#wiz writes

[wiz-writes]

So... I am absolutely writing what I'm supposed to, but this just wouldn't leave my brain and I had to get it out of my system.

Inspired by this lovely Anon:

You startle awake in the middle of the night, not sure what exactly interrupted your peaceful sleep. You blink in the darkness, trying to gauge how long you've been asleep. Stars dot the ink-black expanse outside the window, meaning that it's been at least a few hours.

Thank the gods. You're not ready to get up yet.

Turning over in the bed, you're met with an empty and cold space, the covers untouched.

You lift your head and look towards the door. Is she still working?

And indeed, you can see the faint orange glow coming from the hallway.

You sigh and scramble from the bed, grabbing a spare blanket from the cupboard. Your bare feet make almost no sound against the floorboards as you follow the light in the direction of the kitchen.

A creak of the wood gives you away.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Valia doesn't even turn her head and continues reading what you assume is a report, with her hand supporting her temple. She's surrounded by piles of paper, as always, with only two candles illuminating her work space.

"I could say the same to you." You unfold the blanket in your arms and drape it over her shoulders, your fingers lingering on the soft fabric.

"These reports won't finish themselves, you know." There is a note of exhaustion in her voice, and try as she might to hide it, you catch it anyway.

A second sigh leaves you as you lean forward to place a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, right where the tree branches of her tattoo reach out towards her hair.

"Go to sleep," you mumble against her skin, nose brushing her nape.

"Mhm, I will. After I finish this."

With one last look, you shuffle back to bed, knowing full well that nothing you say will make her leave her work unfinished.

It's as you're falling asleep once more that you feel the bed dip under her weight.

[surqrised]

Your life is a puzzle, dont waste your time trying to place people where they don’t fit.

Wiz Khalifa

[thoughtkick]

Worrying is stupid, it's like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.

Wiz Khalifa

[thehopefulquotes]

Don’t date the most beautiful girl in the world, Date the girl that make your world the most beautiful.

Wiz Khalifa

[wisteriagoesvroom]

sunshowers

🧢 🔶 a franco colapinto x lando norris fic 🌆 a sunset, from franco's pov ✏️ 2.1k words, rated g 🔗 read on ao3

preview

Lando, for his part, seems content to study the horizon. He used to talk so much, in every video, haphazard energy to fill the silence. These days, it seems he is happier to play the part of a wizened, if a bit eccentric, sage.  “How are you finding it? Like. Everything,” Lando asks. Franco does not look at him, but they are both looking at the clouds. “It is… a lot. It’s everything I ever wanted. And it’s all happening so fast.” “Completely understandable. It’s like, it’s normal, and you’re nobody, until you’re… not? And everyone wants a piece of you. And it’s nice, people, like, knowing your name and stuff. When it’s new. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.” “Do you still like it?” Franco glances over at the other driver. Lando doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans back on his palms, and tilts his face upwards as if to soak in the surreal, sundrenched sky.

and! thank you @ocontraire for the readthrough !!

taglist for those who wanted to read it... @rigmarole-07 @redbulldotgov @lovelylotusf1 @jusst-you-race @lyslsstuff @daughter-of-aphrodite

[stay-close]

Your life is a puzzle, dont waste your time trying to place people where they don’t fit.

Wiz Khalifa

[resqectable]

Worrying is stupid, it's like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.

Wiz Khalifa

[perfectquote]

Don’t date the most beautiful girl in the world, Date the girl that make your world the most beautiful.

Wiz Khalifa

[perfectfeelings]

Your life is a puzzle, dont waste your time trying to place people where they don’t fit.

Wiz Khalifa

[bright-and-burning]

Slow kiss, whatever pairing you want! — wiz

Oscar giggles, thready and high, and leans into Lando’s space to grab the joint back from his hands. He takes a breath to steady himself first, pull it together so he won’t choke on the inhale and embarrass himself, and settles into his spot, twisting to sit sideways.

Lando lowers his hand and sinks back into the couch they’re sharing. Oscar can’t look away, stuck on the spread of Lando’s fingers across the pristine fabric. He’s drawing designs in the fuzz with his index finger, everything else held stationary, like the only tendons connected to his brain are concentrated there.

Lando pokes Oscar’s side.

“D’you forget how to smoke?”

His voice is slurred, low and slow. Oscar drags his eyes back up to Lando’s face.

“Noooooo,” Oscar draws it out, reveling in the shape of his mouth around the letters.

He forces his limbs to cooperate. Draws his hand up, and pauses, thoughts loading in from far away.

“You ever-“

He stops.

Lando blinks, lids slow to lower and even slower to raise.

“Yeah?”

It’s more an exhale than a word, but Oscar sees the green light that it is.

“Y’ever shotgun?”

Lando’s finger pauses, halfway through writing Oscar’s name in the cushion. His nose scrunches up. Oscar wants to lick it.

“Fuckin’- what?”

“When you, like,” Oscar takes a hit, sits with it in his lungs for a moment. “And then you, y’know. Blow it in somebody’s mouth.”

Smoke escapes as he speaks, words made hazy and real.

Lando shifts forward, back into his usual state of perpetual motion.

“You mean blowbacks?“

“What the fuck. You just made that up.”

Lando twists to face him, faster than his eyes can track.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh!”

Lando rolls his eyes, giving in. Shocker, honestly. Oscar’d expected them to go on forever. The silence sits on his limbs like a weighted blanket.

Lando clears his throat.

“Nah.”

“Huh?”

Oscar’s head is heavy. He lets it slide to the side, leans his shoulder further into the couch.

“Never-“ Lando pauses, clearly searching for words. Oscar’s more interested in finding out what the sheen of sweat on Lando’s collarbone tastes like than predicting what he’s trying to say next. “Shotgunned, or whatever.”

Oscar stops calculating how weird it would be to lean over and lick Lando.

“You- never?”

“No?”

Lando sounds confused. Bemused, maybe.

Oscar hums. He wiggles his toes, testing his control of his limbs. Looks at the joint, cherry burning up, getting hot in his fingers, and makes a decision.

“Hold still.”

“Wha-“

Oscar swings his leg over Lando’s lap, faster than he thought he was capable of, and drags the rest of his body into center.

“Wanna try?”

Lando swallows and nods, head tipping back to keep Oscar in sight.

The joint’s nearly burnt down. Oscar shakes off a pang of guilt at the waste, and takes a hit, inhaling deep, making his chest tight with it.

He weaves a hand into the crown of Lando’s hair, and tugs until his mouth drops open.

Oscar leans in close, close enough for Lando’s breath to be a gentle puff against his skin, just far enough not to touch, and closes his eyes.

He exhales. Lando inhales, audibly shaky, and Oscar opens his eyes to meet Lando’s, pupils blown wide. Oscar’s skin feels lit up, electricity arcing across the paper-thin distance between their lips.

“Again?” Lando croaks. He’s looking up at Oscar like he wants to eat him. Or be eaten by him. Oscar can’t tell.

Oscar takes a quick glance at the joint and nods. He takes one final hit, a too-large inhale, and leans back to put the roach in the tray on the coffee table.

The air feels like molasses around him. Syrupy, thick and sweet. Just a little too warm to be comfortable.

Sweat prickles at the backs of his knees where they’re bent.

Oscar looks down at Lando, mouth ajar and eyes half-lidded, and feels like he’s swallowed the sun.

He leans in again, and exhales into Lando’s waiting mouth. Eyes wide open to watch him inhale and hold it.

Lando’s exhale lights Oscar up, like he’s blown on the embers in the pit of his stomach to start a bonfire instead of into his face.

Oscar closes the distance, suddenly desperate to touch, and kisses Lando.

Lando inhales sharply and wraps his arms around Oscar’s waist to pull him closer, hands hot like a brand even through Oscar’s shirt.

Oscar slides his tongue into Lando’s mouth, mapping all the places his breath has been that he hasn’t, and slows. The desperation cools, replaced with low-burning need, both too high for finesse or speed.

The world outside of Lando’s body below him and mouth on his disappears, narrowed down to nothing more than wet heat and the press of fabric against his knees.

It’s sloppy; lazily licking into each others’ mouths, breathing against each other.

Oscar could spend hours like this.

[quotefeeling]

Worrying is stupid, it's like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.

Wiz Khalifa

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Could I request III X reader where he shows up at readers house with flowers and confesses his feelings?

Forget-He-Didn't.

iii x GN reader!

Under the cut. <3

The smell of them stops you in your tracks, nose turned up to the sun in an effort to follow the trail. The suddenness in your mid-step freeze gives iii no time to stop before the length of his body collides with yours. “Fuck, sorry love. I wasn't paying attention… what's wrong?”

He lies. He was paying attention, probably too close attention to every step you were taking in front of him, but he'd rather die right this instant then place any of the blame on you. This cheesehead is head over heels for you, and apparently the whole world can see it BUT you. Which is as frustrating for him as it is for the rest of his bandmates and friends, you’d think a 6 foot something tree of a man ogling you at every given second with eyes brighter than the sky would be obvious… apparently it isn’t to the only person in the world he wants it to be obvious to. 

Those same eyes don’t leave you for a second, he watches you in silence sniffing the air like a puppy who’s caught wind of some treats nearby. He can’t stop the smile that grows on his lips at the way you look right now, he finds himself with aching cheeks more often than he’s willing to admit when it comes to you. You’re just so lovely to watch, and right now you’re killing him. Your head turns, gaze pointed across the street and before he can even follow your eyes, you’ve taken off across the road. Leaving him there on the footpath as you wander over to the shops that line the other side of the street. He grumbles something under his breath about being left behind as he steps off the footpath to follow closely behind you. 

“You know you’re supposed to hold hands when you cross the street. Haven’t you heard of street safety?” 

He mumbles to you once he reaches you, back in his rightful place by your side. He’d argue he’s the only one privileged enough to stand there. 

“Oh look at that iii, you lived.” 

You retort back to him a little playfully, and although his eyes always seemed to be cast to you, they somehow miss the light dust of a blush that dances across your cheeks and up towards the tips of your ears at his words. He might’ve caught it had he not dramatically rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head, he’s surprised they didn’t get lost back there. Being playful and cheeky with iii has always been easy, he is the embodiment of cheeky. He’s always got something sly to say, cracking some kind of joke or setting you up for a bit of banter. It’s always been lighthearted and fun, and the way his eyes light up when you can counter his playful snark breathes life into your very being every single time. You’d be a fool not to when he looks at you like that. 

The strongest smell of flowers hits him in the nose out of nowhere, the words he’d had ready to throw back to you die on his tongue when the scent encompasses him entirely. You’ve pulled him over to a florist, his eyes find you gazing lovingly at the beautiful bunches and bouquets of flowers that line the outside of the shop. 

“Flowers huh? I’m more of a box of chocolates guy myself but if you insist, my favourites are forget-me-nots.” 

He pokes at your side with a silly smile etched onto his face. 

“Forget-me-nots? I always pinned you as more of a sunflower lover.” 

What was a silly smile grows into a devious one. 

“You can pin me anytime you like darling.” 

He laughs at his own words, even though he’s being one trillion percent serious. But the way you shove him gently and turn your back to him to hide your own smile kicks his heart into gear. 

He studies you as you admire the flowers for sale, he watches you pick bunches of them up to smell each individual flower, appreciating every single one of them. 

There’s one though, that he noticed right away, that you keep going back too. It’s beautiful really. It’s stuffed with the prettiest blues and purples, the greens from the leaves bringing the bouquet together perfectly. You’ve picked it up three different times to admire it closely, and he’s positive you’ve cast your eyes back to it about a hundred times in the few minutes you’ve both been here. It’s clear you really like that one, but you continue on past the florist and back down the way you were headed before your nose pulled you over here. He takes one final look at it, committing it to memory before following you back down the street to enjoy what the rest of the shops here have to offer. 

“Not gonna buy any?”

iii asks you casually, wondering why you left without getting the one you clearly wanted. 

“Hm? Oh, no. Sorry to drag you over there, turns out I don’t exactly have the funds for those ones.” 

He nods along as you talk, hung up on every word that slips from your pretty lips.

“But you were thinking about it?”

Is he being obvious? He hopes not. Maybe. Maybe he hopes you get the hint and let him down easy before he can risk making a fool of himself. But the idea of your rejection sours his stomach immediately. 

“I was yeah, I love flowers but… you know, I don’t know…”

You trail off there without finishing your thought. iii wishes he could climb inside your mind and read every thought you’ve ever had. Every unfinished sentence. Every fleeting opinion. Every deep dark secret. Every hidden thought and feeling you’ve ever had about him. He’d read it all and he’s not even sorry about it. 

He doesn’t pester you about the flowers any longer. He settles for trailing closely behind you as you lead the way down the street. Weaving through people and families as you go. He’d follow you anywhere. He really would. And it’s now he realises he can’t keep living like this. His place is next to you. Not behind you. He wants to be in your heart and in your head every single waking second like you are in his. He’s silently fought and lost this battle countless times. The ‘do-I-don't-I?’ eating at him for longer than he’s proud of. Sometimes he’s so certain you’re about as in love with him as he is with you, and he’s positive that you’ll be his by the end of the day as he gears up to ask you out. But then the day comes to an end and things kind of just fizzle out, you say your goodbyes and scurry off and out of his reach without even so much as a second glance back at him. He’s laid awake into the early hours of the morning talking about you to anyone who’ll listen. His usual victims being IV and Vessel, they listen to him yap about everything you did that day, agreeing that it really did seem you had some kind of feelings for him. Each of them always confused about why you leave him hanging every time the day is over. He’s convinced himself you’re just worried about ruining the friendship, it quells his aching heart just enough to get him to sleep. Because in all honesty, it’s the same reason he hasn’t made any particular moves on you yet either. For a man that oozes confidence from every crevice of his being, he sure does overthink a lot. He’s thought of every single horrible outcome that could follow your rejection of his feelings for you, the biggest one… and the one that keeps his lips shut everytime… Is that you’ll pull away and he’ll lose you entirely. He’d rot from the inside out if that happened, he’s sure of it. iii has settled on the decision to keep you as what he’d call his best friend in the world, if that meant you never knew his true feelings, so many times he’s lost count. He’d give up the chance to have you how his heart craves, if it meant he’d never lose you. And he was okay with that. He really was. Until now. 

He’s a little quieter the rest of the day, you notice. Because of course you do. And it makes his heart soar that you pick up on these things. 

“Talk to me big guy, what’s going on in that brain of yours?” 

He stomps down on the obvious distraction he’s sporting right now, he throws you his best smile and waggles his brows at you suggestively.

“Big guy huh? Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The eye roll you give him in return does get a laugh from him, and he’s grateful he’s got something else to think about for a few minutes. Even though that something is still you, it dampens the black hole that opened up in the pit of his stomach. 

“You’re horrible. You know what I meant, iii. You’re not present.” 

And he sighs, because you’re spot on. But now is not the time, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry you or freak you out.

“I think I ate something bad last night… somethings not agreeing with me…”

He watches your face contort immediately, despite his lie, you still worry.

“You’re not feeling well?”

You blurt at him quickly, your eyebrows pull together to the middle of your face and you’re stepping closer to him before he can even settle you. Your hands are on his face, checking for his temperature and giving him a thorough once over to look for any signs of possible food poisoning. He has to crack a little smile, the affection that explodes for you in his chest is overwhelming and he swears he almost passes out because of it. He reaches up to grasp your wrists gently in his much larger hands and bring them back down to your level. Not without a quick caress of his thumbs on the underside of your wrists before letting go. Can’t blame the man for soaking you up as much as he can. 

“Relax you, I’m fine. I think I just need to take a nap or something. I’m not gonna die, not without taking you down with me anyways…” 

You huff a laugh at his words, and the little crease that was beginning to deepen between your brows seemingly disappears. He’s happy with that, but he can still pretty much smell the worry wafting off you in waves. 

“You wanna cut it short and head home? I don’t want to keep you when you’re not feeling well. I like my iii’s in tip top shape, you know.” 

He gasps dramatically, clutching a hand to his chest as his eyes widen. Gawking at you in the middle of the footpath, if anyone were to look over it would seem as if you had truly just broken his heart. 

“You know other iii’s?” 

You can’t help the cackle that rips from your throat. His dramatics never failing to get a laugh from you. 

“I… I just can’t believe this. Way to break a man’s heart. You know you really think you know someone. And then before you know it they have other iii’s in their life. I can’t do this…” 

The whole time, he’s got you in stitches. His dramatic, heart broken rambling just adding to the constant giggles erupting from your chest the longer he goes on. 

“You know what, you have a good day, with all of your other iii’s. I’ll leave you to it. Don’t mind me. Goodbye forever.” 

He yaps as he gently pushes past you to head back to the car. You follow closely behind him, picking up your steps to catch up to him. You quickly loop your arm with his and press the side of your face affectionately into his upper arm. Your cheeks hurt from smiling at his antics, and you gaze up at him with twinkling eyes. 

“You know you’re the only iii for me.”

The statement holds more weight to it than you’re hoping you let on, but with the way he looks down at you with slightly rosy cheeks, a big cheesy smile and eyes swimming with something you’re afraid to unpack, you worry for a moment he heard your secret loud and clear. 

“I know. And it’ll stay like that for the rest of forever, if I have any say in the matter.”

He retorts down at you, a lighthearted tone clear in his voice but you’d be willing to bet real money on the chance he’s being dead serious. 

You walk back to his car in a comfortable silence, your arm still looped through his and your face pressed into his arm. He’s fucking reeling above you, can barely bite back the grin that’s begging to break out on his lips. He keeps letting his eyes fall to you, adoring the way you look leant against him so comfortably. He might seem biased, and quite frankly he doesn’t give a hoot, but he swears you'd look so good if you were his. You already do. And sometimes he thinks you couldn’t possibly get more beautiful than you already are, but then he pictures you as his partner, not just his friend and you’re glowing. His dreams and visions might work out to be in his favour most of the time but he’s certain that you truly would glow standing next to him as his lover. He casts his eyes as you reach his car, he reaches for the passenger door and opens it up for you to slot yourself into. He watches you buckle up and get comfy before swinging the car door shut and making his way over to the driver's seat. He doesn't even have a second to put his own seatbelt on before you’re questioning him again.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to drive? I don’t mind giving ii a ring, you mentioned he was home today.” 

For a second there he forgets he even lied about that, he stares blankly at you trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about before he remembers and continues playing along.

“Don’t you worry, I’m well enough to drive you home at the very least. You think I’m gonna let short-ass interrupt the last few moments I have with you today? I feel bad enough I had to call it earlier than we planned.” 

You huff at him, partly for calling ii ‘short-ass’, poor dude can’t help his height. But also partly out of concern for iii’s guilt.

“iii you know damn well I’ll be seeing you again in a few days time. You don’t have to feel bad, just focus on feeling better. I told you, tip top shape.” 

He eyes you affectionately from his seat, giving you a soft smile that makes you feel a little better. He whips the car out of the parking spot and continues on back the way you came. Secretly, you’re fucking gutted. You love spending time with iii, you hate that you finally had a day of enjoying him on his own and it had to be cut short. You know it’s not his fault, poor guy probably feels like shit and he’s still making sure you’re getting home safe. The fact he wants to savour the car ride home alone with you sends thrills down your spine, you had to settle yourself down immediately the moment he said it. You would have smiled so big your cheeks cramped, you just know it. But still, your heart hurts a little. You can’t help the disappointment eating at you, and you’re sure iii can feel it, always so good at picking up on your moods. You silently remind yourself you’ll have him back again soon, hopefully on his own, you love the other guys but you’re a little selfish with iii. It’s nice when you can ogle him with heart eyes every time he turns his back to you without worrying about being caught. Vessel being the culprit for that one, he’s thrown you more questioning looks than you can remember over the time you’ve been in love with his bassist, yet you’ve never tried to be more careful. iii just has you forgetting where you are sometimes. Dangerous even when he’s not trying to be. 

The car ride is mostly silent, which usually isn’t all that weird. It’s easy for you and iii to slip into comfortable silence with each other when you know the other needs it, however this silence feels different. You’re sitting in his passenger seat, eyes cast out the window watching the city pass by as you try to fight off your sullen mood. And iii has crawled too deep into his own brain trying to talk himself out of the decision he’s made, a decision that could make or break his whole existence, a decision he thought he’d never make yet here he is. Both of you too distracted by your own thoughts, you don’t really pick up on the weird silence. 

He pulls into your driveway quicker than you wished he would have, you’re not ready to say your goodbyes to him just yet. It’s obvious he feels the same, usually when he’s got plans with you he’s bounding out of his seat and pulling you out of yours in seconds so he can get your plans started. But right now, especially given that your plans were cut a bit short today, you both linger in his car for a few moments too long. Slowly, you slide yourself out of the seat and shut the door behind you, him following suit and walking you to your front door. He drags his feet behind you, and waits next to you as you unlock the door and push it open. 

“You wanna come in? I can make you something that might make you feel better?”

And your offer is so tempting, because obviously he’s not sick from eating. But his anxiety is ramping up with each second that passes and it’s doing a number on him. He steels himself and shakes his head.

“No thank you love, I better get home to the guys. They can deal with me there, don’t need you seeing me at my worst.”

He offers you a little smile, but it doesn’t do much to make you feel any better. He can see your concern written on your face, he reads you like an open book. Within seconds he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, pulling you close to his chest and burying his nose into the top of your head. 

“I’m sorry about today Bub, I feel awful. I’ll make it up to you I promise. I’ve already got a plan.”

You can’t help the little giggle that flies from your lips at his eagerness to see you again, it causes a happy little smile to grow on your lips and in return, leaves iii’s heart racing inside his chest at the sight of it. He presses a big wet kiss to your hairline and pulls back, leaving you standing at your front door with slightly rosy cheeks. 

“You don’t owe me anything but your health, iii. Keep me posted, if I don’t hear from you I’ll knock your door down. I swear it.” 

He offers you his cheesiest grin, his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up. He’s just gorgeous, and you’ll never tire of seeing his beautiful face. The sight alone sends sparks down your spine and you have to remind yourself he’s still looking at you. 

“If you think I could go that long without pestering you, then you don’t know me at all. I’ll call you tonight love, pinky swear.” 

He sticks his pinky finger out between you both and looks at you with expectation clear on his face. You link your much smaller pinky finger with his and you each share a soft smile with the other. It’s a very cute moment, iii takes his pinky promises seriously so you know for sure, that even if the world was ending and he was on his last breaths… he would spend his last moments alive picking his phone up and dialing your number. His hand drops to his side and you both stand there for a moment, refusing to look away. It overwhelms you immediately, you can feel your cheeks darkening and nerves eating away at your insides within seconds. You can’t even stop the words before they tumble out of your mouth.

“Alright well, thanks for today iii. Talk soon.” 

You catch the way his face falls as you turn away from him and shut the door behind you. Sealing you off and hiding you away from his gaze, you kick yourself. You do this every time. Every time, after a wonderful day with iii, when every moment has been perfect and beautiful, you can never handle the weight of your own feelings and you quickly send him off before things go too far. The truth is, you are absolutely terrified of losing him. You freak out when things get a little soft between you two and you keep him at arms distance. You feel like a fucking fool every time, but you just can’t stop yourself. You’d never forgive yourself for things going south with iii because you couldn’t control your own feelings. So you always push him back a few steps every time you feel things tipping beyond friendship. You stand there with your forehead against the front door, trying to calm your racing heart. You hear him slowly walk back to his car, you feel horrible for leaving him there. You feel horrible every time it happens. But you just can’t risk losing him, you’d rather make yourself out to be a fool every single day of your life if it meant you’d never lose him. And you’re okay with that. It just has to be like that. 

iii stands at your front door, glaring at the blasted thing like it’s just stolen you from him entirely. There you go again, running off and acting like there’s not something there. You have to feel it. He feels cold. He forcibly blinks back tears that welled in his eyes the moment the door slammed shut behind you, casting his eyes to the sky to try and make them sink back to wherever it was they came from. He turns and drags his feet back to his car, it's empty without you in it. It’s quiet without you around, it’s cold without you stood next to him, where he swears you belong. He’s not doing this anymore. He throws himself into his car and reverses out of your driveway in seconds, taking off back towards the shops you two visited today. His heart is racing. He can feel his palms sticking to the steering wheel and he has to remind himself to breathe. He’s gonna do it. His decision is final. He’s not going to let you leave him cold and lonely one more time without answers. 

The whole drive back his mind is racing. Every single thought, being of you. He can’t help the doubt creeping from the pit in his stomach, up his spine and into his throat. He’s trying to flood himself with positives, thinking about how this is going to work and it’s going to go right. He tries not to, but he speeds down the street. He knows if you found out you’d scold him for it, but he needs to be quick. He’s turning up familiar roads, passing by shops you and him wandered past just a few hours prior. His eyes are wide and alert, trying to find the one he hasn’t stopped thinking about since you visited it today. The colours catch his eye first, and when the rest of the shop comes into view he almost parks the car on the footpath from how quickly he pulled into the vacant spot next to it. He rips his keys out of the ignition and whips his door open, throwing himself out of the seat and almost choking himself out in his own car because he didn’t unbuckle himself first. He grumbles about the bloody thing but doesn’t pay too much mind, he’s got more important matters at hand here. 

His feet hit the pavement and he jogs over to the florist, the same smell that almost took him out earlier welcomes him in now. The shop vendor eyes him curiously, iii doesn’t exactly blend into the crowd. If his height wasn’t recognisable enough, his interesting choice of fashion definitely is. And he’s positive the man running the cute little shop has a few questions running through his mind, partly as to why iii is back so soon, and also probably why on earth he’s skimming the few bouquets that have yet to be bought so frantically. iii looks manic. He feels it in all honesty, but if iii can acknowledge he feels a little off his chops right now he can only imagine what he looks like to a stranger. A bit of panic starts to set in because he isn’t immediately finding what he’s had his heart set on this whole time. His eyes meet the shop owners through the window and he all but bursts into the tiny room, words spilling out of his mouth before he can even say hello. 

“Blue… purple… it was out there before… I- I’m sorry, I just… I need that one, it was perfect I need it I’m so sorry-“

The shop owner can’t stop the smile that cracks at his lips, he turns to the small section of counter off the side, almost completely hidden away by the countless bouquets that sit upon it. Without a word he pulls the very bouquet iii has pictured himself giving to you for hours now. He could collapse. The sigh of relief that leaves him gets a chuckle from the man on the other side of the counter.

“Yes, yes that’s it. That’s… that’s the one thank you.”

iii is almost breathless, the panic of thinking his plan was about to turn to shit has dissipated, leaving him just a few moments of relief before the true anxiety settles in. The shop owner allows iii to pay for the flowers before wishing him luck and sending him on his way. He clutches them to his chest on the way back to his car, settling them in his passenger seat and buckling them in so they don’t roll about in the car on the way back to your house. He takes a moment to himself before leaving, he needs a deep breath and to sort his brain out before he sees you. His hands are trembling now, he tries to shake it off as he puts his car into drive and makes his way back through these streets for the fourth time today. 

The whole way back home he’s shitting himself. Anxiety has settled deep in chest and his stomach feels heavy. His palms sweat onto the steering wheel and he’s constantly having to wipe them on his jeans. He keeps screaming at himself to turn back to his own house and leave you alone, but he just can’t anymore. This is happening. He can’t decide if he wants to floor it back to you to get it over with quicker, or if he wants to take his time getting back so there’s more time between now and your potential rejection. The thought alone makes his throat tighten, he has to force deep breaths into his lungs just so he doesn’t throw up all over himself. He has never felt anxiety like this before. He’s never felt fear like this before. He might seem like someone who never worries about anything more than he needs too, but this could make or break his friendship with one of the best people in his life. If this doesn’t work he’s already considering fleeing the country. He knows how he’s going to break the news to Vessel and the guys, and he’ll be off to hide and wallow in his suffering for the rest of his life. He’s so deep in his sour thoughts that he doesn’t even realise the streets he’s traveling down are turning into the ones he’s traveled down countless times before. He’s on autopilot now, having made this very trip so many times to you he doesn’t even need to think about what way he’s going because he could do it blind. It isn’t until he’s pulling back up to your house that he realises the weight of the situation.

“Fuck… okay yeah fuck…”

He mumbles to himself as he turns into your driveway slowly and puts his car in park. He forces more deep breaths into his body before switching the car off and reaching over to unbuckle your precious flowers. He doesn’t let himself think about it, he throws himself out of his car, pockets his keys and makes his way on shaky legs to your door. His hand trembles as he reaches out to knock on your big wooden door, alerting you of his presence. No turning back now. More deep breaths. In out in out. He can hear you inside, making your way to him. His heart hammers in his chest. He hears the lock click open. His throat closes. He watches your beautiful face peak through the crack you’ve opened up. Confusion hits you immediately, because from your point of view you’ve got a face full of flowers and the most gorgeous pair of bright blue eyes peeking at you from over the bouquet. Of course you recognise him immediately, how could you not. But your hesitation kicks his brain into overdrive and he knows he needs to get his words out before it’s too late. 

“Don’t run. Please. Just let me explain.” 

His voice wobbles and it’s then you notice the slight tremble of the petals he’s hiding behind. His hands are shaking. Your face contorts and a frown pulls at your lips, your first thoughts being that something is wrong. 

“iii what… What's wrong? I thought you weren’t well.”

He can hear the worry in your voice and he panics, the last thing he wanted to do was freak you out or worry you. Although he knows you well enough to know that even if he took extra measures to try and avoid that, his efforts wouldn’t go very far. You’re his favourite overthinker, and he’ll spend the rest of his life soothing your racing thoughts if you asked him too. 

“Uhh… okay look I’m just going to say this all at your face and hope it goes well…”

A moment of silence passes between you both, you allowing him the time to gather his thoughts despite your growing worry with every passing second. And him allowing you to process that he’s about to drop a bomb on you. 

“I need you to know that no matter what happens today, you have been and always will be my best friend. I have cherished every single second with you but I’ve not been entirely honest with you and I can’t keep it from you anymore.”

You don’t move. iii has not cracked one joke or made some flirty comment to you the whole time he’s been speaking, the worry that something horrible has happened hits you and you blurt your words out before you can stop them.

“Are you leaving?”

Your voice breaks at the thought of it alone, and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. He drops the flowers to his side in shock and immediately reaches for you in an attempt to comfort you. 

“No! No no no, no love. Listen, just… just listen for a minute okay? I’m not going anywhere, I think… that might change depending on how this goes-“

He trails off at the end there and you just can’t take this suspense anymore. 

“Just spit it out iii you’re freaking me out.” 

The panic getting the better of you, again, blurting your words before thinking about how they’ll sound leaving your lips. But it’s clear this snaps him out of it because he looks right at you and-

“I’m in love with you.” 

Silence. 

Now your eyes are the size of dinner plates, but this time they fill with tears. You stand there, stuck in your doorway, staring at him. And he’s staring right back, frozen to his place at your doorstep screaming at himself internally. Begging you to say or do anything. 

“Love…?”

He asks you slowly, fear encapsulates his whole being and he feels as if he’s about to throw up on your shoes. He tries his hardest not too, that wouldn’t exactly get him any points in the love department and right now he’s scrambling for those points. He remembers the flowers he busted his ass to get and brings them up to you. Gently taking your hand and wrapping your fingers around the stems. His own hands trembling as he does so. You look down at them, and you realise they’re the flowers you fell in love with today. You came so close to buying them but couldn’t justify buying them for yourself so you let them go. And here they are, in your hands, with this silly silly man in front of you. He remembered. He noticed and he remembered. And he went all the way back in half the time it took you both to get there and back again just to get them for you. 

“Please say something.”

Your eyes snap to his right as a heavy tear drips down his cheek. This is real. It’s happening and it’s real and he’s in front of you. He looks like he’s at war. His eyes are miserable and his face shows no signs of life. You don’t move. No words come out.

You watch as he swallows thickly, nods quickly in acceptance of his unrequited love and turns away from you. He won’t stand here and beg you. He can’t bring himself to do it. To hear you tell him you don’t love him. He won’t be able to handle actually hearing you reject him. No words are better than words he’d never be able to forget, he supposes. iii is beyond devastated. He numbly walks back to his car and tries to blink his tears away. It didn’t work. He realises now he fully expected it too. He was positive it was going to work, he can’t believe it didn’t. All the flirting. All the special moments. The flowers. Those fucking horrid flowers. It’s over now, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. One thing is for sure, he’ll never look at a bunch of flowers the same ever again. 

You watch him get further and further away from you and it’s like a fire has been lit under your ass. You silently berate yourself. The one fucking moment you can’t think of what to say to him, and it just had to be during the single most vulnerable moment of iii’s life. You step off your doorstep and follow him to his car, your feet working overtime to get you there before he does. He hears it obviously, he snaps his body around to face you, you see the look of hope in his eyes. It’s clearer than the sky on a sunny day for Christ's sake. Fuck you’re so slow. You just watched his heart shatter and it’s your fault. He's fully facing you now, your flowers still clutched tightly in your hand and for a moment he thinks you’re about to smack him over the head with them. He’d let you. He deserves it. He’d let you drag him around by his ear and throw him into the dirt if it meant you’d stick around despite his foolishness. You don’t give him a second to prepare before you throw yourself at him. He catches you. Effortlessly, because of course he does. The confusion on his face doesn’t last long.

You smash your lips into his. Your free hand is in his hair keeping him close and his arms tighten around your body the moment his brain catches up. He holds you so close you’d think he was trying to become one. It almost hurts, but you don’t even care. He kisses you like you breathe life into him after a lifetime of living in misery. He kisses you like you are the only living thing on this planet that would keep him here. He kisses you like he’s spent his whole life loving you and it’s right now he realises you’ve loved him just as long. The kiss is deep. It’s messy and a little bit uncoordinated. You’re both so eager. There’s a lifetime of longing behind it. And the beginning of a new lifetime together hidden within each time your lips press back into each others. It’s wet. His tears slipping down his face get soaked into your skin every time he squishes his face into yours. You finally pull apart, positive your lips are red raw and swollen to an embarrassing level but you don’t have a moment to think about it because he’s pressing more kisses all over your face. He’s hiccuping. He’s sniffling. He’s smearing more wet tears into your face and he’s wearing the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“I love you, you tall freak. God I’m so sorry iii. I’m so sorry.”

You blurt as your own tears fill your eyes yet again. You’re apologising for more than just leaving him hanging back there. You know it. He knows it. It carries a lot of weight that you both definitely need to unpack. But right now you don’t care to, neither does he apparently because he doesn’t set you down. He keeps your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and his arms secured even tighter around your body. Pressed into his chest. Your hand somewhere on his body and your other still wrapped around your flowers. Those fucking flowers. The best idea he ever had. 

“Shut up I don’t even care- I mean I do care, but right now it’s not important we have more important things to catch up on.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Although you don’t think it would take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant, especially if the way he walks you both back to your front door and right back inside your house tells you anything, you’re willing to bet these ‘more important things’ involve a lifetime of kisses to catch up on. 

“W-wait iii… wait…”

You have to force his face from yours just to look at him properly, this man is on a mission right now. His cheeks are puffy from crying, his eyes still a little red. It breaks your heart yet makes it soar at the same time, you silently think youll never forgive yourself for breaking his fragile heart like you did before. You swear to yourself that you'll spend the rest of your life mending it. Despite his remaining tears, which truthfully, are happy tears now, he's still smiling. His cheeks most likely hurt but you'd bet he doesn't even care right now.

“You interrupt me after I finally get to kiss you. What kind of evil are you? This is killing me. I can't hold on much longer-”

He pretends you've wounded him, acting as if he's short of breath and every second he goes without his lips on yours is stripping years off his lifespan. You give him a light smack on the shoulder, still held up tightly in his arms. His dramatics will never die, so long as they keep that smile on your face. He gives you a look that tells you he is all ears. 

“I thought you were sick, what happened to this upset stomach of yours?”

The grin that grows on his lips is nothing shy of sheepish. His cheeks darken a little, although he knew it was most likely obvious he wasn't unwell, he didn't think you'd be so quick to catch on. 

“Heh, you know, I was just thinking the same thing. Look at us, so in sync already we are just made for each other. I guess I'm cured. Now back to it-” 

You stop him before he can get his wet lips back on yours, disappointment flashing in his eyes as you do so. 

“You are such a shit iii, i was fucking worried about you.”

He winces at your words, and settles you gently back on the floor in front of him. His hands still holding you, keeping you close. He might have put you down but you're a fool if you think you're taking even one step away from him. 

“I know, I know bub I’m so sorry. I couldn't come up with anything better, you would have worried anyway. I told you i would make it up to you, and one would argue i did quite the fucking job.”

He waggles his eyebrows at you like an idiot, because he knows he's right. You can't help the happy sigh that leaves you, nor can you stop the lovesick smile that adorns your lips when you look at him. Yeah. He made it up to you. You don't even need to admit it outloud, the way you look up at him tells him everything. 

“Right, now no more interruptions. We are busy. Say goodbye to your friends.”

His hand is intertwined with yours and he's making his way through your house like he owns the place. You let him drag you along, laughing at his odd words and so beyond over the moon this strange man loves you too. You take one last look at your flowers, before placing them down gently on a table nearby. You can't believe he noticed. Well you can, but he noticed because he loves you. You don't think youll ever get sick of remembering. 

He was right by the way. You're fucking glowing.

[wildglitch]

*Far in the future in Peter time in the DCU.*

JL Men: Spider-Man! Please listen to us!

Spider-Man: Counter offer, no.

JL Men: *absolutly done with his shit*

Wonder Woman: Can you please help us by doing this task Spider-Man?

Spider-Man: Yes Ma'am!

Spider-Man: *Procceds to do the task no questions asked*

JL Men: What the actual fuck!?

~Later~

Spider-Man: *Sitting in the cafeteria alone in peace*

Black Canary: *Walks in and sits directly across from him and stares right into his soul*

Spider-Man:...

Black Canary:...

Spider-Man:...Please dont tell them

Black Canary: What? The fact that you have mommy issues for Diana or the fact you have daddy issuses for half the men on the team?

Spider-Man:...*deep sigh*...my neighbor is going to give me so much shit for this

Black Canary: Your coming to therapy next week

Spider-Man: Ok...

BC & SM: ( ´･･)ﾉ(._.`)

[thoughtkick]

Don’t date the most beautiful girl in the world, Date the girl that make your world the most beautiful.

Wiz Khalifa

[thehopefulquotes]

Your life is a puzzle, dont waste your time trying to place people where they don’t fit.

Wiz Khalifa

[jusst-you-race]

oh re:pinned post you know im gonna ask for a carcar prompt... -wiz

if not vibing with that, dealer's choice with the word "mouth" maybe? lol

okay so I know you asked for carcar but I threw lando in there too because I couldn’t help myself… so here is a little borderline smutty carlandoscar thing

“Do you ever stop running your mouth?”

It’s something Oscar’s said to Lando before, but the soft, fond tone is gone when it’s directed at Carlos. It's icy cold, bordering on mean, sharp words only blunted where they’re muffled by Lando’s collarbones, where Oscar is currently biting.

Carlos scoffs from where he’s trying to work Lando’s pants off.

“You are liking me running my mouth.” He gestures at the obvious bulge tenting the front of Oscar’s shorts. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

Oscar’s eyes turn flinty, but Lando runs a hand through his hair affectionately and he settles back into marking up every inch of skin hidden by clothing. Lando tries not to laugh at how much more possessive Oscar is with Carlos here. Carlos presses his hand to where Lando is so hard he’s almost leaking into his underwear and Lando can’t help but whine at the pressure. Carlos practically growls in response.

“You like that, no? You are so hard and eager for us, Lando.”

Lando pants as Carlos grinds the heel of his hand down.

“Carlos…” he breathes. Oscar bites him. Lando grins.

“We are going to ruin you Lando.” Carlos continues talking, clearly unaware of the little exchange. “But that is what you wanted, is it not? That is why you begged me to join you, no? One cock is not enough for you. You are greedy.”

Oscar rolls his eyes.

“You sound like a bad porno.”

Carlos’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring.

“I do not hear you coming up with anything better.”

Oscar smirks, the corners of his mouth curling up like a cat.

“I think you come up with enough for both of us.”

Carlos lunges, and for a second Lando worries they’re about to start fighting, but instead they collide in a kiss that looks like it’s all teeth. Oscar is caught off guard for a second, before he presses back into the kiss, winding his hands into Carlos’s thick hair and pulling. Carlos groans and draws away from the kiss, panting. For a moment they just look at each other, gazes burning. Lando doesn’t move. Then they both lean back in, bridging the gap between them where Lando is lying.

He watches them from below, and if he wasn’t already turned on to the point of leaking then he certainly is now. Carlos takes Oscar’s lip between his teeth and tugs, and Oscar grunts in response. It’s the hottest thing Lando has ever seen, and he’s almost embarrassed by the loud moan that spills from his lips.

Oscar and Carlos both startle as if they’ve forgotten he’s there. Oscar blinks, and then gives Lando a smile that’s somewhere between sheepish and indulgent. Carlos continues to look at Oscar, an intense expression on his face.

“Sorry,” Oscar murmurs, absently stroking his thumb across Lando’s skin. “We were ignoring you.”

Lando shakes his head.

“No, no it’s fine. It was uh… it was really hot actually.”

Oscar’s smile turns sharp.

“Yeah? You like seeing me and Carlos together?”

Lando huffs. Carlos is still watching Oscar.

“Why d’you think I suggested this? The angry sexual tension thing you two do kind of does it for me.”

Oscar’s eyebrows go up like he’d never considered this. His gaze flicks over Lando’s face, considering. Lando can feel his cheeks heat in response to being examined in that way that Oscar does. Carlos tracks the movement of Oscar’s mouth. Eventually Oscar speaks.

“Well. You just lie there and look pretty then, if you want.” Oscar looks back at Carlos, his cool gaze meeting Carlos’s blazing one. “I’m sure Chili and I can entertain ourselves.”

Carlos frowns at the nickname and Lando knows it’s exactly the response Oscar wanted. Oscar plants a painfully tender kiss on Lando’s forehead and leans down to whisper in his ear.

“Be good and watch me ruin him.”

Lando moans embarrassingly loudly again. He nods so aggressively he thinks he might give himself a headache.

Oscar turns back to Carlos.