#if you see this post and you’re not feeling great:

[norrisainz33]

new beginning || ln4

☆ summary: y/n is in the cursed second red bull seat but finds the opportunity to thrive in indy car

☆ pairing: ln4 x racingdriver!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none and hate comments

☆ requested: yes!! thank you for the request 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

redbullracing has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, mclarenf1, yourbff, user4, user5, and 765,249 others

redbullracing: a dominate race from max here in qatar! only one race to go in the 2024 season

view all 873 comments

user1: glad to see max back on top

user2: y/n has the worst luck i feel so bad for her

user6: y/n has so much more potential than this

user8: being max’s teammate is not easy

user3: get y/n off this team

user5: we are losing the wcc bc of y/n

user2: oh don’t be so dramatic

user4: super max back again

ynuser has posted a story

view all story replies

patriciooward: ohhhh you two are getting real cozy over there

ynuser: maybeeee mr nosey

patriciooward: just looking out for mi amiga is all - be careful with him

ynuser: gracias mi amigo. lando is a good guy

patriciooward: he is and i know that. i just love you like my dear sister

ynuser: and i love you patito

user5: maybe instead of spending so much time with lando you could be learning how to drive

landonorris: diva DOWN

ynuser: this diva is up not down

landonorris: yeah you right. i am on a high after seeing you

ynuser: 🥹 smooth

landonorris: trying

user6: oh he’s a cutie

maxverstappen1: tea

ynuser: subtle but yes

josefnewgarden: 👀

ynuser: 🫣

user7: are yall together or

f1 has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user8, user4, user5, and 453,139 others

f1: BREAKING 🚨 y/n y/l/n and red bull have reached an agreement to part ways for 2024. this comes after a tough season for y/n who has had her fair share of struggles. we can also confirm that y/n has signed to drive for Arrow McLaren for the 2024 indy car season. we wish her the best of luck in her next endeavor!

view all 423 comments

user5: it’s about time!

user2: she’s gonna thrive in indy car i just know it

patriciooward: to new beginnings with my best friend as my teammate 🧡

user33: i love this friendship so much

redbullracing: thank you ynuser

user2: that’s really all you have to say?

user3: good riddance

arrowmclaren: welcome home ynuser

user12: wishing y/n nothing but the best. everyone should watch indy car it’s going to be so much fun with her this season!!!

ynuser has made a post

liked by patriciooward, landonorris, arrowmclaren, maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, and 634,984 other

ynuser: its been a while. back to remind you that the indy car season starts this weekend in st. pete 🤍

view all 325 comments

user2: she’s back!! i missed you y/n

patriciooward: let’s go teammate

ynuser: my teammate and mi hermano 🧡

maxverstappen1: can’t wait to watch you this weekend

ynuser: i miss you so dearly. can’t wait to see you

user21: omg is max going to st pete?????

user11: cant wait to get into indy car this season

landonorris: where are my pic creds

ynuser: thanks for the ocean pics!

landonorris: 🙄🙄 you’re welcome

user7: they’re together!?? he took the pic in the second slide???? omg

elbaoward: my babieeeessssssss

ynuser: my lovey 😘

arrowmclaren: our favorite papaya girly 🧡

ynuser: 🤍🧡🤍🧡

user13: y/n crumbs!!! i’ve been waiting for this

arrowmclaren has made a post

liked by ynuser, landonorris, maxverstappen1, yourbff, elbaoward, lance_stroll, and 438,120 others

arrowmclaren: an incredible first weekend back in st. petersburg! p1 for our girl y/n with a great result from pato and nolan.

view all 416 comments

elbaoward: i am so proud

patriciooward: me too

ynuser: don’t make me cry more 🥹

user19: my favorite sibling (not really) trio

user2: i’ve never cried so much watching a race in my life. i am so proud of y/n

ynuser: an incredible weekend. thank you for believing in me 🧡

arrowmclaren: we are so proud of you y/n

user44: see this is how you treat your drivers redbullracing

landonorris: incredible work ynuser

ynuser: thank you my muppet 🤍

user18: this season is going to be the best season for us i just know it

maxverstappen1: that’s my girl

ynuser: my bestie 🥹🥹

user22: i’m so glad y/n is here in indy car

user43: y/n and mclaren championships incoming

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, and 12,967 others

f1gossip: lando norris and max verstappen have been spotted at the st. petersburg indy car grand prix to show their support of ex-f1 driver, y/n y/l/n, as she makes her debut. it’s been rumored for months that lando and y/n are more than just friends and after y/n’s p1 finish it’s all but confirmed. following the race, y/n got out of her car and ran directly into lando’s arms giving him a rather passionate kiss

view all 198 comments

user2: best news i’ve seen all day

user20: them flying out to florida to be there for y/n days before they have to be in australia is so dear to me

user33: they are two of the best friends anyone could ask for

user32: indy car is the perfect home for y/n

user67: the love those two have for y/n speaks volumes about her as a person

user21: i’m so proud of her 🥹😭

ynuser has made a post

liked by landonorris, patriciooward, maxverstappen1, arrowmclaren, oscarpiastri, and 765,928 others

ynuser: i can’t describe how incredible these first few races with arrow mclaren have been. in these first 5 races, i haven’t placed outside of the podium and i can’t even begin to explain how proud i am of myself and of this incredible team. thank you to everyone who has cheered me on through the ups and downs - i love you all. next up, the indy 500. (p.s. yes that is lando)

view all 529 comments

user2: she found her home 🧡

maxverstappen1: you are a superstar ynuser

ynuser: that’s you max

user89: the most impressive career turn around i’ve ever seen

landonorris: proud of you my love

ynuser: thank you 2025 wdc

landonorris: don’t jinx me

ynuser: i wouldn’t dare

user2: she can say these things now that she’s not on rbr lfg

patriciooward: you’re making me look bad (jk i adore you and want nothing but success for you)

ynuser: impossible to make you look bad when you’re one of the most talented drivers out there 🤍

user99: landoy/n supremacy! him making time to see her race is everything!!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[flowerstheoracle]

I’ve seen this post a few times. I need a similar type of spinal fusion (myelopathy at C5 & C6 + L4 & L5 collapses & spinal *cord* repair procedures needed near C5 and again below L2), but am ineligible because of other health conditions making surgery too great of a risk, so I live with the pre-procedural pain permanently along with the progressive spinal cord injury that will slowly paralyze me over my lifetime.

Luigi is alleged to have done this. I am in no way assuming his responsibility in what occurred on December 4th. That being said— this type of pain absolutely can shape your perceptions about not just the quality of your life, but the quality of life of anyone who is a chronic care patient. When we are routinely denied access to pain management, are delayed procedures until we’re “sick enough”, denied any newer or less-invasive procedures that are granted to people who can afford them— it’s very easy to see yourself as suffering, and then realize you are one of millions who are suffering just as much or even worse. Especially when you’re young and realizing you have a lifetime, however long that might be, ahead of you suffering, that can change how you weigh consequences.

Perspective plus unyielding pain can be a huge motivator to do things you would not have if you didn’t feel painted into a corner.

on a more serious note, I think it's important to consider the uhc ceo shooter's twitter seems to indicate he suffered from severe chronic pain and this is likely a big contributor to his actions

[thargelalia]

Jason Todd headcanon alert 🚨

*taps mic, and clears throat*

Okay okay so, I’ve seen some people on here saying Jason probably uses 3 in 1 shampoo conditioner body wash, and I actually agree.

BUT as a latina I got somethings to say!

I won’t even address the comments I saw saying that he doesn’t shower regularly because that’s just insane btw. At least when it comes to the way I imagine him.

Obviously I try to make my reader as neutral as possible in terms of ethnicity and stuff but bitch I’m sure as hell incorporating our overall cultural aspect of always being clean and smelling like heaven alright lmao 💅✨

Smelling great has gotta be like one of the biggest aphrodisiacs in the world idc what anybody says. Being clean and smelling good is POWER babes!!!

That being said:

If Jason starts dating a girl like that, the minute she spots that product on his bathroom shelf, it’s 👏 going 👏 away 👏

He may protest at first, saying it’s practical, and that he’s been doing that for years etc, but the death glare he receives will shut him up completely.

Besides proper shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, I see him incorporating good smelling body lotion, and post-shave balm for example.

With time, he also sees your commitment with skincare (again, nothing too crazy), and gets convinced to adopt a 3 steps routine too (face wash, moisturizer, sunscreen). Ofc he’ll forget about it in the beginning and whenever he’s exhausted from patrol or his missions. But you’re always there to gently remind him or do it for him.

He also applies a thicker facial cream to his face on Winter, and relishes on the fact that his face stops cracking.

You might convince him to try on a face mask with you on a lazy Saturday night. It’s domestic and another way to bond as well.

Aside from abolishing the 3 in 1 horrid thing, you wouldn’t really push him into doing anything else. It’d be mere suggestions accompanied by an extra sweet smile.

Ultimately, Jason doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. Even if you insist. If it doesn’t make sense to him, he won’t do it.

However, he’s actually as open to listen to your ideas and opinions as you are to his.

And that’s how he gets convinced, and starts incorporating these things into his life.

His skin and hair actually look better, hence he feels better about himself too. It’s an act of self care. One he’s never actually had the luxury to have or think about.

Besides, he loves how wonderful you smell with sweetened and fresh scents, making him wanna bite you all over just to get a taste of the supple skin.

So why wouldn’t he want to mirror that as well? He sees that it’s worth it when you just can’t stop smelling him, praising him, and returning his bites with just as much eagerness. This man purrs alright!!!

And listen, he’s a manly man, but fortunately not one to have a fragile masculinity in any way. So this isn’t an issue for him.

You’re there to help him when he needs it, making sure he feels comfortable, and respecting his boundaries at all times <3

Overall, I just think as your relationship progressed you’ve incorporated and exchanged a lot of things between each other, and I’m excited to share some other examples in the near future.

thanks for reading this, and let me know your thoughts!

if you disagree feel free to do so in your head (just kiddin’!! maybe!) <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: He is a baby, we know it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You were married with a bouquet of sunflowers. Your mother hated them. You didn’t care. Nothing about your wedding was typical or traditional. Just in the backyard with a belly full of Josephine already growing. 

You have a similar bunch of yellow petals in hand that day. As you come to the headstone, you see a bottle cap on the corner. Joey must have come before she left town and had a soda with dad, like old times. You lay the flowers down and groan as you lower yourself to the grass. 

“Hey honey,” you rub your hips, “ugh, getting old sucks.” You sigh and stare at the letters of your husband’s name. “Wish you were around to realise that.” 

You laugh sardonically as a tingle of tears threatens behind your eyes. You sniff but don’t let them free. You still cry for him but now isn’t the time. It was easier to let it all out when he was around to make you laugh. 

“So, did Joey tell you everything? She always gave you more secrets than me. Did she tell you about the girl? Of course she did,” you tut and shake your head. “She won’t even tell me her name.” You look down and twist the blades of grass together. “You would be proud. I know you are. She’s going to be a lawyer.” 

You quiet and let the silence mull. You flick the tips of the green blades and let out another heave. You don’t want to ruin the visit by talking about work. 

“You remember when she decided to show up? I didn’t even know my water broke and you went and slipped in it...” you pause and touch your eyes. Stop. “And the grocery store thought you were going to sue.”

You cackle through the wall of tears, threatening to topple. I had to drive to the hospital because you couldn’t sit or stand straight.” You click your tongue as you remember, “but you were there. You say in that wheel chair and shared my pain. And my joy.” 

Your cheeks wet and you curse your heart. 

“She’s a great girl. No, a great woman. I love her so much,” you mop your face with your sleeves. “I love you.” 

A breeze stirs and ruffles the long petals of the sunflowers. You stare at the brown centres. You’re back standing in the backyard, his hand around yours... Then it’s gone and you’re back in the dirt. 

You sit a little longer. The first year after the funeral, you didn’t come back. You couldn’t. Then it got easier. It was a comfort, not a fear.  

“Well, you know, I'll be back. I always needed you around to keep me accountable, huh,” you get to your knees and your lower back buckles. “I wish you were here to tease me and call me old. My back.” 

You stand and stretch. You touch a kiss to your fingers and touch the headstone. “See ya round, stud.” 

You take your time leaving. The cemetery is beautiful, contrary to its purpose. The grass is green and well kempt, the stones are lined up perfectly, and the paved walkways wind through like a fairytale road. 

You come to the gates and feel the void return. Right there in your chest. You exhale and face the world. Alone. 

You dig in your purse, looking down as you fight to untangle your keys from the cheap wired earbuds you use for your walks. You lift your chin as you come up to your car and stop short. You barely keep a frown from creasing your face. 

Nick leans on your car, arms crossed, watching your approach. How did he find you? Maybe you should have checked your phone. 

“I called,” he says. 

“Sorry, sir, I was busy,” you shrug. He doesn’t seem impressed as his cheeks dimple. 

“Your contract is on-call,” he insists. 

You take another breath. Why is he here? You don’t get how he found you. Well, didn’t he say that’s part of his job? He can know everything if he wants. 

“You dismissed me, sir, so I thought--” 

“I didn’t fire you. I was out of town,” he pushes his shoulders wider. 

“Understood. I’ll go right over--” 

“Did I ask you to?” He unfolds one arm and shows his palm. 

You shake your head. He’s still in a mood. You’ll let him get it out. You do not good assuming his intentions. 

“So, who were we visiting?” He asks. You wince. 

“Sir,” you answer bluntly. 

He huffs, “fine. Doesn’t matter. I don’t got time to argue with a maid.” 

So why are you here? The retort is bitter as it stays on your tongue. You’re not easily flustered, you do your best not to get annoyed, but he’s managed to tweak your nerves. 

“I have a thing. Need a suit.” 

“I brought clean ones the other day, sir--” 

“New suit. It’s work. Big guys are gonna be there.” 

You don’t mention that his last ‘work event’ unfolded like a frat party. It’s not use arguing. You just need to do your job and then you can go home. Just be grateful you aren’t sprucing up your resume. 

“Right. Where would--” 

“There’s a place down the block. You have an eye for detail.” He interject. 

“Oh, okay, sir. I’ll go get you a suit--” 

“You’ll come with me,” he stands straight, dropping his arms. 

“Yes, sir,” you shove your keys back in your purse. 

He stares at you for a moment before he moves. He pivots on one sole and you follow after him. He keeps a lazy pace so you catch up. You walk in silence. 

You glimpse the tailor’s shop. The windows display a group of mannequins dressed in varying states of  work casual to formal. A particularly svelte female form wears a satiny silver gown with a slit to the thigh. 

He steps ahead of you and opens the door. He waits for you to go ahead of him. As he follows, you feel a brush against you and quickly move out of his way. A man with a groomed mustache greets you from behind the counter. 

“Sir, Madame,” he sweeps around in a three-piece suit, the vest cute in elaborate floral, “how can I help you today?” 

“A suit. Work dinner. Black tie.” Nick states. 

“Of course, short notice?” The man asks. 

“Tonight.” 

“Ah, we can meet that deadline, for a fee.” 

“I’m not worried about cost,” Nick turns and browses the mannequin nearest him. “And my date will need something to wear.” 

You stand as you are, glancing around in disinterest. As you turn back, you find the tailor staring at you. Nick continues to peruse the selection. 

“Who’s your date, sir?” You ask, thinking it might be the woman from the other morning. 

His brows arch as he looks at you, “she’ll need her measurements.” He flicks his fingers in a lazy point. You blink and shake your head. You? 

“Of course, madame, would you prefer the privacy of a fitting room?” 

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need all that,” you insist. “I have dresses at home.” Buried somewhere in your closet. 

“You do,” Nick insists as he feels a brocade jacket between his thumb and index. 

“Um,” you peer around. You can’t afford any of this. “I could give you my size,” you offer the man. 

“Go with him.” Nick commands, “stop trying to control everything.” 

“Sir?” You look at him in desperate confusion, “I could call that woman--” 

“I don’t need some ditzy barbie, I need someone with maturity,” he sniffs. 

Ah. That’s it. No, that’s not it. It doesn’t make sense. Mature? Sure, but a bit over the hill. 

“Go,” he snips. 

You don’t chance another act of resistance. It’s not in your contract but you’re not worried about the terms and conditions in that moment. You’re worried about a paycheck and keeping your daughter in college. You can’t let her down. Or your husband. 

You follow the man around the counter as he takes you the women’s section. He walks you along a rack and stops to consider you. He smiles and curls the tip of his mustache. 

“You have beautiful colouring,” he praises. That’s sweet. You’re sure he can’t think of anything else to compliment. You’re not built like one of his dress forms. “A plum would look marvelous.” 

He turns and reaches to pull a swath of fabric forward, the hangers clacking together. He shows you the chiffon eagerly. You examine it with dread. It will show all your lumps and bumps. 

“Do you have anything... thicker? Stiffer?” You wonder. “I do like that colour.” 

Are you really going along with this? You glance over your shoulder as the tailor searches the rack. Nick’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head. You stare back for just a moment before he turns to look at his reflection and tug on the lapels of the shiny blue jacket. 

You know what he’s doing. He’s making a point. You overstepped in some way and he’s putting you in your place. He’s showing you that he can make your job harder. He can make you work. Any way he wishes. And he knows, you need the job. 

You understand all the questions now. He was getting leverage. He was doing reconnaissance. 

This will be a lesson. A reminder for you. After tonight, you will know you are just the maid. You will know where you belong. A worn out old woman sweeping in the shadows. 

“Madame, it is velvet,” the tailor draws your attention back to him as he shows you the gown. You can’t see much of the detail but the fabric will bolster you better. 

“I’ll try it,” you agree. 

“Bonne,” he remarks in French. He is an eccentric character. 

He leads you around to the fitting rooms. He hangs the dress for you and steps out to let you shut yourself in. You can’t remember the last time you went dress shopping. There’s not need for it. 

You figure out how to step into the dress. It’s tea length, just above your ankles. You don’t mind the length but oh, the top. You’re about to spill right out. The deep vee shows quite a bit of cleavage, the small strap holding it together rather precarious as your tits swell out. And the back is almost entirely exposed. 

“Madame, are you well?” The tailor calls through. 

“Uh, I think a different neckline--” 

“Get out here,” Nick demands curtly. 

You cringe and look at your reflection. Jesus. This is the lesson here. The humiliation. You are beneath him. 

You face the door and steel yourself. You push back the latch and ease open the door. You step out, keeping your chin set and your gaze distant. 

“Oh, madame, that is wonderful on your figure,” the tailor steps forward, “and it fits you...” he gives a smooch to his fingers. “Look at the hips, sir.” 

Your cheeks burn and you dare to look at Nick. You’re mortified to find him staring back, exactly where the tailor emphasizes your curves. His brows draw up thoughtfully and he tilts his head. You want to cover the vee down your chest as his gaze creeps up. 

“Hm,” Nick hums. “put it on the bill.” 

[charlesslut16]

-please be mine-

summary : george wants you both toegther but you have something with lando

PAIRINGS : george russell x fem!reader (ft. lando)

WARNINGS : none

note : I hope that you will like this!

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

It all started with a late-night text. A casual one. The kind that didn’t feel significant at first but would eventually turn into a complicated mess.

You and Lando had always gotten along. You met through mutual friends, and from the start, there was undeniable chemistry between you two. He was fun, spontaneous, and always had a way of making you laugh, something you always appreciated.

It wasn’t long before your friendship evolved into something more—a slow, steady build that had both of you wondering if there was something deeper, or if it was just a fleeting moment.

It had been a few months of seeing each other, and everything seemed to be going well. You had great moments together—late-night talks, silly adventures, even the quiet moments when you both just sat on the couch watching movies and enjoying each other’s company. It felt natural, easy.

But then, everything changed.

The first hint came when you saw a post from Lando on his social media: a picture of the two of you at a party, your heads close together, laughing at something that only you two understood. It was innocent enough. Just a picture. But then came the caption: “My favorite person.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the post. You hadn’t realized how much you liked him until that moment. The feeling was mutual; it wasn’t just a passing fling. Lando made you feel special, and seeing that made your heart race.

But as the days passed, that picture went from being a sweet, innocent reminder of a great night to a topic of heated discussion among his fans. The comments section blew up with fans speculating about the two of you—wondering if you were a couple or just friends.

People were talking, and not all of it was positive. Some fans thought you were the perfect match, while others were relentless in criticizing you.

It didn’t help that Lando was a big name in the racing world, and everything he did was under a microscope. You were dragged into the spotlight, your personal life being dissected by strangers. And while you tried not to let it get to you, it did.

After some time, Lando’s posts continued. There were moments where you both seemed happy, but there were also moments of tension.

You weren’t the only one who noticed how things felt different. In fact, George—Lando’s best friend and your other close friend—seemed to notice as well.

George had been a constant presence in your life since you met him. You got along so well. He was the kind of guy who would always have your back, the one who knew how to make you feel better when you were upset. He was different from Lando—calmer, more grounded—but somehow, his friendship had become just as important to you.

One evening, after another exhausting day of reading social media comments and dealing with the pressure of your relationship with Lando, you found yourself at a bar with George.

You didn’t feel like going home just yet, so George had suggested grabbing a drink. It was one of those rare nights where the two of you could just be yourselves—no cameras, no social media, no pressure. Just two friends who were there for each other.

“So,” George said, leaning against the bar, his gaze fixed on you. “How are you holding up?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Honestly? It’s been a lot. I’m trying not to let it get to me, but it’s hard. People have so many opinions. I can’t even go online without seeing comments about Lando and me.”

“I know what you mean,” George said, his voice soft. “I see it too. And I don’t like it. You don’t deserve that. No one should be judging your relationship, especially when you’re just trying to figure things out.”

You smiled weakly, grateful for his understanding. “Thanks, George. I know you get it. You’ve always been the one I can count on.”

He gave a small smile back, but there was something different in his eyes tonight. Something you couldn’t quite place. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you the way you deserve. You shouldn’t have to deal with all the pressure and judgment, especially not from fans.”

You furrowed your brow, unsure where he was going with this. “What do you mean?”

George shifted, taking a step closer. He wasn’t usually this serious. Usually, he was cracking jokes, teasing you, but tonight he seemed… well, different. “I’m not talking about Lando. I’m talking about you. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are. Not for who they want you to be.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, searching for the meaning behind his words. “George, what are you saying?”

George looked down at the bar for a moment, as if gathering the courage to speak. When his eyes met yours again, they were filled with something you hadn’t expected: sincerity.

“I’ve been feeling this way for a while now, and I think you deserve to know. I don’t want you to feel pressured by anyone, not Lando, not the fans, and certainly not by your own feelings. I think… I think I’ve always cared about you more than just as a friend.”

You were silent, your mind racing. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. George—your best friend, someone you trusted—had feelings for you that went beyond friendship. He had never hinted at it before, and now you were left trying to process everything in the heat of the moment.

“George, I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered. Your heart felt like it was beating in your throat.

George gave a small, nervous laugh. “I know this is a lot, and I didn’t want to put this on you. But I couldn’t keep pretending that I wasn’t feeling this way. You’re important to me. I care about you. And I know you’re with Lando, but if you ever feel like you want something more real, something less complicated, I’m here.”

You felt a pang in your chest. You never expected George to confess his feelings for you. He was your best friend, your confidant, the person who always made you feel better when everything felt like it was falling apart. And now he was telling you he had feelings for you, feelings that went beyond the friendship you had shared for so long.

“I don’t want to hurt you, George,” you said softly, feeling a mix of emotions. “I care about you so much, but… I’ve already started something with Lando. I don’t want to throw that all away.”

George nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “I get it. I really do. I just didn’t want you to think that I’m okay with you being treated like this, especially by Lando. You deserve better than that.”

His words stung, but there was truth in them. You and Lando had been trying to figure things out, but the pressure from the outside world was unbearable.

It wasn’t just the fans—it was everything. The constant feeling of being scrutinized, the constant wondering if things would last, the pressure to be perfect in front of everyone. Maybe George was right. Maybe you didn’t deserve to feel like you were constantly on edge.

That night, you couldn’t stop thinking about George’s confession. The more you thought about it, the more you realized how much you valued him—not just as a friend, but as someone who cared for you deeply. He had always been there, and now, for the first time, he had opened up to you in a way that was both vulnerable and raw.

A few days later, you and Lando had a conversation that would change everything.

“You’ve been distant lately,” Lando said, his voice quieter than usual. “I thought we were good. What’s going on?”

You sighed, staring at him. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling conflicted. The pressure from the fans, from everything… it’s just too much. And I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

Lando was silent for a moment, his expression hard to read. “You’re saying you’re not happy?”

“I’m saying I need a break,” you admitted, the words feeling like a weight lifting off your chest. “I need to figure things out for myself.”

It was one of the hardest things you’d ever done, but it was also the most honest. You and Lando had something special, but the pressure was taking a toll on both of you. It wasn’t fair to either of you to continue down a path that wasn’t working.

After your conversation with Lando, you found yourself reaching out to George. He had been patient, waiting for you to figure things out. And now, you needed him more than ever.

You met him at the same bar a week later, this time with no distractions, no other pressures. Just the two of you.

“I’ve been thinking,” you started, your voice shaky. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I think I owe it to myself, and to you, to be honest. I want to be with you, George. I’ve been trying to deny it, but it’s clear to me now.”

George’s eyes widened, and his lips curved into the smallest of smiles. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I’m sure.”

And just like that, everything changed. You and George were no longer just best friends. You were more. You were everything.

And as you sat there, with his hand in yours and a world of possibilities ahead of you, you knew one thing for sure: it was the beginning of something real.

You and George shared a few moments in silence, his hand warm and steady in yours, as if to ground you both in that moment. It wasn’t rushed, and it wasn’t filled with grand declarations.

It was simple and real—the kind of connection that didn’t need fireworks to be special. Just the two of you, standing on the precipice of something new.

George finally spoke, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “I’ve waited for you to figure this out. I didn’t want to push you or make things harder. I just… I care about you, so much. More than you know.”

You looked at him, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper welling up inside you. You’d always known George cared. He was always there when you needed him, always offering a listening ear, his support unconditional.

But hearing him say it out loud made something in your chest tighten, in the best way possible. Maybe you had been too caught up in the whirlwind of your feelings for Lando, too distracted by what people thought to truly see how deep your bond with George ran.

“I care about you too, more than I realized,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the truth in those words, deep in your heart. “And I’ve been scared to admit it. Scared that I was messing everything up, or that you might not feel the same way.”

George smiled, and there was that familiar twinkle in his eyes—the same one you had always seen when he was happy, the same one that made your heart skip every time you saw it. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m here, always.”

His words were a balm for the fears that had been bubbling under the surface, fears that you had been ignoring because you didn’t want to confront them. But now, with George’s confession and your own admission, everything felt lighter. No more pressure, no more wondering. Just honesty between the two of you.

You took a deep breath and, without thinking, closed the small gap between you, leaning in slowly. The air between you was electric, but you didn’t rush it. George leaned in too, his lips brushing yours gently, testing the waters. It wasn’t a forceful kiss—it was soft, careful, but it carried all the emotion that had been building for so long.

When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel his heartbeat matching yours. You smiled up at him, a little breathless, but undeniably happy. “I’m glad it’s you,” you murmured, your voice tinged with a quiet, contentedness.

“Me too,” George whispered back, his lips curving into a smile that was as wide as it was genuine. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You leaned into him then, closing your eyes, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The uncertainty of the past few months—the constant scrutiny, the confusion, the emotional rollercoaster—began to fade away. There was only now. Only George. And that was enough.

The weeks that followed felt like a new chapter of your life, one that you had been too afraid to open before. You and George navigated this new dynamic with ease, supporting each other as you always had, but now with the added layer of something more.

You could see the genuine joy in his eyes when he looked at you, and you felt the same warmth radiating from him every time you caught him staring at you, lost in thought.

Your friends noticed the change too. They saw how much happier you were, how you glowed when you were with George. Even Lando seemed to sense that things had shifted, though you hadn’t had much contact with him since that difficult conversation. It was clear to you now that your heart had always belonged with George, even if it had taken time to realize it.

And on one crisp winter evening, a few days before Christmas, George invited you over for a cozy night at his apartment. The atmosphere felt perfect—warm lights, soft music, and the smell of homemade dinner filling the air. It was the kind of evening you had always imagined, but it felt even better now that it was happening with him.

After dinner, the two of you settled onto the couch, a comfortable silence enveloping you both. You had learned to cherish these moments with George—the quiet ones, where words didn’t need to be spoken for everything to feel right.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about?” George asked, his voice breaking the stillness.

“What’s that?” you asked, glancing over at him.

He smiled, a little nervous but excited, “I’ve been thinking about how we’re going to spend next Christmas. I know it’s a bit early, but I was thinking... maybe we could do something just the two of us next year. A getaway, or just a quiet time at home. Whatever we want, really. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.”

Your heart melted at the thought of a future with him. Of you and George making your own traditions, building your own memories. You had never thought much about the future until now, but now that you were with him, it all seemed so clear. “I love that idea,” you said, your voice full of affection. “I’d love to spend next Christmas with you. And all the Christmases after that.”

George’s smile widened, and he pulled you closer, resting his head on top of yours as you both snuggled under a warm blanket. The fire crackled softly in the background, and you found yourself lost in the comfort of his presence. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

And when the clock struck midnight, marking the beginning of Christmas Eve, George kissed your forehead and whispered, “Merry Christmas, love. I’m so glad you’re mine.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you responded softly, “Merry Christmas, George. I’m glad you’re mine too.”

The following year, you kept the promise you made to each other. Next Christmas, the two of you spent the holidays together—whether it was cooking breakfast in your pajamas or walking through the streets with snowflakes falling around you, everything felt like it was falling into place.

You had everything you needed right there with you. And, as George always said, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

In the end, your story wasn’t defined by the pressure of the public eye or the expectations placed on your relationship. It was about the quiet moments. The moments that made you both realize that sometimes, the right person had been there all along, waiting for you to see them for who they truly were.

George was always the one who had been by your side, always the one who made you feel understood and valued. And now, as you spent Christmas Eve wrapped in his arms, you knew there was nothing more you could ever ask for.

"Please be mine," George had whispered, and now, it was no longer a question. It was a promise.

And you’d made that promise to each other forever.

[criticalcrusherbot]

💁🏽‍♀️🤖: This post hits on so many crucial points, and it’s such a great reminder of where Stolas is emotionally and narratively right now. The fact that Stolas hasn’t started his character journey yet is key—so many fans are judging him like he should already be at the finish line when, in reality, his arc is only beginning to unfold. The show has been focusing on Blitz’s journey, which is why Stolas’s development is still in its infancy. And honestly, that’s what makes their dynamic so compelling right now—Blitz has had the time and space to grow, while Stolas is just starting to confront the emotional walls he’s built around himself.

The criticism of Stolas not reciprocating the hug completely overlooks the context. This man is barely holding himself together. He’s overwhelmed by guilt, convinced his daughter hates him, and trying to figure out how to function without his antidepressants—all while navigating feelings for someone who’s showing him real care and affection for possibly the first time in his life. Of course he doesn’t know how to respond! Stolas has spent his entire life mistaking fantasy for emotional fulfillment, and now that he’s being confronted with genuine intimacy, he’s frozen. It’s not a rejection of Blitz—it’s a reflection of how much Stolas needs to grow before he can even begin to reciprocate.

And let’s not forget the backlash against Blitz’s so-called “sudden characterization shift,” which isn’t sudden at all. What we’re seeing is the culmination of his recent growth—he’s gone from being a complete emotional disaster to someone who’s beginning to understand what healthy emotional support looks like. Blitz has been through so much, and his willingness to show patience and care for Stolas demonstrates how far he’s come in his own journey. If anything, this is a testament to the depth of his character development.

This is where the “fandom-forward” nature of the show comes into play. As we’ve said in other analyses, this isn’t a show where you say, “the characters would never act like that.” Instead, you have to ask, “why are the characters reacting to their circumstances like that?” Stolas and Blitz are both reacting to their unique traumas and histories, and their actions make perfect sense within the context of their experiences. If you’re not willing to engage with the characters on that level, you’re just setting yourself up for frustration.

Patience is everything here. Stolas isn’t “fixed” yet, and that’s the point. His journey is going to take time, and that time is what will make his eventual growth feel earned and meaningful. Right now, Blitz is carrying the emotional weight in their dynamic because he’s further along in his development—and that’s okay. The show is asking us to sit with these characters, understand their struggles, and watch as they slowly grow into the people they’re meant to be. If you’re willing to play along, there’s so much richness to appreciate in the storytelling.

Kinda disturbs me the discourse on Stolas not reciprocating that hug, did y'all forget that Stolas is genuinely convinced his daughter hates him and he has a lot to process in general?

Stolas has yet to start his character journey, it has been only one month since the events of Mastermind, and he has been off his antidepressants the entire time.

Aside from the fact that these boys still have a lot to unpack...

Guys, please remember...

Stolas has absolutely NO IDEA on how to react to genuine care and affection, he has never been in a healthy romantic relationship.

Stolas is still very much in the process of letting go of those fantasies of his, and Sinsmas shows that he's just now starting to.

Blitz, despite the mess he was in the beginning of their relationship, IS the more experienced partner. He's been in several relationships, and Blitz himself knows that he is the more experienced of the two.

It's why Blitz's patience is so important right now, especially for Stolas who is still struggling. Blitz knows what Stolas needs right now is his emotional support and nothing else.

It is so important that Blitz doesn't pressure Stolas in anyway shape or form right now.

[liabegins]

so it’s the last day of 2024. honestly it was great, if you don’t look at the last 3 months.

it started amazing, I remembered how much I adore sterek and teen wolf and how much I need to return to my ‘tv shows roots’ (it was the first big series that I watched🥺). I still love my 118 firefam. I got new tattoos, new job, I was in my beloved croatia and the most important, I bought tickets two weeks before the eras tour and I saw taylor swift with my own eyes (still feels unreal to me) 🩵

but then for the last 3 months i’m the most depressed version of me that I remember. I lost my grandma and still don’t know how to function without her, but i’m really trying to get there.

i’m a sappy person, so bear with me. 2024 was my first whole year of being here as Lia. I want to thank you. thank you for your kind words and endless support. thank you for making me smile with your posts and, affectionately, fuck you if you made me cry with them jk jk. thank you for tagging me in tag games or posts (special thanks to boo for tagging me in derek posts, I fucking love you). thank you for amazing arts and gifsets and stories I see here everyday, you’re so talented damn

thank you for making Lia so special for me

I started 2024 with exactly 100 followers and now I’m ending it with almost 3 times more of these beautiful souls 🩵

so shoutout to my lovely moots - my new friends and my old pals who have been here with me since last year!! 🩵

I love you guys so much, i’m sending you virtual friendship bracelets and a lot of hugs mwah mwah. and I hope your 2025 will be good for you and the way you dreamed of!! 🩵

@dirtbagdefender, @oldefashioned, @vanmarkus, @batwynn, @mischiefbuckley, @kiddbegins, @dontcallpanic, @evaneds, @doctorkinney, @tizniz, @oliverljones, @diazpatcher, @jadethhh, @tahelms85, @theoncologistof911dispatch, @cozy-writer, @sterekzankiefeels, @steadfastsaturnsrings, @demonicfaerie, @biscuit-atmidnight, @sterekloverforever, @kinkykinard, @knightlywonders, @rainbow-nerdss, @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming, @stilesstilinskisposts, @deliahale, @constance-dartagnan, @epiaphany, @ohhalefire, @babybucks, @aspecbuddie, @cantofworms, @hulahoo-p, @honestlydarkprincess, @farahmiir, @ddiaz, @cinematics123, @laurenttheninth, @princecharmingwinks, @itallgoestohale, @nekittie, @buckedpotato @usermischief, @perfectlittlesoul and I could probably go like this for a while, so even if you’re not here, you’re amazing and I still love you!!! 🩵

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! 🎉

[pshbites]

🎐 𓍼ֶָ֢⊹ ࣪ ˖ : MY 2O25 SEASON’S GREETINGS ‹𝟹

to pshbites nation : thank you for always supporting my works :( , i love each and every reblog, comment, ask, or follow i get on my posts and i love seeing them. truly it makes my day to see all of the silly comments on my posts and im so glad you guys are here to support me. i am so grateful for how far i’ve gotten with you guys and i hope we can stick it out together 🫶

i hope to put out so many more things for you guys in this coming year so i hope you guys are excited to read it as much as im excited to share it with you guys. never did i think i would open this account this year but im glad i did because in doing so ive met so many great people ive gotten close with and i get to interact with you guys !

to nunu : thank you for it all truly. thank you for pushing me to make this account when i came to you with the love on air plot and even before that thank you for reading any snippets of writing i sent you even tho it was the buttfuck middle of the night for you you still made sure to give me proper feedback and i can’t thank you more. i miss you bad habibti and i know we’re both busy people but im glad i get to talk to you even if it is for little bits of the day. i love you and #nununana4Eva @haedgaf @lqfiles

to my best friends : mars, @chobunz words cannot express how much i love and care for you. i love our stupid texts about anything and i love our deeper conversations even more. i love staying up until 4 in the morning just talking about anything and i love our bond so much. i wouldn’t trade it for the world. lee , @leeechin i love you, so so much. i know i tell you this often but truly i love you. i know sometimes life gets busy but even without talking to you everyday i feel so much closer to you. i love when you pop in just to talk to us and even though we still talk often ill still miss you because im forever attached to the both of you. meeting the two of you has made life on here and in general so much better and im glad we get to start the new year together with one another 🫂🫂 #InDaClerbWeAllFam ☹️

to my close moots : liz @cupidhoons , i didn’t think i would meet someone so similar to me in such a short amount of time but i did and im so glad we’ve met and crossed paths. truly, you’re like a little sister to me and i wont drone on but i love you so much. truly i care for you a lot and i didn’t think i would connect so fast with you but we did and im so happy for that fact. lils @suneng , i love you bad my twinem :((( i enjoy our stupid conversations about whatever the fuck and our convos abt life and i’m so happy we’ve gotten a bit closer this year and i hope we can talk some more. sav @ourhees , i adore you so much, i think you are the sweetest thing ever and i love our conversations even if it does get a bit emotional sometimes. i’m glad im one of the people you can call a friend. i care about you so much and i think you are genuinely so smart and talented, it’s been rough but im glad we met each other and i can sometimes give you peace of mind, i hope we get closer later on. mims @kiss4noo , where to even begin 🫠.. i love and care for you so much. i love our occasional conversations but even then some days i strive to talk to you. we’re both busy people and i respect that so much. i’m glad we can go days without talking and still be as close as ever, you may not think it but i do enjoy being here for you and im glad you’re here for me as well i love you so so much and i wont ever stop. emer @coqhee , i know we don’t talk as often anymore but i hold so much love for you in my heart even if its talking about stupid things or talking about writing or just ourselves. i love hearing about your day you smartie pants so i hope we can talk even more about silly things or just ourselves as always.

to my moots : i’m glad to have met each of you and i’m so happy to see that i am so loved on this app, truly i admire each and every one of you in your own way shape and forms and i wouldn’t trade it for the world. i love you all so so much and im so happy we’re starting the new year as moots and hopefully as closer friends 🫂

some moots i want to get closer with : @flwrstqr @junislqve @tzyunaes @okwonyo @bywons @silquids @mygnolia @jaysng @fairqves @leaderwon

[edenfenixblogs]

I see these tags, and while I understand the point you’re making and that point is correct, I do also think you sort of missed the point of the post. Or at least, partially misinterpreted it. And I don’t say this with malicious intent, but rather as a point of clarification. It’s also very possible that I am the one who misunderstood your tags. But either way, I just want to clarify what I took away from this post:

I don’t think people fall for the scam of tradwife life because they want a life of luxury with zero responsibilities. They want to be tradwives because they WANT to contribute. They WANT the responsibilities of taking care of a family and having the capacity to care for them well.

They just also want to feel taken care of themselves.

And that’s not selfish or childish. It is a glaring failure of the modern system. Patriarchy means that women in relationships with men do often (of course not always) end up doing more of the emotional AND domestic labor. Women in relationships with women mean that both household incomes are impacted by the gender pay gap.

Women who want to earn money and care for their families come home feeling emotionally and physically exhausted, guilty for feeling like they’ve failed their families, and too tired and worried about their perceived domestic failures and obligations that their work suffers.

I feel deeply for women who are drawn to the lie of a tradwife existence because they feel it lowers their sphere of responsibility to a manageable level. They feel that the pursuit of feminism in the past requires subjugating their domestic goals and sacrificing those dreams of family and love in order to pay the bills.

And those are very real issues! We do need to address both equality (e.g. gender pay gap) AND equity (e.g. national maternity leave for new birth parents so that people who have given birth can spend time with their newborns and heal without having to dip into short-term disability—if that’s something that their workplace even allows.).

The issue for so long was allowing women in the workplace to have the same opportunities as man. And in many cases that is still the issue. But in many cases, the issue is also that the same opportunities cannot be equally appreciated or taken by men and women (and other genders), because of limitations placed on women (and other genders) both physically and socially.

For people who work to pay bills and not in pursuit of some great passion (aka most people) they didn’t sign up to make those sacrifices and trades. They just want to care for their loved ones without feeling completely depleted by the effort of affording to do so.

I said this in the tags of that post but a lot (not all but a lot) of the people falling for the tradwife scam are working class women who are just fucking tired. They work long and often unpredictable hours for an income that is barely enough to stay afloat; many of them desperately want to get married, have kids, take a fucking break, etc but they can't with their work hours and income.

They see these tradwife influencers online (many of whom are stealth Mormons) who have these perfect lives, with lovely clothes and beautiful homes and wonderful children. They always look nice and their homes are always pristine and their children are always so well behaved and they always have time to cook elaborate healthy meals, engage in all the "feminine" hobbies like gardening and embroidery, and take 3 hour long bubble baths.

And these influencers fucking lie and say that the reason they can have such "perfect" lives is because they're stay-at-home mothers and they let their husbands handle everything, without ever mentioning the wealth they were born into/married into or the money they make off of affiliate sales and video views. They don't mention any housekeepers or nannies or how their videos are staged ads and not their daily realities.

But people fall for it and they want those picture perfect lives for themselves and could it really be that simple? Could you really make all those financial worries disappear by just marrying well and letting your husband take control? No more crying over bills or having panic attacks in the Walmart bathroom in the middle of your shifts?

And that's not true, the tradwife fantasy is just that: a fantasy with absolutely no basis in reality, based off of decades old propaganda from the mid-20th century that didn't even reflect the realities of the time. But it's a very easy fantasy to become obsessed with when you're trapped in a cycle of financial misery with no end in sight.

[shojosparkle]

Youth - Lee Know x Reader

Tags: Volunteer AU, One-Shot, Bingo Night, Meet Cute, Gender-Neutral Reader, Youth AU, Fluff

Cross-posted on AO3

Word Count: 1,152

Top Gif By: @jasminedtookes

Hosting bingo night at the senior center was one of your favorite activities. While other volunteers scoffed and rolled their eyes mumbling something about it being boring, you were always the first one to add your name to the sign up sheet. You loved seeing everyone so excited, and the anticipation crackling in the room as you called out numbers. Sure, it was technically gambling, but hey who were you to judge what people did in their old age.

It was great for the residents too, they often had too much free time on their hands, letting depression sink in to their weary spirits, but on Bingo night they were sure to brighten up with wide smiles and laughter all around. This bingo night was going to be different though, and it wasn’t just because there was a change in atmosphere.

You, for once, hadn’t been the first to sign up to work Bingo night. One of the new volunteers, Lee Minho if you read his signature correctly, had signed his name in bold letters at the top of the sign up sheet. When you had seen it, your face had lit up, maybe you wouldn’t be the only one who enjoyed bingo night anymore. Besides, any positive company was always welcome in your opinion. You’d turned around to find him and introduce yourself, but not knowing what he looks like, and being in a room full of fellow volunteers, you fell short.

So, here you were, tapping your foot excitedly as you organised boxes and waited for your new partner in crime to show up. The clock seemed to tick slower by the second as you double checked the supplies and realised you were missing a box. Counting again: 1, 2, …., 19; yep you were definitely missing a box. Sighing at the oncoming headache that would definitely be coming your way soon if you could find this box, you turn to make your way out of the room only to feel a flash of pain as you run into something and hit the ground.

Blinking, you realise that it wasn’t so much something as it was someone. A guy your age in fact, he looked a little lost, as if he wasn’t quite sure what all was going on and it finally clicked- this was the guy who must’ve volunteered a head of you. And, by some miracle, he was carrying the same box that you had found was missing from storage.

“Sorry,” you start out as you get up and offer him a hand, “I really didn’t see you there.”

He accepts your hand a little reluctantly, and stands, brushing himself off. “It’s fine,” he assures you, “I couldn’t really see where I was going either.”

That’s right…the box. The box that you had run into and spilled its contents all over the floor. You begin to quickly pick up all the spilled bingo balls, trying to make sure and count that you have all of them as the man in-front of you assists.

“I’m y/n,” you offer as you go back to counting, having realised you hadn’t introduced yourself yet.

“Minho,” the man offers bluntly, more focused on the task at hand than introductions.

That one stung a little, you admit. You had been so excited to meet him and he just seems kind of…bored at your presence. As if you’re inconsequential to him.

“I know,” you smile trying to shake off your anxiety, “I’m usually the first to sign up for Bingo night, so I was surprised to see someone had beat me to it.”

“Hm,” he hums noncommittally, “does no one else want the job or something?”

You snort as you place the last bingo hall back into the box, “Everyone else has other things they’d like to be doing on a Friday night.”

“Not you though,” he points out as he lifts the box onto the nearby table.

“No, not me,” you agree shaking your head slightly amused. His words weren’t mean or offensive, you’d heard worse from the other volunteers countless times. “Not you either,” you tease with a cheerful lilt.

“I guess you have a point,” he concedes and you see the first hint of a smile from him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a breath sounding slightly similar to a laugh to go with it. He’s turned away from you, so you can’t really be sure.

“So,” you start out, leaning on a stack of boxes next to you, “what brings you to Bingo night anyways?”

Finally, he turns to face you, and it’s the first look you’ve really gotten of him. He’s gorgeous, and somehow manages to rock the stupid bright green volunteer t-shirt. His hair falls in his face, placed as if it were an art form, his eyes were piercing, and the bright smile on his face seemed to cut you down to your very core. This guy? Volunteering here? He should be modelling somewhere or on a date or something, not stuck on a Friday night calling Bingo numbers for the elderly. You’re so surprised by his appearance, you almost miss his words.

“Is that some sort of a pick-up line or something?” He asks, his brow raised.

Your eyes go wide, mouth open to respond. It was totally not a pick-up line. You’re now wishing you’d come up with something better to say to make this beauty of a man like you. Before you can respond he starts laughing, and in your confusion he explains, “I’m just messing with you. Your reaction was worth it though.”

Your mouth snapped shut as you relaxed, feeling the tips of your ears warm as you turn to unpack the machine you’d use tonight. “I’d hope my pick up lines would be better than that,” you mumble still feeling the need to redeem yourself.

You feel a hand clap your shoulder and when you turn to look, you find him smiling at you, his expression a little gentler than before, “Don’t sweat it, I’m not any better. Bingo on a Friday night was the best thing I could come up with.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you try to figure out his meaning. Was he saying he was trying to hit on someone using bingo night? Or just that he also has nothing to better to do, so he can’t judge you?

Seeing you confused he steps back a second and elaborates, “Let’s just say there was this really cute person I wanted to talk to who happens to really love running Bingo night.”

Before you can react, he winks, and grabbing a box of supplies for the night, dips out of the storage room. You can hear his footsteps tap almost to a melody as he gets further away.

Smiling to yourself, you grab the next box and take off after him.

[susiekern]

12. the one with the getaway car

a/n: I woke up to see that we've hit over 1000 likes at this point and I can't tell y'all how happy it makes me to know you enjoy my little works 😭 thank you so much for being here with me 🫡🫶🏻 also I'm posting it from my phone since I'm at a nye trip, so lmk if anything is looking wrong!

warnings: swearing, mentions and suggestions of sexual activities

word count: 1.491

masterlist

It’s crazy how things can change in a few weeks.

Ten days ago you had a first official date with Megumi, and now you’re sitting in his room, reading a book while he plays guitar. Spending quality time together, as Nobara would call it. You’re not sure if the thing between you two is official or not, but in the past two weeks of trying, you found out that dating Megumi is… fun. Yeah.

It had its ups and downs, like everything in life, but you try to only focus on the good parts, like how much your followers go crazy whenever you mention anything about him on your streams. They never saw him, but they loved him. Crazy. The first stream after your little Instagram fuck-up was filled with questions, and just remembering that you smile a little.

sammie: Y/N DON’T TORTURE US

rooney_: just admit it at this point

zeyde_: it’s the hot neighbor, right? it has to be him

yusshi: y/n x hot neighbor confirmed

“Guys, chill out. Nothing confirmed, I just went out with someone.” You sighed, taking a sip of the energy drink.

The little walk date you went out on yesterday turned into midnight cooking and late morning, so you were feeling the effects of only a few hours of sleep. It was great, though, so you weren’t really complaining. Megumi took the trying part seriously, and first, he took you for a walk around the calmer part of Tokyo combined with coffee in the park cafe, then cooked a dinner at his and Yuji’s place, so you could enjoy it while watching a movie. It wasn’t anything over the top; it wasn’t forced. Everything you did felt natural, like you’d been at it for years already.

lan2137: I refuse to ship you with anyone but him atp

zeyde_: LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

zeyde_: and you are the people in the back y/n

nobabar: IT WAS THE HOT NEIGHBOR GUYS

nobabar: also I got you the mochi you asked for, it’s in the fridge

sammie: the queen has spoken

viviaaan: HI NOBARA

yusshi: I knew it!

“Traitor. But thanks for the mochi, Nono.” Betrayed by your own roommate. For the next half an hour, your chat was restless in asking you about the date until you caved and shared a little. Not like you’re going to tell people how his back was now full of scratches and you had small bruises on your hips, accidentally shaped like his fingers. No way.

“What are you smiling about?” Megumi asks, looking up from his notebook that was splayed on the desk. Oh, what you’d give to see these pages. He treats it like his treasure, always putting it safely into the drawer. With the black acoustic guitar in his hands and without a shirt on, he was a view you’d never get tired of. His fingers expertly pulled on the strings, not stopping even when he looked at you.

“I’m just happy, nothing specific.” You close the book that you have been trying to focus on for the past minutes and drop it on the nightstand. Turning onto your side, you stretch a little on his bed and move your attention fully to him. “What are you playing?”

“Nothing specific.” He repeats your words. After finishing the melody and putting the instrument back in its place, he gets up from a chair and joins you on the bed. “Nap time?”

“Megs, we’re meeting with Yuji, Nobara, and Maki for dinner in an hour.” You can’t help but laugh at his proposition.

“Five minutes.” Wrapping his arms around you, he shifts you both so now he’s lying on your body, head on your chest. It was his favorite position to sleep in, you’ve noticed. Not that you’re opposing in any way, it was comforting to feel his weight on you, and you felt like hugging a giant teddy bear. Maybe a bit harder than an actual plushie, but the warmth makes up for it.

“It’s never only five minutes, and we both know it.” Even with that, you instinctively brush your finger through his soft hair, earning a sigh from him. “Fine, five minutes.”

It’s not five minutes. It never is.

“Why does he always have to come up with shit like that?!” It’s possible that the whole building was currently listening to your meltdown. Not that you care. Not right now.

“He just texted you? Didn’t even call?” Nobara was as calm as ever, sitting on the counter with a beer in hand, watching as you paced around the room. On the contrary, Yuji and Megumi, who are standing near the kitchen island, look terrified.

“No. He just sent one text with place and time. I wouldn’t even be surprised if it was his assistant who sent it. I should just fucking ignore it.” You shake your head. With shaking hands, you take your own bottle and take a sip, throat dry after cursing for a good fifteen minutes. “Fucking asshole.”

“Okay, deep breath in. I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” Megumi tries to do anything, but you only give him one deadly look.

“Keep going and you’ll earn yourself a celibacy.” You’re absolutely serious about that threat, and that’s enough to shut him up for a moment. “I need a fucking smoke before I punch something. Or someone.”

They all look as you grab a pack of cigarettes and a jacket and go to the balcony. Nobara sighs and takes another sip of beer.

“How are you so calm? I’m genuinely nervous just watching her.” Yuji asks, moving his gaze from you to her.

“It’s not my first rodeo, newbie. He pulls shit like that at least once every six months, but usually, you’re safely in your own apartment. Now you’re a witness at the wrong place at the wrong time.” She laughs humorlessly.

What reason for this whole thing? Your lovely father, who remembers about his own child once or twice a year. You were all having a lovely evening, watching shitty dramas and eating takeout, when you got a text from him, demanding you come to dinner in three days. Not asking. Demanding.

“I’ll risk that celibacy.” Megumi sighs and pulls on his hoodie that is lying on the bar stool.

“Good luck. Just don’t tell her to calm down, it usually has the opposite effect.”

When he gets out on the balcony, you’re not much calmer. Your hands are shaking, making it hard to even hold a cigarette, but nicotine is your last resort at this point. You’re leaning on the railing, breathing in cold air, hoping it’ll cool down your nerves.

“About that celibacy…” Taking a spot next to you, Megumi tries to start with a joke. Surprisingly, you chuckle under your breath, taking another puff in. “But seriously, I get it.”

“You do?”

“Have I ever told you about my dad?” He asks, before stealing a cigarette from your hand. As you shake your head, he takes two puffs and gives it back. “He did something similar. But when your dad forgot about you for a few months, mine forgot about me and Tsumi for almost ten years. I was six when Mom died, and he fell into a dark place after. Gambling, alcohol, and I don’t even want to know what else. He’d show up once a year, promise he’d get better, then do exactly the same thing every time, just disappear overnight. So yeah, I get it in a way.”

“Shit.” You curse and turn a little to look at him. His face doesn’t tell you much, although his eyes are stuck on something in the sky. “I had no idea.”

“You couldn’t know. Even Yuji doesn’t. When I was sixteen, he was gone for two years and showed up again. But this time he actually did better. We’re not really close, but he’s present and calls me once in a while, trying to redeem himself for those ten years. He’s closer to Tsumi since they both live in Kyoto, and he took on a mission to be the best grandpa to her kid now.” There’s a soft smile on his face at the mention of the current situation, and he looks at you. “I’m not saying you should be happy with what your dad is doing because it could be worse; don’t get me wrong. He’s an asshole. I’m just saying I kind of understand how it feels, and honestly, he’s not worth the nerves. Go there, see what he has to say, and if it’s the same old shit, he can’t make you stay.”

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” You nod and lean on his shoulder.

“I can drive you there and wait for you outside if you want.” He offers, wrapping an arm around your waist and smiling, when you laugh and look up at him.

“You’ll be my getaway car?”

“Always.”

tag list (lmk if you wanna be added!): @nytylie @fresa-luna @syrooo @zaranobiyuyu @jvpit3rr @pandabiene5115 @good-mourning0 @pearlydays @irwinchester @pxppetmxster @ivydoesit23 @zayuriluvs @applepi25 @s777athv @estella-novella @wgafa

[bluedalahorse]

Let’s have an 18th Century Party!

A post written for YRFavesFest2024, graciously hosted by @youngroyals-events. This is in response to prompt #11.

2.4 is actually my second favorite episode in season 2, but you’ll hear about my first favorite episode later.

Who doesn’t love a school dance episode? I hated actual school dances when I was a student, but I love them in teen shows. There’s so much social protocol that goes into dances—dress codes, approved music, who can ask who to the dance, how they can be asked. They’re also a chance for characters to mark the significance of their relationships, and for all kinds of feelings to bubble up.

The Valentine’s Ball at Hillerska doesn’t disappoint. Some things I enjoyed include:

Dubious traditions around poem writing!

The conversation the Forest Ridge boys have about poem writing (and alternatives that tell you why you’re rejected.)

Stella shooting her sapphic shot, but anonymously.

Felice getting to wear her hair in a way that makes her happy.

Wille letting Simon go and Simon deciding fuck that, he’ll kiss Wille anyway.

Sara and August’s conversation about going to the dance together.

But also the part where August sets up his room all pretty when he thinks Sara is coming to meet him (the candles! the champagne! the textbooks he kicks under the bed) and then he gets the text where she turns him down. Malte’s acting in that scene does not get enough praise.

18th Century outfitssss! Characters in wigs hell yes.

See. Aren’t school dance episodes great? 2.4 will always be famous to me.

[seimei-chsq]

i regret to inform you all that i just did ~30 minutes of basic beginner yoga and it did, in fact, help shut up the hobgoblin that lurks in my brain.

[takemetodragonstone]

I think the worst thing about having very vague/spotty memories because I was so young when it happened is feeling like I can’t ever fully accept that it DID happen. I will always second guess myself—even though the evidence is always with me (the body keeps the score, as they say). I will probably never tell anyone who knows him about it because what if I’m wrong?? What if I’m making up these flashes of “memory”, and seeing “signs” in my present self where there are none just because I want an easy answer that would explain the way that I am???

It would be such a horrible thing to accuse someone of if it wasn’t true. Especially family. Even just thinking it feels cruel and unfair to him sometimes. And there’s no way for me to get the truth unless he were to confess it to me himself.

I fantasize about that sometimes—I like to picture him apologizing to me at some kind of reunion, scared out of his mind that I’ll tell someone about it and ruin his life. Or even unapologetic, making jokes about it. At least then I would have confirmation. At least then I would have validation for the last twenty years of my life.

Anyway if anyone else feels like this, you’re not alone.

[lesbiansanemi]

I’m so tired of ppl making art of trans characters and they literally just look 100% cis but with different genitals like how are we not grasping the problem here

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

I’ve been really happy with Zayn’s tour choices so far. The small setting is great for him to dip his feet back in, his band is awesome, he looks healthy and happy, and he’s even been honest about some strugggles - like singing Pillowtalk. I appreciate him not bringing back any 1D songs, as he’s been pretty clear they weren’t his style and I think that would have felt disingenuous. I hope this is a springboard to increased confidence and something larger that can attract more than just old school 1D fans, which still seem to be the overwhelming majority of attendees.

But what I am most impressed with is how he has handled Liam’s death and acknowledgement of it during his shows. There is immense pressure on him from the 1D fans, especially the Larry/Ziam crew, and I think he has threaded the needle really really well. The first shows just having the graphic at the end with Stardust playing, then a pretty simple heartfelt public acknowledgement in his hometown. He’s somehow managed to satisfy those who are desperate for Liam/1D mentions, while keeping the focus of his shows on his new music. I think he has made some good choices in that regard, and he was really in an impossible situation having his shows so close to all of this, but he’s handled it about as well as anyone could have hoped. Fingers crossed for more good things ahead for Zayn!

100% agree on this.

I think Zayn already expressed his heart with his Instagram post for Liam. Nothing more needs to be performed for fans. The fanbase as a whole lives on buzz and excitement, on action and reaction. It’s ready to demand and to condemn at every turn. The same judgmental fandom that pressured Liam in life now mourns his death and demands a public grieving. There’s no patience for reflection.

Even now, it’s really hard for me to come to grips with Liam’s death. It’s hard to imagine that he will never make another Snapchat, never write more music, never banter with Louis on Twitter again. It’s just very, very surreal.

In moments like the tribute to Liam at Zayn’s first concert, it hits me like a brick wall that Liam is truly gone. What must that feel like for his old friends and his family? He was in the prime of his life, so much yet to experience and live for.

A song like Stardust expresses so much maturity, love, acceptance, and friendship, that it says more for Zayn to dedicate it to Liam than any spoken words could.

I loved that the audience listened to last night’s It’s You in relative quiet. I loved Zayn’s words of love in Liam’s hometown— which Liam would probably have attended had he been alive.

I love that Zayn feels more comfortable and confident with every concert, the same way Louis started his concerts in 2022, in small venues and with a dedicated but mostly One Direction-centric fanbase.

I love that Zayn sticks to his own solo songs and isn’t afraid to perform songs demanding of vocal pyrotechnics. I love that Zayn continues to write these challenging, sometimes awkward, but heartfelt songs.

Zayn’s vocal technique is phenomenal and it just keeps getting better. I would like to hear him sing Blue and Sour Diesel someday, but that’s neither here nor there. Still Got Time is still one of my go-to window down driving songs. I’m giddy and proud of him. Hope to see him soon.