#though maybe that says more about me than it does anything else

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

That’s Not What Friends Do (part 1)

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating

Request: Lando and the Reader have been best friends since they were babies. Lando has been in love with the Reader since he was a teenager, which is why he has never had a serious relationship. He has flings with girls, but nothing serious. On the other hand, the Reader has been in love with Lando for the past one to two years but thinks he doesn't like her that way, which is why she doesn't propose. Lando is very protective of the Reader, and the Reader is equally protective of Lando.... She knows he sleeps around and is protective of him in a way that she advises him to be smart about who he sleeps with and to stay out of the headlines for anything other than racing. The story starts after the Brazil race, where Lando had a tough time and went without sleep for 24-48 hours. When he returns from São Paulo, he finds the Reader already there, ready to comfort him after a bad race. - I changed it up a bit adding Charles into the story, but I hope you still like it!

"Oh, yes, yes, yes-ah.." The girl moans breathlessly into the pillow as Lando animalistically continues pounding her from behind.

"Just like that, Lando, give it to me" She continues talking even though Lando hates hearing it.

He hates the way his name sounds coming from her lips. He also hates that he's giving her what she wants. And most of all, he hates the fact that once again he's fucking someone else, imagining it washer.

Once he closes his eyes and thinks of your innocent face, it sends him over the edge, he twitches pulling out his cock and cumming inside the condom. "Fuck.." He moans throwing his head back as his thighs shake.

"You didn't have to pull out, you know? You have a condom on anyway" The girl smirks turning to look at him and trying to pull him down to her.

Lando doesn't say anything, he raises his eyebrow at her, barely keeping himself from rolling his eyes at her stupid comment.

He's been with so many girls he can't even count them, but even when he's drunk out of his mind, protection is a must have. He's not fucking around when it comes to that, not when he doesn't even know half of those girls' names. Nor is he interested in their names. All he cares about is emptying himself, giving himself a short-term pleasure and maybe just maybe running into someone who is at least slightly similar to her.

"You're not gonna stay?" The girl asks when he gets up from the bed and starts pulling his pants up.

"No, sorry, I gotta go" With curt, almost no explanations, he always leaves minutes after he finishes. Not that he's proud of it, but to be honest, he doesn't care either.

On the other hand, y/n doesn't spend her free nights the way Lando does. She doesn't fuck around with guys to keep her mind off Lando because she knows that's impossible in a way.

Although she spends some of her evenings wishing she had never seen that article a year and a half ago. It was a perfectly normal Monday night, the day after the race, when after a long flight she finally lay down on her couch, snuggled under the blanket and started scrolling through her phone. At one point, her best friend Ruby sent her an article titled "Friends"? and a picture of y/n and Lando that y/n hasn't stopped thinking about ever since.

The picture captured the moment when, after the race, Lando had both arms tightly wrapped around y/n and was kissing her temple with his eyes closed.

At first it seemed like an ordinary picture, I mean it wasn't the first time they shared a close moment like that before. After all they're friends? Friends do that, right? But the longer y/n stared at it, the more it awakened something in her that hadn't been there before.

When she found herself thinking about Lando and herself at night to fall asleep, she realized she was in trouble because she knew she was in love with her best friend. But since she also knew that the night she was staring at their picture, he was fucking some girl because he himself had told her he was meeting her that night, y/n knew she had to suppress her feelings.

That's where y/n had a little help named Charles.

"Where were you?"

Y/n startles almost screaming when she walks into her apartment and turns on the light revealing Lando on her couch.

"Oh my God, Lando!!" She said, barely able to catch her breath as she held her hand over her heart thinking it would jump out at any second. "You scared the shit out of me! How did you get in here?"

"You gave me the key?"

"I did, but to use it in case of emergency only!"

"You not answering my calls is an emergency" He says and you roll your eyes at him as you take off your shoes. "So?"

"So?" You mimic him.

"Where were you?"

"I was" You sigh. "On a date."

"You were on a date?" He asked a little panicked, following you like a puppy into the kitchen where you had gone.

"Mhm" You mumble, avoiding his gaze. "Ready to conquer Brazil?" You ask trying to change the subject.

"Who were you on a date with?" He asks not dropping it.

"Can we please not talk about it?" You sigh. You really had no intention of telling him anytime soon that you were seeing Charles. You knew Lando was never much of a fan of Charles. Although the reason for that was never clear to you, Lando had actually seen the way Charles secretly looked at you on a couple of occasions, and he confirmed his suspicions when Carlos told him that Charles had said he wanted to get to know you better.

"Why not? Since when am I not allowed to know who you're seeing?"

"Oh please, as if you tell me about every girl you see"

"Well..that's n-not the same"

"Oh really? And by the way, the other day Instagram was full of you and some blonde at a club again. I could see how drunk you were through the picture, you know?" You've scolded him for the umpteenth time already. "You really should be more careful who you associate yourself with, it's getting out of hand"

Lando remained silent because he knew you were right and he hated that he knew you were always right.

"Lando, you know I'm only saying that because I don't want them to talk badly about you and play with your head..."

No one really knew Lando the way you did. After all, you've known each other since childhood, inseparable since you were little. Your relationship has always been one of a kind, both of you very protective of each other. For Lando, it was like he wasn't afraid to hurt anyone but you. You were something that cannot be touched.

"I know, but I don't want to talk about that either." He says. "Are you coming with me to Brazil?"

"No, I'm sorry, Lan. I have a project to finish. I have so much to do and so little time."

"So you have time to date but you don't have time to be there when I need you?"

"H-how can you even say that?" You were offended because that was far from the truth. If anyone was always there for Lando, it was you. You just didn't know he was saying this only out of jealousy and because he had a hard time accepting that you had someone in your life besides him.

"Let me guess, he'll be your moral support while you work on your project?"

Oh, if he only knew that the "moral support" he was talking about would be much closer to him than to you that weekend, he would surely lose his mind.

[cruel-seduction]

James Potter as Your Boyfriend

a/n - I am listening to my romantic playlist on repeat so it might be more cheesy than I intend it to be.

(୨୧) That Infuriatingly Perfect HairJames Potter is the guy who knows his hair is a mess and somehow still uses it as his primary flirting tactic. (Like, sir, did you actually think ruffling your hair would make me swoon? … Okay, maybe a little.) He smirks every time you roll your eyes at him doing it, but the kicker is when you catch him fixing it in a reflection right before seeing you. “Gotta look sharp for my girl,” he says with a wink. (Spoiler: he does not, in fact, look sharp, but you love it anyway.)

(୨୧) The Walking Ego (Who’s Secretly a Softie)He loves to show off in front of you, especially on the Quidditch field. He’ll pull stunts, grinning like he’s the coolest guy in the world, just to hear you cheer his name. (Never mind that he almost fell off his broom that one time; we don’t talk about that.) But when it’s just the two of you, his cocky demeanor drops, and he’s all shy smiles and quiet, “Did you really think I was good out there? Or are you just saying that because you love me?” cue him melting when you reassure him.

(୨୧) His Endless Need for Validation

James is the guy who constantly asks, “Did you see that?!” anytime he does anything remotely impressive, even if it’s just catching a piece of parchment midair. (You could be reading, and he’ll yell, “Love, LOOK!” before performing some ridiculous stunt). He’s a golden retriever in human form, and if you don’t immediately cheer for him, he’ll sulk until you give him a kiss. (You love it, though. Admit it).

(୨୧) His Terrible Jealousy

James acts like he’s the most confident guy alive, but the second someone flirts with you, his ears turn red, and he starts loudly talking about how amazing his girlfriend is. (You: “Subtle, Potter.” Him: “Not subtle, James Potter.”) If you so much as laugh at someone else’s joke, he’ll spend the next hour sulking until you kiss him and say, “No one compares to my idiot.” (He perks up immediately, naturally.)

(୨୧) The Chaotic Pillow Talk

James is that boyfriend who talks nonsense when you’re lying in bed together. One moment, he’s whispering sweet nothings like, “You’re my entire world,” and the next, he’s like, “Do you think Sirius could charm his hair to look like yours? Because I think about it a lot.” (You: “What the actual fuck?” Him: “I’m serious.”) Somehow, you love him more for it.

(୨୧) The Unintentional PDAJames isn’t subtle. At all. He’s the guy who’ll grab your hand in the middle of class, lean over, and whisper, “You look really pretty today,” loud enough for everyone—including Professor McGonagall—to hear. (You’re mortified; he’s grinning like a cat that got the cream.) And when you try to scold him later, he just shrugs and says, “What? I’m not gonna hide how I feel. Everyone should know you’re mine.”

(୨୧) The Emotional ProtectorJames may be a reckless Gryffindor, but when it comes to your emotional well-being, he’s shockingly thoughtful. If you’re upset, he’s the first to notice, even if you try to hide it. He’ll pull you into a quiet corner and say, “What’s wrong, love? You know you can tell me anything.” And if you cry? Oh, this man will hold you so tightly it’s like he’s trying to shield you from the entire world. (He definitely whispers, “I’ve got you, always,” like it’s a solemn vow.)

(୨୧) The Ride-or-Die RomanticJames Potter is the kind of boyfriend who makes you feel like you’re his entire world. He’s got that intense Gryffindor loyalty, and once he’s in love, there’s no turning back. He’ll write you corny notes like, “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’m including winning the House Cup in that list.” (They’re signed with little doodles of a stag and a heart because he’s the absolute worst.)

(୨୧) The Over-the-Top Romantic Gestures

He’ll do big, stupidly romantic things, like charming the stars in the Astronomy Tower to spell out your name (Sirius: “You’re disgusting, mate.” James: “Shut it, Pads, she’s the one”). But he’s also the type to leave little notes in your books, like “Marry me?” and “You’re the sexiest witch alive.” (You’ve found many letters in Hogwarts, A History. Yes, you kept them all.)

(୨୧) The Unexpected Vulnerability

Despite all his confidence, James has quiet moments when he doubts if he’s enough for you. “You could have anyone,” he’ll say softly, tracing patterns on your arm. (His voice cracks, and your heart aches). You always pull him close, reminding him that he’s more than enough, and he’ll smile in that shy, boyish way that makes your chest warm. (You: “You’re my James.” Him: “Always.”)

(୨୧) The King of Over-the-Top Gestures

James doesn’t just love you; he worships you. He’s the guy who’ll book out the entirety of Madam Puddifoot’s just to have a private date (you: “James, this is ridiculous.” him: “Ridiculously romantic, you mean”). But he’ll also sit with you on the Quidditch stands, freezing his arse off, just because he knows you like watching the stars after a match.

(୨୧) The Secret Softie

Yes, he’s cocky. But when it comes to you? This man melts. You mention being tired? Suddenly there’s a hot cup of tea waiting for you in the common room. (You: “How’d you know?” Him: “I’m James Potter. I know everything.”) He’d deny it if anyone else asked, but he lives to see you smile. His whole demeanor changes when it’s just the two of you—less bravado, more tenderness. (If you catch him staring at you all lovesick, just know he’s planning your wedding in his head.)

(୨୧) The “I’m Your Biggest Cheerleader” Energy

James will hype you up like his life depends on it. Got an essay due? “No problem, love, you’ve got this!” Need help with a spell? He’ll spend hours practicing with you until you nail it. And when you do, he’s out here clapping like you just won the Quidditch Cup. (Sirius: “Mate, chill, it’s a summoning charm.” James: “IT’S A BIG DEAL, PADFOOT.”) You can’t even be annoyed because the way he beams at you makes your heart flutter every damn time.

(୨୧) The Ego and the Heart to Match

James knows he’s hot—and he’ll never let you forget it. (You: “You’re insufferable.” Him: “You mean irresistible.”) But here’s the kicker: despite his cockiness, he’s never made you feel less than cherished. He’s the type to blow off quidditch practice just to study with you for your OWLs, or charm your quill to write faster when he sees you stressing. (You didn’t even ask. He just noticed.) He may act like the world revolves around him, but you’re the sun he orbits.

(୨୧) The Bravado

This man will not shut up about how good he is at everything—Quidditch, hexes, kissing you senseless against a bookshelf. And the worst part? He’s not wrong. (You: “Cocky much?” Him: “Confident, sweetheart. There’s a difference.”) But then there’s the unexpected softness, like when he presses his forehead against yours after, whispering, “You’re all I’ll ever want.” It’s the mix of arrogance and vulnerability that leaves you completely undone every time. (Yes, you’re ruined. No, you’re not mad about it.)

(୨୧) The “I’d Die for You” Loyalty

James would go to the ends of the earth for you—and you know it. He’s reckless when it comes to protecting you, stepping in front of danger without a second thought. (You: “Stop being so stupidly brave!” Him: “I can’t help it; it’s in the Potter genes. Do you want your kids to have these genes??”) Even in his most infuriating moments, you can’t deny how deeply he loves you. He’s yours, completely and irrevocably, and Merlin, does it feel good to be loved by James Potter.

[flutterbyoz]

It always surprises me, or maybe it doesn't given what the general TWD fandom can be like, that people are using the fact that The Ones Who Live is a love story as a reason to criticise the show.

The fact it is a love story was never hidden, it was never a secret or kept as a surprise, it's what the show was repeatedly promoted and advertised as. Andy, Danai and Scott never misled anyone into thinking it was going to be anything else, they were quite clear and pointed out that TOWL would be a love story every chance they got. So if someone saw any of the promo, interviews etc whether online or on TV and were going into this show expecting something else then I don't really know what to say other than they probably should have paid more attention.

The show was not aimed at or made for people who hate Richonne. I get that not everyone is a Richonne fan, to each their own for the most part, but when you watch their spin off, what else are you expecting other than a love story? Especially with Andy and Danai at the helm, it seems some people really don't understand the characters at all.

I know some people tuned in just to see what happened to Rick and that's great, the show isn't solely for Richonners but if the love story with his wife and love of his life annoys you so much that you can't continue watching your fave in their spin off and the feel the need to announce that you quit half way through then not only do I have to wonder why you hate their relationship so much but also say that you're purposefully ignoring a huge part of who Rick is and why he does what he does. I don't think you can fully understand and know Rick without his relationship with Michonne and how his love for her and hers for him shapes him into the man he is today. Without Michonne, Rick is a shell of himself, she is his entire world, she and their kids are his reason for everything so you're not going to get a Rick story without Michonne, because without Michonne there isn't really a Rick.

Had this been Rick and Daryl instead of Rick and Michonne, had they been the ones with the emotional scenes I can pretty much guarantee a large majority of the people who complained about Rick and Michonne would have no problem with Rick and Daryl. It's what a lot of them have been calling for since Rick was taken not to mention the people who are bitter that Richonne gets everything they have wanted for their ship for years.

Attacking a show because it is what it was promoted as and did exactly what it set out to do is more than a little bizarre to me but I suppose it's just another way to criticise and disregard Rick and Michonne's relationship and diminish Michonne's importance.

I know, if we see Richonne again, it's going to be another love story and those who complained before will most likely complain again but only one spin off has been the most successful, a hit for the franchise and for AMC, included on numerous best of lists, gained Emmy buzz, received overwhelmingly positive reviews from critics and fans alike, has multiple Saturn award nominations and given this franchise a new lease of life. I find it strange to watch a show knowing full well you're only doing so to find something to complain about and though those viewers are just a small percentage of TOWLs overall viewers they did the exact opposite of what they wanted to do. Instead of bringing the show down they're just raising it up even higher!

Nothing will stop this ship, everyone wants a piece of them, they draw everyone in even those who say they don't care or even like them together and that's the power or Richonne!

[sentientgolfball]

Dew and phantom with 4 and 10 from the prompt list:3

I really love writing these two so much OUGH

went the hurt/comfort route for this one

It is one of those days. One of the days where Dew wakes with pressure in his head and the weight of the world on his shoulders. Days like these happen more frequently this time of year, when the sun is gone and snow covers everything green. It never used to be this bad. When he was water he would just spend the coldest days sleeping. Now that he is fire though, all he gets is this lousy seasonal depression. The flame in his veins means he is now connected to the Sun rather than the Moon, so when She disappears it is like his mind shuts down. 

All the fire ghouls get like this, but Dew suffers the worst. Omega thinks it is because of the remnants of his water. A deep, deep part of him tells him it is time to sleep, but the rest of him does not allow it. It is not in his nature anymore. So the two conflicting instincts cause him to get hit harder than the rest. 

He fucking hates it. He hates that he cannot even force himself to get up to shower or eat or do anything besides lay in bed and stare at his wall. He cannot even get himself to shower or brush his teeth. It all just feels so heavy. Subconsciously he knows it will pass. He knows there is nothing wrong with him, that this is just a part of him now, but at the moment all he can think about is how much of a waste he is. Which in turn makes him feel worse. Adds even more pressure. But he cannot stop it. Round and round his thoughts go as he gets trapped in a spiral of his own making. 

How pathetic. 

Waste of a day. 

Disgusting. 

Cannot even take care of himself. 

What is he even doing? 

He buries himself deeper in his blankets, trying to shut out the light. Maybe he can sleep it off. He may not be the kind of ghoul to take naps, but anything is better than his current state. He knows it will not happen, but at least if it is dark he can pretend. 

But then a knock at his door disturbs his cocooning efforts. Who the fuck could that be? His pack is aware of how he gets this time of year and after doing this for so long they know to let him have a day before pulling him out. A day to rest, if you can even call it resting, so he does not burn out. Alpha told him there is a reason fire ghouls hide away during the winter but Dew did not really pay attention. 

So the knock shocks him. He does not feel annoyed or angry or anything close to that. He barely feels anything other than the heaviness in his chest. He does not really have time to process a response because before he can decide if he wants to truly be left alone or have someone here, the door creaks open. 

“Dew? Are you dead?” Phantom’s voice calls out. 

The vaguely Dew shaped lump on the bed just shrugs. He cannot really find his words. Phantom does not mind though. They step into the room, shuffling over. Dew can hear a little tink nearby as Phantom places a plate down on his nightstand. The noise causes Dew’s ear to twitch. When the smell of food hits his nose his stomach rumbles. He did not even know he was hungry. Very slowly, Dew rolls around so he is now facing Phantom instead of the window. 

They look down at him with a nervous little smile, “When you didn’t come to breakfast I got worried cause I was like ‘Dew is always the first one here’ but everyone else told me it would be okay but then I felt bad cause you’re missing croissants and I know how much you like them so i thought it wouldn’t hurt to bring you one.” 

They gesture to the plate that has a large chocolate filled croissant and some bits of fruit. Dew still does not say anything. He cannot. Find it. And it frustrates him. But not as much as Phantom’s gesture warms him. Them and their stupid face and stupid big heart and stupid kindness. Even for a horrible creature like himself. He wants to tell them something, let them know he appreciates them, but his stupid brain will not let me say anything. 

After the silence stretches for too long, Phantom rocks back on their heels and looks away, “Aaaanyway I’ll leave you be since you’re not feeling well.” 

The moment they turn to leave, Dew acts on instinct. His hand darts forward, wrapping around their wrist with a slight tug. They stop dead in their travel and look back down at him. 

“Dew what—“ the words die when they see a tear roll down his cheek. 

Dew never cries. Ever. Phantom’s only seen him cry once and that was when he saw Aether for the first time when they got back from tour. They try not to panic because what the fuck could be happening to make Dew cry. 

“Hey it’s okay uh you’ll be alright. Do you…want me to stay?” 

Get it together Phantom, you’re a quintessence ghoul for Satan’s sake. 

Dew nods his head, still not letting go of Phantom’s wrist. Despite the circumstance, their tail happily wags behind them. They pull the edge of the blanket up and clamber under. Immediately they wrap their arms around Dew, cuddling close and twining their tails together. 

Dew does not stop them. It is actually quite nice. Their ozone and frozen apple scent is familiar. Comforting. It allows him to focus on something else that is not the screaming in his mind that tells him he is an inconvenience. A burden. 

Phantom. Does not really know what to do. Now that they are touching, they have an idea of what is wrong. Can feel the heaviness weighing him down. But just because they know does not mean they can do anything. They want to, of course they do, but what does he need? 

“Do you wanna stay like this?” Phantom mumbles into his hair. 

Dew nods. 

“Okay I can do that. We can stay here all day if you want.” 

Anything Dew wants. 

Phantom will do anything if it makes him feel even just a little bit lighter. So that is what they do. They lay in bed with him all day, scratchy little chuffs being the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. 

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 22) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Chapter 22

“How is he?” Spinner pounces on you the second the warp sludge quits pouring from your mouth. “You were gone for two weeks this time. What happened?”

“Stop shaking me.” You have a headache, and you’re in a mood. “I’ll explain in a second. I –”

“Saintess!” Toga hugs you tightly from one side, then recoils. “Ew. You smell like –”

“Formaldehyde,” Re-Destro says. You’re never texting anyone to let them know when you’re coming back again. Next time the doctor can drop you off in a tree for all you care, and you’ll only come down when you feel like it. “You were assisting the doctor with his work?”

You didn’t want to be, but you were. “I was dissecting a quirk factor to try to recreate the bullets we took from Overhaul. The doctor has to keep them preserved somehow.”

Talking about the quirk-canceling bullets always makes Re-Destro uncomfortable. Or maybe it’s the formaldehyde. Either way, he backs off, and you shake Spinner off in the bargain. “I’m going to clean up so the rest of you don’t asphyxiate, and then I’ll give the update.”

“Did anything happen?”

You ignore Spinner and head for the showers. You smell awful and you haven’t slept in three nights and it’s been longer than that since you had a change of clothes. He and everybody else can wait.

Whenever Tomura’s in stasis, the doctor sends you back to the PLF’s headquarters to provide a report, and probably to keep you out of the way. You don’t know what the doctor does when you’re not there, but you know he won’t do anything to Tomura when you’re not present – he likes the effect of your quirk too much, and he doesn’t want to lose access by tormenting Tomura when you’re too far away to avoid the cost. The doctor probably spends the time working on the Nomus. He’s been cagey about how the process works, but you’ve picked up some things, and he’s been hinting that he’ll let you design one once you’ve figured out how to dissect quirk factors on your own. You’re almost there, and almost ready to begin testing the quirk-canceling bullets.

You’ve decided it’s in your best interest not to let anybody know how many there are, or who has them. As far as the doctor knows, the only hero with the ability to directly affect others’ quirks is Eraserhead, and that’s not permanent. Overhaul’s experiments weren’t widely revealed to the public, which means there’s a chance that most heroes don’t know about the bullets. Which means that the person who has the bullets can catch them completely by surprise.

Some part of you likes that idea. Some part of you wants to see how everybody else copes once they’re pulled down to your level. And some part of you has a bad feeling that you’ll need the bullets for more than just heroes. You’ll test them, make sure they work, and make as many as possible, so that instead of just healing Tenko when he’s hurt, you’ll be able to stop him from being hurt in the first place. You’ve never been able to protect him like that before. You’re kind of looking forward to it.

The bathroom door opens, and you speak up without looking. “Whoever that is, get out of here.”

“I’m not looking.” That’s Spinner’s voice, and you’re temporarily stunned into silence. “You need your costume. Dabi’s friend is sniffing around and he’s been asking lots of questions about you. I’m gonna leave it on the floor.”

“And then you’re going to get out.”

“Yeah,” Spinner says, but we need to talk. “We have to –”

“Leave.” You switch off the water, and Spinner books it. He might come into the bathroom while you’re showering, but the idea of sneaking a look at his best friend’s naked girlfriend is apparently out of his comfort zone. As soon as he’s gone, you switch the water back on.

It was – well, not easy to forgive Compress and Twice for voting that Tomura should go through with it, but it’s not like you expected better. You didn’t expect better from Dabi, either, although you haven’t ruled out shooting him with a quirk-canceling bullet if he threatens to kill you again. But you expected a hell of a lot better from Spinner, and you haven’t forgiven him for sending Tomura off to the torture chamber. You’re not planning on forgiving him, either. They might call you Saintess, but you aren’t one, and the sooner the rest of them get used to that, the better.

Spinner brought you your costume, but unsurprisingly neglected to bring things like underwear and socks, so you exit the bathroom in a towel, to the tune of Spinner bolting for cover. You lose patience. “I told you to leave.”

“You’re avoiding me, and we need to talk.” Spinner’s crouched behind Tomura’s bed, the one you theoretically sleep in when you’re here, well-hidden from whatever glimpses of you he might get. “Our win condition is still the same.”

“No, it isn’t. I care about what happens to him between now and then, and you don’t,” you snap. “You’re fine with him being the doctor’s new favorite test subject to get power he doesn’t need –”

“He does if he wants to win! It has to be decisive and it has to be fast,” Spinner says. “That’s not me talking. Or him. That’s something you said. He told me.”

You remember that conversation, but you didn’t expect it to stick with Tomura. You definitely didn’t expect him to repeat it to Spinner. “We may have signed off on it,” Spinner continues, “but he’s working off ideas he got from you. Every idea of his that isn’t “destroy everything forever” is backed up by some conversation he’s had with you. Nobody else has that kind of pull with him. Except All For One.”

You don’t know what to say to that. You’ve always assumed that whatever influence you might have over Tomura is dwarfed by the fifteen years of influence from All For One. Then again, the world had fifteen years to try to rip your allegiance to Tenko away from you, and it didn’t stick – and there are more than a few pieces of who Tenko is that made it through. From his hiding spot behind the bed, Spinner takes a deep breath, then lets it go. “I want to know how you did it.”

“What?”

“The others think you did it just by being a girl and – you know.” Spinner sounds like he’s cringing. “But that’s not it. Toga knows something. She wouldn’t say when I asked, but there’s something, so I want to know what it is. I want to know why he listens to you the same way he listens to All For One.”

“You don’t sound like you want to know.” The way his voice sounds, it’s like he’s asking someone to peel off his scales one at a time. “Leave it alone.”

“The medics from the helicopter said you called him something else,” Spinner says, and you freeze in the act of wringing out your hair. “You called him the same thing All For One did when he was unloading on All Might. How long have you known him?”

What did you say the first time Spinner asked you that? “Less than forever, longer than a year.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Spinner peeks up and over the edge of the bed, confirms you’re dressed, and stands up. “How long?”

You don’t have a good way to answer this. You don’t want to explain. You unclasp your locket from around your neck – you never take it off, not even to shower – and toss it to him, looking away as he pries it open. Unlike Toga and Manami, Spinner knows who he’s looking at instantly. “No,” he says at once. “That’s not – what?”

Toga was fascinated, Manami was shocked. Spinner sounds horrified. You want to say more, maybe to twist the knife and make him pay for asking, but you remember all at once that Skeptic has cameras and listening devices everywhere. Tomura ordered them taken out of his rooms, and you and Compress scanned everything a second time to make sure, but you wouldn’t put it past Skeptic to have reinstalled them. “Come on. If we’re talking about this, we’re talking outside.”

It's cold outside. Your hair is wet and you’re shivering, and Spinner’s shivering even worse than you are. As if you needed any more incentive to keep this conversation short. “What do you want to know?”

“How?” Spinner says at once. He’s still holding the locket, but he’s holding it with the same trepidation as you’d hold a live eel. “How did he go from that to – this?”

He’s gesturing around, encompassing everything – the MLA compound in the mountains, himself, you and your costume, asking how the kid in the picture turned into Shigaraki Tomura, Symbol of Fear, Grand Commander of the Paranormal Liberation Front and heir to All For One. “His quirk awakened,” you say. Spinner gives you a weird look. “Think about it.”

“I am thinking about it. Why would that –” Spinner breaks off suddenly. “Shit. That would – that could be bad. Really bad.”

“All For One took him away after that. I didn’t see him again for fifteen years.”

“So you knew him before.”

“He was my best friend,” you say, but he was more than that, even when you were children. You’d have done anything for him, just like you’d do anything now. “When I found him again, he was like this. He didn’t recognize me at first. I don’t think All For One wanted him to remember that he was anybody before this.”

“Well, yeah,” Spinner says, like it’s obvious. Maybe it is to him. “Wait, why’d he let you stick around, then? If you knew Shigaraki before –”

“We hid it,” you say. “From Kurogiri. From everyone.”

“Except Toga?”

Spinner actually sounds hurt. “She found out by accident,” you say. “The doctor guessed when he looked into my family, and my quirk. My friends from before know, and my cousin. And now you.”

Seven people. Seven people other than you know that Shimura Tenko existed, that some part of him still exists, part and parcel of Shigaraki Tomura. You might be the only one who knew him personally, but it’s a relief to know that if something happens to you, your death won’t be the end of your best friend.

That still doesn’t mean you forgive Spinner. “What else do you want to know?”

“Like – why?” Spinner realizes that you’re staring at him and elaborates. “You guys are my age, right? Twenty?”

“I’ll be twenty-one soon.”

“But you were twenty when you met him again,” Spinner says. You nod. “And you hadn’t seen him for fifteen years. And – sorry, but you aren’t like the rest of us. You don’t have a scary quirk like Toga does and you weren’t a shut-in like me. You had friends and a real job and your own apartment, and ordering pizza for all of us didn’t max your credit card. Why would you chuck all that for somebody you knew when you were five?”

The scathing sound exits your mouth before you can stop it. “Why would you throw any chance of a normal life away because you saw a video about Stain?”

“Hey,” Spinner snaps. “That was different. I was grown up –”

“So was I,” you say. “And I actually knew the person I was throwing it away for.”

“You don’t understand what it meant,” Spinner says. He’s glaring at you. You glare right back, even though he can’t see your expression under your veil. “It all made sense when I learned about Stain. Everything that had happened to me – you were just a kid. What did you know?”

“I knew I mattered.” You never talk about your family with the League of Villains. Why would you, when everyone else has a backstory more tragic than yours, when the only person who needs to know already knows everything? “At home – my first memory is my mom telling me to watch my brother. Then my brother and my sister. Then my brother and my sister and the twins. All that mattered about me was what I could do for them, and I was four. The only person who ever saw just me was him.”

The last day you and Tenko had together is crystal clear in your head. The first day is fuzzy, blurred by time. You were at school, you think. A pre-primary school program your pediatrician recommended, probably so you could go somewhere and be a kid for a few hours a day. Your pediatrician had your parents’ number for sure. No, it wasn’t at school. You were on the way to school – no, you were trying to get out the door, and you made it all the way to the sidewalk before you realized that your mom wasn’t with you.

You remember looking back at her, puzzled. “Mama?”

“We’re going to be late. I have to load up the stroller and the wagon –” Your mother said that, but she wasn’t doing it. A pit of dread yawned open in your stomach. “This neighborhood is safe. It’s not very far. You remember where we went to register?”

“No!” You tried not to panic. You could see her thinking about it, making the decision. “I don’t know where it is. Mama –”

“You’re a big girl. I know you can take care of this,” your mother said. She was smiling, but it was more relieved than proud. Relieved she wouldn’t have to deal with you. Relieved she could focus on something more important. “Hurry. You’ll be late.”

For the first time you can remember, you refused. “I can’t go alone,” you said, and your eyes welled up even as your mother rolled hers. “I don’t know where it is. I don’t want to get lost. Please – can’t you just leave them –”

“Leave my babies? Are you out of your mind?”

Weren’t you her baby too? “It wouldn’t be long. You said it wasn’t that far, so can’t you just –”

You couldn’t talk after that. You were crying too hard, and your mother rolled her eyes again, told you to stop acting like a baby when you were almost five, and you wanted to tell her that you’d only just had your birthday and you weren’t almost anything at all. She shut the door, and you sat down on the sidewalk, sobbing into your hands. You didn’t know where you were supposed to go and she wouldn’t let you back in. She always came running when the twins cried, so why wouldn’t she come for you? You knew how silly you looked, but you couldn’t stop crying. You couldn’t go to school like this. No matter what you thought to do, it was always wrong.

“Are you okay?”

You looked up at the sound of the voice, blinking back tears, and found a dark-haired boy your age staring down at you. He looked sort of familiar, and as you snuffled and tried to wipe your nose, you realized that he lived across the street. You’d seen him before, with his mom and his sister and his dog, but you’d never met. He was looking down at you, eyes wide. “Are you okay?” he asked again. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t know how to answer, and a moment later, you heard running footsteps. You hoped it was your mom, but it wasn’t. “Tenko!” the woman called out, panicked. “Tenko, don’t scare me like that again. How many times have I told you –”

“She’s sad.” Tenko pointed at you. “We have to help.”

“Um, all right.” The woman studied you, puzzled, while Tenko crouched down at your side. “Did you fall down?”

You shook your head. “Is that your house?” Tenko’s mom asked, pointing at your front door, and you nodded. “All right. Tenko, stay here. I’m going to –”

The front door opened before the woman could knock, and you heard your mother’s voice, already frustrated – but Tenko was right in front of you now, taking up all your vision. “What’s your name?” he asked, and you managed to mumble it. “I’m Tenko. I live over there. You have a backpack. Are you going to school?”

You nodded. “I have one. I’m going, too,” Tenko said proudly. “My sister said school is fun. Why are you sad?”

You didn’t answer, but your mom did it for you, in response to Tenko’s mom asking the same question. “She’s throwing a fit because she doesn’t want to walk to school alone.”

“She’s four,” Tenko’s mom said, shocked, and somehow that made you feel better. She was right, and that meant you were right. You were right, and your mom was wrong. “I’ve seen you with your children. You have a lot on your mind, and my son and I are headed there already. If you’d like, she can walk with us.”

Looking back, you can see where you started to learn to de-escalate tense moments – Tenko’s mom, backing down her initial reaction, showing that she understood your mom’s position, offering to help in a way that wouldn’t make your mom madder than she already was. It worked. “If you’re headed there already,” your mom said doubtfully. Then one of the twins wailed from inside the house, and she made up her mind. “Thank you. I apologize for her. She’s not usually so dramatic.”

“It’s no trouble,” Tenko’s mom said smoothly. She turned to go, and Tenko held out his hand to help you to your feet. You took it, and even once you were standing, he didn’t let go. His hand was warm and sort of sweaty. “Tenko, help your friend up – oh, you did that already.”

Friend. You were Tenko’s friend? “We can walk now,” Tenko told his mom. She took his other hand, and the three of you crossed the street together, then turned the corner. When Tenko spoke up again, he was talking to you. “You can walk with us every morning if you want.”

“I don’t have to,” you mumbled. “My mom is right. I should do it myself.”

“No,” Tenko’s mom said firmly. She was smiling, but her eyes were hard. “Four is a little young. You’ll walk with us.”

“I want you to,” Tenko said. He swung your clasped hands back and forth between the two of you, practically skipping. “Hana said I’d make friends and you’re my first one!”

Being Tenko’s friend sounded like the best thing in the world to you. “You’re my first friend, too.”

You were his first friend, and he was yours. He and his mom were waiting for you on the sidewalk the next morning, all ready to walk with you to school.

You never understood why he did that, why he pulled away from his mom and ran across the street to help a crying girl he’d never met. You just accepted that it was part of who he was, just one more reason why he’d be the best hero the world had ever seen – and you still see that in him, in the way he avenged Magne and comforted Twice and took out the CRC for Spinner and promised Toga he wouldn’t destroy the things she likes and stole Re-Destro’s money so the League can have all the expensive food they want. You see it in the new world he’s promised to all of you, in his promise to live in it with you.

You know who Tenko is. You’ve always known, and it’s that knowledge that keeps your head up, holding Spinner’s gaze. “I don’t you or anyone else to understand why I’m with him. But I’m loyal to him. Not All For One’s visions or his plans or what anyone else wants for him. Just him. Do you understand?”

“I get it,” Spinner says. “You’re against whatever could hurt him even if it’s part of the plan.”

“Yes,” you say. “And you’ll let him get hurt if it means the plan succeeds.”

“I don’t want –” Spinner breaks off, frustrated. “Look, I know something fucked-up is going on over there. You look like hell every time you come back, and you wouldn’t be so mad at me still if it wasn’t as bad or worse than you said it was going to be. But if it’s your job to be loyal to him, it’s my job to be loyal to his vision and make his dream a reality. And neither of us want him to die.”

It sort of makes sense when he puts it like that. Or maybe you just haven’t slept in a while. “So?”

“So we shouldn’t fight,” Spinner says. He holds the locket out to you, and you take it back, fastening it around your neck and tucking it out of sight. “We should work together.”

Before you can say anything else, like asking Spinner just what he thinks the two of you should work together on, a voice rings out from somewhere behind you. “Hey, what are you two doing out here? It’s freezing!”

Spinner doesn’t jump, but your startle response never bounced back, and your heart rate spikes so fast you almost faint. “Nice to see you, Spinner,” Hawks says, stepping out of the light cast by the windows of the villa and into the shadows where you and Spinner stand. “And you – you must be the Saintess I’ve heard so much about.”

Dabi’s friend. It must be. The Number Two hero is smiling at you, hand outstretched to shake, and you shake in response, wondering how the hell Dabi could have gotten snowed so badly. Kazuo warned you about a spy in the PLF. You’re pretty sure you’re looking at him.

“You’re a hard girl to track down,” Hawks continues, once you’ve both let go. “Seems like everybody knows you, but nobody knows where you are. The Grand Commander must keep you really busy.”

“We’re all busy,” Spinner says. “Shigaraki’s vision won’t come true on its own.”

Spinner doesn’t trust him, either. You can tell by his tone of voice. Hawks laughs, bright and easy. “Of course not! But let’s be honest here – you two work at it way harder than the rest of the League, don’t you? To hear Re-Destro tell it, you two are the true believers. I could learn a lot from you.”

Sure he could. So he could hand it all to the heroes and fuck the two of you over. How the hell did Dabi fall for this? “Based on your last report, you’re doing pretty well on your own,” Spinner says. “All those books on Liberation ideology aren’t selling themselves.”

“I mean, they could,” Hawks says. “You’ve read them. You know. The only people who’d protest the ideology are the quirkless, and they’re a dying breed anyway.”

Is he trying to trick you into outing yourself? It wouldn’t be the worst move – if you overreact to a slight against the quirkless, it’ll drastically narrow the range of possibilities for your true identity. You shrug. “There aren’t many ideologies that can appeal to eighty-plus percent of the population. Maybe you’re right – the books don’t need you passing them around.”

Hawks laughs at that. “I’ll have to find some other way to be useful, then. I’ve got all kinds of insider info from the HPSC. They don’t suspect a thing.”

Of course they don’t – he’s spying for them. Someone calls for Hawks from inside and he grins. “Gotta blast. Good to finally meet you, Saintess. We’ll have to chat later.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Once he’s gone, you turn to Spinner. “Okay, so he’s –”

“Shh.” Spinner shakes his head. “Feather check.”

Hawks’s feathers? You scan Spinner, looking for any flecks of red, while he does the same to you. You’re both clear, but Spinner doesn’t look relieved. “He could have left other ones,” he says. “Let’s go.”

You follow him further out from the villa, teeth chattering. Spinner’s teeth are chattering, too, and the two of you stand close together, trying to conserve heat. You speak up first. “So Hawks is the spy, right?”

“You think so, too. I knew it wasn’t just me.” Spinner looks relieved. “It’s him for sure.”

“Is Dabi insane? Does he really think the Number Two hero would just –”

“I don’t know how much thinking he’s doing,” Spinner says. He grimaces. “There’s something weird going on with them. I went to wake Dabi up one time when he slept through a strategy meeting, and Hawks was in there, too.”

“Oh.” You need a second to process that. “I thought we were supposed to be making the heroes unfuckable, not fucking them ourselves.”

Spinner snorts, but he sobers up fast. “Nobody else is suspicious. Re-Destro loves that he’s here – the Number Two hero is on our team. Twice gets along with him. Compress and Toga are Compress and Toga. And Dabi –”

“Don’t say it. I don’t want to picture it.”

“I don’t know for sure that they’re – that. All I know is, they’re too close for how suspicious Hawks is.” Spinner looks worried. “He already knows way too much. How many of us there are. Where the other major cells are. Who the lieutenants are. Stuff everybody in the PLF knows, but that’s too much. The heroes could fuck us up on that alone.”

They could. Kazuo couldn’t ask questions that broad without giving himself a seizure, but Hawks can gather the details in-person. And if you and Spinner are the only ones who suspect him – “Is there anything he doesn’t know?”

“Yeah. Feather check.” Spinner turns in a slow circle so you can check him, and you do the same a moment later. “Your costume’s great for this. It would be easy to spot one.”

“It’s about the only thing my costume is good for.” You’ve had more than one thought about how terrible it would be to get your period unexpectedly in this outfit. “What doesn’t he know?”

“He doesn’t know where Shigaraki is. He knows Shigaraki is getting new quirks, but he doesn’t know which ones,” Spinner says. You breathe a sigh of relief. “He doesn’t know when the war’s going to start, but that’s because we don’t yet. He doesn’t know that Toga’s quirk leveled up. And he doesn’t know about you.”

“What do you mean, about me?”

“You run around in white like a ghost. Most of the PLF has never seen your face. They know you have a quirk, but next to nobody knows what it is,” Spinner says. “The one decent thing Re-Destro’s done is lock that info down. They don’t know your real name like they know some of ours. Your code name is really weird for a villain –”

“You gave it to me!”

“And you’re closer to Shigaraki than anybody else,” Spinner continues. “You’re important. No shit he wants to know about you, and he can’t find out. If he knows you’re propping up Shigaraki’s healing factor, he’ll take you down.”

“Heroes don’t kill people.”

“Heroes don’t spy, either,” Spinner points out. “This guy is bad news. I’ve been laying false trails so he doesn’t find out where Shigaraki is. You can help with that. If you act like you’re coming from different places every time, it’ll confuse him. And the formaldehyde thing has to stop. All the hospital smells have to.”

You know there are locker rooms at the hospital for the residents. You can shower off before you leave. “And you have to make sure there aren’t any feathers on you, anywhere. Every time,” Spinner says. “Or he’ll find out where Shigaraki is, and then –”

“I know.” You haven’t felt anything but anxious in months, but your stomach is clenched in a tighter knot than usual. “Does he know about the bullets?”

“The deleter rounds? I don’t think so.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” You’ve never thought about what would happen to a heteromorph if you hit them with something that targets their quirk factor. Hawks would be the perfect person to try it on.

It’s quiet for a second. “Sorry about the code name,” Spinner says. “It was just for us. I didn’t know it was gonna stick.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “Based on some of the code names in the PLF, it could have been a lot worse.”

Spinner nods, and it’s quiet for another few moments. “We’ve got work to do together. Truce?”

“Yeah. Truce.” You don’t have to forgive Spinner, but the two of you are still allies, still in agreement on the most important thing: The new world Tomura will make possible won’t matter if Tomura isn’t in it. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s get back inside.”

The two of you set off. It’s starting to snow, fat flakes falling lazily from the sky. “How is he?” Spinner asks you. “Shigaraki, I mean.”

“We’re about halfway through. The doctor’s happy with how it’s going.”

“What about you?”

Your mind echoes with the alarms that clang as Tomura’s heart rate plummets, with the sounds of his screams, or worse, the sound of him begging for it to stop. Worse than all of that is the silence, when he’s lost consciousness or fallen into a seizure or his vocal cords have ruptured completely. “I’ll be happy when it’s over.”

<- Chapter 21

[sl-walker]

Booster's Queer af

Something I wrote on Reddit on a thread asking 'what's your DC hot take??', because if you're gonna kick a hornet's nest, kick it with your best steel-toed boots and then smile:

Booster's queer. That man hasn't come across as straight-- ever. Like even when I started reading DC in 2003, he came across as queer to me, pretty much from his inception. Seriously. He comes across like someone closeted and decidedly not-straight who just stays in the closet initially because it was a very bad time to be anything other than heterosexual when he landed in the past and later because it's habit and expected of him. I don't think he's gay, I think he probably leans pretty pansexual or maybe even demisexual, but any which way, you'll never convince me he's not at least a little bit queer. He's had one in-universe romance that hasn't been retconned (Firehawk) in his entire time existing and one that was a joke and maybe not even real canon (Gladys). After almost four decades. His thing with Firehawk lasted, I think, like less than a year, too. I'm pretty sure you can count his on-panel kisses on one hand, but not more than two. He's never had a 'morning after' scene. The one seriously emotionally intimate relationship he has is with another guy. When he does flirt or attempt to, it comes off as being awkward and a bit desperate and a bit like a man who is kinda using it as cover. And like-- that really makes way more sense for him than anything otherwise. I'd sincerely hope by the 25th century that we'd stop giving a damn who loves or wants whomever else based on gender presentation. It also makes for a pretty compelling tale, a guy getting dropped into the middle of the AIDS epidemic learning a very quick and ugly lesson about what happens to queer folk in this time period. I dunno how hot a take this is, though, because at least some people up top agree (he's canonically hooked up with Ted in Teen Titans Go! and like-- any time Tom Taylor writes them, he all but says it aloud), but if TPTB were brave, they'd finally confirm it mainline. Like you don't even have to ship him with Ted (though that's my preference), just confirm he's queer. Here's my essay. What's my grade? LOL!

--

Since it's relevant, tho, here's a few pieces I wrote from a long email back and forth (since us old people still do that) with another very long-time fan of his a couple weeks ago:

But anyway, to me, he acts about like how a kid who got dropped into the 80s during the height of the AIDS panic and rampant homophobia and the wholesale death of gay men might, especially if he were queer himself. I'd probably try to straight-wash myself, too, in his boots. (I remember that time period, if distantly. I didn't realize I was queer myself until I was well into my 20s, despite falling in very desperate and intense love with another girl when I was 12. I do remember being in high school when a boy was murdered for being queer by being tortured and left tied to a fence to die, though. It was that kind of world back then for people like us. In some places, it still is.) Still, where Booster fails at any hetero romance (oh god does he), he's so devoted to Ted that a big part of his second solo was dedicated to him either trying to save the man or actively mourning him. It's heartbreaking and amazing and really actually quite good stuff, from a literary POV. Whether DC meant it or not, somehow they managed to write one of the greatest love stories I've ever seen in a comic across most of twenty years, no kidding, and I've read a lot across a lot of companies, even back when I was a twelve year old girl and ridiculed for it. And not just a great queer love story, it's a great love story period. A person can make a credible argument for it being a one-sided -- romantic and therefore non-platonic -- love, but it's pretty hard to argue it's not a very intense one regardless.

And

I guess what I'm trying to say is: This is another read on him. And I think also a very valid one. He's one hell of an amazing character, I wish DC had handled him half as well post-Flashpoint than they did pre-Flashpoint, and I don't think a queer reading of him detracts anything from how amazing he is. If anything, I think it makes the older stuff several shades deeper (and so, so relatable, god), and I think if they decided to write him as explicitly queer now, not too many people would actually be all that surprised. With or without Ted. I can't really identify with Alan Scott, love him though I do, even though I can acknowledge that a generation of gay men likely could quite strongly. But I can identify with Booster Gold, who grew up poor and wrecked his future in part for love of family, who clawed his way out of poverty and fell back into it, who has brilliant and shining moments of courage and heart, and moments where he lands on his face, who was tough enough to survive a lot of shit but devastatingly vulnerable to exploitation, and who looks like a fellow queer kid who might've fallen for his best friend, but was surrounded by homophobia and hate and terror and buried that part of himself because the alternative might have been getting beaten and left tied to a fence to die.

[beneath-the-willow-tree]

I do think there are philosophical hang-ups worth having about vampirism — especially regarding immortality and the slew of psychological problems it can give you — but eating people is not one of them. It’s just biology. If a polar bear eats a person because it’s hungry, that is unfortunate for the person’s family and all, but it doesn’t make the polar bear evil. I know vampires are capable of contemplation in ways polar bears are not; still, I do not think belonging to a certain species makes it morally wrong for you to enjoy your food. Louis does survive by feeding on non-human animals for a while, so it is possible for vampires to avoid eating people, but even then. You can feed your cat vegetarian cat food. It doesn’t mean you should.

[bunnieswithknives]

sorry if idk this but what do you think about Wordgirl now in 2024 do you still like it do you still want to make art or talk about it or are you just done with all of it forever and plus i seen that you haven't made art of it since 2022 so you just done with all of it oh yeah and what about The Magnus Archives + Wordgirl ao3 fic too like is that just going to be and i know that your working on 2 au's now just wanting to know that's all

My interests tend to come in intense bursts and then fade. Unless something like, big happens like it gets a reboot its unlikely I'll be coming back to it anytime soon. As for the fic I don't have any current plans to finish it unfortunately.

[dadbots]

August… time to get spooky.

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[gibbearish]

oh no im remembering why i liked sebastian so much my first time through

[savanir]

The What Corps?

“we have you now spook! there is nowhere you can run and hide with our new spectral tethers active!”

Danny winces at the small metal clips that have hooked themselves in his leg, some new GIW tech that is messing with his powers.

“oh yeah? I was just dying for you guys to give me a challenge” plan. plan. He's gotta think of a plan to get out of here and fast. He takes a steadying breath and starts to look for anything that can help him.

he can’t get caught here. He just can't. He simply won’t allow himself.

suddenly the two GIW goons in front of him click their earpieces to clearly listen to what someone else is telling them, Danny is very glad for his own enhanced senses.

“Operatives K and O, be advised, there have been sightings of a new ectoplasmic entity near your location. Other operatives report that it’s incredibly small and moves fast. watch your backs, this may be an ambush”

small and fast? it better not be some poor little blob ghost, Danny sort of hopes it’s some manner of ectowasp, at least that could be entertaining to see.

“you better not be hoping for back up, ecto scum”

“I have no idea what you are talking about”

It's then that a small bright green light zips on scene and weaves through crowds in the distance with ease and then speeds up towards the two operatives who do not hesitate to shoot, missing completely like the storm troopers they are.

Whatever it is, it is indeed going very fast but Danny manages to figure out what it looks like and it appears to be a… ring?

“hold it you tiny accessory shaped ecto fiend!”

The ring does a speedy circle around Operative O while K is lining up a shot and ends up blasting the poor guy point blank in his face, “O!”

Danny takes a step forward with an arm outstretched and a “oh damn! Are you alright?” on his lips when the ring takes the chance to slip on his finger. “Daniel Fenton of Earth”

Danny already had a freakout about a ghost jewelry getting on him, his experiences with those so far have been incredibly bad after all, what with the rings and crowns and pendants… now this damn thing is just straight up outing him! 

Thank the ancients the two GIW stooges are too busy with each other right now to pay close attention to what this weird ring is saying.

“You have the ability to overcome great fear” ah so this is related to him steeling himself just now? Maybe? or something??

You have been chosen” never good, we are back to freaking out again.

“Welcome to the green lantern corps” 

… the what?

Danny notices that his usual outfit suddenly has more green going on, and his DP symbol has some sort of… he guess it’s supposed to be a lantern, maybe? shape around it.

He’s somehow even more glowy now, and there is something on his face. Feeling its shape makes him think it’s some sort of mask.

The metal clip things are no longer attached to his legs though so that’s great!

“You’re not getting away so easily ecto scum! sentient ghost paraphernalia coming to your rescue or no!” They both aim their weapons to take a shot.

Danny figures he can now easily hold them back with his usual shields,“you guys realize you just called this weird ring sentient and thereby negate the whole nonsentie-ack!”

“Attacking a corps lantern is punishable offense as of the instatement of the galactic diplomatic immunity as declared by the-” Okay so now Danny is just raising his eyebrow at this weird as fuck ring. Just what is it going on about?

“notifying nearby lanterns and requesting assistance with apprehension of hostiles”

what?

“getting your friends to help you out vile spook? such a thing is useless with the Blackout still very much in place”

Well… the two streaks of green light in the distance is making Danny doubt that statement.

Maybe there is more to this Lantern corps thing than he thought… And something tells him his life is about to get even more complicated than it already is.

[mostly-imagines]

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[sant-riley]

[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]

(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))

Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.

Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3

Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)

Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!

Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.

Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.

Price:

Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.

John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.

John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.

John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.

A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.

If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.

He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.

The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.

The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"

Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)

He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.

Ghost:

Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.

Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.

Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.

However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.

Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).

He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."

Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.

He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.

I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.

On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.

Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans

This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.

Soap:

Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.

Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)

Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.

Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).

I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-

Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.

You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.

Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.

He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.

Gaz:

Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.

His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.

The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.

"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"

When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.

I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.

He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.

He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.

Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.

He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

there are definitely things to critique about cc’s writing and her writing of female chars but I do not think “all of them are the same” is one of them sorry like idk how you look at Clary Tessa Emma and Cordelia and are like “ah yes these are the same people” :/

[snoopyracing]

grapes and good fortune // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: cursing and alcohol use

includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff

summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.

a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.

You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved. 

Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time? 

“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session. 

“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass. 

“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?” 

“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.” 

She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.” 

“I’m not in love with Lando.” 

Yes you were. 

“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.” 

“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat. 

“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff. 

“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.” 

“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up. 

A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.” 

You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that. 

“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.” 

She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face  “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.” 

“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.” 

If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”

Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat. 

“Speak of the devil.” She laughs. 

You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-

everything's all right.. just missed you is all. 

Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it. 

“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases. 

“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.” 

Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.

Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under. 

As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?” 

You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.” 

His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him. 

“Quit staring.” 

You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment. 

“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you. 

“I can buy it myself.” 

“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”

You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face. 

“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?” 

“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat. 

“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.” 

And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.” 

With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party. 

“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando. 

Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you. 

“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.” 

An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people. 

Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.”  Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.” 

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.” 

Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.” 

This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.” 

“Why do you do that?” Max groans. 

You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?” 

“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.” 

Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you. 

“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?” 

You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away. 

“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer. 

Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight. 

“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning. 

Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand. 

Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast. 

Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window. 

When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish. 

He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that? 

Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.

As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table? 

He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you. 

“What the hell are you doing down here?” 

The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing. 

His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you. 

“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again. 

Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking. 

“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.

Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed. 

You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.” 

Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear. 

“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence. 

“Shoot.” 

He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?” 

You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?” 

He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”

There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind. 

Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point. 

“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.

“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-” 

His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.

Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over. 

There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever. 

You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks. 

“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.” 

You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world. 

“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.” 

“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.” 

His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long. 

The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there. 

“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!” 

“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.” 

He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.” 

You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime. 

“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.” 

“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.” 

You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again. 

When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.” 

The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.  

max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.

you: i don’t know what you're talking about. 

lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else.