#MAN ...................... took me a while to answer sorry

[raytorosaurus]

hi Raytorosaurus, in the beginning of your post you said Ray has done interviews, podcasts, and blogged in recent years, can you please link me to those things? I would be extremely and eternally grateful <3

yes ofc!! this one by tom bryant (author of not the life it seems) is my favourite! and not just because ray talks about how much he loves being a stay at home dad doing chores while his wife gets her master's degree. it's just sweet, and goes a little more in depth into remember the laughter's concept than some of these other interviews.

this one isn't remember the laughter related, but tom bryant also did this interview with him the year before, after he released for the lost and brave dedicated to leelah alcorn (cw non-graphic discussion of suicide). it's really fucking sweet. ray talks a lot about his family and about fatherhood and about how he wants to raise his kids to be as kind and socially conscious as possible in pretty much all of the interviews i've linked here, but i really fucking love this thing he says in this one in particular:

"If ever my son was having a rough time I would just hope that he would trust me and allow me to be there for him. It’s common for parents and older people to look at youth in a negative way and to not respect the young as people. My wife always says that a lot of parents treat their kids like property – the whole, ‘this is my house, these are my rules and you must abide by my law’. You have to put yourself on the same level as your kid, you have to relate to them as a person. I hope that there’s more understanding about the differences between people in the future that my son grows up in.”

at the risk of sounding like a broken record, this one is also really fucking sweet. again he talks about the values he wants to impart on his kids, and how his son is featured in the lucky ones playing his child's percussion set :'''')

this one is a bit longer and just rly cute lol like just fun vibes

there's a couple of shorter ones here and here that are also worth a read. there's also this review that i like - it's not 100% positive but the writer does make a point of saying he's shocked the album didn't get much attention despite ray having been in mcr. yeah me too dude :(

this is a podcast he appeared on - he did at least one or two others but i think sadly they've been lost to time :(((((( but god this one is so sweet he's just sooooo. so <3. ray also says the band broke up a few weeks after his son was born in september 2012 which is interesting lol.

sadly a bunch of his blog stuff has been lost to time because the wayback machine has done a spotty job of archiving it but you can try to explore around the archived pages a bit. if you click around to different dates or subpages you can see some of his photography (tho sadly a lot of it hasn't been saved :((( ) and a few blog posts. you might even come across his shitty vent poetry lol <3333

and then i love this interview sooooo much too like this writer really gets it. ray talks about how he got obsessed with this free climber after watching a mountaineering documentary which inspired the great beyond, so the great beyond actually features a fucking chalk bag as a percussion instrument because he's insane and i love him. it also has the line "enthusiasm leaking from him like a punctured capri-sun" LOL. and then it wraps up with this statement that i really love:

Mixed, engineered and almost entirely performed by Toro, ‘Remember The Laughter’ is very much this man’s pride and joy. Every nuance of the record is explained with intricate detail and the subject matter held within comes straight from his heart. Whether you like it or not remains to be seen, as its influences are often drawn from well outside the My Chemical Romance sphere. Whether you listen to it or not, though, really comes down to this: do you want to hear some honest music?

because honestly that's the one common thread through all of mcr's discography and every single one of their solo projects. they are all 100% earnest. they all access that honesty in different ways and ray's definitely not a super accomplished lyricist so some of the lines on rtl verge on corny or schmaltzy sometimes but they never, ever sound fake or inauthentic. he wrote the album imagining he was speaking the lyrics to his son to instill a sense of hope in him about the world so he'd grow up with the belief that he was capable of making it a better place and he fucking means every word of it bro. he's ray toro :( i like him :((((

[somegothamtransplantkid]

Opinion on the vigilantes?

Batman is okay ig. I don't have a strong opinion on him overall

Nightwing seems cool from the little interaction I've had with him. He's less intimidating than the rest of them anyway

I don't know much about Red Robin or Red Hood so far. Mostly just basic stuff about them

I've never met her but Spoiler is my fav by far. She's also purple which gives her extra points

Robin is short and is extremely funny to make fun of. Hope he doesn't get squished by a villain bc that would be really sad 😔

[helsex]

Also aroace, I agree that the romance part of sdv is shallow, but cute. And you're absolutely right, Harvey is pathetic guy core and that was one of the reasons I chose him! If I wouldn't have chosen Harvey, I definitely would have chosen Sebastian. One of the main reasons I didn't though, is because one of my irls is the actual real life version of him and I didn't want it to be awkward.

To be fair though, I also see my sdv character as an oc and not a self insert. Have you ever messed around in the sdv portrait maker thingy? For me, it really made me see my character as an oc.

That's funny because my partner absolutely hates Sebastian because they had an irl who was like him/liked his character lol, def fair though ❤️

I didn't really initially but once I unlocked the wizard tower thing I did make my characters eyes green which is a thing I do pretty often in games to differentiate my guy as a character ! I have a clear idea of my farmer as a character I'd really like to draw him

[ghostiesim]

hii 2 and 7 for irene and claire 🤗

*rubs hands together* okay here we go.

2. What’s your oc’s orientation? (Romantic/sexual/platonic alterous ect) Do they have opinions about it?

claire: claire is a lesbian/gay woman but at the time of my story i think she's still somewhat coming to terms with who she is because she's only 19 or so and it's circa 2007 + she's got that waspy upbringing to cope with. but i will make her find love.

irene: irene on the other hand is way less concerned about any of this...she's def what i would probably call fluid, she grew up around a lot of different types of people in the movie business and her mother is kind of a (albeit troubled) free spirit who def would have lots of queer friends. so i think she's kind of open to dating all kinds of people and is pretty open-minded in general.

7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?

claire: i think claire sometimes wishes she could change who she is but ultimately i think she started to realize she was gay in like middle school so she's pretty sure of who she is, even if she doesn't always like it?

irene: she's already v open to questioning the world and the people around her so i think she would always be open to question more about herself assuming she makes it out of the woods.

[seagullcharmer]

I JUST HUNG UP ON THE CDC??????

[jjba-smash-or-pass]

clash skipped? no shark? chomp chomp?

yeah sorry. young man rule. you know how it is.

[goddevouringserpent]

38 from the character development questions, dealer's choice of who :)

38. Is there anything they wish they could change about their worldview or thought processes? What, and why?

ooh this is a very good one for Irenni (my other KC that I haven't developed as much despite loving her almost as intensely) because the thing about Irenni is... she's unequivocally, objectively Good—at least as per the rules of a world where Good is something you can be and not just something you do—but she is also torn between many different sides of herself & their accompanying mindsets

Irenni is Neutral Good and in the Angel path and her first and foremost priority is always, always to help people and make the world a kinder place and become the better version of herself she can be—but there's so many versions of Irenni. it's a kaleidoscope. she's an Angel of Compassion but as the game progresses she becomes absolutely obsessed with the concept of attaining divinity to the point where it clouds her judgment and she makes some... questionable decisions for the sake of love; she is a Rakshasa-blooded tiefling with fey ancestry (or at least she assumes so, considering her abilities as a Sylvan Sorcerer) and sees that as a burden on her, which is why she actively, openly rejects Chaos and Evil as fundamental forces of the universe, because she has to prove she's More Than, perhaps over an innate desire to just do Good. and there is little place left amidst all that for Irenni Korez, for whoever she is without the Mythic powers and the tiefling blood and the fey ancestry.

so with this ABSOLUTE BEHEMOTH of an introduction out of the way, and please do forgive the behemoth I just get carried away sometimes & moreover it is relevant to the answer, I swear: she is, overall, satisfied with her worldview, with her moral compass, even if it's less than perfect and all too often hinges on sentiment. however, her thought process is... another matter entirely. every single time she has a less than charitable thought, something rude or mean or chaotic, the temptation of an easy way out, she wonders if it's Irenni -the-person thinking that or Irenni-the-tiefling, or Irenni-the-fae-blooded, or a mixture of that. as of late, all her good thoughts are met with the same amount of existential suspicion: is it her, or the Light of Heaven? (and... the less I say about the state of her thought process post-Areelu's reveal, the better.) and she wishes, oh-so-dearly, that she could stop nitpicking and overanalysing every thought that crosses her mind because ultimately it matters little, her actions are what's important, what define Irenni-the-person in opposition to Irenni-and-her-trillion-influences. but it's difficult, and she can't take one single step without asking herself where the urge to take said step came from, and is it benefitting anyone, and is it hurting anyone, and there a better way, and and and and—

she thinks circles around herself and, despite knowing it's hardly ever of use, she can't stop it because she's terrified of what might happen to her identity if she does. but she wishes she could. she wishes she could allow herself to just... be.

[cheemken]

Knight you got me feeling

After reading bout the Unova kids. Like.. they’re each other’s friends. Each other’s family. But even if she never voiced it, Iris always felt a small bit of resentment towards the Twins because people always gave the credit to them. Even though she gave everything to protect Unova from harm, she was outshined by the two Hero’s. Even though she was a Hero herself

But goddd Bianca liking both Iris and Hilda. And these two being respectful of each other and agreeing to let Bianca decide. But now Iris is reminded of all the little things Hilda had stolen from her. The fame, the credit, the title, the respect. And now she’s trying to steal Bianca from her, just like she had with everything else. But she’s not going to let Hilda get away with stealing from her ever again. She’s been passive about it for to long

(But ough, I am being sane about this. Like Iris had been relatively okay with Hilda and Hilbert taking the credit from her because she knew they didn’t mean to. The public just liked them better then her. But now that she’s losing it she’s taking her anger out on everyone about anything, including her friends)

GOD RIGHT CBXMCBMDNFMDBD

Your honour everytime I make a concept abt them I have to be my own goddamn therapist they make me so fucking ill😭😭

Like yeah Iris really hated the fact that the public liked the twins better than her, but they're her friends yknow, they were so supportive of her, they were nice to her and told her how strong she was, that out of all of em, they always felt safe w her bc she's strong and capable yknow, that they could really trust her. But shit they didn't really do much abt all the comments Iris gets. Like they'd tell her to just not listen to them yknow, that those comments aren't worth anything, the people of Unova were just being very bitter. But it's also the fact that they say that while bending over backwards trying to please the Unovan people too. That they never got any hate from them, that even N, who was formerly Plasma's king, was better off than her and it's so fucking unfair man.

What was it abt her that was so easy to hate? She kept repeating that question over and over and over again until she cries herself to sleep. She asked Drayden abt it, he pulled her in for a hug, telling her to not mind those comments. Told her the same thing her friends said. If anything he'll make sure that the people of Opelucid doesn't see her as weak, they should know better. But that didn't change anything, fake smiles and promises managed to fool Drayden, and still she suffered.

Then a tournament at Kalos, all the Champions are there, she still hears those whispers, how they doubt she could even get past the first round. It messes her up ofc, she told Diantha and Lance abt it. They were not happy, not one bit, and they actually did something. They went and confronted the people who looked down on her, told them off, told them how Iris was stronger than she seemed. And that actually shut them up, when Iris got to the semi finals they cheered for her, even if she lost to Lance. They became her fans, supporting her too. And that really made her happy.

So why can't her friends do that too? Did they secretly hate her? Years later she really believed that, that maybe they liked being in the limelight, that they liked the praise being said to them, that the people of Unova hold them is such high regards. She hears how Hilbert should've won against Iris, she hears how Hilda was such a hero helping around Unova. She hears how the twins were just so perfect, how they're doing a much better job than Iris, but she was doing the same as them tenfold. She's already struggling as it is, yet even w that the people of Unova just didn't like her and she doesn't understand why. She ended up hating her friends bc of that

But now she has smth yknow. She has Diantha and Lance as her parents, and they actually do smth to stop the hate. She has Kyurem, her very own legendary dragon who trusts her so much, who was so lonely before he met her. She has the Shadow Triad, despite it all, they grew close, somehow they confided w each other, and they grew loyal to her. She has Team Plasma, and they were so loyal to her as well, giving her the respect she deserves. She has Bianca,, well, had. Ofc, the person Iris wanted to be in her life still, the person who she wanted to share her future w, Hilda took her away.

Was she not satisfied with everything else she took? She had to take Bianca away from her despite Bianca telling Iris that she loves her. Hilda is so fucking unfair. For Iris, it felt like one final fuck you before she takes everything else that she finally has in her life away from her too.

[elektroblues]

i realized that i’m even attracted to johnny’s look in his era when he has hair as bad as liquid era alan and idk how i feel LMAO

when the man is hot does he ever really have a bad hair era

[dirt-str1der]

Whatever kiryu does to you might not always be the best or even safest option but he will always do it with a lot of love in his eyes so you have to forgive him

[causenessus]

PLSSSS i'm glad that you're okay!! + isolating is so fun tbh i do it too often there was once i didnt leave the house for two weeks and i ruined my body clock and basically turned nocturnal and i got called out bc my mom hasnt seen me at all during all that 😔 but it's refreshing to my brain it lets me reboot like a computer made in 1980s i would've seen your answer a bit earlier but my nephew deadass woke up and decided to cough and vomit on me 😐 love that for me 🥳 BUT it's never a vent fr i WANT to know and i'm glad you're telling me <3 NYEHEHEHE LOVE YOU 🌷🐻

YES U GET WHAT I MEAN IT'S LIKE A REBOOT!!! but man what your nephew hello?? 😭😭 I'm sorry he vomited on you that sounds NASTY ans thank u so much for saying that!! I love you too!!! sorry it took me so long to respond I just woke up after taking a nap on my friend's floor 💀💀

[heleizition]

eye emoji. who helps the lads with the kid... someone give able therapyyy we are handing out therapy to everyone. ev e r y o n e. but baby angel!! adopted siblings!!! lovely. i do like the song!! i only understood like one outta ten words but the v i be is off the charts, very good sounds. whats the... design type and shit. whats the difference between angel and demons? hows the theology work? what makes someone higher ranking and what makes noah the highest?

ok i dont have recent art of the characters i was thinking abt at all so bear with me. i have two ocs from my very very first oc group, arthur and maria, who were always the support team and i was thinking abt them,,, so im thinking theres a whole group of people who are angels, demons, but mostly who are out of that system, living in that purgatory space, and who abel and cain work with/helped out to get out in the past...

arthur was always the scientist/mechanic one ? so im thinking that. cain n abel see that jasper is unresponsive and they bring him to that little group to find whats wrong, if theres a way to fix him, or if he's really just... a messed up experiment who has no will of his own.

so jasper spent a lot of time w that little group !!! he has a whole family............................. sobs gently

ive thought abt angel a bit (im gonna keep calling them angel i think sobs). they live inside of jasper's body heart and soul, very long blond hair, little sunshine person, tries very hard to help jasper without him being able to hear him,,, they're also most likely blind. either from something before/how they were created or spending so much time as jasper's body. no lights in there.

design differences between angel and demons :

demons have horns, typical devil tails, and typical devil wings

angels have typical angel wings, lion like tails, and a halo that isnt always here but ! it appears !

they can both fly but it's a learned skill. lena is great at it but nell is SHIT at it lmao. angel would have very tiny useless wings bc they could never fly : ( babey

also all angels and demons have a power, a way to fight when they wake up... most times it's weapon summoning (knives for nell, bow and arrow for vik, sword for titania... the list goes on) but sometimes it mutates (eden for exemple w his healing. cody has a similar mutation but im not set on it. something that looks like white fire which could be an indication of who she is lol)

the theology and the hierarchy.............................. its veeeery vague for now . basically god communicates with the higher ranks of each sides. the war started forever ago for god's favors. at first god would help the side they liked most - never using their full power or smth, but giving little help here and there, a legendary weapon, a vision of what the other side was plotting... eventually god got bored of the war and left them to their own devices, each side thinking that they were waiting for one of them to win. so they kept on with the war.

the war in itself has been in a standstill for centuries. angels and demons both go on earth to achieve some things - helping or hurting someone mostly, depending or sides and orders - and it's usually where they end up seeing each other and trying to kill on sight. its a whole aspect i havent really explored yet, and also how vik and nell meet !

the hierarchy is more of a,,,,, typical political,,,, votes and stuff,,,,,,, there's a noah equivalent on the demon side but i havent really pushed that too much yet. in the end its ok if i dont figure out all those details because it's not what interests me until i have a an actual idea :]

[sttoru]

ahh i just cant stop thinking of sukuna's fav concubine getting injured from the other concubines but she hides it because shes scared of being weak (in sukuna's eyes) and/or a burden ☹️☹️

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, sprinkle of angst n comfort. size difference. reader gets called ‘brat, woman, little one’ — ig this is a bit early in their relationship

“i’ve arrived, my lord,” you announce your presence once you step into sukuna’s quarters. the dimly lit room removed all the stress you currently had in your system—the knowledge that you’re safe in his space causes your shoulders to drop.

sukuna turns his head to look at you while he’s laid back on his bed, topless. all four of his eyes roam over your body, which isn’t anything unusual for you. he always does that.

“tch. took ya long enough,” the king of curses scoffs before gesturing for you to come closer, making that familiar motion with his fingers, “when i order y’ to come, you’re supposed to drop everything and rush to be at my service, woman.”

you hurry over to his side of the bed with a nod. “my apologies,” you mutter. you can’t tell him why you’re late, because hell would break loose within these walls. and also because you’re scared of what his reaction would be.

before being called over, you were in the kitchen, peacefully trying to get a snack, when two other concubines entered the room. you tried ignoring them, but that didn’t seem to be the smartest move. it wasn’t long before they threw derogatory remarks at you.

of course, you stood up for yourself and yelled some back. that’s when one of them pushed you backwards, causing the skin near your hand to get slightly burned by the fire on the stove.

if it weren’t for the maids around that went to report the ruckus to uraume, god knows what more would have went down in that kitchen.

“oi,” sukuna grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. he can immediately notice the vacant look in your eyes, which is unusual for you. you snap out of your trance and set the nasty memories aside—ignoring the impulse to scratch the injury on your wrist.

“i’m sorry, my lord,” you say again before slowly undoing your obi. you figure that is why sukuna had called you over, to do your job as his concubine. you halt your movements when you realise that undressing meant that he’s going to see the wound on your skin.

you hesitate. that same instant of hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed by the king of curses. a large hand of his moves to stop both of your wrists from pulling off your robes.

“. . .i’m giving y’ three seconds of my time,” sukuna narrows his eyes after allowing you to speak up and tell him what’s on your mind. he hears you whimper in pain when he holds onto your wrist, your facial expression clearly uncomfortable. “spit it out,” he impatiently huffs. he wants to hear you say what’s wrong.

you desperately shake your head, biting your bottom lip. you don’t want to tell him—even though you know you’re obligated to.

denying an answer to sukuna was your next big mistake.

“fuckin’ brat,” the pink-haired man grunts. he yanks your arms up to his face, harshly pulling down the sleeves of your kimono. all four of his red eyes immediately fall onto the wound on your wrist. you obviously hadn’t treat it yet, even though you should have done so long ago.

there’s tension hanging in the air almost instantly after your little secret gets revealed. sukuna’s grip on your hands tightens which causes you to flinch. you close your eyes and expect the worst. you can already hear the insults he’ll throw at you—how he’ll call you useless, weak, stupid and all that.

“look up at me,” his voice rings out in a firm tone. you don’t want to anger him more than he already is, so you obey. you open your eyes and glance upwards, your worried gaze meeting his.

sukuna takes a deep breath to contain the bubbling rage inside of him; a rare sight indeed. he doesn’t want to unnecessarily lash out at you when it isn’t needed. however, he can’t deny that itching urge in his chest, to get mad at whoever caused your skin to get tainted like that.

sukuna stares at you with an intimidating glare. when you expect him to yell profanities at you, the unexpected happens.

“who did this to you?” he asks, voice strained like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you blink a few times. the king of curses sounds pissed off, and when he’s in that kind of mood, you know he’s not to be played with. you look the other way and try to think of a proper answer.

will you snitch and cause unnecessary bloodbath, or will you spare the lives of the concubines who hurt you and lie?

you’re scared of being seen as useless by sukuna if you tell him the truth. if you lie, he’ll probably call you weak and stupid as well. it’s a lose-lose situation, you conclude.

you swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth before parting your lips.

“m-miko,” her name echoes in his ears. you decide to be honest, because you know that there’s no fooling the ryomen sukuna. a second of silence follows and when you look up at him, he stares back at you with furrowed brows.

“ah,” you then realise that he doesn’t know his concubines by name. he has way too many women at his disposal and doesn’t find them worthy enough to remember.

however you have heard from uraume and the others that he does know your name—only yours. it makes you feel special.

you try to describe the concubine you’ve tussled with, “s-short blonde hair, uhm, mole under her right eye.. brown colored eyes—“

sukuna thinks for a moment before clicking his tongue once he faintly remembers who that’s supposed to be. without a word, he stands up and wraps one muscular arm around your waist, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you under his armpit like some package.

“uraume!”

his voice is loud enough to make the walls shake and it carries a clear hint of pure rage. everyone in the estate should have heard him by now, which means that they know what is going down in a couple seconds.

sukuna sounding this angry only means one thing; someone is going to die today.

the servants hurriedly scurry around, deeply bowing as he walks past them in the hallway with you still tucked underneath his arms. you let yourself be carried while your heart beats uncontrollably fast in your chest.

you feel your hands shake a bit. seeing someone like sukuna be this mad for your sake—to the point that he’s ready to turn the entire area upside down—is somehow thrilling. though, you can’t help but feel sick because of your own thoughts.

someone is going to die and there you are, cheesing about the king of curses.

you see the white-haired chef appear from a corner, their steps hurried. they glance at you and then back at their master. it’s like they immediately connect the dots.

“treat her in my quarters. don’t let her leave until i come back,” sukuna commands without even looking at uraume. he’s staring ahead, with an ominous aura emitting from his body, one that somebody can sense from miles away.

he puts you down next to uraume before glancing your way one last time. he lets out a deep sigh as he sees the worried expression you’re making. he lowers his head to your level so you’d be face to face.

“and you,” his warm breath hits your cheeks and sends a shiver down your spine. you gulp as sukuna’s hand reaches up to firmly tug at your earlobe, “i’ll deal with your ass later, yeah? i’ll make you feel what it means to hide stuff from me, little one.”

that sentence makes you even more nervous. you know you won’t be able to avoid the punishment sukuna has in mind, so you simply nod. “understood,” you reply in a squeaky voice. you don’t have the guts to disobey him—he’s already out to kill someone and you don’t want to be the next victim.

sukuna straightens his back again and continues his journey towards the concubines’ quarters. every heavy step makes the floors and walls shake, a sign of his unstoppable rage that’s about to be unleashed.

you feel slightly puzzled. you didn’t expect this outcome when you revealed your injury to the ruthless man. you expected to be belittled and mocked for not being able to prevent a wound from being inflicted on your body.

instead, there he goes, off to get revenge in your stead. you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction after seeing sukuna be this protective over you. actions like these demonstrate more than his dull words can do, even if it may seem like he doesn’t care about what could happen to a human like you.

[seraphdreams]

GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!

fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.

it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.

although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.

vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.

fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —

knock, knock.

“delivery for y/n?”

stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.

three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.

whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.

“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.

you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.

there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.

to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”

he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.

“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.

was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?

as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”

his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.

“it’s milk, darling.”

“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.

to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.

anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.

it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.

he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.

“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.

it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.

your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.

“for you, it’s free of charge.”

maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.

you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.

after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.

in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.

his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”

his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.

drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.

“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.

“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.

how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?

before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”

he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.

his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.

it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.

oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.

“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”

you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”

toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”

you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.

with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.

a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.

as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.

rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.

“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”

the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.

one thrust. two thrust. three.

he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.

what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.

slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.

your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.

“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.

it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.

he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.

all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”

instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”

each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.

“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.

it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.

satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.

in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.

oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.

toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”

the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.

you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.

fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.

with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.

he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.

“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”

his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.

“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”

only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.

following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.

“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[lipringlrh]

HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER.

lando ending | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

The music was too loud but Lando was so close that he didn’t need to alter his volume - he was talking at the perfect volume that only you could hear him. Each sentence was getting lower, deeper and quieter, but your own mind made him louder, filling up every space in it with replays of him. He was engrossing. He was all you could think about.

He almost dropped the cup in his hand as he took the final step closer, not that the cup would've mattered to him, his only concern would’ve been making sure you stay dry. Still, your throat turned dry at the little distance between you both; at the prospect of what was surely about to happen.

His free hand drifted to your jaw, holding it so delicately and manoeuvring your face gently to face up at him at the perfect angle for him to kiss you. When it was just right, and he could no longer remove his eyes from your lips, not even for a second, his hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place.

He leaned down, oozing out confidence despite the absolute fear inside of him, and rested his forehead against yours. You had closed your eyes, expecting him to kiss you, but you opened them again when you realised he wasn’t, pulling away only slightly due to the hand on your head preventing it further.

“Lan,” you breathed, your tone showing everything that you weren’t saying, “What are you waiting for?”

His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily like resisting kissing you was the hardest thing that he’d ever done in his life. “I’m just making sure you want this,” he paused, opening his eyes and flicking them between your eyes and your lips, “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” you responded instantly, your desperation being evident from miles away. He held back a chuckle and instead revelled in the fact that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “Please, Lan.”

“So polite,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. He titled your head again, bringing you impossibly closer. You could feel his shirt against your chest and his breathing on your face - there was no going back and you both knew it.

He was going to kiss you, he was leaning down, too slowly for your liking but it was happening and so you weren’t complaining. You felt a ghost touch against your lips - the slightest feeling - but it was there before being harshly ripped away in an instant.

“Mate! I’m going now, congrats on the podium,” Carlos said after walking up to Lando from behind, a hand on his back, the other one shaking his hand.

“Congrats on your win, more like it,” Lando replied, a half smile on his face, trying to be as genuine as possible and not show his annoyance that his moment was ruined.

Carlos looked towards you, about to share a goodbye with you, before noticing your dazed look and shifting between you and Lando as he noticed what was happening. “Shit- sorry, man- carry on, I’ll see you later, yeah?” he said, not letting either of you reply before wandering off, towards the door.

You both stood there frozen for a while, not speaking or moving, just staring into each other's eyes, begging the other for an answer.

Quickly, Lando had given up and stood up straight, looking into his cup and swirling what was left around. “I’m getting another drink, do you want anything?”

“No,” you said, barely audible and no longer looking at him or in his general direction. If you hadn’t shook your head as you spoke, he wouldn’t have known what you said and he really didn’t want to get into an awkward cycle of asking you to repeat yourself a few times before he finally heard you.

“I’ll find you,” was all he said as he left. You watched him as he cut through the crowds to the bar and ordered a drink and a shot, downing the shot the second that he got it.

He turned around and scanned the room, briefly meeting your eyes. You could tell he was debating whether to come back or not but you didn’t know what he decided as he began to stand up, so you made the decision for him and walked away to the side of the club, hopefully weaving through the tides of people enough that it would take a while for him to find you.

You ended up in one of the back corners of the club, pushing yourself into the wall so that people could squeeze past you and so you could people watch better. You were busying yourself giving strangers names and storylines, trying to distract yourself from whatever just happened, or could’ve happened, when you almost threw yourself to the floor in shock from a sudden hand waving in front of your face.

“Don’t jump - I was just trying to get your attention. I called your name a few times,” Alex said. You turned to look at him, slouching right next to you against the wall.

“Sorry, loud music,” you replied. It wasn’t a lie, the music was loud, but you could barely hear it over your thoughts whirring anyway. You watched Alex grimace and shake his head, somehow knowing it wasn’t the music distracting you.

“I saw,” he hummed as you took in a sharp intake of breath.

“I don’t-”

“You kissed him, finally, then what happened? Why are you all alone?” he questioned, his eyes scanning the place for Lando, knowing he’s not usually the type to leave you alone in places like this. He could tell you were upset and confused, and he needed to get to the bottom of it in order to work out whether he’d need to drive his car into Lando’s during the next race or not.

“No- he almost kissed me. Again. Carlos interrupted and he left. He left, Alex. Asked if I wanted a drink and left,” you spat, a mixture of uncertainty and anger clouding your voice. Why did he leave? He started it and left knowing exactly what was happening whilst leaving you with nothing - it was unfair.

Alex sighed. He wasn’t happy with Lando but knew what he felt for you and ultimately wanted to give him the chance to tell you without any mistakes.

“Maybe talk to him about it. He might just be unsure of where you’d like it to go-”

“He called the shots, Alex, he does it whenever he’s drunk, I don’t think he gets to be the confused one,” you sighed, looking at your feet. Alex paused and tried to think of another way to give Lando another chance to tell you how he feels without ruining it.

“Maybe talk to him when he’s sober. He’ll-”

“He doesn’t want me when he’s sober,” you whispered but wanted to scream. It hurt you to say it but you felt like it was true. Alex felt his breath hitch and his heart ache to scream at you that Lando does want you.

“That’s not right. Who wouldn’t want you?” he could see how it was affecting you and wanted nothing more than to make you feel better, but his train of thought was abandoned when he saw your body recoil into the wall in disgust.

He followed your eyeline to find Lando towards the middle of the room, kissing some girl that you had never seen before. He was leaning into her as if he’d die if he let go, and his hand was on the same place on the back of her head as it was on yours.

“Oh,” Alex said, not really knowing what else he could do. He was furious and wanted to mortify Lando in front of everyone in the room.

“Yeah, oh,” you repeated sarcastically. Your knees felt weak and your eyes were on the brink of bursting - it was impossible to hide if you tried. “I’m going to go home,” was all you could get out, your voice choking on every word.

You tried to convince yourself that you weren’t upset and rather you were disgusted but you couldn’t after the image of Lando sucking some other girl's face was plastered in your mind and you shed tears the whole way home. Lando didn’t know - in your mind he didn’t even care but as you were crying to Alex and Lily in an uber, he was looking for you everywhere. But as it hit him, the guilt and weight of what he’d done, and the realisation that you must’ve seen, he prayed that you’d let him explain, like he did every time this happened, whilst you would tell yourself, again, that you meant it this time; that he was too late.

lando ending | logan ending