#so now I’m just being nice to myself and calling myself a good dog

[canidundrum]

me, mumbling sadly to myself: who’s a good dog ?? YOURE a good dog 🫵

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 17

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

This has literally all the worst things the internet has to offer: Ableism, Sexisms, Toxic Media, horrible journalism, death threats...I am pretty sure I am missing some of it.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

6 July 2024 - Silverstone GP, Quali Day

YouTube Transcript – Silverstone 2024 – Lando Norris Post-Qualifying Interview

Interviewer: “Lando, solid qualifying today. But I have to ask—the paddock is absolutely buzzing because you’ve brought someone special this weekend. This is the first time we’ve seen you publicly with your girlfriend. What made Silverstone the right place?”

Lando: [laughs, rubbing the back of his neck] “Yeah, I guess I couldn’t keep her a secret forever, could I? Silverstone just made sense. It’s home for me, and it’s a special race, so... felt like the right time.”

Interviewer: “People were definitely surprised! Most fans had no idea you were even dating someone, let alone Elizabeth Treshton, a bestselling author. Was keeping it private a conscious decision?”

Lando: “Yeah, for sure. I mean, I like keeping my personal life… well, personal. But also, Lizzie’s got her own career, her own thing, and I wanted to make sure she was comfortable before anything went public. It’s a bit different from racing, but she’s got just as many passionate fans as we do in F1.”

Interviewer: “Speaking of passion—social media is having a meltdown over the fact that her dog, Mara, is at Silverstone wearing a Quadrant bandana that matches your helmet. Can you confirm if this was planned, or is this just peak marketing?”

Lando: [grinning] “Liz just thought it’d be funny. And honestly, it is. They are my good luck charm.”

Interviewer: “One last question before we let you go—now that she’s made her paddock debut, should we expect to see Elizabeth at more races?”

Lando: [shrugs, smirking] “We’ll see. I mean, she’s got books to write, but maybe if I ask nicely.”

Interviewer: “Alright, we’ll hold you to that. Thanks, Lando, and good luck tomorrow!”

Comments: 

@/RomantasyQueen: Wait wait wait—Lando called her Liz??? Since WHEN???

@/TwitchChamps: What if he’s the only one who calls her Liz? What if that’s like...their thing???

@/RomantasyReign: Lando Norris dating THE Elizabeth Treshton is the plot twist of the century. This crossover is feeding me in ways I didn’t know I needed.

@/TifosiTears: Not only is Lizzie a Ferrari fan, but she’s dating a McLaren driver??? The potential for absolute chaos in this relationship is INSANE, and I’m here for it.

@/GatekeepingGremlin: Ugh, why does every driver suddenly need to have a famous girlfriend? This feels so staged.

@/F1Bookworm: We’ve been sobbing over tragic, brooding fae princes for YEARS, and now Lizzie is with Lando, the most golden retriever boyfriend to ever exist. I love this for her.

@/MaraStanAccount: Mara being the true star of the paddock is the best part of this. Someone get this dog a tiny Quadrant hoodie ASAP.

@/BitterAndSalty: She’s a writer, big deal. What does she actually have to do with F1?

@/PitLaneGossip: The fact that Lando admitted Lizzie’s got fans just as passionate as F1 ones??? He understands the romantasy girlies are unhinged and will defend their queen. We’ve already claimed him as a book boyfriend now.

@/ConspiracyQueen: Funny how she’s suddenly at Silverstone and now everyone is talking about her. Feels like a marketing stunt, tbh.

@/WAGWatch: I love how Lizzie isn’t even a regular WAG. She’s an author. Like, imagine dating a race car driver and still being the most interesting person in the room.

@/LandoFangirl69: Lando soft-launching Lizzie was one thing, but Mara getting a full rebrand as an F1 celebrity dog was NOT on my 2024 bingo card.

7 July 2024 - Silverstone GP, Race Day

YouTube Transcript - FIA Post-Race Press Conference – Silverstone

Attendees: Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen

Moderator: “Next question.”

Interviewer: [Clears throat.] “Lando, your relationship with Elizabeth Treshton has been in the spotlight. Given her epilepsy, do you ever worry about how that might affect your career and the demands of F1?”

Lando: [Blinks, frowning.] “Sorry, what?”

Interviewer: “Well, F1 is a high-pressure environment—constant travel, long hours, high stress. Do you ever consider whether being with someone who has a condition like that is… sustainable?”

Lewis: [Turns his head sharply.] “Excuse me?”

Max: [Squinting at the interviewer.] “Did you really just say that?”

Lando: [Slowly, voice dangerously calm.] “Are you asking me if Liz’s epilepsy is a problem for me?”

Interviewer: “No, no, I just meant—”

Lando: [Flatly.] “Because that’s what it sounds like.”

Interviewer: [Awkward chuckle.] “I meant in terms of logistics.”

Max: [Muttering.] “Logistics. Unreal.”

Lando: [Deadpan.] “Logistics.”

Interviewer: “Like—does it make things harder for you?”

Lando: [Leaning forward slightly.] “Harder for me? I’m not the one with epilepsy. She is. She’s the one managing it. And she does. Every day. It’s not an issue. It’s just part of her life.”

Interviewer: “But with the unpredictability—”

Lando: [Firmly.] “Life is unpredictable. That’s not a reason to not love someone.”

Lewis: [Shaking his head.] “I’ve heard a lot of nonsense in these press conferences, but this is a new low.”

Max: [Scoffs, crossing his arms.] “Yeah. This is disgusting.”

Interviewer: [Looking increasingly uncomfortable.] “I didn’t mean to imply—”

Lando: [Interrupting.] “You did imply it. And I don’t get it. You wouldn’t ask this if she had diabetes or asthma. Why is epilepsy different?”

Lewis: [Firmly.] “It’s not.”

Max: [Pointedly.] “Maybe we should be asking why you think it is.”

(A tense silence. The interviewer looks like they want the ground to swallow them whole. Lando exhales sharply, jaw tight.)

Lando: [Flatly.] “Liz is my girlfriend. I love her. End of story.”

Moderator: [Hurriedly.] “Next question.”

Comments: 

@/F1Fanatic99: Lando shutting that down IMMEDIATELY. No hesitation. No dodging. Just straight-up ‘I love her. End of story.’ That’s a man right there.

@/GridGossip: You can literally see Lando getting angrier with every follow-up question. This interviewer really thought they were onto something.

@/WheelToWheel: Max saying ���this is disgusting’ and Lewis calling it a new low. They didn’t just stand by—they backed Lando and Lizzie. That’s respect.

@/McLarenUpdates: The way Lando just flat-out refused to give them any kind of negative soundbite about Lizzie’s epilepsy. That’s love.

@/EpilepsyAwareness: It’s rare to see someone in the public eye so openly defend a partner with epilepsy like this. Lando handled this perfectly. Thank you for using your platform the right way.

@/AlwaysDR3: I mean, the interviewer had a point?? F1 drivers have crazy schedules. It’s a valid concern.

@/SilverstoneStan: Lando saying Lizzie’s epilepsy isn’t hard for him… yeah, but he’s definitely making sacrifices. He should’ve just been honest.

@/SpeedDemon19: No, but actually… that interviewer should be ashamed. What an awful question to ask.

@/F1TeaSpill: I like Lizzie but let’s be real, she’s a liability for his career. The press will always focus on this now.

@/McLarenSuperFan: If she ever has a seizure during a race weekend and it distracts him, then what?

@/MaxsOrangeArmy: That interviewer was so desperate for Lando to say something awful, and instead, he got a masterclass in 'how not to be an ableist idiot.'

@/PitStopChaos: Mara (Lizzie’s dog) growling at the TV somewhere, I just know it.

@/ChaosInTurn1: Not Lando making this interviewer question every life decision they’ve ever made.

@/F1Wifey: The way Lando did not let them frame epilepsy as some kind of obstacle for him. He kept the focus on Lizzie and how she handles it. That’s how you love someone.

@/WheelToWheelGirl: Lewis and Max backing him instantly?? No hesitation?? It’s the kind of solidarity we love to see.

@/EpilepsyAdvocacy: The amount of people acting like epilepsy makes someone unworthy of love and stability is disgusting. Thank you, Lando, for not entertaining that nonsense.

@/RacingLogic: No one is saying he shouldn’t love her, but c’mon, it’s a fair question. F1 drivers have insane schedules.

@/ToxicMcLarenFan: Lando could’ve just said ‘we manage it well’ and moved on instead of acting like the interviewer just insulted his ancestors.

@/SilverstoneElite: I get that he’s in love or whatever, but acting like this isn’t a factor in his career is just naive.

@/PaddockInsider: Bet McLaren wishes they could tell him to not be so public about this. Sponsors might not like the drama.

@/PitLaneDrama: The moment Lando said ‘logistics?’ I felt the temperature in that room drop.

@/FIAConspiracyTheories: Can’t wait for the Netflix edit where they make it look like this ruined Lando’s season.

@/FastAndFearless: The way he shut that down so fast? He’s not just defending Lizzie, he’s making it very clear that ableism won’t be tolerated.

@/EpilepsyAwareness: Public figures treating epilepsy like a burden is so common. Seeing Lando refuse to play into that narrative means so much.

@/DriveItLikeItsHot: ’Life is unpredictable. That’s not a reason to not love someone.’ I AM SOBBING IN THE CLUB.

@/McLarenMadness: This interviewer really expected Lando to go, 'Yeah, you’re right, I should probably dump her' ???

@/F1GirlfriendGoals: Lando: ‘She makes my life better.’ Me: Crying in single.

@/CasualF1Fan: That interviewer woke up and chose ableism live on air and Lando was having NONE of it.

@/PurelyObjective: Lando’s getting defensive over nothing. It was a logistics question, not a personal attack.

@/UnbotheredMcLarenFan: I feel like this was an overreaction? He could’ve just said, ‘We make it work’ and moved on.

@/StrictlyBusiness: If you don’t think sponsors consider things like this, you’re naive. This is a discussion, whether you like it or not.

@/MaxFanButConfused: McLaren PR must be watching this with their heads in their hands like 'oh god, here we go again.'

@/MaxRageMode: Lando really said “You’re not gonna get the soundbite you want.

@/LandoSimps: Lando is so in love with Lizzie. He didn’t even hesitate before going to war for her.

@/WAGsInFormation: That interviewer really tried to frame epilepsy as a reason not to love someone. What year is it??

@/PaddockSpice: If looks could kill, Max and Lewis would’ve been the co-conspirators in The Murder of the Silverstone Interviewer.

@/FIAClownShow: If you listen closely, you can hear the exact moment McLaren PR started hyperventilating. @/McLarenPanicDepartment: “DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT WHETHER BEING WITH HER IS SUSTAINABLE??” Bro. That is insane to say out loud.

@/MaraForPresident: Mara better be getting so many extra treats for emotionally supporting Lizzie through this.

Is Lando Norris’ Relationship Hurting His Brand? By: James Carter, The Racing Report

When Lando Norris stormed to yet another podium at Silverstone, the home crowd erupted in cheers. The young Brit is one of Formula 1’s most promising stars—charming, talented, and a marketing goldmine. But while his on-track performance continues to impress, his off-track choices are raising eyebrows.

Namely, his relationship with fantasy author Lizzie Treshton.

It’s no secret that Formula 1 drivers tend to date models, influencers, and celebrities—women who embody the glamorous, jet-set lifestyle that comes with being in the pinnacle of motorsport. Treshton, by contrast, is an author of romantasy novels, a niche genre that, while popular, hardly screams luxury brand ambassador. More concerning, however, is the ongoing discourse surrounding her epilepsy, her service dog, and the apparent PR nightmare that comes with dating someone so fundamentally unaligned with the F1 image.

Let’s be honest—Lando Norris’ schedule is relentless. Grand Prix weekends involve constant travel, late nights, high-intensity racing, and overwhelming media obligations. In short, it’s not an environment suited to someone with a medical condition like epilepsy. While Norris has passionately defended his girlfriend against critics, one has to ask: is this sustainable?

It’s an uncomfortable question, but a necessary one. Relationships require compromise, and when one partner’s lifestyle is inherently at odds with the other’s career, problems arise. Norris insists that Treshton’s epilepsy “isn’t hard” for him, but realistically, how could it not be? He’s bringing her into an environment full of flashing lights, loud noises, and extreme stress—hardly ideal conditions for someone with a neurological disorder.

Beyond the logistics, there’s also the question of image. McLaren has spent years cultivating Norris as an approachable yet aspirational figure, a brand-friendly athlete with widespread appeal. That image is now being dragged into online firestorms, as Norris’ fanbase—usually one of the most engaged and loyal in motorsport—has become divided.

While Norris and Treshton’s relationship may be personal, in F1, nothing is truly private. The controversy surrounding Treshton has only intensified in recent weeks, from heated online debates to Norris’ now-viral post-race interview where he shut down a journalist for asking if her condition made his career harder. While some fans saw his response as commendable, others questioned why such discussions were necessary in the first place.

One thing is clear: Treshton is not a neutral presence in Norris’ career. Her online presence, her outspoken defense against critics, and even her service dog (yes, a Labrador now features in Norris’ F1 orbit) have sparked endless debates. The internet discourse isn’t just about Norris’ driving anymore—it’s about her.

And that’s the problem.

Lando Norris is 25 years old, at the peak of his career, and one of the most marketable drivers in Formula 1. The last thing he needs is unnecessary distractions. His fans adore him, his sponsors invest millions in him, and McLaren is banking on him to lead the team into its next championship era.

But in a sport where image is everything, is he making the right personal choices?

Time will tell. But one thing is certain: this relationship isn’t just about romance—it’s about reputation. And Lando Norris may soon have to decide which one matters more.

Comments:

@/F1Fangirl88: Imagine thinking a woman having epilepsy is a ‘PR nightmare.’ This article is disgusting.

@/PaddockInsider69: They have a point. F1 is a demanding career, and Lizzie’s health issues aren’t exactly an easy thing to manage. It’s a fair question.

@/McLaren4Life: Lizzie is literally just existing and these guys are acting like she’s some kind of controversy. Lando loves her. That should be the end of the discussion.

@/BrandManagerAnon: Lando is a brand, whether fans like it or not. And Lizzie is making that brand messy. This isn’t about love—it’s about business.

@/MaxFan_33: So women in F1 can only be models or influencers? God forbid a man date someone smart and successful in her own field.

@/EpilepsyAwarenessUK: The ableism is off the charts. Having epilepsy doesn’t make you a burden or a liability. It’s a medical condition, not a PR scandal.

@/McLarenPRRep: F1 is a high-profile world. Not every girlfriend can handle it, and honestly, Lizzie brings more drama than she’s worth.

@/FastCarsHotGirls: No offense but Lando could have literally any woman in the world and he chooses some nerdy author? Make it make sense.

@/WDC_OrNothing: Not saying she’s bad for him, but you do have to wonder if all this online drama is a distraction.

@/AntiRomantasyClub: Her books are cringe, she has zero charisma, and now she’s bringing a dog into the paddock? Lando deserves better.

@/GeorgeRussellThirstClub: This is why we don’t let men write articles.

@/MaraTheLabradorFan: DELETE THIS ARTICLE OR MARA WILL FIND YOU.

@/F1HotTakeKing: Not saying Lando should break up with her, but is he really thinking long-term? He’s 25, at his peak—does he want to spend his prime years worrying about his girlfriend’s medical issues?

@/GridGossip101: Look, we all love a good romance story, but let’s be real—Lizzie doesn’t exactly scream ‘F1 Girlfriend Material.’ She’s not glamorous, she doesn’t do grid walks, she’s not a model or an influencer. What does she bring to the table?

@/PRGuruAnon: If I were Lando’s management, I’d be deeply concerned. Fans love a cute WAG, but when your girlfriend starts trending for all the wrong reasons, that’s bad optics. Epilepsy is tragic, but F1 is about strength, not struggle.

@/RealTalkMotorsport: Lando’s brand is cool, fun, and youthful. Lizzie’s brand is book nerd who doesn’t even like clubbing or gaming. It’s like watching someone date their high school librarian.

@/GridRumorsDaily: Lando is a professional athlete in peak physical condition. Can we talk about how unfair it is that he’s dating someone who might not always be able to support his lifestyle? Relationships are a two-way street.

@/AnonymousPaddockInsider: Not saying McLaren should step in, but if I were Zak Brown, I’d be strongly advising Lando to rethink his public image. This isn’t just dating—this is business.

@/F1ImageConsultant: F1 is about performance, speed, and excellence. Lizzie’s whole vibe is soft, bookish, and… honestly kinda boring. This isn’t a good match.

@/GridGirlsAndGlamour: Look at the top WAGs—models, influencers, businesswomen. Lizzie writes fantasy books and brings a dog to races. Is this really the standard now?

@/AlphaMaleMotorsport: Men in high-performance careers need high-performance partners. I’m sorry, but a woman with a chronic illness and a stack of romance novels isn’t it.

@/RedBullInsider69: Lizzie being here is cute for now, but let’s see how long it lasts. We all know these drivers eventually upgrade.

YouTube Transcript – The Apex Take Episode 236

Hosts: Mark Daniels and Ryan Foley Title: Lando’s Girlfriend: Not a Model, Not an Asset?

Mark Daniels: All right, boys, let’s talk about Lando Norris and his, uh… let’s call it an interesting taste in women. (leans back, smirks)

Ryan Foley: Oh yeah, the one who writes those, what is it, fantasy romance books? (raises eyebrow, glances at notes like he can’t believe this is real)

Mark Daniels: Yeah, yeah, the “romantasy” or whatever they call it. (laughs, shaking head) Fae warriors and soulmates and—dude, I read a summary of one, and I swear it’s like a fever dream for lonely cat ladies.

Ryan Foley: (snorting) Right? Like, Lando could have anyone. Models, actresses, influencers—the kind of women you usually see around F1. (gestures vaguely, as if motioning to an imaginary lineup of supermodels) And instead, he’s with some chick who writes books about fairy kings and, what, magical smut?

Mark Daniels: Listen, I’m sure she’s a nice girl, (mockingly raises hands in defense) but let’s be honest—she doesn’t really fit the F1 WAG mold, does she?

Ryan Foley: (blinks slowly, smirks) Not at all. I mean, no offense, but when you think of an F1 driver’s girlfriend, you picture a certain kind of woman. You know, glamorous, stylish, jet-setting with him to every race. (shrugs, leans forward like he’s about to drop some deep wisdom) And instead, this one’s at home writing… whatever the hell she writes. And she’s definitely not doing runway shows in Monaco, let’s put it that way.

Mark Daniels: Yeah, I saw people trying to hype her up like, “She’s so successful in her own right!” (air quotes, exaggerated eye roll) But let’s be real, man—she writes books for teenagers who want to date elves. That’s not exactly Victoria’s Secret material. (laughs under breath)

Ryan Foley: And let’s not even get into the whole epilepsy thing. (leans back, crosses arms like he’s about to say something so reasonable) Like, I don’t wanna be that guy, but dude, how is that not a problem for Lando? The guy’s a professional athlete, constantly traveling, constantly under pressure—does he really need the extra stress? (shakes head, looking “concerned”)

Mark Daniels: That’s what I don’t get. I mean, yeah, he says it’s not a big deal, but come on. (tilts head, voice dripping with skepticism) She’s had seizures before! What happens if she has one in the middle of a flight? Or during a huge race weekend? (shrugs like he’s just being “practical”)

Ryan Foley: (leans closer, like he’s breaking it down logically) Exactly! Look, I get that he’s into her, but at some point, you have to wonder if it’s practical. Dating in F1 isn’t normal dating. These guys don’t have time for relationships that require a ton of extra effort. (shakes head, gesturing like it’s just common sense) And you know there are plenty of women who’d make his life easier.

Mark Daniels: (laughs, shaking head again) Right? Like, dude, you’re one of the most eligible bachelors in motorsport. You don’t have to date someone who writes about magical fae prince soulmates. You could just… I don’t know, date an actual model? (mock-thinks, looking up at the ceiling like it’s a groundbreaking idea)

Ryan Foley: It’s wild, man. (scoffs, shakes head) The guy’s got millions of options, and he’s out here choosing a book nerd with a health condition. Make it make sense.

Mark Daniels: Hey, maybe he’s just a nice guy. (grins, barely hiding the condescension) Or maybe he’s in too deep and doesn’t realize it yet.

Ryan Foley: We’ll see how long it lasts. (leans back, smirking like he knows something everyone else doesn’t)

Comments: 

@/F1HotTakes: Imagine dedicating an hour-long podcast to making fun of a woman who’s literally more successful than you. Y’all really sat down and said, ‘Let’s embarrass ourselves today.’

@/BookishF1Fan: Lizzie Treshton is a New York Times bestselling author with a global fanbase, and these guys run a podcast with 12 listeners and a ring light from Amazon. Maybe let’s not act like she’s the one who’s out of place here?

@/SpeedDemon99: So we’re just gonna pretend women in F1 HAVE to be models or influencers now? God forbid a driver dates someone with a real career. 

@/FaeQueenLizzie: This is so funny because Lizzie’s books sell millions of copies. Like, she could probably buy their entire podcast setup with a week’s worth of royalties. They’re out here roasting her while she’s out-earning them in her sleep

@/McLaren4Life:  The fact that they’re talking about ‘practical’ dating like Lando’s supposed to choose his girlfriend based on convenience… bro, it’s his relationship, not a logistics issue for DHL. 

@/EpilepsyAwareness: I don’t wanna be that guy, BUT—’ Congrats, you’re exactly that guy. Imagine thinking epilepsy makes someone unworthy of love. Clown behavior. 

@/F1Fanatic23:  The misogyny, the ableism, the absolute lack of self-awareness… this podcast really has it all. Can’t wait for Lando to ignore their existence while winning podiums. 

@/RealTalkF1: Look, they could’ve phrased it better, but they’re not wrong. Lando’s lifestyle is crazy—dating someone with a serious medical condition is complicated. 

@/BigManRacing: Why is everyone mad? They just said what people were already thinking. Lizzie doesn’t fit the usual WAG mold. That’s just facts. 

@/TruthHurts: Everyone’s so sensitive. Not every comment about a woman is misogyny. They weren’t even being that harsh. 

@/WAGsAreForModels: It’s called having standards. F1 drivers date models and actresses, not some chick who writes about elf sex. Be serious. 

@/LandoDeservesBetter69: Not to be rude, but they’re kinda right. Lando could have literally anyone. Why settle?

@/NoMoreNepotism: Bet she only got famous because of Lando. No one was talking about her books before this. Typical clout-chaser behavior. 

@/F1BookClub: Imagine being so insecure that you need to dunk on a woman who’s objectively more successful than you. Anyway, y’all should read An Autumn of Fire and Stone. Great book, would recommend. 

@/LandoFan14:  Lando: actually in love with Lizzie These guys: ‘But why isn’t she a model?’ Get a life, man. 

YouTube Transcript – Full Throttle & Fiction, Episode 32

Hosts: Tessa Lane & Jamie Foster 

Title: Lando Norris, Lizzie Treshton & The Romantasy/F1 Crossover of Our Dreams

(Podcast intro music plays, fading out as the hosts settle in.)

Tessa Lane: Okay, listen. I know we’re all still emotionally recovering from this revelation, but we need to talk about how we are actually living in a dream crossover event.

Jamie Foster: We’re talking “Marvel meets Star Wars” level of unexpected but completely legendary crossover. Lando Norris, F1’s beloved chaos gremlin, is dating Lizzie Treshton, queen of romantasy and the woman who has personally ruined our lives with her books. (clutches chest dramatically)

Tessa Lane: I still can’t believe this is real. Like, my two completely separate hyperfixations just decided to collide and make the internet combust.

Jamie Foster: (laughing) Same. I’m still trying to process it. Like, I spent years sobbing over her books, and now I find out she’s dating an F1 driver? And not just any F1 driver, but Lando Freaking Norris?

Tessa Lane: It’s actually the funniest thing ever because Lizzie—who writes about tragic, brooding fae princes and fated soulmates—is out here dating the human embodiment of a golden retriever. (laughs)

Jamie Foster: (grinning) And you just know that she’s mentally rewriting Lando as some kind of mischievous trickster fae lord who causes problems on purpose but in, like, a deeply endearing way.

Tessa Lane: Oh, 1000%. The next book she writes? The love interest is going to have “chaotic, drives really fast, makes bad jokes, but is secretly a sweetheart” energy. And we’ll all just know.

Jamie Foster: (mock serious) Lizzie, blink twice if Lando has started pitching plot ideas.

Tessa Lane: No, but actually. And can we talk about how people doubted her success? Like, some people were actually out here like, “Who is she?” as if this woman isn’t a New York Times bestselling author with millions of copies sold worldwide. (shakes head in disappointment)

Jamie Foster: Like, be serious. She’s out here building fantasy empires, and people want to act like she’s just some random? No, babes, she’s the moment. Some of us have been in the trenches with her books for years. We have suffered. We have cried. We have made fanart at 3 a.m. in emotional distress.

Tessa Lane: Her Twitter alone should’ve told people she was going to be a menace to the F1 world. She’s been unhinged for years, and now she has paddock access and a platform? We’ve already won.

Jamie Foster: Oh, she is going to thrive in this environment. Like, imagine her at a Grand Prix, just casually tweeting something like, “The real battle today is Charles vs. Carlos, but if either of them crash, I am writing them into my next book as cursed lovers destined for war.”

Tessa Lane: (wheezing) No, but let’s talk about the most important part of this entire situation—Mara. Lizzie’s Labrador service dog, aka the only WAG that matters.

Jamie Foster: Mara is a cultural reset. This dog is already more famous than half the grid. Like, she has fan edits. She has fan accounts. I saw someone tweet, “Mara could win a championship before Ferrari at this rate,” and I haven’t known peace since.

Tessa Lane: (mock gasps) Speaking of Ferrari… LIZZIE. IS. A. FERRARI. FAN. And not just casually. Like, she’s been ride or die for Ferrari since childhood. She’s a full-on Tifosi.

Jamie Foster: I just need to know… did she absolutely lose her mind when Lewis Hamilton announced he was moving to Ferrari? Did she faint? Did she ascend? Did she write a 10,000-word emotional essay about how this is the greatest thing to ever happen to the sport? Because I feel like she did.

Tessa Lane: Oh, she definitely had a meltdown. Like, I just imagine Lando coming home and finding her sitting in complete silence, staring at a Ferrari poster, just whispering, “Seven-time world champion. In red.”

Jamie Foster: (laughing) And meanwhile, Lando’s standing there like, “So… you’re gonna support me at McLaren, right?” And Lizzie just does not answer.

Tessa Lane: (grinning) She’s just like, “Babe, I love you, but this is bigger than us.”

Jamie Foster: Honestly, this entire thing is the best thing to happen to F1 pop culture in years. Final thoughts?

Tessa Lane: Lizzie Treshton is an icon. Lando is lucky. Mara is royalty. And the romantasy x F1 crossover is the serotonin boost we all needed.

Jamie Foster: Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, everyone go pre-order Lizzie’s next book and prepare for the chaos she’s about to unleash in the paddock. (blows kiss to camera, grinning)

(Outro music fades in as the episode ends.)

Comments: 

@/FaerieQueen89: I swear I opened this video thinking, “No way, this crossover is real,” and now I’m emotionally INVESTED. Lizzie Treshton writing romantasy by day and attending McLaren garage debriefs by night is the kind of duality I aspire to.

@/Mara4WDC: Mara being the first Labrador to achieve WAG status is actually the most important part of this. Somebody get her a tiny team jacket and a paddock pass.

@/TifosiTears: “Babe, I love you, but this is bigger than us.” SCREAMING The fact that Lizzie is a lifelong Ferrari fan and her fave driver is Lewis Hamilton makes this 1000x funnier. Lando fighting for his life against her deeply rooted Ferrari loyalty.

@/BookishChaos: Can’t wait for Lizzie’s next book where the broody, fae warrior prince just happens to have suspiciously Lando-esque traits. Like, “his eyes gleamed with mischief as he smirked, trouble always one step behind him.”

@/CertifiedMcLarenMenace:  Lando: “You’re supporting me at McLaren, right?” Lizzie: intensely staring at a Ferrari poster “Seven-time world champion. In red.”

@/F1AndFantasyForever:  I was today years old when I realized my two greatest hyperfixations could actually merge into one chaotic, beautiful mess. We are LIVING in the golden age.

@/ElvenKissesAndRaceCars: Romantasy book fans: crying over soulmates and prophecy-driven love stories F1 fans: crying over tire degradation and strategy calls Me, now realizing I can be BOTH: SOBBING IN ITALIAN

@/MaraStan69: Mara supremacy. She’s the real main character. Lizzie and Lando are just side quests in her journey to world domination.

@/LandoPlsConfirm:  I need Lando to address this IMMEDIATELY. Does he know his girlfriend’s books have emotionally destroyed half the internet? Does he know we have trauma?

@/ChaosGremlinXL: I came for the F1 gossip. I stayed because now I need to read every book Lizzie has ever written.

@/MaxForMara: Someone please put Mara in a Ferrari cap so we can confirm which team she supports. This is IMPORTANT.

@/McLarenBookClub: If you had told me last year that one of the most successful romantasy authors on the planet would be dating Lando Norris, I would have laughed. And yet, here we are. The crossover NOBODY predicted, but EVERYONE needed.

@/FaerieTalesAndFastLaps: Lizzie going from writing about fae warriors to sitting in the McLaren garage like it’s totally normal… Ma’am, are you aware you are LIVING in a fantasy novel? The girl with epilepsy who was never supposed to have this life, thriving in a world of speed, chaos, and international fame. Like, GIVE US THE BOOK.

@/WitchesAndWheelTracks: Me: “I don’t have time for a new hyperfixation.” Also me: scrolling through every single Lizzie Treshton tweet and trying to find evidence of Lando references in her books

@/RedBullButMakeItRomantasy: The way she could write a book about the F1 grid as if they were a fantasy court and it would SELL. Max as the battle-worn fae king. Lando as the mischievous prince who never takes things seriously until he does. Charles as the tragic heir with a prophecy on his shoulders. IT WRITES ITSELF.

@/TifosiTrash: Lando really fell for a girl who would 1000% choose Ferrari in a heartbeat. The irony is delicious.

@/JustHereForMara: Mara being the unexpected star of this relationship is something I deeply respect. She’s not just a service dog, she’s a cultural icon.

@/RomantasyAndRacing:  Lizzie fans: “She has changed our lives with her writing.” F1 fans: “She has changed our lives by making Lando’s life infinitely funnier.”

@/IlPredestinatoWife: CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT LIZZIE MET LEWIS HAMILTON. THIS WOMAN HAS BEEN A FERRARI FAN HER WHOLE LIFE. HER FAVORITE DRIVER IS LEWIS. DID SHE CRY? DID SHE PANIC? LANDO, GIVE US THE BEHIND-THE-SCENES.

@/ElvenQueenOfSpa:  This woman has had multiple New York Times bestsellers, a legendary romantasy series, a loyal fanbase that would riot for her… and now she’s dating one of the biggest names in F1. She is the moment.

@/Gasly’sCroissant:  Does this mean Lando is now legally required to read her books? I need this man live-reacting to An Autumn of Fire and Stone.

@/MaraForPaddockPass:  Mara needs a tiny headset. I need Lando to carry her into the paddock like the royalty she is.

@/ChaosGoblinV2:  Lando: “Babe, can you come to my race?” Lizzie: in a Ferrari shirt, holding a Lewis Hamilton book “Uhhhhh….”

@/KnightOfMcLaren:  Her books are all about fate, destiny, and soulmates. I need to know if she secretly believes she and Lando are fated. I NEED ANSWERS.

@/SoftForSoulmates: Lando and Lizzie being a thing is proof that life is just a long, weird fantasy novel and we are all side characters.

[strawberryforks]

cops & chaos // tim bradford x f!reader

(part 1/3)

warnings: violence, kidnapping, guns, uhh probably other stuff too

a/n: thank you @113littlecrime for requesting i lovelovelove a good angsty plot-line. also, i wrote this instead of doing my classwork (#pleasevalidatemypreferredprocrastinationmethods) and i’m really hoping this means that the writers-block is gone because i’ve written over 5k words today after a way-too-long break. four-something-thousand of them was fanfic but trust, i’ll get back to my originally scheduled program (my silly little romantasies) soon

You lost your phone during the struggle so Life 360, the app your boyfriend insisted you download, would not come in clutch. The only person you could rely on right now was yourself and you… well, you were a little bit busy. Tied up with something, if you will.

You wanted your phone–wanted whatever invasion of privacy you could get. As long as it screamed: Here! I’m right here! And now? You were regretting turning down the one-month anniversary gift Tim had tried to give you, too.

“Baby,” he’d said, “please take it.” Tim Bradford tried pushing the box with a custom necklace inside of it back to you. Upon first glance, you had loved it. Studded with your birthstone, you were in awe. Immediately, you plucked it from where it lie and studied it appreciatively. When your thumb and index finger brushed over the jewelry, Tim looked nervous. You repeated the motion and something poked you—you moved it closer to your eyes and barked out an anxious bout of laughter. An incredulous one. Your boyfriend of one month (sure, you had known each other forever. Gone to elementary school together, then to the military, then, after being discharged you had decided to join him in his next adventure: becoming a cop. You and Tim had known the inner workings of each other’s mind, always. You were best friends but the label was never strong enough; best friends but did things best friends didn’t. Tim and you went out to eat and he always insisted on paying. When he was anywhere he needed a DD–or anything really–you were who he called. Once upon a time, he would rescue you from shitty boyfriends, then, he’d be jealous of the decent ones. Happy for you, but jealous, as you wasted time better spent with another whatshisface. You realised pretty quickly that your relationship, the only serious one you ever had, wasn’t fulfilling you. When you realised what was missing, that Tim was missing, you broke it off, lest you lead on a poor bloke while being in love, because that’s what you were) with your best friend. Things went back to the normal you knew. For three more years, you and Tim were friends with all kinds of benefits and just… no label. It took a friend and coworker, Angela Lopez, starting a family for him to realise he wanted to, too. And sure, the two of you, with your unorthodox relationship could’ve moved in together and called yourself roommates. You could’ve eventually had kids and called yourself co-parents but Tim came to the conclusion he wanted to call you his, instead. You always had been but the label was nice) still, your boyfriend of one month had given you a necklace with a tracker in it and you were only one half of shocked and appalled. “Tim, no,” you told him. You handed the box back, necklace plopped unceremoniously inside of it. “That, just so you know, is crazy.”

You two argued. Nothing bad but nothing good, either.

“Please, it’s for your safety”//”I’m just as capable of taking care of myself as you are. Do you want to wear a glorified collar and be microchipped like a dog?”//”I’ll wear one if you do,” and you snorted at that one, but,//”No, Tim. I already downloaded that stupid app of yours. (Life 360) Just because we slapped a label on this—us—doesn’t mean you need my location every second of every day.”//”You already tell me where you’re going, Y/n/n–”//”Exactly! I already tell you where I’m going so this is unnecessary. It’s a pretty necklace so I’ll wear it on one condition”//Of course. Anything”//”The tracker comes out.”

You were stubborn and you were an idiot. So, while a pretty necklace, covered in your birthstone, rested below your collarbone it was useless. Pretty but useless: how you were feeling right about now. Well, scratch that… with your hands wrenched behind your back, your wrists rubbed raw from the rope that pinned them together, and the blood smeared on your cheek and dripping from your bottom lip, you weren’t feeling too hot. Pretty wasn’t a descriptor you could use unless it was a prefix. You were in a pretty shit situation, you had been pretty stupid, walking home alone in the dark when you had a feeling the black SUV parked at the gas station you shopped at was the same one that had been parked on your street when you went for your morning job. You were pretty embarrassed that you’d gotten into your current situation and moreover, you were pretty pissed off.

Tied to a shitty chair inside of a shitty warehouse you felt like the stereotypical victim and that was something that, in all your years on this earth, you had never been. Water dripped onto the ground from a hole in the rusted sheet metal roof and a crowd of thugs assembled a few dozen feet away from you. Some of them wore skee masks but the ones that were too dumb to, you cataloged, taking note of their appearances and adding them to your shit-list. When, not if, you got out of here you would make it your personal mission to send all of these losers to jail.

Wonder how they’ll like being trapped.

You’re getting ahead of yourself.

Way.

There’s duct tape covering your mouth and you lick it until there’s space between the plush of your lips and the grey of the tape. Some skin goes with but we can’t all be winners, can we? Then, able to speak again and ready to make them regret the shoddy attempt at shutting you up: spoiler they can’t, you start seeking some attention. “Hey assholes!” you yell, “you know you’re supposed to treat your house-guests well, right? I mean, you’re halfway there! Thanks for taking my coat, and all! (you’re fucking cold) But like, I could use some water. And not introducing yourselves? Dick move.”

You get your water. A bucket of it, thrown in your face.

Like a wet dog, you shake your head. Hair, weighed down by wetness, whips every which way. It slaps against your skin. Burns, a little.

You’re like a dog. A wet dog, shaking off. You snarl like a dog too, spit like one. You let them know you’ll bite like one, too, if the opportunity presents itself.

Your wrists twist behind you, toying with the rope. It doesn’t loosen, barely has any give, and all it does is chafe and chafe.

“I thought I told you to shut her up!” Shouted one of the mask-wearing men.

“You’re buddies are incompetent,” you spit, wishing you could swipe the water away from your face. The hair out of your eyes,

The man, the one whose running this circus you’ve unfortunately found yourself a part of stalks closer, and you figure this is as good of time as ever to try and figure out what the hell is going on. “What do you want?” you ask, cautiously, as he moves even closer.

His shadow falls over you like a cloak; like the rescue blanket the EMTS will drape over your shoulders if your cop-buddies find you, like the arms that would wrap around you if Tim, did, and like the black sheet that would cover you if it all went wrong. As skilled as you were - you weren’t naive and knew this situation was a precarious one. At any time, it could go bad. If you had an idea of the man’s motivation, maybe you could pull a Nolan. Talk to them until their ears bled and their hearts, too, until they let you go and begged for forgiveness in confession at a church. “What’s your plan here, bud? Why me?”

“Y/n L/n.”

Well that’s fan-fucking-tastic. It’s personal.

You pay special attention to his voice, then. To the man's brown eyes and the bushy eyebrows half-visible in the mask’s holes. It’s not familiar but… but maybe your wrong. In your various careers, both dangerous, you’ve seen many faces. On case files, mid-battle, on the street. This one is unspecial; nothing new. “That’s me,” you say (because the dude knows already)

“What’s your name?” you return wearing a too-shitty smile. Maybe you’re a glutton for punishment.

His calloused hand smacked into your face. A sharp sensation stung your cheek and the silver band he wore on his ring ringer (married? No way) sliced your flesh. You could feel it swell, wiped it onto your shoulder anyways. You bite your tongue, lest you say anything else that ends up with you being hit again. “What do you want? Is it money?” you don’t suggest the possibility that it’s revenge; you don’t want to give whoever this is the idea. You know it’s likely, know you’ve made enemies and–

“Your partner,” he sneers, “is digging around where he shouldn’t be. We figured that this would change his attitude, take something of his, and he would focus on you. Not… well, sweetheart, that’s none of your business.”

It was revenge. Not on you. Hm, you thought, I feel a little less shitty now that I know this isn’t all my fault.

“So what? You’re going to kill me? Distract him with grief?” You really hope that’s not the fucking plan. The man, he doesn’t react to your statement–it’s chilling and reassuring. Chilling, because the thought of death doesn’t phase him and reassuring, comforting, because he isn’t overtly eager. He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t smack you again.

“No. You’re worth more alive than in the ground, though… an unmarked grave might be how our plans change if you don’t cooperate. He’d keep searching until he found a body, wouldn’t he? So loyal, so determined. (You’re starting to think this guy has a thing for your boyfriend. A little crush, maybe?) So stupid, poking around where he doesn’t belong. If Tim doesn’t learn to play our game you won’t be the only one cold and gone.”

You cringed.

“You’re just going to keep me here, then? Tied up? Under lock and fucking key?”

“Under rope and duct tape, you mean.”

You can’t help it. It’s instinct first, then it’s a slowly brewing plan. You won’t let them hurt Tim; you’ve protected him before, will again. The mixture of spit and blood in your mouth passes your pursed lips and lands on the uppermost bridge of your kidnapper’s nose. “Dumb little–” and then there’s that hand, in your face again. This time he hit you so hard your head spun. Ears ringing, the chair you were tied to wobbled and hit the ground with a large crack. The stupid fucker left you like that, on your side, not mindful of your hands while he continued to gloat and monologue like some wannabe Doofensmirtz protege.

“Tim will be so busy looking for you he won’t realise that my guys, they’re looking for him. A bullet will do nicely, won’t it? WIA to KIA, just like that? Survive in the–”

In the military. This man is military.

You wonder how he got in. Wonder, how someone so stupid, so ignorant, so blinded by ego and cockiness, could’ve been trusted to serve the country.

You don’t find out.

Not as you’re stood back up and leaned against a wall (because one of the chair’s legs broke) not as your neck bends at an angle you know you’ll feel for weeks, and not as in your closed fist, sits a piece of broken glass.

[aceyalonso]

F1 drivers if they were on the r/AITAH subreddit

drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto

warnings/notes : jos verstappen 🤮

a/n : i know i said i was on hiatus but c'mon this was such a fun idea

main masterlist | taglist form

So this might sound weird, but here goes. My girlfriend and I (both 23) love visiting new places, and she’s a big animal lover. She found this adorable cat café nearby and has been talking about going for weeks. I wasn’t as excited but figured it’d be fun to surprise her, so I booked us a spot and thought I’d try to make it extra special.

Here’s the thing: I wanted to be "that guy" who shows up with a bag of cat treats so all the cats would flock to us. It sounds ridiculous, but my goal was to make her day. When we got there, I pulled out the treats and instantly had a few cats’ attention. My girlfriend laughed, but within a few minutes, an employee came over, looking annoyed, and told me I couldn't give the cats treats from outside.

Apparently, they have specific diets or something, and I was "interfering." I apologized, put the treats away, and thought that was the end of it. But soon after, another employee came up, saying we were being "disruptive" because all the cats were lingering around us, and they even hinted we might need to leave if it didn’t stop. I hadn’t meant to cause a scene and told them it wasn’t a big deal—we’d stop and just hang out like everyone else. But by this point, my girlfriend was pretty embarrassed, and it killed the vibe of our day.

We left a bit earlier than planned, and now my girlfriend thinks it was a bit of a jerk move, even though she appreciated the effort. I didn’t mean to upset anyone or break the rules, just thought it’d be fun to make the cats a bit more social. But now I’m wondering if I messed up by not sticking to the café’s way of doing things.

So, AITAH?

Edit: I’ve learned my lesson. I will never underestimate the dietary regulations of a cat café ever again.

So, I (24M) have this bad habit of forgetting what’s in my fridge. A while ago, I bought some chicken, but I totally forgot about it, and it just sat there for months. I was cleaning out my fridge the other day and found the chicken at the back, and it still looked fine to me—didn’t smell bad, didn’t look weird—so I thought, "Why not? It’s still good."

I cooked it up, had a nice meal, and didn’t think much of it. But then, later that night, I told my mom about it (thinking she'd just laugh), and she completely freaked out. She went on this whole rant about food safety, salmonella, and how I could’ve poisoned myself. I was just like, "It tasted fine, mom, calm down."

She kept texting me all night asking if I felt okay, if I was getting any stomach pains, and even called a few of my friends to check in on me. Honestly, I’m fine—nothing happened, and I feel perfectly normal.

But now she’s upset with me, saying I’m being careless and that I should never eat food that old, even if it seems fine. I just didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. I mean, people eat leftovers all the time, right? It wasn’t even that old.

So, AITAH for eating chicken that’s been in my fridge for 9 months and making my mom worry unnecessarily?

Edit: Just to clarify, I didn’t intentionally keep it for 9 months. I honestly just forgot about it in the back of the fridge. And no, I’m not sick. Everything’s fine. I promise I won’t be eating anything old again anytime soon!

I (27M) have a dog, Leo, who’s basically my best friend. He’s super friendly and well-behaved, and honestly, I just feel better when he’s around. I bring him everywhere I go – to cafes, parks, and friend gatherings. You name it, Leo’s there. Most people are fine with it because he’s adorable and loves everyone.

Recently, though, my friends have started making comments about it. Last weekend, we met up at this small, cozy café for brunch, and I brought Leo along. He just curled up next to my chair and didn’t bother anyone. But my friend Paul pulled me aside afterward and said it was kind of annoying that I kept bringing Leo without asking. He said not everyone wants a dog around all the time, and it’s “getting old.”

I don’t understand where this is coming from, especially since Leo’s never caused any problems. I figured since no one had said anything before, they were fine with it. Plus, I’m always careful to keep him out of people’s way, and he’s honestly better behaved than most dogs I know. I feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should have checked with everyone first.

So, AITAH for always bringing my dog? Should I have asked before assuming everyone was okay with it?

Edit: Just for context, Leo’s a small dog – not the type to jump on people or bark a lot. He just sits quietly and naps most of the time. Also, I’ve always cleaned up after him when necessary, so he hasn’t left any “souvenirs” for anyone to deal with.

So, I (39M) have this friend, Nico (also 39M), and we’ve been friends since we were kids. We’re both super competitive by nature, and we tend to push each other a lot. Whether it’s video games, sports, or even something like mini-golf, everything somehow turns into a competition between us. It’s mostly just for fun… until recently.

A few weeks ago, we were at a friend’s birthday party, and they had one of those racing setups in the living room. Of course, Nico and I immediately challenged each other, and we both got really into it. I mean, I might’ve been trash-talking a bit (okay, maybe a lot), but we were both laughing, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Well, I ended up beating him by a fraction of a second, and I might’ve celebrated a bit too enthusiastically—think victory lap around the living room, calling him out in front of everyone, the whole deal. After that, Nico got pretty quiet and didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the night. Later, a mutual friend told me that Nico felt like I was “rubbing it in,” and it embarrassed him.

Now I feel bad. I honestly thought we were just having fun and didn’t realize he’d take it so personally. I tried to apologize, but he just brushed it off and hasn’t really been himself around me since.

So… AITAH for taking things a bit too far with my friend, or was it all just part of the usual friendly rivalry?

Edit: We’ve always had this kind of back-and-forth, so I’m not sure why this time it got to him. Just thought I’d get some outside perspective before I bring it up with him again.

Okay, I know this sounds insane, but hear me out. I (30M) love making pancakes, and I’m pretty proud of my recipe. It’s become sort of a tradition to make them for my family when I visit my parents. They’re always really nice about it and say they love them, but... I’m starting to think they’ve just been too polite.

A few weeks ago, I was at my parents’ house and decided to whip up a big batch of pancakes for breakfast. My mom and dad both had seconds, and I thought it was a win. But later that night, my mom started having really bad stomach pains. We took her to the hospital, and she ended up needing surgery for appendicitis. It was a scary experience, but thankfully, she’s okay now.

Here’s where it gets weirder. Just a few days after my mom came home from the hospital, my dad started having the same symptoms. At first, we joked that it was sympathy pains, but he ended up in the ER too, with the exact same issue—appendicitis.

Now my whole family is convinced it was my pancakes. I know logically that my cooking can’t cause appendicitis, but I can’t help but feel responsible because they both got sick right after eating my breakfast. My parents keep joking that they’re never eating my pancakes again, and my siblings have been giving me a hard time about it, saying I’m banned from the kitchen.

So, AITAH for giving both my parents appendicitis with my cooking, or am I just an unlucky chef?

Edit: Just to clarify, I don’t actually think I gave them appendicitis, but the timing is very suspicious, and now my parents are scared of my pancakes. I might need a new family recipe...

So, I (27M) have two cats (Jimmy & Sassy), and they’re pretty much my babies. They’re super affectionate with me but can be a bit picky about who they like. My dad (52M), on the other hand, isn’t exactly a "cat person." He’s more of the “why do you have pets that don’t do anything useful?” type, but he still visits often and tolerates them because he knows they’re important to me.

The other day, my dad came over, and as usual, my cats were lounging on the couch. He decided to sit down and give them a little nudge to move over, but instead of just shuffling away, one of my cats (Jimmy) swiped at his face. It wasn’t a deep scratch, but it was enough to leave a red mark and get my dad pretty annoyed. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit because he was acting all grumpy about it, muttering something about "those spoiled cats."

He got even more annoyed when he saw me laughing and said I should discipline my cats better and not let them scratch people. I tried explaining that cats are territorial and react like that when they’re suddenly pushed, especially by someone they’re not used to. I offered him a band-aid, but he refused and ended up leaving earlier than planned.

Now my mom is telling me I should’ve been more sympathetic and that I should’ve scolded my cat instead of laughing. But honestly, I feel like it was just a normal cat reaction, and my dad knows how they can be. So now I’m wondering, AITAH for laughing when my cat scratched my dad’s face instead of taking it more seriously?

Edit: Just to clarify, my cats don’t usually attack people. They’re very cuddly with me and my friends, but my dad’s not around them enough for them to be comfortable. I’ll definitely make sure he approaches them differently next time... if he ever wants to come back!

So, this might sound a bit weird, but hear me out. I (26M) work at this company, and my boss, "Toto" (52M), and I have a really good relationship. We get along great, share a lot of common interests, and he’s been a bit of a mentor to me. We hang out outside of work sometimes, and every now and then, I’ll stay over at his place after we have dinner or watch a game, just because it’s more convenient.

Recently, my friends found out about this and started making fun of me, calling it “sleepovers” with my boss. I laughed it off at first, but they’ve started saying it’s kind of weird and unprofessional to be that close with your boss. They’re acting like I’m trying to suck up or get some kind of special treatment, but that’s honestly not the case. I just enjoy his company, and we have a good time hanging out.

The thing is, I never really mentioned it to my friends before because it just didn’t seem like a big deal. I figured if I told them, they’d blow it out of proportion (which is exactly what’s happening now). But now they’re saying it’s odd that I didn’t bring it up sooner and that it’s kind of strange to be having “sleepovers” with someone who’s technically in charge of me at work.

So, AITAH for not telling my friends that I sometimes crash at my boss’s place, or are they just overreacting?

Edit: For context, it’s not like I’m staying there every weekend or anything. It’s maybe once a month if we’re having a late night and it’s easier than going all the way back to my place. Plus, he’s got a massive guest room, so it’s not like I’m sleeping on the couch or something. It’s just a practical arrangement

Okay, so I (21M) have a bit of a problem, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even a problem or just something I can’t control. I’ve noticed lately that whenever I’m doing interviews or talking to reporters, I end up coming off as flirting with them, even though I’m not trying to at all.

I’m naturally a friendly person, and I like to joke around and be engaging. But I’ve had a few reporters (and even some photographers) tell me after interviews that I’ve been “charming” or “too smooth” with them. Some of them even hinted that I was “leading them on.” The thing is, I don’t even notice it happening. I just talk to them like I would anyone else, but apparently, I’m making it seem like I’m flirting—without even trying!

One reporter even gave me her number after an interview, and when I asked if she was just being friendly, she said, “You were a little more than friendly.” I was totally confused because I thought we were just having a good conversation about racing. Now I’m worried that I’m giving the wrong impression to people without meaning to, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or make things uncomfortable.

So, AITAH for accidentally flirting with reporters and leading them on when I really don’t mean to? Should I tone down my "natural charm"?

Edit: Just to clarify, I’m not trying to flirt with anyone, reporter or not. I’m just being myself, but it seems like it’s coming off differently than I intended. It’s a bit awkward now, and I’m wondering if I should change how I interact in interviews.

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@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

@livsturnioloo @lilorose25 @si1ver06 @zestytimbit @morgrinha

@callsignwidow

[artsninspo]

010 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 009

♠ summary: Lorence is confronted with the realities of her current predicament, unchartered territory with her Boss. Her past and present collide while Terry is away on business. But, when he returns - old habits die hard. ❤️‍🩹 🌶️

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ warnings: NSFW, mature themes

♠ word-count: ~5K

⌖ - Multiple Locations

I walk alongside Joel with a smile as he holds Beau’s leash. The past week and a half he’s kept my dog to keep up with Beau’s physical needs, and allow me rest and recovery. My good boy Beau is having the time of his life with Joel’s kids, but now he won’t stop looking back at me. His usual brisk pace is moderate - it’s like he knows I’m hurt and his exuberance is why we’re a part.

“The wife keeps asking when you’re gonna let him sire a litter” Joel asks as we walk to the dog park.

“You know I’ll want to keep every single one of those puppies or make sure they’re close by and I don’t have six people who want a larger dog” I tell him.

“No working lines?” Joel asks to be funny.

“No, none of Beau's babies will be doing any scary shit” I tell him and he laughs.

“You’re not limping as much,” he says.

“I’m feeling better” I tell him honestly.

“And your wrist?” He asks.

“Seems a bit slower to heal” I admit holding up the brace. “Have you heard anything?” I ask and his expression told me he has.

“Rich’s furious” he sighs, talking about the Boss but since that night on the beach I haven’t seen anger from him.

“Really?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s his own personal project. Everyone’s talking about how he didn’t even wait to get war ready. He just went in there without protection and a handgun after you.” Joel says with eyes trained on me. He’s capable of sensing deception, and I’m no master at it so I swallow hard to give myself time to choose my words wisely.

“It wasn’t the smartest thing to do” I admit. Joel nods and I don’t realize I’m anxious until Beau puts his muzzle against my hand. I smile looking down and pet his head.

“I’m glad he did, sorry I wasn’t there” Joel says again.

“You’re taking care of Beau and I’m glad you were safe. You followed protocol” I remind.

“Emerson said he saw you and Richmond leave the Monaco accommodation together the night before.” Joel trails openly fishing for information..

“After three years of being a tyrant and an asshole he showed me he can be nice. It was surprising, we walked my routes together. He was trying to help me calm down.” I tell Joel and he nods. There’s no happiness in his expression. I swallow bracing for a lecture and he sighs.

“I know you and I know Terry…” He starts.

“Joel-”

“Let me finish” he says in a tone he doesn’t use often. I stop to look at him. “I know you’re type and Richmond isn’t that.” Joel sighs, letting Beau off his leash in the empty dog park. I watch my dog bound away freely. “Are you listening to me?” He asks.

“Yes, you said Richmond isn’t my type” I repeat beginning to shut down.

“He’s not a fling abroad, or a ‘call me whenever you’re in town’ kind of guy. I’m not judging you Lorence.” Joel says knowing me well.

“Sounds like you are,” I mutter.

“I’m not Lorence, I get it. I do. I’m a man. I get wanting freedom. I get that you’re independent and I respect it. But if you think for one minute whatever’s going between the two of you is something you can put away when you’re done I’m letting you know it isn’t that. I had a feeling Terry liked you but fuck did I underestimate how much. The man was willing to take on fire. He’s not the free spirited type you're comfortable with” Joel says stressed.

“Terry and I aren’t sleeping together” I tell him and he puts his head into his hands, sighing. “What?” I ask.

“That’s even worse” he exclaims.

“How?!” I respond.

“We all put ourselves in danger daily. If you meet a soldier who can keep it in his pants, the man is in love. If the display in Monaco isn’t enough - there it is. You need to be straight with him, Lorence. Tell him what you want and what you’re used to. Because Richmond’s not the kind of man I can say I can confidently protect you from” Joel says having had to play the role of crazy ‘older brother’ for me once or twice.

“He wouldn’t hurt me” I say before I can process it. It’s something I know deep down. Joel looks at me like I’m hopeless. It’s new territory for us and somehow this conversation has aged him. My happy go lucky friend is now a concerned father figure. “I’ll talk to him” I concede wanting nothing less than to air out my attachment issues to Terry. Beau comes back from his patrol of the area and Joel tosses his ball for him. I watch beau bound after the ball and retrieve it with a proud prance completely unaware of life's challenges.

“Lorence I’m not trying to beat up on you, okay?” Joel says and I sigh.

“I know, you're a good friend.” I sigh.

“I think you and Terry would be good together if that’s what you wanted. But I also know it takes you longer to settle and trust people.” Joel says knowing the number of men I’ve kept at arm's length, how many girlfriend requests I've declined over the years. I prefer to keep my romantic life as far away as possible from my personal life.

“I don’t even know how to cook well, Terry’s all distinguished company and social commitments. He’s probably like you and wants kids for his family name and I don’t” I start on all the reasons we wouldn’t work long term aloud.

“Stop it Lorence. You learned how to be an agent, you can learn how to cook but you have enough money to hire a live-in chef or order in every day. I’m not telling you to cut it out or end it. I’m telling you to think. You can’t do things the way you normally do. Rich’s your boss and you’re the best at what you do. Figure things out and move forward accordingly. Dont fuck up your work life for some excitement you’ll want to run from in a week. Maybe have Richmond go off on a tirade or two on you so you can figure out what’s going on between you without whispers. Just clean it up” Joel advises reading me for filth and giving me options. I smile appreciating that he doesn't coddle me.

“Okay”  I concede. “Have you ever seen Richmond with women?” I ask, wondering if there was an ex wife or someone else.

“Not seriously, not without a reason” he says.

I raise a brow, “what’s that mean?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Joel says and I give him an exasperated huff.

“So he’s never asked about me?” I ask.

“Oh he did, but he asks about everyone so I thought nothing of it.” Joel says.

“What’d he ask?”

“If you were single, then if I thought pairing you with some of our colleagues would lead to intimate affairs,” he says. I smile at Terrance’s futile fishing expeditions.

“If you were me, what would you do?” I ask Joel.

“I can’t put myself in the shoes of a woman” he says and I push him playfully with my good hand..

“You know what I mean”

“I know you’re happy and your life is full already but I would like to see you with someone. Someone who loves you and takes care of you. Someone that's always there and you can't avoid. I don't know if that's Terrance Richmond but if it is you deserve it all. Just know that he’s not your usual free spirited guy that’s gonna sit around when you don't call back. He’s a grown man and your boss” Joel says and I sigh with a lot more than I bargained for on my plate. Joel pulls me into a caring hug and I know I’m lucky to have him even if it’s not what I want to hear. He’s right. He’s never steered me wrong before and he’s partly to thank for where I am now in life. So I heed his advice.

…

I’ve been sitting in it all day. From the moment I got home to right now, after midnight I’ve been ruminating on my discussion with Joel. I wish he was wrong about me or Terry but I know deep down he isn’t. Terrance Richmond is a grown ass man with his shit together and isn't chasing his peak. By all means he’s already settled and successful. That’s the kind of resume that would usually keep me away. I’m the girl who likes a summer fling or a vacation romance every now and then. I need the predetermined start and end dates to keep me grounded and sane. That way there’s not too much room for distraction - that way I never end up like my mom. I sigh, wishing Beau was here as I sit alone in my house. Typically it’s my safe space but right now it feels haunted with visions of what was and what could be. Terrance grilling with my father, getting along with my mother - us kissing. 

I close my eyes wishing it wasn’t almost two in the morning and I could call Sin. I make my way to the kitchen for some melatonin when my phone rings. I frown seeing Terrance is calling. 

“Hey” I respond.

“Hey, what are you doing up?” he asks and I frown.

“Can’t sleep” I confess and I hear a car door close.

“What’s wrong, are your injuries keeping you up?” he asks.

“No,” I sigh. “How was your flight?” I ask, hearing a knock at my door. I pull up the security feed.

“It’s me” he says just as I confirm it. It’s like my brain shuts off in a second and I’m heading to let him in. He’s been gone for the past three days. I know now it was to do reconnaissance for what happened in Monaco but we haven’t talked about Monaco since the safehouse. He hugs me gently before putting a kiss on my head.

“Thought I’d drive past your place on my way home” he says, it would be weird if it were anyone else.

“How was your trip?” I ask.

“Could've been better, how are you feeling? If the meds are keeping you awake maybe have them adjusted” he says but I stopped needing my meds two days ago. 

“It’s not the medication - I don’t want to be here alone tonight and I realized it after Sin went to bed” I tell Terry.

“I can drop you off there if that's what you want?” he asks.

“Not it's okay” I sigh looking up at him. Finding peace in his light eyes is the very last thing I thought would ever be possible. I feel my nerves settle and he smirks leaning in to give me a quick kiss. 

“If you want me to stay I can or you can come over to my place” he offers. 

“Let me pack a bag” I smiled, letting go of him. I head up to my room and throw everything I’ll need in an overnight bag. I realize I've been advised against lifting and call him. He emerges moments later looking around at my bedroom. I realize the decor isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but I’m still finding my signature style. 

“Are all these plants real?” he asks.

“Yeah” I nod, getting my slippers and putting them in my bag. When I look at him he’s looking at the plants with a smile again.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he yawns.

“You don’t like it, do you?” I ask, thinking of my father who still doesn't understand why I have so much ‘dirt’ in my room. 

“I didn’t say that” he says coming over to my vanity as I pack my makeup bag. He dips his head sniffing my neck before placing a kiss on the same spot. 

“Which one is that?” he asks, looking at the perfume bottles in front of me. I hand him the bottle.

“Sin and I did a perfume workshop in Paris. I made this” I say.

“Is Sin your best friend?” he asks.

“Yup, my mom was the babysitter while aunt Kaye was out, so we’re very close” I explain.

“Pack a swimsuit,” he says.

“Why?” I ask heading over to my drawers to find one.

“I have a pool and water therapy is good for recovery,” he says. Of course he has a pool.

“Of course you have a pool, how else would you come up with sick and twisted water endurance tests for us” I tease getting my swimsuit and putting it in the bag. 

“Swimming is perfect low impact active recovery, that’s why I have a pool” he says as I zip my bag. He takes it with ease adding me to his load and descending the stairs. I lock up and I head to his car with him. I schedule send a text to Sin that I’m with Terrance so someone knows by location. My conversation gnaws at my consciousness as I get in with him.

“If you're having flashbacks from Monaco you can tell me, PTSD is better treated sooner than later” he says resting a hand on my thigh. 

“I’m not” I tell him truthfully.

“Lorence, I know what you look like at peace and I know how you look stressed,” he says. 

“The car is in darkness” I state matter of factly.

“Not dark enough” he responds.

“So the pretty cat eyes come with night vision?” I ask turning to his shadowy shadowy silhouette.

“I pay attention,” he says at the stoplight. Red hues are cast into the car and I make out worry in his expression.

“I’m just having a bad day,” I confess.

“Anything I can do?” He asks and it makes my heart swell. I lean on his shoulder.

“This is good” I admit and he gives my leg a squeeze. We drive for another twenty minutes in silence. I watch closely and find us in the most expensive residential part of town. I sit upright looking at the gorgeous homes as we enter the gated community. It’s not full of cookie-cutter houses; but architectural feats that are unique in their own way. We turn off the main road into a driveway lined with trees. We drive for another minute before arriving on a lit driveway and a castle-like house. I look at Terrance and wonder how much he actually makes. It makes my home look like a toy. He opens the garage and we drive in. He gets out with my bag and I follow suit. When we enter his home I step back and look around at his manor. It’s not that I didn't expect him to live in a nice place but I definitely didn't expect this. The room is white with black and grey accents all over. There are high ceilings and top of the line furnishings. Not a single thing is out of place and it’s classic but elevated like the man himself.

“Come on, let's take the elevator” he says. Of course he has an elevator. I follow him to a hidden elevator door that seamlessly integrates into the wall.

“DId you buy or build this?” I ask as we step in.

“I built it” he responds, pressing a console that takes us up. But the door in front of us doesn't open. One does to the side of us. He steps out first and by the scent of his cologne I know we’re in his closet. We enter the main part of his bedroom and his bed is bigger than any I've even seen before. “Let me get a shower, then if you're hungry we can get something to eat or drink.” he says leaving me to my own devices.

I’ve never been so out of step, actually Terrance Richmond keeps me in a state of frenzy. If he was a gentleman, he’d have offered me my own room. But we’re past that now aren't we? Joel's warning comes back to me as I change into pj’s instead of the silk negligee I packed. I sit on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and take it all in. I take off my wrist brace and massage the area as I take stock of his home. Why would he want me when he has all this and my own mother didn't want me? There it is, the thought that’s ruined every single one of my relationships. The pain that’s never really gone and keeps me in safe comfortable solitude. I wipe the silent tears and stand going to his full length mirror to wipe them away. I put on a brave face and sit back on the bed. Terry comes out minutes later smelling heavenly and with black silk pants.

“Your eyes are red,” he says.

“The tiredness hit me” I lie and he nods, pulling back the sheets for me to climb in. I do, facing away from him and he turns off the light. A moment passes before he reaches out and pulls me back against the heat of his bare chest, wrapping his arms around me. It takes a few minutes before our breaths sync and our chests rise and fall in tandem. It’s the most non sexually intimate exchange I've ever had with a man I don't consider family. I place my hand over his and he pulls me even closer.

“Feeling disoriented after a traumatic experience like what you went through in Monaco is normal. You don't have to be strong around me if you feel down” he says. “I know you’re crying - you don't have to tell me why. Just know I’m here” he says before kissing my cheek. He has the patience of a saint putting up with me like this when we should be keeping things light and fun.

“I’m sorry for ruining-”

“Lorence being real with me won't ruin anything” he says.

“Yes it will” I tell him.

“You’ve had a stressful few weeks. From Switzerland to now. In part because of me. You're having a bad day and telling me why won't ruin anything” he says in his usual cadence like he’s commanding time and there's no rush.

“Can we talk about it later? Or never?” I propose and he scoffs letting me go. It’s happening faster than I could have even imagined. He sits on the edge of the bed. It takes me a moment to swallow my fears and try to fix it.

“Tell me a joke, make me laugh” I say to break up the silence and distance but it stretches on. The rejection starts to sting until he clears his throat.

“What do me and elephants have in common?’ he asks, turning to me. It’s a trap, a well laid trap and I can't help but smile.

“You're tall and strong?” I propose not playing into it.

“What else?” he asks with humour in his voice. I shake my head not wanting to give him a complex about his ears anymore than I already have. 

“I don't know” I lie.

“We both never forget” he says, subverting my expectations and I laugh relieved to have not said the wrong thing. “And we have big ears,” he adds. I sit beside him and he taps on the sconces above his bed giving us dim light.

“What do you call a cow with no legs?” I ask.

“No clue” he shrugs.

“Ground beef” I respond and he shakes his head. “Your’s was worse” I snicker.

“It still made you smile,” he shrugs. 

“I hope you know I didn't mean anything by it. I just felt cornered and was popping off at the mouth” I apologize. 

“I know you weren't being malicious. I’ve heard much worse from people I pushed less. It’s pretty wholesome stuff for an agent” he says. 

“Here I was feeling bad” I shrug and he takes my chin kissing me softly.

“I’m not someone you have to handle with kid gloves Lorena.” The look he gives me is both scathing and sympathetic. My shoulders fall and I start to feel bad for my emotions today. Here I have this man that’s asking to be there for me and ran into a life threatening situation to rescue me, and I’m allowing the actions of others who never showed me that same concern decades ago ruin things.

“I’m so-”

“Let’s start tonight over” Terry says, cutting my apology off. I can’t help but smile.

“Okay” I nod and he lifts me off the bed and sits me across his lap.

“I missed you” he says, smothering me in quick kisses.

“I missed you too” I take his chin, bringing his lips to mine.

“When you miss me, call me, as long as I’m not in the middle of something I’ll answer”  he says.

“Okay”

“Got you something” he says and I sit up.

“Really?” I ask and he nods.

“It’s in the car let me go get it” he says standing and setting me down gently.

“Okay” I agree and he leaves. I look at my bag before going into it and grabbing the negligee. The bathroom lights flick on as I enter. It’s as impressive as what I've seen of the rest of the house. I rid myself of the pajama pants set and put on the night dress. I look myself over before walking back into the bedroom. I sit on the couch in the sitting area instead of the bed and he emerges with two bags. He looks up after setting them down. It takes a moment for him to locate me. His eyes focus on the change and he comes over holding a frame and something wrapped.

“The dress is nice,” he comments, drinking me in with his eyes.

“I don't sleep in pants usually - unless it's winter” I tell him as he takes the seat next to me.

“Good to know,” he says, placing the wrapped square on my lap. He turns on another lamp and I tear the brown wrapping paper. A night scene is in front of me and I smile the moment I recognize it. The beach at night, in Monaco where we sat together. I run my hand over the coarse texture of the sand.

“The artist used sand from the beach,” he says, confirming that’s where he spent the last few days.

“It’s gorgeous” I smile and he does too.

“You like it?” He asks and I nod. Getting this made for me only confirms I was on his mind while he was away.

“I do, thank you” I smile giving him a hug. He kisses my cheek before pulling out the frame housing the caricature art of us. In the chaos of my stuff being cleared out I thought for sure that art piece was left behind.

“I can't believe you had this framed” I laugh looking at it.

“The person at the studio said a frame was the best way to preserve it” he says and I kiss him.

“Now I’ve got to find somewhere to put this. I know where I’m gonna put the canvas” I tell him. “Thank you for thinking of me” I tell him and he seems to take a back.

“Lorena, I haven't stopped thinking about you since you walked into my office wearing that striped blue shirt and grey slacks.” he says stopping time. I turn to him and try to go back to that day. My heart races as I come up short on the memory. “Your hair was straight, parted in the middle and you smelled like flowers” he says. I swallow hard, blinking fast to keep the emotions at bay. My favorite perfume then was Miss Dior. Guilt swells as my appreciation grows and my emotions are a seesaw. “What?” he asks.

“I was doubting the logistics of us today. Not because I don't want to see where things go but … Terrance this is new for me. Not just that you're my boss and the CEO of the company I work for - I have to figure out to toe the line there. But even this; the sharing space … I probably don't make any sense. You already know I avoid uncomfortable situations and I like to run but I know I can't run from you … not that I want to but today it’s felt like my head wa in a pressure cooker” I confess struggling to articulate my complicated feelings and fears. Terry looks at me. His usual expression is replaced by an empathetic one. He reaches for me and places a kiss on my forehead instead of responding with words.

“What do you think?” I ask with a racing heart.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day” he says holding me instead of taking issue with my honest emotions. He’s so different from who I thought I knew him to be.

“You're not upset?” I ask.

“No” he says without needing to consider it. I take a moment before pulling back to look him over. He's resolute in his answer, his hand slides down over my dress resting on my hip. “You’re here now - in my arms, in my home, telling me how you felt, smelling good and looking better. What do I have to be upset about?” he asks, surprising me. “I’m not a CEO in this dynamic,” he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder. 

“Your dominance is not something you can turn off” I tell him and he smiles. “I’m not asking you to either but it's there” I tell him and he takes a moment smiling again. 

“What?” I ask.

“It’s not productive” he says, keeping whatever it is to himself. 

“Tell me”

“There are better ways to clear your head,” he advises. After our walk on the beach, I sit forward ready to hear his advice.

“I’m listening?’ I say and he comes in for a kiss, when he pulls away he gets up  and then somehow ends up on his knees in front of me. His eyes tell me where his mind is. I take a breath more familiar with this territory. He kisses each of my inner thighs.

“You have the CEO on his knees” he says, still dominating me in a submissive position. My heart races as passion pools in me. He waits for permission and I nod giving him the green light. His hands slide up my legs and under my thong, grabbing the sides he pulls it off. He scoots me forward gently on the side of my injury, he places kisses on my inner thighs sliding me onto my back comfortably before setting my legs over his shoulders so he’s locked in to my center and I’m locked in his hold. Terry caresses me, upping the tension and kindling sparks I didn't know existed. It leaves searing anticipation igniting all the parts of my body that drive sensory pleasure. He gives me a final look at the same time he takes my hand - our fingers interlock and his head dips out of sight and under the hiked up negligee. His beard tickles my center as he parts my other set of lips with his tongue.

The kiss builds to one of the ones my mouth is used to being treated with. My body’s reaction to him is something new as the tension builds. My hand caresses his waves in a gesture of encouragement and appreciation. There’s nothing to be said as my breaths grow increasingly more shallow. I go to cover my mouth but his fingers don’t release their grip on mine, not allowing the contact to break.

“Be as loud as you want baby” he says, giving me the green light. I swallow my moan and he blows on my clit sending a wave of pleasure through me. My moan is inevitable and when he starts sucking on it I'm finished. I squirm but he has me locked firmly in position giving me more and more. 

“Stay still for me baby” he says, sounding so patient. I moan trying to oblige him but it's so much and so good.

“Let me hear you Lorence” he says pausing, before I can obey he adds one of his long fingers into me sucking and fucking me. Taunting me. My nipples are harder than ever. The nerve endings in my core are stimulated to the point of delirium. 

“It feels so good” I praise his efforts.

“You’re perfect” he whispers finger fucking me as I come. His eyes are on me as I try to handle the sensations from the orgasmic relief. My body is several degrees hotter and I know he can see my nipples fighting to be seen and tended to under the silk dress. He keeps his eyes on me, letting one of my legs down and allowing me to watch him lap up my pleasure with the same attention to detail as he has for everything else. He's a perfectionist and that was nothing less. I sit up needing to kiss him, I pull him up to meet me so we’re face to face. Terry obliges the heat of his bare chest radiating into me, melting the apprehension away. I wrap my legs around his and feel his manhood poking me in my sternum through his pants. I want more, I need him. His eyes tell me we’re just getting started when the kiss is broken.

“Did you like that Lorence?” he smiles, licking what's left of my orgasm from his lips. His eyes spark as my expression changes. We’re so far gone from like, it’s time to practice making love.

authors note: sound off in the comments and let me know how you felt about getting to know Lorence's softer side and insecurities and how Terry's handling everything on his plate. Also, yes theres more 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️ in the next chapter - had to break it up because it was getting too long.

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[thepersonnamedsam]

you already know how much I love gen z driver! could you maybe write something of how would it be if gen z reader’s birthday happened to be during one of the gp’s? how everyone acts and makes it all about her?

happy birthday!

pairing: the genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: it’s the genz!drivers birthday, and it just happens to be the miami gp!

word count: 1.7k

warnings: some swear words and some google translated spanish and dutch :)

note: oh i just love all of your request, especially that one, bc i’m a birthday lover myself! have fun reading it and feel free to request more!! <3

masterlist/ taglist

The first people to congratulate her, were her parents. They called her, in the middle of the night; they forgot that time zones exist. But her heart was full when she picked up the phone at 3AM and both of her parents where singing ‚happy birthday‘ to her. What wasn’t so good, was that she had to be asleep, because it was a Sunday and race day! But it didn’t matter, it was her birthday!

Two hours later, her phone was ringing again, but this time not because someone was wishing her a happy birthday, no, it was her alarm. But today it was okay. 5AM on your birthday doesn’t feel that early, does it now? At least it didn’t for her.

Andy, her personal trainer, knocked on her door at exactly 6.30AM, holding a tiny cupcake with a candle in it. „Happy birthday, y/n!“, his voice cheerful and happy. Her smiled widened and her heart full with love again. „Thank you, Andy.“

„Are you ready for the race?“, Andy asked her. She nodded and closed her hotel door. „I’m excited to see Danny again and Nando and all the other people of course. Oh and definitely Lewis.“, Birthdays were her thing, she always missed them in school, either she had them on a weekend or she was on holiday. So, being surrounded by people who are important to her, was the best present she could’ve gotten.

On the way to the paddock, Andy let her pick out the music, her car playlist was blasting on full volume. Tongue Tied by GROUPLOVE was her favourite song at the moment, that’s why she was singing at the top of her lungs to the lyrics.

„Take me to your best friends house, go around this roundabout, oh yeah“, she looked at Andy as if he would follow the orders of the song.

The music died down, as they arrived at the paddock. Press was already waiting on her, they knew it was her special day and hoped to get some good footage of the birthday-girl. Usually the media annoyed her this early in the morning, but today, nothing could’ve ruined her day. She smiled and waved to the camera, spoke to some press people and had nice conversations with all of them.

The media always tried to find some gossip, especially on the young driver, but not today. They were happy to see her this happy.

As she set foot on the paddock, people were congratulating her. Pads on the back, some strokes on her arm here and there, everyone was nice to her, and who doesn’t enjoy some attention sometimes. Especially if it’s for something you didn’t work for. It was her favourite day of the year, Christmas is second.

„Danny!“, she shrieked as soon as she saw him. She sprinted towards the Australian and jumped into his arms. „I missed you so bad!“ Daniel just laughed and hugged the young driver. „Happy birthday, y/n.“

Her smile was consistent and contagious, every person she smiled at, they just had to smile back. Even Max smiled at her. Well, he always smiled at her, she was one of the persons that could make him smile.

„Max, can you give me a piggyback ride?“, she looked at him with puppy dog eyes and he just couldn’t deny her. „Of course, zus sister.“

As Martin Brundle spotted the two, he motioned to his cameraman to put the focus on them. „And now we see Max Verstappen carrying the birthday girl y/n. It is not rare to see the young driver interact with the different drivers. Let’s wish her a happy birthday“, he talked into the camera. „Hello you two, happy birthday y/n, am I the first to congratulate?“, the older man looked at her with an amusing look on his face. „Martin, as much as I love you, you are hopefully not the first person to wish me a happy birthday“, she looked at him with a serious face.

„Did Max congratulate yet?“, a challenging look on Martins face, he pointed at the camera and said: „Remember, this is a livestream.“, Max‘ cheeks turned a pretty pink colour and y/n gasped. „He did not!“, she gasped. „Max, you didn’t wish me a happy birthday?!“ - „I’m sorry, schat darling. Happy birthday, my dear.“

But how could she hold a grudge against a face that looked like Sid from Ice Age?

Fernando was the next person she saw, and he instantly grinned at her. „Oh Nando, do you know whose special day it is today?“, she singsang to the oldest driver on the grid. „Hmm, let me guess, is it Roscoes?“, he laughed as he saw her shocked face. „How could you, I thought we were friends?“ - „We are, we are, cariño darling. Feliz cumpleaños happy birthday, y/n.“

„How old are you now, 5?“, he laughed at her. „Har har, very funny Nando. How old are you turning this year, 60?“ She was always getting irritated fast. He grabbed her by her hip and pushed her into a side hug of his. „Don’t ever change, cariño.“

„Don’t have a plan for that, who’d change something as fabulous like this“, her hands were pointing to herself. „But on a serious note, Nando, do you know where Lewis is? I’ve been searching for him.“ Fernando only shook his head, he didn’t know where the British driver was. He rubbed over her hair as she left his side to search for her mentor.

„Oh Lewis! Your favourite person is looking for you“, she shouted over the paddock, with no luck. She didn’t even see a trace of Lew, none. But what she did find, was a monegasque driver with the number 16 and a spaniard driving under the number 55. They were arguing over some bullshit, as always, as they spotted her. „y/n! Over here“, Charles shouted over to her and waved his hand. She ran over to them and greeted the older drivers with a side hug. Carlos quickly kissed her head as he wished her a brilliant birthday. Charles even sang the first to lines of the song.

She was a bit embarrassed, but she enjoyed the attention of the two Ferrari drivers. „I love you guys, but have you seen Lewis?“, she smiled at the two as they rolled their eyes. She just wanted to see her favourite person on the paddock. She loved them all equally, but you couldn’t deny that Lewis definitely was her favourite. „I think I saw him at Mercedes, his motorhome“, Charles told her, she totally missed the sarcastic undertone of his and just skipped along to the Mercedes garage.

Before she even set a foot in the motorhome, Toto Wolff approached her and squished her into a hug. „Alles gute zum Geburtstag, liebes! Happy birthday, darling! How are you, so happy to see you“, he whispered into her ear. She loved Toto. „Hi Toto!“, she grinned up at him, „I’m good, thank you. Do you know where Lewis is?“ Toto laughed and pointed to his drivers room. „Thanks!“, she yelled as she took off.

She hasn’t been to her own motorhome, just wandering around the paddock and taking in all the attention from the others. And as she knocked on the door, she knew she’d receive the best attention of them all.

„It’s open“, she heard and busted into the tiny room. „Hello, your favourite human on this planet has arrived and will be gracing your presence from now on!“ She grinned at him and he only laughed and embraced the girl. „I have a present for the birthday girl? do you know where she is“, he joked and turned around to grab her present. „A present? Aw Lewis, you shouldn’t have, you totally should have.“

The present contained some gag gifts, such as a Mercedes hat and shirt, or some shirts with funny pattern on it. But the original present was a necklace. It wasn’t anything special, really. It was a simple silver necklace with a tiny turtle as a pendant. Her eyes were tearing up, so she quickly wiped them away.

„Is this one of the necklaces that makes you a godparent of a sea turtle?“ - „It sure is, have fun with“ he turned the pendant around and looked at the engraving on it „Yertle. He is now your godchild“, he smiled at her and motioned to y/n to turn around, so he could put the necklace on. „Thank you so much, it means a lot“, she hugged him as a thank you. He smiled at her, he adored the young driver and was grateful that he was apart of her journey.

„Thank you, love you Lewis!“, she yelled to him as she sprinted out of the motorhome. She was finally headed to her own garage. They had planned a surprise party for her and Lewis was the distraction. As she reached her motorhome, she didn’t see anyone. „Hello, is it not race day?“, she joked into the dark.

„Happy birthday, y/n!“

She jumped, her heart was racing, but she had a giant smile on her face. Her heart, once again, was full, full with love.

„Ahh, thank you guys!“, she squealed and sprinted into the engineers and mechanics, just like she won a race, which she hasn’t, by the way. She hugged all of them, thanked all and smiled the biggest smile she ever smiled. „I’m so grateful for all of you! And now, let’s win this race!“

She didn’t win, but was one of her best birthdays so far. And the after party was her personal highlight of the day. There was a huge pile of presents, just for her of course.

Lando was the DJ, Max was standing on a table, preparing to do a toast for her and Danny was laughing and pointing his camera at everybody.

The evening was definitely something she’d remember, maybe not Max‘ toast, as it was very embarrassing;

„Dear people, we have gathered here to celebrate not only my win, but also a birthday of some special person. She is not our girlfriend, which we are all happy about, but they’re all jealous of her, y/n! Happy birthday, you beast, come up here!“

The alcohol definitely made it more bearable, but the fact that Pierre had to drag you to Mac spoke for itself.

„Pierre, let me be, go back to your boyfriend“, she spoke harshly to the French man, but he ignored her with a smirk on his face and brought her up to Max.

„Ladys and gents, the birthday girl herself!“

It was one of the better party’s she attended and when she looked at all the posts she’s been tagged, she found one particular that she liked the most.

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yninsta, charles_leclerc and 473’827 others

daniel3.jpg happy birthday to my personal favourite female driver of all time! let’s raise a glass or two, to all the things i’ve lost on you ;)

View all 4638 comments

yninsta i am the only female driver…

landonorris that’s why your his fav

yninsta rude af

daniel3.jpg don’t fight kids

charles_leclerc happy birthday y/n!

carlossainz55 yeah, feliz compleaños to our fav girl

pierregasly liked by pierre gasly

f1girly we love all the drivers in the comments, y/n is definitely the paddock princess

likedbypear oh yes, idk if i want to be her or with her

yninsta be definitely with me, c’mon

neymarjr happy birthday y/n!

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21

[littlepuppers]

Scenario for your consideration. Lmk how it makes you feel!

So, I would marry you and make you my wife (I’m 25, so not that unusual). We have house together. We have a family together. A son or two, a dog or two. Maybe a daughter. Happy family Extreme right? 😂 But that’s just where the fun starts.

You would be what I like to call an extreme shared wife. What does that mean? Dw, I’ll explain. Basically within the walls of our house (well, I’d also include our deck and backyard), you would only be allowed to wear a bra and underwear. Lingerie if you have to dress up for guests we may have over unless I tell you otherwise cuz I don’t want them to have access to you (what I mean by access will make sense in a bit). But day to day you can still just wear whatever pair you find comfortable bc I’m nice like that.. While you’re like this (aka don’t have a proper shirt/pants/dress/skirt/etc on) you’re basically free use for anyone in our home - and I mean anyone. Me, our guest we have over, our offspring, and yes, even our dogs 😈 Now does the extreme make sense?

Now obviously you don’t get a say in whether or not you get used - thats ultimately up to the discretion of the user (assuming I have allowed it). Now I would allow you to make requests, either to be used or to not be used at all given time and place. But remember they are requests - it is not a guarantee that they will be acknowledged and complied with (though I will say you should have a pretty good chance of being listened to if your request is to be used 😂

Couple caveats (AKA some powers I reserve for myself). I decide what holes people can use. The only refusals that you can demand is for example I allow someone to use your asshole but not your pussy, and they try to sneak it in, you can refuse (and you must even if you want it). General rules for this: I can use whatever. Family members (notice I didn’t just say our offspring 😈) can only use your asshole. Guests rules will be made depending on who they are. Some may only have looking privileges. Others may be able to request handjobs, and others may have more. Some may not have any privileges. I will the one who decides. Dogs can be hard to control, so they can use either of your two bottom holes (I have to kiss that mouth after all). Special rules may be applied (for example, on a son’s bday from age 18 and on, they may creampie you)

Let me know if you think it’s hot, and I’ll message you with the emoji that I send alone in a second ask right after I send this ask (so you know it’s actually me)!

hmmmm okis :33 i would hesitantly agree because im nervous about being used a lot like thatttt🥺its gonna hurt and i would walk around while cum would be leaking out of me all the time

[fluentmoviequoter]

Just a Dog Walker

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x grad student!dog walker!fem!reader

Summary: As Tim's dog walker, and nothing more, you grow close to him and Kojo. After protecting Kojo from a dog fight, you learn how Tim really sees you.

Warnings: dog attack, dog bite (r), fluffy ending. (Kojo is totally fine!)

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: More Kojo, what the world really needs.

“Sergeant Bradford, come to my office for a minute?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers quickly. “Uh, sorry. No, sir, I can’t.”

Crossing his arms, Wade inquires, “Why not?”

A low huff is audible in Tim’s office, but Wade knows it isn’t him.

“Is yo’ dog under that desk?”

“No.”

“Let me amend the question. Is Kojo under the desk?”

Kojo barks happily, trying to push past Tim to visit Wade. Wade shakes his head, dropping his arms.

“Why is he here?”

“I’m working a double and I couldn’t leave him at home. What if he had run out of water or needed to go out?” Tim answers.

“You know, here in sunny Los Angeles, there are more people than I can count who are certified dog sitters.”

“Kojo doesn’t like strangers.”

“Just Kojo? Look, Tim, I get it, the bond between a man and his dog. But, there has to be a boundary, a separation somewhere. I’ll call Luna, she’s got friends with dogs and trusted, bonded employees who watch their dogs. Walk ‘em daily, train ‘em, do everything while you’re at work.”

“I can take care of my dog by myself.”

“Not while you’re at work, Bradford. He can stay for now, Lord knows he’s a better boy than you, but by the end of the week I want to know you’ve got someone to care for him.”

Tim grumbles, pushing his hands under the desk to pet Kojo. “I’ll take you up on Luna’s friends then.”

“She’ll call later.”

“You already asked her?”

“’Course I did. We have work to do. And, so you know, we can see Kojo’s paws under the desk. But nice try.”

“I tried, buddy,” Tim tells Kojo, passing him a treat from the container hidden in his desk drawer.

✯✯✯✯✯

Grad school is expensive, but since you don’t have the degree level you are striving for, you need a different job to get you through. Pushing 30 and being a dog walker isn’t ideal, but it’s paying the bills. One of your neighbors helped you open a business with proper insurance and licensing to care for the dogs of Los Angeles. 

Most of your clients live nearby, and you do your rounds twice daily, studying and attending classes between. One of your favorite clients has a friend named Luna, who you love. She gets you jobs, helps you out constantly, and is like a mother figure to you. You are forever grateful for her. So, when she calls, you rush to answer.

“Hey, Luna!” you answer. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you doing? Still working on your dissertation; making progress?”

“Slow but steady, yeah. What can I do for you?”

“This is actually something I can do for you. There’s a sergeant that works with Wade; he’s got a dog and needs someone trusted to take care of his dog while he’s at work. He’s been sneaking Kojo into the station and Wade had to ask him to stop.”

“Kojo? That’s an adorable name. But, yeah, I’d be happy to meet him.”

“Awesome! His name’s Tim. I will send him your number and have Wade force him to set something up.”

“Is Tim a little rough around the edges, typical cop type?”

“Not typical, no… Just- you’ll see when you meet him. He’s great, though, deep down.”

“I’ll try to remember that. Thanks, Luna.”

“See you Friday?”

“See you Friday.”

You sit back, writing the name ‘Tim’ on your dog-walking calendar. Another client would be great for your wallet, but it seems like this sergeant will take some convincing before he hires you. This is understandable, of course, because you wouldn’t let just anyone take care of your babies, and dogs are just four-legged babies. 

“Please be as great as Luna said,” you whisper before returning your attention to the research before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Yeah, I texted her. We’re meeting at an outdoor café tonight,” Tim says before Wade can ask. “But if I don’t like her or if Kojo doesn’t like her, I’m going to keep looking.”

“Got it,” Wade answers. “But you’ve got more double shifts in your future, so don’t take too long trying to find a ‘perfect’ dog walker.”

Tim nods, hoping he can find a way out of letting a stranger into his house to take care of his dog. He checked your name, and your business seems legitimate, but there’s no way of knowing. Luckily, he and Kojo are both excellent judges of character.

✯✯✯✯✯

Luna sent you a picture of Kojo, and you spot him immediately. The man sitting beside him, though, is breathtakingly handsome. You’re shocked that he doesn’t have female neighbors and friends lining up at his door, offering to take care of Kojo (and him). 

“Hi, Mr. Bradford?” you ask.

Kojo looks up at you and pants, his tail slapping against Tim’s leg.

“Yes. Nice to meet you,” Tim replies, offering his hand.

Shaking his hand, you glance down at Kojo. When Tim releases his grip, you squat and extend your hand for Kojo to sniff. He flips your hand up with his snout, stepping closer to you.

“I’m sure Luna told you that I’m a cop,” Tim continues, drawing your attention away from Kojo.

You sit beside him, lowering a hand to pat Kojo’s head. “She did, sir.”

“Then you know that if anything were to happen to my house during or after your visit, I could very easily charge you with any number of crimes. And I won’t tell you what I would do if something happened to Kojo while under your care.”

You can’t tell if his threat is legitimate, so you nod in understanding.

“Yes, sir, I understand. Kojo’s safety, and your home, of course, are of the utmost importance and I will do everything I can to do right by both of you.”

Tim nods, watching Kojo for a moment. “You’re good with him. He’s not always so welcoming with strangers; scared one of my girlfriends away once. So, I’m going to give you a chance.”

“Amazing. Thank you, sir. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“What do we need to do to get started?”

“I can offer you a few days free, as a trial run. And if you still want to keep me on afterward, we can discuss payment, sir.”

“That’s unnecessary. I need someone to take care of Kojo and you seem to be the best fit.”

“Okay. Then I will email you a link to create a client account and my website has a portal to pay. Luna mentioned that you work overnight sometimes, so if you needed me to do later or earlier visits, I can do that too, sir.”

“Sounds good.”

Tim stands, wiping his hand on his jeans before offering his hand again.

“Nice to meet you and I look forward to your email.”

“You, too. And thank you.”

Petting Kojo once more, you smile before walking away. You didn’t expect him to be so attractive, so you have to remember that he clarified you’re his dogwalker, and he doesn’t even really want a dogwalker.

Determined to make him see the benefits of someone caring for Kojo, you add him to your schedule before he even pays you. Money is no longer a concern; you’re already in love with Kojo, and now, you need to focus on not falling for his owner, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’d you think about her? I know you hired her, but what’d you think personally?” Luna asks, standing in Wade’s office.

Tim shrugs. “She’s very polite. Seems driven, hard-working, responsible.”

“Well, now that you’ve read her resumé, have anything else to add?”

Tim doesn’t answer, and Wade guesses, “She makes you nervous?”

“A little.”

“What?” Luna exclaims. “She’s the sweetest!”

“Not like that, Luna,” Wade interjects. “Someone wasn’t expecting a pretty dog walker.”

“Oh. Tim Bradford, I wasn’t sure you still had it in you.”

“She is taking care of Kojo. Yes, she is beautiful, but this won’t go any farther than a business agreement.”

“Care to bet on that?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers before leaving and closing the door behind him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Kojo, Kojo,” you call, entering Tim’s house with the key he had made for you.

Kojo’s nails click on the flooring, rushing to greet you.

“Hey, buddy. You miss your dad? I bet you do.”

As you slide Kojo’s harness over his front legs, he licks your face, and you laugh, scratching his chest before standing to connect his leash. Kojo has quickly become your favorite dog. You visit several throughout the day, but Kojo is the sweetest and the most handsome.

When you return to Tim’s side door, it’s standing open. You know that you closed and locked it, so you pull Kojo’s leash tight, stepping back as you prepare to run.

“It’s just me!” Tim yells from inside. “Sorry, my hands were full, and I couldn’t close the door.”

Sighing in relief, you lead Kojo inside, closing the door behind you and locking it instinctually.

“Honey, we’re home!” you call.

Tim freezes in the kitchen at your teasing, borderline flirtatious tone. You remove Kojo’s leash and harness and put it away, following him as he runs toward Tim.

“Why are you home so early?” you ask.

“I worked all night,” Tim answers. “Thought you’d feel my absence through our connection.”

You chuckle at Tim’s flirting. After the second meeting, it became much easier to talk to him. Interestingly enough, Tim started the flirtatious tendencies. You tend to stick to business-related topics, but sometimes it feels like you’re just two friends – maybe more – and you forget you’re just his dog walker.

“Everything go okay at work, sir? Kojo, for one, had a great day.”

Tim says your name, a sigh more than anything. “I told you a week ago to stop calling me sir.”

“Sorry, sir- Tim.”

Tim looks away suddenly, turning his attention to the bags he carried inside while you were walking Kojo.

“Did you even wonder where Kojo was?” you ask.

“No. I know his dog walker is punctual… and a control freak.”

“Planning my day doesn’t make me a control freak!”

“You have it planned to the minute.”

“To accommodate you,” you grumble.

“Yet you won’t let me take you on a date.”

“You won’t ask.”

You fall silent, and when you think you took it too far, Kojo barks and makes you both laugh. Talking to Tim is easy, but no matter how much you love Kojo or think you could be more, you must keep everything in perspective. Tim is older, a police sergeant, and you are his college student dog walker.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hello?” you ask, answering your phone and rubbing your eyes as you look away from the computer screen.

“Hey,” Tim says. “I’m so sorry for the late notice but I’m going to be here overnight. Could you-“

“I’ll go over now.”

“Listen, it’s crazy out there right now. If you want to stay there, please do. I don’t want you out more than you have to be.”

“Tim, that’s not necessary.”

“Please. It’s not just for your safety; I’ll feel better knowing that you’re somewhere safe.”

“Okay,” you reply. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m insisting. Kojo is a cuddler, but that’s all you have to fear there.”

“Oh, you should have started with that. Kojo cuddles sound amazing.”

“Long day?”

“Not as long as yours. I’ll text you when I get there. Thank you, Tim.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“See you then.”

The drive to Tim’s house is short, but you hear several police sirens. Whatever they’re dealing with does seem (as Tim put it) crazy. Once you’re inside and the alarm is reset, you collapse on the couch and let Kojo cuddle up to you. You feel weirdly close to Tim, too, probably from being in his house. Falling asleep here is easy; you’re at peace, happy, and cuddled by a warm, loving dog.

✯✯✯✯✯

Waking up is not quite as peaceful. Tim is taking a picture, and when you grunt, he lowers the phone and smiles.

“That’s adorable,” he states.

“I’m quitting,” you murmur, throwing an arm over Kojo.

“You know, he didn’t even come see me when I got home? He’s a cheater, although I can’t blame him. It does look pretty comfortable.”

Ignoring him, you move closer to Kojo.

“Consider this my two hours’ notice.”

Tim chuckles, and the couch dips by your feet as he sits. When you sit up, he’s leaning back with his eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your way so you can rest. Need me to come back later?”

“No, I’m here all day. If you want to stay, you can.”

“I have a paper to finish,” you lament. “But I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” You’re gathering your things when Tim reiterates, “Seriously. You’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Drive safe.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s cloudy in Los Angeles, like a bad omen. So, you’re seriously considering taking Tim’s previous offer of staying at his house to work. Kojo is the last dog you visit, and you look down at him as he sniffs the base of a streetlight.

“Mind if I stay with you for the rest of the day?” you ask him.

Kojo’s tail wags faster, but he’s still more interested in the light than you.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Kojo picks his head up, continuing toward the corner as you lead him down the sidewalk. You see something move up the road and command Kojo to stop. Unsure if it’s a dog or some other animal, you wait a moment before walking again.

With your attention on the unknown shadow before you, you fail to hear a dog running up behind you. Kojo turns suddenly, and you don’t register what’s happening as you push him out of the way.

Another dog, about Kojo’s size, with no leash or owner in sight, is on top of you. Kojo is barking, trying to help, but you yell at him to stay back.

“Kojo, sit!” you yell over the other dog’s growling.

Your yell turns to a cry of pain when the dog’s jaw clamps down on your arm, his claws digging into your side.

“Get off!” you yell, your adrenaline giving you the strength to push back. 

Once you’re sitting up, you use your legs to free yourself from the dog’s grip. Kojo is behind you, unharmed, and you need to keep it that way. Flipping yourself on top of the dog, it releases your arm before moving its legs wildly, raking a paw across your face as it tries to move away.

“Go!” you yell harshly, moving enough to let it up.

Stomping your foot after it, you show the dog you’re in charge and wait in front of Kojo until it’s out of sight.

“Kojo, we have to go,” you say quickly, grabbing his leash and limping behind him as he leads you home.

Kojo focuses on getting you inside, and when you close the door and fall to the floor, he moves to your side. He whimpers, and you want to comfort him, but you are growing dizzy.

“You okay, boy?” you mumble.

You scream in pain when you raise your hand to check that Kojo is okay. After dropping your arm, your breathing grows shallow as tears stream down your face. Kojo whines again, and you want to reach for your phone, but your arms feel too heavy to move. Looking down, you suddenly realize the severity of what happened. Covered in blood and with no strength to call for help, you whisper an apology to Kojo and let your eyes drift close.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim sighs as he turns onto his street. He’s ready to see Kojo and, if he’s lucky, you. When Tim sees your car in the driveway, he smiles and rushes toward the door. That happiness quickly disappears when he notices the trail of blood leading up the driveway. Walking to the sidewalk, he sees that it leads nearly to the corner. Racing to the backdoor, which has a large blood smear below a clear handprint, Tim keeps a hand on his gun as he unlocks the door.

Kojo’s whimpering greets Tim, and when he looks down, he sees that Kojo has blood on him. Kojo looks over quickly, and Tim follows his movement. Whatever fear he felt when he saw the blood on Kojo is multiplied when he sees you.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Tim calls for an ambulance before kneeling beside you.

“Is Kojo okay?” you ask weakly.

“He’s okay,” Tim promises, leaning closer in a poor attempt to find the source of your blood. “What hurts?”

“What doesn’t? Did you check on Kojo? He seemed okay but I couldn’t make sure the blood was mine.”

Tim turns, running his hands all over Kojo. The blood is only on his fur, evidently not his.

“He’s fine,” Tim repeats, his voice breaking at the end. “You are not.”

“There was a dog free running and I- I didn’t see it. Kojo stayed behind me so I need him to be okay.”

Tears are running down your face again, mixing with the blood. Tim wants to wipe them away, but the clear claw mark over your cheek deters him.

“There’s an ambulance on the way, you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. Just stay awake.”

“Kojo- Kojo’s a good boy,” you mumble.

“He is. Can you please keep your eyes on me? The ambulance is almost here.”

You nod, and the last thing you remember is Tim’s apologetic look and a painful pressure on your side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim, are you coming with?” Bailey asks.

Tim stares at the bloodstain on his floor and up his wall rather than looking toward her. “I’ll be there soon.”

“We’ll keep you updated. She’ll be okay.”

Tim nods and waits for the EMTs to exit the house before he begins cleaning. He scrubs until every trace of your blood is erased from inside and on the door. After animal control captured the dog, several officers went out to find the dog's owner. Nolan promised to come by and clean the driveway, so Tim concentrated his efforts inside.

“Alright, Kojo, our turn,” Tim calls, letting Kojo into the bathroom to remove the blood from his fur. 

After Tim cleans Kojo and himself and throws away the blood-stained rags and cleaning supplies, he gathers his things to visit you in the hospital.

“I’ll be back with our girl,” Tim promises Kojo as he leaves.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m sorry.” You can’t stop the apology when Tim walks in.

“Stop apologizing. You kept that dog away from Kojo and I don’t- I can’t lose you. I walked in and you were covered in blood… I should have told you before that I care about you.”

“It’s my job to take care of Kojo,” you whisper.

Tim moves to the side of the bed, gently taking your hand. “You are not just a dog walker. I’ve been falling for you since the moment I laid eyes on you. The fact that you love Kojo solidified it for me.”

“I- I have feelings for you too,” you admit.

“They told me your pretty face won’t scar.”

“I barely even remember what happened.”

Tim sits beside your legs as he tells you, “Nolan and Celina arrested the dog’s owner. It wasn’t the first time he had done this.”

“Given a poor, unsuspecting college student thirty stitches while she’s just trying to spend the afternoon in her crush’s house? Oddly specific crime. What’s the code for that?”

Tim chuckles, gently squeezing your hand. “You can go home now. If you’re still up to spend some time in your crush’s house.”

“Tim-“

“Don’t tell me I don’t have to. I want to, need to.”

“I would love to spend time with you and Kojo. But I’m not sure I’m up for flirting today, handsome.”

“After the day you’ve had, just sit back and I’ll do all the flirting.”

“’Preciate that, sir.”

Tim laughs as he exits the room to complete your discharge paperwork. You smile behind him, hoping you’re not dreaming, and you finally told him how you feel.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo,” Tim chides. “Give her some room.”

“You cleaned all the blood?”

Tim gently directs your eyes to him, leaning close to remind you, “You’re more than just a dog walker. Worth the time, the effort, the love, all of it.”

“Love?”

“Yeah. Kojo really loves you.”

You laugh, quickly remembering that you have several stitches on your side.

“Careful,” Tim requests.

“Are you certified to help someone sit still while stitches hold their side closed?” you ask.

“Depends on the patient. You? Absolutely.”

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch before walking to the kitchen to gather some water and snacks. When he returns, Kojo is cuddled up to your uninjured side.

“Really? Again?” Tim asks.

“I love you,” you say, completely distracting Tim as he kneels before you. “But I also think I really want to quit this time.”

Tim laughs, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “That’s fine. I am looking for a girlfriend rather than a dog walker now anyway.”

“Care to see my resumé?”

“Memorized it last time.”

[raccoonface]

“Oh God!”

______________————————_____________

Warnings- language, ehhh idk about anything else

Summary-Cairo is in a heated rivalry with Y/n.. or at least she thinks so

————————______________———————-

______________————————_____________

Y/n POV

I have a love-hate relationship with school. I’m good at it but I hate having to spend my entire day at this place where I’m constantly being surrounded by imbeciles.

We are coming back from spring break and we have new classes to attend I have a new class called creative writing I’ve heard people talking about it I just was never interested in writing.

I have about 36 hours before school starts and I’m trying to figure out who’s gonna be in my class I can’t seem to find any of my friends on the list

I’ve been thinking about what new classes my friend CC had gotten, So I called her. It took me about two tries for her to pick up the phone

“Whaaatttt”

“Wooow CC didn’t know you were so bothered to hear from me”

“Yes I am so hurry up before my mom yells at me to take the dog out”

“Ok, ok I just wanted to know what new classes you got”

“Well my mom forced me to do a creative class so I chose either Piano or Creative writing, and I really wanted Piano but apparently not because I got creative writing”

“Phew”

“What are you ‘phew’ing about..?”

“I couldn’t find anyone with the same class as me and I was starting to get worried”

“Wow Y/n I was one of your last go-to’s that’s crazy”

“Shut up CC”

“Anyways I probably have- CC GET OUT HERE AND TAKE OUT THE DOG- ok I really have to go now bye-“

“Bye-“

Anddd, she hung up on me, as usual, but I can’t really blame her for having a mom like hers and I am so glad I finally found someone with the same class as me I was so scared I would have to do it alone.

But before I do anything else I should probably go out to eat before I starve to death, and there’s this new place I’ve been wanting to try for a while now and right now’s the perfect excuse.

I just had to find the place.. I knew it was some sort of bar/restaurant type thing I just couldn’t remember the name.

———————————————————————

I ended up finding a place which I’m sure is the right one but it doesn’t have any sort of sign or name on it.

It’s a little secluded which hopefully means it won’t be as packed, especially around this time of day. I decided to come here for a late lunch or some sort of early dinner.

Their menu was really appealing I had to hold myself back from getting everything but what was really appetizing was probably the good old (whatever food you want cuz I don’t know what to choose).

“Hello there may I take your order?” At least I know now that the people are nice here

“Oh uhm yeah sorry. I’d like the (food)” jeez I’m awkward

“Alright would that be all”

“Yeah thank you”

“No problem ma’am I’m just doing my job” of course like every waitress is supposed to

“Right.”

“I feel like I know you from somewhere” I hope not..

“Maybe..?” I have no idea..

“Holy shit you’re Y/n L/n right?” Surprise? I guess..? I don’t recognize her

“Uhhhh…. Yeah? Do I know you?”

“No but my friend knows of you and she hates your guts. She thinks of you as her school rival or something.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me right…?” There’s no way…

“No ma’am but I should probably get your order to the kitchen”

“Oh… yeah probably”

“Yeah talk to you later”

That was weird… I don’t know how her friend would know me though I would think I’m pretty quiet in school. I don’t even know who I was talking to.

————————______________———————-

Here’s a start to the Cairo series I was talking about.

Sorry for taking an unexpected absence for a month there’s a lot going on with my life rn but I’m getting back into working on my fics.

Expect more soon!

[meshiinuma]

pool day

relationship: poly sashisu x reader

desc: it's your mission to keep your lifeguard date mates company while they perform their duties at the pool

wrd cnt: 3.6k

warnings: gn reader, fluff !!, thats it !!!

a(shley's)/n: this is mostly 4 me bcuz i got my nostril pierced n now i CANT GO UNDERWATER . I ONLY WENT 2 THE POOL ONCE THIS SUMMER AUGHHHHH and i bought some rlly cute swimsuits 2 :[[[ sighhhhh ill resign myself 2 being above water i suppose also the song suguru is humming later is paikea by patea maori club

‘fwee!’

at the sound of the sharp whistle of the lifeguard, you stop.

“no running.” she calls out to you, smugness tinging her tone.

you look up to see shoko sitting at the top of the tall lifeguard chair. she has her sunglasses low on the bridge of her nose, staring you down with a salacious look in her deep dark brown eyes.

“and no food by the pool.” with a pout, you lean on one of the white bases of the high chair and suck at your blue raspberry popsicle.

“this is a dictatorship.” you finally say after slurping out enough flavor to satisfy you for the time being.

“shame.” shoko pulls off her sunglasses and gets a good look at you from your spot underneath the huge red shade attached to the back of her chair, her blindingly white shirt dulled underneath the shadow. if you looked close enough, you could see her black bikini bottoms peeking out.

she tucks some of her hair behind her ear, you thought it was growing out quite nicely. you didn’t say that though. you actually just chomped off the discolored part of the popsicle, pure ice melting on your tongue.

sigh “i don’t know why all three of you decided to sign up for lifeguarding, now i’m all alone, burning. slowly infecting myself with skin cancer…!” your girlfriend chuckles at your dramatic declaration. 

“you know we need some cash, just surviving off of satoru’s trust fund isn’t enough. plus, you have your own job.” shoko reasons, her attention slipping from you briefly so she could switch off her water proof alarm, beeping to remind her to switch out guard posts.

“that pays more too…” you mumbled and licked up a stray droplet about to fall onto the concrete. out of the corner of your eye, you see shoko stop for a moment and stare at the pink muscle work it’s way up the rocket-shaped dessert.

to suck more sugar out of the ice, you take the popsicle fully into your mouth and slowly pull it out with a pop.

by now, shoko was down from her post and smacked you lightly on the shoulder, “in public?” judging by her grin and the little flush across her cheeks, she didn’t care.

“as if you, satoru, and suguru don’t do worse, hm?” you leaned forward with a teasing grin, close enough to give her a little peck with your blue stained lips.

she giggled at the ticklish feeling of your lips brushing against her soft cheek and pushed you away when you bit into it lightly, “okay, okay. there’s kids around, you know that?” she drawls, but still gives you a kiss and nip on your bottom lip back.

the two of you are interrupted by two pairs of feet leisurely strolling down the side of the pool, one voice greeting you and your girlfriend loudly.

you look up to see the last half to your heart approaching, one in a lifeguard tank top and the other shirtless, both have bright red swim trunks on.

“hi baby! hi my darling shoko!” satoru jogs up and gives you a wet kiss on your lips, more spit than lip action. he repeats the action with his girlfriend. she splutters and gently shoves him away.

“you’re like a dog, slobbering everywhere…” shoko leans up to peck him on the forehead, cradling his head like she did yours.

suguru comes up behind satoru and leans over him to give you a kiss on the cheek, deciding to save his more overt affection for later.

once shoko and satoru separate, suguru leans over shoko and gives her a kiss on the top of her head. she reciprocates with a kiss to his jaw while satoru bounds up the lifeguard chair and settles into place with his rescue tube.

when they pulled away, you admired the way they stared at each other. the love they had was palpable. you smiled involuntarily and licked at your popsicle.

they pulled apart when the manager of the pool speed walked by with a bark of an order, “ieiri! to your station! geto! back to making rounds around the pool!” 

there was always something bothering him. shoko just rolled her eyes and waved goodbye to her partners, leisurely walking to her next lifeguard post at a farther end of the pool.

satoru brushed your shoulder closest to him with the end of his crocs, “hey.” you looked up to see his own sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, a silly grin on his face, “can’t eat near the pool.” just like a little puppy dog, he tilted his head to the side and let out a huff of air like a laugh.

in response, you stared up at him with sultry eyes as you tossed whatever was left of the popsicle around your tongue. when you bit of the last of the ice, you slowly pulled the stick while maintaining eye contact.

satoru’s face turned red and his beautiful ocean blues widened. he whipped his head to the side and mumbled, “shut up…” you giggled and slapped his exposed calf, moving towards suguru.

internally, you were giggling and screaming and kicking your legs. suguru was just the type to make anyone shy and flustered, even if he was a big softie on the inside. outwardly, you were coy and sly, “hey, big boy.” at your approach, suguru cupped his hand on the side of your head and granted you the privilege of one of his soft lipped smiles.

“hi,” he fiddled with some of your hair, then perked up.

“oh!” he leaned down to the white plumeria bushes lining the pool fence and plucked one with a long stem. your boyfriend turned back to you, still waiting patiently, and slipped it behind your left ear. after he secured it, he kissed the shell of your left ear, “thought of you after i saw them.” suguru whispered, sending giddy shivers down your spine at the thought of taking up space in someone’s mind.

when he pulled away, a lovely grin split your face almost in two and you bashfully looked away, carefully cupping the flower decorating your ear.

“wh-hey!” you and suguru turned to satoru, who had a grumpy look on his face at the affection you were receiving.

“aw, do you want one too satoru?” before he could answer, you were already making your way towards the bushels of flowers.

your fingers danced around tons of white petaled, yellow centered flowers until you found the one with the brightest center. just like your sun.

you plucked it happily, with ample room on the stem so you could tuck it behind his left ear, and bounded over to the lifeguard chair he was sat at.

“i have something for you!” you singsonged, holding the pretty flower behind your back.

satoru gasped as if he didn’t just watch you pluck from the flower bushes, “for me? i couldn’t possibly imagine what it could be!”

shyly, you stepped up to the first step of the chair and held out the flower. like a dog offering something for its beloved owner.

your other boyfriends hands cupped the petals, making sure not to crumple them, “oh…thank you baby…” he looked up at you, love and adoration crowding his eyes, “i love it,” and he moved to take it from you, but you slipped it away at the last second, “nuh-uh! I’ll put it on for you, then i know it’ll look perfect. a perfect flower for my perfect baby.” 

bright red exploded across the pale cheeks of your boyfriend as you stuck the wooden popsicle stick in your mouth and gently turned his head so you could slip the flower behind his left ear, “i’m your perfect baby?” he asked.

when you finished, you turned his head back to you to get a good look at him, “my most perfect, most loveliest, smartest baby.”

satoru looked beautiful.

he does everyday, but the delicate flower added a more gentle touch to him. something that distanced him from the cold winter beauty he was born with. made him more suited for the bright blue of the pool in the full swing of summer.

you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, “you’re so beautiful satoru.” you spoke around the stick in your mouth. suguru came up next to you and leaned on the side of the chair, looking up at satoru with reverence shining in his fox eyes.

“you really are beautiful…” he trailed off and satoru got flustered all over again, jutting his wet pink bottom lip out with a shy smile.

“thanks…” your white haired lover turned back to you and suguru, something more down to earth twisting his lips up, “you guys are pretty beautiful too, even more than me.” he chuckled as you ruffled the top of his head (careful not to jostle the plumeria out).

“alright you charmer, weaseling your way into our hearts,” you smacked his bare pec and got down from the chair, going back to the flowers blooming and making the whole area smell so sweet, yet spicy with undertones of cinnamon.

another flower made it’s way into your hands, but this one was a bright blush pink with a spot of yellow in the middle. 

suguru’s intense. he burns with love and care for everything that could ever be cared about. passionate. he craves happiness on the inside. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been pursuing joy to complete him. you hope he feels complete around you, satoru, and shoko.

“turn around and crouch down a little.” suguru follows obediently with a hum and lets you part his bun so you could safely tuck the little flower into his top knot. when done, you move his hair out of the way so you could peck the nape of his neck.

at the brush of your lips against him, he shudders and jerks away with a chuckle, “alright, calm down, you can do that later.” you just rolled your eyes.

when looking at suguru head on, the little bit of intense pink poked out behind him. it just added more to his thin and refined features, crafted with light and precise strokes of a brush.

your thumb reached up to swipe at a droplet of sweat starting to run down his forehead, “have you been putting sunscreen on?” your head whipped around to satoru, “both of you?” 

“sir yes sir!” satoru saluted while you and suguru chuckled. satoru has sensitive skin that burns easy, and his refusal to put a shirt on only heightens the chances of him coming home peeling and burnt to a crisp. suguru needs sunscreen less, but he still cares for the health of his skin. that doesn’t stop him from coming home a few shades darker and having tan lines from his work clothes.

you kissed suguru’s cheek and went over to the lifeguard chair that satoru was at, already waiting with his head ducked.

“good. now i’m gonna go give one to shoko,” you plucked a completely white flower from the bushes and started towards where shoko was seated, “make sure not to slack off!” you called out behind you as you threw away the popsicle stick in a trashcan.

satoru and suguru just waved goodbye to you, sporting mischievous grins.

the stem of the flower twirled between your fingers while your mind wandered off to your girlfriend.

smart shoko. smart, beautiful, trusting, obsessively clean shoko. you sighed wistfully at the memory of her forcing suguru out of the pool last summer after he got his nipples pierced, citing the insane amount of germs floating around in a pool, even if they were sanitized with chlorine. if someone was drowning in front of shoko, you don’t think she’d jump in and get them herself.

your feet slowed once they approached the base of the lifeguard chair, “hello lovely girlfriend of mine.” you cooed, reaching for her hand resting on the armrest of the chair.

“why hello to you too, light of my life, fire of my loins.” her hand went to caress you from the top of your head to the bottom of your chin, “i thought we were in public, sho-ko.” you teased and moved to stand in front of the lifeguard chair.

“sorry babe, just can’t resist myself around you.” she chuckled as you rolled your eyes.

“whatever now get over here, i have something for you.” you stood on the first step of the lifeguard chair, still twirling the plumeria in your hand.

“oh? i’d love to see it.” she drawled, offering her head to you.

judging by her nonchalant reaction, she had seen the interaction between her partners.

with tender hands, you tucked the flower behind her left ear and secured it as best as you could. when you were done, your hand slid down to her jaw and brought her head up to face you.

“you look really good, shoko.” you had to restrain yourself from pouring your heart out, or she’d shrink away (a habit you, satoru, and suguru were trying to break). in reality, she looked more than good. she looked stunning. the pure white flower mellowed her out, adding some contrast to her lightly tanned skin and brunette hair. it complimented her faint freckles too, giving the perfect image of a beautiful island dwelling twenty-something woman who spent all her time by the shore.

but you couldn’t say any of that. you just leaned in and kissed her cheek, “like, really good.” 

she flushed a light pink and tucked her stray hair back, “thanks, you look good too.” you couldn’t hold yourself back, you have the most amazing woman in the world and you weren’t going to waste time saving your words for the right time. you could die tomorrow and shoko would never know how beautiful you think she is.

“pretty girl shoko.” a kiss to her jaw, “smart girl shoko.” a kiss to her forehead, “my most amazing girl shoko.” a kiss to the tip of her nose.

your (future wife) girlfriend giggled and pushed you away lightly, looking away so you wouldn’t see her chill facade break at your insistence to love on her, “okay! okay, i get it…”

“anything interesting happen while i was gone?” you hum and turn shoko back to you as she fans herself with a baseball cap satoru slapped onto her head before they left the house for their shift.

“well,” she swallowed and finally looked back at you, “i watched a bird, like, dive for someone's ice cream and take a whole chunk out of it. it kinda looked like a crow and later i saw this lady with a weird braid surrounded by crows.” you leaned against the armrest of the lifeguard chair as she regaled you with more tales of the pool, “and then i saw these two kids, one of them had pink hair and the other had a bob, push this other kid that looked like a sea urchin-”

“how could you say that about a child shoko!” you gasped dramatically, “this is an injustice to all children in the world!” she just flicked your forehead and continued, undisturbed.

“anyway, they pushed the kid in and when he got out he chased them with his service dogs.”

“did you tell them to stop running?” amusement filled your voice, “nope.” she popped the p and settled back into her chair.

“oh, so you’re just targeting me then? how rude.” your fists went to your hips and she just pushed her (you’re pretty sure those are satoru’s, if you were to judge by the expensive luxury brand on the arm) sunglasses up the bridge of her nose, “yup.” 

before you could retort back, the pool manager passed by and barked out another order, “no distractions ieiri! back to work!” and he speed walked past, yelling at other employees as he went.

shoko rolled her eyes and you sighed, “i’ll see you at lunch, yeah?” and you pecked her on the lips.

“yeah, see ya’.” she said after you pulled away and made your way to the many slides at the pool.

for the next hour, you went down all of the slides twice, did some sick tricks on the diving boards, and raided the snack bar for free popsicles and ice cream bars (through all of this, you placed the plumeria safely in your pool bag. you retrieved it when you got sick of the water and pruney fingers, choosing to stay on land for a bit).

the pool lets lifeguards go for lunch during adult swim, so when they call for everyone under eighteen to get out, you happily make your way to the little cluster of circle benches in the food court.

you spot shoko and satoru in the far corner, shaded by a large tree and having an animated conversation.

as you approach, you start to hear bits and pieces of their conversation and pick up on the agitated tone in shoko’s reply, “dude, it’s not even going to happen there’s zero chance of that, so i have no clue why you think i’m the best person to ask for that answer.” satoru sighs, “it’s a hypothetical question, shoko! it’s not going to happen! but if it did happen i’d have to think about it!”

“what are you thinking about? i didn’t even know you could do that, satoru.” you take a seat at the bench next to shoko. satoru opens his mouth to speak, then stops, “hey…” you waved him off, “what were you talking about, though?”

“if it’s ethical to fuck my clone.”

…

“oh.” you blink at him, “well. hm.” you pause, mulling the question over in your mind, “i think we need suguru for that one.” swiveling your head around, you look for him, “where is he, anyway?”

“in the snack bar.” shoko replies, turning back to satoru to comment on the absurdity of his question as you rise to get your boyfriend.

suguru is standing in front of the soda machine, getting some cola in a to go cup and singing under his breath, “uie mai koia, whakahuatie ake…” but stops when you shove your face into his (actually really sweaty, gross) back and wrap your arms around his waist.

“oh! hi baby,” his big hand goes to hold your arm as you listen to him fill up another cup with soda. you pull away pretty fast once you couldn’t take the face-full of stink coming from his semi-drenched tank top. you didn’t blame him, today was one of the hottest days of the month.

“i’m almost done here, can you get our lunch from the fridge?” like the loving and amazing partner you are, you grab the bright yellow lunch box with tons of zippers, the baby blue and gray square lunch box, and the green tiffin box covered with a dark forest green handkerchief. from the freezer compartment, you grab an ice cream bar for yourself.

when you turn around, you see suguru waiting for you with three to go cups filled with various drinks and one heat insulating thermos in his hands, “got everything?” and he tilts his head in that adorable way that makes his bang swish a little and it fills you with the urge to dote over him and pinch his cheeks.

you push down the urge, “yeah!” and follow him out the door.

suguru places down everyone's drink first and you put down lunch boxes immediately afterwards. shoko’s tiffin, satoru’s box, and suguru’s lunch box that could qualify as a mini satchel.

you sit down afterwards and unwrap your ice cream bar, taking a big bite out of it first thing. shoko opens her tiffin and starts to snack from the top compartment filled with shrimp chips. satoru opens his box and unwraps a soft baked dessert, sinking his teeth into it once it was sufficiently out of its casing. suguru doesn’t unzip his own until he sees everyone has started eating, but as he moves to open his lunch he stops and narrows his eyes at you.

“is that all you’ve been eating today?” he accuses you in the middle of your bite of vanilla goodness.

“yesh.” you reply, mouth full of the cold dessert.

suguru pouts and says your name in the way you would when you’re mildly disappointed in someone, “you have to eat something with actual substance!” he declares as he opens his lunch box fully and pulls out something wrapped.

“well maybe you shouldn’t tell me you guys have too much frozen stuff and then give me the key to the snack bar!” you retort after swallowing.

your boyfriend just rolls his eyes and places a wrapped and square object in front of you, “here. since i know you don’t eat anything that’ll keep you full when you’re here.” you reach across the table to give satoru your ice cream bar (so he can have a bite, at this point it’s become instinctual to give him a little bit of your dessert when he’s around) and unwrap the object.

you gasp at what’s inside.

“a sandwich? for me?” you coo and take a bite of the mediterranean sandwich you saw him prep that morning, you just didn’t know he was making another one for you.

“thank you, sugu!” and you peck him on the cheek for his chivalrous activity.

he just looks away bashfully and opens up his thermos to take a sip from the hot tea he brewed that morning.

happily, you gobble down the sandwich made just for you as conversation leisurely flows through the table. sometimes you pick off one of shoko’s spring rolls, satoru’s oreos, or sips of suguru’s tea. none of them mind, willing to give anything to you. their lover. light of their lives.

you were just content. happy to be covered in chlorine water, eyes stinging a bit, and sating your ravenous hunger. here, with your lovers and the scent of sweet and spicy filling the air.

[lynzishell]

The Past 🩵 Asher

Feeling dehydrated and achy, I wake up to a thin stream of sunlight peeking through the window at just the right angle to blind me when I try to open my eyes. But I don’t mind. I welcome the day with open arms as I stretch my body out, settling onto my back with a smile as I remember the night before.   

Y’know, my biggest fear is drowning, especially in the ocean, and yet, my favorite place is the beach near my parents’ house, sitting right at the water’s edge. Being with Atlas, it reminds me of this place. The bright blue of his eyes, the sandy color of his hair, and the dusting of freckles across his nose. And the way being near him makes me feel just a little nervous, like at any moment I could get swept away and lose myself completely.

I can still feel his lips on mine, soft and sensual. I’ve never been kissed like that before, so slow yet passionate, like he was drinking me in and savoring every bit. My entire body lit up when his tongue found mine, and even now, as I indulge the memory, replaying it again and again, I feel my body respond. Closing my eyes, I bring my hand to my abdomen and slowly slide it downwards. But just as I tuck my fingers under the waistband of my underwear, my phone buzzes behind me, making me jump and pulling me out of the moment.

“Jesus Christ,” I whisper to no one in particular as I reach for my phone. I’m not surprised, but still mildly disappointed that the text is from my sister Iris and not Atlas.

[Iris: Are you coming home this weekend?]

In a lot of ways, my parents’ house will always be ‘home’ to me, but I still feel a prickle of annoyance at her use of the word. Like it’s her way of not wanting to let me go. Eventually, she’s going to have to get used to the fact that I’ve moved out and I’m not moving back. I suppose it will take some time though, especially considering how often I do go back and visit. Not for her. For my dog. I miss him, but as much as I want him here with me, sleeping at the end of my bed, it wouldn’t be fair to take him away from that big house with lots of room to run and stick him in a tiny apartment where he’d be alone all day. It just feels cruel.

I take a moment to mull over her text, unsure how to answer. It seems presumptuous to not want to make any plans this weekend, but if there’s any opportunity to see Atlas at some point, I’d like to. It would be nice to go on a proper date. But I also don’t want to get too ahead of myself. He seems like the type that needs to take things slowly, and I’m not exactly known for being good at that. So, perhaps it’s better if I make other plans for the weekend, if only to keep myself in check.

I flop back on my pillow with a groan and type out my response:

[Yeah, I’ll be there in a few hours.]

But then I delete it.

[Asher: Maybe tomorrow. I’ll let you know.]

What can I say, I’m weak.

However, I do stop myself from sending Atlas a text, so we’ll call it a win. He said he’d call, so I’ll wait for his call.

In the meantime, I decide to get myself up and out of bed. Half the day is already gone and I’m starving.

Prev // Next

[ryuichirou]

with the characters who aren’t beastmen (or mermaids or fae) what sort of beastmen would you think they’d be? like deer silver, hare cater, bird of prey rook, etc. i wanna see y’all’s thoughts because there’s a lot of different possibilities that would fit each character :3c

The possibilities are endless…! Even if you decide to make someone a beastman, there are so many different options, so many kinds of animals. I am getting greedy even just thinking about it, but at the same time I am fighting the urge to say that everyone would be catboys and call it a day. I want to shove all of our bottoms in the cat café and spend all my money there��

I’ll try to keep it together, but also to keep things diverse 💪 But my first pick would be to make everyone catboys lol

I’m skipping beastmen/mermen/fae for now, but technically they could have their own list at some point.

Riddle – a meanie in me wants to say that he is a fae, but not the one that we are used to, but the small fussy one, similar to Tinker Bell lol Imagine this tiny thing being the loudest housewarden? It would be funny… But he would also be very cute as a goldfishie merman, sigh. Ironically, I actually don’t think he is either of these things; I think Riddle would be a beastman. Maybe a hedgehog beastman that people keep confusing with a mouse beastman because his spines aren’t very visible.

Ace – fox beastman, just like Fellow. I feel like this is pretty obvious, but still: he is cunning and sly, but also has his cute moments, just like a young fox making weird noises and acting like a playful puppy in one moment, and then biting your hand in the next moment. I think mentally Ace is stuck between being a cat and a dog, and I feel like a fox is a surprisingly good pick here lol He just feels like a ginger menace.

Deuce – of course, Ace’s counterpart would be a jackrabbit beastman; I feel like a fox and a rabbit are a classical combo, plus Deuce already has a rabbit motif related to him in a way. Deuce is specifically a jackrabbit because he is very fast, but also because while he isn’t naturally hostile or aggressive, he has his moments. And powerful legs for kicking.

Trey – definitely a beastman, but which one? Ironically I think a cat would be good pick for him, partially because of Che’nya, but he also feels like something more… bear-like, maybe? Or a badger? Something that could be confused for looking comfy and friendly when it’s just this nice man with cute ears, but actually quite ferocious when it’s needed. I feel like I’m missing something obvious here though.

Cater – I started thinking about hare Cater that you mentioned, immediately thought “well he’s good at multiplying” and had to punch myself for this joke. Now my face hurts so I’ll just day that Cater is a jabberwocky beastman. Alright, jokes aside, I still think he would be a beastman, but maybe some kind of cute and magicammable-looking carnivore. Like a weasel, for example.  

Kalim – a mongoose would be so good, wouldn’t it? But I feel like Kalim would be something fancier and flashier; maybe a bird bestman? I know some people confused him with an animeboyification of Iago at first. A colourful bird that loves to sing and dance and that is at the same time endearing and annoying to some (Jamil). But bird-based beastmen are a bit difficult to imagine… I’ll complain about it in a bit when I talk about Rook lol Kalim could also be some kind of fae that are distantly related to jinns, but don’t have the same amount of power for some reason.

Jamil – I really want to make him a naga, but we don’t know if those even exist in twst-universe lol plus, it would probably be very difficult for his family to be active servants if they had snake tails… I think he would be a black caracal; it’s a desert cat, and apparently they are very good at jumping high – he’s a basketball player after all. Caracals are also known for hissing a lot, so yeah, as close to a snake as one could get while still somehow managing to make Jamil into a catboy lol Just google those ears, it’s so cute!!

Vil – a fae. There is the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio lol It just works with him, both aesthetically and thematically somehow. Plus I am still thinking about him picking Diasomnia if  he was forced to choose any other dorm to join, which is of course not enough of a reason, but the idea of Diasomnia!Vil and fae!Vil still lives in my head. He would also be gorgeous as a betta merman, of course.

Rook – definitely a beastman, and I think it’s only fair to make him a bird of prey kind. I am not sure if that would make any changes to his appearance though; if Zazu’s equivalent is a beastman, then I guess Rook wouldn’t change much. But if he isn’t and we haven’t seen a bird beastman before, then maybe Rook would have some feathers… maybe even wings? But I also easily see him as a hunting dog.

Epel – another rabbit beastman!! He thinks Deuce is lucky because he is a jackrabbit with long ears and tall body, when Epel’s ears are smaller and way cuter because he is more of a bunny rabbit. His ma’s and meemaw’s ears are floppy, but his aren’t just yet, and he hopes it stays that way. When they’re floppy he looks even cuter… at least he still got those rabbit legs for kicking and angry stomping!

Idia – a merman. Yes, exactly, a firefly squid, who spends most of his life very deep underwater in isolation. I was hesitant to make him a merman at first because he is very tied to technology that is kind of incompatible with water (+ hehe Idia bald jokes), but hey, S.T.Y.X. is located underwater so the motif is there! Plus, the squid’s behaviour really fits Idia (Floyd is very good at nicknames). Plus, his hair being shiny also works with how dark it is in the deepest parts of the underwater world… But catboy Idia would be so cute ahhh…!!

Ortho – real!Ortho would also be a firefly squid merman, AI!Ortho would be a small clione-like creature that Idia crafted himself. Or maybe just a regular Ortho with the gear that is more suitable for swimming + hollow and sparkly. But also, alternatively, I think it would be super unfair not to mention that Ortho is a dogboy lol I don’t know how it works in relation to Idia, but Ortho is too much of a dogboy to ignore it.

Silver – fighting the urge to make him a fae because that would be missing the entire point AHHH, alright I love the idea of him being a deer beastboy! But also a rabbit because of the event… He is a jackalope lol Jokes aside, picturing Silver with beautiful deer horns is very easy. Birds would decorate them with flowers, or just sit on them… He is just like Bambi – the prince of the woods. But also also, Silver works well as a merman. Especially if he isn’t aware that he is one because Lilia made him drink potions ever since he was a baby.

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 19

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

This has literally all the worst things the internet has to offer: Ableism, Sexisms, Toxic Media, horrible journalism, death threats...I am pretty sure I am missing some of it.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Call Transcript - Rachel Anderson & Richard Treshton

Richard Treshton: [Answers the call, voice tense] Rachel.

Rachel Anderson: Oh, so you do pick up the phone. I assume you already know why I’m calling.

Richard Treshton: [Dry] No, but I imagine I’m about to find out.

Rachel Anderson: [Scoffs] Don’t play dumb. I’ve had reporters on my doorstep all morning, asking about Lizzie. They were digging into my personal life. I have nothing to do with this. I haven’t spoken to her in years. Why am I being dragged into this mess?

Richard Treshton: Because some lowlife on the internet thought digging into Lizzie’s past would make good entertainment.

Rachel Anderson: [Scoffs] I don’t see why they’re so obsessed. She writes fairy porn for a living!

Richard Treshton: Excuse me?

Rachel Anderson: Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what’s in those books. I skimmed one after all the press about her and that driver started up. It’s embarrassing, Richard. She’s a grown woman writing drivel about handmaidens and fae warriors.

Richard Treshton: [Coldly] Careful.

Rachel Anderson: Oh, please. Let’s not pretend her little fairy tale nonsense is high literature. The only reason she’s even relevant right now is because she latched onto that racing driver—

Richard Treshton: You don’t get to talk about her like that. You don’t get to belittle her, not when you gave up any right to an opinion the day you walked out on her.

Rachel Anderson: [Defensive] I left because I had to, Richard. You know that.

Richard Treshton: [Furious] No, you left because you couldn’t deal with having a sick child. You made a choice. Lizzie was six years old, Rachel. Six. And you left her wondering why her own mother didn’t love her enough to stay.

Rachel Anderson: [Quiet] That’s not fair.

Richard Treshton: No, what’s not fair is that she had to grow up without a mother. What’s not fair is that she learned, at six years old, that the person who was supposed to love her unconditionally decided she wasn’t worth the effort.

Rachel Anderson: [Uncomfortable] Richard—

Richard Treshton: [Cold] You don’t get to rewrite history just because the press showed up at your door.

Rachel Anderson: [Tightly] I didn’t call to argue with you. I called to say that I don’t want any part of this circus. I don’t want my name attached to Elizabeth’s mess—

Richard Treshton: [Dangerous calm] Lizzie isn’t a mess.

Rachel Anderson: [Scoffs] Oh, come on—

Richard Treshton: She is a best-selling author. She is a strong, brilliant, and kind person who has done more with her life than you could ever hope to understand. She is a woman who wakes up every day and keeps going, even when the world makes it harder for her.

Rachel Anderson: Oh, go to hell. 

Richard Treshton: You first. And while you are at it: Keep my daughter’s name out of your damn mouth, Rachel. 

***

Lizzie hadn't let go of Mara since it had happened.

Not on the drive home...not when she had crawled into her bed, and pulled the blanket over her head.

She had curled up on her bed, fingers buried in the soft fur of her Labrador, face pressed against Mara’s side like she could disappear into the warmth. The weight of the world sat heavy on her chest, pressing her down, making it hard to move, hard to think, hard to breathe.

Lando sat beside her, close but not pushing. He hadn’t left her side, not once. His hand rested on her knee, grounding. A silent reminder that he was here. That he wasn’t going anywhere.

But now, morning had come. And he had to go. McLaren wanted him in for a meeting.

Lizzie’s stomach twisted as she listened to him get dressed, the sounds of fabric rustling, the quiet zip of his hoodie. Her eyes were still closed, her face half-buried in the pillow. She could feel Mara pressed against her side, the dog’s nose nuzzling into her hip.

The door was ajar, Lando’s shadow passing in front of the light spilling in from the hallway.

Lizzie still hadn’t looked at her phone. She didn’t want to know what else was being said. Didn’t want to see her name trending. Didn’t want to read a single thing about her mother being dragged into the mess, about her private life being turned into entertainment.

Lando hesitated before speaking.

“Do you regret it?” His voice was careful, quiet.

Lizzie went very still.

For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. The hum of the AC, the tick of the clock on the wall.

Do you regret it?

She knew exactly what he was asking without saying. Not about her mother, not about the stupid online bullshit. Lando was asking about them.

Lizzie’s fingers twitched in Mara’s fur.

She exhaled, long and slow. “I don’t regret you.”

Lando let out a breath of his own, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction. He was watching her; she could feel his gaze, warm and steady on her.

“Not even once?” he said, voice quiet enough that she almost thought she’d misheard him.

Her heart clenched.

She forced herself to sit up, pushing herself up on her elbows. "No. Not once," she told him, her voice raw. "I don't regret you. I...don't even regret going public," she admitted weakly. "I just wish it..."

Lando’s gaze softened. He walked over to her, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand landed on her hip, thumb stroking the bare skin as he leaned in. “You wish it what?”

Her throat felt tight.

She exhaled, then said, “I wish it didn’t make the world hate me."

Lando’s thumb stilled.

Then he was pulling her forward, his arms sliding around her. He pulled her into his lap, her legs on either side of his hips. Lizzie went willingly, burying her face in his chest, her fingers curling in the material of his hoodie.

He tucked her head under his chin, letting her hide against him. She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head.

“They don’t get to hate you,” he murmured, his voice rough.

“Lando...”

He tightened his arms around her. “No, listen,” he said, his breath warm against her temple. “The whole goddamn world could hate you, and I would still love you. They wouldn’t change a damn thing."

She closed her eyes, her eyes stinging. She wanted nothing more than to simply hide away with him.

She took a shuddering breath, then another.

“ I can’t do social media right now.” Her voice was quiet, rough at the edges. “I just—can’t.”

Lando nodded instantly. “Then don’t. You don’t have to.”

Her throat bobbed. “People are everywhere, saying—” She stopped, shaking her head, burying her face against the crook of his neck.

Lando’s hand came up to cradle her head, the fingers of his other hand tracing gentle circles on her back. “I know. I know what they’re saying.” His jaw clenched. She could feel it against her forehead.

She could also feel the tension coursing through his body, how hard he was fighting to restrain himself, to keep his response in check.

“You don’t have to see it. You don’t have to read it," he said softly.

Lizzie let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “It doesn’t matter if I read it. It’s there. It exists. They think they know me, think they get to have opinions about me, and I—I just want to exist, Lando."

“You do get to exist,” he said, his tone a mix of fierce and urgent, like he needed her to understand this. “Those idiots on Twitter—they don’t get to take this from us. And they don’t get a say in how we live our lives.”

He took her chin in his hand, gently lifting her face to look at him. “They don’t get to decide how I feel about you.”

Lizzie inhaled sharply, searching his gaze.

His eyes were dark, focused on hers. But there was a determined set to his jaw, and a fire in his eyes that she knew meant he was ready to take on the whole world, if he had to.

And in that moment, all she felt was the quiet, overwhelming certainty that he’d win, because he’d fight for this. For them.

 “Your dad’s coming over,” he murmured. “I have to go to McLaren, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Lizzie’s grip tightened. “Okay.”

Lando hesitated, then leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

Lizzie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you too.”

Lando’s expression softened. He took her face in his hands, tilting her head up, and kissed her.

His lips were warm, firm against hers, his fingers curling possessively against her skin. It was an urgent kiss, fierce and a little desperate, as though trying to say all the things they couldn’t put into words.

He broke the kiss far too soon, resting his forehead against hers. “You text me if you need me, okay? I’m coming right back.”

Lizzie nodded. “Okay.”

Lando’s eyes searched hers, like he was trying to commit all of her face to memory. Then, reluctantly, he pulled away, sliding her off his lap so he could stand.

He paused, one hand on the door. “Liz.”

She looked up at him. “Yeah?”

Then he smiled, that same crooked, boyish grin that had made her heart skip a beat from the moment she first saw him.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told her, with a conviction that made her believe him.

Lizzie tried to return the smile. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

Her father came over...The The house was quiet, save for the distant hum of the wind outside and the occasional creak of the old floorboards. Lizzie sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea, watching as her father moved around the small space, rinsing out the kettle and tidying up even though it didn’t need tidying. She knew what that meant—he was working through something in his head, giving himself time before he spoke.

Her father was a tall man, with dark eyes that had always seen everything. He finally sat down across from her, his hands wrapping around the mug of tea. He blew softly over the surface before taking a sip. Then he exhaled, his gaze meeting hers as he carefully set the mug back down.

Mara was curled up at Lizzie’s feet, resting her head against her lap. The Labrador always seemed to know when she needed grounding, her presence solid and unwavering. Lizzie absentmindedly ran her fingers through Mara’s soft fur, trying to do the same for herself.

Her father cleared his throat. “I should've warned you…”

Lizzie frowned. “You knew?”

“I knew about them.” He hesitated. “I didn’t know people were going to drag it into the spotlight like this, but… yeah, I knew.”

Lizzie took a slow breath, willing her voice to stay even. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Her father rubbed the back of his neck. “Because it wasn’t going to change anything.”

Lizzie let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well. I know now.”

Her father exhaled sharply, drumming his fingers against the table. “She called me, you know.”

Lizzie stiffened. “What?”

“This morning.” He shook his head. “She’s furious. Says she has reporters showing up at her house, asking her kids about you.”

Lizzie’s stomach turned. “I didn’t want that,” she murmured.

“I know,” her dad said. “But she’s acting like it’s your fault. Like you somehow brought this on her.”

Lizzie stared silently into her tea. She didn’t want to feel guilt over this. She didn’t want to feel the weight of it on her shoulders, the churning sensation in her stomach.

Lizzie swallowed hard, gripping her mug a little tighter.

Her life.

Her kids.

Her mother had built a family—one that didn’t include her. One that had never even considered including her.

“She really just… replaced us,” Lizzie murmured. “Didn’t she?”

Her father’s expression softened. “Lizzie…”

She shook her head, refusing the sympathy she saw in his eyes. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want pity. She just wanted—she wanted this to be over.

Her voice was almost a whisper when she said, “Do you ever regret it?”

Her dad’s brow furrowed. “Regret what?”

“Sticking with me,” she said quietly. She forced herself to look up, to meet his gaze. “When she left. When I got sick. When things got hard. Do you ever wish you’d done what she did? Started over? With a new wife? A normal kid?"

There was a long moment of silence, her words echoing in the air.

Then her father reached across the table, and took her hand, fingers curling gently around hers.

“Elizabeth.” His voice was steady, firm. “I need you to listen to me.”

She swallowed, nodding.

“I have never—never—regretted staying.” He squeezed her hands. “Not once. Not for a single second.”

Lizzie felt something crack in her chest.

“I would do it all over again,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Every long night, every hospital visit, every fear and frustration—if it meant having you, I’d do it a thousand times over.”

Lizzie blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Even though it wasn’t easy?”

Her father let out a quiet laugh. “Most of the best things in life aren’t easy.” He cupped her cheek, brushing away the tear that had slipped free. “But they’re worth it. And you, kid… you are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

The tears were falling in earnest now, streaming down her face, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“Dad,” she said, voice choked.

He gently pulled her out of her chair and into his arms, letting her cry against his chest like she was suddenly six years old again, overwhelmed and scared and just wanting her dad.

He held her firmly, gently. He didn’t say anything, just let her cling to him.

He rocked her back and forth, the same way he had when she was little and had scraped her knees, gotten too overwhelmed in a crowded place, or cried herself into a seizure. He never let go, just held her close, letting her sob into his shoulder.

"I never regretted it," he repeated. "Not for one single second, Lizzie. You are my daughter. And I will never, never be alright with people treating you like you are a burden or unlovable or that you don't deserve to exist."

Lizzie’s arms tightened around his neck, like she was six again and he was the only thing tethering her to solid ground. It was familiar and comforting, and she had never been more grateful that this man was her dad.

She let herself sink into him. The solid line of his shoulders against her, the beat of his heart, the smell of his favorite cologne. Her dad was quiet and unassuming, soft-spoken and kind, but he was also the most fiercely protective person she’d ever known.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle. “You are the best thing I ever got out of my marriage,” he murmured. His hand came up to brush her hair away from her face, his palm cupping her cheek. “Just tell me something.”

She sniffed. “What?”

He tilted her chin up, meeting her gaze, his grip on her firm but always gentle. “You’re happy? With Lando?”

She nodded. There was no hesitation, nothing but the familiar, overwhelming certainty that this thing with him was right.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I am.”

“He makes you happy?” he pressed.

She nodded again, not even needing to think about it. “Yeah.” A small smile touched her lips. “More than I ever thought I could be.”

***

***

The tension in the McLaren briefing room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Lando was sitting at the head of the table, arms crossed, jaw locked, radiating barely contained fury. Across from him, Sophie from PR looked like she’s fighting off a migraine, while Zak Brown and Andrea Stella exchanged cautious glances.

And then there’s Oscar—legs crossed, scrolling through his phone with the same casual energy as someone reading the weather forecast.

Lando exhaled sharply. “Let me get this straight. You all knew that Lizzie was getting harassed like this, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Sophie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Lando, we weren’t trying to hide anything from you. We were monitoring the situation, trying to control the damage before it got out of hand.”

Lando scoffed. “Out of hand? Do you think what’s happening now is ‘under control’?”

Zak leant forward, trying to maintain some authority over the spiraling conversation. “We wanted to handle it internally, without escalating the situation further.”

Lando’s hands slammed onto the table. “Lizzie has been dealing with days of harassment—ableism, threats, even people doxxing her mother—and your grand plan was to just wait it out?”

Zak didn’t immediately respond, which only infuriated Lando further.

“And you let me walk into that interview blind?” Lando’s voice was dangerously low now. “If I hadn’t shut that down myself, what were you expecting me to say? That maybe, yeah, dating my girlfriend is too hard because she has epilepsy? That I regret being with her? Because that’s exactly what they wanted from me.”

Sophie shifted uncomfortably. “We didn’t expect them to be that direct about it—”

“Bullshit.”

Zak sighed, rubbing his temples. “Lando, we understand that you’re upset—”

“No, you don’t!” Lando cut him off, his voice raw with frustration. “You don’t get it at all! You get to sit here and talk about damage control while Lizzie is at home seeing people pick apart her entire existence like she’s a burden. You think I give a shit about PR right now?”

Zak exhaled. “We’re not saying we do nothing. We just need to be strategic about it.”

Lando let out a humorless laugh. “Strategic. Right. Because God forbid McLaren actually takes a stand instead of waiting until it’s convenient.”

Andrea finally spoke up, voice sharp. “Lando. Be reasonable.”

Lando didn’t even bother trying to contain his scoff. “Be reasonable? You think I’m being unreasonable?”

Oscar set his phone down with a thunk. “Okay, I’m done listening to this.”

Sophie tenses. “Oscar—”

“No, really. Because this is ridiculous.” Oscar looks around at everyone, unimpressed. “Lando wants to make a statement, and you’re acting like he’s trying to blow up the whole team. But guess what? It’s already blown up. This isn’t a little PR hiccup. It’s a full-on disaster. And the only thing worse than handling it badly is doing nothing.”

Zak watched him carefully. “We’re trying to avoid making it worse.”

“By saying nothing? That’s not how this works, Zak.” Oscar shrugged. “You want to wait it out? Fine. But I won’t.”

Sophie groaned. “Oscar—”

“Either you release a statement and you’ll let Lando release a statement, or I’ll start tweeting like I did with Alpine.”

Silence.

Zak blinked. Andrea actually looked alarmed. Sophie looked like she might start crying.

Lando could just stare at his teammate.

Sophie swallowed. “You’re bluffing.”

Oscar’s face remained impressively stoic. “Try me.”

“Oscar,” she said slowly, like she’s trying to reason with a wild animal, “do you remember what happened the last time you went rogue on Twitter?”

Oscar arched one eyebrow. “Yeah. Alpine cried about it, and then I got a better seat. Good times.”

Lando, despite his anger, let out a breath of disbelief. “Oscar, you absolute menace.”

Oscar shrugged. “People seem to forget I have zero patience for bullshit.” He picked up his phone again. "Give out a statement. Or I'll do it for you.  I’m pretty sure there are 19 other drivers who will agree with me that ableism is bullshit.”

Sophie buried her face in her hands. Zak swore under his breath. Andrea just looks resigned.

Lando?

Lando finally, finally smirks. “Remind me to buy you dinner later.”

Sophie lifted her head from her hands, eyes darting between Oscar and Lando like she’s debating whether to resign on the spot or fight for what little control she has left. Zak exhaled through his nose, arms crossed, looking like a man who knows he’s lost but refuses to admit it.

Andrea, ever the level-headed one, finally spoke. “Alright. Let’s take a step back. Oscar—if you tweet, what exactly are you planning to say?”

Oscar leans back, unfazed. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like—‘If your biggest concern about my teammate’s girlfriend is her having a medical condition instead of, I don’t know, the insane amount of talent she has or the fact that she makes him happy, then I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe try being a better human being.’” He tilts his head. “Something like that.”

Sophie groaned like she’s physically in pain. “Oscar, please.”

Lando was outright grinning now, despite the fury still simmering under his skin. “Yeah, I definitely owe you dinner.”

Zak closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself before responding. “We need to be smart about this. If we make this bigger than it already is, we risk—”

“Risk what?” Lando interrupted, voice sharp again. “Risk pissing off the same people who are already tearing Lizzie apart for existing? Risk upsetting the same journalists who think they can get away with asking me if I regret being with my girlfriend? Fuck that.”

Zak pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lando—”

“No, Zak. I’m done. You guys are trying to manage PR while Lizzie is sitting at home seeing people drag her through the dirt for things she can’t control. You’re worried about making it worse? It’s already as bad as it gets! They doxxed her mother. They’re making fun of her service dog. They’re acting like she’s ruining my life just by being in it. And the longer we say nothing, the longer they think they’re right.”

Silence.

Andrea exhaled, nodding slightly. “He’s right.”

Zak’s eyes snap to him, but Andrea holds his gaze. “This isn’t just a PR issue anymore. It’s an integrity issue. If we ignore this, we’re condoning it. And frankly, I don’t want to work for a team that stays silent when something this disgusting is happening to someone in our family.”

Lando blinked at him, surprised but grateful.

Zak sat back, weighing his options. He looked at Lando, at Oscar, at Andrea. He knew he’s outnumbered.

Finally, with a sigh, he nods. “Fine. We put out a statement.”

Sophie looks pained, but she knows there’s no stopping this now. “What do you want it to say?”

Lando didn’t even hesitate. “That ableism is unacceptable. That Lizzie has been subjected to relentless harassment, and it needs to stop. That McLaren stands by her, and we won’t tolerate this kind of treatment toward her—or anyone.” He looked directly at Zak. “And that I love my girlfriend, and I’m not ashamed to say it.”

Zak held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. “Alright.”

Oscar grinned. “Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some tweets to like.”

Sophie looks like she might combust on the spot. “Oscar, for the love of God, please do not start a Twitter war before we even get the statement out.”

Oscar doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Too late.”

Lando leans over to peek at Oscar’s screen and immediately snorts. “Oh my God, you just liked a tweet that says ‘Lando Norris should set the internet on fire and propose out of spite.’”

Oscar shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”

Sophie stared at him in open horror. “You’re not helping.”

Zak rubbed his temples. “Alright, let’s get ahead of this before we end up with marriage rumors on top of everything else.”

Andrea, ever the strategist, spoke up. “We need to make sure we’re not just reacting to the backlash. This isn’t about damage control—it’s about making a clear statement. We stand by Lizzie. We won’t tolerate ableism.”

Zak sighs. “Fine. But we phrase it carefully. Something like…” He glances at Sophie.

She still looks exhausted but nods. “‘McLaren stands firmly against the harassment and ableism directed at Elizabeth Treshton. We are appalled by the treatment she has received and fully support Lando and Lizzie against this unacceptable behavior.’”

Lando leans forward. “Make sure you use the word ‘ableism.’ A lot of these people don’t even think what they’re doing is wrong. They need to hear it.”

Zak sighs. “Lando—”

“No.” Lando cuts him off. “This isn’t just about Lizzie anymore. If they can say this shit about her, what’s stopping them from going after other people? What if another driver’s partner has a medical condition? What if it’s a fan next time? If we don’t call this out, we’re saying it’s okay.”

Oscar nodded. “I’m tweeting.”

Sophie groaned. “Of course you are.”

Zak shook his head but didn't argue. “Fine. But let’s make sure McLaren’s statement goes out first.”

Lando quietly said, “Make it strong.”

Sophie exhaled. “It will be.”

Andrea looked at them all, nodding slightly. “Good. Because after this, things are going to get loud.”Oscar, jaw still tight, finally put his phone down. “Good.”

[bear-ann]

So here are the events from last night.

Sorry it’s so long and ranty beauties but I am still just so livid, you don’t need to read it at all because I understand we like this to be a positive place and I apologise for bringing my shit here but I just don’t have that many people that listen to me in life so I always find it helpful talking with you girls.

And by the way, this was totally out of character for this person, I have known him as a friend for years. But I guess this guy thinks that if you’re going to get to the girlfriend stage, he no longer needs to be nice. I have been love bombed and manipulated 1000%! Even that stunt with the flowers for my neighbour yesterday just all seems like a fake good guy act now.

So, I have a lot of personal issues, one of them being anxiety in huge crowds and when it’s extremely loud.

I didn’t used to have this, it’s developed after a traumatic event, which he was there for by the way so he knows this! It’s never been a secret that I suffer from this and he’s never let on it’s a problem and he’s fully aware of it.

Let’s also bare in mind, I had no clue where we were going because it was all a surprise and he said it was all ‘curated to me’ so I’m obviously thinking, he knows I have severe crowd anxiety, I’m sure he’s thought it through and I trusted him.

So he picks me up, I ask where we’re going and he said the first place was my favourite bar.

Now mind you, I normally frequent this bar during the mid-week when it’s just regulars and not a lot of people. The music is always on pretty low, it’s a pretty calming atmosphere for me.

However, because it was a Saturday I knew it would probably be so busy so I’m instantly panicking but I was trying to be nice about it and decided we’d give it a go.

So we get there, and in all fairness he had booked us a table so we did have somewhere to sit but people were packed in there like sardines!

Standing wedged to our table and everything so it’s instantly too busy and loud and I was internally freaking out.

And there were a group of middle aged men who were making me feel very uncomfortable with how they were looking at me, which didn’t help.

But I was trying to mask it and not make it his problem even though I was a little pissed that this was supposed to be an evening designed for me, yet the first thing we do is the worst thing he could have me do! But I still went about ordering my corn dog, attempting to make conversation.

Then it just got too much, all the noise and hustle and bustle was so overwhelming so I asked if we could do what he had planned next and we left. And this was me being polite because with how anxious I was, I just wanted to go home.

So we start walking around the corner, I have no clue where we’re going and we arrive at yet another bar!

Then he says ‘I know you like the brand of tequila they have in here’ in a voice that gave the impression he thought he was automatically coming back to my apartment with me if I had tequila.

So at this point I’m just pissed off, but it didn’t look too busy from the outside so I forced myself to go in, with the intention to talk to him in there about how I was feeling and that I wanted to leave.

So we go inside, yet again way too busy and there was what seemed to be a bachelor party group in there, so you can imagine the vibe and rowdiness in there does not mix well with how I was feeling, so I walked straight back out.

Then out comes so called ‘buddy’ pissed at me!

He said that I’m spoiling the night, giving it a negative vibe and acting like a brat!

Mind you ladies, I had not even complained once and I had plastered the most realistic fake smile on my face that I could muster, this entire time.

So I said something along the lines of being pissed off because I just thought he’d have taken the fact that it’s a busy Saturday into consideration when planning to go to bars, and you know what this motherfucker said?!

He said ‘This is ridiculous! This is pathetic!’ Pathetic! The douchebag called me pathetic!

So I called a taxi and got my butt outta there!

He has since bombarded my phone with rude texts, phone calls and voicemails all early hours of the morning.

Just what the fuck. I have nothing more to say than what the actual fuck was that?!

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Babies.”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

MASTERLIST

I had to cut my affair short. At least for a while after Christmas and New Years. Austin, Lori and I went back to California after he finished filming Masters of the Air.

The first thing the wanted to do was visit Ashley, they hadn’t seen each other in two years. And she had just had a baby so WE HAD to visit.

I prepared a small basket filled with things for her and the babe. Austin called me ‘snob’. I knew that Ashley still preferred Vanessa over me any day but— I wanted to keep my good face. Plus, I know how hard it can be to be a new mother and to have everyone around you just tend for the baby.

“Do you think she’ll like them?” I asked Austin as he drove, Lori was in her car seat, playing with a rag doll Austin had bought her on the Farmer’s Market.

“You put chocolate in hers. Of course she’ll like it.” Austin said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“At least now we have something in common.” I scoffed. I WANTED her to like me. Was it so bad to want that?

I pulled down the sun visor, looking at myself, fixing my bangs and eyelashes.

As we arrived, Austin helped me with the baskets and I had Lori by my hip. Oh, she was excited to see this new ‘baby’ her daddy was raving about for the past few months.

The reunion went smoothly, it was nice. Ashley and her husband received us, Ashley and Austin almost cried. We got to hold baby Jupiter.

“Aww…” I cuddled Jupiter in my arms. She was a big, pretty baby. I had a big smile in my face, but Lori was jealous, quickly slapping my arm trying to get my attention. “Honey, let me—“ And that’s how Lori started weeping to the high skies.

“Let me just…” Austin took Jupiter from my arms before I picked up Lori and walked to the kitchen to calm her down. My three year old was definitely a mommy’s girl.

“Mommy.” Lori muttered as her head was hidden on the crook of my neck.

“You gotta behave, sweetheart. No one’s gonna take me away from you.” I kissed her blonde hair, shushing him. Yes, I had a little heart. Everything got to me. And I couldn’t handle trying to discipline Lori. How could I?

Because to me, Lori was a small saint. In my eyes she was the most untainted and untouchable person in the whole wide world. I looked at her and revered. That’s how deep my love for her went. She was my first baby. I would kill, I would die, just for her. Because, now that I was a mother— I understood why my mother always favored my older sister Jackie. One will never love anything else the way a mother loves their first child.

As we had dinner, Ashley’s husband made some jokes. I laughed at almost all of them, but not all. I didn’t want her to feel like I was being flirty. I ate enough to not get weird looks. I was grateful they even allowed me to come and not just invite Austin from the beginning.

As Ashley and I got up to have ‘girl chat’ as we prepared dessert, I wanted to talk but— Jesus. I’m the worst person to start a conversation. I hate started conversations and not being able to keep them going.

“I just wanted to say thanks for the basket. No one had brought me something that was just for me.” Ashley said, turning to look at me with a smile.

“Oh. It’s of no problem. I just thought it would be thoughtful.” I smiled back before looking away awkwardly and clearing my throat. “Hey. I know we started on the wrong foot. And that I’m not was you would want in Austin’s life. And that you and I do not have nothing in common…” I chuckled.

“Hey. Look, it’s not that you’re not fit to be with Austin—”

I interrupted her, knowing she would probably say ‘you’re mixing things up’.

“But now. We’re both mothers. And we love our daughters. Perhaps we have much more in common that we let ourselves show.” I said, looking down at my feet.

Why did I feel like a child trying to be eloquent? Maybe it was my whole look. I heard Austin and Ashley’s husband snickering about my dress. My pretty, blue fifties dress.

“That we do. And you’re right. I’m too stuck on the past. Even Vanessa and Austin have moved on yet I haven’t.” Ashley said.

Was she actually taking me seriously?

“I’m guilty of seeing you as nothing but a girl who Austin used as a rebound. I often forget that you’re a grown woman. A married and mother at that.” Ashley chuckled.

Was that how everyone in Austin’s inner circle saw me as? A little girl, too naive to be a mother or a wife?

Ashley and I looked at the living room. Where Lori was trying to get Jupiter to crawl, the baby was like about to turn one. So they were just laughing and giggling together.

“You love her, don’t you?” I asked Ashley, she was giving Jupiter the biggest heart eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Of course. I had her inside of me for too long without being able to look at her. Now I don’t want to stop doing so— not even for a minute.”

I smiled. I remembered when u just had Lori. God, how badly I wanted to feel connected to her yet I couldn’t. I think the maternal instinct wasn’t something natural in me. I think it grew as I spent more time with Lori as she grew.

“Love no one but your daughter. On that front us mother have no choice.” I said, looking at my nails. “And enjoy her. Really. I’ve seen it with my mother. It’s true what they say.”

“What?” Ashley asked, looking back at me.

“That you never love anything in the world the way you love your very first baby.” I smiled at Ashley.

Austin left that house with baby fever. As he drove back home, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. His hand steady on my thigh and trying to get in my pants.

“Thank God you’re wearing a dress.” He growled.

“Focus on driving.” I rolled my eyes, trying to slap his hand away.

He pulled his hand away and frowned. Huh, I thought he hated frowning because it wrinkled you earlier— oh, wait. That was just a stupid rule he made just for me.

“If I were Callum, you would already be spreading your legs. Wouldn’t you?” He spat out sourly, shake started to consume me immediately.

Look— confession. I was raised by Mexicans, and not to generalize. Because God, I would never. But I feel that like most girls, no matter where we come from. We’re taught that getting slut-shamed is the worst type of insult to get. Specially by someone who ‘loves’ you. So I gulped.

“That’s just not true. You’re using that against me.” I said rather quickly.

“Why shouldn’t I? I still can’t accept my own wife was such a slut for another man.” He scoffed. I felt myself choking back a few sobs. I NEVER treated him like this after he had TWO affairs. “I’m sorry I can’t call him so he comes and fucks you instead of me.”

I glared at him. I knew I wasn’t innocent. I was bad, but he was no angel either.

When we got home and after I tucked Lori into her little bed. He was all over me in our bed, once again whispering filthy words towards me. Calling me names. I was never a fan of him calling me whore or slut but if he likes it, then it was okay with me.

“We’re going to have another baby.” He moaned in my ear as he pounded into me. I could only moan back and nodded.

The last thing I wanted was another babe. Lori and I were good as we were now. Plus, he himself was never extra fond of children. He liked having them for some time and then leaving. Like with Ashley’s case, where he was the fun uncle and not the dad.

The next month I took a test.

I was pregnant again.

I kinda wanted to make a chapter just about kinda giving some insight on motherhood. But I AM NOT a mother so I wouldn’t really know.

I DO NOT KNOW how to write smut. I can read it but I am horrible at writing it.

[fertilize-my-eggs]

He try humping me and huffing like a dog ch.1

A/N: don't forget to read the tags on A03 you have been warned.

Ch.2 ch.3

Quietly in the dark room only to hear clicking sound from the keyboard as I'm hunched over looking for multiple jobs on my laptop, I got myself an apartment but now I'm desperately finding a job to pay the bills, it's so expensive these days.

I spotted a job that has surprisingly good pay and isn't far from here, it's a local bar.

The description on it was good, great customer service, it also said that I have to call them for the job interview as I put the phone number on my phone and began to call it.

“ hello… "It sounds like male voice with a smoothing calm voice as I clear my throat.

“ hi this is the bar for cleaning? I would like to do an interview please. ” It was quiet on the other end of the line. I think I hear some faint whispers but it's hard to say as I hold my breath.

“ Tomura shigaraki would like you to come at 8am in this bar for the interview and to wear casual clothes. ”

With that, it hangs up as I blink fast, I have a job interview tomorrow. I'm so excited as I get up for joy.

Casual wear? Mhmm I look for clothes that would seem nice and appropriate for an interview, I grab a gray turtleneck sweater and a skirt that is over the knees, with black tights and simple shoes.

I think it looks cute on me and it seems like casual wear to me.

I set the alarm before 8am as I quickly get ready for sleep and also for the job.

Hopefully it's easy and not too much of a hassle. 

.

.

.

The morning came so fast as I rushed to shower and get dressed quickly, I didn't get breakfast. Hopefully the new boss wouldn't mind letting me eat on the job…

Would he? I haven't heard a name like that but I bet he's nice…

The walk to the bar isn't long as I open the door to be greeted by an empty bar, huh?

They should be here already. Why isn't there anyone around.. maybe it's too early.

I sat on the stool as I waited patiently for the interview, I pulled my phone out to scrolling on my YouTube fyp.

Getting jumpscared by a man that just made out of air and he bowed his head.

“ I deeply apologize, tomura shigaraki will be seeing you shortly. ” I recognize his voice from the call, he looks so different then on the phone call.. I was expecting him to be more human like .. interesting.

Well since you're quirkless and just a normal human being, I started to think maybe….. something feels off, I put my fingers on my lips as I think.

This bar feels a bit unsettling and makes your guts have a twist as I stay still and hope he's a nice boss.

Speaking of the devil as I hear shuffling the man open the door as I'm greeted by a man with light blue short hair who looks to be in his early 20's, he looks harmless at first but his aura has a weight to it like he's holding power as I noticed he has… a skin condition, I don't want to ask him because it could come out as rude as he lightly scratched his neck.

He didn't even greet me as he stood in front of me.

He tilted his head clearly annoyed expression lay on his face.

“ What's your name and quirk? ” He raises his brow as I gasp a little, his staring little longer makes me uncomfortable as I look downward as I hold my hands together.

“ I’m (name) (last name).... And quirkless sir. ”

“ ahh.. why do you want to work this job? ”

I made eye contact with Shigaraki as I said.” w-well I love to clean and make everything as nice as possible, I love to help others. ” That's a lie, I hate cleaning but I have to get this job already because it's easy plus it's just cleaning the bar… right?

He narrows his eyes as he puff out air, he leans in close as I start to feel more uncomfortable as I sat still and watch his moments.

“ What is your opinion on heroes? ” heroes?? I thought this was gonna be a cleaning kind of question, he's a strange man by the looks.

“ uhh I'm not sure.. ” I tilt my head as I think about an answer quickly.

“ I'm not really a big fan of them, I don't think I can relate to them. "Then I see his smile grow so big and fast that it's so unsettling wide that I see his gums and uneven teeth as he sigh out of relief.

“ good answer, I hate the heroes with a burning passion, I despise them… I hate the hero society as a whole. It's so annoying-.. ” he continues his rant as I'm forced to listen to his long hatred rants towards all might.

I didn't say anything knowing this man seemed dangerous and could snap at any moment.

Maybe this is when I slowly start to realize that this isn't just a normal bar with a nice boss and coworkers no no no.. I was dead wrong about this.

“ Welcome to the league of villains (name). ” he proudly says to me as I turn around to see a group of individuals standing behind me, I gulp my saliva as I think to myself.

What the hell is happening.

I felt fingertips on my neck as the faint whispers into my ear.

“ If you try to snitch on us for the heros, it will be game over for you.… nothing but a pile of ashes by my quirk decay. Understood (name)? ” I can see his pinky dangerously wiggle close to my neck as I gulp.

“ y-yes, I understand sir. ” he let go as he has a small smile as he stared hard like he was throwing daggers into my body.

“ good.. your work starts today and make sure everything is spotless when I get back. ”

I watch him leaving with his group and leaving me alone in this bar except for the gas man that was lingering in the background.

I tilt my head towards him as he was holding out a mop and bucket as he spoke softly.

“ Young Tomura Shigaraki expects you highly for this job, he has a harsh temper. If he sees something that he doesn't like, he will destroy anything.” I gulp down as I look downward in disbelief, I feel like crying on this job.

Why did I pick this job?!?