#this has been the last few days for me lmao

[kathlare]

hopelessly devoted to you

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: On Valentine's Day in New York City, Lando and Amelie share an unforgettable evening together, filled with playful teasing, romantic surprises, and quiet moments of intimacy.

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

February 14th, 2025 - New York City, NY

The familiar hum of Lando’s PC filled the room as his stream finally went live after months of silence. The chat immediately exploded.

HE’S BACKKKKK HOLY SHIT IT’S BEEN 84 YEARS THE GOAT RETURNS 🐐 BRO WHY YOU LOOK ALL FANCY WTF Wait… is he dressed up? Where’s the hoodie??

Lando chuckled as he adjusted his headset, glancing at the chat with an amused smirk. He was dressed up—black button-down, sleeves rolled up just enough, watch on his wrist, and his hair actually styled instead of the usual curly mess. The only thing that kept him looking somewhat casual was the fact that he was still wearing his gaming headset.

—Alright, alright, chill out,— Lando said, grinning at the flood of messages. —Yeah, I know it’s been a while. Sorry for ghosting you guys. Life’s been busy, racing, traveling…— He trailed off, not mentioning the very obvious reason why he had been a little too preoccupied to stream.

LIFE = AMELIE, JUST SAY IT BRO NO HOODIE? NO HAT? WHO ARE YOU bro this is not a gaming stream this is a pre-date stream THE BUTTON DOWN??? yeah he’s got a date fr

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smirk on his lips. His chat knew him too well.

—Yeah, yeah, alright. Maybe I do have plans after this. But let’s just play some Tarkov first, alright?—

He loaded into the game, trying to focus, but the chat would not let him live.

He’s gonna die in five minutes. Calling it. Imagine sweating in Tarkov while dressed like that LMAO nah but he’s actually blushing tho, this is insane bet Amelie picked out the outfit

Lando laughed at that last comment, shaking his head.

—Actually, no. I picked this one myself, thank you very much. But she does like this shirt, so, you know… points for me.—

The game started, and for a few minutes, Lando was focused, making callouts and looting, his usual game face on. Then...

—Lan?—

The voice came from behind him, soft but sweet, and very familiar.

Lando instantly turned in his chair, and the chat went absolutely feral.

Standing at the doorway was Amelie, already dressed up for their date night. She was wearing a stunning baby pink dress, fitted in all the right places, her hair styled effortlessly, makeup done perfectly. She looked unreal.

Lando’s mouth went a little dry.

—Holy fuck.— The words left his mouth before he could even stop them.

Amelie smirked, stepping closer. —Do you like it?—

Lando just stared for a second, then let out a slow, exaggerated breath.

—Chat, I’m in trouble.—

LMAOOOO HE’S DOWN BAD BRO GAVE UP HIS WHOLE SOUL IN 2 SECONDS BLUSHING BLUSHING BLUSHING HE DIDN’T EVEN THINK, JUST “HOLY FUCK”

Amelie leaned down, resting her hands on his shoulders as she glanced at the screen.

—Oh, are you live? Hi chat!— She waved, grinning, and the chat exploded even more.

HELLO QUEEN OUR MOTHER HAS ARRIVED Amelie just casually ending this man’s whole career with a dress Bro went from FPS mode to full simp mode so fast

Lando tilted his head up to look at her, still a little dazed.

—Ames, you can’t just walk in here looking like that. I have a stream to do.—

Amelie raised an eyebrow. —Oh, do you? Because it looks like you’re completely useless right now.—

Lando blinked, glanced back at the game—where, sure enough, he had just been killed because he had completely forgotten to move—and groaned.

—Fucks sake.—

DEAD. HE’S LITERALLY DEAD. Amelie walked in and this man forgot what gaming was Bro you’re fighting for your life rn This is embarrassing for you, Lando

Amelie laughed, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. —Well, don’t take too long, cariño. Our reservation is in thirty minutes.—

She turned to leave, but not before Lando caught her hand, pulling her back just enough to look up at her with a grin.

—You’re actually trying to kill me, huh?—

Amelie smirked, leaning down until their faces were just inches apart. —Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.—

WE CAN HEAR HIS HEARTBEAT WTF NOOO THIS IS TOO MUCH bro is down astronomically “baby” oh we’re so back

Amelie finally left, and Lando sat there for a second, still looking toward the door like he was processing what just happened. Then, slowly, he turned back to the screen.

—Alright, chat. Yeah, I’m ending stream. No fucking way I’m sitting here playing Tarkov when that is waiting for me.—

AS YOU SHOULD KING DROP EVERYTHING AND GO W STREAM W MAN W GIRLFRIEND Go be a lover boy, we support it

Lando grinned as he ended the stream.

Yeah. Best decision he’d ever made.

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liked by amelieupdates, lanelieshippers, and others

f1wagsgossip: 🚨| Lando and Amelie were spotted out in New York last night for a very romantic Valentine’s Day dinner. ❤️👀

View all 9,422 comments

landomegafan: HE LITERALLY LEFT MONACO TO SPEND VALENTINE’S DAY WITH HER. That’s real love, idc.

f1tea: Not them being all cute and couple-y in NYC while we sit here surviving off this ONE blurry ass photo 💀 → speedyboi44: @f1tea seriously, we get this after waiting ALL DAY?? Do better, paparazzi.

mclarengossip: The way they went from “we don’t even talk anymore” to “flirting like teenagers in public” is actually insane. → gridgirlxoxo: @mclarengossip Right?? They were pretending they were strangers, and now he’s looking at her like she hung the damn moon.

lando.amelie.fp: Lando’s first Valentine’s Day as a public simp and he’s THRIVING.

f1fangirl23: Okay but I need DETAILS. Were they holding hands? Did they kiss? Were they giggling like idiots?? HELLO??? → pitlaneprincess: @f1fangirl23 All we got is a single blurry pic where they aren’t even standing next to each other. I hate it here.

notafan69: This is giving PR relationship. Sorry, not buying it.

f1wagsunite: Can we talk about how Amelie used to say she wasn’t into dating drivers and now she’s literally with Lando??

daymanfanclub: She deserves a man who adores her, and honestly, I’ve never seen Lando look happier. → queenamelie: @daymanfanclub FR. She’s the best thing to ever happen to him, and I need him to act accordingly.

lando4everrr: Bro, they went to the most romantic restaurant in New York on VALENTINE’S DAY and this is all we get??? A blurry ass Bigfoot sighting??

obsessedwithamelie: We saw Lando SIMP IN 4K ON STREAM and now you’re telling me we can’t even get ONE good pic of them actually together?? I’m SICK. → amelieupdates: @obssesedwithamelie We got a man literally losing his mind over her in real time and somehow this blurry pic feels like an attack.

stopwastingtime: I just feel bad for Lando. He was always so private, and now he’s dating someone who loves attention. → bestielookinward: @stopwastingtime Private??? LANDO NORRIS??? The man who was streaming his entire relationship five minutes before this???

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The restaurant was dimly lit, the golden glow of candlelight reflecting off the polished silverware and the deep red roses adorning each table. It was the kind of place meant for romance—intimate, luxurious, and absolutely perfect for their first proper Valentine’s Day together.

Lando and Amelie were seated in a secluded corner, away from prying eyes, but not away from each other. If anything, they were impossibly close—Lando’s arm draped lazily around the back of Amelie’s chair, his fingers occasionally playing with the strands of her hair, while her hand rested on his thigh, tracing absentminded patterns over the fabric of his trousers.

Lando leaned in, his voice low and teasing as he nuzzled against her ear. —You do realize you’ve barely looked at the menu, right?—

Amelie hummed, tilting her head slightly to give him better access. —I already know what I want.—

Lando grinned. —Yeah? What’s that?—

She finally turned to face him, her green eyes twinkling mischievously. —You, obviously.—

Lando groaned dramatically, letting his head drop onto her shoulder. —Ames, we’re in public. You can’t say shit like that.—

Amelie giggled, running her fingers through his curls. —Oh, poor baby. Are you blushing?—

He lifted his head, his expression mock-serious. —First of all, I do not blush. Second, if anyone should be flustered here, it’s you. Because let’s be honest, you haven’t stopped staring at me all night.—

Amelie scoffed, even as her fingers continued to thread through his hair. —Can you blame me? You look disgustingly handsome tonight. It’s actually quite rude.—

Lando smirked, sitting up a little straighter. —Yeah? You like the shirt?—

Her gaze flickered down to the black button-down he was wearing—the same one from earlier, now slightly more unbuttoned, because Lando never resisted the urge to undo a couple of them as the night went on.

—Mhm,— Amelie murmured, toying with one of the open buttons. —Makes you look like trouble.—

Lando’s smirk widened. —That’s funny. You told me earlier that you like trouble.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the way her lips curled into a smile. —Shut up and kiss me.—

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. His hand slid up to cradle her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was the kind of kiss that spoke volumes, the kind that said I love you without needing the words.

When they finally pulled apart, Amelie exhaled softly, resting her forehead against his. —You taste like wine.—

Lando chuckled. —You taste like trouble.—

—Again, you love trouble.—

Lando grinned. —I do. Especially when she’s in a pink dress and looking like the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.—

Amelie’s heart stuttered in her chest. She bit her lip, but her smile still broke through. —Careful, Norris. If you keep talking like that, I’m going to have to keep you forever.—

Lando leaned in again, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth. —Good. That’s exactly what I want.—

Before Amelie could respond, their waiter arrived, clearing his throat politely. Lando reluctantly pulled away, though he kept one hand resting on Amelie’s thigh beneath the table.

They placed their orders—steak for Lando, pasta for Amelie—and once the waiter disappeared, Lando turned back to her, his eyes filled with that familiar fondness that made her stomach flip.

—Can I just say…— He laced their fingers together, bringing her hand up to his lips. —This is the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.—

Amelie’s expression softened. —Me too, Lan.—

He tilted his head, his lips brushing over her knuckles. —Kinda crazy, huh? That we’re actually here, doing this properly? After… everything.—

She squeezed his hand. —We were always going to find our way back to each other. You know that, right?—

Lando smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. —Yeah. I know.—

And in that moment, with the warmth of her hand in his, the soft glow of the candlelight between them, and the undeniable certainty that she was it for him—Lando realized something.

He didn’t just love Amelie.

He was completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with her.

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liked by obssesedwithamelie, lando4champion, and others

f1wagsgossip: 🚨| Spotted: Lando and Amelie arriving at The Plaza Hotel after their very romantic dinner in NYC last night. 🥂✨

View all 13,489 comments

f1fangirl2000: NOT THIS BLURRY SHIT AGAIN. HOW HARD IS IT TO GET A DECENT PICTURE?? At least we got them together this time, but come on… we deserve better.

teanotlikingit: Omg we get it, they’re dating. Can we move on now?? All this attention for literally no reason... → f1hater: @teanotlikingit Yeah, who cares. Why is everyone obsessed with their every move? Feels like overkill.

bitterf1fan: Why is this such a big deal? It's just another rich, good-looking couple doing the same thing everyone else does. Not impressed.

f1tea: I’m just here waiting for a better quality picture, because this blurry mess isn’t cutting it. 🙄 → pitlaneprincess: @f1tea Same, I’m about to photoshop them together myself at this point.

f1shipper: Honestly, she makes him look like a whole different man—my dude is glowing next to her.

paddockwhispers: Just imagine them in that hotel suite after dinner... 😏 Yeah, I’m definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight. → f1gossipdaily: @paddockwhispers Someone’s definitely getting some tonight…

bitterfangirl: Nah, this whole thing still feels forced. It’s all for the publicity, I’m calling it.

starletfan: I love how their friendship is still so strong even now. It’s the perfect balance of flirty and comfortable.

gridgirlgossip: Okay, so we finally get them together in a picture, and it’s STILL this blurry? Like, what are we doing here? 😩 → popculturebabe: @gridgirlgossip Can we get a photographer that can do their job properly, please?

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

The bright lights of New York illuminated the night as Lando and Amelie walked hand-in-hand down the sidewalk, the weight of paparazzi cameras flashing as they made their way into the grand entrance of The Plaza Hotel. The sound of cameras clicking and flashes lighting up the street was almost deafening, but in that moment, neither of them cared. They were together, and nothing else mattered.

Lando leaned closer to Amelie, his lips brushing against her ear. —You’re glowing tonight, baby.—

She grinned up at him, her fingers tightening around his hand. —Stop it, Lan. You’re making me blush again.—

—Wouldn’t want that to happen. Wouldn’t want anyone else to see how much I’m obsessed with you,— Lando teased, his voice low and warm. He could see the playful spark in her eyes, the one she always had when she was around him, and it made his heart race.

As they entered the lavish lobby, the bellman stepped forward, greeting them with a courteous smile. Lando nodded, giving him a small wink as they made their way to the elevator.

Once inside the privacy of the elevator, Amelie turned to Lando with a mischievous smile. —I’m guessing this isn’t just a casual stop. What’s going on, Lan?—

Lando smirked, his hand sliding down her back to rest on her waist. —You’ll see in a minute, Ames.—

The elevator door opened with a soft chime, and Amelie stepped out, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor as they walked down the plush hallway.

When they reached the door to their suite, Lando swiped the card and led her inside, making sure she couldn’t peek.

Amelie gasped when she stepped into the room, her eyes widening in surprise. The room was decorated with elegant touches—rose petals scattered across the floor, candles flickering softly on the bedside tables, and a bouquet of red roses sitting in a vase on the coffee table. The soft glow of the lights made everything feel intimate, like it was just for the two of them.

Lando stood behind her, his hands resting on her hips as he watched her take it all in. —Surprise, baby.—

Amelie turned to face him, her eyes searching his face. —You did all this? For me?—

Lando’s grin was slow, his eyes filled with affection. —Of course, Ames. You deserve this. You deserve everything.—

Amelie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew he had a romantic side, but this was next level. She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. —Lan, this is... this is so much.—

He shrugged, his fingers brushing through her hair as he stepped closer. —You’re worth it. I wanted tonight to be special.—

Amelie chuckled softly, her gaze flickering to the bed, where another surprise awaited. A tray of chocolates, champagne, and two flutes rested on the bedspread, next to a handwritten note that simply read: For the most beautiful woman in the world.

—You really went all out, huh?— she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Lando chuckled, stepping closer so he could hold her face in his hands. —You have no idea, baby.—

Her hands cupped his face in return, and for a moment, all the noise in the world faded. It was just the two of them, lost in their own bubble of affection and love. —You’re unbelievable, Lan. Honestly.—

He kissed her then, slow and soft, his lips lingering on hers as he pulled her in closer. Amelie could feel the heat between them, the chemistry they had always shared, intensifying with every second.

When they pulled apart, Lando’s voice was a husky whisper. —I know what I want tonight, Ames. You. All night long.—

Her lips curled into a sly smile as she pressed herself against him. —I’m not saying no to that.—

—Good,— Lando replied, his hands roaming down to her waist as he pulled her closer, their bodies aligning perfectly. —Because I’m not letting you out of this room for the rest of the night.—

Amelie’s laugh was soft but full of meaning as she looked up at him. —You really want me that badly, huh?—

—You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Ames,— Lando murmured, kissing the side of her neck. —Don’t you know that?—

She shivered slightly, the warmth of his breath sending a thrill through her body. —I do now.—

They didn’t need to say much more. With one more passionate kiss, their hands were all over each other, the clothes soon discarded in a rush of heat. Lando’s lips left a trail of fire down Amelie’s neck, and she arched into him, unable to get enough of him. She had never felt so wanted, so completely adored, and in that moment, she knew nothing could come between them.

Tonight was just for them, their connection deeper than ever, and Lando wasn’t going to let go. Not now, not ever.

[multiheadcanons]

TF2 GAMEPLAY RANT: I AM A BAD MEDIC AND I WILL NOT SWITCH CLASSES.

subtitle: having fun playing games as a support main with horrible habits

i’ll stick this under a read more since it is literally me going on a full blown rant about gameplay. you can read it if you’d like! i exclusively play medic, i don’t play any other class. and the way i play medic influences the way i write him. so if you want heavily removed source musings of tf2 medic and having fun playing games, feel free to peruse yourself!

you heard it here first folks.

i am a bad medic with about 100 hours on the guy.

i am a chronic overextender with zero movement finesse, i am almost always entirely out of position— if not completely lost on the map as the team’s healer, i will favor power classes with my heals unless i can use a scout as a taxi to get closer to the front lines faster, i will run into the same sniper sightline five times and give the surprised pikachu face when i am headshotted every time before i think to take a different route, i can’t hit a crossbow shot on an enemy or a teammate at point blank, i regularly forget what team i’m on and if i’m not laser focused on spies and spychecking (see: not doing my job as a medic which is to have that medigun out and on at all times) i will die to them every single time.

i am a bad medic.

i just spent the last three hours getting my absolute shit rocked on casual badwater basin, and about thirty minutes to an hour of that getting harassed by a guy— not even on my team, or maybe he was, i don’t know lmao— about how dogshit of a medic i was.

maybe i didn’t heal him enough. i was definitely dying before i could get a full uber nine times out of ten, and i have a horrible habit of running directly into fire on the field, and i cannot time an uber to save my life or my team’s. there was a point where there were four medics on the team and i had to genuinely ask myself damn… am i really that bad of a medic?

we were getting our asses kicked. so bad. it wasn’t even funny.

but here’s the thing: i was having fun.

even with three other medics joining me in the joyless work of healing the team and not dying and popping your uber right when it’s needed and not dying before you get the uber and not wasting the uber (i died so many times with an unused uber bc i didn’t know when to use it to best help the team) and checking your back for their spy running around with the YER not to mention the rest of the enemy team which is for some reason functioning like a well oiled machine while we have taken an active hit to our damage output because we now have four medics—

or maybe i just suck.

but i had fun.

support classes, healing classes in any fps really are for the people like me— who can’t hit a shot and frankly refuse to learn. for the people who don’t want to be directly in the action, because we refuse to learn how to aim on a computer, so we are easy pickings for anyone who has half a braincell and working eyes and minimal carpal tunnel, but close enough to it that we see the carnage. people who cannot reliably toggle through weapons, are trying to learn the maps, can’t jump high enough to even reach some of the places the other mercs are and at this point are too scared to ask.

and it makes me think of the other day, when i hopped on for a few hours and (after dying repeatedly) saw multiple messages through the chat with what i could only think at the time were sarcastic jabs at a medic, there was two at the time and i was the one dying, so you know— if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck…

it’s not been my week on the servers, i think. but i am still having fun.

i love playing medic. i am normally the only or one of two medics on a team at any given time. and i like it that way. and i love having a second, better medic on the team. i try to study them, see how they stay alive so long. it’s hard in the heat of battle. but i’m dead half the time so i’m watching through the killcams anyway. and it looks to be a lot of staying behind corners, standing, crouching, watching, waiting. and that’s… fair.

i just don’t want to play that way.

i love the way i play medic more than i actually want to be strategically good and effective to the maximum extent as a medic.

i love jumping into the heat of the front lines, getting that soldier that’s at 22 as he falls back to reload then quickly moving to the scout at 10 to get him the fuck out of dodge so he can get to a medkit and maybe if i’m fast enough getting to the demo at 64 and taking more damage and dying anyway to the sniper before the payload even reaches the next checkpoint, hearing the ding of the checkpoint captured while i wait to return to the realm of the living. i love getting lost on the maps, standing on an empty edge of the map as the team is yelling for me, and i’m not listening. i love taking in the scenery. i can’t help but laugh when my kamikaze stunt of jumping in puts me in the middle of the enemy team. i love making batshit pushes for intel with two heavies. it is a rush to place myself behind aggressive players and do my best to keep them alive. i screech when we succeed. and i feel as though i am a good sport. if a spy gets me, they got me! that’s on me and my team for not spychecking! we know they exist!

and i like having aggressive and knowledgeable players help me and in extent the team by telling me what to do! i am a support class! i am not supposed to even be on the front lines! tell me when to pop my uber! tell me which way we’re flanking! warn me if you peek the corner first and see the entire team charging at us! i am your doctor! i will throw myself in front of those bullets and die happily if it means you will get those extra hits! i will be back shortly! just don’t die before then! let me know when i’m overextending, when i need to fall back, i want to be a good medic, i want to be the most use to my team i can be!

but i also want to have fun! i just don’t want to learn how to aim!

i am just the healer. and my motto is if you’re taking damage and you’re by the payload or on a point you are my top priority. if my job is to heal you, and we’re on payload, get to the cart, because that’s where i’m headed if i’m not there already. if you want to push for the intel on 2fort even though they have five sentry nests put up but you need a doctor to try to keep three to four of you alive as long as possible to at least bust two of the sentry nests, though you’ll settle for one, i’ll be right behind you each step of the way. and honestly, know that i am a bad medic! my doctorate is in crayon and the syringe gun is for show! i’ve never consensually removed a body part in my life! i’m here to have a good time and die a whole lot doing dumb shit!

and i will not switch to soldier. i will not switch to pyro! i will not switch to a class i don’t want to play, an “easier” class, a “less important” class and leave the team down a doctor entirely in the hopes someone better decides to pick the class! i like to play the medic! i want to play the medic! in fact, i almost like being a bad medic more. anytime someone groans about a bad medic i snicker a bit, and i heal them less.

appreciate the medigun or die without it.

anyway. remember when playing games was fun and people didn’t act like they were getting paid for the shifts they put in on team fortress 2? i initially titled this “medic and spitting in the face of meta to embrace in the arms of theme” because it is essentially what i do. i stomp all over the meta of what it means to play a support class, what it means to be a healer and heal your team to instead do team fortress 2 battle roleplay and giggle the whole time. and again, i acknowledge i am a bad medic. but dammit, people get healed. and when the shit works, it works. and the feeling i get can only be matched if i injected meth directly into my bloodstream and took five bumps of coke. because i like to have fun when i play my sexy german man. i follow the better medics so i can die before them. im like bait for the enemy team. even if i can’t make it to the full uber, what you don’t know is there’s another medic behind me about to pop. but back when i first started playing i was exclusively a battle medic. the medigun never touched my hands. i was just a stock medic running around bonesawing people.

so maybe it truly is old habits dying hard.

i’m still having fun either way

and i won’t switch classes.

and truly, am i that bad if all the medics are averaging the same amount of heals?

like if it’s just me and i average 10k heals, and another medic joins and we both average 5k, and another one joins and we’re each averaging 3-4k; is it the medic sucking caged cock and balls or is the team just not as good as they think they are?

but that’s a rant for another day. i’m gonna stop it here.

anyway. pick a class, and if you like playing it, don’t change. play until you get better.

and if you end up on or against my team, know i’m not gonna be mad if i die to your YER forty times. i also won’t be mad if you take me by my scruff and say i’m your medic. i’ll do my best to stay by your side. don’t die without me.

and if you’re an enemy medic i will never attack you as a medic i’m sorry you will never get your medic on medic fight. all enemy medics get free bottomless kills on max if you can catch me to do so and don’t put yourself out of position in my team.

i’ll fucking destroy you as a pyro though. don’t pray too hard for those random crits because my w + m1 is constant.

[10-dutchies-12-bicycles]

three ships: royjamiekeeley has been on my brain :3c rajalagang too <33333 and ive been reading some zukki fics the past two days. lmao polyships are on brand for me i guess

last song: aishiteru by callin'

last movie: i finally watched knives out and got like halfway thru glass onion

currently reading: LAST WEEK I READ THE FIRST PAGE OF IRON WIDOW!!!!!! if everything goes well i might be able to read the second page sometime in the next few weeks :3

currently watching: sakamoto days! i need to begrudgingly admit that yeah everyone is right. this IS a good show innit. also slowly making my way thru apothecary diaries and i also started watching jujutsu kaisen

currently consuming: air 👍

currently craving: SLEEP T_T bc its almost 4 am OK BYE <3

Get To Know Me Tag Game!

No one tagged me in this, I'm just starting it, here we go lol

Rules: Answer the questions tag nine people you want to know better!

Three ships: Jayvik (Arcane), Stolitz (Helluva Boss), and Steven/Jake/Marc (Moon Knight

Last song: Lalala - bbno$

Last movie: Wicked

Currently reading: Touching a Nerve - Patricia Churchland

Currently watching: Severance (not the new season yet, my dad and I are gonna watch that together!)

Currently consuming: Jayvik fanfiction :D

Currently craving: Chocolate. Specifically Andes chocolates lol

Tagging: @milkywaysipper @tseecka @tophat-69 @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @arcaneheraldslawyer @voxconcordia + Anyone else that wants to!

[ninjasmudge]

red flags! 🚩🚩

this goat design belongs to @revenhaunted bc she made her goat so fun and a little nuts and im obsessed. weve talked abt them a lot and this song fits their vibes SO well

[triglycercule]

horrortale waterfall game broke me sorry (hey just like horror!)

[micamicster]

Super Rich Kids

Close my eyes and feel the crash...

I wrote this one on post-its on a trans-continental flight after my phone (where i was re-reading the raven cycle) died. 0/10 plane experience would not recommend but I did manage to entertain myself! And now hopefully you as well!

When Ronan pulled into Monmouth Manufacturing he knew Gansey wouldn’t be there. Adam Parrish was, though, sitting on the steps in the golden afternoon light, bike dumped to the side in dying grass. He didn’t so much as flicker an eyelid when Ronan bootlegged the BMW into an approximation of parking on the far side of the lot, which was fine because that’s how he would have parked the car anyway, whether or not Adam was here.

Ronan was pretty sure that Gansey had arranged a shift system with the other boys, to prevent Ronan from being unaccompanied on the rare occasions of his own absence. The idea of a babysitter should have rankled Ronan, but Adam did not seem particularly invested in his role. Small favors.

As he got out of the car he gave Adam his customary once-over, as brief as it was habitual. You could notice a lot in a single glance, if you were Ronan, glancing at Adam.

Adam was wearing long sleeves (his father? Or just because it was October?) and his faded camo pants, the ones Ronan said made him look like a jingoistic meathead. They had recently acquired a tear in one knee. Not in the stylish, deliberate manner in which Ronan’s own jeans were shredded, but awkwardly, in an L-shape, where they had caught on some jagged edge and given way before even careful Adam had noticed and unhooked himself. The tear gaped open at times, like it was doing now, revealing Adam’s knobby left knee and, worse, a triangle of his brown thigh.

Ronan looked away.

Ronan never allowed himself, even in dreams, to trespass beyond the carefully demarcated boundaries of Adam’s clothes. And Adam was usually helpful in the maintenance of this boundary. Unlike Gansey, who could be found working on his model Henrietta in boxers at all hours of the night, or wandering to and from the shower in a towel, absent-mindedly forgetting his clothes in bathroom or bedroom. Unlike the boys Ronan played tennis with, who stripped down casually in the locker room after practice. Unlike even Ronan himself, who’d never met a shirt he couldn’t rip the sleeves off; Adam was always fully covered.

This summer, foolishly, Ronan had imagined that this might change. Now that the hideous secrets Adam protected with his long sleeves were no longer his alone. But by now he knew what kept those sleeves in place, something that Adam had already understood: that knowing and seeing are two very different things.

For example: this. Ronan knew that Adam, like most people who walked around on earth under their own power, possessed thighs. Two of them, attached in the normal way to other body parts, such as knees and hips. To know this was one thing.

Now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t stop seeing it. The way his knee bent, and the muscle above shifted as Adam made room on the steps for him. Ronan was looking away, out at the familiar, grounding, skid marks on the concrete of Monmouth’s lot, but he could picture in their place with deadly accuracy the hinge of Adam’s knee, the tanned skin of his thigh, scattered with golden-brown hair. He could dream about pressing his face against it.

He picked up a rock and hurled it. It glanced off the side of the soulless suburban and fell anticlimactically into the grass dying by the rear tire. It didn’t help.

Adam shifted next to him, subtly.

“What?” said Ronan. “Impressed?”

“Surprised, more like. I thought you were supposed to be the tennis star.”

“You think you can do better?” Ronan pried another hunk of gravel or concrete out of the dirt and tossed it in his left hand, tauntingly.

“I know I can.”

“But?”

“But,” said Adam, with some hint of exasperation coloring his voice, “I’m not going to sit here chunking rocks at Gansey’s car to prove it. My ego’s not that fragile.” His accent slipped out on chunkin’, not as if Ronan had pissed him off enough to forget to hide it, but as if it was a word he’d never used any other way.

Ronan threw his rock again. This was, if anything, a worse throw than before, and it skittered harmlessly across the suburban’s roof.

Adam made a small but contemptuous noise.

“Don’t give me that shit, man. You know he hates this fucking car.”

“That was for your shitty aim.”

“Come on then.” Ronan hefted another piece of gravel. “Ten points if you knock out his taillight.”

“It costs a hundred and five dollars to replace a taillight on that make and model. Plus tax.”

Ronan’s brief cheer was collapsing again. “I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to bust Dick’s lights.”

Adam blinked slowly, his dusty eyelashes obscuring the contempt in his eyes for a brief moment. “I’ll leave.” (He wouldn’t).

Ronan dropped the rock. Next to him Adam sighed. Abruptly, he put out his hand. “Telephone pole. Six feet from the top.”

Ronan swept back up the rock and dropped it into his hand. Their fingers did not touch. His heart thudded.

Adam tossed the rock once, testing its weight while his gaze, cool and assessing, remained on the telephone pole. It was a splintered, tilting thing, shamed by his attentions. In one smooth, economical movement, he rose to his feet and let the rock fly. His leg went forward, knee jutting out of his clothes, his back curved, and his arm swept around in an arc, fingers scraping at the blue October sky. Ronan didn’t need to turn his head to know if the rock hit—he could see it in the brief hard satisfaction on Adam’s face.

Adam turned back to him, one eyebrow cocked.

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to earn that hundred,”

Adam shrugged. The gesture was disinterested, but there was a quirk to his mouth that contradicted it. “I know nothing blew up, but…”

Ronan already had another rock in his hand. “West corner lightbulb. It breaks or it doesn’t count.” Adam rolled his eyes, but turned agreeably to watch Ronan miss.

“Would you like to get your tennis racket?”

“Eat me,” said Ronan. (Maybe).

They traded shots back and forth for a while, calling increasingly specific and complex plays.

“Bullshit. Bullshit.”

“Get the government to pay for some glasses, Parrish, and then come back and try to tell me that wasn’t a fucking bullseye—”

“It wasn’t even close! You—”

“You calling me a liar?” Ronan loomed, and Adam, as usual, was unimpressed.

“Just because you don’t lie doesn’t make you right all the time! Like when you said that quote on Tuesday was Seneca. It doesn’t stop being Martial just because you’ve got a child’s sense of morality—”

“See, right there.” Ronan pointed triumphantly at an invisible scuff mark on the doorsill, marking where his handful of gravel had made impact.

Adam gave it a skeptical glance. His face was faintly flushed from exertion in the cold air, but his eyes were as cool and considering as ever. “What we need,” he said, “is a knife.”

Ronan was not allowed knives.

~

“Are you trying to stab each other in the feet? Why are your shoes off! It’s October!”

“Equal playing field.” Ronan wiggled his toes against the cold asphalt. “Parrish’s shitty knife is no match for my boots.” Over Gansey’s head, Ronan tried to catch Adam’s eye, to share a ‘can you believe him’ sort of look. Adam’s embarrassment over being caught acting irresponsibly meant Ronan could expect the look to be rebuffed, but he couldn’t help himself from trying it anyway.

Adam was bent over, eyes hidden. He carefully dusted off his socked feet one at a time before sliding them back into his shoes, as though the socks or sneakers could look any worse. A little parking lot crud might improve their appearance, actually.

Next to him, Gansey was still fussing. Without the pressure release valve of eye contact with someone who knew Gansey was overreacting, Ronan snapped, “Come off it, man, I’m not going to slit my throat while Parrish watches. He can’t afford that caliber of snuff film.”

Gansey’s concern transformed into revulsion, but underneath it he looked hurt, which was far far worse.

Adam straightened up. “We were just using it to mark where we hit. Honestly, we could have done it tossing a sharpie, but neither of us had one.” He sounded conciliatory, which pissed Ronan off. But Gansey was letting it go, returning the knife to Adam with an apologetic smile. Sorry for the fuss. Sorry for Ronan. Ronan’s bare feet were cold against the asphalt.

“Well? Are you going to throw or not, Parrish?” he said belligerently.

Adam rolled his eyes, but obligingly stooped for gravel and let one fly at Ronan’s open bedroom window, a shot he made easily.

Gansey whistled. “You’ve got quite the arm on you. How come you’re not on the Algionby baseball team?”

Adam shifted his feet, awkwardly.

“Please,” scoffed Ronan, “he’s not a team player.”

Gansey did not let it go. “Bet you’d have a better fastball than both our pitchers.”

There was a pause, during which Adam’s face clearly showed all of the thoughts he was trying to corral into a polite response to Gansey’s unconsidered enthusiasm. Ronan got there first. “Yeah, Parrish, why not hitch your wagon to the star of organized sports, like every other rags to riches wannabe?”

“Ronan!” said Gansey, Ronan’s offensiveness registering where his own had not.

“Hitch my wagon to a star?” Adam was unruffled. “I thought quoting Transcendentalists could get you excommunicated.”

“Who said I know it’s Emerson. It’s a sourceless idiom to those of us who aren’t sad little nerds.”

Adam smirked. The smirk said, I never said Emerson. His words said, “Gansey’s damning me with faint praise. No one’s going pro out of an Algionby sport team. Even tennis.”

“Ouch,” said Ronan, cheerfully. “Hit me where it really hurts. My school pride.”

~

Now that Gansey had arrived, his plans for the day took precedence over noble pastimes such as flipping pocketknives at each other’s feet. His plans involved comparing readings from various instruments and then placing said various instruments in various new locations, all of which were equally arbitrary (to Ronan’s eyes) and inaccessible. Gansey’s plans involved him waiting by the car to monitor the readings while people hiked with antennae to the outermost reaches of the signal. People, in this instance, being Ronan and Adam, Noah having mysteriously and silently fucked off, as he so often did when a job required carrying anything.

Ronan put his head down and trudged. It was brambly here, and slightly damp, and he was beginning to work up the kind of counter-intuitive sweat that appears from working in the cold, the kind that makes you colder later.

As the person leading the hike, custom would dictate that he should catch and hold the long clinging arms of the brambles for the following hiker. This presented a dilemma. Ronan compromised, and set about stomping the multiflora into the ground as he walked. Scarlet hips burst under his feet, invasive and beautiful, spreading their millions of seeds across the damp earth. Noxious weeds.

“It’s too unreliable,” said Adam, into the silence. “Sports. It all depends on… your physical condition.”

“And your condition is shit.”

There was Adam’s ironic smile. “Yes. So.” He shrugged. There was the part they weren’t saying, which was that his physical condition could always get worse. Unexpectedly.

“My dad hates baseball.” Ronan heard himself make the slip—hates and not hated—and a spark of fury burned through him, brief and inconsequential.

“My dad loves it.”

They marched on in silence.

Adam swore as a bramble Ronan had beaten down sprang up again, catching him right across the tear, where his skin was exposed. He bent to unhook it from the camo with deft, deliberate hands. “What?” he said, like he could feel Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan looked away. “Why not the military?” He kicked purposelessly at the bramble and heard Adam sigh. “And don’t tell me you never thought about it. Test scores like yours out in hicksville high school, you must have had recruiters hopping all over you like fleas.”

“Would you believe I had a moral objection?” Adam’s smile was self-deprecating. Ronan studied it.

“No.”

Adam shrugged. It, too, was self-deprecating.

“I think you had a superiority objection. You think you’re too smart for that shit.”

Adam blinked at him. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

Ronan snorted. “Hell no. You can do better than getting blown up in a desert for the United States government.”

The smile, when it came, was small and stunning. “Damned by faint praise again.”

[seitmai]

“Are you going to get up or what?”

If someone had already called out sick for me, I definitely would not get up lmao

“I can’t believe you did that,” you reiterate when you hop in his car. “They can’t say no to the senator,” he smirks, leaning over to give you a kiss. It’s easy to act annoyed with him, but everything he does is endearing. Including this stunt. He spent the last few days in D.C. and could easily be home sleeping after getting back late last night, but instead, he’s determined to spend the morning with you. 

Urgh yeah that is kinda cute, but just kinda because I personally just really dislike mornings lol

You can’t help but mutter about how cold and tired you are. It’s probably every couple hundred feet, but who’s keeping track…

Mood hahah

As if he didn’t spring this whole excursion on you while you were more than half asleep… The glare you give him has him holding his hands up in defense, wisely choosing to stop talking. 

Good choice

“It is really pretty,” you admit quietly, leaning closer to him again.  “Yeah, it is,” he smiles. But he’s not looking in the same direction. You can feel his gaze on you.  “Are you looking at me right now?” You ask quietly, sighing before looking beside you and having your suspicions confirmed. “Cheesy.”

But who doesn't love a really cheesy moment like that here and there 🥰

“I’ve been ready to do this for a while, and I’m tired of waiting,” he starts. “Everytime we spend a few days apart, I miss you more than I ever even imagined possible. I know I threw you for a loop this morning, but I couldn’t wait to see you. Especially so I could ask…”

“I’ve been such a bitch all morning,” you whisper, thinking about how short you’ve been with him and how much you’ve complained. “God, I’m sorry.”

Haha but I get it and if Andy wants to marry her he probably knows her well enough to know that this would probably happen 😅

He lets out a laugh like a sigh of relief, pulling you close again to wrap his arms around you reassuringly. “It’s okay,” he promises, holding you tight. “I know you’ve been under so much stress. If I could, I would take it all off your shoulders.”

🥰🥰🥰

If you ever feel up for it, I would like to read more about these two 😍

Can't Say No

Pairing: senator!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: Andy’s romantic gesture catches you on an off day, but it doesn’t keep him from wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. 

Warnings: None

Word count: ~1,100

a/n: This was an idea I had yearssss ago for this series, but it can be read alone atp. Enjoy 🩵

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The loud ring of your phone startles you awake. Based on the darkness still filling your room, you can tell it’s not your alarm yet. You groan as you reach for the device and rub your eyes when you see Andy’s name on the lit up screen. 

“What?” You answer in a short tone, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Well good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” he teases. 

He knows if you saw the smile on his face, you’d roll your eyes. 

“Get up,” he says before you can get mad at him for waking you up. “We’re going for a hike. Gonna see the sunrise.”

“Andy…” You grumble, hiding your face against your pillow. “I have to go to work though. I don’t have time.”

“I called in for you,” he assures. “You’re not going in today.”

“What? You can’t just do that…”

It’s almost comical. You’re dangerously close to dropping your irritated facade and laughing at him. 

“Well, I did, so…” 

Silence on your end worries him that you’ve managed to fall back asleep during the split second of silence he gave you. 

“Are you going to get up or what?”

He hears a small groan. Promising. He has to work a little harder. 

“I’m in your driveway, by the way. Did I mention that?”

“Oh my God,” you chuckle, letting out a quiet, frustrated sigh. “Give me a couple minutes, okay?”

When he hangs up, you have to put in a lot of energy to sit up and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. You’ve been under a lot of pressure at work, deadline after deadline constantly looming over you. Maybe a day off isn’t such a bad thing. But you can’t help but feel like it’s the worst time to do it. 

You do your best to let it go for now though and get ready. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” you reiterate when you hop in his car. 

“They can’t say no to the senator,” he smirks, leaning over to give you a kiss. 

“Please tell me you didn’t pull that card,” you mumble against his lips, wincing at the thought. 

“I’m kidding,” he laughs. “I told them you lost your voice, that’s why I called for you.”

“Oh, thank gosh.”

It’s easy to act annoyed with him, but everything he does is endearing. Including this stunt. He spent the last few days in D.C. and could easily be home sleeping after getting back late last night, but instead, he’s determined to spend the morning with you. 

He tells you to rest as he backs out of your driveway. And he surely doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re too tired to even ask where he’s taking you. You drift off pretty much instantly. 

You gain consciousness for just a moment when you feel him reach over and gently pull your hood up to protect your head from the cold car window you’re leaning against. 

You don’t have a clue how much time has passed when you feel yourself waking up again. This time, you peek out the window, and you can tell he’s pulling over. 

It’s a trail you frequent, usually not on such cold mornings though. The air has a crispness to it when he helps you out of the car and you huddle against his side as you start the trek. 

You can’t help but mutter about how cold and tired you are. It’s probably every couple hundred feet, but who’s keeping track…

You’re lucky Andy knows not to take it personal. 

He stops you once you guys reach an open area, pulling you to the edge of a cliff where you can see the sun starting to come up and light the sky. 

“Fuck,” you murmur through chattering teeth. You bring your hands up to your face to blow warm breath into your palms. 

Andy doesn’t think before he asks, “Why didn’t you bring mittens?”

As if he didn’t spring this whole excursion on you while you were more than half asleep…

The glare you give him has him holding his hands up in defense, wisely choosing to stop talking. 

The longer you stand there, the peacefulness chips away at the bitter mood you’ve got going on. 

“It is really pretty,” you admit quietly, leaning closer to him again. 

“Yeah, it is,” he smiles. 

But he’s not looking in the same direction. You can feel his gaze on you. 

“Are you looking at me right now?” You ask quietly, sighing before looking beside you and having your suspicions confirmed. “Cheesy.”

He surprises you when he reaches for your hands. There’s a slight tremor in his as he guides you to turn toward him.

“I didn’t come here to watch the sunrise…”

A look of confusion washes over your face. “What do you mean–”

“I’ve been ready to do this for a while, and I’m tired of waiting,” he starts. “Everytime we spend a few days apart, I miss you more than I ever even imagined possible. I know I threw you for a loop this morning, but I couldn’t wait to see you. Especially so I could ask…”

You freeze–not from the cold this time–as you realize what he’s doing. 

Your eyes follow his as he drops to one knee in front of you and shows you a ring that you didn’t even notice him grab. 

“Will you marry me?”

“Oh, Andy,” you gasp. 

You’ve never said yes to anything so quickly. You don’t even give him time to put the ring on you before you’re pulling him back up so you can hug him. 

He’s smiling ear to ear when he eventually pulls away just enough to slip the jewelry on your finger. 

It glimmers back at you, but your smile fades into a pout, catching Andy off guard. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been such a bitch all morning,” you whisper, thinking about how short you’ve been with him and how much you’ve complained. “God, I’m sorry.”

He lets out a laugh like a sigh of relief, pulling you close again to wrap his arms around you reassuringly. 

“It’s okay,” he promises, holding you tight. “I know you’ve been under so much stress. If I could, I would take it all off your shoulders.”

“Thank you,” you sniffle. It’s partly from the cold, but mostly an overwhelming amount of emotions. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[tetzoro]

good morning & happy friday friendz (ㅅ´ ˘ `) we have made it to the end of the week !! i hope you all have a wonderful day and an amazing start to your weekend !! friendly lil reminders : ෆ drink water ! unclench your jaws ! blow a kiss to the sky ! be gentle with yourself ! ෆ

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[elliscousland]

i hope everyone had a wonderful new year celebration!!! it's been a really wonderful year of friendships & creativity. i'm not always super good at putting the entirety of my feelings out there but i feel like this year has just been a time of self & mutual discovery w the people around me & for that i am so, so, so thankful. here's to all the new things we'll learn this year too <3

[corderis]

i am so so close to being able to enjoy the holiday we're SO CLOSE

[dickgreyson]

one of my essays from back when i studied philosophy is being put into a good answers guide at my university<3 not one of my good ones but

[hopecomesbacktolife]

thinking of rereading the entirety of HoME again. for my health

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

So about the season 4 finale shenanigans, where rg and the cast had no idea it was coming, so the rest of the cast was texting rg like “ARE YOU LEAVING THE SHOW???” and he was going “NO, IDK WHAT’S GOING ON EITHER!!!” and him texting Tim asking if he was being fired. And then we got Tim saying that Eddie was too pretty to die. I just told my homophobic mother all of this. Her response? She asked me if Tim was gay😭😭

[anichibicore]

unfading sin

[easyaesthetics]

Imitates human behaviors to an uncanny degree, Akira remembers from the lab notes. Mimic skill on par with any natural predator that imitates another animal to lure in prey.

Scene from the amazing mermaid fic, I like to think I’m a good person by @relationshipcrimes (READ THE TAGS BEFORE BEGINNING)