behind more than he hated being tired; despite his better judgment, Price slunk back to his office as the dusk turned to twilight.

The rising sun tried and failed to shine a light into Price’s office, as it was blocked from window entry by his drawn curtains. Price sprung up from his desk with a shout at the knock from his door; and if the top sheet from a stack of paperwork was stuck to his face as he did, then that was between him and his maker.

Seven Sentence Sunday

I was tagged by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening! Thanks for the tag!

Selkie Lamb

Aiden looks dubious, but he doesn't voice whatever argument Lambert can see is on his tongue. He doesn't bring up Lambert's predicament again at all until they've settled down that evening and have begun eating by their campfire. "You should winter with me," Aiden says, eyes pleading as he stares across the fire at Lambert. "The thought of you going back there, after what they did... Come with me to the caravan. You'll be welcome there." Lambert's still reeling with a confusing mess of emotions, and for all that he doesn't blame anyone but Rennes and Vesemir, he wants very badly to never feel the cold of Kaer Morhen ever again. "Alright," he says.

I am tagging @on-a-lucky-tide, @lokibuswrites, @sl-walker, and anyone else who wants to join in!

[whirlybirbs]

— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag | next →

It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist. 

It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?

Your head hurts.

You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle. 

It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge. 

I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'. 

You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang. 

You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter. 

...You never did text Dabi. 

You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment. 

No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.

The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow. 

Things are great! 

You shouldn't text Dabi.

But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?

Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?

You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week. 

You're sure the novelty will wear off. 

He's probably not even going to respond. 

You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account. 

It's done.

You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen. 

...Now what?

Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny. 

...So, there are two options. 

Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught. 

You shouldn't text Dabi.

...But, you do.

Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.

However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you. 

His lips twist into a scowl. 

He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth. 

He never liked this club anyway.

He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch. 

He's tryna quit.

He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore. 

The number on the screen isn't one he knows.

Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.

The text is one word:

hi.

Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl

→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u

There's no way.

Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen. 

Did he seriously text you back immediately?

You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.

→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is. 

You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?‎

Dabi's fingers move fast.

→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called

You snort a little.

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.

Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward. 

→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????

He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.

He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again. 

When you start typing, the bubble disappears. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint 

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service  him and nuri looked cozy

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl

Typing... 

Typing...

→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p

The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm nah i'm not stupid

→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy....really lame of u tbh coulda been fun

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun

→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me

Oh, what the fuck.

Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society. 

You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.  

→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later

You shouldn't have texted Dabi.

But you did. 

[saeun]

ꪆ୧ ── REAP WHAT YOU SOW ┊ LOVE TO LOSE ﹑ JJK. ⤿ starring: gojo satoru x fem!reader.

꒰ heart to none ﹢ if only he knew karma would come back to bite his ass a few years later. now he misses his ex while she's moved on.

𖧷 · love, ‘su: nothing much!! just moments of him suffering

co-parenting with satoru truly isn't all butterflies. as reserved and respectful as he is (to a selected few), satoru never hesitated to taunt you whenever you mentioned going on dates.

“a date? hmm, good luck with that.”

“if it happens to kick off, good for you, but i don't want him near my child.”

“how exciting! i hope it fails.”

those are just some examples of his behaviour. he's vocal about disliking you and the idea of sharing you. had he known beforehand he'd become slightly possessive, he would've avoided you and relationships altogether.

loving someone his mind hates but his heart longs for isn't an experience he'd wish upon his worst enemy — it's too much. the wretched feeling in his chest deepens whenever he's with the kid; scenarios of you being beside him at that very moment flashes before his eyes, but his pride's too high to crash whatever you're doing.

that doesn't stop him from texting, however. he never had an issue with double—triple texting you. if he had something to say (which is never anything important), he'll say it.

satoru: hey.

satoru: did you forget you have a family at home?

satoru: my child's asleep btw, we had fun all day.

you: my* child. not yours.

satoru: so what am i, an elf on babysitting duties?

you: sure if that's what you want. now stop texting my phone.

satoru: what if i'm dying?

you: i'd pop some champagne. throw something on the grill. light up a cigarette, even.

satoru: you don't even like cigarettes.

you: exactly. now bye i'll be there for six.

yeah, there's no doubt that you'll never entertain him again. he, too, wouldn't entertain himself if he was in your position. sure, he was an ass in the relationship but— you're both older and wiser. maybe you can put the differences aside and come together? a flat no is what you'd answer.

satoru doesn't even hear from you often; most of your activity reports come from your child who excitedly tells their father the details, wishing he was there.

“you guys had fun. i wish i was there too, bub.”

a sentimental tone settled in his voice. he's suffering the consequences of his actions, and he desperately needs you to help him through it.

just like old times: you'd be there for him, going along with whatever he needed to calm down. whether it's wanting to be in you or on you— as long as your arms were wrapped around him.

but it's all a memory now. a bitter one.

do you show your vulnerable side to the guys you date, too? do you hold them the way you held him? do they even know what you like? do they know you the way he knows you?

jealousy, regret, longing— everything mixes in his mind. his stomach aches. it feels as though his insides are hollow.

he adores your child. they look mostly like him, but the personality stems from you. the attitude, tantrums, even the way they hold things — it's all you. he guesses the kid's observed you and eventually picked up your habits. satoru relates; after all, he still has some of your habits he picked up.

as the clock ticks on, his fingers hover over the keyboard on his phone. somehow, he found himself in your pinned chat— debating whether he should text or not. he's been typing and deleting for the past ten minutes. unless you're not on the app, there's no way you didn't notice the ‘typing...’ under his contact name.

satoru: i've been thinking.

(message deleted)

satoru: fuck your date let's get back together.

(message deleted)

satoru: or whatever you're doing right now. let me apologize — it's been years. our baby's four now.

(message deleted)

satoru: hey.

you: what's with these deleted messages?

you: are you okay?

he wonders. is he okay? would you come over if he said no? are you going to be mad if he re-sent what the deleted messages said?

satoru: uhhh yeah. everything's fine.

satoru: i'm bored that's why.

satoru: you should totally come over.

you: no.

you: talk to you later.

satoru: please? i'm serious.

you: fine.

satoru: might as well spend the night.

(message deleted)

satoru: thanks.

(message delivered)

“well fuck...” he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. he doesn't have anything to say nor do with you. actually, he does — he has quite a few, but he wouldn't push your buttons. he'd love to, but the chances of him receiving a slap is high.

[enjisbf]

i also downloaded the clock app just to download and repost edits of him (and sangihun) :3

i talk a lot about 457 but Cho Sang-woo 🫶🏽

[lmaowhatt]

it takes time - two

summary: actress y/n I/n has recently skyrocketed into stardom after her breakout film 'castaways' alongside sarah cameron, kevin hart, chris evans and chris hemsworth. weeks after the movies premiere, she drops her debut single, further cementing her place in the spotlight. as millions of people around the world begin to notice and idolize her, struggling with her own demons, she catches the attention of rafe cameron, among others. however, not everything goes as smooth as they both would've hoped. and they soon figure out.. it takes time.

main masterlist | series masterlist

one - two - three

the clock in your and jjs shared apartment was nearing four in the morning as you and jj tiredly walked through the door. you rubbed your fingertips against your forehead, "yeah, theres no way im sleeping tonight." you walked over to the fridge, grabbing a small icepack from the freezer, wrapping it in a paper towel and pressing it against your forehead.

"you sure youre okay? shit was hella disrespectful," jj propped his body up on his hands that were placed in the kitchen island. you shook your head, removing the ice pack, "yeah, im good. comes with the fame, i guess." you shrug, not thinking anything of it, oblivious to the fact that he was still eyeing you suspiciously. "anyways, you said the single might be done within the next week, right?"

jj nodded as he continued on with the flow of the conversation. "yeah, we just need to finish some background vocals and me and paul will do the rest," he smiled at you as you scrolled through your written lyrics in your notes app. "okay, yeah, easy. you tired?" jj furrowed his eyes brows as he pushed himself off the counter, shrugging his hoodie on, leaving his cap on his head. "shit, not really. why?"

you smirked in a way that made him narrow his eyes at you, "ew. dont ever do that at me again." you laughed, shoving his shoulder, he rushed up to you, rubbing his knuckles against the top of your head. "okay!" you let out a laugh as he pulls away.

he moved back to where he previously stood, fiddling with the fake plants placed in the center of the island. "you think we could finish it right now? youre renting the studio space, right?" jj nodded with a raised eyebrow as you giddily smiled at him, "right now? you in a mood or something'?" he asked with a chuckle, to which you rolled your eyes.

"cmon, i have ideas for this shit," you shook his shoulders as he laughed at you, "alright, alright. cmon, grab a couple waters, we ran out," you squealed with a smile, moving to grab a mix of both cold and room temperature bottles, showing them into your hoodie and sweat pockets. jj turned back to see if you were done as he approached the apartment door again. "you look stupid as shit," he let out an innocent dig at you, to which you sarcastically laughed and shoved him out the door.

youruser

liked by jjmay, kiekie and 1.2 million others.

youruser late nights @ the studio. fav part of the night? jj doing a cover of train wreck by james arthur. trailer for hellraiser later today, premiere soon! oh yeah.. something about another single?? TV coming to you 12-25-24!💗 my gorgeous @/madisonbeer with the cover art, i love you babe. cover art taken by: @/popeh

user oh my GOD?!?

jjmay still in shock btw

kiekie im in LOVE what??

jjmay we love not announcing things when told to if you couldnt tell

*liked by creator*

user WHAT?

user i KNOW shes gonna fuck it up

sarahcam FINALLY

jbr i need that recording of jjs covers NOW

➯ youruser unfortunately it has been deleted😔 (sending rn)

➯ jjmay um hello? i literally deleted it off ur phone??

➯ youruser recently deleted is a thing yknow..

user shes so gorgeous someones missing out

*liked by creator*

user i wanna be her when i grow up.

user iconic asf.

jjmay added to their story

sarahcam

liked by jbr, youruser, rafecameron and 1.7 million others

sarahcam life lately💁🏼‍♀️

youruser who are those beautiful babes in slides 3-5?

➯ sarahcam i love you🫂

rafecameron the way you chose the pics where you surprisingly look better

➯ sarahcam i always look better tf?

jbr i love you❤️

*liked by creator*

user im so gay

➯ user LMAO i love this (real)

jjmay why im not on here is beyond me🙄

cleopatty love you sarbear🖤

popeh my baby looks gorgeous (rafe)

➯ rafecameron kicing my feet n shit

user y/ns smile is so beautiful wtf

➯ user dont understand how rafe didnt fall for her tbh

user id treat her so well.

user rafe fumbled.

➯ user this is sarahs post? get out of here with the rafe and y/n delusion pls😭

➯ user yall dont even know if they were together? one of them prob did something.

*liked by rafecameron*

user now i know damn well

➯ user rafe knows exactly what hes doing

user yall acting like y/n could bag rafe😂

➯ user not the point but... alright. go say this on their posts😭

your phone

"jj!" you called to him from the living room. you could hear himg say his goodbyes to pope with a very audible groan, to which you rolled your eyes. "what!" he yelled too close to comfort. you sighed, hugging your legs close to your chest on the corner of the couch.

through your peripheral, you saw him sit down on his favorite part of the couch, right in front of the tv screen, his body turned to you. "you wanna go to the hellraiser premiere with me?" you asked, glacning between him and your phone as you texted the girls groupchat goodbye, locking you phone and focusing on him after.

jjs mouth dropped agape, "seriously? i thought youd take one of the girls?" you pulled a winced face, "well, i was gonna ask cleo. but i think shes going with pope. sarah and jb, obviously.." you trailed off. jj could inly rasied his eyebrows at you expectantly, moving his hand in a circular motion to siletly tell you to continue.

"well, kies going with... rafe" you mumbled incoherently, causing jj to lean in even closer. "with who?" he streatched out his final vowel, "with rafe." you spoked more clearly, to which jjs jaw dropped agape again. "deadass? i thought they like.. broke up 'n shit," jj more so stated as he furrowed his eyebrows and leant back against the couch cushions.

you nodded, "they are. she said he asked her to go as his plus one," jj cocked an eyebrow as if asking for proof. you rolled your eyes, unlocking your phone as handing it to him with the girls groupchat already open. "beautiful specimens, really?" he chuckled as he scrolled through the most recent texts.

"its funny, shut up," you laughed, lightly schoving his shoulder. "welp," he mumbled with still furrowed eyebrows, handing you the phone back. "you okay with that?" now it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows, "why wouldnt i be?" jj only shrugged, "well, you brought it up. you woudlnt do that if you were okay with it." he reasoned as he turned his full upper body towards you.

you let out a heavy, slight exasperated sigh, "you know.. in another life youre dumber than a chicken," you joke with a straight face, jj reciprocating the stoic face. however, the two of you gave up on the seriousness, busting into laughter almost immediately after, shoving each other. you let yourself turn serious for a moment, "well, i told you about the scene and everything, right?"

jj cleared his throat as he sat back up, "yeah, how he got 'awk,' as you said." the man raised his fingers into quotation marks. you rolled your eyes with a smile, "well, yeah that. i feel like its gonna be awkward at the premiere and we have to be close for pictures and shit a-" you let out a short rant, only stopping when jj placed a hand on your arm.

"hey, ill go with you. ill be by your side, alright? the promise remember?" he assured you, causing you to let out a soft smile at the memory from around two to three years ago. you and jj has just recently moved to la in hopes of starting some sort of performing arts career. the two fo you swore to each other to never leave the others side no matter how much the media or others tried to pit you against each other.

you smiled, raising your pinky in between the two of you. "'course i do." you let your smile grow a bit wider as he interlocked your pinkies, kissing his thumb, you following suit to kiss yours. as the two of you let go, you pulled him in for a hug, "thank you, j." you mumbled as you felt him wrap his arms around you. "of course, y/n." he rubbed a hand up and down your back until you decided to let go, knowing he never let go of a hug first.

"okay, enought of this sappy shit." you joke, "wanna see a picture of my premiere dress?" you rasied your eyebrows at him as you pulled out your phone that had gotten tangled up in your blanket. "no," he deadpanned with a straight face. he let out a laugh at the way your face dropped at his bluntness, "im kidding, show me." he laughed, only causing you to roll your eyes as you scrolled through your camera roll, pulling up the picture.

december 21, 2024

mediaupdates

liked by others.

mediaupdates rafe cameron and y/n l/n alongside family and friends at the 'hellraiser' premiere today in downtown la!

lmaowhatt guys some of the pics came out blurry dont blame me😔

user trailer had me in a CHOKEHOLD.

➯ user f the trailer, these people have me pinned down😔🙏🏽

user closest ive seen y/n and rafe since the trailer came out

user the cameron siblings🙏🏽

user cant wait!

user someone tell rafe so answer my dm please and thank you.

user THEE most photogenic group of people ive seen in my life

user the girls?? im sorry but theyre so beautiful

user rafe this, rafe that. girl y/n?? someone give me her number rn

➯ youruser of course! its

user most supportive friends ive EVER heard of.

user does rafe make it his personal mission to not be near y/n or..?

➯ user girl.. the frist picture is literally them attached at the hip.

user ariana (topper) what are you doing here💀💀

➯ user i thought topper and rafe were like.. not close anymore.

➯ user theyre not😭

a/n pt 1.: i finished all my final exams guys! (i say as i know i probably failed 2) a/n pt.2: guys gigi done took my man kai 😔 hes such a loverboy tho its cute af

[biancadoes1]

Is it true that someone clocked in the comments that they were lying and the account now deleted all comments and restricted and now nobody can comment anymore?

I am blocked, I can't see that account anymore.

Comments are being deleted and restricted.

If that’s not an indication this is some bullshit then maybe the Canva editing app open on their MacBook screen is.

[lvrsparadise]

'JEALOUS' - M.S

Synopsis - She's always liked him.

Warnings! - Profanity, kissing, reader being jealous, Matt n reader being cute, fluff

A/N - Okay. I want to kms because I had originally written out something so beautiful for this. And then I accidently deleted something, and I forgot that if I press control z it ERASES THE WHOLE DAMN THING! So, this is a re-write. Enjoy!

Work was so tiring. I got cut from the floor at 7 instead of 9, when I was supposed to get off, because I had no tables. I made barely $40 in tips. And not to mention the weird drunk creep who kept asking my co-workers and I, very uncomfortable questions. I sigh as I clock out of the system and grabbing my stuff before saying bye to my co-workers.

I walk out the back to my car. I open the driver door and throw my stuff in the passenger seat. I just sit there and recollect myself before I put the key in the ignition, turning on the car.

Thee drive back to my house was quiet. I didn't have the radio on, I didn't have the windows down. I wasn't even on the phone with anybody. Today was that stressful.

'I'm going to have to ask my maneger for more hours next shift.'

I pull into my driveway and grab my stuff, turning off the car and walking to my front door. I open it and am immediately bombarded by my puppy, Sam, and my cat Mr. Murray.

I set my stuff down on the couch before walking upstairs to my room. I get undressed and hop in the shower. After my very refreshing shower, I throw on some comfier clothes - a pair of pink and black plaid pajama pants, a white tank top, and one of Matt's hoodies he left over.

I flop on my bed with a sigh. I sit up and open my phone, opening my messages app before clicking on Matt's contact. Matt is my brother's best friend. Well, actually, Chris is my brother's best friend, but I learned that they're a package deal. Get one, get all.

1 ring. 2 rings.

"Hey. Everything alright?"

I breathe out a small sigh of relief at the sound of his voice.

"Hey. Yeah, no everything's fine. I've just had a stressful day and I was wondering if we could go for like a drive or something?"

"Yeah, no that's fine. I'll be over in 10."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Always."

That's the last thing I hear before the line goes dead. Knowing he's going to be here in less than 10 minutes, I slip on my converse and head downstairs.

I love on and play with Sam and Mr. Murray for about 5 or 6 minutes before I hear a car pull in my driveway. I instantly recognize it as Matt's car. I grab my wallet, just in case, my keys, and my phone, placing all of them in the pocket of the hoodie. I hear a knock at my door and Sam barks. I yell out his name to get him to stop barking as I open the door.

There he is. Looking perfect as ever. Even in sweats and a hoodie. He's wearing that damn smile. One I return gratefully.

"You ready?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

I close my door behind me as I walk out, locking it as well before I walk over to the passenger side of the car. I get in and so does Matt. He pulls out of my driveway and starts driving around with no destination.

"How was your day? Why was it stressful?" He turns is head towards me as we're at a red light.

"Well, I got cut from the floor early because we were dead, and I had no tables. I made barely $40 in tips. I also had to work with that one girl I told you about. She made the day ten times worse. And this morning, Sam thought it would be nice to wake me up with a surprise next to my bed." I rest my elbow on the center console, resting my chin on my hand as I look out the window.

"Yikes." I hear him say as the light finally turns green and we start driving again.

"What about you? Anything fun happen?"

"Chris almost like, broke the ceiling in the warehouse."

"How in the hell?"

"I have no idea; I wasn't around when it happened. But Nick was and he kept making jokes about it reminding Chris that he did it. It was hilarious." He chuckles quietly.

"I bet."

"Oh shit."

"Hmm?" I turn my head towards him, his gaze switching between the road and the dashboard behind the steering wheel.

"I'm almost out of gas. I think I have enough to get us to that 7-11." He jerks his chin towards a 7-11 that's not too far. It's dark out, not many cars are on the road, the gas station seems empty.

He pulls into the gas station, pulling up to a gas pump. He turns the car off after rolling down the windows a little bit. He gets out and walks over to the pump, which is next to me because for some reason, the gas tank is on the right side of his car instead of the left. So, as he fills the tank up, he's also leaning on my window, talking to me.

"Did anything interesting happen in your day though?"

"Um, let's see. Oh, there was this older gentleman who tipped me $25 for being the best server he's had. He was celebrating his anniversary, but he said that his wife had passed away a few years ago. So, every year on their anniversary, he goes out and gets himself a meal. It was so sweet, it almost made me cry."

"Wow. That does sound swe-"

He's cut off by a girl walking up to him, looking to be around our ages, maybe a year or so older. She's talking with hi and flirting with him. I feel my blood run cold with jealousy at the realization she's flirting. Matt's hand is like holding onto the window, his hand partially in the car. I take advantage of that and I somewhat intwine our fingers, my own mindlessly playing with his.

Either she can't see me through the somewhat tinted windows, or is openly ignoring my presence, she asks him out to dinner. I squeeze his hand and he squeezes mine back. I hear him say 'Oh, I can't sorry. My girl is in the car' and my heart skips a beat. Multiple beats actually.

He finishes filling most of his tank and pays before walking over to the driver's side as quick as he can speed walk without running. He turns the car on at lightning speed. He starts to drive off to my house.

The drive is silent. Other than the really quiet hum f whatever is on the radio, there is not a peep coming from either of us.

About halfway through the drive back to my house, he reaches his right hand over the center console and grabs my left hand, interlocking our hands before resting them on his thigh. My chest is filled with butterflies. My head is empty. I feel my face heat up as I turn to look out the window next to me.

We pull up to my house. As soon as he puts the car in park, I'm out the car and making a b-line for my front door, unlocking it in record time. I didn't realize Matt was hot on my heels until I turn to close the front door, his hand stopping it. I sigh in defeat knowing I won't win. He pushes the door open and then walks in, closing it behind him.

"Were you jealous?"

"What? I have no Idea what you're talking about Matt." I place my wallet and keys on a table I have next to the door for that reason. Of course, I was jealous, but I would never admit it out loud. Especially to the guy I was getting jealous about.

He shakes his head and crosses his arms "Wrong. Were you jealous?"

I roll my eyes slightly "Matt- I don't get why you're asking me this. It would be the same if it were me-"

"No, it wouldn't."

"Wha-"

"A guy touches you? Jealous. A guy flirts with you? Jealous. Takes you on a date? Kisses you? I'm jealous. I'm jealous as hell. How have you not known? I'm not very secretive about it at all. Now I'm going to ask you one last time. Were you jealous?" His voice, despite being stern and angry, it still is soft and kind.

I sigh in defeat, crossing my own arms, mirroring his pose. "Yeah. I was. I was very jealous."

There is nothing said after that. And there doesn't need to be. Next thing I know, I'm being softly pinned against the wall and Matt's hands are on me. One on my cheek and the other on my waist. I try to look at the hand on my waist but the hand on my face makes me look into his eyes. He doesn't say much, but words aren't necessary right now. He leans in and kisses me.

The kiss is soft, tender, sweet, and everything a hopeless romantic like myself could ever want. I entangle my hands in his hair, closing whatever space was between us.

After what felt like hours, but was really 20 seconds, we pull back for air. Both of us are panting.

"I'm taking you out Friday. 6:00. I pick you up, with flowers, take you to dinner, then I take you to a 7:00 movie, then we walk on the beach before I take you back home and kiss you goodnight. How does that sound?"

Although my eyes are still closed, I hear the smile in his voice, and at his words I can't hold back a smile of my own. I open my eyes and look into his beautiful blue ones that look like they're the ocean. I swear I get lost in them for a few seconds before replying.

"That sounds perfect."

I don't have a taglist for the Sturniolos!

If you want to be in it, all you have to do is ask! <3

I love all of y'all!

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ ii ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

warning/s: graphic description of blood and gore, body insecurity, lando might be a lil ooc

masterlist.

God bless Jinnie Jo and her overly prepared self because you thought you’d die when you got attacked by the damn shellfish allergy in the car on the way to the hotel. It's fortunate that Jinnie happens to carry around your allergy meds. You dry-swallow the tablets without hesitation, uttering your thanks to Jinnie.

“Song Dan-ssi gave me a list of your allergy meds before we left,” Jinnie tells you. Warmth floods your chest. Manager-nim may be in another country but he never fails to take care of you. You're definitely going to buy something for Manager-nim when you return to Seoul. A jacket perhaps?

The first thing you do the moment you enter your hotel room is kick your boots off, take a warm shower, and reunite with the love of your life—the bed. The mattress swallows you whole and you let out a content sigh as you allow your body to sink in it. Not even ten minutes later, you grab your bag, which you have haphazardly thrown on the bed, take out your phone, and open the X app. You type Lando’s name in the search box.

username1: i am disgusted by the people who still support lando norris like yall really support a man who got a girl pregnant and refusing to take responsibility? i just know mclaren is lying when they said he's not the father

username2: justice for the girl that lando norris got pregnant! he should be kicked out of mclaren!

username3: that girl lucky bc her baby daddy is THE lando norris. she should tell us how he fucks in great detail

You cringe. Your fingers tap the three buttons at the upper right corner and without hesitation, pressing report. You continue to scroll down the tweets, reading them one by one as the clock ticks.

username4: what lie will mclaren tell again to protect little lando norris?

Your phone pings. A notification bar appears on the upper portion of your phone screen. You have received a message. You stop reading the tweet and open your messages app.

unknown number: hey

unknown number: this is lando

unknown number: your boyfriend?

unknown number: the fake one

You immediately save his number in your contacts. You name him Lando Norris.

you: hey there

you: do i just call you lando or

lando: you can call me baby

You snigger at his flirting attempt. Ten points for trying, Lando Norris.

you: okay baby

lando: 😳

lando: okay

lando: we agreed on hard launching each other in socmed right?

you: yah

lando: i kinda don't have a picture of you?

lando: pr told me to ask you if you can send me one

lando: i’ll send you one too

you: i have an idea

you: put me on your story

lando: yeah im planning to do exactly that

lando: have you been listening to what we talked about earlier in the meeting?

you: then delete it after a few mins

lando: wait why

you: make it look like you did it on accident

Your first mistake in your first PR relationship with another idol is that you immediately hard-launched each other on Instagram after Dispatch released his pictures kissing a guy in a bar. People got skeptical and most of them called out your relationship as a PR stunt. They called you a cover up, which you were, but they weren't supposed to know that.

You're not going to make the same mistake twice.

lando: and this will work?

you: let's not shake the confidence i have

lando: 😂

you: people are already expecting mclaren to set a pr stunt so you can gain the public’s hearts back

you: u have to make yourself look like you never needed a pr stunt in the first place, that you’re not trying to win the public back

you: people will catch up if you suddenly post that you have a girlfriend in the middle of your hot issue

you: netizens are quickwitted theyre not as dumb as most of us think

You hope you're explaining it well. You're trying to make your point as clear as possible but it's hard. You forgot the other English words you’ve learned.

lando: okay i get ur point

lando: i’ll do what u want

lando: someone has to tell pr what u planned though

lando: it's not going to be me

Fuck the PR. You're not going to tell them and let them have a field day tomorrow. That's what they get for expecting you to sign that stupid first contract they made.

You open your camera app and take a quick selfie.

No. Your nose looks too big at that angle.

Again.

Now, your forehead looks like an airport.

Again.

Your teeth are showing. The coffee stains are visible.

Again.

Again.

Again.

you: *sent a photo*

lando: i

lando: help me with the caption? my braincells flew off

you: idk not good at captions

you: just say hello loml or smth

This is the story you want to tell:

You met Lando a year after you departed from ORACLE in Australia.

You have a mutual friend—named Tori Allen—who introduced you to one another. Tori Allen does not exist. She's just the fictional side character of your love story.

You started out as friends. Lando is freshly out from a breakup and you’re just trying to live a quiet life after your fall from grace.

You talked for months because of your mutual interest in cars. Eventually, you started going on casual dates.

You asked Lando to keep it secret. He said yes in respect to you. HAN Entertainment already released a press statement regarding your mental health status after the 2021 incident so the public would assume that this was the reason why.

The relationship turned serious three months before Lando’s scandal.

Lando never got the girl pregnant. He never touched that girl. He was loyal to you.

Jinnie almost breaks down the door the next morning. You open it before she can do so. She angrily stomps inside your room and you close the door behind her. Her face is red, her expression taut.

“It's seven,” your eyebrows crease together. You make a quick glance at the phone in your hand. 7:22, the clock in your lockscreen projects. “You told me we are supposed to meet at twelve.”

“McLaren PR called me up,” Jinnie informs you. You’re beginning to get an idea where this conversation is going. “You didn't do what we agreed on.”

“And what did we agree on?” you cross your arms over your chest. You flutter your eyelashes innocently at her.

“That you’re going to choose photos to post on each of your accounts and let PR handle the captions. Norris posted something immediately without PR checking it and deleted it!”

“Did he tell you that it was my idea?”

“No, but I know that it was and it turns out I’m right. You just confirmed it.”

“Did it work?” you question.

“I can't with you!” she throws her hands up in the air, frustrated. “We are supposed to follow orders!”

“No,” you say. “You are supposed to follow orders. That's what Yoon PD-nim told you. He told me to do what I believed was best.”

You open X. Lando’s name is at the top of the trending list. You press his name and read through the tweets that appeared.

username5: LANDO NORRIS WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOR

username6: EVERYONE HERE ARE THE RECEIPTS *screenshot*

username7: is this what you call the freudian slip lol

username8: I AM NOT CRAZY GUYS LANDO ACCIDENTALLY STORIED HIS GF IN HIS PUBLIC ACC

username9: he deleted it so quick too 😭 im sure the man panicked

username10: HE CHEATED ON HIS GF AND GOT A GIRL PREGNANT??!?

username11: for all we know he didn't even bang that girl 🤷 his girlfriend’s pretty hot he’s definitely not cheating on her

username10: men cheat on their pretty wives and girlfriends all the time

username12: not lando norris that man’s in love LOVE can u see his caption

username13: the caption??? lando’s pretty smooth with his words

username14: he’s taking smooth operator lessons from carlos

username15: im crazy but what if this is just a pr stunt 🤔

username16: girl he won't delete the story in a panic if it's a pr stunt

username17: he was definitely going to post it in his priv and made a mistake 😭

username18: very lando of him

username17: he stronger than me bc if my girlfriend was that pretty, her face will be flooding my instagram

username19: ignore lando, his girl tho 😳

username20: he called her loml omgggg

username21: booo luisa’s prettier

username22: fok off and move on

username23: lando can you fight? meet me at the kfc parking lot and let's fight

username24: probably not but he can run you over with his car

username25: i swear ive seen that girl before i just cant pinpoint where

username26: IT'S [NAME] EX MEMBER OF ORACLE WE HAVENT SEEN HER SINCE 2021

username27: so he bagged a kpop girlie??? lando got game dayummm

username28: isn't [name] an illegal street racer? that's why she got kicked out of the group right?

username29: an f1 racer and a street racer couple 😳 omg what in booktok is this

username30: she's not a streetracer she only watched the street race

username28: she told you that herself?

username30: her company did

username31: THEY CANT BE DATING OMG LANDO YOU CAN DO BETTER SHE DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE A WAG

username32: and u think ur better than her?

“It's working,” you state. You turn to Jinnie, raising your phone in the air and waving it. A smug smirk spreads to your lips. “It's working.”

Nobody is doubting the relationship like the time with Minhyung. This is a good start. Now, onto the next part.

“So are we really going to keep having lunch dates until your race?” you poke the shrimp on the plate with your fork. You're having pasta again. In the same place, too. It sucks but you swallow the food and smile as if you’re enjoying the meal.

For today's outfit, Jinnie chose a Valentino Garavani black midi dress paired with Jimmy Choo Antia leather sandals. Lando matched your outfit with a black silk button up and off-white pants. You’re both playing the “looking like a couple” card well.

“I believe so,” Lando says. You mentally count the days of the calendar in your head. The FP1 is scheduled to begin in two days. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask….”

“Hm?”

“The team didn't scold you a lot, did they?”

“They didn’t,” you give him a tight smile. Did he worry? For you? That's very sweet of him. “Why would they? My plan went great.”

Lando nods, “It did. You’re good at this.”

You smile at his compliment, shrugging a shoulder. I’m supposed to be good at this. I have no other choice.

“Let's show them our story,” you say. “Show, not tell. People are more inclined to believe actions rather than words. Show them the story we want them to know and we don't answer their questions early so we can keep the attention and the curiosity on us. Once the timing is right, you answer their questions, one by one. This is risky because if we don't act right, we’re done….”

You set the fork down and finally stop terrorizing the poor shrimp. It's completely obliterated now.

“But I believe we can act right,” honesty bleeds through your words. “You're lovable and you already act like a sweet boyfriend without trying.”

Lando purses his lips and averts his gaze. You see pink dusting his cheeks.

“I try.”

“Nice try,” your words come out dry. You give him a thumbs-up. “Also, I’m full.”

“You only ate half your plate,” Lando points out.

“The portion is too big. I’m a light eater.”

HAN Entertainment is partly to blame for that. You got accustomed to their extreme diets and small meal portions that you cannot even eat more than a small bowl of rice.

“Do you not like the food?” he asks, concerned.

You don’t answer the question. Instead, you lace your fingers together and rest your chin on them, leaning slightly forward.

“I have another plan. Wanna hear it?”

You still don't like having attention to yourself. The feeling of having eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to make a mistake still terrifies you. But attention, the right kind especially, is a weapon. You need a weapon to fight this war. A war to build your career again.

“Keep them on their toes,” the instructor of your PR training class once said. “Give them what they want piece by piece, just enough to keep them wanting more, but never give them everything.”

Until now, you still abide by her teachings. God bless Kim Gaon-ssi and her big brain, wherever she is now. She resigned from HAN entertainment a year ago.

It's been a few days since Lando pulled that stunt in his Instagram story and yet, the attention you're receiving from the fans is not simmering down. You didn't expect anyone to be this involved or curious about a driver's love life but here everyone was.

You wake up at seven and then proceed to spend an hour on your phone while lying in bed to push all the sleepiness away from your system. You leave your bed at nine, change out of your sleeping wear, perform a whole morning ritual inside the bathroom, and by eleven, you send Jinnie a message to get brunch and invite her to eat together inside the privacy of your hotel room. She arrives after fifteen minutes with hotel service food. You eat until twelve thirty and after eating, you begin to get ready.

The free practice session is at 5:30 PM. You can afford a bit more time to get ready so you shower again. It took you nearly two hours. In the meantime, Jinnie prepares your clothes.

You mentally thank the heavens when you see trousers neatly folded on your bed. If Jinnie forces you to wear dresses again, you’re going to lose it. You're conscious of how big your thighs look. You don't even have a thigh gap. Big thighs, small ankles, and muscular calves. They're just a few of your numerous bodily insecurities.

Jinnie pairs the Moon Choi black back pocket trousers with a Dior Toile de Jouy Sauvage silk top. For the shoes, she chooses a pair of white Fila chunky sneakers. She helps you apply your makeup and fix your hair. To finish the look, you grab your black cross body bag, smart watch, sunglasses, and a black ball cap.

Jinnie snatches the ball cap from your hands and replaces it with a McLaren ball cap. A tacky orange with the number four. You raise your brow at her. She gives you a pointed look, a look that says: don’t even try to protest. You sigh, resigned, and pull it onto your head.

She scans your appearance, dragging her coal eyes from the top of your head to your toes. She huffs, satisfied.

“You look perfect.”

Perfect is the goal.

Jinnie drives you to the race venue. She drops you off at the parking lot. She's not happy with it. Jinnie wanted to come. You told her no. You can handle this little act alone. You don’t see an ex-idol with a manager, do you?

The moment you exit the car, you slip on your mask. Figuratively and literally. You tip your ball cap upwards to scan your surroundings, searching for the way in. You carry your phone in your right hand and your paddock pass in the left. Lando gave it to you during dinner yesterday.

A racing event is crowded with people. That's a given. Perhaps not as crowded as a concert but still crowded nonetheless. A stage will not separate you from the people nor a barricade. Unfortunately. You have no bodyguard, no manager, no HAN Entertainment staff.

You're not here as ORACLE’s [Name] but as Lando Norris’ girlfriend.

Your feet lead you to a path where there are less people. You message Lando that you’ve arrived. He replies in a matter of seconds.

lando: ill come and get you

lando: wait for me

You remove your cap, fix your hair, before pulling the cap on. You spot a man with a Nikon DSLR standing a good distance. He is wearing a cord around his neck. The word MEDIA is printed in bold white letters. Your lips curl a little underneath your face mask.

It is show time.

During your trainee years, acting classes are mandatory. You know the basics. You're confident that you're good at acting. If you weren't, the company wouldn't have pushed you to act in two dramas as a side character during your rookie years. You received a reward for your performances, too.

To look lost, you have to keep glancing around you as if you’re contemplating which way to go. You have to look unsure of your actions. Hesitant. You have to constantly look at your phone as if you’re reading directions in it or texting someone to tell you where you should be going. You have to scratch your nape a few times to express nervousness. You're in a place you don’t know, it’s natural to be nervous.

Someone is bound to approach you and help you. When they do, you remove the cap but not the mask and then hope they know who you are. When they don't, well…. that's a problem for future you. You haven't thought that far.

“Hi, excuse me, do you need help?”

You perk up. Orange fills your view. A group of four girls have approached you and they all wear twinning McLaren merch. You can see that three of them sport the number four in their shirts, Lando’s race number. You involuntarily swallow.

There was a case once where a rookie actress got beaten up by her idol boyfriend’s fans promptly after the release of their dating news. Fans can be so jealous to the point of violence. It's a toxic fan culture. That's why so many Kpop idols resort to keeping their relationships private and secret. You hope you won’t get beaten up.

But also, given that they’re McLaren and Lando fans, there is a high possibility that they’ll recognize you. Which is exactly what you wanted. So you push that stupid fear aside and keep the show going.

“Hi, uh,” you remove your cap and lower your face mask until it's bunched up below your nose. “I’m kind of…lost? Do you know the way to the, uh…”

You forget what it's called. McLaren garage? You don't remember the exact word Lando used. You're still not confident that you know the difference between a paddock, a garage, and a livery.

“Wait, I know you!”

You purposely widen your eyes.

“You’re Lando’s girlfriend!”

You smile sheepishly, scratching your cheek with your finger.

The girls break out into loud and high-pitched squeals. Their voices are so shrill that you cannot help but wince. You motion for them to quiet down. Inwardly, you want them to keep being loud. Loud enough to warrant the attention of the photographer, your target.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, we absolutely have to take a selfie!”

You barely understand her rapid spitfire of words until she takes out her phone. Panic instantly swells within you.

This is not the plan. You only wanted one person to take the necessary picture. Not this.

You hastily slap your hand over the lower half of your face. You stagger backwards and stumble against a sturdy wall. Your hands fly out to your sides as you feel yourself lose your balance. Two hands grip your shoulders and you hear a surprised woah! from behind you. You lift your head.

It's not a wall. It's Lando.

His beautiful, beautiful eyes gaze down at you. The colors look lighter under the sun. His thick brows are furrowed together, his forehead creasing.

Lando spins you around so you're face-to-face with his hard chest. You squint at the multiple logos printed on the long-sleeves he’s wearing. Is this what he wears when he races? He swiftly takes the McLaren ball cap off your hand and puts it on your head. His hand remains tenderly flat on your shoulder blade, the other lays on your cheek as if he's trying to cover your face. You tug your face mask up and rub your throat.

“Hi,” Lando greets the girls sweetly. This causes the eruption of another wave of high-pitched squeals. “I’m sorry but do you mind if we keep the cameras away? Our relationship isn't out and as much as possible, we’d like to keep it that way. Can we respect my girl’s privacy please?”

He sounds exactly like a male lead in a romance Kdrama. You know it's fake, that the both of you are playing roles, but his words and the way he delivers them so effortlessly makes you momentarily doubt if he's really acting. It causes a butterfly to flutter in your stomach and your pulse to steadily accelerate. His hands are large and warm and for a moment, it makes you wonder if this is what security feels like. If this is what it feels like to be loved.

Then, you get reminded that it is all an act.

How can actors not fall in love with their co-actors when acting can feel this real at times?

“Thank you,” you hear Lando say. You miss the previous parts of the conversation because of the thoughts that invaded your mind.

“You look so cute together, oh my god. I’m going to die,” the fangirl adds. Lando’s chest vibrates as he chuckles, the sound deep and warm.

“We need to go, sorry. Enjoy the race today.”

He taps his thumb against your shoulder blade and he starts walking, his hands not detaching themselves from your skin. You keep your head low as Lando guides you away. In your peripheral vision, you see the photographer’s camera pointed towards the two of you. A self-satisfied smirk plays on your lips.

“How did I do?” Lando asks the moment he removes his helmet. He is sporting a bright grin, so bright that you're sure it’s going to make the sun envious, as his fingers comb through his damp curly hair. A few stray strands are stuck on his sweaty forehead. You feel the urge to sweep them aside for him.

You search through your mental thesaurus for the synonyms of the word amazing and have chosen: “Impressive.”

Light beads of sweat trickle down his face and neck. A McLaren staff member comes and hands him a towel to wipe them off. Lando thanks her and she leaves. He thrusts the towel towards you. You blink in confusion.

“Will you do the honors?”

“Can't you do it yourself?”

“But you have to play the part of a sweet girlfriend, am I right or am I right?” You roll your eyes at his cheekiness, rising to a stand. You place the McLaren jacket in your hands on your chair. Lando handed it to you before he climbed into the car. You don't know the reason behind his action. Nevertheless, you held the jacket for him.

You take the towel from his hands, your fingers grazing with his. Lando’s smile threatens to split in half as he puts his hands behind his back, parts his legs a little, and then bends down so you won't have a difficult time wiping his sweat for him. You're not that much shorter than him and your height difference is perfectly reasonable and comfortable but you're still grateful that he's doing this for you.

You don't wipe his sweat. Instead, you pat them out. Patting is gentle on skin. The towel will simply absorb the sweat on his skin. Rubbing the skin can lead to skin irritation and inflammation. Lando’s eyes flutter close at your actions and you swear you see him leaning against your hand.

“You raced good today,” you praise him.

You have zero idea on what happened in the past hour. The cars went around in circles. Then, they time their laps. They’re not even racing each other. You thought they would.

In all honesty, you think the entire thing is a bore. The street races you went to when you were a teen were more fun. A minimum of three drivers gets injured every race and it's highly likely someone ends up dead, which is your messed-up definition of the word fun.

You’re more interested in the special guest who decided to grace the track with its great reptile presence. A dinosaur. Kidding, it's just a lizard. It looks like it was surveying the scene and strategizing a great dinosaur invasion.

Lando's chest swells, “Well, I have to impress my girl.”

He opens his eyes and they meet yours. They're twinkling with mirth.

“Color me impressed then.” Despite your words, your tone is unimpressed.

He smiles impossibly wider, now showing his full set of pearly white teeth. He bites his bottom lip. You stop patting his sweat and lower your hand to the side.

“You don't have any more races tonight?” you question. Lando straightens.

“Later at 9 PM.”

“That's quite late.”

“It is?” Lando’s head tilts to the side a little. “Do you sleep early?”

You hardly sleep at all. You have a hard time maintaining regular human sleeping and waking hours. Like the other half of the world population.

“That's not it,” you shake your head. “I kind of just expected that the next practice session would be tomorrow morning.”

“Singapore usually holds night races. Track temperatures are low and the organizers can broadcast the race during peak viewing hours in European time,” Lando explains. “And they hold two practice races a day because it only lasts an hour.”

“That makes sense.”

“Are you hungry?” Lando questions, smoothly redirecting the conversation to food.

“I could eat.” You're not particularly hungry. You're not full either.

“I know a good place that sells these amazing wraps.”

Wraps sound enticing. You can't remember the last time you've eaten one.

“Lead the way.”

You chew on your beef wrap slowly as your eyes focus on the screen of your phone. The voices of the sports announcers live broadcasting the ongoing race fill Lando’s driver room. After buying the wrap, he brought you to his driver room so you can enjoy the privacy as you ate. You appreciate the thoughtfulness. You don't think you can eat outside. So many people can see you.

username33: LOOK AT THESE PHOTOS I AM GOING FERAL

username34: HOLUP LANDO'S GIRL WAS IN THE PADDOCK??? ON THE DAY I DECIDED NOT TO GO?? EVJSNSVSISKS

username35: girlie was hiding 😭 she deliberately went through the back of the paddock so no one can see her going to the garage

username36: my friends and i met her today! she looks like she's lost and as fellow mclaren fans, we went to help her and she was so sweet omg and so so shy too. we tried to take a pic with her but lando arrived and told us to respect his girl’s space

username36: and i quote “do you mind if we keep the cameras away? our relationship isn't out and we’d like to keep it that way. can we respect my girl’s privacy please” WHEN I TELL YOU I MELTED ON THE SPOT

username37: girl he really said that???

username38: i’m her friend and yes he really said that 😭

username39: little lando norris is not so little anymore

username37: pls tell me you backed off immediately

username38: we did!! we kinda feel bad now that we discovered she's been battling anxiety since 2021 and that she doesn't like having photos of her taken

username40: NO BECAUSE THE WAY LANDO IS SO PROTECTIVE OF HER?? THE WAY HE SPUN HER AROUND AND PULLED HER TO HIS CHEST?? THE PROTECTIVE HAND ON HER BACK?? HIM COVERING HER FACE?? WE ALL KNOW [NAME] HASN'T BEEN IN THE PUBLIC EYE SINCE 2021 BC OF MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES AFTER HER SCANDAL AND LANDO REALLY TRIED TO PROTECT HER

username41: bae i think you forgot that he's also the reason why [name] is gaining attention again bc he accidentally storied her in his insta

username40: that's why i said tried bestie

username42: i cant believe im crying over this LANDO NORRIS U BETTER TREAT OUR GIRL [NAME] RIGHT

username43: im waiting for @hanentertainmentofficial to say smth

username44: girlie’s career flopped and now she's leeching off lando’s money smh 🙄

username45: bestie she never needed his money she’s already rich from being an idol

username44: correction ex kpop idol, her money’s probably already running out

username45: bestie she's still richer than you while you're 14 (your bio says your 14) and still living with your parents

username46: AND THAT'S VERY SLAY OF HER,, YOU CAN'T EVEN GET A RICH MAN TO LOOK AT YOU

username47: that girl who claimed that lando is her baby daddy is suspiciously quiet rn

You turn your phone off and toss it inside your cross body bag. A sigh flies past your lips as you lean against the back of the couch, setting your unfinished wrap down. Your eyes flutter close. They're beginning to sting. Too much reading.

Sleep latches its claws on you and you allow it to take you.

You stand in darkness, allowing the deafening silence to swallow you whole. Suddenly, a thousand eyes appear. Unblinking. Bloodshot. They're bulging out of their sockets. In unison, the eyeballs move and lock on your figure. Judging. Judging. Judging. Your body trembles at the weight of a thousand gazes. You can’t breathe. You can't speak.

Please stop looking at me.

Please.

I’m begging you.

Stop.

The eyes slowly became bigger and bigger. Then, they disappear. You let out a shaky exhale. You turn around and the world becomes a blinding white.

Cameras. Thousands. No, millions of them. The loud clicking noise fills your ears. Your hands stretch in front of you, trying to cover your face and your body from them. You can only squeeze your eyes shut.

Silence.

The scene changes.

You register the feeling of sand getting stuck in between your toes. Your eyes slowly flutter open. The overcast skyline and the rising tides, the telltale ingredients of a brewing storm over the horizon, can be spectated from the shore. You recognize this place. This was a place you swore you're never going to step foot again.

Jeju.

You hear your mother’s gentle voice whisper your name behind you, causing goosebumps rise on your skin and your entire body to stiffen. It's not the name you own now, but the name you were born with, the name she gave you, the name you lost when you moved to Seoul.

She calls your name again. Again. Again. And again. You ignore every single one.

She stops.

You slowly turn around and you see your mother standing there, a few steps away, barefoot like you and wearing a dress. You remember this dress. She wore it when she was pregnant with you. She keeps the photo in her wallet.

No Eun Ha looks as beautiful as she was in your childhood memories. You greatly resemble her. The eyes most especially. That's why looking at mirrors feels more like a punishment to you more than anything else.

The word “Eomma” rots inside your mouth.

Your Eomma smiles at you. It's empty, her smile. When she smiles, they never reach her eyes. That's the way it has always been. For a second, you consider apologizing.

Eomma, I’m sorry that you have to raise a child you didn’t want. I’m sorry for stealing the light in your eyes.

You don't grow the courage to say it out loud.

No Eun Ha remains smiling. You notice that the edges of her lips curl higher and higher until the smile begins to look unsettling and sinister. Then you see the skin on her cheek tear apart as her smile grows and grows. Blood drips down slowly to her neck and stains the top part of her dress. She opens her mouth into an inhumane size and you see a thousand razor-sharp teeth lining up inside it. Everything is a gory red.

You scream in absolute terror.

She says your name again, her voice this time is not as gentle as you remember.

You wake up screaming and in cold sweat. You fall from your bed and onto the floor on all fours and begin vomiting your guts out. Nothing comes up. Only saliva. You break into pathetic sobs on the floor. Terror is a familiar feeling but you will never ever get used to it.

You don't know how many hours have passed. The floor used to feel cool against your skin but now, it's never been warmer. You still don't possess the strength to leave the floor. Your body feels as if it's being anchored down giant stones.

You're exhausted. You’ve done nothing but you feel exhausted.

You want to run.

You want to run away from this pain and exhaustion.

You need a life where you're no longer exhausted.

Desperately.

A sudden shriek interrupts the silence that wraps the air. A woman's. You don't even flinch. You know it’s just Jinnie. She's the only one who has access to another keycard of your hotel room.

When Lando’s panicking face comes into view, you are shocked. So shocked that you involuntarily raise your arms and accidentally hit him below his jaw. He stumbles backwards, not expecting the blow. He let out a pained groan, hand clutching the area you hit. You quickly rise to your feet, a thousand apologies already on the tip of your tongue. This action, however, triggers a wave of vertigo. Your vision blackens temporarily, your knees giving out at your own weight. Reflexively, you grab hold of the nearest thing beside you, the mattress to soften your fall, before your shaking knees meet the floor.

“[Name]!” Lando’s voice is so loud, you flinch.

When your vision returns, his face is the first thing you see.

“Good morning,” your voice is flat and rough.

Lando hisses and his large hands cradle your cheeks. You're suddenly made aware of how large his hands are. They can cover your entire face with how big they are.

“You're pale,” his voice wobbles. “Shit.”

You want to pass out again. His hands feel so, so comfortable and so, so warm that you want to sleep with this feeling.

“Hey, hey, don't close your eyes. [Name]—” Lando hands move swiftly. One second he’s holding your face. The next second he’s lifting you up in his arms. “Jinnie, call an ambulance!”

The word “ambulance” causes you to wake up. Like really wake up.

Oh, shit.

You struggle in Lando’s arms, “Andwae! No ambulance!”

You pry yourself away from Lando, hopping down to the floor, but the man doesn't retract his hands completely. He still holds onto your forearms to support you as you try to stand.

“No. Just no. I’m fine.”

“[Name]!” Jinnie scolds. She's finally functioning again. She froze in shock when she saw you earlier.

“I’m fine!” you shout. “I’m fine! Really!”

When you get caught that you're weak, you retaliate.

You grit your teeth and clench your jaw.

“I’m. Fine.”

They don’t believe you. You can see it in their eyes. However, they're not going to argue with you. You know they won't.

“I’m going to shower,” you announce. Lando’s grip on your forearm tightens just as you pivot your heels to head to the bathroom.

“I think it's best if you stay today.”

“We all agreed that I’m going to be in the paddock from the practice sessions until the race night.”

“I’ll tell the PR team that you won't go today.”

Your brows furrow.

“Just… Rest for today, okay?”

You turn quiet. Hesitantly, you nod.

“Thanks.”

He turns to Jinnie and tells her, “Take care of her for me. I’ll visit after the qualifying.”

And like that, Lando Norris leaves the hotel room.

[cranberrymoons]

howdy sailor

prompt: closet (discord drabble)

Steve’s laying on the couch, half-heartedly watching some episode of some show he’s seen something like a hundred times at this point, which he’s only really half paying attention to, when his phone chimes. He glances down, tabs over to the app.

howdy sailor

He smiles. The photo of him in his Halloween costume from a couple years ago, which Robin had all but forced him to include on his profile.

I think it’s actually supposed to be “ahoy” 

The bubble of the guy's reply appears, then disappears, then reappears, then:

hi ahoy, i’m eddie

Steve laughs in spite of himself, sitting up straighter on the couch.

I'm Steve

He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip as he stares at the screen, waiting for the response. It doesn't come right away, and he flips over to the guy's profile, swiping through his photos. He's good looking and tall, with dark hair and dark clothes and dark painted nails and a dark pair of boots that he's wearing in every photo except one, in which he's standing on a beach in a tiny... tiny pair of bright red shorts.

Steve stares, opens the photo, zooms in... He gets another message and flips back over to the conversation, and –

sailor steve, please lie and tell me you're wearing that costume right now

Steve raises his eyebrows. He probably still has it somewhere, but –

Only if you lie and tell me you're wearing the swim shorts

There's a brief pause, then,

deal. want to meet on the high seas for a drink, i'll bring the life preservers?

Steve smiles to himself, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he considers. He glances back up at the TV, then at the time on his phone. It's only 6 o clock. It's not like he's got anything better going on tonight. Maybe just one?

Yes to a drink... but let's start off on land first before we set sail?

It's – is it too cheesy? It's definitely too cheesy.

He almost deletes it, then he glances back up at the start of their conversation, which literally began with a dad joke, and – he hits send.

—

An hour later, he's in a bar listening to the hottest man he's ever seen talk passionately about... dragons? Elves?

Something, something, he has no idea, but – he might have to dig that costume out of the back of his closet after all.

[also on ao3]