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oscpstri · 2 months ago

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born to ride | grid

ft. verstappen, norris, leclerc, sainz, piastri (fem!reader)

the perks of dating a formula 1 driver was that they had an arsenal of cars at their disposal and they knew how to drive them. but what if you took the wheel this time?

INCLUDES: fluff, its funny ok please laugh, use of y/n, use of endearments for certain drivers, they're cute, not proof read

NOTE: born to ride or wtv lana said. I GOT CARRIED AWAY W MAX AND LANDO SO IF YOU WANT MORE DRIVERS ILL GET TO IT IN ANOTHER POST !!!! these were the first ones i did before it got WAY TOO LONG

( masterlist | more grid )

★ MAX VERSTAPPEN

You should've known better.

Your boyfriend being a Formula 1 driver had its perks, one of them being the fact that you had a personal chauffeur whenever you had anywhere to be.

Ever since you and Max started living together, you had created a schedule to follow during the summer breaks. The both of you would run errands on Saturday morning, cook lunch together, then cuddle all day until the sun falls over the horizon. Simple enough.

Today was different, though. It was the first day off of the summer break and Max had spent the entirety of yesterday getting as much training as possible before putting his phone on Do Not Disturb. Because of this, he got home quite late and was absolutely exhausted. Poor guy didn't even get a chance to properly change out of his clothes.

You felt bad having to wake him up early, so you did what you thought was best. You took the car keys off the wall and started heading out as quietly as possible. As you turn the car on, you scroll through your phone to try and find the best music to fit the vibe. You were so lost in trying to find the perfect playlist that you didn't notice the blue-eyed blondie walking towards your side of the car.

A knock is what brings you out of your trance. You jump in your seat, startled at the sound before snapping your head towards your door. You could only sigh in relief as you saw the familiar face of your beloved in a hoodie.

He opens the door before you could even put your phone down, a deadpan look on his face. "I'm driving."

You stay frozen in your seat for a beat, before getting up and heading to the passengers side of the car. By the time you had settled in to your usual spot, Max immediately brings the car to life.

The both of you drive in silence for a few minutes. You would glance every so often towards your boyfriend but he only looked straight ahead.

You slump in your seat, a tinge of disappointment coursing through you as you start overthinking if you had fucked up. Max seems to notice this as he leans over to grab your hand from your lap, intertwining your fingers like you always do.

"I'm not mad. Just wake me up next time," he comments, glancing over to you with a gentle smile. You nod at this, muttering a 'sorry' in return.

"Schat, I literally drive for a living," he starts. "No matter how tired I am, I will always drive you. Always. As long as it's you."

"I'm sorry," you muster up, throwing him a sheepish grin. He smiles warmly at this, rubbing his thumb over your hand.

"No need to be sorry. I'm sorry if you thought I was mad." You chuckle at this, bringing your connected hands to your mouth and planting a kiss on top of his knuckles.

"But seriously, you have a four-time world champion at your service and you decide you want to drive yourself?" he starts, energy slowly coming in. "Schat, I literally won at driving. Four times!"

★ LANDO NORRIS

You had accepted the invite to your boyfriend dragging you around while they filmed for Quadrant all day. It was always a rare occurrence whenever Lando would be free to join in on his company's shenanigans, so you decided to come along.

It was lunch time and everyone was scattered around the area, munching away and socializing with the team. Although Lando had urged you to eat earlier on, you just didn't feel like eating anything. It was that time of the month and your appetite was never much for actual food during it. So while there was a good buffet in front of you fit for the whole team, you wanted cupcakes. But not just any cupcakes, Cecil's Cupcakes. This wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for the fact that Cecil's was an hour drive from where you were filming, and with only 20 minutes left before they start production again, you knew you couldn't drag Lando to drive you there.

So what did you do? You silently grab his car keys, sneak out of the huge building, and trudge towards the car park. It wasn't until you reached the door when you notice someone following you. And it wasn't until they got closer when you realized that it was the lovable face of Lando Norris doing so, one hand still holding on to his plate of food and the other shoving nutrients into his mouth.

Your eyes narrow upon seeing this, Lando stopping in his tracks when he notices that you've seen him. A boyish grin creeps up onto his face, still chewing on his food. "Where are we going?"

"We? You have to film in," you glance at your watch before looking back up at him. "15 minutes."

He swallows harshly, throwing away the plastic plate and utensils. "So? Not like they'll fire me."

You scoffed at his response, "Unbelievable."

Lando seems to hear this, walking towards the drivers side and stopping beside you. "So... where are we going?"

A smile creeps up onto your face, shaking your head in disbelief. "Cecil's."

Lando's eyes go wide at the bakery, stealing the car keys from your hand. "You were about to drive an hour to get cupcakes by yourself?"

He places his hands on your shoulders, pushing you towards the passengers side. You giggle at his actions. He opens the car door, pushing you down on the seat while muttering something under his breath. You couldn't make out what he said, but you heard the phrase 'did she forget?'

When Lando plops down onto the driver's seat, you laugh at the sulky look on his face. He looks at you like a hurt puppy before bringing the car to life. "Have you forgotten what I do for a living?"

You try to stifle your laugh, looking forward. "Lan, I didn't wanna disturb—"

Out of nowhere the car comes to a halt, your eyes go wide as you grip the seat. You turn to look at your boyfriend who was already looking at you with a crazed expression: eyes wide, mouth agape, "Is this your way of telling me I suck?"

Your facial features fall. You exhale loudly at the antics of your boyfriend, blinking at him with a deadpan look. "Seriously?"

He purses his lips, putting the car into drive again as you make your journey towards fluffy cupcakes. "I don't suck..."

"No you don't, my love."

★ CHARLES LECLERC

"Oh my god!" You get up from your position on the couch, head shot up from Charles' arms. He looks at you with both eyebrows raised, both concerned and shocked from your excitement.

You turn to look at him, shoving your phone screen in his face. "It's open! It's here!"

Charles raises an eyebrow at your happiness, taking your wrist and adjusting the screen so he could read what you were showing him. It was an Instagram post from your favorite coffee shop back in Spain. You and Charles had discovered the place when you went with him for the Barcelona Grand Prix and you were constantly praying for the day it would open a chain near you. And it finally did.

"Do you wanna go get some right now?" Charles asks, an endearing look on his face as he watches your eyes light up in delight. "Yes! Yes please!"

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, and before he knew it, you bounced off the couch and went to go get ready. Charles stayed on the couch, scrolling through his phone when he looked up as he felt your presence near him. When he met your figure though, his eyes went wide and it was his turn to bounce up off the couch.

"Why are you holding that?!" He exclaims, snatching the car keys that you were twirling around your finger. You blink in confusion, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"I'm gonna drive, duh." You said that like it was a given— like it was the most obvious answer in the world. This situation could have passed immediately, but Charles needed to be dramatic.

"What?! What do you mean drive yourself?!" He grabs you by the shoulders, eyes still wide like a crazed person. "Do you forget what I do for a living?!"

You laugh at this, shaking your head in disbelief. "You're seriously going crazy over the fact that I offered to drive?"

Charles shakes his head profusely in reply, grabbing your hands in his. "Mon amour, when I'm around, I drive."

"But you drive all the time!"

Charles starts stuttering, head still shaking like this was the stupidest concern in the world. "And? I drive. No questions asked."

You giggle as he grabs your hand, heading towards the door. "I drive. I always drive. I drive all the time. You should never drive."

"Charles, I get it—"

"I always drive you! Never do that ever again!"

★ OSCAR PIASTRI

You and Oscar had gotten home from the airport early and jet lag hit you two like a rocket. So as soon as the both of you got home, you dropped everything and headed straight to bed. Early enough that the sun was still setting and the two of you were already halfway to dreamland.

Here's the thing— you two never had dinner. So when you woke up at midnight, stomach grumbling like a lion, you weren't exactly surprised. You weren't surprised either that your boyfriend was still asleep next to you, the different time zones affecting him more than the lack of food.

You slowly got out of bed and trudged sleepily to the kitchen. Your eyes were barely open and your hair was the standard definition of bedhead.

You rummage through the refrigerator like a mad man, trying to find anything that could satisfy you. Upon finding nothing, you slump into a chair, head in your hands as you try to fend off both the sleep and the hunger. You thought that this was it, you were about to fall back asleep at the kitchen table in the dead of night, until a glint of silver catches your eye.

Oscar's car keys.

It lay perfectly by the end of the table, shining in all its glory. It was practically calling out to you, screaming your name, directly hit by the kitchen light like it was put there for you.

So what did you do? You got up and took it. You pocketed it in your pajama pants and headed back into the bedroom, making a beeline for the first hoodie you saw lying about. As you put it on, you could instantly tell it was Oscar's.

You thought you were being quiet, pacing around the room trying to find a clip, hair tie, anything to make your hair not look like it was ran over by a train. But apparently you weren't, because as you turn around to open the door and leave, you stop dead in your tracks when you hear—

"Y/N?"

You turn on your heel, slowly taking in the tired appearance of your boyfriend on your bed. He was sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking at you with a worried expression.

"Where are you going? It's—," he reaches for his phone, blinking profusely when the light from the screen practically jolts him awake. "It's midnight."

You walk over to him, sitting on the bed. "I'm hungry."

He blinks, eyebrows furrowing. "Okay. Is there nothing in the kitchen?"

You shake your head in response. Oscar starts getting out of bed, also pulling a hoodie on. He takes your hand and you follow as you both head out. He seems to notice that his car keys weren't where they usually were. He doesn't say anything, probably not to alarm you, but you already knew he was panicking deep down.

You fish the keys out of your pocket, poking his arm and dangling it in his face. He blinks comically, "You were about to drive yourself to get food?"

Now it was your turn to blink, a sheepish smile now on your face. You lower the car keys, nodding slowly. "Yeah?"

Oscar was surprised, you knew that for a fact. He was normally the one that drove you around. He treated you like a queen— never letting you even touch the steering wheel like his life depended on it.

He nods slowly, "Okay."

The both of you stand there for a minute, not really knowing what to do or say. You shift uncomfortably under your boyfriend's gaze, not exactly knowing what he was feeling in that moment.

"Do you want to drive?" He softly asks, taking your hand in his. Your mouth is slightly agape, barely stuttering out a reply. "Yeah. Why? Do you wanna drive?"

"No, it's fine," he shakes his head, pulling you closer to him. "Well, that's my job but... you can do whatever you want to do."

You smile softly at this, looking up into his eyes.

"But," he starts, piquing your interest. "Can I come with you?"

You laugh at this, resting your forehead on his chest. "Of course."

★ CARLOS SAINZ

Carlos insists that Monaco is too chaotic for you to be driving yourself and that you're too pretty to be doing any hard labor. Which is why no matter the time and the date, he always insists on driving you everywhere.

Until today.

You were getting ready to go out. One of your close friends was flying into Monaco and you were going to give them the privilege of showing them around. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend was out training so you had to drive yourself. This wasn't really ever a problem, Carlos just always made it out be one.

You had texted him an hour ago about the arrangements you had made. You informed him that you would be gone for the day and not to be surprised if he came home to an empty house. He was busy so you weren't surprised that he never replied.

You grab your car keys on the way out and take one last final look in the mirror. As you open the door though, you're surprised to see the love of your life standing outside. Your eyes go wide at this, mouth slightly agape. Why was he here?

"Amor?"

He smiles when he sees you. His eyes drop down to what you were holding and his eyes narrow. "Ay, you're not supposed to be holding this."

He takes the keys from your hand and replaces it with his hand instead, grinning at you from ear to ear when you look at him with a done expression. "What are you doing?"

He perks up at this, heading into the house and closing the door behind him. "I'm driving you, of course."

He says it like it was an obvious answer, immediately darting to change out of his sweaty clothes into a fresh set. You follow after him, shaking your head at your boyfriend's antics.

"Seriously, Carlos? You dropped halfway through training to drive me?"

He stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, a mischievous smile on his face. "Of course, cariño."

"Your trainer is going to kill me."

He walks up to you adjusting his shirt and bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead. "He'll have to get through me first."

You're weak in the knees from his actions, accepting his hand as he drags you out of the room. "I can drive myself, you know?"

He stops when you reach the living room, turning his body to look at you. "Eh? Drive yourself? Your hands cannot be damaged by hard leather."

You quirk an eyebrow at his words, "Hard leather?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "Of the steering wheel, duh."

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the smile that forced its way onto your face. Upon seeing this, Carlos smiles even more. He squeezes your hand before leading you both towards and out of the door.

"Road rage does not suit you, amor. Let me handle the driving."

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mcmansionhell · 1 year ago

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namesake mcmansion

Howdy folks! Today's McMansion is very special because a) we're returning to Maryland after a long time and b) because the street this McMansion is on is the same as my name. (It was not named after me.) Hence, it is my personal McMansion, which I guess is somewhat like when people used to by the name rights to stars even though it was pretty much a scam. (Shout out btw to my patron Andros who submitted this house to be roasted live on the McMansion Hell Patreon Livestream)

As far as namesake McMansions go, this one is pretty good in the sense that it is high up there on the ol' McMansion scale. Built in 2011, this psuedo-Georgian bad boy boasts 6 bedrooms and 9.5 baths, all totaling around 12,000 square feet. It'll run you 2.5 million which, safe to say, is exponentially larger than its namesake's net worth.

Now, 2011 was an anonymous year for home design, lingering in the dead period between the 2008 black hole and 2013 when the market started to actually, finally, steadily recover. As a result a lot of houses from this time basically look like 2000s McMansions but slightly less outrageous in order to quell recession-era shame.

I'm going to be so serious here and say that the crown molding in this room is a crime against architecture, a crime against what humankind is able to accomplish with mass produced millwork, and also a general affront to common sense. I hate it so much that the more I look at it the more angry I become and that's really not healthy for me so, moving on.

Actually, aside from the fake 2010s distressed polyester rug the rest of this room is literally, basically Windows 98 themed.

I feel like the era of massive, hefty sets of coordinated furniture are over. However, we're the one's actually missing out by not wanting this stuff because we will never see furniture made with real wood instead of various shades of MDF or particleboard ever again.

This is a top 10 on the scale of "least logical kitchen I've ever seen." It's as though the designers engineered this kitchen so that whoever's cooking has to take the most steps humanly possible.

Do you ever see a window configuration so obviously made up by window companies in the 1980s that you almost have to hand it to them? You're literally letting all that warmth from the fire just disappear. But whatever I guess it's fine since we basically just LARP fire now.

Feminism win because women's spaces are prioritized in a shared area or feminism loss because this is basically the bathroom vanity version of women be shopping? (It's the latter.)

I couldn't get to all of this house because there were literally over a hundred photos in the listing but there are so many spaces in here that are basically just half-empty voids, and if not that then actually, literally unfinished. It's giving recession. Anyway, now for the best part:

Not only is this the NBA Backrooms but it's also just a nonsensical basketball court. Tile floors? No lines? Just free balling in the void?

Oh, well I bet the rear exterior is totally normal.

Not to be all sincere about it but much like yours truly who has waited until the literal last second to post this McMansion, this house really is the epitome of hubris all around. Except the house's hubris is specific to this moment in time, a time when gas was like $2/gallon. It's climate hubris. It's a testimony to just how much energy the top 1% of income earners make compared to the rest of us. I have a single window unit. This house has four air conditioning condensers. That's before we get to the monoculture, pesticide-dependent lawn or the three car garage or the asphalt driveway or the roof that'll cost almost as much as the house to replace. We really did think it would all be endless. Oops.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

#architecture #design #mcmansion #mcmansions #ugly houses #interior design #mcmansion hell #bad architecture #2010s #maryland

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cbeargyu · 1 month ago

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just a bet for you [2]

summary: you fall for him, deeply, blindly. you give him everything—including your first time. but when he confesses it was all part of a bet, your world collapses. months later, he realizes too late that his feelings were real. but now, you’ve moved on, and when he tries to reach you, you make it clear: he doesn’t get a second chance.

pairing: heesung x fem!reader

genre: high school au, angst, heartbreak, slow burn, betrayal, one-sided love, emotional fallout.

warnings: emotional manipulation, virginity loss, betrayal for a bet, mentions of bullying, intense emotional scenes, crying, self-worth issues, explicit heartbreak, mention of physical intimacy, slap scene, heavy angst, no happy ending.

wc: 4,3k

notes: hi!!🩷 thank you so, so much for all the love the first part of this story received, it honestly made me so happy to see the response :D! you guys make me really happy, i love you all so much. stay tuned because i’ll be posting the other two heesung stories i promised you soon <3 also, if you want to be added to the taglists for upcoming fics, feel free to fill out this form! you can specify which groups or idols you’d like to be tagged in, it would help me stay a bit more organized 🫶🏻

PART 1 HERE.

taglist: @rikiholic @jjongsies @heelovesmeknot @imzhouxinyu @firstclassjaylee @xoxobooksstuff @bbokaricentral @bonsaijoons @ily6968 @annnna1234 @lavxndxrsworld @titttuaf @ball-312 @yujinsbabyi @guppiechuu @mymentalityprince @g3n3v13v33 @pjselee @lovetia @ikeulims @skzenhalove @kukkurookkoo @leechqnsgirl @wonniejamz @lookmaxxxomg @meowmeowjang @yeahhhhsuperhumannn @hyuukas @aheewonenthusiast @lilyofthevalley6 @fabulousarepo4 @zhenyaf1z @antisocialties @deezbin @princesspeachicedtea @heeseungissm

you didn’t go to school for two weeks after it happened.

at first, you told your parents you were just tired. that maybe you were coming down with something. that your body ached. and it was true, in a way—your body did ache, but not from any illness they’d understand. the ache sat deep in your chest, in your lungs, in the pit of your stomach. it made it hard to breathe, hard to eat, hard to sleep without waking up in tears.

you cried until your throat burned. until your pillow was soaked. until your fingers curled into your sheets in the middle of the night, wishing you could claw him out of your memory. you kept replaying it over and over again—how he held you, how he kissed your forehead, how gently he moved inside you, how he fed you soup and looked at you like you were made of glass. and then how he broke you in the same room he touched you like you mattered.

you didn’t understand.

you couldn’t understand.

someone who loved with actions—who tied your shoelaces when they came undone, who waited at the gate after school, who sat in silence with you in the library just to be near you—how could that all be a lie? how could someone fake the way his thumb brushed over your hand while you solved equations, or the way he held you like the world outside your bedroom didn’t exist?

you told yourself there had to be something real in it. maybe not all of it. but something. he couldn't have done all that just for a bet… right?

but while you cried yourself sick, the others were laughing.

heesung and his friends—jay, sunghoon, the others who had always hovered around like shadows—were joking about it in the cafeteria. about how you’d fallen hard. about how easy it had been. jay even said he didn’t think you’d go through with it. sunghoon just laughed and said, “i guess love makes girls blind.”

and heesung?

he laughed too.

smirked and said, “i told you. i knew she’d give in. i know her type.”

and maybe something in him tightened when he said it. maybe something in his chest flickered, sharp and bitter. but no one noticed—not even him. because in front of his friends, his pride had to survive. so he played along. like you had meant nothing. like none of it had mattered.

and yet… when you came back, everything changed.

you walked into school two weeks later with your head held a little higher. your eyes were tired, but they didn’t tremble anymore. your uniform was the same, your hair was the same, but there was something different about the way you carried yourself. you smiled at your teacher when she welcomed you back. you answered roll call like nothing was wrong. when people whispered in the halls, you didn’t flinch.

you told everyone your parents had taken you out of town to visit your grandmother. “we didn’t plan it,” you said easily. “they just made the decision last minute. no signal where we were.”

you sat in class like normal. you took notes. you even hummed quietly during break.

and people noticed.

not in the cliché, dramatic way. not like you suddenly became the “hot girl.” it was quieter than that. it was in the way people looked twice when you walked by. the way they hesitated before talking about you. the way they no longer saw you as invisible, but as something they couldn’t quite define.

and heesung noticed too.

he saw the way your posture had changed. the way you didn’t glance around nervously anymore. the way you answered questions with confidence, how you laughed with classmates you never used to talk to. something about your presence was louder now, even if your voice wasn’t.

and for the first time since he left your house, he started remembering.

he remembered how your hands shook when you first held his. how your eyes lit up when he brought you strawberries one afternoon because you mentioned liking them in passing. how he watched you sleep once, and something inside him clenched in a way he didn’t understand back then.

he told himself it was all an act. that he was just playing the part. that every kind gesture, every glance, every soft breath against your skin was planned.

but not all of it was.

some things just... happened. some moments weren’t rehearsed. and now, watching you from across the room, something sharp curled beneath his ribs.

regret.

and that feeling only deepened when, one afternoon, you were walking past the lockers and someone called your name.

“y/n!”

you turned, blinking, and found a boy you didn’t recognize very well—jake, from class 1-b. tall, warm smile, honey-brown hair. he jogged over with a little out-of-breath laugh.

“you dropped this earlier in the hallway,” he said, holding out your pen.

you blinked at it, surprised. “oh… thank you. i didn’t even notice.”

“yeah,” he grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “figured you’d want it back. it’s cute. the little star charm’s cool.”

you laughed, a small, real sound. “it was a gift. from myself.”

he laughed with you. “solid choice.”

he walked with you to class that day. not flirtatious. just easy. light.

and heesung saw it all from the other end of the hall—your laugh, your comfort, the way jake looked at you like you were bright and new.

and something in his stomach twisted.

for the first time, he wasn’t part of your world.

he had no place there anymore.

and maybe—just maybe—that was the part that hurt the most.

heesung didn’t notice it all at once.

at first, it was just a quiet discomfort. something small. like the subtle ache of a bruise you forgot was there until someone brushed against it. a flicker in his chest that he ignored. a hollow feeling he pushed down with laughter and noise.

he told himself he didn’t care. that he had won. that it was just a bet and he had gotten what he wanted. his friends kept saying it, too—how easy it was, how good the payoff had been, how funny it was that you actually cried.

but every time they said your name like it was a joke, something in him tensed.

still, he smiled.

still, he laughed.

because that’s what he was supposed to do.

until you came back.

you walked into school like someone who had been rebuilt. not louder, not flashier, not dressed any different—but something in you had changed. you didn’t slouch anymore. you didn’t stare at the floor when people passed. your steps were quieter, but more certain. like you didn’t need to be noticed to be seen.

and worse—you didn’t look at him.

not once.

not even when your eyes passed over his. you looked right through him. like he wasn’t there. like the boy you gave yourself to had died and become someone you didn’t recognize anymore. it was the first time he realized you could move on. that maybe he hadn’t broken you the way he thought he did.

and that’s when it started.

the ache.

every day after that, it grew heavier. he tried to ignore it—he flirted with other girls in the hallway, he laughed louder than necessary, he stayed out late. but none of it filled the space you left behind. the silence of your absence followed him everywhere, curling like smoke around his collarbones, pressing against his lungs.

and then came jake.

at first, he didn’t even know the guy’s name. just some quiet boy from a different class—friendly, golden-haired, always polite to teachers. but suddenly, he was sitting beside you during lunch. carrying your books when your arms were full. walking with you to the gate after school. he never touched you too much, never made it look like anything romantic, but it didn’t matter.

heesung saw the way you smiled around him.

not the way you used to smile at heesung—shy and tentative—but brighter. lighter. like you were no longer afraid of breaking.

and worst of all, jake did things heesung used to do.

he tucked your hair behind your ear when the wind blew too hard. he waited for you outside the library, leaning against the wall with both hands in his pockets like it was the most natural thing in the world. he passed you notes in class—not cheesy ones, but simple things like “don’t forget to eat lunch today” or “i hope your morning was kind.”

and every time heesung saw one of those moments unfold, his chest tightened.

because he remembered.

he remembered how you used to look at him like that. how you used to reach for his hand without thinking. how you once whispered “thank you for choosing me” after he kissed your forehead in your room.

he told himself it was all fake. that he had played a role, nothing more.

but some of it hadn’t been fake.

some of it had been instinct.

some of it had been real.

and now it was gone.

sometimes, at night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking of the way your voice trembled when you said you were happy your first time had been with him. the way you clung to the blanket when he stood to leave. the way you ran after him, bare feet against the floor, tears already falling—and he didn’t turn around.

he should have turned around.

now you were healing without him.

and he… he was unraveling.

that's why he didn’t expect to see you again that day.

it was just a normal afternoon—at least, that’s what it was supposed to be. the courtyard was half-empty, students trickling out after class in lazy, aimless waves. heesung had been walking with jay and sunghoon, shoulders slouched, backpack hanging loosely from one strap, half-listening to some story jay was telling that didn’t really matter.

he wasn’t paying attention. not until he heard your laugh.

soft. low. the kind of laugh that used to only come out when you were comfortable, when you forgot to be afraid. he froze instinctively—eyes lifting before his mind could stop him.

there you were.

sitting on the edge of a planter box under the tree near the gate, legs crossed at the ankle, your head tilted as you listened to jake say something beside you. he was holding a bottle of water, a backpack slung over one shoulder. he handed it to you, and you took it with a small smile, your fingers brushing his for just a second.

heesung couldn’t hear what you were saying. but you were smiling. you looked healthy. rested. you looked like you hadn’t spent weeks crying over him in the dark. you looked like you’d finally let go of the hand that once shattered you.

and you didn’t look his way—not once.

that was the part that felt the heaviest.

“damn,” jay muttered beside him, loud enough for the others to hear. “she moves on fast.”

sunghoon snorted. “wonder if she cried in jake’s arms, too.”

they laughed. a few other boys chuckled with them. someone else said, “what was her name again? the one you took home? y/n, right?”

heesung didn’t say anything. he kept walking, but his pace slowed.

“maybe she’s just collecting boyfriends now,” jay added with a grin. “first heesung, now jake. who’s next?”

“bet jake has no idea she was begging heesung to stay, crying like a kicked puppy.” sunghoon whistled. “guess jake likes secondhand toys.”

the laughter grew louder. more shameless. more cruel.

heesung stopped walking.

he didn’t say a word. he didn’t laugh. he just stared straight ahead, jaw clenched so tight it ached. his fingers curled tighter around the strap of his backpack, knuckles white.

they were still talking about you like that. like you were nothing more than a punchline. like you hadn’t mattered. like you hadn’t loved him.

and he said nothing.

because saying something would mean stepping out of the mask he’d been wearing this whole time. it would mean breaking the image. it would mean admitting that you weren’t just another girl. that what he did wasn’t just a joke. it would mean facing everything he’d been trying to ignore since the moment he left your house and walked away from the girl who had given him everything.

he told himself it was better this way. that it was cleaner if he stayed silent.

but his silence was starting to rot him from the inside out.

you were still sitting there, unaware. jake stood up, pointing at something in his phone, and you leaned slightly to look. he held the screen closer, and your knees brushed lightly—casual, natural, the kind of touch heesung remembered vividly.

and for a second—just a second—he wished he could go back.

not to change what happened, not to undo it, but to tell you that it hadn’t all been a lie. that not everything had been a game. because when you smiled at him, something inside him had moved. and when you cried, something inside him hadbroken. he just hadn’t known what to do with that feeling. so he buried it. mocked it. pretended it never happened.

and now it was too late.

jay slapped a hand on his shoulder. “what, you mad he’s got her now?”

he didn’t respond.

just shook him off gently, like the touch annoyed him.

because yeah. maybe he was mad.

but not at you. not at jake.

he was mad at himself—for letting go of the only person who ever looked at him like he wasn’t just a name behind a pretty face. for breaking something he didn’t know how to fix. for being too much of a coward to say, “stop,” when they started laughing.

and for still staring at you like you were his, when he gave you every reason to walk away.

he laid on his back, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.

the room was quiet except for the hum of his fan and the soft ticking of the clock on his desk. it was late—past midnight, maybe closer to two—but sleep didn’t come easily anymore. not the kind that left you rested. not the kind that made mornings worth waking up for.

his body was still. but his mind wouldn’t shut up.

he hated how loud your memory was in silence.

he closed his eyes and it came rushing back. the way your fingers curled in his shirt when you kissed him the first time. how you trembled under his touch but still whispered “i want this with you.” how you winced when he entered you, how your nails dug into his back as you cried out, how you smiled, teary and flushed, afterward, whispering “i’m happy it was you.”

he hadn’t meant to remember all of it—but it wouldn’t leave him alone.

the way you used to wait by his locker just to walk home together. the way you brought him tangerines because he said he liked them once. the way you blushed whenever he tucked your hair behind your ear. how you laughed when he teased you softly. how your voice always dropped when you said his name like it meant something more.

he thought he’d buried all of that. he thought forgetting you would be easy.

but nothing about you was forgettable.

he sat up in bed, breathing heavy now, like the air around him had thickened. there was a tension in his chest—an ache that didn’t go away when he rubbed his hands over his face. it stayed there, lodged in his ribs, aching like guilt, like grief, like a question he’d never asked himself until now:

did i love her?

and the silence answered back:

yes.

yes, he did. maybe not from the start. maybe not all at once. but somewhere along the line—between the library books and your gentle voice and the way you looked at him like he was someone worth loving—he had fallen for you.

and now you were gone.

really gone.

not just physically, but emotionally. spiritually. you no longer belonged to his world. you no longer turned at the sound of his name. he could pass you in the hallway and it would be like walking past a ghost.

he hesitated, looking at his phone on the nightstand.

his heart beat faster.

his hand trembled slightly as he reached for it, thumb hovering over your contact. it was still there. he never deleted it. he never even changed your name. just y/n—plain, simple, the way you saved yourself in his phone that first night.

he stared at it for too long.

what do i say?

what could i say?

sorry? i miss you? i didn’t mean it? i was wrong?

they all felt hollow. they all felt too late. but he pressed the call button anyway, like maybe—maybe—you’d still want to hear his voice.

it rang once.

then the screen went black. call declined.

he froze.

his stomach dropped.

he tried again. and this time—

“this number is not available.”

his throat tightened. he tried to breathe through it, but his chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

you had blocked him.

not muted. not ignored. not paused.

blocked. completely. entirely. with finality.

and just like that, it hit him like a blow to the ribs.

she doesn’t want to hear from me. she’s done.

what did he expect?

that you’d pick up in the middle of the night, voice soft and sleepy, still waiting for him? that you’d cry again, say his name, beg for answers? that you’d run into his arms like nothing had happened?

how fucking foolish.

his fingers tightened around the phone, then let it drop beside him with a dull thud.

you weren’t waiting. you weren’t hoping. you weren’t his anymore.

you had walked away. healed. outgrown him.

and he—he had stayed the same. still pretending. still running. still hiding behind silence and laughter and people who didn’t care if he burned.

he laid back down, arm over his eyes, chest hollow.

he wouldn’t call again.

he wouldn’t message.

he wouldn't show up pretending to be brave.

not because he respected your decision—but because he was a coward.

and because facing your rejection now would destroy what little was left of him.

so he let the silence stay.

just like you had.

days had turned into weeks, though heesung wasn’t sure when the shift had occurred. time had begun to bleed together, slow and indistinct, like the blur of water slipping down a window during a storm. everything felt quieter than before, but not in the peaceful way—no, it was the kind of silence that made his skin itch, that wrapped around his lungs and refused to let go, like grief that hadn’t quite finished forming. he still walked the same halls, still sat in the same classrooms, still laughed at the same tired jokes, but the world around him felt distorted, as if nothing was quite where it used to be. and it wasn’t. not really. because you weren’t there anymore—not in the way that counted.

you didn’t look at him anymore. didn’t flinch when you passed each other. you didn’t hesitate, or soften, or seem remotely affected by the empty space he left behind. and maybe that was what finally started to eat at him—not your absence, but your indifference. it was easier when he thought you hated him. hate meant fire. hate meant he still lived somewhere inside you. but now... now you looked through him like he had become translucent, like he no longer held a single thread to your world. and god, it hurt more than he could stand.

he told himself he didn’t care. repeated it like a prayer each night when he stared at the ceiling in his dark room, one arm slung over his eyes to block out everything except his thoughts. but the truth clawed at him like something alive. he remembered everything—your hands in his, the soft pull of your smile, the way your head fit perfectly on his shoulder, how your voice cracked when you said “i’m glad it was you.” he had tried to forget, but it came back in waves, sharp and suffocating. he remembered how you kissed him like he mattered, how you trembled but still trusted him, how your eyes fluttered open afterward, full of something so painfully pure it nearly undid him.

he couldn’t forget. not anymore.

the ache that came with those memories had become unbearable—dense in his chest, heavy in his throat. and when he walked into the chemistry lab that afternoon, all he wanted was to disappear for a little while, to escape the noise of the halls and the suffocating press of guilt that followed him like a shadow. he didn’t expect to see you there.

you were standing near the lockers, facing away from him, your body half-tucked behind the tall cabinet where the beakers and tongs were kept. you moved carefully, methodically, as if each motion served a purpose. your back was straight, your hair pulled out of the way, the sleeves of your uniform rolled just slightly. you looked so calm, so self-contained. you looked nothing like the girl he remembered sobbing under a blanket while he walked away.

he froze. completely.

for a moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. he felt like the air had thickened, like he had walked into a memory and it had decided to come alive just to punish him. his gaze locked on you, and as if some invisible string snapped taut between you, you turned.

your eyes met.

and everything around him went still.

his heartbeat stuttered. there was a pressure behind his eyes, behind his ribs, like something raw had clawed its way out of him. and for the briefest second, he thought maybe—maybe—there was something still left. maybe you’d say something, anything.

but then you blinked, cold and calm, and turned away again without a word.

you folded your lab coat neatly, placed it on the stool beside you, and grabbed your bag. you were already halfway to the door when his body reacted before his mind could.

“wait—”

his voice cracked through the silence, rough and desperate.

you paused, fingers on the sliding door, shoulders tense.

“please. y/n… wait.”

he moved toward you, slowly, like every step cost him something. and just before you could open the door, he reached out, fingers brushing your wrist.

you flinched.

your reaction was immediate, electric—your body snapped away like he had burned you. your eyes turned to his, not wide with surprise or hurt, but narrowed with fury and something else—disgust. your voice, when it came, was sharp and low and full of ice.

“don’t touch me.”

he stepped back instinctively, guilt spreading across his face like poison. he lifted his hands slightly, palms open as if to show he meant no harm. but it didn’t matter. it was already too late.

“i just… i need to talk to you,” he said, voice softer now, almost breaking. “please. i know i don’t deserve it. but just let me—”

“you used me.” your voice cut through the room like a blade, and he fell silent instantly. “now you want me to believe you care?” you shook your head, bitter disbelief dripping from every word. “don’t insult me. save your guilt for someone who asked for it.”

he took a shallow breath, but your words didn’t stop.

“you didn’t defend me when they laughed at me.” your tone trembled now—not with weakness, but with pain long held. “you laughed with them.” you stepped forward, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “so don’t act like you regret it now.”

his lips parted, his throat worked, but nothing came. not until you finally said the last thing he’d been terrified to hear.

“you never loved me, heesung.” your voice cracked, but you didn’t look away. “you loved the way i looked at you.”

that broke him.

he looked down, shoulders heavy, breath unsteady. he wanted to deny it, to explain, to beg—but the truth swelled inside him like a wound finally bursting.

“i did,” he said softly, eyes flicking back to you, desperate. “i did love you. i swear i didn’t know it until after, but—” he choked, biting down the panic that rose in his chest. “yes, it started as a joke. a fucking stupid bet. but it stopped being one the moment you smiled at me like i meant something. when you held my hand, when you kissed me back, when you… when we were in your room, and i held you—”

you slapped him.

hard.

his head jerked slightly to the side, the sting spreading across his cheek like fire.

you were shaking now, but your voice was steady.

“don’t you dare bring that night up.”

your eyes were red, but not from weakness. from rage. from betrayal. from the kind of heartbreak that people don’t walk away from whole.

“you planned it. all of it. you got close to me just to win. you let me fall. you let me love you knowing the whole time you were going to rip me apart. and you did.” your voice rose, thick with tears now spilling freely down your cheeks. “i hate you, heesung. i hate you. leave me alone.”

he opened his mouth, but you were already walking away, grabbing your coat and bag, shoving past him like he wasn’t even there. and this time, he didn’t follow. he didn’t try to stop you. he just stood there, one hand on his cheek, chest collapsing in on itself.

he watched you disappear through the door.

and for the first time, he didn’t just feel regret. he felt loss. real, permanent, irreparable loss.

and he knew.

you would never look at him again.

not even with hate.

because even that… required caring.

and you were done.

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gb-patch · 3 months ago

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Demo news here!

(From the desk of GB ✍️) Hello everyone! Since the demo updates are gonna be different going forward, I wanted to make a whole post about what to expect. Typically, we'd make little updates to round out what's in the demo better while still keeping it (somewhat) demo-sized. Now though, we're going over the top. We want to use the demo to give our players something fun to spend their time on! If that makes it a confusingly long demo, that's alright.

The next demo update will happen Fall 2025! And that's because it will include all of this:

-The Step 1 Moment "Fancy Fun" (already in the beta)

-The rest of the Step 2 prologue (it's the length of two Moments, not yet in beta)

-The Step 2 Moment "Assistance" (not yet in beta)

That is four times larger than a typical demo update and a ridiculous 110,000 words of new content. Also, this is in addition to what's already there, so in total we'll have a demo with two full prologues and four entire Moments.

So, what does that mean for the beta testing build? All that upcoming content will be released in the beta first before it becomes public later this year. And even after the major demo update, the beta will still have more than twice as much content as the free demo (several more Step 1 Moments and the ending of Step 1) and the beta will continue getting more Step 2 Moments while the demo does not. It's still very much worth the while!

We're hard at work getting more and more programming/writing done each month. Step 1 is so close to being finished, but it'll take a while to make major progress into making Step 2 more playable. I'm looking forward to when we can share a a bigger picture of the OL2 experience with everybody 😄

#gb patch #gb patch games #our life #visual novel #dating sim #our life: now & forever #interactive fiction

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kdinjenzen · 2 years ago

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Hi Tumblr!

Local queer trans girl werewolf VTuber weirdo here letting your know that I am approaching nearly 12 Months of being unemployed.

Over the last 12 months I have:

Submitted 3,000+ applications/resumes.

Had 100+ interviews.

Got 1 job that I was constantly misgendered at, and upon informing HR, was then cyber-stalked by my bosses.

Got 1 freelance opportunity who, after two weeks, realized they had hired too many people and then let everyone go who was hired - me included.

Ran out of unemployment, drained my savings, maxed out my credit, and fully lost my insurance.

Unfortunately, even if I got a job RIGHT NOW, I would be unable to pay rent and bills for the foreseeable future.

I am constantly applying for jobs and trying to keep everything above water, but at this point I've become desperate for help.

If you have the ability to donate or contribute, you can use any of these below:

P@yPal: Paypal.me/kdinj Ca$hApp: $KdinJ Kofi: ko-fi.com/kdinjenzen

Additionally, if you have any leads on possible jobs you can feel free to message me as I'm actively applying to everything I can right now.

#signalboost #signal boost #community outreach #kdin #kdinjenzen #kdin jenzen

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plutoslastwords · 5 months ago

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lost and found!

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: baby norris goes missing in a crowded paddock, her father? not happy.

warnings: none!

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: first post here.. eek! i hope you guys like my little character of baby norris, i'm hoping to write more for her, so if you have any requests, please send them in!!

~~~

A Formula 1 paddock was a busy place. Mechanics were working hard to get the cars in tip-top shape for the day, reporters were rushing around to the latest ‘big story’ with dozens of cameras following and fans were scrambling around to get a glimpse of their idols. All in all, the paddock was chaotic for even the most oriented of us.

The paddock was not the place for a three year old.

However, in the Melbourne paddock, tiny baby Norris was giggling like mad, toddling around the zoo of the paddock, elated to be back at daddy’s work after a long, boring winter break.

Though he hates to admit it, Lando had not planned your appearance in his life. You were the result of a drunken one night stand, and nine months later you appeared to him after your mother signed away any parental rights. Despite that, you were the light of his life, he couldn’t imagine a world without his gorgeous baby daughter who managed to bring so much joy into any situation, you were his everything.

Unfortunately, at present he was preoccupied with some media duties before the upcoming free practice session, so the responsibility of you had been placed on some Mclaren assistant, Henry, who had looked away for a second too long and the little girl had been lost in the crowd. The assistant was shitting himself, how had he managed to screw up this bad, it was his first day on the job and he had already lost the boss’ kid!! He was so gonna be fired.

Therefore, he felt it wise to not mention to Lando that his three year old was currently waddling around the crazy busy paddock, filled with heavy machinery and people 5 times her size. Instead, Henry grabbed some other intern and began frantically searching.

It was not an easy task, looking for a pocket sized three year old in a rampacked motorsports paddock. Henry and intern no.2 checked the obvious places first: Lando’s drivers room? No. Oscar’s side of the garage? No. The Williams garage? (You were very fond of Carlos) No.

You were nowhere, somehow Lando Norris’ three year old daughter had been gifted the power of invisibility and disappeared off of the face of the Earth. Henry was stressing. To make matters worse, he then got a text he had been dreading.

Lando Norris

hey man, just finished the interview, thank you for watching the baby, you think you could drop her back to me?

Henry cursed aloud, kissing goodbye to his job as he knew that he’d have to show up to Lando empty handed. Him and the other intern he’d coerced into coming trudged slowly back to the Mclaren garage, preparing to face the wrath of a very angry dad.

As soon as Lando saw Henry enter, his face lit up, finally getting to see his precious girl after a few grueling hours of media commitments. However, his smile dropped immediately when he saw Henry’s guilty look, and the lack of a toddler in his tow. He marched forward.

“Where the fuck is she?” He demanded, no kindness in his voice.

“I- uhm- she- I’m sorry! She’s so small, and so quick! And one minute she was right next to me and the next she was gone!” Henry cried, accepting that this was the last time he’d be working in an F1 paddock.

“You lost my daughter?!?” Lando seethed, completely outraged, his darling girl was missing! “You had one job and you lost my daughter?? How immensely careless can one person be!” He shouted, the only thing holding him back from suckerpunching Henry being the fact that he was the last person to see you, and therefore would be most helpful in finding you.

The commotion, however, alerted the attention of some other people including Zak Brown, Mclaren’s CEO, who was making his rounds of the garage, greeting some high profile guests. He walked over, patting Lando on the shoulder in a very Zak-Brown-manner.

“Ah, Lando! Been looking for you! What’s going on here?”

“The dickhead lost my kid!” Lando exclaimed, more than furiously, whilst Harry just stood there silently, having gone deathly pale. Zak’s normally upbeat mood dropped, seeing the distress his driver was in, he couldn’t be having this! Free practice was only a couple hours away!

“Oh goodness, that’s not… optimal… Have you searched for her at all, boy?” he questioned Henry, who nodded and let out a noise that could’ve been interpreted as a whimper of fear.

“W-we went to look for her, we searched everywhere! B-but she wasn’t there…” he stammered, this was just great now both of his bosses were here to fire him. Not even his bosses! They were like his boss’ boss’ boss’ bosses!

“Of course you couldn’t find her! She’s like 2 feet tall, no one would be able to find her in a crowd like that!” Lando scoffed, he didn’t want to let his worry show in front of the whole garage, so instead his emotions were being projected as anger towards a very scared looking Henry.

“Well, why don’t we all calm down..” Zak intervened, he did not need one of his drivers having a meltdown at T-Minus 2 hours before the first free practice session of the season. “I’m sure she’ll turn up, the kid can barely go 30 minutes without her daddy, she’ll be running back soon enough.”

“Oh god, she’s probably so scared…” moaned Lando, Zak’s words doing nothing to soothe him, only heightening the growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.

Noticing Lando’s growing anguish, Zak knew he had to act, quickly sending orders to whoever was in shouting distance to go and search the paddock from the bottom up, and not to return until they had a little curly haired girl in their grasp.

As well as this, he told Henry to go somewhere else and help the search party, he did not think it smart to have Henry and Lando in close proximity, worried about the British driver’s anger getting the best of him. He did not need a fight breaking out only 2 hours before FP1

The next 45 minutes were possibly the worst of Lando’s life, Sochi 2021 was nothing compared to this. His precious, angel, darling girl was missing and there was nothing he could do about as Zak had forbidden him from leaving the garage, claiming he’d draw too much attention if he went out to join the search. What, like 50 Mclaren staff all searching the paddock wasn’t going to draw enough attention itself?

He sat in his driver's room with his face in his hands, distraught at the idea that his baby girl might be hurt, or worse… He couldn’t let himself think about it, his trainer, Jon, was in the room as well trying to soothe his nerves, but nothing was working, all he wanted was his little girl back in his arms.

Suddenly, the door to his driver’s room swung open, revealing Henry, looking extremely tired out, holding a tiny girl who was looking way too proud of herself.

“Daddy!!” You screeched, grinning widely, thrashing around in Henry’s arms to get to him.

“Oh my baby..” About 50 tonnes of weight lifted from Lando’s shoulders as he rushed over to take you from Henry. “My baby, my baby, my baby..” He chanted, rocking you in his arms, holding you close to his chest, never wanting to let go. “You gave daddy such a fright, angel!” He reprimanded, but there was no malice to his tone whatsoever, he was just glad his baby was back. “Where did you run off to, hm?”

“Lollipop, daddy!” You squealed, and then it clicked for Lando, of course that’s where she went. When the two of you arrived in the paddock this morning there was a man selling large lollipops, almost the size of you, near the entrance. You had immediately been struck by this, begging your daddy to pretty please! buy one for you, but Lando had media duties he had to get to, but promised to get one later (he could never say no to you), but of course that wasn’t acceptable to your little head, so you’d had to run away to go get one.

Surprisingly, you had managed to get her hands on one, though Lando wasn’t sure how, it wasn’t like you had your own money. It was probably because you were just too cute to resist, with your beaming smile, little curly hair and green eyes just like him, you could woo just about anybody. Even the ever serious Oscar Piastri manages to crack some grins whenever you’re around.

“You can’t be running away though my angel… what if you got hurt, hm? And daddy wasn’t there to kiss it better. That was very naughty of you baby.” He tried to be strict with you, he really did, but one look at your little pouting face was enough to make him melt all over again.

“‘M sorry daddy…” You mumbled, you didn’t like it when your daddy tells you off, your daddy never tells you off! “Just wan’ed lollipop…”

“Oh baby, I know… don’t worry, Daddy isn’t angry anymore, he was just scared, okay? And you gotta promise you’re never gonna do that again, otherwise no more lollipops..”

“I pwomise daddy!!” you were fully capable of speaking normally, but even at age 3, you knew exactly the type of voice to use to get your daddy to forgive you.

“Good girl, angel..” he cooed, still rocking you in his arms. His moment with his daughter was broken, however, when he realised that Henry was still in the room, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“You found her?” He questions Henry, his tone slightly guarded.

“Y-yeah, she was by the entrance.. Didn’t seem very fazed about the chaos she caused…” Henry tries to joke, to lighten the tension, but Lando’s expression was unreadable.

After a moment, Lando spoke up. “I’m not going to fire you.” an audible sigh of relief could be heard coming from Henry. “But you’re never looking after her again, you hear me?” Henry just nods quickly, too thankful that he hasn’t lost his job to care. “Good. you can go now.” The intern scrambles out the room.

“Daddy loves you so much, darling. Always remember that, okay? So so much..” He whispers to the small girl in his arms, who was now starting to doze off, after the excitement of the lollipop saga.

He just smiled, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head, before he laid you down on the sofa in his driver’s room, covering you with a blanket so you could sleep peacefully.

~~~

a/n: hope you enjoyed, send in any requests you have!

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris daughter #f1 daughter #formula 1

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