#no worries if not happy to have you here!

[supportgaza]

Traumatized in Ireland While my Family is Facing Death and Starvation in Gaza

Note: Vetted by:

1. @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi # 151 on the spreadsheet of Vetted Gaza Fundraisers List]

2. @riding-with-the-wild-hunt Here .

I contemplate the happy faces of people around me here in Ireland and reminisce about the happy normal life my family and I had before the war. A life that turned into a distant memory for us and was replaced by an unending series of horrible nightmares.

Unlike my family in Gaza, people here have access to drinking water, all types of food, electricity, and a roof over their heads. Above all, they are safe, and I cannot help but wonder if they genuinely do appreciate these blessings in their lives enough.

People seem relaxed and laughing wholeheartedly around me in Ireland. I wish I could laugh too, but I am crushed way beyond recovery on the inside. I was evacuated by my Irish college after five months of living the horrors of war in Gaza. I hope you will never know what it feels like to live in constant fear and worry and be horrified by the most sickening and scary nightmares every single night while you are far away from your family in such circumstances.

When did my people in Gaza cease to be human beings worthy and deserving of a normal life? Has it become normal now for my family in Gaza to be starved and killed while the whole world is watching the genocide? If that is the case, then you will have to excuse me if I seek every avenue to bring them to Ireland and start a new normal life like all people here around me.

I was assured by the Irish Reugee Council (IRC) and lawyers in Ireland that there is hope I can reunite with my family in Ireland. In difficult times, it is hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. For me and my family, you are literally our light and hope for a better life.

SOS!

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[crazyvik97rpg]

By the time the nurse left again, it was already pretty dark outside. William came late today, later than yesterday at least. Visiting hours would be over soon and Sebastian was pouting already just thinking about it. He didn't take notice how closely William had watched the nurse, just to be prepared to change the bandages himself one day. He didn't notice the fact that William didn't shave, didn't quite notice the dark circles under his eyes. Sebastian was in his own little world with his own many, many worries and he simply...didn't think about it. His whole world was narrowed down to 'I have cancer and I could die' so he was kind of just focused on that. A never ending state of constant worry and anxiety. Except for the times when William was here and Sebastian could distract himself.

This man was his source of happiness, of calmness. They held hands, looked at each other, chatted. It was everything. Sebastian felt William's warm hands, his soft skin, heard his gentle voice - for a little moment he could pretend everything was fine.

"...I will ask Dr Cole for details about my discharge date tomorrow. Maybe I can even go already on Saturday? Although I'm not sure if they even discharge anyone on weekends...", Sebastian sighed softly, thinking, "What are you doing tomorrow? Any special plans for school, I mean? And how is church going? You're not really doing masses in the evening lately, are you? Are you...gonna visit tomorrow too?"

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[fastandcarlos]

The House Of Piastri : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: the one where you and oscar move into a place that you can finally call your own

“Welcome to the house of Piastri!” Oscar chimed, turning the key and opening up the place that was finally yours. “Our very first home,” Oscar grinned, throwing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you in. 

It was far from perfect, there were moving boxes everywhere, little decoration, and many of the rooms were uncoordinated, but it was your place. Just for you and Oscar. There was no one else around, nothing to interrupt you both anymore. 

“Where do we begin?” You laughed, pressing your fingers to your temple. “What have we signed ourselves up for?” You asked Oscar, glancing across at him. His smile was wide, a lot more optimistic than you were at the adventure that you had ahead of you. 

When Oscar suggested the two of you think about finding your own place after moving to Monaco, you jumped at the chance. It was a big deal for you both, having only ever lived separately before, but after leaving home in order to support Oscar, you knew you couldn’t be alone. 

“Doesn’t it just feel right though?” Oscar whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I can already see how amazing it’s going to look, even if it doesn’t look that way right now.” 

Your head nodded in agreement with Oscar, no doubt that it was a place you’d feel happy calling your home. You and Oscar had so many plans, you’d spent hours awake at night talking through your ideas, searching online for some inspiration of what you’d like. 

“The view is beautiful too,” you hummed, taking a few steps forward across the room to where your balcony was. “I don’t think I’ll tire of looking out here, it’s beautiful.” 

“Almost as beautiful as you,” Oscar chimed, watching as your eyes rolled. “What? I’m only being honest; it doesn’t quite compare to you.” 

Oscar took your hand again, leading you across to where the sofa was just beside the balcony. You sat against his side, back pressed against his chest as Oscar rested his head on top of yours. It was about the only piece of furniture that you had built and ready to go, having taken most of the day to get it delivered and set up, but it left you both excited for all the hard work that was to come.  

It felt like a dream as you looked around the apartment, neither you or Oscar could quite believe that you were finally there, after months of planning and waiting around. 

“Imagine how beautiful this is going to be soon,” Oscar whispered into your ear, “I can see us spending forever here, growing old, maybe even raising a family too.” 

Your eyes widened as Oscar spoke, not quite knowing what to say. He felt your body tense up, worried that maybe he’d said the wrong thing, got too ahead of himself in amongst all of the excitement of moving in. 

Oscar mumbled an apology across to you. “I didn’t mean to say that, it’s just a maybe one day kind of thing. I guess I’m just excited for the future now that we’re finally here.” 

It wasn’t that you were scared, but you’d never really heard Oscar talk about your future plans before. You were both so young, and had so much time ahead of you, although you knew most of your time now was going to be spent building, decorating, and trying to get your home look a little more homely.  

“Don’t be sorry,” you smiled up at Oscar, “there’s no need to be sorry. I like that you’re thinking about these sorts of things. Forever is a long time though; we don’t know where the future is going to take us.” 

“I’d live anywhere as long as I had you with me,” Oscar mused, “I’d live in a rubbish bin as long as you were there, even if you would end up smelling a bit.” 

“Moving in has really got you thinking about things, hasn’t it?” 

Oscar nodded, kissing against the top of your head. “I guess moving in with you has made me so happy, I’m just excited now for what’s going to come next.” 

“I’ll give you a clue...a heck of a lot of painting,” you teased. 

It was going to take many hours to get the apartment as you wanted it, but you and Oscar knew that together you’d get it done. You didn’t want the easy option when it came to finding your home, but even this was a harder challenge than either of you could imagine. 

“Think about all the memories that we’re going to make here,” Oscar spoke, “we’ll be able to have friends over, family can stay when they visit, and just stay here together too.” 

It was a big move, not only had you found a new city, but you’d found a new country too. Luckily for you, many of the other drivers who were already out there had been more than willing to help you out, offering their services whenever you needed them. 

“I think once we’re unpacked and decorated, I’ll feel happier, your mum would be mortified if she knew we were living here with the state of this place right now,” you replied. 

“She can’t wait to visit,” Oscar laughed, “I think she might be more excited than us about this.” 

Everyone around you couldn’t wait to see you move in together, you were inseparable at the best of times and it was only a matter of time. Your parents, and Oscar’s, especially had pushed you to move in, desperate to see you in a place you could call your own. 

“It’s going to be crazy, but there’s no one else I’d like to move in with and decorate my first home alongside.” 

Your head nodded in agreement with Oscar, as terrifying as it was, you were beyond excited too. Your vision was clear, and one thing you were absolutely confident of was the fact that you were absolutely going to love living there, especially with Oscar there too. 

“You know, when all of this is done, we’ll be able to sit here and think about how lucky we are.” 

Your head tilted back to look up at Oscar, “I already feel lucky enough as it is. You’re here, and we’re in Monaco, what could be better than that?” 

“I really do appreciate you moving all the way out here to support me,” Oscar whispered, “not many people would move across the world for their partner. It’s a huge sacrifice to make, I just hope that it’s worthwhile being here for you.” 

“It’s worth it, wherever you go, I go,” you replied, reminding him of the promise that you made to each other. “Anyway, Monaco is definitely the place that feels like home now too.” 

Oscar glanced down with a smile, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you right now. I think I could get used to living here, with you.” 

“I agree, this is beyond anything that I could have ever dreamed of.” 

“It’s not just an apartment anymore, it’s our home,” Oscar said, “a place we can finally call our own.” 

“The house of Piastri, it’s perfect.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Am I the only one that things that sator would be just so cute like if he got a little bit of a tummy? nothing major he'd still look the same everywhere else just soften up a bit around his belly. I think it be nice to touch while cuddling.

(This was anon request that was sent in for cinna but cinna deleted it since they made a mistake and the request had disappeared)

LMFAO let’s try this again… sorry again for accidentally deleting the request!!!

i actually think you’re so right anon.

i imagine that after being put back together after the incident of 236…. satoru’s forced to retire. his friends and peers love him, but it’s time for him to relax and not worry about being the strongest anymore. they can take it from here.

while he’s relaxing during his retirement, he finds that his love for the sweets you bake stays incredibly high while his routine for working out slowly starts to slip…

he doesn’t have to be the strongest anymore, right? he can slack a little…

and his body naturally grows a bit of scar tissue, and maybe some fat around the scar that hugs his lower belly. it’s a natural preventative measure that the body takes on it’s own.

when he looks in the mirror after a shower, he sees a small bit of pudge around his lower belly, and he pokes at it with a small frown on his face. he’s still toned, but he’s not chiseled anymore.

was he letting himself go? were you going to notice? what if you didn’t love him anymore?

you step into the bathroom, being the pervy girlfriend you are, you can’t resist the charm of seeing your handsome boyfriend with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“hey- i’m glad you’re here. can i ask you something?” satoru asks in an uncharacteristically serious tone. you tense a bit, wondering what he might ask. was he not enjoying retirement? was he already trying to go back?

“go ahead, honey.” you prompt.

“are you into bigger guys-?”

you gape at him, wondering what kind of fucking question was that. you have to crane your head up to look at your boyfriend. it should be pretty obvious how you like your men.

seeing your expression, satoru lets out a laugh. he pokes his stomach again. “i think you’re trying to fatten me up on purpose, sweets… makin’ all those delicious desserts. you know i can’t resist them. evil, evil woman.” he teases with his signature lopsided grin.

“you caught me.” you play along, letting out a small laugh. you look down at where the towel is sitting snuggly along his hips. the scar from the attack is staring back at you, but you don’t feel fear when you look at it anymore. you see your husband: happy and healthy.. finally not putting his body in duress to protect the world.

dropping to your knees, you press sweet kisses all along satoru’s tummy, making him giggle and shy away from you. “stop it! that tickles! sick, evil woman! evil!”

it’s safe to say that satoru is loving retirement, and you’re loving it too.

[dreamertf]

Follow the Instructions

/hello! Hope you enjoy this one, im gonna start tagging ai as #ai tf so if you dont want to see any ai images in your tfs you can block that tag. Ill also be putting a disclaimer at the top of each post that has ai.

/contains ai images & video

/includes; muscle growth, suggestion tf, straight to gay tf

"Yeah, Im feeling fine!"

Jason was tired of how weak and scrawny his best friend Max stayed throughout their time in high school and now, college. So he had given Max a new black market roid that promised to "make him a bro." He crushed up a few of the pills without looking at the instructions and baked it into a cookie he gave Max.

Jason wasn't so bad himself, 6'4" and muscular, with a charming face. Little did he know that his height that he had since he was a sophmore in highschool would be changing.

Jason stared at Max as his skin started to ripple and shift.

"Are you sure?"

"Never better, bro."

Max ripped his shirt off as his muscles swelled. A deep canyon of rippling abs leading up to two giant slabs of muscle. He flexed and stretched as his biceps filled out.

"Sorry, im feeling a little hot." Max said non chalantly. His muscles continued to grow as he flexed them.

"Oh my god it worked"

"What worked?"

"Oh nothing, dont worry about it."

"Ok brah"

Their surrounds changed from school as it turned into a living room, a living room Jason had been in so many times before, Max's living room. All of a sudden, Jason felt a pull towards Max. He couldn't stop looking at him, like literally. He traced Max's outline as each muscle became more prominent. He stared at the giant as he grew taller and taller, but something wasn't right. It was like everything around Jason was getting taller too.

Unfortunately, Jason hadn't looked into how the roid actually worked. On the back of the small blue box, it read ;

Are you tired of being weak and nerdy? We got you covered. We believe the human mind is a powerful tool, and our Bro Pill helps you to use it to your full potential! Not only does it shift your mindset to be more focused on sports and the bros, but it also changes various other aspects of your life in order to fit your new you! We recommend taking one pill weekly until desired affects.

WARNING: taking more than one pill a week may intensify the effect you have on other people

Jason panicked as he felt himself losing muscle and height. His features softened as he turned from a rugged man into a young 20 something twink. It looks like the god of Jason's creation has type cast him as his twinky boyfriend. Making Max a jock apparently didn't override his sexuality.

"What are you doing to me?"

His voice was still deep, too deep for someone like him.

"Make that voice a little higher, and can you please quit being so worried brah? Be like me, stop thinkin as much little guy huhuhu."

A wave of relief came over Jason as he collapsed onto the couch. His body continued to shrink as he lost his height, becoming about 5'6" compared to Max's new 6'8". His musculature toned down more, not as defined anymore.

"Whatever you say babe" Jason giggled, his voice much higher and more flamboyant.

"Thats my pretty boy." Conversely, Max's voice became much deeper and demanding. Jason felt himself starting to get hornier.

"I'm so happy i couldfind you. Your ass was like made for my dick huhuhu" Max said as he spread his legs wide as his pouch grew bigger. He had one more explosive growth as his shoulder broadened and his pecs filled out more. Jason shifted in his seat as his ass grew more plump and muscular.

"What do you mean?" Jason feigned innocence, turning the ditziness all the way up.

"Come here and I'll show you, slut."

[ceruark]

yan! hsr x willing! reader headcanons

yan! aventurine, boothill, kafka, sunday [separate] x willing! gn! reader words: 1,017 requested by: @canigotosleep--plz (original request attached at end of post) cw: yandere themes: obsession, stalking, abduction a/n: thank you so much for the ask! i might do more later, but here's what i wrote for now :>

Aventurine

How interesting that you’ve decided to turn his infatuation with you into a mutually beneficial transaction.

He knows that at this point you’ve realized he’s stalking you, and yet you’ve done absolutely nothing to stop it. You don’t try to shake him off your trail when he strides just a few paces behind you when you’re outside, and you haven’t tried to look for and destroy the cameras or hidden microphones that you must have figured out are in your home. 

No, instead you speak more openly about things you want, and what you would expect from your future partner. Your friends and family think it’s just you being a hopeless romantic, but Aventurine knows better. These signals are meant for him, and he’s more than happy to indulge you. You receive gifts of the highest quality that, in the past, you could only dream of owning— and in the meantime, he’s paying to have your dream home constructed.

When he finally shows up on your doorstep to “abduct” you, you’re more than happy to pack the belongings you’d like to bring with you into a suitcase and follow him into a luxury car that you’re pretty sure isn’t even on the public market yet. 

You never kick up a fuss with him, not even when he’s far clingier and possessive than anyone in a healthy relationship should be. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who showers you with affection, provides for you, and gives you whatever you want, whenever you want it— what could you possibly complain about?

He’s content with how things are. Some might say you’re just using him, but he doesn’t mind. If you are just playing a part, you play it well, and he’s more than happy to reward you for it.

Boothill

He might be more concerned with his own behavior if he wasn’t so worried about your reaction to it.

You’re fine with someone following you around and watching over you? You want to leave behind your boring, mundane life and not have to worry about making a living for yourself?

Your mindset makes him paranoid and makes him far more protective: would you react like this with anyone who showed this kind of sick, twisted interest in you? It gives him all the more reason to take you away and keep you by his side— he has to do it before someone else does. You’re so vulnerable and naive, and he doesn’t trust anyone but himself to be with you.

It’s smooth sailing after the not-really-an-abduction, though. You’ve always wanted to see what exists beyond the starry sky of your small hometown, and he’s always on the run, so there’s plenty of places for you two to explore together. He might not ever be able to settle down with you, but you’ve found you much prefer the whirlwind life with your sweetheart cowboy, anyway.

Your willingness scares him, but it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s the one looking after you, you’ve both got nothing to worry about.

Kafka

Oh, what a sweet little thing you are for her.

Truth be told, she was fully prepared to take you by force— she is one of the most feared people in the cosmos, after all. You were going to come with her, whether you liked it or not. She didn’t care if you cried, screamed, and fought her every step of the way; people can be picked apart and remolded, and manipulation is second nature to her.

But surrendering yourself so easily just saves her the time and hassle, and you will certainly be rewarded for it. The most lavish gifts you can imagine are handed to you, and when she’s not taking care of a mission Elio has assigned to her, she’s taking you to the nicest places in every corner of the cosmos. She loves showing you off, and she won’t settle for anything less than the best for you.

She’s honestly not surprised that you’re willing to go with her. She’d watched you for sometime, and she’d seen how miserable you’d been working so hard to provide for yourself and just barely getting by. There’s no need for that anymore, and she’s so glad you both agree that she’s what’s best for you. Just lay your head in her lap and be good for her— she’ll take care of the rest.

Sunday

He’s overjoyed that you see things his way without him having to use the Harmony.

You’d noticed he’d been stalking you. Careful as he was, it’s difficult not to pick up on the fact that you’re “coincidentally” running into someone a bit too frequently. Yet, you did nothing to stop it or discourage it. You had the attention of the most powerful and handsome man in Penacony— why would you complain about that?

Waking up in an unimaginably plush bed within Dewlight Pavilion does throw you off a bit, though. One moment you were chatting with Sunday over drinks at the Dreamjolt Holstery, feeling a bit sleepy, and the next thing you know, you’re here.

You are upset with him when he explains himself and why he’s brought you here, but not at all for the reason he’d been expecting. He could have just asked, honestly. And quite frankly, you’re a bit offended he didn’t even bother to properly court you before taking you away and making you live with him. Isn’t that, like, kind of indecent?

Once he recognizes your willingness, though, he’s relieved. There’s no need to pout any longer, dear. Of course he’ll court you properly now that he’s got you somewhere he knows you’ll be safe and sound. Should you need or want anything, just name it, and your designated attendants will have it for you in an instant. Any minute of his time not spent taking care of Penacony is spent on you, holding you close and indulging your every whim.

Others might be devastated about being locked up, but you’re more than content with the gilded cage you’ve been provided, and you’ve taken quite the liking to your keeper.

Original Request:

[ellecdc]

Hi 🥺I’m thinking either

“yes the both of you look adorable, but can i please have my clothes back now?”

Or the “do any of the clothes you’re wearing belong to you?”

Or a little combo with rosekiller x reader 🖤

YES

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who has plenty of clothes of her own [486 words]

CW: somewhat smutty implication at the end but fades to black, fluffffffffff

“Treasure,” Evan could hear Barty start in what he knew to be his ‘I’m pretending to be chiding but actually find all of this rather funny’ voice, “if this is your way of telling us you need more clothes, we're more than happy to buy you more clothes.”

“I don’t need more clothes!” You laughed in response as Evan made his way down the hallway with his morning cup of coffee to see what the two of you were going on about. 

“Well it looks like you had a pretty hard time finding anything of your own to wear today; forgive me for being worried we weren’t spoiling you enough.” 

Evan rounded the corner into the living room to see you lounging on the sofa; one leg tucked under you and the other bent at the knee that your hand was resting on whilst Barty hovered above you with a faux berating look on his face. 

“What’s going on in here?” Evan asked as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head from behind the couch before making his way around it and settling in the space beside you. 

“What’s going on,” Barty started theatrically, causing you to snort - the sound made the very corner of Barty’s lips rise in the ghost of a smirk before he schooled his expression, “is that our darling angel clearly does not have enough of her own things.”

“Is that true, sugar?” Evan asked you as he played into Barty’s little skit. “Do we not spoil you enough?”

“You spoil me fine.” You groaned, laughing when both boys scoffed in offence. “You spoil me plenty - too much!” 

“Then what is the issue?” Evan asked then.

“Look at her!” Barty shouted, gesturing wildly at you with both hands. “Look at her outfit!” 

Evan shifted his weight onto his one hip and turned his body towards you, his arm thrown over the back of the sofa as he scrutinised your form; a surprised laugh bubbling out of him when he realised what Barty’s ‘problem’ was. 

“Sugar,” Evan laughed, “do any of the clothes you’re wearing actually belong to you?” 

Sure enough, you were wearing a pair of Barty’s joggers, his favourite band tee, and one of Evan’s zip up jumpers with the arms folded over an absurd number of times. 

You blinked slightly owlishly at him, answering after a beat of silence. “The knickers are mine.” 

“That’s too many articles of your own clothing, Treasure!” Barty let out with a loud laugh, clearly over pretending to be miffed at the pilfering of his wardrobe. “I’ll have to buy some of my own knickers for you.”

“If it helps, I’m pretty sure you bought these knickers too.” You offered him solemnly, and Evan watched a salacious expression take over Barty’s face he knew was mirrored on his own.

“Is that so?” Evan drawled. “Perhaps you ought to show us, just to confirm.”

[barnesandbarton]

“Wow, you really had them stock the place, huh?” Clint said as he watched her unpack everything that was needed for Sangria.  He assumed that they’d at least have needed to go inside to get the fruit.  But nope, the outdoor bar had it all.

“You’re not worried about people coming and stealing all this stuff?” he asked as he grabbed the knife and chopping board.  He began to cut up the fruit.

Lucky came running over and Clint gave him a small piece of apple.  “He’s so happy to be here,” he said. “Poor boy gets locked up in my apartment too much. You need a big yard, huh, buddy?” 

“Yeah I agree. Time and love is the perfect help,” she spoke and smiled a little bit as she sighs a little bit as she leans into him and kissed him back happily and smiled into the kiss and stroked her hand down his chest softly and in a soothing way. “Yes, drinks. Sangria is amazing,” she spoke and nodded as she got up and walked to the outside bar.

She went to the refrigerator and hummed pulling out what they needed. “I made these all the time and I got so drunk,” she spoke and snorted shaking her head softly. “We can cut up some fruits, and I’ll mix it,” she spoke and got a cutting board out for him and some fruits and smiled before she was making the sangria in a serving glass.

[strawberry-daiquiris]

happy lando is 25 day! quarter of a century, cheers ears etc. what a wonderful day!!!

inspired ✨ to write some established relationship landoscar celebrating to celebrate lando becoming old and haggard (spoiler: he's not, he's just being dramatic, they're probably just blonde, right?)

They’re granted a rare, extra day off for Lando’s birthday. Andrea takes Oscar to one side in the MTC, looking all sincere with a furrowed brow, and tells him he thinks it’ll be good, for Lando, for them, to have some time alone for his birthday after everything, lately. Oscar’s phone starts lighting up ten minutes later, notification after notification of his meetings getting cancelled for Wednesday, crossed through in his Google calendar. 

Not that it can really be considered time alone. Lando’s playing golf with Max at 11, and they’re going to a restaurant in London tonight with his family.

Still, it has been nice, spending a couple of nights at the hotel together. It’s the kind of place they don’t really stay that often, grand in an old fashioned way, paint chipping off corners and daring you to complain when it’s all part of the character. Last night Oscar went for a swim, and the only other people in the pool were nearly triple his age. He had a great conversation with Mary, celebrating her 50th wedding anniversary, cooing over how nice a boy he is.

Lando’s got a special relationship with the girl on the front desk after she fixed the pizza disaster. He tells Oscar about it in a vague way that’d be pretty worrying, if he hadn’t been watching Max’s stream at the time, curled up in his bed in Monaco thinking he should’ve flown in a day earlier. 

Lando’s in bed himself, right now, still snoring. Oscar’s managed to pull on a pair of joggers he doesn’t think are actually his to open the door to room service. He’d arranged breakfast direct with the kitchen, trying to bypass Lando’s card on file to sign for it himself. It’s not really a birthday surprise, after all, if you make the person celebrating pay for it. 

“Thanks,” he whispers, relieved when he sees it’s Lando’s pizza girl. “Did you get the note about…”

“Mayonnaise?” Her smile as she says it makes something curl in Oscar’s stomach. The horrifying idea that anybody else but him knows Lando’s quirks, even when Oscar knows they’re on show for the world to see. Half of Twitter probably knows about the mayonnaise thing. “Yeah, we might have to get an extra delivery in if he keeps staying.”

Oscar smiles, laughs, even though inside he’s sort of plotting how he can get Lando barred from staying here ever again. They could buy somewhere, near the MTC, he reckons, with their salaries.

As soon as the thought comes, Oscar shakes it off.

It’s mad talk, wanting to buy a house with the guy you’ve been seeing for six months, even if you’ve known him longer, even if you spend most of your lives in each others pockets. 

He notices the snoring has stopped when he starts wheeling the trolley into the main area of the suite. Oscar frowns. Silence is never a good sign, with Lando. It’s either the snuffling breaths of his sleep, the repetitive sounds of a game, or incessant talking. He’s been silent more, lately. 

Oscar pops his head around the door to the bedroom. Lando’s laying on his back, frowning at something in his hand. For a second, Oscar thinks it’s his phone, that Lando’s back reading the bullshit people are writing about him again.

“Uh, hey,” Oscar says, then stops. Not exactly how you greet your boyfriend on his birthday. Even if he’d said it last night when the clocks flickered to midnight, buried deep inside Lando, kissing his neck and his shoulders as they both tried to stave off coming for a little bit longer. “Happy Birth-”

“Have you seen this?” Lando interrupts, sitting up abruptly, holding himself up on one elbow. He sticks his hand out in Oscar’s direction. “I’ve got fricken’ grey pubes.”

Alright, so not his phone then.

Oscar can’t help but laugh, one of the special ones he thinks he reserves pretty much only for Lando, collapsing a bit into his own chest with a huff, letting out the warm air that collects in his chest and has been whispering you love him for a good year now. 

“Can’t say I noticed that one last night,” Oscar tells him, and Lando rolls his eyes, brandishing what Oscar now knows is a pubic hair in the air. “Alright fine, I’m coming, let me see.”

He climbs onto the bed, the joggers he’s now sure are Lando’s slipping further and further down his arse as he crawls. He kicks Lando’s legs apart so he can rest between them, and Lando automatically curls an ankle over his. It’s what they do when they can’t touch properly - in meetings, on planes, sitting in the back of cars in countries that’d kick them out or worse if they knew.

It’s been easier, since they told Andrea and Zak, since it’s gone from secret to just private, at least at work. 

Oscar takes the pube from Lando, holding it up to the slither of light that’s coming in from where they’ve not quite closed the curtain.

Lando looks up at him a bit hopeful, like he’s desperate to be proven wrong. Happier to find out he’s colour blind to greyscale than being old. 

Unfortunately, there’s no mistaking it. It’s definitely lighter than the rest.

“Ah, that does look a little grey, mate, yes.”

Lando groans, flopping down against the pillows, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Might as well just die,” he says dramatically. Oscar sits back, sliding his hands onto Lando’s naked thighs, rubbing them, watching the muscles tense and getting a bit distracted by just how hot he is. It’s a better option, sometimes, than listening to him. “I’m fucking old. Do they even let old people drive? I’m gonna need a fucking pube transplant.”

Oscar snorts. Convenient that he’s forgotten about Fernando being nearly twenty years older than him. 

“You don’t need a pube transplant,” Oscar says, using the sensible voice he puts on when he needs to explain something to Lando. He’s complained before it makes Oscar sound like a teacher, storming off into another room and coming back ten minutes later with a wicked glint in his eye and a potentially slightly illegal PornHub tab open in incognito. “They’re fine. Look…”

He slides his fingers into the tuft Lando’s got above the fat base of his dick. It’s pretty much the same consistency as his facial hair, which he’s absolutely forbidden to mention if he doesn’t want Lando getting the huff for a half hour. 

“Very brown, completely normal for a 25 year old.”

Lando groans again.

“25 is so old, it’s halfway to fucking 50.” Lando grumbles. “Who’s even 50? Aren’t they all dead?”

“Mark’s nearly 50,” Oscar says, then cringes immediately, curling his fingers a bit too tight in Lando’s pubes. His head veers up, eyes a bit dark. Number one rule, no mentioning Mark when either of them is naked, it never ends well. “And er, our Dads? Andrea’s older than that too, and um… Zak.”

Lando screws his face up.

“Oscar, don’t mention Zak when you’re touching my dick, please.”

Despite the annoyance, there’s a hopefulness in the way he says it. Oscar is more than happy to oblige, if it gets him off the hook. He slides down the bed, and even though Lando hasn’t showered and still smells of sweat and come from last night, Oscar takes him into his mouth. He might not be able to play golf, but he can organise breakfast and give a mean blowjob, so he reckons he’s alright. 

Lando’s easy for it, writhing and bucking his hips, and Oscar wants to make it good. Eases Lando’s hips up so he can slide deeper, feeling the press at the entrance to his throat.

After Lando comes, he starts choking, and Oscar has to push him back gently, come still coating his mouth. Lando’s really good at things like this, immediately sitting up to caress the back of Oscar’s head, looking worried. It’s one of the best parts about doing stuff with someone who’d never been with a bloke before Oscar, actually. He still finds the gross parts of sex vaguely horrifying. 

“Are you alright?” Lando asks, and Oscar nods, pressing his fingers into his mouth and swiping around until he finds the culprit, dragging it out from his throat and holding it up.

They both look at it. Drenched in Oscar’s saliva, it’s darker than the first, but it’s still unmistakably grey.

“Don’t,” Lando warns, and Oscar nods, reaching his hand off the bed and flicking his fingers until it drops to the floor, someone else’s problem. “Fucking don’t.”

Oscar snorts, dropping his lips to the inside of Lando’s knee, kissing the soft hairless part that’s only for him. He nods to the door, and the trolley with the steaming plates of waffles, pancakes, and inexplicably, mayonnaise.

He smiles. It’s criminal, really, how much he likes Lando.

“Breakfast?”

[lovedrruunk]

‘Don’t be the one to break my fall

In which Jinx shows up to your doorstep looking like shit… she’s had a long night.

*this was written wayy before season 2 and is supposed to take place after she got resurrected by Singed .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·.

You shivered a little as your feet landed on the cold floor. Turning to look at your alarm clock you groaned in annoyance. ‘2:00 AM, seriously?…’

You had been sound asleep cuddled up with your pillows just a few seconds ago, but that was before you were woken up by the persistent knocking of your front door. You tried ignoring it the first time… and the second… and maybe the third, but to your despair whoever was at your door was clearly stubborn.

So now here you were, sighing as you dragged your feet across the floor of your small home, making your way towards the door.

Standing on your tip toes to look through the peephole, your brows furrowed as you saw a familiar shade of blue. Hurrying to unlock the door you couldn’t help but groan again wondering what trouble she’d gotten herself into this time. But even the little bit of anger you had felt vanished the second you laid eyes on her.

There outside your front door stood Jinx. It wasn’t atypical for her to drop by at odd hours of the day, looking rough and nagging you to patch her up and kiss all her wounds better, but this? This was different.

Scratches, bruises, dark veins, cuts that seemed to have magically healed overnight, and weirdest of all, her eyes were a bright violet.

She stood still with her arms wrapped around herself. Her braids being blown by the wind, eyes avoiding your gaze. You snapped out of it when you felt your body shiver from the cold.

“So are you gonna let me in or are you just gonna stand and stare?” She asked softly. “I’m freezing out here.”

She spoke with a happy tone, but you couldn’t shake off how defeated she sounded. How exhausted and drained she looked.

Stepping to the side allowing her in, your eyes still fixated on her as she walked past you to lazily flop down on your couch. Usually you'd scold her for it, knowing her tendency to leave cushions and sheets dirtier than she found them, but this time you figured the cushions were the last thing in need of your attention right now…

You watched her let out a shaky sigh, sinking into the couch. Making your way towards her, you sat down slowly not wanting to startle her. Her eyes were shut with her brows furrowed, looking deep in thought.

You sat there for what felt like hours until she broke the silence.

“Sorry… About the couch.”

“You’re all good. Don’t worry about it.” You said brushing her off.

It suddenly hit her that she had been apologizing to you more and more recently. Jinx, jinx, jinx, ever the disenchanting one. It’s not like she liked disappointing you, it just came easy with being who she was. Although she could never figure out why you stuck around, she was sure of one thing, that you deserved better than this.

You were better than this. Better than being her shoulder to cry on, the person she runs to, the one always patching her up, getting her back up on her feet, fixing her. But at the end of the day she was the most selfish person she knew. That’s why she always came back, why she was now dirtying your stupidly expensive couch, why she couldn’t just leave you alone.

You were a saint in her eyes, an angel sent from above specifically tasked with keeping her sane. Well that’s what she liked to think anyway, because deep down she knew the truth. That it wasn't fair to you. You weren’t the one meant to bear her burdens, and she was painfully aware of that every time she ended up at your doorstep. She was a mess of tangled thoughts and somehow you never turned her away.

That thought scared her more than she'd ever admit. She didn’t deserve someone like you. Someone steady and kind, someone who looked at her like she wasn’t broken beyond repair. And yet here she was again, barging into your home and tainting it with all her ‘brokenness’.

She glanced at you, her gaze softer than usual. “You know,” she murmured as her eyes flickered away, “one day you’re gonna get tired of this.”

“Tired of you? Impossible.” You said with a light chuckle hoping to lighten the mood, even if just a little bit.

Sadly it didn't seem to work. Instead, she looked back at you, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips in a slight pout. Her eyes studied yours, almost as if she was trying to read your mind. After what felt like forever she finally looked away. Letting out a disappointed sigh she turned her attention back to the black TV in front of her, sinking deeper into the couch.

“I let you stay because I want to. Not because I have to.” You said softly, deciding to break the silence once you realized she wasn’t going to respond. 

She let out a scoff before chuckling dryly. “You just don’t get it.” She swallowed as her smile disappeared, voice dropping even lower than before. “But it's okay. I don't expect you to.”

You frowned. You were really trying to understand, but she wasn’t making it easy. “Then explain it to me.”

She looked away, her fingers picking at a loose thread on her pants. “It’s not that simple. You’re… good. And me?” She let out a sigh. “I’m just…something else.”

She paused, as if debating how much to say, then looked back at you, her eyes dark and serious. “One day I’ll do something you can’t forgive. And it won’t just be a few bruises or blood on your couch.” She spoke slowly, looking at you cautiously as if she wasn’t allowed to.

The words felt cold. You tried to stay calm, but her tone was making your heart pound. You were beyond worried. Of course she just had to be cryptic when it mattered most. 

You wanted to ask her what the hell she was talking about, what had happened, and why she was suddenly so miserable, but you knew she wasn’t the type to give you details, let alone answer questions. In the end she’d only get defensive and push you away, so you resisted the urge to interrogate her, deciding to instead show her support. 

 “Whatever it is, I don’t mind.” You tried reassuring her, shaking your head in protest.

Her eyes softened for a second, but she quickly looked away again. “For now.” she said quietly. 

The last words hung in the air as the room got quiet again. She sat back lost in thought, and you could feel the walls going up again, shutting you out.

You swallowed down the worry gnawing at you and let out a small sigh, deciding that maybe words weren’t what she needed right now. Instead, you reached over and took her hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes flickered down to your hand in surprise, and you felt her fingers tense up.

She looked up at you curiously, studying your face. She opened her mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to say something self-deprecating, but then she just… stopped. Instead, she let out a long tired sigh as her fingers relaxed.

After a pause she suddenly turned her body towards yours, quickly leaning in to wrap her arms around your shoulders, hugging you tightly. Her head resting against the crook of your neck as her breathing slowed, and her shoulders loosened.

“You’re an idiot for sticking around.” she mumbled softly as she leaned her head in closer, but there was no bite to her words. In fact, you could almost hear a faint hint of relief.

You chuckled softly, your grip on her tightening. “I’m fine with that... Now let's get you cleaned up.”

. . .

HI :3333 this was rlly fast paced but its been in my drafts for awhile now so bleugh whatever VI FIC COMING SOON i gotta stop writing abt her ong i dont even like that girl

[eph3merall]

toxic!ex!matt + a sprinkle of mean!matt . . .

cw ; slapping

—

matt is a... nice person. you know this, he knows this. he doesn't get mad too easily, keeping his calm almost all the time when anyone ticks him off. at least, that's what you thought. it never occurred to you how toxic the man was, leaving him after finding girls' contacts on his phone and some of the toxic shit he's done.

but, it always confused you how matt never seemed to care when you officially announced to him you two were done. it was like he just didn't care at all, after it took you so long to muster up the courage to even confront him about it. matt was shrugging and chewing on the toothpick in his mouth, as you huff in frustration and throw a few more curses in his direction.

you eventually got all your stuff and ended up crashing at your friends' house for a little. she was happy to have you anyways, not having seen eachother in awhile as you talked to her for hours about everything. in the end, she wasn't surprised that matt was a douche bag. maybe you aren't exactly surprised either—but he was a good boyfriend... kind of. but, if everything else wasn't good with him, the sex definitely was.

maybe it's why you find yourself outside matt's door. you're upset. pissed off and annoyed. matt always knew how to calm that storm down, and maybe you just needed him without realizing. your first instinct was to just go to him, yet you weren't even sure why. he was an asshole in the relationship.

when you find yourself in his room, matt is rolling his eyes when you start rambling on and on about whatever the fuck. you always talked a shit ton. that never really did change about you—but you looked.. more glowy. like you were doing better. a lot better.

when you kept droning on about something probably about him, matt is just sighing and sliding his hand into your hair. patting your head and then his hand comes up to pat your cheek a few times. "shut up." before his hand slapped your cheek gently—shock forming across your features as the sting starts from the harsh impact. you blink and turn your head to glare at matt, even though it did distract you from everything you were so worried about.

it's why matt has you on your knees between his legs, a hand cradling your face as you whine gently. he knows you. god, he knows you so well that he knows just how to get you to stop yapping your ass off. maybe you needed it too, with how much anxiety had wrapped around your entire body.

"shh, y'got it. doin' real good, baby," matt is cooing at you so gently, you forget that he's your ex. that you probably shouldn't even be here right now, for both of your sakes. but you can't help the way your cheek leans into the palm of his hand, warm and inviting. his eyes glance at your pitiful fucking expression, his free hand slapping you across the face gently.

sometimes, matt doesn't feel like making you suck his dick when you get too pissed off. so, he'll settle on this, or some other tactic to get you to shut your mouth. even after you two have broken off, some things just never change. and, in some way, matt kind of hates how well he knows you as he lands another slap across your pretty lil' face. "i got you, baby. i always got ya. don't gotta worry that head off anymore."

—

inspired from a thought i posted idk how long ago

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita

©eph3merall 2024

[pansy-picnics]

Emeryposting today….I mentioned a while ago that i never really talked about her lore so here it is 😵‍💫 “foster fail person edition” as my friend ky described it

as for How they actually ended up in corona: In short some of the first policies implemented by Eugene (who works in social work rather than as captain of the guard in my au) included two things: the very early workings of a foster care system, and a youth program, which allowed adolescents who aged out of the orphanage (around 13-14) to be assigned to apprenticeships, giving them shelter and a potential career when they may otherwise be tossed out, leading them to turn to crime to survive.

both of these programs actually ended up being so successful in corona that other kingdoms (specifically those with very large populations of orphans…) wanted to send kids in that direction as well!

Emery was born in ingvarr and orphaned when she lost her mother, Florence, at around three years old to a preventable illness. with no other known family available to take her in, she lived in an orphanage for a little less than a year. when this particular facility was preparing to send some teens over to corona for apprenticeships (think kind of like the 1850s orphan train program), emery ended up sneaking in with the group by mistake, and due to overcrowding in ingvarr’s child welfare system nobody really noticed until it was too late….😭😭😭 very worrisome for eugene who expected a group of teenagers and got a bonus little girl who was like. barely past toddler age 😭

i dont think whoever was running the orphanage was like, evil or anything though, just really stressed and overworked. they definitely worried when emery was gone, but eugene managed to get in contact and reassure them she was okay, and to save on travel costs they sent over the little info they had of her and entrusted her in eugene’s care.

In the meantime though, the twins (around 7 at the time) had a new playmate and were having the Time Of Their Lives, introducing them to everyone like she was a weird little wild animal they found or something like “Can we keep her 🥺” GAHAHAHAHA. Ilmari (10) also liked their weird little ass although they really didn’t want to admit it, they were very bossy and protective of her in that “older sister who thinks they’re hot shit” kinda way

meanwhile varian and hugo, now newly in their 30s, married, and still childless (and very happy about this decision mind you, they SAW what uknighted dream went through) are lowkey getting a little bored and looking to maybe do some travelling with nuru and yong again. They had heard about the ingvarr kids and, knowing hugo’s history, eugene had offered them to take an apprenticeship, but for a variety of reasons they had decided to decline for now…. …..And then they find out abt this four year old who apparently just Showed Up and now nobody knows what to do with her and var and hugo IMMEDIATELY get attached.

. So. obviously they didn’t have much else to do so why not.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Family Matters

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Thor Odinson

Summary: your new husband's brother surprises you with a visit.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The doorbell rings again and you barrel so quickly down the stairs, you nearly topple off the bottom step. You catch your breath and grab the post at the bottom of the banister to steady yourself. It’s a splendid house but you told Loki it’s too big for just the two of you. He didn’t like that so you didn’t mention it again, even though it feels empty with how much he’s not around. 

You let those worries slake off of you and hurry to the door. It could be another surprise! Loki hates leaving you for so long so he tries to fill the void with gifts. Sometimes, they make you feel better, other times, you’re just sad. You’d rather have him there. 

It’s not a courier but a familiar face. Your brother-in-law. It’s official as of one month ago. You’re family. 

“Oh, hi,” you deflate, trying not to show your disappointment. You’re not upset it’s him, you just hate being the one to say, “Loki’s not in.” 

Thor smiles. He’s rarely unhappy. “Ah, that’s unfortunate. Where is off to, then?” 

“Work,” you grumble the repetitive explanation. “Important project or something.” 

“Important enough to leave you alone?” He wonders. 

“I... guess,” you try not to mope. Loki says it make you look childish. 

“Well, I am much in the same boat. Alone,” he laughs hollowly. 

“Oh, yes, I... how are you doing?” You ask. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for coming to the wedding. Really, I know it must’ve been difficult.” 

“I couldn’t miss my brother’s special day,” he shakes his head. “It was a day for love. Wasn’t your fault mine decided to leave...” 

Your heart breaks for him. The day you were married, Frigga told you what happened. A hug fight right after your rehearsal dinner. Jane left before the morning. Despite all that, Thor didn’t show a hint of grief at the wedding. 

“It’s too bad. I liked Jane.” 

“Needless to say, I did too,” he smiles thinly. “Well, I hope I didn’t disturb you very much. I suppose I could come calling tomorrow and hope my brother isn’t too busy for the likes of me.” 

Your heart rents for him. Here you are, a new marriage, a husband to long for, and he lost his girlfriend of five years. You don’t have much else going on, it would be nice to have someone there. 

“Did you wanna hang around for a bit?” You ask. “Not much going on but... this place is eerie when you’re all alone.” 

“Hm, did Loki say when he would return? Wouldn’t mind waiting around a bit,” he suggests. 

“I hope soon but he didn’t say,” you shrug. “Yesterday he wasn’t home until midnight.” 

“Midnight? He would make you wait so long? A lovely young wife like you?” He scoffs. “Well, that is just terrible. I will not commit the same crime as my brother. I’d love to come in.” 

“Alright,” you smile. “I... we could put something on? I was going to watch the new season of the true crime show.” 

“Ha,” he enters as you step back to let you through. “That wouldn’t help being alone, would it?” 

“I guess not,” you giggle. “We could watch something else. A comedy. I’ve been rewatching Friends. For the hundredth time.” 

“Whatever you like,” he slips his shoes off and puts them on the mat. “The only words a woman like you needs to hear, eh?” 

You laugh again, “do you want snacks? I got some caramel corn and gummy bears.” 

“My brother let you bring those in his house?” He wonders. 

“It’s our house,” you face him with a pout as you stand in the broad archway to the front room. 

“Yes, you are correct. My apologies,” he follows. “You know, he only hates those sugary treats because he is weak to them. Be sure to hide them well or you might find some missing.” 

“No, he never wants any,” you continue into the front room. 

“So he wants you to believe,” Thor counters. 

“How about drinks? We got a bunch of wine from the wedding. Some scotch?” 

“I only really indulge in lager and I'm not of the mood for it,” he assures. “I could help with the snacks.” 

“No, no, sit,” you grab the remote and hold it out to him. “Find something to watch. I’m so indecisive I just flick through the menu for an hour.” 

“I will do my best,” he accepts it. His hand dwarfs you own as his fingers brush across yours. Loki’s hands are long, but not as thick. 

You push your shoulders up and spin around to flit off to the kitchen. You scurry away and slide into the kitchen. You go to the cupboard and take down the bag of caramel corn. You pour some in a bowl then grab the package of gummy bears and a box of cream cookies. 

As you come back to the living room, Thor leans forward to set the down the remote. You put the treats on the glass table and sit on the other end of the couch. You only realise then how awkward it is. You’ve never really been alone with him. 

“Thank you. So sweet of you to have me,” he says as he twines his fingers together. “I feel as if everyone has been avoiding me since Jane. I fear I might be a bit... melancholy.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you glance at the TV as it plays an intro to a show you don’t know, “well, how can anyone blame you? You’re going through so much.” 

“I’m an adult, these things happen,” he says. 

“Sure, they do, but I mean, it still hurts. It’s not easy,” you insist. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” 

“Ugh,” he puts his elbows on his legs and cradles his head. “I don’t mean to bring my dark cloud in here.” He rubs his temple. “Truly, I think I’ve been trying to outrun it but... what else can I think of with only an empty home to go to?” 

“Oh, Thor,” you sidle closer on the cushions. You gently touch his arm. His bicep is a lot bigger against your hand. “It’s okay. You can’t hold it in forever. It's good to feel these things. Once you get through that, you can move on and I’m sure you’ll find the right one.” 

He sniffles and you flinch. He quakes against your touch and your chest knots. You never imagined him crying. Especially not a man his size. You don’t know what else to do but comfort him. You rub his shoulder and he huddles over further and wipes his face. 

His long blond locks conceal his tears as he mops his sadness away with his knuckles. You hum and get even closer, your hand trailing up his back. 

“Thor, I'm sorry. It feels so cruel, I know. Especially the timing of it--” 

He startles you as he leans against you. You let out an ‘oop’ as he turns to embrace you, curling his shoulders and hunching to put his head on your shoulder. You have no choice but to let him. 

“Oh, it’s been awful,” he snivels. “I’ve been so lonely.” 

“Shhh, let it out, that’s okay,” you rub his back and stare at the wall. You certainly didn’t expect the night to go like this. 

He holds you tight as he cries against you, his body heaving. You know Loki isn’t the best for these sorts of things so you’re happy at least he trusts you enough to listen. That’s about as much as you can do. 

“You won’t believe how cruel she was,” Thor rasps. “She just yelled and yelled. She shoved me and—she just kept accusing me.” 

“Accusing you? Of what?” 

He’s quiet for a moment. He lifts his head to look at you, his arm across your back. “Of wanting another.” 

“Oh?” You blink in surprise. 

“I told her no, no, I did not, but she kept saying “I see it! I see it in your face!” And I swore to her, no, no,” He wipes his face with his other hand, “but now I’m afraid she might have been right.” 

“She... who?” You frown. 

His arm wraps around you, his fingers dipping into your side and in a moment, the couch shifts beneath you. You cannot resist as surprise paralyses you. Thor lifts you easily onto his lap, turning you and sliding you to sit on his thighs. 

“Woah, uh, whaat--” You press your hand to his chest. “Please, Thor, you’re emotional--” 

“She was right, kitten, you are so soft, so gentle, and I could not look away. She caught me--” 

“No, no, you can’t-- Loki--” 

“Loki leaves you alone. He would rather work than stay and adore his precious wife,” He cups your chin and forces you to look at him. “He would abandon you...” he leans in as his eyes fall to your lips, “and leave you unkissed.” 

You try to pull back but you’re trapped in his embrace. He squeezes you close and crushes his lips to yours. You squeal and struggle against him, finally turning your head so his mouth smears across your cheek. 

“Untouched,” his hand trails down your neck and you clasp onto two of his fingers, straining to keep him from going lower. “Unloved--” 

“Thor, stop, let me go--” 

He leans over so your back is on the cushion, his arm beneath you as your legs are folded up over his. He is on his side next to you. His large hand comes back to frame your face and he squeezes to keep you from squirming. You tug as his shirt and whine. 

“Thor, please, stop. We can forget--” 

“I can’t forget,” he growls and nuzzles your nose. You whimper and push against his chest again. He is stone, he is unmoving, and you know you cannot stop him. “I will never forget how you feel against me, kitten.” 

[vettelsvee]

YOU'RE NOT HANNA, AND NEVER WILL BE HER | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

red bull sebastian vettel x reader, nico rosberg x reader

word count: 6588

summary: 2010 german gp post race party has many things in store for seb and y/n, who finally do what they both been willing to do for a long time even they're dating hanna prater and nico rosberg

warnings: everything related to gender-based violence (main trigger warning to physical and mental abuse) from nico to y/n (reminder that everything you read on my blog is fiction), curse words, "cheating", mentions of suicide and cancer

a/n: i'm quite scared and happy at the same time to be posting this fic because it's one of my favourite parts ever on history series, but still has me so worried you might not like it because of all the topics (and because history series was originally posted on wattpad and not many people liked it but don't let anyone know that pls). anyways, let me know your thoughts on this one and request anything you might like if you want pls! i'll probably be posting tomorrow another part since my town is currently on high risk alert of floods and we've been told not to leave home. let me remind you that comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! thank you so much <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2010 Hockenheim   German Grand Prix  

You paused for a moment in front of the bathroom mirror as Valentina finished your makeup. You leaned forward to get a better look, but the your woman followed your movements with perfect synchronization and, surprisingly, without messing it all up.

Your own reflection was completely unrecognizable to you. In front of you stood a beautiful, self-assured Y/N, looking like someone who possibly had a life that, while not perfect, seemed enviable.

You feared that a simple layer of makeup could make you feel completely different from reality. It was as if all your problems had suddenly vanished, and instead had in front of you a superwoman admired by everyone, not a twenty-something whose life was falling apart.

Valentina Martínez, the girl standing beside you with whom you’d had the opportunity to become closer, was one of the Mercedes catering managers and, also, exactly the complete opposite of you. Valentina had a beauty that everyone could admire and a confidence that many, including yourself, would love to have. She could lift others' spirits with just a smile and a few words that, while not wise, were good enough to make sense.

The Argentine radiated the kind of magic you felt you lacked.

So, when Valentina’s gaze fell on yours as you continued to admire how beautiful you felt.

“Come on, Y/N!” Valentina shouted, stepping away from you and starting to bounce on her feet. “I know this isn’t your thing, but I swear you look incredibly hot.”

“Valentina…”

“None of that,” she interrupted, “you need a bit more confidence. I don’t know how you don’t have it with Nico already. He’s totally worth it!”

As Valentina’s smile grew wider, you sighed and lowered your head. You thanked her as calmly as you could for trying to transfer some of her positivity, though you knew it was somewhat of a show Valentina put on for everyone and wasn’t doing anything particularly special for you.

That was what you liked least about her: Valentina was so well-liked and appreciated by everyone that, somehow, she always played the same role, regardless of who she was with.

“I don’t know why I’m going to a party I definitely don’t want to go to,” you confessed with honesty.

Today’s race had been quite tough, and although the strategies were solid, they didn’t seem to deliver the expected results when Seb only managed to get bronze in his home race. That’s why all you wanted to do at that moment was order a good room-service dinner and eat it under the bed sheets while watching some low-budget TV show before trying to get some sleep.

"You know that stepping out of our comfort zone is the best thing," Valentina said, moving closer to you and gently taking your hands. "Besides, you're doing this for Nico," she insisted. "Remember: he's your boyfriend, and it's your duty to make him happy."

You smiled shyly even though, deep down, you shivered a bit at the tone Valentina seemed to be using with you. It was as if she wanted those last words, it's your duty to make him happy, to penetrate your mind and stay there. You tried to ignore it, as it was probably your own insecurities taking over. And, in some way, you knew Valentina wasn’t wrong. She was aware that you needed to stop being so perfectionistic and rigid, and maybe start letting yourself go a little bit more.

"You're right, yeah," you finally said. "Thanks for everything."

Without saying anything else, you left Valentina’s room to head back to your own, just a couple of doors away, not without first gathering the clothes you had been wearing earlier while your friend continued getting ready.

As you took out your room card from the small purse hanging from your shoulder and swiped it to enter, you started feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. However, the moment Nico Rosberg, your boyfriend, came out to greet you and looked you up and down, hands on his hips, all of it disappeared.

"Are you seriously going out dressed like that?" he asked, completely incredulous, pointing at your dress. "You look like a slut."

You were speechless, though part of you wanted to say everything she was feeling. Once again, fear caused you to shrink back, cautious about your actions and the possible consequences. The tone he had used on you was filled with anger and, above all, disappointment. You knew that nothing good would come from answering, so instead you held back everything you wanted to say to him.

“Nico, it's just a dress…” you tried to explain as calmly as possible, not really knowing how to make him see reason without losing your composure.

He stepped closer, and his eyes filled you with nothing but fear. You could swear that, in his fury, the bluish hue of his eyes had turned an orange-red, like fire; his pupils, fully dilated, were what sent you into internal panic.

“I don’t give a damn fuck if it’s just a dress,” he mocked you. “I don’t want you going out like that. You know there’ll be consequences.”

Be careful how you act with me, he had told you one day when you said you weren't in the mood to go out to have dinner. Since then, though you had realized many things he did to you, you’d also started to act with caution and rationality, knowing that blows could come at any moment.

You’d even considered that there was a remote possibility that you might be the one to end things, especially every time you recalled every single insult he used to hurl at you whenever you misbehaved, which had only increased in frequency in recent weeks, following your father’s death and your trip with Seb to your hometown for the funeral.

But, most especially, when the Red Bull Racing driver stayed a few days with you because he was absolutely worried about your mental health getting worse.

A lump formed in you throat as a few tears began to fall freely down your face, ruining the makeup your friend had taken so much time to apply and had turned out so well.

“If you don’t change your clothes right now and put on something that makes you look like a decent person…” He threatened, moving closer with his hand raised. “Think carefully, Y/N: I don’t want to go crazy, but I think you're forcing me to.”

You couldn’t let fear paralyze you at least, not now, as you felt his hand inching closer to your body. Another physical mark that would eventually fade, but another one that would leave a psychological one permanently.

"Please, Nico, don’t do this…” you begged, completely desperate by this point, but trying not to show it. “You said you loved me just the way I am and…”

“I just can’t believe you’re so stubborn! Don’t you get that I don’t want you going out dressed like some desperate girl who clearly wants to fuck with everyone?!” he yelled, filled with rage.

You backed up as much as you could until your back hit one of the surrounding walls. You had encountered this version of Nico before: no matter how hard you tried to reason with him, he would manipulate you until you ended up thinking it was entirely your own fault.

“Please, Nico, don’t shout. I don’t want anyone to hear us…”

“They’ll hear us if that’s what you deserve for wanting to embarrass me,” he shouted again, even more furious.

You knew the tension had reached its peak and that, from there, things would only worsen. 

Nico kept yelling at you. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands pressed over your ears, waited for the familiar sensation of one of his limbs landing on any part of your body he fancied at that moment.

“Oh, so now you have the nerve to ignore me?”

When you heard him clearly again and saw his hand raise, you somehow found the courage to turn away and quickly slip into the bathroom, forgetting to lock the door in your haste.

“Open up right now!” he screamed.

While he pounded on the door, his yelling relentless, you leaned against the farthest wall, as if he might burst in at any moment. 

It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. 

You gasped for air in a place where there seemed to be none, your hand instinctively clutching your chest as if to shield your heart, which felt like it might burst out at any moment. You had learned to live with anxiety and panic, and both emotions had reached a point where they didn’t control each other but had fused, learning to coexist together with you.

“Nico… I’ll change my clothes,” you said, still crying, your voice choking. “I’m sorry, really,” you lied, trying to sound as convincingly as you could. “But please… don’t hurt me.”

Not again.

Your whispers seemed to have reached him because his pounding and labored breathing quieted. You hoped that the situation had calmed, and it seemed like it had.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead giving you enough time to remove the ruined makeup from your face and apply just a little mascara. A few minutes passed, enough time for you to relax and consider the possible outcomes of what might happen next, before he coldly demanded that you open the door.

You emerged and collided with his chest. Forcing yourself to look up at him, all you could see was contempt.

“Once again, you’ve disappointed me,” he stated without a hint of hesitation. “No wonder why lots of shit happens to you and people treat you so poorly. I was wrong to judge Vettel: he was right to treat you that way, and he should’ve done even more to you.”

All you could do was lower your gaze and head toward your suitcase on the floor, trying to pick something that would be ok with Rosberg’s dress code while reminding yourself that Seb did things quite bad, but he seemed to be truly sorry and apologized many times to you. The beautiful red dress, strapless and embellished across the chest, falling just above your knees, had to be replaced by another dress of the same color, but one that reached your ankles, with a much higher neckline and looser fit, so as not to highlight your nearly nonexistent curves.

“Happy now?” you asked, with as much disdain as you dared, even knowing he might match your face to her outfit.

“If you behaved like a responsible adult, yes,” he muttered as he opened the door and took your hand forcefully. “Sometimes I forget you’re only twenty-two and you have a lot to learn about life.”

Did he really know more about life than you did after all you had to go through?

That thought lingered in your mind throughout the journey, from their floor’s hallway to where the party was held, including the elevator ride where they encountered Mark Webber and a journalist from Sky Sports Germany, Eloise Schimdt. During the conversation between the four of them, though you remained silent, you had to pretend that everything was fine, even as your insides felt like they were shattering further.

As they entered the venue, the music, louder than she liked, started to throb in your ears. Your eyes opened wide to adjust to the dim lights from the spotlights, and, as you always did when in a public place with Nico, you began scanning the scene in detail.

There were more people than the space could comfortably hold. The dance floor was packed with people moving energetically, glasses in hand with the sole mission of keeping the alcohol from spilling. The bar was just as crowded, and in the center, across from shelves stocked with every type of liquor imaginable, she spotted Kimi, Fernando and Jenson with their respective partners, chatting animatedly.

But your eyes didn’t seem to waste any time and ended up settling on the guy standing a bit farther away from the others.

Sebastian was leaning back against the bar, tapping his left hand on it to match the rhythm of the song playing. In his other hand he held a glass of what she assumed was, possibly, a Jägerbomb, his favorite drink and, to him, a must-have for parties like this. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans with those Geox trainers he always wore, and his hair was completely tousled.

In that moment, you felt utterly captivated by him, and you were sure you would have dared to talk to him if his eyes hadn’t been fixed on Hanna. The blonde girl was a few steps in front of him, dancing seductively without caring where she was or who might be watching her.

You couldn’t help but wish, at that moment, to be her.

You shook off those conflicting thoughts as soon as Nico grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, snapping you out of your trance, to head toward the bar.

"Give me a Martini," he said abruptly to the bartender, "and some water for her. She’s a bit dizzy," he lied to stop you from drinking, as he often did every time you went out.

"A Jägerbomb if you can, please," you ended up telling the guy behind the bar with your best smile.

You completely ignored the words and looks Nico was giving you. Instead, you just flashed your best smile at the bartender, who kept looking at you with concern, along with the rest of the people who weren’t too intoxicated yet and had overheard your boyfriend’s words.

"I can’t believe you’re drinking again… Can’t you control yourself or what?" he snapped.

He pulled you aggressively close, and you tried you best to ignore his words, spoken in a threatening tone directly into your ear, while you took your drink from the bar, along with his, and offered it to him.

Surrounded by people, you felt a bit safer than usual. He wouldn’t be able to hurt you, at least not physically, in front of everyone here… His reputation would be ruined, and Nico Rosberg was too proud to allow that.

So you didn’t stay silent.

"Nico, leave me alone for a few hours, please," you replied, ignoring his comments. "I’m here to enjoy the party you were so insistent on coming to, not to get scolded for wanting to have fun with you."

"Damn it, Y/N!" he expressed in frustration. "Do you always have to ruin everything or what?"

You just lifted your glass to avoid spilling your drink and walked towards the dance floor, leaving Rosberg behind, hurling insults you decided to ignore.

As soon as you found yourself among the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a friendly smile, you let yourself get carried away by the rhythm of the music. Tonight your shyness seemed nonexistent, and you could only thank the alcohol for giving you the confidence you had lost. You started to lose track of time as you danced, and though you didn’t know how, each move helped free you from the intrusive thoughts of loneliness and worthlessness, of feeling like nothing more than a mere object, which had crowded your mind at a dizzying speed.

You knew that mixing liquor with the energy drink that funded your lifestyle was only a temporary fix and that, once the effects wore off, your life would return to the completely chaotic state you had come to deserve.

Suddenly, the music stopped, as did the bodies moving on the dance floor. A spotlight focused on the stage, where Seb stood, microphone in hand and swaying. There was no doubt that he was drunk.

His swaying body made it clear that he had no idea what he was doing and that, at some point, he would end up regretting something.

"Sorry, sorry!" he said into the microphone. "But I feel like making a little pause in this party we’ve got going tonight because I want to sing a song to someone I care about a lot."

You began to feel terrible as Vettel gestured to the DJ for the music he wanted. A few seconds later, the first chords of Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars was the only sound echoing in the room.

"Babe, this song is for you, and I want you to know how much you mean to me!"

You could see Hanna smiling broadly and shrugging. You wanted to leave to cry again at the beautiful scene unfolding in front of you, of which you definitely weren’t the main character.

Was it too soon to say that the boy you were in love with dedicating a song to his girlfriend hurt worse than any blow your current boyfriend had ever given you?

Yes, it was clear. Possibly, the alcohol had already taken too strong a hold, and you could no longer control what you said or thought.

You know I'd never ask you to change  

If perfect's what you're searching for  

Then just stay the same  

So don't even bother asking if you look okay

You felt confused and didn’t know what to do, but Sebastian’s voice, trembling and making his English accent sound more German than usual, had you completely captivated.

So did Prater's reaction when the German shifted his gaze from her to you.

“This is for you,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. “I know you know who you are, and I want you to know it’s all for you, and that you deserve the absolute best.”

When I see your face  

There is not a thing that I would change  

'Cause you're amazing  

Just the way you are  

And when you smile  

The whole world stops and stares for a while  

'Cause, girl, you're amazing  

Just the way you are

You noticed Hanna moving to your side, visibly confused and clearly uncomfortable with what was happening.

“Y/N…”

She couldn’t say anything else, nor could you to her. As much as you wished to be Hanna, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for her at the strong possibility that her boyfriend was confessing his feelings to another girl right in front of her.

Or, at least, that’s what the alcohol led you to believe.

“I want you to know that, from the first moment I saw you, you’ve been in my heart,” Seb admitted, his words drawn out, uncaring about the reactions of those around them, especially his girlfriend’s or yours. “Right now, I can’t have what I want most, but I want you to know that being with you is the only wish I’ve made, and the one I’ll keep making on my birthday, until we can finally be together.”

That was the last straw. As quickly as she could, trying in vain to hold back tears and avoid drawing attention, Hanna left, thoroughly embarrassed, muttering something you couldn’t catch. Seb's voice still echoed in your ears, but you tried to ignore it because you couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Lost in thoughts, you moved as far away as you could, trying not to stumble. Then, you made your way to the bar to order another drink, as if that might somehow make you forget what had just happened.

Just before you could exchange words with the bartender who had already served you so many drinks that night, you felt someone take your wrist, though this time much more gently. You knew it wouldn’t be Nico; when you turned around and saw Seb, however, you were even more surprised.

Your eyes met, and butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. Once again, you felt at home and safe, though deep down, you were only afraid.

Without saying a word, he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

In that moment, you felt everything fade away. You let yourself go, unafraid of who might be watching or what might happen next. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss… your first kiss. 

Slowly, calmly, and, as you felt, full of affection, you stayed that way until you both needed air.

You felt that you had both been waiting for this moment for so long and, in a way, you deserved it, turning a simple gesture of affection into something unique and special, caring little about your partners or your sobriety.

Seb pulled back, his hands still resting on you, and your gazes shared in complicity about what had just happened. You knew he was happy but confused, just as you were. You didn’t know what to say, and knowing he didn’t either, you simply gave him a shy smile to let him know everything was okay, that he could do that a thousand times more from now on.

“Y/N…”

“What is it, Seb?”

You wanted him to tell you he loved you, that he’d left Hanna, and that he wanted you to be his new girlfriend, the love of his life.

But, instead, Seb looked at you and left you, once again, speechless:

“You’re not Hanna… and never will be her...”

After he said that, you felt nothing but your breath slipping away and the sensation of fainting.

You wanted to tell him everything you felt at that moment, but his words had hit you so hard that they only increased your confusion and pain.

All you could do was stare at him, likely making a fool of yourself with the amount of tears clouding your vision. Silence took over, and when you finally found the strength to speak, trying to hide the pain you knew your voice would show, he turned away without even saying goodbye.

"How the hell could you do that, Y/N?! You have no shame! You humiliated me in front of everyone. Kissing Sebastian like you don't care about your boyfriend... now I see what you're really up to."

You didn't have time to say anything or leave because Rosberg came running towards you, grabbing your arm with a force you'd never seen in him. It hurt, and your scream, which was more of a complaint from the pain than a surprise, was a way of expressing how much you were hurting, not just from the tight grip, but also from the shake he'd just given you.

"Nico, please, calm down..." you tried to calm him, not wanting to embarrass yourself. Some people were already looking at you, and you wished Earth would swallow you up. "It was just..."

"Don't play innocent!" he shouted too loudly. "You thought I wouldn't find out?! I saw you kissing that piece of shit who only wants to fuck you until he's bored of you," he said, referring to Seb. "Now everyone here knows what you really are: a whore! And I'm glad, Y/N… You have no idea how glad I am."

The music suddenly stopped blasting, but your boyfriend's anger didn’t.

"Nico... I love you, really," you tried to speak. "It was just a moment of weakness..."

The moment of weakness was exactly what you were feeling now, making him believe you were truly in love with him when, in fact, you were only staying in the relationship because you were afraid your reputation wouldn’t make it out alive. 

"You say you love me? Don't make me laugh! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t act like this."

You wanted to tell him that you thought the same about him, but you held back, paralyzed again by the fear that your mind was processing all the bad things that could happen.

"Nico, come on. You don’t have to act like this. We can talk about this civilly."

As you saw Edward, Vettel’s personal trainer, appear, and pull Nico a bit away from you, a little peace returned to your body. You gave him a grateful look, to which he just answered by nodding.

"You don’t have to get involved, Eddie!" your boyfriend shouted. "Stay out of our fucking business!"

"You know you don’t have to treat her like this," he said seriously.

"She’s a whore, can't you see it?" Nico spat, pointing at you. "Disgusting little girl..."

"Nico, I understand you're angry," Patterson spoke again, after the German’s words, "but neither of you is in a state to talk about this, and this is not the right place," he said, referring to the curious looks around them.

You could only constantly whisper for them not to fight anymore, while deep down you prayed to take you away from all of this and bring you back to the hotel.

"I don’t care what you say," Eddie started. "I'm taking Y/N. I don’t think being here is the best thing for her."

After saying that, he stood behind you and guided you, putting his hand on your back, toward his car. At that moment, your desperation was so great that you didn’t even think about whether he was in any condition to drive.

The way back to the hotel, less than ten minutes away, felt eternal.You hadn’t drunk much because you didn’t like it, but not being used to it was enough for a couple of curves and a badly taken roundabout to make you gag and feel like vomiting.

Slowly, the shock began to set in, and you started to act on autopilot mode, following the directions of the man accompanying you, except when he told you it would be best for you to sleep in his room that night.

You didn’t know why, but that set off alarms in your confused brain. The last thing you wanted was to add fuel to the fire by sleeping with another man who wasn’t your boyfriend just to protect you.

"Thanks for everything, Eddie, really, but I think it would be best if I went back to my room to sort things out with Nico."

The Brit didn’t seem to agree with you.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but I don’t think it’s best for you to share space with him tonight," he was honest.

"I just want to talk to him and try to put an end to this," you insisted, still knowing you weren't right.

"And I understand you, really, but right now everything is too fresh, and the best thing is for you to rest and let the drunkenness wear off," he said, placing one of your arms over his shoulders. "Come on, I’ll take you to my room."

You decided not to argue anymore because it would be in vain, so you let yourself be guided while he lectured you about how you shouldn’t be intimidated by Nico and how you deserved someone better than him after what had happened at the club that night.

"Edward, Y/N. Good night, guys."

You lifted your gaze and saw another Brit. Jenson was standing in front of you, coming out of the elevator you were about to take. You were greatly surprised that he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but didn’t want to get involved; your alcohol-soaked self, however, wanted to gossip.

"Where are you two going?" he asked, crossing his arms and blocking the elevator doors so they couldn’t pass.

"I’m... taking Y/N to my room," Eddie revealed, stammering a bit for no clear reason. "She’s had a rough time, and it’s best that she doesn’t see Nico’s face tonight."

"And you think the best thing is that you take her to your room?"

Button’s features went from relaxed to a kind of aggression you had never seen in him. It’s not like you had spent much time or had many conversations together, but you knew the situation you were now involved in wasn’t what you had thought it was.

Edward Patterson stayed completely silent.

"Do you want me to call someone to be with you?" Jenson asked you directly, giving you no other option. "Y/N," he insisted again, "who do you want me to call to stay with you tonight?"

"Britta… please," you said as best as you could despite your discomfort.

To your surprise, while Jenson dialed the phone number of the woman you now considered your friend, Eddie let go of you and reluctantly pushed the driver, still leaning against the elevator frame, to leave. He didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to you, something that seemed to upset Button quite a bit.

"Hello, is this Britta?" Jenson began, speaking into the phone. "Great, yes. It’s Jenson. I’m with Y/N, and she asked if you could help her," he started explaining. "I don’t know much about what happened, except that she’s not feeling well and needs help from someone she really trusts," he clarified.

After exchanging a few more words, Jenson led you back to the lobby, where Britta appeared just a few minutes later in a bathrobe, espadrilles, and her hair tied up in a completely unusual way. You had never seen Roeske like that, and all you could do was laugh.

"Come on, let’s go already," Britta said, linking her arm with yours as if you were two old ladies heading to bingo. "This is how I want to see you: laughing, not crying."

When Britta opened the door to her room, you immediately ran and threw yourself onto the bed. Your whole body hurt, and you weren’t sure if it was from the emotions of the night or because the alcohol was hitting its peak.

Whatever it was, you knew perfectly well that lying completely still, face up, and counting the total number of tiles on the ceiling, pointing at them one by one with one eye closed and your tongue sticking out was what was making your hostess laugh.

"Come on, Y/N, get up," Britta asked gently. "Do you mind if I help you get changed? It’s time to put on your pajamas."

You nodded as you sat up and moved to the foot of the bed.

Next, Britta unzipped the dress, and you noticed how she averted her gaze to give you some privacy while offering a nightgown.

"Right now, I’d love for Seb to be the one undressing me to fuck me. God... how I’d love Seb to make me scream now..."

Had you said that out loud?

"What did you just say?"

Britta’s muffled shout and the tone in which she asked, while turning her back without caring whether you had already put the garment on, making you realize that yes, you had said that out loud.

Your first time being drunk was going to be, definitely, a night to remember. Now, you just felt like saying those kinds of things, and you didn’t care at all about having a boyfriend… if he could even be called that.

"Oh…" you said, stretching the last syllable. "Didn’t you know it?"

"Know what?"

By the tone of voice, it seemed Britta thought it was related to the sudden thing you had said.

"Seb and I kissed," you told her, starting to laugh like a lovesick teen.

"This is the alcohol on you, I’m sure of it," Britta said, running to get a wet towel and starting to wipe it across your face. "You mean you and Nico kissed," she tried to correct you. "Seb is dating Hanna, and you’re dating Nico, remember?"

You started shaking your head constantly, about to collapse to the floor. A laugh started escaping you as you couldn’t control it.

"No, no, no, no," you denied while also wagging your finger. "Seb and I kissed. Nico’s an asshole."

"Y/N, you really should go to sleep, you’re not..."

"Of course I’m fine!" you said enthusiastically, getting up from the bed and standing in front of Britta.

The truth was that you only felt fine because of the effect alcohol was having on you. If it wasn’t for that, you would be crawling on the floor crying because you knew you had reached a point where you couldn’t pretend your life was perfect anymore.

"Do you really not believe me when I say that not only did Seb kiss me, but it was the best kiss of my life?"

You knew you were putting Britta in a tough spot, especially considering that the woman was probably closer friends with Hanna than with you.

"And Hanna?" Britta demanded to know. "Was she there, or had she left?"

"Oh, she was there?" you tried to pretend the best you could, using expressions that clearly showed otherwise. "I didn’t know..."

Before you could continue speaking, Britta ran to grab her phone and started making calls. You sat back down, crossing your legs and swaying while watching the blonde desperately cursing in German, since none of the contacts she called were answering.

It was possible that Seb and Hanna were busy, probably having sex. Your drunk self only wished she was in Hanna’s place.

"The only ones who tell the truth are kids and drunks, you know?"

Britta stared at you after those words. It seemed like you needed to say that phrase to make her believe you.

"Are you serious...?" Britta asked.

"What, Britta?" you insisted, urging her to speak.

"Did you really kiss Sebastian?"

You nodded.

"Yes," you confirmed. "Well, I mean, he was the one who took my face and kissed me," you corrected yourself. "Do I owe anyone something, like he owes Hanna?"

You were getting a bit defensive, and you knew it was making Britta nervous.

"Yes! You owe Nico, your boyfriend," Britta replied, giving you a harsh dose of reality.

"I don’t want Nico," you confessed. "At least, not in the way I think I should. He... I don’t know, Britta. I think he’s what I deserve. I try to understand why, but I know that his insults and those things he says to me make me a better person somehow."

You could see Britta go pale. Also, you were starting to feel worse; after all, it was the first time you had opened up about your feelings to someone since the journal Seb gifted you for your birthday last didn’t count as a personal therapist.

Britta usually had words for everything, but that day, you seemed to have left her speechless.

"Y/N..." Britta began, carefully choosing her words. "You’re a good person. You’re just scared."

"Maybe," you replied, trying not to make it a big deal. "And you, are you scared?"

"Of course. Everyone’s afraid of something."

"I’m afraid of being alone," you admitted, lowering your head because you were starting to cry again for the umpteenth time that day. "And I’m afraid of losing Nico. I know no one will ever love me, not better or worse, than he does."

Britta didn’t know what to say, and you felt bad for having to be in her room, drunk, sad, while your “friend” was putting up with you, possibly mediating between her client and her client’s partner.

That’s why you made a move to leave. Fortunately, Britta wouldn’t let you.

"Sit down, Y/N, and let it all out," Britta demanded.

And that’s exactly what you did. You told Britta everything, not just about what had happened since you started dating your current boyfriend, but about your entire life. Living with a mentally sick mother after her accident, her subsequent suicide, their move to Barcelona. Her father’s cancer and how it had worsened in less than two years. All the things Rosberg had said and done to you, even forcing you to do certain stuff you were clearly uncomfortable with.

You cried like you never had before when you told Britta about your first time, reluctantly, on a luxury yacht in Monaco’s seas, and how it gave you nightmares almost every night to the point where she was scared to fall asleep.

You could tell that Britta was truly worried when you started biting your lower lip, and a little tic appeared in your right eye.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?"

"Do you know I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her?"

You were fully aware that you had just avoided answering a crucial question, but you didn’t care at all. You were tired of talking about your burdens and your current life; from now on, you would focus entirely on your future and try to solve and finish once and for all all the problems that made your life a mess.

"But what are you saying, Y/N?" Britta asked, desperate.

"That’s exactly what I would have liked to ask Seb, but he left and Nico messed things up," you revealed, stretching your arms out and pointing to the marks, now red, that were the same shape and size as Mercedes’ driver’s fingers. "Great, yeah," you said ironically.

"But..."

"Do you think if I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her, I might have a chance to date Seb?"

Your question left Britta speechless again, unable to find the words. As Britta struggled to speak, you started playing with your fingers. Giving up, you laid on the bed, your back to Britta, clutching a pillow with the clear intention of falling asleep.

"Why are you telling me this?" Britta asked in a whisper, almost with... pity.

"Because I want Seb," you revealed, letting out a sob because, at last, you had been able to confront and reveal your confusing feelings for a guy who didn’t love you, and never would. "I’m in love with Seb, and it hurts knowing he’ll never love me back, and I know I’ll have to move on sooner or later."

Britta was about to speak, but you took the words from her before she could.

"Before you say anything else, take advantage of me and ask me anything you want: I’m a bit drunk because I’m not used to drinking."

You could tell Britta sighed, likely having lost all patience with you.

"You know... you know that Seb...?"

But then Britta stopped talking. You stood there for a while, staring at the red curtains that covered the window, waiting for the woman to continue. When she didn’t, you turned around:

"You know exactly what about Seb, Britta?" you asked, adjusting yourself on the bed, still hugging the pillow.

"Seb and you need to talk," Britta told you, leaving you speechless. "And when you do that, I’m convinced that you’re going to live the life you both deserve."

"But..."

Britta started to lie you down on the bed again, tucking you in under the linen sheets. Your yawns became more frequent, and after she kissed your forehead just like her mother used to do before your life was destroyed, your eyelids grew heavy.

"I know you won’t remember this tomorrow," Britta’s voice flooded your ears as you curled up into yourself. "But, to Seb, it’s more than obvious that you’re not Hanna and you’ll never be… And that’s exactly why that stupid, but incredible guy, has fallen truly, madly, deeply, in love with you."

You couldn’t tell if Britta’s words were already a dream, or if Morpheus was pulling you into his arms. 

"The day you stop doubting your worth, the world will be at your feet, Y/N. Sebastian has been telling me that and his closest people since you two spent the night together the day before his maiden win in Monza."

[azlovesem]

Ahhh oaryn aint no use we re fucked being happy eiih thst is the new happy. Wtf with the getup? Ok it looks weord on you. If it mskes you ferl bettrr why im asking. Ha ha ha ya ahh. Theyll dress you fing bats up in sny old getip these days. And any days. Prople have been wearing hoofy lookn vothes since the stone age. Drape themsrlves in whatever. Good luck to yas. I just have a feeling shots gonna go straight to fucking hell soon. I hope thats not a readon to worry. Ill be fine. My region gets spared the worst always. Thats why i moved here snd davked the rntire area for me people boi.

JUDE LAW Ph. by Paola Kudacki for GQ Men of The Year (Nov 2024)

[acesofspadess]

my birthday boy

apart of the AG5 universe

spending Lando's birthday at the MTC didn't stop Ace

warnings: heart-melting fluff, PDA, public-speaking (gross)

November 13

The weeks leading up to this day were definitely ones to forget. No one mentioned Brazil in the cosy apartment the papaya duo walked back into a few days later. Brazil was a shit-show, and they didn’t need to bring it all back up. Ace worked relentlessly to keep Lando away from the media, and al the negativity people felt the need to share. Ace didn;t care about what they said about her, this was Lando, her Lando, and she would do just about anything for him.

Monaco wasn’t big, but she did have to travel to the other end of the principality to visit her maman. She hadn’t seen her in weeks and needed some motherly time. She was slightly worried about leaving Lando, but she made sure Max started streaming again to keep him occupied. Lando was an adult, he lived by himself up until a year ago, and even though she knew what he was like before, she had faith he would still be okay… right?

“How’s your perri perri chicken from March pal?”

Wrong. She was glad she was watching the stream. She listened to him try and justify not using food before the best use date and she just shook her head. Why did she even let him keep that?

The next morning, she and her maman went grocery shopping for their house and when she got home and Lando saw her with bags he knew he was in trouble. 

“It is not a recommendation!” 

They hadn’t been home in three weeks, it was mildly understandable, but March? That was entirely Lando’s doing and she knew if he liked it, it would stay there. After a few more days of relaxing, streaming, and making Lando eat properly, they had to fly to the MTC. 

Now Ace loved birthdays, even if Lando didn;t want to celebrate, Ace would make him. So she made a few arrangements and after all the seriousness of the day had passed,and Ace and Lando were getting ready to 'leave’ and walking down the boulevard, a chorus of ‘happy birthday’ was being sung and Lando flipped his head to Aces who already had her phone up. 

He let go of her hand to hide his very smiley face as he walked a little ahead of her. The cake had a picture of his best moments over the top of it and a 2 and 5 candle on the top middle. “Alright make a wish.” Ace called from behind her phone. He closed his eyes and paused before blowing out the candle, making everyone applaud and cheer.

“You’ll hate me for this but…” she said and Lando tried to cover her mouth but she got her words out quickly,” …you have to make a speech.” Ace egged on and he side eyed her making those who saw him laugh. “If I'm being forced to…” He looked at her again. “I just want to say thank you for an incredible year, there've been some ups and downs but we’ve gotten through them and I wouldn’t want to do it with any other people by my side. Thank you all and here's to many more papaya birthdays.” He said with hands pressed together and bowing and thanking everyone around him.

He turned to Ace and hugged her waist tightly, making her almost drop her phone. “I love you so much, baby,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you too, mon cœur,” she giggled, kissing him softly.

“Come on,” she said, tugging his hand, making him look confused. “You didn’t think this was it, did you?”

He chuckled before shaking his head. “How could I ever?”

Ace’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she led him out of the MTC. The gleam of polished floors reflected the overhead lights, and the soft hum of engineers wrapping up their day added to the atmosphere. Lando walked in step with her, fingers intertwined, his curiosity piqued.

“Where are we going?” Lando’s voice had that familiar playful lilt that always made her smile.

“You’ll see,” she replied, glancing back with a grin.

The crisp autumn air greeted them as they stepped outside. Ace glanced at the silver sky slowly turning shades of lavender and gold as the sun set behind the rolling fields.

“Baby, what—” he began, but she just squeezed his hand and guided him towards the passenger side.

“Trust me,” she said, opening the door for him. Lando slid into the seat with a mixture of excitement and puzzlement.

Once they were both settled, Ace revved the engine, the sound of power humming beneath them as they took off down the winding country roads. Lando watched the scenery blur by, the anticipation building in his chest.

“Okay, you’ve got to give me a hint,” he finally said, turning to look at her.

“Nope,” she said, popping the “p”. “You’re just going to have to be patient, Mr. Norris.”

“Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he joked, letting out a playful sigh.

“I know,” Ace teased, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. “But it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“If you say so,” he said, pretending to pout. Ace laughed, reaching over to give his hand a quick squeeze.

After a few more minutes of playful banter and teasing guesses, Ace pulled into a small, cosy restaurant nestled at the edge of town. The warm glow from the windows and the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air as they stepped inside.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered as the host guided them to a table by the window, candles flickering gently.

Lando’s eyes softened. “This is perfect,” he said, reaching for her hand across the table.

“You deserve a night that’s all about you,” Ace said, her voice warm. “No engines, no track, just us.”

“And good food,” Lando added with a wink.

Their meals arrived, and soon enough, laughter and stories filled the space between them. Ace recounted a memory from one of their first races together.

“And then you said, ‘It’s just a little rain, Ace!’” she mimicked his voice, eyes bright with amusement.

Lando groaned, laughing. “I remember! I thought you were going to throw your helmet at me.”

“I almost did,” she said, leaning forward, her smile softening as she looked at him. “But you’re worth a little chaos.”

“A little?” Lando raised his eyebrows. “Try a lot. You’re competitive, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Ace said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “And don’t you forget it.”

They ate slowly, savouring each dish. Lando took a bite of his dessert, eyes lighting up. “This is so good,” he said, gesturing with his spoon. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“Only the best for you,” Ace replied, her voice a tender melody.

“You spoil me,” he said, pretending to scold her.

“Not nearly enough,” she countered, smirking.

After dinner, they made their way back to their shared apartment. The soft light of the living room lamps illuminated the space, casting a cozy glow over the photos and mementos that marked their journey together. Lando slipped off his shoes, stretching out with a contented sigh. Before he could say anything, Ace stood in front of him, holding a small, wrapped box.

“What’s this?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Open it,” she encouraged, crossing her arms and watching his expression closely.

Lando tore at the paper, revealing a set of sleek keys with a familiar horse- a Ferrari key. His mouth dropped open, and he looked up at Ace, disbelief mingling with sheer joy.

“No way,” he breathed. “Ace, you didn’t—”

“I did,” she said highly pitched in excitment. “I know how much you’ve been dreaming about it. Consider it a thank-you for every smile, every kiss, every moment.”

Lando surged forward, merging his lips with her own. “You’re incredible,” he whispered into her hair, voice thick with emotion. “This is... more than I could ever ask for.”

“You deserve it,” she said softly, brushing her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. They stayed like that for a moment, the quiet of their home holding the weight of their love.

“I can’t wait to go home now. Drive around for hours.” Lando finally said, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Of course you can’t,” Ace said, laughter bubbling up. “We’ll make a whole day of it.”

“Deal,” Lando said, his voice softening. “But first, can we just stay like this a little longer?”

“For as long as you want,” she replied, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Best birthday ever,” Lando murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple, as their world, for tonight, felt beautifully complete.

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landonorris love you baby ❤️... not to sure i love all these photos😐

acegiovanelli but they're my favourite

landonorris these are the best photos in the world ❤️

fan4 i love them so much 😭

fan7 happy birthday lando!

carlossainz55 happy birthday cabrón!

maxverstappen1 Happy birthday mate!

fan8 the world is healing