#it was really cool seeing everything come together

[satellite-evans]

Hi! Could I please request a one shot where Harry is sick maybe during tour and his gf has to take care of him? Thank you! I love your writing!

a/n: thank you so much for liking my work, it truly means a lot! it's a little short but I still hope you'll like it <3

sick on tour

The hotel room is quiet except for the noise of the air conditioning and the occasional sniffle from the lump of blankets curled up in the middle of the king-sized bed. The curtains are drawn, shielding the bright city lights outside from intruding on the peaceful, dimly lit space. Harry has always liked his hotel rooms cozy—candles on the nightstand, his favorite hoodie draped over the chair, and the softest pillows he could find. But tonight, none of it seems to bring him comfort.

You stand at the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, watching Harry sulk into his pillow. His curls are a mess, sticking to his slightly damp forehead, his nose a little pink from the fever, and yet—despite looking absolutely miserable—he’s still trying to convince you he’s fine.

“I can do the show,” he rasps, voice hoarse and scratchy. He attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, but the movement sends him into a fit of coughing. You sigh and press a hand to his chest, gently urging him back down.

“Baby, no. You can barely sit up.”

He frowns, brows knitting together like a petulant child. “S’just a little cold.”

“You have a fever, a sore throat, and you sound like you swallowed sandpaper,” you point out, smoothing your fingers over his clammy forehead. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Harry grumbles something incoherent and burrows further into the pillows. You can tell he hates this—hates being taken care of, hates being seen as anything less than strong. But the thing is, to you, he’s always strong. Even now, curled up in a nest of tissues and blankets, he’s still the man you love more than anything.

Tour has been brutal on him lately. Night after night of performing, giving his all to the crowds that adore him, leaving every ounce of himself on that stage. He never complains—not about the exhaustion, not about the jet lag, not about the toll it takes on his body. But you see it in the way his shoulders slump when he thinks no one is looking, the way his voice is a little more raw each morning, the way he clings to you just a little tighter when he finally collapses into bed at the end of the night.

“I can’t cancel, though,” he whispers after a long moment, his voice laced with guilt. “They’ve probably spent so much money—flights, hotels, tickets, clothes and waited months just to see me. I can’t let them down, I just can't.”

You soften, understanding where his frustration is coming from. Harry has always carried the weight of his fans' happiness on his shoulders, always put them first. It’s one of the many reasons you love him—but right now, he needs to put himself first.

You take his hand in yours, rubbing slow, comforting circles over his knuckles. “Harry, sweetheart, I already spoke to Jeff. He and the team handled everything. They put out a statement, rescheduled the show, and made sure the fans know how much you care about them Not that they need a statement anyway. They know how much you love them.”

His brows furrow. “You—”

“I took care of it,” you interrupt gently. “So you don’t have to worry, okay? The fans love you, but they love you healthy and not sticky. You can’t give them the show they deserve if you push yourself too hard now. That is not what they deserve.”

Harry lets out a slow breath, his tense shoulders easing just a fraction. He still looks guilty, but there’s also relief in his tired eyes. “You really talked to Jeff?”

You nod. “Of course. Your health comes first, baby. Now please let me take care of you."

You slip out of the room quietly and return with a damp cloth, gently dabbing it against his forehead. The coolness makes him sigh, his tense shoulders relaxing under your touch. Then, you hold up a spoonful of honey-laced tea to his lips. He scrunches his nose but accepts it, swallowing with a soft grimace.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice slightly clearer now.

You smile and brush your fingers over his cheek. “Of course, my love.”

After making sure he’s warm enough, you reach for the small bowl of soup on the nightstand that you kindly asked form the hotel staff. “Just a little, H. You need something in your stomach other than medicine.”

"The fans would've probably ask for me to sing medicine tonight but they can't because I need it. The irony." He said, trying to lighten the room up with a joke but cough wave that crushed him once again.

"Drink Harry." You said sternly.

He looks at you like he wants to argue, but he knows better. You lift the spoon to his lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, he leans forward and takes a bite. A small, content sigh escapes him, and you can’t help but grin.

“You’re good at this,” he mutters, sleep beginning to weigh heavy on him.

“I'm just good at loving you lovie,” you reply simply, brushing back his curls as he lets his eyes drift shut.

His fingers reach for yours under the blanket, giving them a weak squeeze. “Love you more.”

You sit beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his fever-warmed temple. “Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”

And with the way he sighs, relaxing into your touch, you know he believes you.

Tomorrow, he’ll probably try to argue again. Try to tell you he feels fine, that he’s ready to get back out there, to put on another show. But for tonight, he’s yours to take care of. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

[polarisjisung]

TRACK 505 — STILL INTO YOU

02 — ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, multiple occurrences of jeno getting called a dick

PLAYLIST MENTIONS | irreplaceable (nct dream), wonderwall (oasis), heaven can wait (MJ)

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Truly, the last thing Jeno had expected was this. You.

He heard the door to the meeting room click open, and for a moment, he didn’t look up. He didn’t need to, not when he felt the air shift. He knew exactly who it was.

Still, he hadn’t expected any of this, not seeing you in the lobby, not seeing you here, not seeing you at all.

But here you were, walking in like you owned the place—head held high, like you hadn't walked out of his life all those months ago.

Your steps were deliberate, as if you were trying to make some kind of a point, the soft tap of your heels against the floor, louder than it should've been. He noticed the way you looked around, scanning the meeting room, the people, like it was all new to you. Like they were new to you.

Really, it was nothing, just a quick glance, your eyes sweeping the room—but it got under his skin.

God, you always did that. Always had to be aware of everything, every corner, every detail.

“Y/n, please take a seat.” Jungwoo smiled up at you, and you nodded. For a moment, you hesitated, like you were unsure. Jeno didn't notice.

He saw instead how you moved with that same confidence, that same grace, as if you hadn’t walked away from everything you'd built together— like it was nothing.

Feeling the eyes on you, you let out a polite greeting, a simple hello with a smile, not just any smile, but one where your cheeks grew full and your teeth flashed ever so slightly.

That damn smile.

Jeno hated it, hated that he could still remember the way you used to laugh, the way your eyes would light up when you’d start talking about your music.

Though, that had been before. Before all of this.

Now he watched as you slid into the seat across from him, the way you smoothed your jacket down over your thighs, so damn careful. And when you crossed your legs, he couldn’t help but notice how perfect it was, almost effortless.

His fingers tightened around the armrest, jaw clenching as he tried to look anywhere but at you.

You shifted in your seat again, crossing and uncrossing your legs, tapping your pen lightly against the table, like you were making a point of being bored in front of everyone.

Or maybe you were just pretending to be unaffected, playing it cool. But that was always your trick. Acting like you didn’t care, when deep down, you did.

And it pissed him off. You pissed him off.

Jungwoo was still talking, a stupid smile etched onto his face, making hand actions and asking questions here and there, probably cracking a few jokes from what Jeno could tell, rounds of awkward laughter echoing every so often.

But he caught himself glancing at you.

Just for a second. It wasn’t like he was looking—Jeno just noticed.

The curve of your jaw as you tilted your head slightly, the way your lips parted when you finally spoke. He quickly forced himself to focus on the notes in front of him, but his mind was still there, thoughts lingering in places he didn’t want them to go.

You shifted again, and this time, it was your hair—those little strands falling out of place, like you wanted them to. He remembered how you used to do that on purpose, let your hair fall into your eyes, always with that nonchalant smirk, knowing he’d be the one to fix it.

Stop it Jeno

You could feel Jeno’s gaze on you throughout the meeting, though he didn’t look directly at you, you felt it, sensed it. The skin on his knuckles had turned white, you saw it.

Then the proposal came, the one Jeno knew was coming but still wasn’t ready for. Your name floated into the conversation, and he couldn’t look at you anymore.

His gaze was fixed on the table, his fingers gripping the wood as if he could bury himself in it.

“So what are your thoughts on Y/n rejoining the band? It's a decision we've been thinking of for a while, and it could really be great for your careers.”

It wasn't Jungwoo who spoke, or Doyoung, but one of the other executives, some guy with a mean face and a not so well-hidden attitude, not that it mattered. Nothing mattered, really, not now.

Rejoining the band.

The words tasted like metal in his mouth.

They hung in the air, impossibly loud despite the calm exterior of the room. And suddenly, the air felt heavy around you, thick and unbreathable.

Mark had eventually hummed out a response, though you can barely recall what. You weren't exactly paying attention, tugging at the skin on your thumbs under the table, knowing that soon it'd be your turn, desperately trying to formulate a response.

You felt all eyes on you, calculating, anticipating, and expectant, but none more so than Jeno’s.

His face remained neutral, expression stoic, though your eyes caught the tension in his posture.

This offer was unexpected, to say the least. It wasn’t just business—it was personal.

His fingers tightened around the armrest, his jaw barely noticeable as it clenched. The twitch of his eye betrayed the stillness he had tried so hard to maintain.

Your own heart raced. Every part of you wanted to decline, to walk out, to say that chapter was closed.

But when Jeno looked at you, you didn’t even seem to register the offer—they were talking about you, but you didn’t react the way he expected.

You didn't react at all. No excitement. No hesitation. Just that quiet nod, that one small movement that didn’t mean anything to anyone else but said everything to him.

You’d always been so controlled. He hated that. Hated the way you never let anything slip.

“We can think about it,” you said, but the words were barely louder than the click of your pen against the table again—think about it.

That was it. So simple, so empty.

NOTES | yes jisung everyone knows what you mean, jeno says, in fact nobody knows what he means... but when you do know 😈 I wasnt gonna have the written part initially but then I thought I should add it in case things were too confusing 😔 .. long chap in true hua fashion today !

tags: @sinisxtea @nanawrlds @f6llsun @karlitava @dudekiss3r @kaosuni @ayukas @soo-sh1 @flaminghotyourmom @jenobubbles @sibwol @n0hyuck @blossominghunnie @i03jae @rikufan3000 @chenlezip @awktwurtle @cookiehaos @thatsatricky1 @nctdreamchaser @jae-n0 @blondiedae @17ericas (comment/send an ask to be added !)

[sweetheartsnips]

Saiyans x Virgin Reader HCs

In honour of me being back on tumblr after like 6 years here are some short HCs for my fav Saiyans x virgin reader that I threw together while eating lunch. 

Not inherently explicit but 18+

A/N : you can probably expect more of this kinda stuff from me in between my more substantial stuff on ao3 from now on because I am possessed and have too many thoughts.

Goku 

Goku has quietly been waiting for you to bring up the topic for quite a while. He has tried to be subtle (but if Goku is anything it is definitely not subtle) with touches that linger a bit too long to innocent: squeezing your hips, thigh holding that goes a little too high, and eyes that wander over your body with that hungry look of his. Of course, he would be patient, just for you, and would wait until you were comfortable enough giving yourself to him in that way.

“Really? We can do that? Can we go and do it right now?”

Goku would get lost in the opportunity to show you how much he likes you in such a physical way. He works with his hands, after all. 

He would get so distracted– he would be so excited just for foreplay. Running his hands over your body greedily, going down on you like the himbo glutton he is. He would be so happy just like this, he would almost forget about the main event. 

A very vocal partner. Mostly just gibberish about how soft and wet you are, and how pretty you look. He would go all out to make you feel good (he has crazy stamina) and would make you scream at least a few times. 

Vegeta

Vegeta by nature is confident, dominant and has control of the entire situation. He wouldn’t ever tell you, but he has planned everything out to minimise any risk of disappointing you. He wants your first time to be perfect so as to not bruise your image of him. 

He is also quite possessive, and the thought that you are trusting him and him alone with this feeds his pride immensely. 

He is quite cocky, but also has the ability to please you to back it up. 

“I’m the only one that can give you this, let me take care of you.”

Would tease you for hours beforehand if you let him: it amuses him to see you squirm and beg. He can read your body like a map, exploiting all of your sensitive spots. 

“You’ve gone from so demure to so needy, I’ve ruined you already, haven’t I?” 

He wants you to think you’re lucky for having the opportunity to be intimate with a prince, but he actually feels grateful that you’re allowing him to be your first. 

Gohan

Gohan would be incredibly flustered when you ask him to be your first.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to disappoint you..”

Although ever humble, he is so flattered that you would choose him to take your virginity. He would take you on a date beforehand, give you oodles of affection and make sure the occasion is as comfortable and relaxing for you as possible.

Surprise! Once he is in bed with you he becomes a mess. Little whimpers and moans, his skin flushed but cool with sweat as he presses his body against you. 

“You feel so good…you look so perfect. Does that feel good, sweetheart?” 

Is entirely focused on you, and doesn’t draw things out for too long. He wants to please you, to be good for you. 

He watches your face closely, using your expressions and sounds as a guide, slowly becoming more and more sure of himself. Once he is sure you’re enjoying yourself, he finds it much easier to slip and lose himself in his own pleasure.

Gohan also gives the best aftercare ever.

Future Trunks

Trunks is a gentle lover, as gentle as they come. When you ask him to be your first, he would be over the moon, and excited to show his affection for you. 

“I promise I’ll make it good for you. We can do everything exactly as you want.”

Trunks would worship your body with caresses and kisses beforehand, taking things slowly to build your anticipation and show you how much he cares. His touch would be gentle, full of love and reverence. He doesn’t get the chance to show you often, between time travel and all. 

He would take you in missionary, cupping the side of your face and get lost in your pleasure-dazed eyes. As he senses your growing need, his touch will gradually become more firm and confident, feeding off of the way your body takes him. 

Trunks also moans pretty. 

“It’s like you were made for me…I’m so lucky.”

Afterwards, Trunks would hold you close, letting you rest against his muscly chest. Forehead kisses, savouring your smell. 

“Thank you for being mine.”

Broly (Super) 

Broly is initially confused.

“Your…first? First to do what?” 

When you sheepishly explain to him he goes as red as a tomato. It seems it would be his first time too. 

Your size differences would make things a little awkward to navigate first, but you end up being most comfortable underneath him, caged underneath his hulking body. He likes to have you like this: as if he is keeping you safe and shielding you from the world. Despite his imposing demeanour, he is a blushing mess– nervous and afraid of messing up.

Broly lets you take the lead a bit. He is very careful in foreplay, letting you guide him to ensure your safety and comfort. He is a little afraid of hurting you, and this is reflected in his timid actions, but he soon comes out of his shell with your reassurances.

He loves the taste of your skin, the warmth of your body. He is so touch-deprived that with each little brush of your skin against his he has to stifle a whine. 

Broly finds it difficult to find the right words to say, instead choosing to show you how much he enjoys you with his hands.

[solshii]

here’s sol’s wip notes for her mlp svsss

sqq has a horn guard to cover his cracked horn (i assume it was near broken off when wu yanzi got to him and wyz would do some hoodoo voodoo backwater magic & cultivation to cure it to near perfection (without repercussions that would set back his magic and cultivation ofc))

lbh’s horn comes and goes (like a lightsaber) with his zuiyin. it helps with disguising as a normal pony, plus it goes in line with his whole rise to power with a ‘nopony is actually a secret alicorn’ pipeline LOL

higher class demons (i.e mbj, shl, heavenly demons) are more reminiscent to ponies (the same way they look more like humans in normal svsss) though majority of the demon realm consist of various species

i imagine majority of demons also dont have cutie marks as they are a variety of species, but maybe powerful demons probably get the chance to gain one (excluding binghe who gets to have one regardless since hes half pony)

we’ll.. figure out how to mix cultivation and pony magic together 💀🤞 somehow…

speculating lqg’s colour palette to be blue/grey/white (and naturally he has more moles around his body)

only heavenly demons get alicorn privilege so mbj is a unicorn

and sqh is a pegasus (airplane himself wouldve been an earth pony)

pony shen yuan would’ve been an average unicorn who can at most carry a few things at once. he wouldve been really excited when he could do all the cool unicorn stuff as shen qingqiu that he couldn’t when he was shen yuan

blackened binghe would probably have more black and red in his design

also everyone wears robes agsksj but yk i was fighting for my life 😞

some ponies (like lqg, sqh) only wear upper robes (and bracers) while some others (like sqq) wear robes the also cover their flank, though leave some open room for legs to move freely (see mlp gala dresses)

non-pegasi cultivators can probably still use their swords to fly (if we can fit two people on a sword, they can fit all fours on it i trust them 🤞🤞)

also yeah lbh’s guanyin pendant is in the same colours as the jade tassel on sqq’s cutie mark

i just thought it was cute

on cutie marks

i was gonna make lbh’s cutie mark just be his zuiyin but its subject to change

lqg’s cutie mark is cheng luan and a (probably white?? blue??) phoenix

i have no clue how to go about yqy’s cutie mark but i was telling someone about entertaining the thought of chains incorporated into it somehow as like,, symbolism for his whole deal with xuan su and his past as a slave, while also symbolising strong bonds (read: his attachment to sj), strength unity and all that makes him sect leader

since i wanted yqy to have something relating to how his past grapples at him without being inconspicuous for a sect leader and also having symbolism that really makes sense for a sect leader lol (plus chains are grey and it matches his colour scheme (put a b&w filter on this bad boy and u wont see a difference))

during their time as slaves, yqy and sj’s flanks were marked with 七 and 九 respectively. i think that if sj were to get a slave brand from the qius (icl ive read so many fics idk if this is a canon or fanon thing) it would be placed there as well

which is what makes the fan for sj a meaningful CM to me imo, like he’s hiding his past as a slave behind the fan like he does in reality, or generally metaphorical in the way 九 would define shen jiu and the fan defines his persona as shen qingqiu, iygwim

i took the poem on the fan from chapter 5 of dark clouds by invidia_envy LOL youll find it if you type in lyrics to the tune of wuyeti by li yu

i have no clue what to do for sqh either but i may just give him the generic scroll with a brush (sorry airplane (but it would be kinda funny if some of the scrolls are all crumpled up n everything))

also i imagine sj and yqy got their cutie marks when sj was in the qiu manor and yqy was having his whole xuan su fiasco, so they never saw each other’s CMs until their reunion. but i also dont know if this would be considered too late by mlp standards ahsjdj

my pens fixed and i havent drawn in a while

by the way theyre supposed to have robes guys i was just too confused to figure it out 😞

[peaterookie]

My Favorite Lupin III Manga Panels

Shin Lupin III | Chapter 31 - Strange Bedfellows

This panel is such a simple but emotional piece of art. I love how you can just tell the mix of shock, relief and worry that Lupin felt seeing Goemon in such a state, that the only thing he can do is rush to him. There's no dialogue in this panel and there's no need for them- you can tell everything from Lupin's face and posture and see that Goemon is really important to him even if he never says it.

It's a really important panel for me because it changed the way I interpreted the series moving onward, so it had to be here.

Shin Lupin III | Chapter 170 - Double Body

This one is just extremely beautiful first and foremost. Lupin's body makes you look towards the giant ship sunken in the ocean, and the bubble? wave? thing gives a super cool underwater effect while also supporting the direction Lupin's is on.

It's also a really serene and calming drawing to look at tbh. Really suitable wallpaper material- I have it as a background on my Tumblr blog!

Shin Lupin III | Chapter 174 - Pipe Dream

I was mixed about including this spread but the big reason why I added it in was that I worked really hard on stitching that double spread and it was a really great experience seeing it come together. I was super proud of what I did.

Lupin on the left looks extremely cool and well drawn, the perspective and background is also masterfully drawn and the detail and effort that must've went into it is awe-inspiring!

It's just too bad this is from a very bad manga chapter.

Sexy Lupin III | Chapter 2 - Rolls Saylor

The 4th one is my favorite panel from Sexy Lupin. It's one of the few manga moments where intimate love is shown in a very tender way and I like that about it. Both figures are nicely drawn and the background is absolutely gorgeous.

It's such a good panel to use as reference. I love the way the city was depicted in the night and the cross-stitching is masterful. Not to mention the architectural design of the room!!

Anyways yeah, what are your guy's favorite panels?

[myshadowsbackstage]

Repercussions | Suna x Reader.

Summary: Everything was fine until Rintarou decided to say that. And you get him, you really do, so you try to do him a favor. You're doing Rintarou a favor, so why does he feel like he wants to punch Atsumu anytime he sees you two together.

College! au, gn! reader, platonic! Atsumu, angst with a happy ending (I think). Inarizaki is a college team because why not.

W/c: 5,5k

a/n: Hello! I really hope you enjoy your reading. English isn't my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. Also, this is -literally- my first piece of fiction in like... at least 6 years, so any *constructive* feedback is highly appreciated.

You were doing your way to the kitchen when you heard him.

Suna and you went to a birthday party of a friend of yours, and at some point during the night you and him got separated. You went to play with some of your friends while he stayed talking to a group of guys he met that night that really seemed to like him. 

After dancing and fooling around you felt the need for a glass of water, so you went to the kitchen looking for something to satiate your thirst. 

You heard a masculine voice. "It's like once you start a relationship, any sense of freedom it's just gone". Laughter, and another voice "Like when they cling to your arm or something, and it's like, God, just let me breathe for once"

His voice. 

And you swear, a punch to the gut would have been less painful. Still, you didn't stop walking and went to the kitchen anyway. A sudden silence filled the room and that seemed to make the voices in your head louder. 

Should I say something? Confront him. Go away. Say something. How could you act like nothing happened? What the fuck do I say to that. I want to cry. I wanna scream. Punch him. Fucking punch him. How could I? How could he?

God, you were dizzy.

"Hey, y/n" His voice was shaking, you could almost see his face just by hearing him. Twisted in an uncomfortable grimace "Everything alright?"

"Yes" You didn't dare looking at his face, working on autopilot while taking a bottle of juice to serve yourself. 

"Cool... Cool, are you having fun? Do you need anything?" And that switched something inside of you because how could he dare to play dumb like that.

You looked him in the eye and seeing the unshed tears burning in your eyes finally shut him up.

"No, I'm fine"

Without wanting to spend another second in that place, you left the bottle on the counter, fighting not to squeeze the vase in your hand while you got away from that place.

But who were you fooling, you were never good at pushing your feelings away. You wore your heart on your sleeve. Even if you didn't want to, the tears escaped, so you just left the vase on a table on the way to the bathroom, praying for it to be empty.

In the kitchen, Suna stood up, not knowing what to do. The silence kept stretching, and he was a moment away from tearing his hair with his own hands.

What possessed him to say such a thing, he had no idea. He didn't mean it, of course he didn't mean it, but the guys were joking, and being received so easily by a group of people wasn't something that happened to Suna a lot, he just wanted to be a part of it.

But not at the expense of you. Never again at the expense of you. Seeing the betrayal in your eyes made him realize what a stupid thing left his mouth just to be seen as cool by a bunch of random guys whom he would probably never see again.

So he went after you.

He knew you enough to know that you would look for a quiet place to let loose, and considering that this was supposed to be a party, he knew there weren't a lot of places to do that, so he went for the most obvious place to go in this situation.

He knocked on the door three times. "Hey, y/n, are you there?" The music and laughter around the place almost didn't let him hear it, but there they were. Soft sniffles coming from the other side of the door. He kept knocking and calling your name a few times, until he thought that it would be better to let you have your space for a while before trying to do anything about it.

He came back to the kitchen, where the group was still dealing with the tension in the air. When they saw Suna's face, they gave up. 

"Hey, you okay?" Asked one of them.

"I think so... I don't know" Another tsked and awkwardly patted Suna's shoulder.

"Give them some time"

"Yeah" another interjected "They're gonna get over it in no time"

And if you asked him at that moment, he wouldn't have been able to pinpoint what it was. Maybe it was the look on your face when he saw you, the tears dwelling on your eyes, the way your voice strangled in an attempt not to waver, or your sniffles through the door, maybe the image of you, hiding in a bathroom sobbing all by yourself, or maybe that it was all his fault, but something snapped inside of him.

"No, you see? That's the problem. I don't have to wait for them to move on, I can't wait for them to move on. That's not the way you treat a partner. If you fuck up, then you make up for it, you don't get to continue your life as if nothing happened. I mean, if you really prefer to get away with being an asshole, and not suffer the consequences of that, rather than speaking to your partner, why the fuck do you have one in the first place?"

Most of the guys averted their eyes. Some were pretending to drink, while others suddenly picked an interest in the room's decoration, but not one of them could look Rintarou in the eye.

"Chill, dude, we we're just trying to–" 

"Save it"

After that, Suna got up and went wandering around the house, ignoring everyone and wondering  Now, what the fuck do I do now? 

He tried, he really tried, but his own body was reacting to the guilt, and he was sure his stomach were not gonna be able to handle another minute of being on your bad side, so he came back to the bathroom.

He could still hear you. Softer. Calmer. But still going. He knocked again.

"Y/n?" 

Silence.

"I know you probably don't want to see me right now, but... I really regret saying that, if you could let me...  Please, just hear me out, I can't–" Suna's own voice staggered "I can't bear to be like this. Please. Let me fix this"

The lock clicked, and the door barely opened. Enough to let him know that he could enter, but not enough to even see inside. He still pushed, and once inside, closed and locked the door again to not be disturbed.

Then he saw you.

Curled up, hugging your own knees, hiding your face in them while trying to control your breathing. Suna wanted to hold your hands, your face, touch in any way to reassure you. Somehow. However, he knew better. You barely let him inside, going straight to physical touch would be anything but the smart choice, so he put his back on the door and slid to the floor. Giving you some distance.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it. Really, I didn’t” Ashamed, he cast his eyes to the floor, picking the skin around his nails. “I just… the guys were joking, and I didn’t want to be left out like I always do, and I know it sounds absolutely dumb to use that as an excuse, because it is. But…” He crawled a little, getting closer, still not daring to touch you. “I promise, I love whenever you hug me, or take my arm, or anything, just anything really. I adore how you are so unapologetically you, and just show your love the way you want to, and I would have never accepted being your boyfriend if that weren’t the case, okay?” Just then he made his first attempt, putting his hands on your knees, caressing in little circles, and getting gradually closer to your head, aiming to take off your face from its hiding spot “Please, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me, I want to see your–”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” Suna went silent, and it was that which made you look up to him. “How am I supposed to believe that my boyfriend isn’t sick of me when he speaks like that so easily to a stranger? Was it because they wouldn’t snitch on you? They don’t know me, don’t own me anything, why would they tell me about it?”

“No, no, it wasn’t like that–”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure!”

Another silence filled the air. Both of you looking at each other’s faces, panting. Suna was the first to sigh, trying to lower the volume of his voice.

“You don’t believe me, I get it. Which is why I need you to look me in the eye when I say this” At that, he held your face, forcing eye contact “I did not mean it. Just wanted to belong to that shitty group for an hour, and it was one of the worst mistakes I have ever made, only surpassed by that time I chickened out on asking you on a date, so I had to watch fucking Omimi shooting his shot instead, thank God that really didn’t go anywhere, because I swear those were the worst six months of my life” You couldn’t help to laugh a little, remembering that messy time for you and your relationship with the Inarizaki team. “And now I got to be the person you should rely on, and I fuck it up.” Suna laughs humorlessly “Forgive me, please. I know it may be too much to ask, but give me the opportunity to show you I really care”

You fell back, away from his touch and wiped out your tears before answering. “I want to, I really want to, but Rin…” A nickname. Suna thought there might be hope after all “What guaranteed do I have of this not happening again? Hell, how do I know you won’t be trash mouthing me anytime we get separated?”

“I won’t”

“But how do I know that?”

“You’ll feel it”

“What are you talking about?” You were sure Suna hit himself in the head at some point during the last 10 seconds of your conversation, but then he took your hands, his grip was firm, a bit harsh even, desperate. 

“I’ll be the best boyfriend I can be, I’ll let you feel how important you are to me, you’ll feel how much I love you, and your hugs, and kisses, and pats, anything you give me. You’ll never doubt yourself again. You hear me?”

Part of you still was unsure about the situation, but Suna had that look on his face. The one where his eyes opened up just a little bit more, and his lips parted. Lowering all of his defenses to show that his intentions were true.

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” At that, he couldn’t restrain himself anymore and enveloped you in a hug, caressing your hair with one of his hands, allowing you to rest on his chest, smelling that perfume you adored so much.

“I am not disappointing you again.”

Truth is, Suna was true to his word. After getting out of the bathroom, he spent the rest of the night with you, just talking, drinking a little bit, even dancing for a bit when you asked him to under the pretence of atoning for his sins.

However, something inside you still felt unsure. Suna swore up and down that something like that would never happen again, and it got you wondering, if something like that were to actually bother him one day, would he tell you?

Because it wasn’t a lie when you said he wasn’t the most touchy person before he got with you, and that was something you both knew. Part of you still thought that maybe, just maybe, part of what Suna said at the party was true, and he felt uncomfortable with you being glued to him any chance you got.

And since he did his part in showing you how much he cared for you, you decided to do him a favor.

You would do it gradually. Suna is a perceptive person, any abrupt change would startle him immediately, and you would also allow yourself some things. You wouldn’t compromise hugging while sleeping, or napping, you liked that way too much, but perhaps holding his hand when you were sitting at some table on campus wasn’t that necessary. Nor was holding his arms when you were watching movies, for a few scenes maybe, just not the whole thing. Hugging his back when he was cooking was kind of uncomfortable, but you still could do it while waiting for the water to boil whenever you made tea.

Yeah, you could do it. 

The smell of the gym was something you were long accustomed to. The humidity in the air by sweaty bodies jumping and running non stop was something that didn’t make you flinch anymore. Not that much, at least.

Suna and you were holding hands when you entered. Some of the guys were warming up, others chit chatting here and there. Atsumu was about to enter the court, ball already in his hands when he saw you.

“Y/n!”

“Tsumu!” You let go of your boyfriend’s hand and run to hug your best friend. Atsumu and you used to be aware of each other, seeing one another on campus a few times, but you didn’t get close until you started your thing with Suna, when your company during practice became part of the routine. At the beginning, it was a bit awkward, you could tell Atsumu didn’t like your presence very much, thinking you were going to be a distraction for the middle blocker, but if anything, Suna wanted to impress you, so he stopped lacking off any chance he got, and suddenly Atsumu thought that maybe having you there wasn’t so bad after all. He started being nicer to you and the rest was history, you two connected in a way you haven’t with any other person in university.

“You okay? How’s Sunarin treating you? Had he done something to punch him?” You laughed, not letting go of him.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to keep waiting”

“Damn, when is the universe giving me an opportunity to smack the guy?” You heard Suna letting go of a sigh at Atsumu’s antics.

“If anything happens, I’ll let you know”

“Please”

You let go of him and went to your usual spot on the bench. The guys started practice and you used the time to read.

This was all part of your routine. The guys knew you would always be there during practice , and since you would be sitting in silence, without distracting any of the guys, the coach allowed it. Every break you would seize the opportunity to go and pamper your boyfriend, or even better, pester Atsumu. Neither the guys, nor Suna said anything about it, you didn’t want to let them know. To let him know.

Two weeks pass by, and something in the back of Suna’s mind starts to nag at him. He can’t tell what it is, but there is definitely something different between you two. You keep accompanying him to practice, he stills waits for you at the station so you can go to class together, you two still wait for the other, depending on who finish class later that day, you two still go to each other’s houses and sleep hugging each other, you still talk, and message the other when you’re not together, then what is it?

You two enter the gym, and before he can process it, you let go of him to go say hi to Atsumu. When he sees you two, his stomach does something. He knows it’s not jealousy, because he would trust his life to you, and even if he would never say it out loud, the truth is, he trusts Atsumu too, he knows nothing romantic would ever happen between the two of you. So why? Why does he feel so aware of the way your arms are wrapped around each other, noticing how you just don’t let go, which of course you don’t, you never do, you love too much to do that, that was one of the reasons he fell in love with you in the first place. That never ending love that made everyone around you feel seen.

He doesn’t have the energy to keep thinking about it, he doesn’t want to, so he just puts out his phone and scrolls on social media while you talk to Atsumu on the court, waiting for practice to officially start. You don’t get to see Atsumu that much outside of practice, so he doesn’t intend to ruin that for you. Not now, not during breaks. Not last week, not this week, and he doesn’t do it either the next week. He just takes his phone and sets his eyes on the screen, nothing but the screen. He knows if he allows himself to go with any of the guys, he would inevitably see the two of you, and if he sees you, then he has to think about what makes him so… he doesn’t even know what he is feeling right now, a sense of loss he doesn’t know where is coming from, that started only when he was in practice, but 3 days ago, it started to plague his mind during the rest of the day, and he can’t bear to feel any of that.

When it comes to you, the truth is, you don’t realize what you’re doing. In your mind, your plan to give Suna his space is going on with flying colors. He has not said anything, and looks as calm as ever, so you must be doing it right. The problem is, you love to be touchy, you just can’t help it, you love to hold and be held, give and receive, you need it. And if your body can’t have your boyfriend, then somebody else needs to fill that need.

Osamu does realize it though. So does Kita, and Aran, and Ginjima, and the whole team really. 

Yes, even Atsumu.

He hasn’t asked about it, because he knows that if something bothers you that much, you would tell him, but lately things seems to have spiraled in this weird setting where the moment you step on the gym, Suna ceases to exist, and he looks absolutely unbothered by it, burying himself in his phone, and not speaking with anyone on the team. Even the coach went to Kita asking if everything was alright, or if he should intervene. Shinsuke reassured him that they would handle the situation.

“How’s it going?”

“Nothing”

“Should we intervene?”

“I’m not sure” Atsumu replied. Osamu was across from him, arms crossed, pretending to look at the court while actually having an eye on Suna, who was playing something on his phone while you were in the bathroom.

“It’s been almost three weeks”

“I know, but I’m not sure how to approach it. They hadn’t told me anything about it”

“Well, ask, then.” 

Atsumu growled. “It’s not that easy”

“Yes, it is”

“You do it, then”

“Okay, but what if…” At that, Atsumu looked at his brother, interested. “You talk to y/n, and I go talk to Rin, how’s that?” Atsumu sighed, thinking about it.

“Okay”

Another three days pass by before the perfect moment to have that conversation appears. Coach called for a short break, yet Osamu noticed how he picked up a call and after asking who was he walking to, his face changed and he went away for a bit of privacy. Surely the call would take a bit of time. He sees Atsumu talking to you on a bench, while you play absentmindedly with his hair. Atsumu feels the drilling look of his brother and as soon as Osamu gets his brother’s attention, he makes a quick nod at Suna and a thumbs up. Atsumu gives a quick wink at his brother, acknowledging the situation, and as Osamu makes his way to Rin, he sees how Atsumu takes your hand and guides you to a quieter corner of the gym.

“Hey”

“Hey” Suna doesn’t take his eyes away from the screen.

“How’s it going?”

“Good. You?” Osamu laughs and nudges the middle blocker.

“Nah, don’t bullshit me, I know you better than that and you know it”

For the first time in what feels like forever, Rintarou takes his eyes away from the phone. “I don’t know”

“You don’t know?” Osamu was at the verge of teasing him, but as soon as he sees the troubled look on his friend, he decides against it.

“Honestly, I don’t know, it’s just…”

Osamu tries to help him, tentatively. “Does it have to do with y/n?” Suna looked down.

“Yeah” There was silence for a moment. Osamu didn’t dare press any further. “I… I really don’t know how to talk about this, everything seems fine, but… but it doesn’t feel fine. It’s… something’s been off for a while, and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Haven’t you tried to talk with them about it?”

“No. I mean… It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that… I don’t know what would I say to them. ‘Hey, I feel you’re mad at me, even though you act the same as always’ doesn’t seem to cut it” Osamu plays with his fingers, wanting to play dumb as much as he can.

“I mean, if it has you feeling like this even at practice, maybe they haven’t really been acting the same as always.” Suna hums and Osamu decides he may need to pick a bit deeper if he wants to get something out of Rin. “Does this have to do with my brother?”

Rintarou sighs and puts his phone aside, putting his feet on the same table as his, and letting his elbows rest on his knees. “Is it that obvious?”

“You want me to answer that honestly?” They both laugh softly, and Suna seems to relax for a bit, knowing Osamu wouldn’t judge him for being honest.

“Yes, it has to do with Atsumu, but at the same time… no? Ugh, I don’t even know what I’m saying”

“Tsumu, what are you doing?”

“Just wanted to have a conversation without any monkey interrupting us” You would have laughed, but the implications of that sentence put you on some kind of edge.

“A conversation? Atsumu, is everything alright?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me” There is a beat of silence, the confusion written all over your face.

“What?”

“God, I didn’t want to ask like this but… I can tell something has been bothering you, and you know I don’t like to pry, and I trust you would tell me if anything serious is going on, but I know there is something you aren’t telling me, or anyone for that matter. What is it?” You put on a facade a second to late, he noticed the way you tried to evade his gaze before giving him a little smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Yes, you do”

And it was the look on his eyes. The way his voice was so assertive without being accusatory. Not judging, not attacking, just stating a fact. And it could have been any other of the guys, you would have kept pretending, but this was Atsumu. Atsumu who managed to win you even after giving you the cold shoulder the first time he saw you. Atsumu who would always make sure you were feeling comfortable and welcomed anywhere as long as he was present. Atsumu who would take your side anytime you had a fight with Suna even if he knew you were in the wrong just because you needed the support. This was your friend.

“It feels like he’s getting all the attention” Getting those words out of his mouth felt as if rocks made their way slowly from Suna’s stomach to his mouth. He felt absolutely embarrassed. “In private I still get the hugs, and… that stuff, but whenever we’re here it’s just… I become a background character or something, a fucking npc or whatever”

“Does this happen only with Atsumu?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so, even if he’s busy they manage to be with someone else, being all touchy and fuck, it sounds so shitty, but I swear, it doesn’t bother that they are doing it, it’s just…” The sentence hung up in the air, but Osamu got perfectly what  Rintarou was trying to say.

It was messy, but he knew his friend enough to know he would rather drink a bottle of vinegar in one go before admitting that he just wanted physical touch.

“When was your last fight?”

“Our last fight?

“Yeah, or a discussion, anything really”

“Uh… I don’t know, like three months, maybe”

“What was it about?”

“It was about…” Osamu looked at Suna’s face, trying to recall when was the last time you had an actual fight and not a discussion about what show you would be watching before sleeping, and he could swear he saw the exact moment the gears in his friend’s mind started to work. “Motherfucker”

“What is it?”

“That fucking party” Osamu waited “We got separated, I was mingling with a bunch of guys, we were just talking, but they started speaking about how annoyed they felt at their partners sometimes, and…stupid me, just because I wanted to say something, I basically said that I would get annoyed by them hanging onto me any chance, or something like that. Doesn’t matter really.” Suna sighed, “Thing is, they heard me.” Osamu stayed there, suddenly very aware that they were supposed to still be in practice and praying to all the gods for the coach not to come back yet. Not when the conversation got that serious. “I apologize, we spoke about it, I told them I didn’t mean it, I just wanted to… participate, I guess.” Another moment of silence, Suna’s gaze glued to the floor “Now that I think about it, this has been going on ever since”

“I see…”

“You’re not gonna say anything else?”

“I want to say a lot of things, but most of them aren’t very nice, and ultimately, I think you already know them” Suna let out a bitter laugh.

“I guess you’re right”

They both let another moment pass, settling their emotions.

“Well, at least you solved the mystery, now you can say you want their attention without looking like you are constipated”

“I did not look like that”

“Yes, you did, but it’s okay, because now you have an actual argument to backup that feeling”

“I guess… Fucking Atsumu, getting all of the attention”

“Of course, you know he would never reject them”

“You think y/n told him anything? He seems pretty oblivious about it” For Suna’s sake, Osamu chose not to point out that, in fact, Rintarou hasn’t looked at anything his teammates has been doing for the past weeks. 

“Judging by his expression, I think he found out about 5 seconds ago” Rintarou followed the gaze of Osamu and found Atsumu holding both of your hands. He couldn’t see your face, but he could see Atsumu’s clenched jaw, and his overall tense posture.

Suna sighed again “Considering this may be my final moments, just so you know, you were always my favorite Miya” Osamu lets out a laugh so deep, it reverberates throughout the gym, gaining the attention of some of the members as the coach came back.

“I already knew that”

“Okay, guys, sorry for the tardiness, let’s come back, come on!”

Both guys got up, and before entering the court, Osamu squeezed Suna’s shoulder.

“I’m here whatever happens, okay? Don’t forget that”

Practice finished with… a sort of tension. Suna could tell Atsumu was trying to pretend everything was normal, but he has always been shit at acting, so every person in the gym could tell something was up with him, while Osamu was the only one ignoring his twin’s antics and actually acting like everything was fine. To Suna, that made the situation even more disturbing.

Once the coach signaled the end of practice, Suna almost ran for his things. When he got out of the lockers, he saw Atsumu talking to you, doing gestures with his hands and moving his mouth at a speed that made Suna dizzy even through the distance. When Atsumu saw Rintarou, he stopped abruptly, making you turn away and give him a tight smile. If he wasn’t so nervous already he would have burst his ass laughing at Atsumu’s cartoonish ways.

While he made his way to you, Atsumu gave you a quick hug and just a wave to Rintarou as he made his way to his brother.

“Do you want to go for some ice cream?” He asked suddenly. You looked at him a little confused, yet seeing his face, a sort of mutual understanding passed through both of you.

“I would love to”

Shyly, you extended your hand. He took it, intertwining your fingers, and giving a soft squeeze. 

As you walked to your favorite ice cream shop, the streets seemed to have a little more color, the air felt a little more fresher, the neighbourhood was a little bit quieter.

“Rin…”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to talk to you”

“I’d like that too” Both of you squeeze the other’s hand “Would you like to begin?”

“Yes.” He gave you your time. “I know I haven’t been the best to you lately, I’ve been acting weirdly, and I know you noticed, and we just haven’t addressed the situation, and god, I hate we let it get to this point. We should’ve… I should’ve talked to you sooner” Suna nodded his head a little, showing he was listening “To be honest… I’ve been feeling insecure because… well, I… You…”

“Y/n” He interrupted softly “Does this have to do with what I said at that party?” You let the air you were holding out, relieved that he was willing to address the situation.

“Yes.”

“Okay” Suna kept quiet again, waiting for you to elaborate from there.

“To be honest, I still feel insecure about it. I know you told me, and even insisted that you didn’t mean it, and whatnot, but it made me think perhaps there were times where you didn’t want to be touched all the time, but you didn’t tell me just so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings. And Rin, I would hate to make you feel uncomfortable, or that you need to suck up with things you don’t like just for my sake. I thought… I wanted to do you a favor by giving you space, because I know that is something you appreciate.”

Suna bit his lip, nodding “I’m sorry”

“What for?”

“Because you shouldn’t be feeling like this. I told you that day I would make you feel appreciated and it looks like I failed again. Even worse, I knew there was something, I didn’t talk to you about it sooner ‘cause I haven’t figured it out yet, if you had asked me before, I wouldn’t have known what to say. But I knew there was something, and maybe I should have tried to figure this out with you, not wait for it to be something so big, and drag you through this feeling for so long.” At this point, Suna stopped walking and took both of your hands, facing you. “I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend, and I hate it.”

“Don’t say that”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” He held your face with one of his hands, tender, while the other held your hands firmly “I love so much, and you let me show it to you any way I want. I always thought that I would do the same for you, and I’ve been doing anything but. Just stop this. I want it. I want all of you. Hughes, kisses, pats, cuddles, everything. I’m sorry it took me losing that to appreciate it, I really am. So, please, if it’s something you want to give me, if you are still willing to give it to me… I would really appreciate that.” In that last sentence, Rintarou’s voice broke a bit, and it was all that it took for you to slide your arms around him, giving gentle caresses on his head, encouraging him to nuzzle in your neck.

“I would love to, Rin” You stayed there for a bit, just holding each other. Drinking on that moment of intimacy at plain sight.

“I don’t deserve you”

“Oh, stop it” You let go, laughing. He gave you a little yet relaxed smile in return. Everything seemed to fall into place again. “C’mon now” You took one of his hands, and started walking again “I really could do with some ice cream right now.”

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

I’ll be there||Lando Norris x Platonic!Fem!Reader

Summary- Lando your best friend,your brother, your platonic soulmate is struggling hard with his mental health and y/n promises to always be there for Lando

Word count -1267

Warnings - Lando being had on himself and self loathing, hints of depression

A/n-this is how I’ve been feeling lately also the is a scheduled post I’m not back!

Lando’s apartment was a disaster. The moment Y/N stepped inside, the weight of it hit her—not just the physical mess, but the emotional one. The air felt heavy, thick with something unspoken, like grief or exhaustion. Clothes were tossed haphazardly over the couch, half-empty water bottles littered the coffee table, and the dishes in the sink had long since been abandoned. The trash bin overflowed, wrappers and empty cans scattered around it.

But the worst part wasn’t the mess.

It was Lando.

He was curled up on the couch, hood pulled over his head, body turned toward the cushions like he could disappear into them. His phone lay facedown beside him—another red flag. If Lando wasn’t glued to it, checking team updates or talking to his friends, something was really wrong.

He heard Y/N come in. He just… couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it.

Because if he looked at her, she’d see.

She’d see how fucking tired he was.

Tired of waking up every morning and feeling like he was already losing. Tired of opening his phone to see strangers ripping him apart like he was nothing more than a punching bag. Tired of pretending it didn’t get to him. That it didn’t sink into his skin like ink, staining everything.

They were right.

He wasn’t good enough. He was arrogant and had a big ego. He wasn’t championship material and he sure as hell didn’t deserve his race wins.

He didn’t even know why she was here. She should just leave him be—leave him to rot in this mess because that’s what he deserved.

But Y/N didn’t leave.

She exhaled softly, pushing up her sleeves, and started cleaning.

Lando squeezed his eyes shut.

Stop. Just leave it. It’s pointless. I’m pointless.

But she didn’t stop.

She moved around quietly, gathering the trash first—wrappers, empty bottles, things he should’ve thrown away days ago. He heard the rustle of a trash bag being tied up and set by the door. Then came the sound of dishes clinking together, water running, the rhythmic scrape of a sponge against crusted plates.

Y/N was cleaning like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like it wasn’t fucking pathetic that she even had to. He was a grown man who was perfectly capable of doing his own dishes and his laundry but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything.

Lando swallowed against the lump in his throat. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

She kept going.She wiped the counters, cleared the coffee table, picked up his clothes and folded them neatly. With every movement, the apartment became a little less suffocating, but Lando still felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He wanted to say something. To tell her to stop wasting her time.

But when he finally opened his eyes, Y/N was standing by the window, pushing it open. A fresh breeze filtered in, cool and salty from the ocean, clearing out the stale, heavy air.

That was the moment he broke a little.

Not when she cleaned.

Not when she folded his clothes or wiped down the counters.

But when she opened the window.

Because it wasn’t just about fresh air.

It was about letting him breathe again.

Y/N turned to him, finally meeting his gaze. “When’s the last time you ate?”

Lando shrugged, looking away. “Not hungry.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not an answer.”

He heard the quiet frustration in her voice, but she didn’t push. She just crouched down beside him, placing a hand on his knee.

“How about a shower first?” she suggested. “I’ll get you a clean hoodie, and when you’re done, I’ll make something for you.”

Lando hesitated. He didn’t want to be a burden. Didn’t want her to waste any more energy on him.

But Y/N wasn’t giving him a choice.

“Come on,” she said gently. “I’ll stay nearby, okay?”

Another beat of silence. Then, slowly, he nodded.

She led him to the bathroom and turned on the shower, testing the water until it was warm. Lando stood by the sink, staring at his reflection.

He hated what he saw.

Dull eyes, dark circles, skin pale from too many sleepless nights.

He didn’t even recognize himself anymore.

Y/N must’ve noticed because she helped him out of his hoodie, carefully, like he might shatter under her hands. He let her, too tired to protest.

Once he was in the shower, she stayed outside, handing him what he needed.

Lando let the water run over him, head bowed, steam curling around him. He wanted it to wash everything away—the exhaustion, the self-hatred, the voices in his head whispering that he wasn’t enough.

But it didn’t.

It never did.

When he finally stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist, Y/N was there. She handed him clean clothes and turned away as he got dressed.

Once he was done, she helped pull his hoodie over his head, hands lingering just long enough to squeeze his shoulders.

“Better?” she asked softly.

Lando swallowed. He gave a small nod.

“Good. Now sit down—I’m making you something to eat.”

“But I don’t have anything here to make,” he mumbled, picking at the side of his thumb, ashamed.

Y/N just smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing I DoorDashed some groceries.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

No one had ever done that for him before.

He obeyed, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs as she unpacked the groceries and started cooking.

She knew exactly what to make—his favorite meal.

The scent of garlic and basil filled the kitchen as she minced, stirred, and grated. Every movement was purposeful, like she was pouring care into every bite.

Lando watched her, something twisting in his chest.

“What?” Y/N asked, catching his gaze.

He swallowed. “I don’t deserve this.”

Her expression softened, but her voice was firm. “Lando, where is this coming from?”

His throat tightened. He looked down at his hands, fingers trembling.

“The hate, the comments… I see them all. People saying I’m not good enough, that I should just quit. And I know I shouldn’t care, but—” His voice cracked. “I do. And I feel like maybe they’re right.”

Y/N inhaled sharply. Then she reached for his hands, squeezing them tightly.

“The people saying that? They don’t know you. They don’t see how hard you work. They’re just bitter, lonely people who tear others down because they have nothing else.”

Lando clenched his jaw, breath shaky. “It just… it gets so heavy sometimes.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate.

She got up, wrapped her arms around him, and held him tight.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered as he finally broke, body trembling against her.

His hands gripped the back of her hoodie like a lifeline. “I’m so tired, Y/N.”

“I know,” she murmured, rubbing slow circles on his back. “But you’re not alone. I swear to you, no matter what, no matter where—I’m here. Always.”

His fingers tightened, like he was afraid she’d slip away. “What if I can’t fix this? What if it never gets better?”

Y/N cupped his face, forcing him to look at her.

“Then I’ll sit in the dark with you until it does.”

Lando’s breath hitched.

She meant it.

They stayed like that until his breathing steadied, until the weight on his chest wasn’t quite so crushing.

Eventually, Y/N nudged his plate toward him. “Eat.”

And this time, he did.

Because maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Lost Time

You didn’t mean to forget.

It was just that life had been moving at a relentless pace—school drop-offs, doctor’s appointments, laundry piles that never seemed to shrink, and the constant whirlwind of raising kids. By the time you had a moment to sit down and breathe, the day was already slipping away, and there was always something else to do.

And then, the realization hit you like a gut punch.

You were supposed to be on a plane.

Your stomach dropped as you stared at the time on your phone. Your flight to LA had taken off an hour ago. The trip to visit Marshall for the weekend—just the two of you—was something you had both been looking forward to for weeks. It was rare, getting time alone together, and now you had completely missed it.

Your hands shook as you picked up your phone, heart pounding as you scrolled to his name and hit call. It rang twice before he picked up.

“Hey, baby.” His voice was warm, but you could hear the exhaustion behind it. “You landed okay?”

You swallowed hard, pressing your fingers against your forehead. “Marshall…”

Something in your tone must have told him everything he needed to know, because there was a pause.

“…What happened?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I—I forgot,” you admitted, voice thick with guilt. “I missed my flight.”

Another silence stretched between you. The disappointment was palpable, even through the phone.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, and it made your stomach twist even more.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t even have a good excuse. I just—everything’s been so crazy with the kids and running around, and I lost track of time. I didn’t even realize until just now.”

Marshall let out a slow exhale, and you could picture him rubbing his hand down his face the way he always did when he was frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “Damn, baby,” he finally said, voice softer now. “I was looking forward to seeing you.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I know, I was too.”

You could hear the hurt in his voice, and it broke you. Marshall never asked for much—he understood how busy life got, how much the kids needed you, but this was supposed to be your time. And now you had let him down.

There was a long pause before he spoke again. “You could try and get another flight tomorrow,” he suggested, but you already knew it wasn’t that simple.

“Marshall… I don’t think I can. The kids—”

“I know,” he cut in, but there was no anger in his tone, just understanding. And maybe that made it even worse.

You closed your eyes, willing the lump in your throat to disappear. “I feel awful.”

“I know you do,” he said, quieter this time. “But I get it, babe. You got a million things on your plate.”

You wiped at your face, hating that you were tearing up. “I just—I don’t want you to think I don’t care. Or that I don’t want to be there.”

“Never,” he said immediately, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. “You do everything for us, for the kids. I know you love me. I know you wanted to come.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I really did.”

Marshall was quiet for a beat. Then, he sighed. “I miss you, though.”

The admission made your chest ache. “I miss you too,” you whispered.

There was another pause, then his voice turned a little softer, a little playful. “You know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“You owe me.”

Despite the guilt still hanging over you, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Oh, do I?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Big time. I want a whole weekend when I get back. No interruptions, no running around—just me and you.”

You exhaled, already nodding. “Deal.”

“Good.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sitting in the quiet together. Even from miles away, he still had a way of making you feel grounded.

“I’ll call you later?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Get some rest, baby. You work too damn hard.”

You smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the call ended, you sat there for a moment, still kicking yourself for forgetting. But if there was one thing you knew about Marshall, it was that he’d always understand. And you’d make it up to him—one way or another.

---

The guilt still sat heavy in your chest, even after Marshall reassured you he understood. Missing your flight wasn’t just about forgetting a plan—it was about forgetting him, even if just for a moment. And you never wanted him to feel like an afterthought.

So, you were going to fix it.

The kids were finally asleep, the house was quiet, and after staring at your phone for a few minutes, you decided you weren’t just going to wait until he got back. You could still make the weekend about him.

You called him.

It rang twice before he picked up, his voice groggy. “Babe?”

“Hey,” you whispered, biting your lip. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” he exhaled, and you could hear him shifting. “I was just laying here. What’s up?”

You hesitated for half a second before deciding to just go for it. “I wanted to make it up to you.”

Marshall chuckled, low and rough. “Oh yeah? How you gonna do that from a thousand miles away?”

You grinned, settling back against your pillows. “I have a few ideas.”

Silence. Then—“Shit.” His voice was lower now, already catching on. “You tryna kill me, woman?”

“Maybe,” you teased, running your fingers lightly over your bare skin. “You said I owe you. Figured I should start paying up.”

Marshall groaned, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine. “You got my full attention, baby.”

~~~

The next morning, you woke up to a text from him.

Marshall: Damn. Now I really can’t wait to get home.

You smirked, typing back.

You: Told you I’d make it up to you.

A second later, another text popped up.

Marshall: Oh, you’re not off the hook yet. I’m making you pay up in person.

You bit your lip, already feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

You: I’m counting on it.

---

The second you saw the flight tracker update, confirming Marshall was on his way home, you sprang into action.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love having the kids around—you did. But after missing your weekend together, you owed him something uninterrupted. No little voices calling for you, no last-minute homework emergencies, no laundry, no distractions. Just you and him.

So, you started making arrangements.

By early Friday evening, the house was quiet. Your daughters were off at their friends’ houses, giggling about sleepovers and promising to text if they needed anything. You stood at the door after drop-offs, staring into the empty house, nerves buzzing in anticipation.

This was actually happening.

It had been so long since you and Marshall had a weekend to yourselves. Between parenting, his career, and the never-ending responsibilities of life, time together had been sacrificed more than either of you liked. But now, for the next two days, he was yours.

And you were not going to waste it.

You sent him a text as you walked through the quiet house, already thinking about what to wear, what to do, how to make this weekend one he wouldn’t forget.

You: House is empty. Just me waiting on you.

A moment later, your phone buzzed.

Marshall: That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Plane just landed. Be home soon.

You smiled, your heart hammering in your chest.

Time to welcome him home properly.

~~~

You were practically pacing by the time you heard the front door open.

Marshall barely had a second to step inside before you were on him, arms wrapping around his neck, pressing yourself against him. His duffel bag hit the floor with a thud as his arms instantly circled your waist, holding you close.

“Damn,” he murmured, burying his face against your neck. “Missed you too, huh?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head so he could press his lips against your skin. “So much.”

His hands tightened around you, like he didn’t want to let go. “Thought about you all weekend,” he admitted. “Then you go and tell me the house is empty? You tryna kill me, baby?”

You smirked, pulling back just enough to look at him. “You said I owe you, right?”

His blue eyes darkened, hands sliding lower on your waist. “Damn right you do.”

You bit your lip, grabbing his hoodie and tugging him toward the bedroom.

“Then let me start paying up.”

---

The second the bedroom door shut, Marshall wasted no time. His hands were on you before you could even take another step, pulling you flush against him, his body heat searing through his hoodie and jeans.

“You really sent the kids away for the whole weekend?” he murmured, his breath warm against your jaw as he pressed lazy kisses along your skin.

You hummed, sliding your hands under his hoodie, fingertips tracing over his stomach. “Mmhmm. No distractions. No interruptions. Just you and me.”

Marshall let out a low groan, gripping your hips. “You tryna make me fall even more in love with you or what?”

You grinned, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Maybe.”

He exhaled sharply, then suddenly, his hands were on your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, dropping you down onto the mattress before climbing over you, caging you in.

“You don’t know how bad I needed this,” he admitted, his voice rough, his eyes locked on yours. “Needed you.”

Your fingers tangled in the front of his hoodie, pulling him down until your lips brushed against his. “Then take what you need.”

And he did.

~~~

Hours later, you lay tangled together in the sheets, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers traced lazy circles along your back, his touch light, comforting.

“I should’ve just flown home early,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “Screw LA. This is where I wanna be.”

You smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss against his skin. “Well, you’re here now.”

He sighed, squeezing you closer. “Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You shifted, propping yourself up on one elbow so you could look at him. “Promise?”

He cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing over your skin as his eyes softened. “Swear on everything.”

Your heart swelled, and you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a slow, lingering kiss.

For the first time in weeks, there were no schedules to keep, no places to be. Just you and him, making up for lost time.

---

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred slightly, shifting against the warmth wrapped around you, only to feel Marshall tighten his grip. His arms were locked around your waist, his face buried in your hair, his breaths slow and steady against your skin.

"Mm-mm," he murmured, voice thick with sleep. "Not movin' yet."

You smiled, stretching slightly before settling back against him. "Not even to eat?"

Marshall let out a groggy sigh, but instead of answering, he kissed the top of your shoulder, his lips lazy and warm. "M’too comfortable," he admitted. "Stay a little longer."

You turned in his arms, brushing his messy hair back from his face. He looked softer like this—sleepy, relaxed, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

"You wanna take a bath?" you offered, running your fingers lightly over his jaw. "Then I’ll let you go back to being a human blanket."

His eyes cracked open just enough to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, alright," he muttered. "Long as I don’t gotta do any work."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Just sit there and be pretty, babe."

He chuckled, stretching before finally releasing you from his grip, letting you drag him out of bed.

~~~

The hot water soothed your sore muscles, but the real comfort was the way Marshall held you. He sat behind you in the oversized tub, his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. His fingers traced light patterns along your stomach as the steam curled around both of you.

"Could stay like this forever," he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to the side of your neck.

You smiled, tilting your head back slightly against his chest. "We kinda have to eat at some point."

Marshall huffed, but reached for his phone resting on the edge of the tub. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

"You say that now, but if I order somethin’ weird, you’re gonna give me that look," he teased.

You turned your head to glance at him. "What look?"

"The ‘Marshall, what the hell is this?’ look," he mimicked in a higher-pitched voice, making you laugh.

"Just order, dork," you said, nudging him.

He smirked, placing the order before setting his phone aside. "Done. Now stop distracting me, I’m tryna relax."

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, you loved how soft he was being. He wasn’t always like this—he had his tough exterior, his walls, the weight of his career always hanging over him. But with you, in moments like this, he let himself just be.

And you cherished every second of it.

~~~

By lunchtime, the food had long since been eaten, and you were curled up together in bed, mindlessly watching something on TV. But as you looked over at Marshall, you could tell his mind was elsewhere. His brows were drawn slightly, his jaw tense, fingers absently tapping against his stomach.

You reached over, running your hand along his arm. "What’s on your mind?"

He exhaled sharply, his fingers stilling. "I dunno," he muttered. "Just… been thinkin’."

"About what?"

His eyes flickered toward you before he sighed. "Does it make me a bad dad that I needed this? Like, two weeks away from the kids, and instead of gettin’ home and spendin’ time with them right away, I just—" He gestured vaguely between you two. "I just wanted this. You."

You frowned, sitting up slightly. "Marshall—"

"Nah, I mean, I love them more than anything, you know that," he said quickly. "Just… what kinda dad dips out for two weeks, then sends them away for the weekend soon as he gets back?"

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "The kind of dad who also needs to take care of his relationship," you said softly. "The kind of dad who gives everything to his kids, but also deserves time for himself. And with me."

Marshall exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "I just don’t ever want them to feel like I’m not there enough."

"You are there," you assured him. "And they adore you. But you can’t pour from an empty cup, babe. We needed this time, too. You needed it."

He let out a slow breath, nodding slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, you’re right."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. "You’re an amazing dad, Marshall. The girls know it, I know it. And this weekend doesn’t change that."

He gave a small, grateful smile, tugging you closer. "Love you," he murmured against your hair.

"Love you too," you whispered.

And as he held you tighter, you could feel the tension finally start to melt away.

---

The weekend had been everything you and Marshall needed—slow, intimate, and uninterrupted. But as Sunday afternoon rolled around, reality crept back in.

You were curled up on the couch together, your head resting on his chest while he mindlessly ran his fingers through your hair. The TV was on, but neither of you were really paying attention.

Marshall sighed, his grip tightening around you. “Guess we should probably get the kids soon, huh?”

You hummed, tracing light circles on his stomach. “Probably.”

Neither of you moved.

Marshall let out a low chuckle. “We’re terrible.”

You grinned, tilting your head up to look at him. “Or maybe we just really needed this.”

His blue eyes softened as he brushed a thumb over your cheek. “Yeah… we did.”

You leaned into his touch, savoring the last few moments of quiet before everything picked up again. “But we should go before they start thinking we abandoned them.”

Marshall sighed dramatically, shifting under you. “Fine. But only ‘cause I don’t want them tellin’ their friends their dad ditched ‘em for their mom.”

You laughed, pushing yourself up. “C’mon, let’s go get our babies.”

~~~

The drive was filled with comfortable conversation, Marshall tapping along to the beat of a song playing low on the radio.

“You think they missed us?” he asked as he pulled into the driveway of your oldest’s friend’s house.

You smirked. “I think they missed you more. You’re the fun parent.”

He scoffed, throwing the car in park. “Nah, they just like me ‘cause I let ‘em stay up too late.”

You laughed, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Exactly.”

The front door swung open before either of you could get out, and your daughter came sprinting toward the car.

“DADDY!”

Marshall barely had time to react before she jumped into his arms, wrapping herself around him.

“Damn, girl,” he grunted, catching her with ease. “You act like I was gone for a year.”

She giggled, squeezing his neck. “Two weeks is a long time!”

You watched as his entire face softened, his arms holding her tight against him. That doubt he had earlier about needing time with you? Gone. Because no matter what, your girls knew he loved them.

And as your other daughter came running from the house, yelling “Daddy!” just as loud, you knew there was no place he’d rather be.

---

The house was filled with warmth, laughter, and the soft hum of a movie playing in the background. The four of you were curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets, limbs tangled together as you soaked in the simple joy of being close.

Marshall sat in the middle, your youngest daughter curled up against his chest, her tiny fingers clutching onto his hoodie like she was afraid he might disappear again. Your oldest was tucked under his other arm, her head resting against his side. And you? You were right next to him, your legs draped over his as he absentmindedly traced circles on your thigh with his fingertips.

“This is the best night ever,” your youngest mumbled sleepily, nuzzling further into her dad’s chest.

Marshall smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, baby?”

She nodded against him. “Mhm. I like when we’re all together like this.”

You glanced at him, and the way his eyes softened made your heart clench. He had spent so much time worrying about being away, about taking time for himself and for you. But right now, in this moment, it was obvious—he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Me too, baby,” he murmured, holding her a little closer.

Your oldest yawned, shifting to get more comfortable against him. “Can we do this every night?”

Marshall let out a soft chuckle. “If it means I get to cuddle with my girls? Hell yeah.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Guess that means we’re never leaving this couch.”

He turned his head to press a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a beat longer than necessary. “Sounds perfect to me.”

The movie played on, but none of you were really watching anymore. The girls slowly started drifting off, their soft breaths mixing with the low hum of the TV.

Marshall exhaled, his arm tightening around you. “This,” he murmured, voice low, like he didn’t want to wake them. “This is all I ever need.”

You looked up at him, your heart full. “Me too.”

And as you sat there, wrapped in the warmth of your little family, you knew—there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

[hrrtshape]

hi, I would like to ask about something delicate.

So I read this post: https://www.tumblr.com/hrrtshape/774647947 714510848/insane-dream-like-things-that-were-normal-in-my?source=share

And before going deeper, I would like to ask. Did poverty exist in your Better CR? Did racism, misogyny, xenophobia and bigotry overall exist on your reality?

It's obvious that elitism and classism existed though, unless I'm wrong? I'd like to understand how you see the privileges in the context of the larger picture-do you ever think about how they might affect other people? I mean why and how does these privileges exist?

If all of those things existed, and the only thing that you changed is your life (I'm assuming here, nothing is concrete), did you feel any guilt? I mean if you changed only your life, and everything else is similar to this reality, you must be aware that no one, even "old money" people, have fair clean and clear money. And you "hinted" about that too, so....

Let's say for example, if you're wearing a diamond necklace, did you think about the fact that diamonds are basically a scam (literally worthless carbon rocks) and a lot of precious stones come from child labour? Did you think about the fact that a lot of Dubai's architecture comes from basically slavery? Or the fact that a lot of cacau and other foods comes from also child labour? Did you think about western imperialism and the fact that some parts of South America, Africa, Asia and etc, are basically funding your "dirty" lifestyle? Did you thought about the fact that a lot of aristocratic wealth comes from economic inequality?

Where you socially, environmentally and economically aware of your planet? Was there climate change? What about rich people that profit off war, selling guns, etc?

Did you ever tried to change anything? Or was this just for your own entertainment and curiosity, you just wanted to KNOW exactly how the top 1% lived.

Did you ever thought about the fact that since everything is possible, you could create a reality with all that luxury, but no harm involved?

And why I am asking this? I’m speaking as someone who’s been directly affected by these systems of oppression. It’s kinda infuriating and quite weird to see. It represents a nightmare—one where wealth and power are built on the backs of the suffering and exploitation of others. So I'm curious.

Again I'm just assuming you say yes to my first question. If you say no, you're really cool and you can ignore everything else.

And other shifters with similar DRs, do you feel any guilt? Do you remove all the pain and suffering from the history of humanity on your DRs or just change your life?

Just curious. There's no right or wrong, just pure consciousness. And you can do anything with it. ANYTHING. How do feel about that? I sometimes feel like nothing matters anyways. It's all just pure awareness.

Sorry for any orthographic errors. Byeeeeeee

oh my god. okay. okay. pulling up my sleeves, opening a tab, cracking my knuckles like i’m about to go to war but it’s just a tuesday on the internet. let’s chat.

so, first of all, hi. i love you. i love your brain. you’ve got the existential gears turning, the consciousness unraveling, the pure distilled awareness pouring through your words like a spilled drink on an expensive rug. and that’s gorgeous. i wanna bottle it.

now, about my better cr. here’s the thing. i went in. i sculpted it with the obsessive precision of a renaissance painter losing his mind over a single brushstroke. i took the world and shook it like a snow globe until all the nasty, rotting, exploitative stuff just… wasn’t there anymore. no racism. no misogyny. no classism, no xenophobia, none of that ugly, ancient, sticky, systemic mess. it’s gone. poof. history course deleted. like an unsent text.

but luxury? beauty? the glittering, heart-stopping, how-is-this-even-real kind of life..... that’s there. but it’s not built on suffering. it’s not stitched together with cruelty. in my better cr, wealth isn’t some dragon hoard of stolen gold. it’s light, it’s fluid, it moves in a way that uplifts instead of crushes. diamonds are not mined by little hands. fashion is not a web of exploitation. everything is clean, clear, crystalline. like drinking water straight from a glacier.

and do i think about this? do i consider the weight of privilege, the architecture of power? constantly. because i think the world we know is proof that it doesn’t have to be like this. if i can craft a reality where the ivory towers aren’t built on bones, why wouldn’t i?

so no, there’s no guilt. not because i don’t care, but because there’s nothing to feel guilty about. no systems of oppression funding my morning espresso. no hidden horrors behind the curtains. just a life that is, simply, fully, truly, good.

and maybe that’s the point of all of this. to see what could be, not just what is. to play god, but the nice one. the one who builds, not burns.

hope that makes sense. hope you’re somewhere warm, drinking something sweet. xx

[rozugold]

I finished arcane btw :]

[moe-broey]

Mani voice Collect My Pages

ELABORATE. ELABORATE FUCKING SHITPOST. That I simultaneously put WAY too much effort/thought into, while just. Giving up and half-assing it near the end LMFAOO

This was. An extremely funny characterization realization moment for me though, writing something else w Mani. The thought of, "Wait why the fuck does it have the same exact cadence of the Green M&M post???"

Anyways I absolutely cheated by editing this LMFAOO I'll put the typically edited version under cut! (For lighting/color correcting ect ect) Also a link to the post I'm reffing!

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

god is swuarshing me beneath his thumb like i am an aphid or perhaps a clover mite. yeah. its slow and painful and im small. and also meek

[sskk-manifesto]

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[away-ward]

Hey KO, pd said the reason damon named fane.. fane was to honor rika's father since he respected him after realizing her father still wanted to raise him despite his origin. he wasnt named to honor rika but to honor her father.

That's great actually, and it makes sense. Thanks for the clarification.

[deus-ex-mona]

such is the tale of a ✨chronically online hypocrite✨

[imminent-danger-came]

Part of me, deep deep down, wonders if we still may have a scene of MK on his knees versus his friends a la 4x07