#😚

[green-lights-33]

[womansfilm]

Isabella Rossellini for Vogue Italia October 2023, ph. Zhong Lin "The cover of this issue is her thirty-eighth for Vogue – In the first one she was 27 years old, now she is 71."

[fungerisms]

omg hello ouhggg ur art style is swaggers

can we get a marina? =:]]]

VERY SLOWLY BUT SURELY GETTING TO MORE REQS😭 thank u everyone for the nice messages and so many asks aaa!! im still gonna do a lot of them but im gonna take my time w them 😪

ANYWAYS THANK U SM I LOVE HER!! MARINA!!❣️❣️

[russellius]

📍 jeddah | via

[satursticket]

That one part of Dum Dum, different outfits, different angles, same level of cvnt~ 🫶

© gifs are mine~ 「celebritism yt」

[non-stop-imagines]

Ok I'm not the nonnie that just asked that question, but I can 100% imagine Lance and Oscar being in a poly. And it's perfect cause they never cross paths it seems like. So a SMAU where the reader (Marsai Martin) comes to the paddock for a visit and everyone is just like wtf?! How did yall pull her?!

You have no idea how crazyy brain went when I got this. And then I almost immediately began working on it...and then I was unable to edit ask responses on my phone for almost a month and a half 😔. Also I absolutely did not mean to do this but my brain read it "Lando and Oscar" and I completely missed that it said "Lance and Oscar" and now I feel terrible but I hope you like it still! 😬😚

(A/n: Also I know I said Charles was next, but I was so excited I could finally edit this post I had to go and finish it. I have been working on my Charles fic though I promise 💖)

~~~~~♥~~~~~~

user_yn

Liked by landonorris and 492,807 others

user_yn Thank you Japan for giving my loves a double podium (and the epic celebration after) 🧡🇯🇵

View all 273 comments

user1 They are so wholesome it gave me clear skin

landonorris So happy our pretty girl got to see us (almost) win 😚

>user_yn And I'm very proud of your (almost) win ☺️

>oscarpiastri It was your beauty radiating from the garage that helped us stay in the top 3

liked by user_yn

>mclaren We agree 👍

user2 Exhibit B of how Yn is their good luck charm

>user3 Yes, but elaborate 🧐

>user2 The last race she was at was Silverstone, when they basically told the rest of the grid "Sike, here's our real car" and now double podium

>landonorris We've been trying to tell @/user_yn, right @/oscarpiastri?

>oscarpiastri If she listened to us, forgot about acting and just came to all the races, we'd be World Champions by now🤷‍♂️

>user_yn Os, baby, don't let Lando drag you down with him

landonorris

Liked by Oscar Piastri

landonorris Had to get that double podium for our lovely lady 😍 🏆(Also Note to Self: Never leave your phone alone with @/user_yn)

View 259 comments

user_yn The real note to self should be "post better pictures of Yn instead of whatever photo you have of her sleeping"

>landonorris But you're so pretty when you sleep 👉🏻👈🏻😚

>user_yn As sweet as that is, don't 🫵🏿

user8 Still accepting theories of how those two even met Yn

>user9 The configuration of the stars the night they met was the same as when the upgrades for Silverstone were finished. That was the most luck those two have every experienced int their lives and they will probably not have such luck again until it is time for their own respective grand prix race wins

>user8 Yes.

oscarpiastri Baby 🧡

>landonorris Couldn't be more proud of you 🧡

>user_yn And I'm the proudest of both of you 🧡

>user4 These 3 deserve each other and I mean that in the purest way possible

>mclaren we just want to join on the orange hearts (even though we love them too)🧡

user5 We stan Bert, Ernie, and their impossibly hot girlfriend

>landonorris Please tell me I'm Ernie 🤞🏻

>user5 Man do I have a treat for you

oscarpiastri

Liked by logansargeant and 193,703 others

oscarpiastri Had to place 2 and 3 because she's our #1 😊

View all 178 comments

user6 Logan's here, we can finally start the festivities

logansargeant @/user_yn is the really Japanese gp winner

>user_yn No don't talk to me you ignored me most of the weekend 😔

>logansargeant I JUST COULDN'T SEE YOU YOU'RE SHORT

>user_yn All I'm hearing are excuses 🙄

user_yn Such a cutie 🥰 So so proud of my boyfriends 💖

>user_yn (I swear if you don't smile with your teeth more often I'm telling your mom.)

>oscarpiastri Yes ma'am (Love you, don't tell my mom ♥️)

>landonorris THANK YOU I've been trying to tell him he has a pretty smile

user7 Yn, the fashion icon ✨

>user_yn It's the hat 🤠

One last thought: Hopefully this is the start of a spark of inspiration because I would love for the ideas I have for all of these requests to LEAVE MY HEAD AND WRITE THEMSELVES OUT ON THESE POSTS!! Anyway, I hope you all liked this and you're all doing well. 😊

[r4pira]

[leascno]

“stay warm out there, apollo.”

[quiet-rage-place]

I'M ABSOLUTELY ASSURE, CARTMAN WOULD BE A FAT FAT PUG ON THIS AU

I'm sooooo wondered by your au, @0harpies, waiting for continue 😊

[whimhaven]

happy mother's day to all the mothers who sim! proud of you for balancing motherhood and your hobbies 🫶🏾🤍

[movielosophy]

Different Princess | 🫶🏼

[n0cturna1-m3]

When Things Go Wrong | John "Soap" MacTavish x Male Reader | Angst

Fem/Minors DNI

Warnings; Graphic descriptions of injury (Choking, effect of being inside a fire, violence in general), explosions, angst, hurt/no comfort, crying

Request;Maybe some Angst Soap x soldier! Male reader, the reader was a soldier, but he got into accident that causes his memory to loss, the reader can't help but feel guilty for them bcs he can't remember anything. Oh and maybe soap trying to get the reader's memory back, but it's to no avail?

A/N; I hope this is alright for now! There WILL be a part 2... thought there are no guarantees that it will have a happy end 🫶

2.8k words

Gaz followed Y/N closely as they explored the small empty town, rain pelting their backs. The sun had set hours earlier, but the old-fashioned street lights that lined the stone-paved road dimly lit it, casting shadows that seemed to follow the duo. Soap and Ghost were searching through the other half of it.

It was a charming city, mixing the properties of Haussmann architecture and the classic streets of Moscow on a much smaller scale. It was stunning, but it was quiet and eerie. Some lights were on in the houses, and a few doors were ajar, winding alleys connecting everything while maintaining its aesthetic appeal.

“We take a left up here,” Y/N told Gaz. “I think…”

“What do you mean ‘you think?’” Gaz looked back at Y/N over his shoulder.

“This place is confusing, and Soap’s directions come straight out of his arse.” Gaz snickered and took a left, scanning the corridor with his gun.

“Clear,” He said as he walked into the alley. They walked slowly, cautious as to what awaited them. It was too quiet, and it unsettled them both to no end. Gaz reared a corner and stopped, putting his hand up to signal for Y/N to stop. He froze in place, much too anxious from the lack of any form of life. Gaz waved Y/N forward, the latter creeping up and following his gaze to see a light coming through drawn curtains with a silhouette of a man smoking a cigar.

“Who the hell is that?” Y/N whispered, stepping forward to take the lead.

“Russian?” Gaz questioned following Y/N with his gun raised.

“Wow, brilliant observation, Gaz. I wish I had thought of that,” Y/N declared sarcastically. Gaz scoffed and watched Y/N open an unlocked door at the back of one of the buildings. “This doesn’t feel right,” He muttered, stepping inside despite his wariness.

The back entrance leads straight into the living room with a dining room attached, separated by a curved door frame. A large, dark red sofa in the middle of the lounge with a matching loveseat next to it and a lit fireplace in the corner, the golden glow is the only light source in the living room. A stack of firewood was next to it, as well as a fire poker. The large carpet matched the couches, and all of the furniture was a dark wood colour. It looked like something out of a movie.

Y/N and Gaz walked around the room, examining some of the photos and opening drawers. Y/N proceeded to the hallway, opening a door under the stairs that revealed a half-bathroom. Gaz walked past him into the kitchen, looking around while Y/N walked back to the bottom of the stairs.

“All clear,” Gaz told Y/N, walking over to him.

“Let’s go,” He said, glancing at Gaz before ascending the carpeted steps quietly.

Gaz followed Y/N up the stairs, his gun ready and raised. The words Y/N had said earlier rang in his ears. ‘This doesn’t feel right.’ Y/N turned the corner of the stairs and checked the first room. It was a master bedroom, but nothing was messy, not a crease in the duvet or a pillow out of place. It looked like it had never been touched. Y/N continued through the hallway, quickly checking the bathroom and finding nothing. The last room was cracked open, golden light streaming through the slit.

“Final door…” He muttered. Gaz grunted, following Y/N as he pushed the door open slowly. The man was still sitting there, smoking a cigar with a glass of bourbon next to him and the bottle sitting beside it. Y/N waved Gaz off, signalling for him to stay in the hall while he walked inside warily, his gun pointed defensively at the man.

“State who you are,” Y/N said. The man glanced at him and took a puff of his cigar. The room was a large study. There was a large desk in the middle of the room that faced the door, the same wood as what was used in the living, dining and bedroom. One wall was a gigantic built-in bookshelf, full of books and occasional trinkets. The carpet on the floor matched the one downstairs, and the large armchair that the mysterious man was sitting in was large and red, something out of a Sherlock Holmes book.

“You do not need to know my name,” He said in a vaguely Russian accent, crossing one leg over the other. He looked out the window and took another drag from his cigar, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling. “It’s unimportant.”

Y/N stared at him and took another step inside. He thought it was strange that he didn’t fear the gun in his hands. If he were a civilian, he would have called the police by now.

“You must know what we’re here for if you’re the only person here,” Y/N stated. The man tapped his cigar on the ashtray, resting it there and picking up his liquor, taking a sip.

“You’re correct. I do know what you need.” He placed the glass on the table. He folded his hands in his lap and met Y/N’s gaze. Y/N almost cowered under his piercing blue eyes. “I don’t care for it. You can take it, it’s on the desk.” Y/N stared at the documents on the desk, all stacked up.

“Go outside and wait for me,” Y/N told Gaz without turning around. Gaz did as told, going down the stairs quickly and leaving through the front door, waiting outside. He didn’t question Y/N, but he probably should have. Y/N hesitantly walked forward and lowered his gun, grabbing the documents and holding them under his arm. “What are you getting from this?”

“Nothing really.” He reached for his cigar again and took a long puff. “Just business,” He said, snuffing out the cogar on the ashtray. A click met Y/N’s ears, his eyes widening at the sound. There was no time for him to think, or to run. He just stood there, frozen in place as the wall of books exploded.

The blast threw him into the wall, the wind being kncoked out of him and his head cracking against the brick. Somehow he was conscious, ears ringing painfully and moaning as he tried to stand. He could feel a migraine bleeding in through the depths of his skull, starting from where it made contact with the brick. The wall was blown open showing the outside, and the man, whose chair sat next to the bookshelf, was no longer in one piece. Y/N held himself up by the wall with the window. The wall was currently crumbling from the explosion and fire. He put his weight on it, the wall caving in and breaking under him. He fell onto his stomach and grunted, heaving for air as the aftermath started a fire.

He could hear his comms crackling with voices, panic-filled ones at that. His head was throbbing and he could feel blood streaming down his face. Every part of him hurt.

Gaz struggled to get to Y/N through the debris but made it to him, reporting back to Soap and Ghost when he found him. He slung Y/N’s arm over his shoulder and lifted him, dragging the large man with him. Y/N walked as best as he could beside Gaz, gurgling up blood and sending himself into a coughing fit. Gaz managed to get them both outside, Y/N collapsing onto the pavement as he coughed. He was choking on the blood inside his lungs, and it was only making it worse.

Gaz crouched next to him rubbing his back as he clawed at the road, tearing his fingers open.

“I can’t- I can’t breathe-” He wailed, stopping himself as bile rose in his throat. He cupped his lower face, eyes blown wide. He gripped his chest with his other hand in hopes to suppress the vomit creeping that was up on him. He failed miserably, sprawling his hands out on the ground as he spat up blood. He rested his forehead on the ground and took shallow, wheezing breaths as blood loss started to settle in.

Gaz yelled out to Soap and Ghost as they finally arrived, muffled voices reaching Y/N’a ears but not being registered in his brain. He was pulled into someone's chest, a gravely moned escaping him when they cupped the wound on his head.

“Gonna die,” He grunted, starting to cough again. Tears streamed down his face as his hands grabbed at his own throat and chest. Soap grabbed his face, closing his mouth and forcing him to breathe through his nose.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered to the man in his arms. He grabbed at Soap’s hand, eyes blown wide as he struggled to breathe. “Breathe through your nose, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” He said, voice cracking at the end. Ghost and Gaz were busy instructing the heli that was on its way, waiting for the emergency medic. Y/N’s coughing ceased and he was wheezing through his nose. Soap let go of his mouth, hand covered in blood and saliva, and pulled his head to rest on his shoulder.

Y/N heard the helicopter landing but lost consciousness before he could see who got off to get him.

—

The pounding in Y/N’s head is what woke him up. He felt like he had been run over by a train. Groaning, he raised his hand to press his palm against the back of his head and moaned in pain. His body was sore and aching, and he desperately wanted to crawl out of his body to escape the feeling. He finally took note of the IV drip in his forearm and the nasal cannula that was being fed oxygen concentrate, as well as the hand that was gripping his tightly.

Y/N’s head began spinning as he stared at the brunette beside his hospital bed, his head resting on his forehead, hand clasping Y/N’s as if he would disappear.

His mind was whirring a mile a minute, confused as to what was happening and who this person was. Y/N didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t know this man. He carefully pulled his hand from the stranger's grasp and moved it to rest on his stomach.

That seemed to have woken the man up, his head drowsily lifting and looking at Y/N with tired eyes. It took him a moment to fully comprehend that Y/N was awake, his eyes widening at the realisation.

“You’re awake,” He whispered, standing up from his chair in favour of leaning in to hug Y/N, wrapping his arms around him tenderly and burying his face in Y/N’s shoulder. “Fuck, I’m so glad you’re awake. You’ve been out for days.” Y/N froze, his arms tensing. The man pulled back, his eyes wet with tears. The expression that Y/N wore was not something he expected. He didn’t look happy. He looked confused. Like John was a stranger. Like they had never met before.

Like they weren't married.

“Uh…” Y/N looked away from the brunette's blue eyes, taking great interest in the wall behind him. “I don’t… know… who you are.” He said, meeting the other man's gaze again. He looked at Y/N as if he had just told him that his puppy died, and it made him feel a bit guilty. But he really didn’t know who this strange man was, let alone what his own name was.

John pulled away from him.

“You don’t- remember me? At all?” He choked out, watching Y/N shake his head slightly, a wary look on his face. Johnny’s breath caught in his throat and gave him a curt nod and turned around, walking to the door and opening it. “Oh. Well, uhm… I’ll get a nurse for you,” Johnny said, voice cracking slightly, as he stepped outside the room, closing the door behind him and leaning back on it, slowly sliding down until he was sitting on the floor.

John brought his hands up to his face and covered his eyes as he began to sob. His shoulders shook as he cried, covering his face to hide what little dignity he had leftover after his husband uttered words he had never in all his years expected to hear from him.

He felt like he was going to throw up. There was a hole in his chest and a lump in his throat as he silently wailed. Bile rose into his mouth, resting on his tongue with a sickly taste. How could he come back from this?

What could he possibly do to fix this?

Nothing came to mind. His thoughts were flooded with memories, and fear that he would never experience any of it with his lover again.

“Excuse me,” A nurse asked, walking in front of John with a worried face. He didn't look at her, silently crying into his palms as he tried to wrap his brain around what he’d been told. “Has something happened to the patient?”

John glanced at her and grumbled, unsure of what to say. “He doesn’t, ahm…” He stuttered, wiping his flushed face before resting his hands on his knees. “He said he doesn’t remember me,” He choked. The nurse’s eyes widened and pity covered her face.

“I’m terribly sorry,” She murmured, folding his hands in front of her and fiddling with a ring on her index finger. “I’ll fetch a doctor for Mr. L/N. There's a bathroom down the hall if you need a moment.” She turned and hurried away from him, desperate to find a doctor as quickly as possible. They would ultimately bring in a Psychiatrist to evaluate Y/N’s mental state and the effect his injuries had caused him.

John stood after she left, walking to the single bathroom and locking it behind him. He was faced with a mirror, one that showed his state of disarray. He turned on the tap and ran his hands under the ice cold water, splashing some on his face to lessen the flushed skin. His eyes burned, bloodshot from his palms digging into the sockets. He took a few shaky breaths and ran his fingers through his hair.

He dried his hands on his shirt and hesitantly opened the bathroom door, stepping out to see a doctor and the nurse he previously met speaking outside Y/N’s room. The nurse spotted him and waved him over.

“We have a great Psychiatrist evaluating him currently. I’m sure that everything will turn out okay. Worst case scenario, he has amnesia for a few weeks. It’s extremely uncommon for amnesia to be permanent, so you shouldn’t worry about it too much,” The doctor explained, glancing back at the door every once in a while. She had a slight air of worry around her, one that John didn’t pick up on at the moment. “It would be best for you to go home for now. We’ll call you with news, hopefully good.”

Looking down, John muttered a ‘thanks’ and walked away, glancing back at the room briefly before continuing to the main lobby. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see Gaz at the front desk asking about Y/N’s condition. He had continuously been checking in, as often as he could. He blamed himself for Y/N’s injuries, though he knew it wasn’t his fault. He was following orders, a request from a friend.

“Gaz,” John said, his body stance reserved. Gaz turned around and frowned at his friend’s appearance.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, walking towards him nervously. “Is it Y/N? Is he okay?”

John felt tears prick his eyes again and he sniffled, blinking them away quickly. “He’s… He’s fine. He just doesn’t,” He paused, looking for the right words to speak out loud. None of them seemed right to describe the situation at hand. “Remember me. He doesn’t remember me,” John finished, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and finding great interest in a plant behind Gaz.

“...What?” He questioned in disbelief. He wanted more than anything to believe that John was kidding with him, a joke in poor taste, but the distant look in his blue eyes that screamed ‘I’m lost, what do I do?’ shoved the hard truth down his throat. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” He whispered, wrapping his arms around John’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He gratefully accepted it, tears beginning to fall from his eyes once again.

“It’s not your fault,” John mumbled, screwing his eyes shut tight in a futile attempt to stop the flow of tears. He pulled away and wiped his face with the collar of his shirt, looking at the door that led outside. “Give me a lift home, will ya?” He said, a wry smile covering his face. Gaz simply nodded and walked with him to his car. He didn’t have to ask questions now. No, not in public. Not when the wound is fresh and deep. Not after it has been stuffed with salt and lime and alcohol. Not when his love was shattered after fearing its death.

Another day. Maybe tomorrow.

[harryisart]

LOVE ON TOUR | Manchester- 6/16

[russellius]

via

[callsignfangs]

I know you have something to say about Farah.

Do it.

You know you want to. 😊😉

You lot know me so well 💔💔

Giggles but actually, I’m sorry for randomly vanishing, long story short ive been dealing w some personal stuff and been hesitant to start posting again bc it might be a bit on n off lol. But most things have chilled out a little bit, so i might dip my head back into writing 😇

Also, bc of my amazing luck, I literally got sick, like, today. Sooo, have my fever-induced Farah rambles 😻 Brought to you by. Idk probably the flu or something 💪

Note: the fact i managed to dump this all out in one session before napping is a lil funny ngl 😇

Double note: I acc had a different plan for this, but the sickness has unfortunately taken me, and I’m just going with the flow atp 😇 prepare for more of my Farah braindumps after i’m mildly more alive 😚

-

Farah & Sick!reader drabble 😚

(Tws: vague sickness, fever 👍)

Lets start this off with the simple fact that- she’s the queen of home remedies. You could pick up some degenerative alien disease from a far off solar system, and she probably has something for it. Mot to mention that she’s pretty good at making said remedies notably more appealing, which definitely doesn’t hurt. Sure, she won’t shy away from medicating you, more than prepared to deal with your slightly high shenanigans, but it’s definitely nice to not be drugged up instantly.

She’s also absolutely attached to you at the hip. It’s like she’s given herself the job of your personal nurse, or something. Of course, she’s doing what’s best for you, but she folds just a little at the sight of your soft, weepy eyes.

Admittedly, she’s not the best cook on the planet. She has more important responsibilities than learning to cook. However, for you? She digs up every family recipe she could find, probably digging up an old scrapbook or two of her grandparent’s meanwhile. She’s determined to shower you in gourmet-level food as much as humanly possible, even if that means constantly ducking out of the kitchen to check on you, cuddled up on the couch.

Speaking of cuddles, she’s an absolute cuddle monster. The second you’ll let her, she’s buried alongside you, her gentle warmth dissolving into tour achy muscles, your pounding head showered in soft little kisses - even a couple on the lips, if she can sneak them, because, no, love, she doesn’t care about getting sick, she’ll live.

And, of course, she’ll insist on a nice bath with you, seeing as she just wants to see you better, sweetheart. Her getting to snuggle up with you in the tub is definitely just a happy coincidence.

Bathing with Farah is absolutely heavenly. She fills up the tub herself, happily murmuring pleasant little anecdotes and warm comforts into your ears as lukewarm water splashes around behind you. Gently helping you out of your pyjamas (well, her pyjamas, that were practically yours at this point), she dips her foot into the water, feeling the coolish liquid cover her feet. She slowly eases you in, a slight guilt pooling in her heart as you whine about just how cold the water felt. She keeps you buried in her arms throughout, kissing your cheeks and praising you sweetly, even letting you tuck your face against her shoulder.

Once you’re actually in, the bath is a near-perfect affair. Farah keeps you against her chest the entire time, happily kneading at your pained muscles, letting the water wash away the sweat staining your skin. She guides you down softly, supporting your neck with a gentle, rough hand as she dips your hair into the water, letting it wash away the tightness behind your eyes as best it could, easily tasking herself with washing your hair. It’s like she turns into your personal masseuse, looping a leg around your hips to keep you safely tucked against her, stroking delicately through the soft strands of your hair, loving hands brushing against their perfect spot on your scalp, leaving your muscles at a similar consistency to the water you were surrounded by.

She takes to washing your hair easily, lathering each product in her hands and warmly rubbing them in, pressing kisses to your cheeks and forehead between each one (her face occasionally scrunches as the misplaced product stains her mouth, but it’s worth it to see the little contented smile against your lips).

Thankfully, she doesn’t shy away from care elsewhere, either. She easily lathers each skincare product against your prone form, adjusting you gently against her arms to completely cover every inch of your sweet, delicate skin. Of course, each touch is punctuated with a little massage, hoping to soothe each and every inch of your sickly form, along with her fair share of kisses.

Unsurprisingly, getting out of the tub felt like hell. Sure, the water was mildly cold, but you’d adjusted to it, at this point, lazing easily against Farah’s warmth like a cat in the sun. You definitely felt like a wet cat as she eased you up, shivers immediately picking up the second your skin was exposed to the icy-seeming air. A snug, fluffy towel was wrapped around you almost immediately, with Farah swiftly reaching out to crank the heating up - just enough to keep the temperature difference from making your sickness worse.

Farah was quick to herd you into the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed and exchanging the, now damp, towel for a cosy robe she’d bought a while ago, surprisingly still unused.

And, before you could even consider protesting, she was crouched between your legs, gently towelling down the damp skin. She slowly made her way up, from your feet all the way up to your hair, occasionally popping to and from the bathroom, finishing off your skin and hair care.

By the time she’d finished, you were cuddled up in another - notably lighter - pair of her pyjamas, buried safely on her side of the bed, her honeyed scent filling your senses. Your head was pillowed against her chest, eyes trained vaguely before you as she flicked through her movie catalogue, looking for something peaceful yet entertaining.

Eventually, after her careful deliberation, she decides on some lighthearted romcom. It doesn’t particularly matter at this point, though, seeing as you’d conked out before the opening credits had even begun, your soft, purring snores filling the room and bringing a loving smile to her face. Looking after you so delicately had been amazing, but she was absolutely relieved you were finally getting the sleep your body so desperately needed.

Sighing happily, she lays the two of you down, snuggling beneath the covers and kissing you goodnight, easily falling into slumber in her favourite place - cuddled up beside you.