#something something throwing stones in glass houses

[ratskal]

Discoursing about which fictional characters are "morally okay" to like is dumb as fuck but nothing will be funnier than browsing the Outlast tag and seeing someone criticize Father Loutermilch fans for having a sexual predator as their fave just to go on their blog and see that they openly, unironically thirst after Eddie Gluskin

[fusgia]

what is the point in getting so upset and mad at something inconsequential that you immerse yourself fully into it and post about it All The Time and deliberately search out more things Specifically to get mad at it. do you actually have nothing better to do with your day to day life other than this. there are better and more important things in the world to focus on. like. yknow. things that make you happy.

like if someone makes a bad take or a post you dislike or you see content that upsets you why just willingly continue to look for more things you know will make you mad. its just a bizarre and miserable way to live i think.

[archiesweirdparody]

Riverdale has many issues but you will never catch me saying anything bad about it just bc everything you see about it is already hateful I have to balance it out somehow

[bogunicorn]

Being shady in public about people's custom characters in games unprovoked is and was Loser Shit. People post about their PCs because they're having fun. It's not, like, systemically harmful or anything to bag on bland or ugly OCs, nobody's identity is being attacked or anything, obviously, but something can be shitty loser behavior without being bigoted, you know? Becky making a white girl elf with pink hair and a weirdly modded face isn't harming anyone or anything, and if Becky is acting shitty and running her mouth about how much better her OC is than someone else's, her OC is not the thing causing that issue, her stinky attitude is.

Like, man, when people make custom characters, they're just vibing. It's not for you, and nobody's OC is "adding representation" or "taking representation away" in fandom. Your social obligations are how you treat other human beings, not in making custom characters for literally anybody's sake but your own. No other person in fandom "benefits" if I as a white person make a non-white OC and post pictures of them or if I romanced a relatively unpopular character, I didn't do anything with that. I also didn't do anything by making white characters or romancing a popular love interest character, either.

I am all here for harmlessly clowning, especially if it's clowning on some nonsense. But I think fandom also needs to examine why they're so overly invested in what kinds of PCs that strangers on the internet make in their video games, and why they feel the need to feed into some narrative about competition over, like, elves and dwarves and shit.

You're not ~sticking it to the man~ when you make a post that's just "if your OC is boring to me then she's ugly and you're delusional for thinking she's cool" unprompted, you're just acting like you're still in high school. Bitch about other people's ugly OCs in your cunty little group chat like a grownup. You never, ever have to like what other people have made, but "this style of OC is fucking hideous and tacky and I hate it" is, like, an Inside Voice kind of sentiment. Saying it in public where you know that the people you're talking about will see it makes you the one making people feel bad for no good reason.

[killerpancakeburger]

MammOOOOn yOU FUCKING SNITCH-

[grimm-the-tiger]

Being childfree is annoying enough as is. Being childfree AND liking traditionally childish things is worse, especially when said things are anti-childfree. Fuck you, I don’t need to justify liking Chitty Chitty Bang-Bang to you. It’s MY goofy nostalgic guilty pleasure. Go find something else about me to nitpick. 

[fappellmoan]

something that makes me feel guilty is the fact that seeing that persons face rn literally makes me angry. they walked into class and i nearly winced. and in all fairness they were quite kind to me. outside of the several kind of odd red flags. girl whatever. to be quite frank i am a horny bastard and vocal proud etc but few people interest me enough to actually want to hang out with and get to know And i have deep seated intimacy issues so it's like. we really dont have a shot unless the circumstances r exactly right on a full moon perfect thursday of a month etc like. well and tbh i probably would have fucked around with this person but i dont... care... about some big relationship w them.. and i know i could be a relationship girl like eventually i have it in me to have a muse that's what im built for i think idc but not rn... rn i need to hang out with my friends and do my film stuff and have people that maybe wanna make out sometimes is that so much to ask for. for a lesbian at a bar to want to make out perhaps. ** for there to be lesbians at the bars to potentially make out with.

[patchoulimodelo]

i think ive asked this before but what makes the monogatari franchise so popular, disclaimer that im biased here because "has fanservice of characters who are way underage" is about all ive osmosised about it

[kyogos]

Rngers and their fans still crying about the not penalty 5 days after the match is incredible, i am thriving

[schadenfreudich]

Franz will see a thin white guy with a higher pitched voice and barely any facial hair and think "oh, he's cute"

[agenttexsflippedshit]

In case you’re wondering how life is on Instagram, someone has been revealed to have scammed $56k from people on anime pins and the discord server for recovery is going as well as you’d expect

[hellhoundmaggie]

"Oh no you married the wrong imaginary computer man, he is going to ruin your imaginary computer life"

Gimmie a break

My cousin who plays Stardew came over yesterday, and I showed her my farm. I had to go inside my house to get the milk pail for my cow Deadpool, and Shane was in the kitchen, and she told me, " Is that SHANE?!! of course, you married SHANE. " And then as I continued with the game, she told me, " This is a toxic relationship. You're married to an alcoholic, I don't think that's healthy for you "

HELP????? ALSO WHAT DID SHE MEAN BY " Of course you married Shane," I DONT LIKE TOXIC MEN I SWEAR 😭😭😭 I JUST LIKE SINGLE HOT DADS 😭😭😭

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Trippin', Fallin' With No Safety Net

My headcanons of the lads men with a clumsy reader [Requested by: Anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

this man is damn near giving himself an anxiety attack worrying about you when you're not with him

covers the corner of the table with his hand when you lean down to pick something up

cuts your food for you now because you cut your finger one time and gave him a heart attack

his reflexes have sharpened from having to catch you every time you trip

keeps a pair of sneakers and flats in his car in case you drink when you two are out because he knows you'll stumble and fall in a pair of heels

would switch out his sharp cornered coffee table for an oval shaped one because you kept hitting your knee on it

places all your extra pillows on the floor on your side of the bed after you rolled off one night

keeps first aid kits everywhere because you're a walking hazard to yourself

does not let you grab a glass from a shelf you can barely reach

doesn't let you carry more than one bag because you tried to make one trip with the grocery bags and fell head first into a wall

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

still laughs every time you trip or fall "are you okay?" "stop laughing!" "I'm sorry the noise you made was funny"

holds your hand or waist when you walk up/down the stairs because you've fallen one too many times

if you drop something at the table he'll pick it up for you

gets rid of the rugs you somehow keep tripping on

is fighting for his life trying to keep you off the counters when you can't reach something

you slipped in the shower one time and gave yourself a concussion now he won't let you shower alone

subtly childproofs his house

is always confused whenever you trip, fall or get stuck "now how the hell did you do that?" "I don't know Raf help me!"

constantly pretends to toss you stuff "Think fast!" " STOP IM NOT GONNA CATCH IT!" he's already cackling on the floor

side steps you to throw you off balance on purpose; always catches you when you start falling

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

you fell down the stairs once and now he happily carries you up and down them whenever he's with you

covers the corner of the table with his hand when you drop something and lean down to pick it up

also showers with you now after you slipped one time

doesn't let your carry more than one plate

gets a google home or Alexa so you can speak to turn the lights on because you tend to run into walls looking for light switches

grabs everything you can't reach after you pulled an entire shelf down on yourself in public

sends you check-in texts to make sure you haven't hurt yourself when he doesn't see you (not that you'd admit it anyway)

is so used to your clumsiness he can almost sense when something is about to go wrong

secretly finds your clumsiness cute and now he has another reason to have you in his arms at all times

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

Sylus is probably the perfect man to be with because his evol would be perfect for protecting you

places his hand on your head when you lean down to pick something up to stop you from bumping it on anything

buys you fluffy slippers to wear around the house so your pinky toe stops banging everything in the house

wraps his evol around you when he catches you climbing on something

you cut yourself with a knife once and he hid them for only him and the chef to use after that

has the twins keep an eye on you when he's not around

replaces any tables with sharp corners for smooth edged tables

has his shower renovated with pebble stone flooring so you don't slip

takes your heels and carries you when you start stumbling

keeps a hand on your waist when going up or down the stairs

is so used to you falling all the time its almost like his evol acts on it's own to catch you

uses your clumsiness as a reason for why he should go with you everywhere

gets rid of every rug in the house and opts to get heated floors because you keep tripping on the rugs, but he knew you'd complain about the cold floors

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter two

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: backyard barbecues, the local market, and an unexpected discovery that has you wondering what exactly you may have just gotten yourself into. (5k)

warnings: angst (this early on, i know i'm sorry but it's for the plot i promise <3), lando and max f bickering like an old married couple

a/n: she's here!!!! sorry it took a little longer than expected but i hope you all enjoy this chapter :) pls feel free to come chat in my asks if you want to, i'd love to hear what everyone think about it so far!

previous chapter | masterlist

“Are these guys rich or something?”

Camille voices exactly the thought running through your mind as you roll to a stop to the address Lando had texted you yesterday, gawking out at the sprawling acreage in front of you. 

You peer at the impressive villa through the windshield, taking in everything with baited breath. She’s absolutely right. 

This house has to be two, if not three times the size of the one you’re all staying at, and that’s just what you can see so far. Vines bursting with colorful flowers crawl up white stone walls, curling around trellises of even more foliage, shutters on huge windows. There’s even a massive fountain in the middle of the courtyard, pristine marble, spewing crystal clear water in streams. 

It’s a classic old money countryside villa—worth millions, you assume, not even taking in the gathering of vintage and expensive sports cars parked along the cobblestone driveway. You suddenly feel so, so small compared to the extravagance of just the exterior of the place. 

Who are these people? 

A guy with brown curls similar to Lando’s pulls open the door when you ring the bell, in the middle of yelling something at someone further inside the house, before turning his gaze on you all. His face lights up in recognition at the sight of you. “Oh, hey, you’re the girl Lando won’t shut up about! I’m Max, but I’m sure he’s told you all about me, hasn’t he?” 

So this is Max. Lando’s told you a little about him, but mainly just funny stories. You wonder if Max knows his best friend is going around telling girls he’s just met about the time Max walked into a glass sliding door. 

“A little bit, not much. It’s nice to put a face to the name though!” You say politely. 

Max sighs dramatically, shaking his head in faux disappointment. He and Lando must be close. “I’m the best part of his life, and he doesn’t think to share it! What a knob. Anyways, welcome, come on in, make yourselves at home!” 

He ushers you all inside, leading you through the house and out huge double French doors leading to the backyard. The rest of their group sits on couches gathered around a stone fire pit, drinks in hand, chatting amongst themselves until they see you all coming. Max does the introductions between your two groups, but there’s one person missing. The one person you were looking forward to seeing again is nowhere to be found. 

Max must notice how your eyes search for Lando, because he grins knowingly. “He’ll be out in a bit. Work called.” 

“Oh, what does he do?” Samira chimes in. You fight the urge to throw a stone at her, because you know what she’s doing. She’s getting information on Lando because you haven’t got the guts to do it yourself yet. 

“Has he not told you yet?” Max raises a brow, taking a sip of his drink. When you shake your head, he presses his lips together, like he’s debating whether or not to tell you himself. “Yeah, sorry, I think I’m gonna stay out of this one. He gets pissy when I meddle with his budding relationships.” 

Budding relationship. Your face flames hot at the insinuation, but Samira takes it in stride, raising a skeptical brow. 

“What, is he in the mafia or something?” 

“‘Course not, that’s ridiculous. Pretty boy like him, he’d never make it in the mafia,” Max snorts. “No, he’s…look, it’s not really my place to say. I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready.” 

Lando materializes from inside at that very moment, brows furrowed. There’s a tic going off in his jaw and he looks a little pissed off about something, but as soon as he looks up and sees that there’s company, he composes himself in a split second. 

“Hey, guys!” He chirps, hand raising in a wave. He makes his way over to where you all are, plopping down in the empty spot beside you without hesitation. “Glad you could make it.” 

“Thanks for the invite,” Maren replies, ever the polite one. “And the coffee yesterday.” 

Max makes an offended noise from the back of his throat at his friend. “You bought them coffee yesterday? Where was mine? You never buy me coffee.” 

“Mate, you don’t even drink coffee!” 

“Maybe I would if you bought it for me!” 

The two boys continue to bicker with each other in the same way all evening, which leads you to believe this is just how they are with one another. It gives Lando another dimension in your mind, and you like it.

There are a handful of common interests amongst your friends and Lando’s, ones that spark conversation immediately. As the night goes on, it feels like you’ve all been friends for a while, and you’re glad. Part of you was worried things would be awkward between everyone, but thankfully that isn’t the case.

It passes the time quicker than you expect. Soon enough it’s nearing midnight and you’re close to nodding off onto Lando’s shoulder, fighting to stay awake and looped into the ongoing conversation despite the sleep threatening to overtake you.

It certainly doesn’t help that he exudes warmth from where you’ve wound up pressed against each other on the small couch. You turn your head to look at him, to take in the little details of him. The angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose. The smattering of moles across his face and neck.

One wayward curl hangs over his forehead, and you want to reach out, brush it away. You don’t think you’re quite at that stage of comfort with each other yet, but then he tears his attention away from the rest of the group and meets your gaze with what you can only describe as pure fondness dripping from his lazy grin. 

“You alright?” He says softly, shifting his body to face you a little more. 

You nod, because you’re more than alright. For the first time in a while, everything feels just the way it should be. “Are you?” 

“Hm?” Lando replies noncommittally, sipping his drink. “Fine, why?” 

“Earlier, after your phone call, you seemed…upset. I don’t mean to pry, I just wanted to see if everything was alright.” 

“Oh, that? Nah, that was nothing, just my boss. Wanted to talk work stuff, but I wasn’t feeling it, y’know?” He shrugs. It feels like there’s more to what he’s saying, but you don’t want to push too hard. You’re still familiarizing yourself with him. “You’re sweet to check on me, though.” 

“Okay. But if you, um, if you need to talk or anything, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Lando traces a finger briefly over the thin strap of your dress, just over your shoulder, before dropping his chin into his palm. You already know he’s about to change the subject. Involuntarily, you shiver at his touch, and he definitely notices, because he suddenly looks a little smug.

“Pretty dress,” He hums, tilting his head. 

You weren't trying to make a good impression on Lando, but you weren't exactly not trying, if that makes sense. It doesn't really make sense to you, but you’d gone for cute but comfy with a dress you’d borrowed, hoping it says you’d made an effort, but not too much of one. 

Suddenly you can’t remember what you were just thinking about not being at a certain stage of comfort with one another. Is it weird that you're secretly pleased he liked it enough to mention it?

“It’s not mine,” You say softly. Lando lets out a noise of question. “I borrowed it from Maren.” 

“Ah. Well, you should definitely get one for yourself then. It’s a nice color on you.” 

You want to say thank you, or really just say anything at all, but the moment your gaze flicks back up to his, you’re lost in his eyes again. Everything around you blurs into the background until it feels like it’s just the two of you. You’re teetering on the edge of something, and fuck, it would be so easy to just go over. To let yourself fall and fall and fall into his waiting arms at the bottom. 

Suddenly you hear your own voice in your head.

Don’t get attached. 

Clearing your throat, you pull back from Lando as smooth as you can manage with him muddling up your brain like this. “It’s late. We should get going,” You say, a tad louder than necessary. 

“She’s right,” Camille chimes in, taking note of the slight urgency in your tone. “We’ve got a guided hike in the morning—sunrise, can you believe it?” 

Lando’s mouth dips into a tiny frown for a moment, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared. He nods understandingly. “Sure. I’ll walk you out.” 

You all say your goodbyes and thank you’s, to which the boys wholeheartedly agree you should all do this again sometime before you part ways. 

Lando trails behind a bit like he’s unsure, but catches up to you quickly on the way out, shoulder bumping against yours lightly as you fall into step with each other. His hand brushes yours and lingers a little, pinkies almost intertwining. 

“Tonight was nice,” He says casually. 

“Yeah, it was,” You agree, bobbing your head. 

“Would you—I dunno, maybe want to hang out again?”

“With you guys? ‘Course we would, I’m sure the girls would love to.” You smile, casting a glance at your friends. They’ve all coincidentally already gotten into the car, but if you squint hard enough you can see them gawking at Lando and yourself through the windshield.

How very not subtle of them. 

Lando rocks on the balls of his feet almost nervously, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “No, I meant, like…just the two of us.” 

“You mean, like, alone?” 

“A date. I’m trying to ask you out on a date,” He blurts, nose scrunching. “And failing miserably apparently.” 

“Oh!” You feel your face burn hot, yet you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried. You’re about to take him up on the offer, but before you can say a word, another voice pops into the conversation. 

“Yes! She says yes! Whatever you’re asking, her answer is yes!” Samira yells through the window enthusiastically, muffled through the glass but still very audible.

Neither you nor Lando can stop the laughs that escape your mouths, especially when you turn around and all three girls are shooting you excited thumbs ups. 

“Guess that’s settled then,” You giggle, turning back to face him. 

“It’s a date.” He pushes forward, catching you by surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. As cliche as it sounds, the touch of his lips against your skin, although fleeting, sends a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. “I’ll text you later to plan, yeah? Get home safe.” 

He waits for you to pull around the circular driveway, and as his waving form gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, a glimmer of hope worms its way through you. 

In the back of your mind, you know you should keep it in check. This could be totally casual. A short summer fling that won’t hurt anyone no matter how it ends. But maybe, just maybe, it could turn into something more. 

-------

Your schedules don't end up giving you a free afternoon together until a few days later, though you come to realize it only makes you look forward to seeing Lando again even more. 

You're supposed to be meeting him at the local market in the center of town at half past one, but you find yourself there early, wanting to get a lay of the land before he gets there.

Evidently Lando had the same idea, because you spot him within the first few steps into the open air marketplace, squatting next to a stand with crates and buckets of bright flowers. He’s already got a bouquet clutched in his hands, but still he browses through the different bunches. 

“Flowers for Max?” You joke. 

Lando shoots to his feet so fast he nearly hits his head on the lightbulb hanging above, only managing to miss it by mere inches as he startles at the sudden voice. When he realizes it’s just you, he snorts with laughter. “He wishes! They’re for you, actually.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you,” He says teasingly. You don’t even know what to say. Flowers on the first date might be normal, yet nobody’s ever done it for you before. You’re touched, but he must take your silence as something else, because his smile drops the tiniest bit. “Unless you see something you like better? I can still put these back.” 

You study the flowers he’s picked out already. A little on the smaller side, it boasts a beautiful mix of both soft and brighter colors while still being simple—it’s exactly the sort of thing you would’ve chosen if you were buying flowers for yourself. “They’re perfect.” 

He pays for the flowers and passes them over to you with the biggest smile on his face, one that grows even bigger when you tuck them carefully into the crook of your arm after giving the delicate blossoms a sniff. 

You notice the camera hanging around his neck at that moment, despite knowing close to nothing about golf, you do know a thing or two about photography. “Golfer and photographer? Impressive.” 

“Amateur at best.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you're just being modest.” 

“Not even a little bit. I just enjoy taking pictures of things I like.” 

He swings around to face you fully, bringing the camera up to his eye and pausing only a second to make sure you're in focus before snapping a photo of you. The shutter clicks twice before you have the sense to hold up a hand out in front of you, a surprised laugh spilling from your mouth. Even then he grins, takes another one before lowering the camera. "What, you don't like having your photo taken?" 

“I’m just not very photogenic!” 

Lando scoffs immediately, shooting you a pointed look. “That is such a lie.” 

“I probably just broke your fancy expensive camera,” You joke. 

“We’ll just have to wait til I get it developed and see. I think it’ll turn out wonderful.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” 

“I’ll buy you dinner. If I’m right, then…you let me buy you dinner.” 

You let out a noise of surprise. “Well, that doesn’t seem very fair, does it? You’d have to buy me dinner either way.” 

“I can think of worse things than taking a pretty girl out for a nice meal.” His words take you by surprise, but judging by the smug grin on his face, Lando takes pride in eliciting a reaction from you. “Shall we?” And just like that, he’s sauntering off down the path like he didn’t just leave you at a loss for words, pep in his step even as he turns around to shoot you a roguish smile. “You coming or what?” 

You push aside the fluttering in your chest, giving your head an amused shake before catching up with him. It’s cute that he thinks he’s funny. Even cuter that he seems rather eager to take you out on a second date before the first one has even started. 

The two of you wander through the market aimlessly, stopping here and there at various stalls to have a look around. If you had the means, you’d buy everything you see. You wind up picking up some gorgeous looking fruit and a bottle of locally pressed wine, a few small souvenirs for your family back home, but the most important thing you buy isn’t even for you. 

Lando had lingered at a stall selling handmade jewelry early on, seemingly interested in a woven bracelet of blues and whites, but didn't pick it up. Part of you wonders why, but it sparks an idea in your head. 

You tug at Lando’s arm lightly, smiling guiltily when he turns to look at you. “I think I left my phone at that fruit stand a few stalls back.” 

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your body, you muppet,” He chides, shaking his head fondly. “C’mon, let’s find it.” 

“No, I can get it. Why don’t you find us something good for lunch? I’m starving.” 

“Are you sure?” Lando cocks his head, shoulder bumping against yours. “I don’t mind.” 

“I’ll be right back,” You promise. To sweeten the deal, you make the bold move of pressing a kiss to his cheek. He freezes under your touch, but you pass it off as him not expecting it and being taken by surprise. “Two minutes, okay? Maybe less.” 

As soon as you confirm he isn’t paying any attention to you, you slip back through the crowd, finding the same stall and buying the bracelet he’d been looking at. You tuck it safely into your pocket, quickly making your way back to Lando before he realizes you’ve been gone long and comes looking for you. 

“All good?” He asks upon noticing you reappear by his side. 

You wiggle your phone in the air. “Never better. What's for lunch?” 

Lando grins happily, reciting the spiel that the very friendly older man at the food stand gave to him when he’d decided on the delicious looking food. Sure, maybe he stumbles over his pronunciation a little bit, but you find his giggled embarrassment sweet. 

You find a semi-secluded bench a little jaunt away to enjoy your food, and you do enjoy it. You think it might be one of the best things you’ve ever had, and when you tell Lando, he looks pleasantly surprised. As you continue to savor every bite, Lando’s eyes light up with amusement, so much so that you wonder what’s suddenly got him all smiling big like this. 

“What?” You say incredulously. 

He gestures to the lower part of his face. “You’ve got a little…” 

Mortified, you mirror his actions on your own face, searching for the food you’ve somehow gotten smudged on your chin. After a few tries that have him shaking his head, you whine, “Help me, please?”, to which he obliges with a soft chuckle. He reaches out, thumb rubbing at the corner of your mouth briefly. 

This moment almost seems too intimate, but then again, so have a lot of moments between the two of you. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’ve still got something on your face, but then his gaze flicks down to your lips again almost imperceptibly, and you have an inkling of what’s about to happen. 

“Did you get it?” You ask softly. You’re not sure why you break the silence, but it's definitely not because you don’t want him to kiss you. If you think about it, you’ve wanted Lando to kiss you this whole time. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I got it," He replies. His hand lingers, long fingers splaying flat under the curve of your jaw now. You surprise yourself by shifting forward slightly, as if encouraging Lando to close the gap. He leans in closer and closer still, and your eyes fall shut on their own accord, heartbeat hammering against your rib cage. 

You nearly melt the moment his lips touch yours, held up only by the firm grasp of his hand cupping your face. It’s a little awkward with the food in between the two of you blocking you from pushing closer to him, but you make it work, reaching over it to wrap your fingers around Lando’s forearm. You feel like you need it to ground yourself, because holy shit, you’re kissing him. 

Well, more like he’s kissing you, because you’re definitely not the one leading the way. Lando kisses like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and judging by how you feel weak in the knees when you’re not even standing, he does know exactly what he’s doing. 

You’re falling, falling, falling, getting lost in him, until— 

“Wait, hang on,” He breathes, pulling away. Your eyes flutter open in an almost dazed sort of way, focusing on him in hopes of finding him in the same state, but all you’re met with is…guilt? Sadness? Shame? Maybe a mixture of everything, you’re not sure. All you know is that it has your heart plummeting in your chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Everything hits you at once, and suddenly you’re crashing back down to reality. Lando thinks kissing you was a mistake. You were so sure he liked you back, sure enough to go on a date with him, and now here you are with egg on your face, feeling unbelievably stupid. Hurt. 

“I’m gonna—I have to go,” You mumble, scrambling to your feet. You don’t even have an excuse prepared, you just need to get out of here, get away from Lando before you spontaneously combust from the sheer embarrassment. 

His hand encircles your wrist before you can make it even a step away. 

“No, no, don’t! Please, just let me…let me explain. I promise things will all make sense in a second, if you’ll just hear me out,” He says pleadingly. Despite your better judgment, you sit back down, expression guarded. Lando blows out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. “Look, I like you. I really like you, and I wish things were as simple as that, but there’s things I’ve not told you. Things that, if you knew, you might not want to be with me.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, burying your burning face into your hands with a muffled groan. “Oh my god, you are in the mafia, aren’t you?” 

“The—what?” Lando blurts, sounding wildly confused. “No, I’m not, I’m not in the mafia. Are you mad? I’m a Formula 1 driver!” 

You crack one eye open, then the other. “Formula 1.” You repeat, disbelieving. “Like, the racing thing?”  

He nods enthusiastically, tells you everything—how his childhood dream turned into a career, how he gets to travel all around the world doing what he loves. The fame, the lifestyle, the opportunities he’s worked so hard for, all while sounding entirely humble and grateful for everything and everyone who’ve gotten him to where he is today. 

It’s impressive, to say the least. The fact that he’s still fairly young and has already accomplished more than what some people have in a whole lifetime. Then he gets to how the chaos that doing what he does at the level he does it at wreaks havoc on other parts of his life, and you feel a wave of sympathy roll over you. 

The tradeoff for all that success is not getting to have a normal life in almost every aspect, and given the downward set of his brow as he tells you about it, this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation with someone. 

“It makes being in a relationship…difficult, is the best way I can describe it. I’m never in one place more than a week most times, and the whole time zones thing makes it harder too. And after these two weeks are up, I’m already off to somewhere else, jumping right back into the second half of the season and hitting the ground running.” 

Realization hits you like a truck at this point, and you have to fight the urge to laugh out loud. Of course Lando is who he is. Of course you had to form a connection with someone with a life as complicated and as far away from your own as possible, someone who couldn’t be in a normal relationship even if he wanted to. 

“I wish it were different, but I just—I wanted you to know what you might be getting into if we…” He trails off, but you know what he means. If we want to get involved with each other. If we want to be together. 

“So like, long distance, but infinitely harder.” You’re doing your best to put a light spin on the massive amount of new information you’ve just acquired, but you’re barely managing to process it all, let alone even think about what it would be like to date someone as well known as Lando. 

“Yeah, something like that,” He says softly, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. “It’s—well, it’s a lot of baggage for anyone to have to deal with. Lots of eyes and ears, pretty public. Not really your cup of tea, I’ve noticed.” 

He’s right. You’ve never been one to enjoy being the center of attention, preferring to fly under the radar. Blend into the background. And you hate to say it, but knowing all of what he’s just told you changes things. You don’t think you can handle being thrust into the public eye, and it makes you feel like the most selfish person in the world to walk away from him just because of who he happens to be. 

Your life would be forever altered, your sense of privacy and security gone, and that isn’t something you want to compromise. You’re comfortable being nobody significant. With Lando, that would change, no matter how many measures you take to make sure it doesn’t. 

As much as you’ve come to like him—and you really like him—it’s just not something you can see yourself being fully okay with. 

“I’m so sorry, Lando,” You say quietly. He just smiles sadly, like he already knew it was coming, and you can't help but think about how many relationships—platonic or romantic—that he's lost out on because of his status. The thought alone makes you feel even worse. “I like you too, but I can’t—I don’t think I can be what you want me to be. It’s not me, it’s not the way I can live my life.” 

“Don’t be sorry. You haven’t got a reason to be,” He murmurs, thumb rubbing across your knuckles comfortingly. “Knew it was too good to be true, didn’t I?” 

“I’m sorry,” You say again, hoping that Lando knows you truly mean it. “I wish it were different, but—”

Lando shakes his head, interrupting before you can grasp for any other ways to apologize. He squeezes your hand reassuringly again. “Hey. It’s alright, I promise. I’d never ask anyone to do something they aren’t comfortable with. Especially not you.” 

Even when he’s sad, he’s still so thoughtful. It would take a different kind of awful monster not to want to be with him. Apparently that monster is you. 

You wish you were someone else, someone who could take huge changes in stride and never miss a step, but you’re not. Someone who knows what they want and goes for it—who knows who they want and doesn’t let anything get in their way. 

Unfortunately, you’re not that kind of person. 

“What do we do now?” 

Lando drops your hand to run his fingers through his curls, down to the back of his neck sheepishly. “Dunno about you, but I’ve—d’you think there’s any chance we can still be friends? I really do enjoy spending time with you lot, we all do.” 

“Friends would be nice,” You say softly. It feels strange to agree with him so wholeheartedly. 

Maybe it’ll be awkward between the two of you, maybe you won’t even be able to sit next to each other with what’s happened today, but you can’t bring yourself to care all that much. The only thought running through your mind is that you don’t want to lose Lando, even as just a friend. 

You’ve gotten attached. 

The bracelet you’d bought Lando burns a hole through your pocket. It would be weird to give it to him now, after you’d just turned him down, but you can’t exactly just return it either. You don’t really want to. 

Maybe it won’t go to him, but you’re sure you’ll find something to do with it someday.

The girls are waiting in the living room when you finally make your way home, gathered on the sofa with identical innocent smiles like you hadn’t seen them with their heads poked through the curtains. Samira bounces off the cushions with what you can only describe as a gleeful cackle to grab your flowers, showing them off to the other two like a game show host before grabbing your hand and dragging you into the center of their blanket pile. 

You know they're expecting good news and you wish you could give it to them, but you can’t. 

“So??? How’d it go?” 

“He got her flowers, obviously it went well!” 

“Okay, spill, now,” Camille presses, easing the bouquet out of Samira’s hands and setting it on the coffee table. “What’s he like, what’d you do—” 

“When’s your second date?” chimes in Maren excitedly. The other two nod their vigorous agreement. 

“Lando’s amazing,” You sigh, letting yourself fall back against the plush pillows. “He’s super sweet and really funny, we walked around and looked at all the vendors, and then we had lunch and talked for ages, and…there won’t be a second date.”

“What? That’s impossible, you guys were like, made for each other!” 

You sigh, rub at a flower petal that’s fallen away from the bouquet. “It’s complicated. I don’t—I’m not ready to get into all of it again this soon, but long story short, our lives are just too different. Being with him would mean compromising things I’m just not ready to lose right now.” 

If any of them wants to push for a better explanation, and you know they do, they refrain from doing so. They know you’ll tell them when you’re ready. 

But even Samira can tell you’re not quite as okay as you insist you are, and she’s been rooting for you extra hard. She leans her head onto your shoulder, squeezes your hand reassuringly. “You did what was best for you, and that’s all that matters.” 

“We agreed to still be friends, so we can still hang out with the guys and stuff like that, but—I mean, yeah, it just didn’t work out.” You don’t think you sound very convincing at all, but it’s the bed you've made, you’ve got to lay in it. “I just don’t really want to talk about it right now, but it's fine. I'm fine.” 

It has to be. You have to be. You’ve made sure of it.

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[beegomess]

M.R. || Is your father at home?

Summary: Mattheo would risk himself for you, even if he had to invade your house... Warnings: Obscnity, +18, cute.

Open orders!

His family didn't hate him. No, Mattheo was the son of the Dark Lord, and although this guaranteed respect, it was not enough to make them want his constant presence. Especially when this approach involved a relationship with one of his daughters - as in your case.

Your father was always quite permissive with the boys you went out with, as long as they came from good families and were pure-blood, of course. But everything changed when rumors came to his ears that you were involved with Mattheo. A boy with a dark history, practically without a family and, worse, of mestizo blood. The news was like throwing gasoline into the fire.

It was a cold night, and the shadows of the garden trees stretched through the windows of the mansion, almost mixing with the tense air of the dining room. The oppressive silence was broken by the crack of his father's voice, who, taken by a poorly contained fury, threw the words into the air as curses.

- If I find out that you're still dating this boy, I swear by everything that you'll be taken out of that school, are you listening to me? - His voice was deep, cutting, echoing through the stone walls. He barely touched the food in front of him; the knuckles of his fingers were white, squeezing the wine glass as if he was going to crush it at any moment.

You nodded, the words stuck in your throat, knowing that facing him at that moment would be useless. But, of course, obedience was never your forte. Someone's blood status or family reputation were never factors that mattered to them, as long as the person next to them brought happiness. And Mattheo brought it.

Disobeying your father was easy; it was difficult to keep the relationship secret. Not only did you keep going out with him, but you also accepted his request to be your girlfriend. It was an intoxicating feeling of freedom, but it also brought complications. You couldn't be seen together in public, you couldn't even walk around the school with the carefreeness of the other couples. His family had eyes everywhere - colleagues, diners, security guards. It was as if they were always lurking, ready to report any slip of yours.

In Hogwarts, the situation was not much better. Each meeting turned into a mission: an exchange of glances in the corridor, hands that touched for brief moments in the middle of a crowd, whispers in the dark between the empty corridors. Sometimes, you had the help of friends, accomplices in secret, who covered your tracks or distracted the most attentive. It was a dangerous game, but it only made everything more intense.

With the arrival of the summer holidays, his father, for the first time in months, seemed relaxed. I believed I could finally stop worrying about you and that boy. After all, what could Mattheo do now, away from Hogwarts and under the constant surveillance of his family? No boy would be stupid enough to try something... Right?

Wrong. Mattheo, of course, would try. And without hesitation.

At the beginning of the holidays, your father even became the man with whom you always had a good relationship. The weight of that explosive discussion was, little by little, dissipating, and he was more affectionate, more attentive. The meals at the long wooden table became less tense again. He even smiled from time to time, and you realized that, even suspicious, he seemed satisfied to believe that you had obeyed him. But behind this relief, he still kept one ear standing, always attentive, watching, suspicious.

That particular night, the silence was absolute in the house, interrupted only by the soft sound of the pages of his book. You were already lying down, the blankets comfortably pulled up to your shoulders, and the moonlight entered through the window, bathing the room in a pale and reassuring light. The whole house seemed wrapped in a peaceful stillness, as if everyone had lowered their guards, just for a moment.

Suddenly, there was a light knock on the door. You froze for a second, but soon relaxed when you heard the familiar sound of the wood creaking as you opened. Your father came in, wearing a smile that seemed genuinely affectionate, something you hadn't seen for some time. He approached the bed with a sparkle in his eyes that, despite everything, still brought that usual paternal pride.

- Good night - he said, his voice low and almost sweet. - Sleep well. - Before leaving, he took one last look, as if he was making sure that everything was in order, and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

You let out a sigh of relief, turning your eyes to the book. But a few minutes later, a soft noise in the window caught his attention. It was a sound that shouldn't be there - as if something was scratching the glass. His heart raced, but not from fear.

You threw the book aside and got up slowly, foot by foot, to the window. As you approached, the darkness outside seemed to move, and then you saw him. Mattheo, with a crooked smile on his face, hanging precariously on the parapet. His heart jumped, between disbelief and euphoria.

He had somehow dribbled the property's protection spells, passed through the muggle world and all the security guards in his house, and climbed to his bedroom window - all just to see her. It was insane, dangerous, and you couldn't help but smile.

You quickly unlocked the window, trying not to make noise. The cold air of the night came in with a breath, you stretched out your hand, your eyes meeting Mattheo's for a brief second, before helping him balance and enter.

He crawled through the window with an almost feline agility, his clothes crumpled and his hair misaligned, but with that intense and determined look that made his heart race. As soon as his feet touched the bedroom floor, he straightened up, taking a deep breath, before pulling her into a tight hug, as if the few days apart were an eternity.

You moved away just enough to look at him, your eyes still shining with surprise and happiness.

- How did you get here? - he whispered, trying to contain his laughter as he pulled him further into the room towards the bed. - If my father knows that... I can't even imagine what he would do.

Mattheo smiled, that confident smile that always managed to make you forget everything around you. He ran his hands through his messy hair, fixing himself a little, as if the little adventure was something trivial.

- I'm smarter than he thinks. - he said, his voice down as he got closer.

His heart was still beating fast, both for the adrenaline and for the relief he seemed to transmit so easily.

His lips met his in a slow kiss, but full of intensity. The electricity in the air mixed danger and desire, as if the world outside was about to collapse, but at that moment, everything was exactly where it should be. His hands wrapped around Mattheo's neck, afraid that he would move away, pulling him closer.

Soon, the touches between you became more urgent, almost hungry. It had been some time since you were alone, and the holidays had increased the distance between you. His hands explored his curves, as if he wanted to record in memory every inch of his body in light grips and caresses under his pajamas.

Mattheo walked away, moving his mouth down his jaw and neck, depositing kisses on his hot skin. You, however, could only wrap your fingers between the wavy strands of his hair, sighing at every touch of him on you.

- I missed you so much... - Her skin shivers just with how his breath hits her, the confession makes her heart and body melt completely.

In a quick impulse, you felt him lift you up on your lap, and that pulled you a muffled laugh as it was carried to your bed. Mattheo carefully deposited you so as not to make noise, his body relaxed as he placed himself between his legs and leaned over you.

His hands touched him again, but this time his fingers groped up to the bar of his shirt, pulling the fabric up, and then you could finally feel your boyfriend's skin under your hands. Mattheo smiled mischievously at the way you stared at his body after being exposed. The icy air that had entered through the window previously had already dissipated with the heat that radiated from their bodies, the weak light that came from the clear sky through the window made it even more beautiful in your eyes, completely hypnotized with it leaning over you again.

His hands explored his body, taking off every piece that prevented him from seeing you, except for his lingerie, at the same time that his legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him even more against him. Your skin heating up even more against him, feeling how slippery you could get just by having him kissing you and running his hands over you.

For a moment, Mattheo moved his face away from his just to be able to observe his eyes when he took one of his hands to the middle of his legs, dragging his fingers over the thin fabric that still covered his skin, feeling how hot and humid it looked there now. A smile formed on his face in response, while you just squeezed your legs around his hand and sighed deeply.

- Always needy for me. - He still whispers with a smile convinced of the effect he had on his body.

That feeling was making you desperate, getting even more tearful when you felt the distance from the fabric, leaving the expectation of feeling something. But he didn't, Mattheo was fascinated by the way his hips moved trying to find more contact with his fingers, in addition to his sighs and low moans that he made a point of swallowing with a deep kiss.

However, the electricity in his body increased even more when, during the kiss, you feel him slide one of his fingers into his folds, slowly and steadily at first, exploring every detail of his walls that, for Mattheo, seemed tighter than he remembered. His lips went back down your neck, clavicles and finally reaching your breasts, just enjoying every little noise that was emitted by you.

Maybe it was the high number of weeks you were without seeing him, after all, you used to go fast, but not that way. Mattheo's lips on his body and his agile fingers working hard on his nerve point seemed to be enough to make you float, given that his legs were already tense and his walls closing around his fingers.

Upon noticing his body's reactions, Mattheo decides to slow down, provoking you to the limit, something common between the two of you. His eyes met and you could see how dark and deep his eyes were, how hungry he seemed to be for you, to the point of even using the friction with the covers to gain some kind of attention, while watching his body squirm under him.

- Matty, please... - Your voice comes out more desperate than you would like, longing for him to go back to making those heavenly movements on you.

In response, he just attacks your lips, completely moving his hand away from you. At that moment, you could swear that you were no longer in this world, letting your mind travel through the black and wavy hair that you loved so much to curl in your fingers. His mind returning only with the muffled noise of the belt jingling that quickly undid, with that, his hands flew to the buttons of the pants that Mattheo wore, anticipating his movements.

He smiled against his lips, but soon walking away and standing in front of the bed to remove the remaining clothes. You stood on your elbows, watching his every movement, practically drooling over the image that appeared to you now.

Even before Mattheo got back closer to the bed, you got up in front of him, but quickly falling on his knees, something that only made Mattheo squirm more against his own hand, which was soon replaced by his fingers and soft lips in wet kisses.

Her hair began to go around her boyfriend's fingers, who used it to keep control over her head. In a sudden movement, Mattheo felt you put it entirely in your mouth, tipping your head back with the sensation, trying to contain any eventual noise that wanted to come out of it.

The fact that he had you in front of him in his room, with his parents sleeping a few doors away, seemed to make everything even better. Having sex in situations like this was not really unusual for both of you, but now it definitely seemed euphoric, wrong and so exciting that only that made you get closer to your orgasms even faster than usual.

The movements of his lips brought him back, becoming a little faster and deeper, it was possible to feel his throat around him. This seemed too much even for Mattheo, who used to have an absurd control over himself. He held his hair tighter, pulling it out of him, seeing how his lips were shiny, combined with a small ligament of saliva bursting with the distancing.

- Look what you do to me, damn it. - He said low while smiling at the way he was now. You got up, kissing him again, but he walked away, just resting his forehead against yours and feeling his panting breath. - Bend over on the bed.

Your body fulfills that request as if it were being controlled by him, turning and bending over the soft mattress, without any concern of being so exposed, Mattheo had already seen you from almost all angles, attracting himself to each of them.

With your spine curved upwards and your face on the quilts, you feel it approaching, getting electric just with a light contact of his fingers curling around the waistband of your last piece, dragging it down on your legs.

- So beautiful. - Mattheo murmurs to himself when he notices a large mirror on the other side of the room, showing him the perfect scene, while he positions himself at his entrance.

Merlin, you wanted to shout his name when you started to feel him come in. Anyway, you couldn't contain a moan even though you were muffled on the fluffy blankets, letting out a tearful moan, the one Riddle loved to hear.

Little by little, he was deeper, finally staying there until you got used to his size. For him, it was like being completely crushed, feeling you pulsate around him and watching his lips be bitten in an attempt to remain silent. But he moved again, calmly at first, but increasing the pace while holding firmly on his hips.

And in some time, you were at the pace you were used to. Mattheo went fast and deeply, always being careful not to emit any sound between their bodies, even though he longed so much to hear them. He alternated his eyes between his body in bed and the image projected in the mirror: you in a complete mess, messy hair and slightly shiny body of sweat. Suddenly, he pulls you by the waist, leaving you standing, back on his chest, without stopping moving against you.

Your eyes were heavy, you were about to feel that wonderful sensation, but he made a point of prolonging the torture. His head hung to rest on his shoulder, but a strong hand grabbed his face in a hurry, making you wake up and see what he saw.

- Oh, fuck, Matty... - You gaspe while he smiles devilically on the skin of your neck, a little marked for you to worry only the next day.

- Ssh, you don't want your parents to hear you say these things, do you, love? - His warm breath hits your skin like gasoline in a fire. - Your father would kill me if he even dreamed of what I do with his beautiful daughter, wouldn't he? Even more under the same roof.

You only have the strength to wave positively, since he would not accept mere silence as an answer.

The movements didn't stop even for a second, in addition to one of his hands going down your belly, reaching where you needed it most, pressing precise circles in place, taking you even higher, while your nails squeezed Mattheo's arm, leaving small half moons in his extension.

His mind at this point was hazy and heavy, lying on his shoulder once again, letting himself be carried away by all the stimulus he gave you.

Mattheo could feel you approaching, it was so wonderful for him. It was as if your body restarted after each orgasm, as if he was always the first to touch you, always the cause of that. The image he watched was the most beautiful he had ever seen, you let yourself be freed, spilling all that liquid that he loved to see flowing between the two of you. Giving him the endorsement to finally paint his fair walls.

His legs just trembled, making you lean on the bed between muffled laughter when he freed himself from you. Mattheo held you to the bathroom, helping you clean yourself before they go back to bed and you rest your head on his chest, just feeling affection on your shoulder and enjoying the heat of his body under the covers.

Lying under the covers, the soft light of the moon filtered through the window, creating a magical and intimate environment. You looked at Mattheo and, with a mischievous smile, asked:

- How did you manage to get into my family's property?

He laughed, a sound that melted his heart.

- Secrets, my love. I can't reveal everything, or you'll find out.

- I missed you so much - you said, the sincerity in your voice transpiring. - I love you.

- I love you too - he replied, pulling you closer. With your head resting on your chest, you soon began to fall asleep, wrapped in the heat of the moment.

But while you slept, Mattheo remained awake, gently stroking your hair. The thoughts consumed him. How he wished things were different. I wish I could take you out, give gifts, kiss her in public without fear of the consequences. My heart tightened when you remembered the furtive nights, when you saw other boys flirting with you. The idea of his parents opening the door at any time left him in a constant state of alert, between challenge and fear.

Earlier, Theodore had revealed a conversation he had heard between his father and Mr. Not. He was talking about introducing you to a boy from a good family, someone he had already chosen. Every word resonated like a blow to his heart. The possibility of losing you was unbearable, and the frustration grew.

While you, unaware of your agony, slept peacefully, your breathing soft and serene, he looked at you, the beauty of your innocence making him promise that he would fight for both of you, no matter what happened. The determination grew inside him. Even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty, the love he felt became his strength.

And so, while you dreamed, he stayed there, vigilant, dreaming of a future where they could be together.

____________________________

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xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[felixferitas]

at the blatant admission of victor's interest, felix's face flushed, a sheepish smile tugging on his lips. he's no stranger to flirtation or being pursued, but most were so intimidated by his title and his family that they didn't dare to make a move. felix is relieved they're of similar social standing, because it was hard to explain to tohers if you weren't born in to it. he can't help but the little smile that takes shape on his face, tongue pressed between the gaps between his teeth in considering thought. "quite the charming cad, aren't you? already comparing me to artworks... not that i mind," felix teases, watching victor closely with an unwavering gaze that makes most feel daunted. relentless beams of warm sunlight cascading down on victor's face, simply because felix willed it so. a curious brow quirks up at that, subtly running his foot along the other man's ankle with a demure tilt of his head. "gods, no. daddy tried his hardest to get me into it, but as they say, you can lead a horse to water ... i do detest most old-fashioned things, but you're doing a great job of selling it, so how could i refuse? i'd love to." felix didn't care for the opera, but perhaps it was an acquired taste that would simply grow on him with repeated exposure -- plus, victor's company was enough of an incentive. he makes an affirming noise in the back of his throat, his gaze still fixed on victor as he offers a cheeky smile. "well, we can't miss out on that, can we?" his tone is playful and layered with flirtation.

❝—Well, at the moment I'm very interested in you. But of course you mean artistic interests, though I would easily put you in the same category.❞ The coquettish remarks spill from his lips with such ease as his gaze capers amongst the charmingly bacchanalian coils of Felix's dark hair, presently picturing them adorned with flowers.

❝—Let's see. Do you like opera, Felix? Call me old-fashioned, but it's a personal favourite. As a matter of fact, I happen to have two tickets to Lohengrin, one of which I've not been able to give away. Would you be prepared to join me for next Saturday?❞ His expectant glance returns to meet the other's once more. By now, he has become comfortably seated upon the surface of the table, with the graceful expanse of his legs crossed beneath him. ❝—It will be a cultural experience like no other.❞ His promise is equally soaked with playfulness. The fact that his own father would be no less than utterly pleased with the prospects of their friendship goes deliberately ignored by him.