#Or both. Actually I think all of them did both

[harrysfolklore]

future wife - ln4

summary: lando always says that yn russell is his future wife. the entire paddock thinks he's just joking, but he's not. wc: 6k + social media posts

folkie radio: HERE IT IS !!! FINALLY !! i loved writing lovesick puppy lando so so much and i really hope you love him too. PLEASE SEND YOUR FEEDBACK AND LEAVE A REBLOG !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 206,378 others

yn.russell silverstone race weekends always hit different 🥹 big bro starting front row tomorrow and i couldn’t be prouder LETS GOOOO

view all comments

username1 the most iconic russell

username2 COME ON RUSSELL NATION

landonorris excuse me why didn’t you include a picture of your future husband here ??

↳ yn.russell lando your delusions are talking again

↳ username1 hey he ALWAYS does this

↳ username2 lando and yn’s banter will never get old

carmenmmundt Love you both ❤️

username3 LANDO BEING ANNOYING IN THIS COMMENT SECTION AS ALWAYS

charles_leclerc I see homeboy trying to shoot his shot again

↳ landonorris what are you talking about? we’ll get married

↳ yn.russell LANDO STOP 😭

username4 she’s the real paddock princess

username5 lando really said fake it till you make it

username6 GEORGIE BOY DID IT

georgerussell63 Love you so much little one 🤍 Also Lando, she’s still my sister

↳ landonorris and? she’s my girl 😍

↳ yn.russell STOP

liked by yn.russell, maxverstappen1 and 986,409 others

landonorris honey i’m hooooome 🇬🇧😘 picture by my favorite girl @/yn.russell

view all comments

username1 LANDOOOOO

username2 the papaya hat is killing me

username3 CALLING LITTLE RUSSELL HIS GIRL AS ALWAYS

mclaren Papaya forever 🧡

username4 manifesting lando and yn wedding

carlossainz55 Just wait until George finds you cabron

↳ landonorris he knows she’s my future wife

↳ georgerussell63 I HATE YOU

username5 DYING AT THIS COMMENT SECTION LANDO YOU HAVE NO SHAME

username6 lando and yn are my favorite platonic lovers (actually there’s nothing platonic about them we all know it)

username7 SO BOYFRIEND CODED

yn.russell lando i need you to look at me when i tell you this…

↳ landonorris yes i do darling 😍

↳ georgerussell63 I’m literally never letting you two fly together again

↳ username1 IM WHEEZING

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You're lounging in George's motorhome at the track, scrolling through your phone while he reviews data with Alex. Carmen is perched on the sofa beside you, both of you sharing occasional knowing looks at the boys' intense focus on lap times.

"Oh, by the way," you say casually, not looking up from your phone, "I won't be around for dinner tonight. Got a date."

The effect is immediate. George's head snaps up from the screen, Alex nearly drops his water bottle, and Carmen tries (and fails) to hide her amused smile.

"A date?" George's protective brother mode activates instantly. "With who?"

"That new marketing guy from McLaren," you reply, finally glancing up. "Jacob. You know, the one I was talking to at the paddock party last week?"

"The tall blonde one?" Alex pipes up, earning himself a sharp look from George.

"Not helping, mate," George mutters.

"He seems nice," Carmen offers diplomatically, though there's something knowing in her expression that you can't quite read.

"Speaking of nice," Alex says with a poorly concealed grin, "should we tell Lando? You know, since he's been planning your wedding since 2018 and all."

The friendship between you and Lando dates back to karting days, when you'd tag along with George to races. You were fourteen when you first met a tiny, curly-haired Lando who immediately declared you were "pretty cool for a girl." Despite George's protective big brother routine, you and Lando became inseparable during race weekends.

The marriage jokes started right when Lando was making his F2 debut. You were both hanging out in the paddock when he suddenly announced, "When we get married, our wedding colors have to be papaya orange. Because I know I'll drive for Mclaren"

"Bold of you to assume I'd marry you, Norris," you'd laughed.

"Please, you love me," he'd grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Plus, I've already told my mum you're the one. Can't disappoint her now, darling."

That was the first time he called you darling, but it certainly wasn't the last. Over the years, the pet names multiplied - love, sweetheart, future wife - each one delivered with that characteristic Lando grin that somehow managed to be both cheeky and endearing.

But at the end of the day, he was Lando. And it was all jokes.

"He's probably too busy planning our honeymoon in papaya-colored paradise to care about my actual dating life," you said, trying to sound casual.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Carmen murmurs, just as the door bursts open.

Lando's characteristic energy walks in, his curls slightly messy from his helmet. "Hello lads! Future wife," he grins, making his way over and dramatically flopping onto the couch, his head landing in your lap like it's his designated spot.

"Comfortable?" you ask dryly, but your hand automatically goes to his curls.

"Very," he beams up at you. "Why's everyone looking so serious though? Did George finally realize his neck's too long?"

"Ha ha," George deadpans, while Carmen tries to hide her laugh behind her hand.

"Little Russell was just telling us she's got a date tonight," Alex announces, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding.

Lando sits up so fast he nearly headbutts you. "A what now?"

"A date," you repeat, watching as his face does a complicated journey before settling on forced nonchalance. "With Jacob from marketing."

"McLaren Jacob?" Lando's voice goes up an octave. "My Jacob?"

"He's not your Jacob," you roll your eyes. "And yes, that Jacob."

"The one who still can't figure out how to work the coffee machine?" Lando scoffs, repositioning himself to face you properly. "Come on, darling, you can do better than that. What happened to our sacred Friday night FIFA tournaments?"

"Sacred?" George snorts. "Is that what you call screaming at the TV when she beats you?"

"Oi, whose side are you on?" Lando throws a nearby cushion at George. "Besides, I let her win. Can't have my girl crying, can I?"

"Your girl?" you raise an eyebrow, ignoring the way your stomach flips at his words.

"Obviously," he grins, but there's something slightly off about it. "Who else is going to fulfill my mum's dreams of having you as a daughter-in-law?"

"I'm sure Jacob would love to hear about these marriage plans," Alex teases, earning himself a glare from Lando.

"He better watch himself," Lando mutters, then louder, "Where's he taking you anyway? Probably somewhere boring like that chain restaurant near the factory."

"Actually," you say, "he's taking me to that new rooftop place in town."

"The one I said we should try?" Lando looks genuinely offended now. "That's just... that's just rude, love. I called dibs on taking you there."

"When exactly did you call dibs?" Carmen asks innocently.

"In my head," Lando protests. "This is not fair."

You poke his side. "Jealous, Norris?"

"Of course I am," he says, and for a moment, his voice loses its playful edge. "Can't have someone stealing my future wife away. We've got plans, remember? House in Surrey, three kids, dog named Fernando..."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?" you laugh.

"Been planning our future since I was fourteen, love," he grins, but there's something soft in his eyes. "Now, would you cancel on Jacob and have a proper movie night with your future husband instead?"

"Still not your wife, Lando," you remind him.

"Not yet," he corrects, "But I'm a patient man, darling."

"Okay this is getting weird," Alex chimes in, "Lando, we're leaving. Little Russell, have fun on your date."

"Right," Lando stands up, but his usual bouncy energy seems subdued. "Have fun with boring Jacob. But just remember," he points at you with mock seriousness, though something flickers in his eyes, "I'm not giving up without a fight. Can't let some marketing guy steal the love of my life, can I?"

"The love of your life?" you roll your eyes, ignoring the way your heart skips.

"Since karting, darling," he winks, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Come on, Alex, let's leave the Russell siblings to their protective brother-sister chat."

As soon as the door closes behind them, Carmen turns to you with raised eyebrows. "You really have that boy pining over you, you know that right?"

"Oh please," you wave her off, though your cheeks feel warm. "We're just joking around. We've been doing this since forever."

"Sure, sister, sure," George snorts, exchanging a knowing look with Carmen. "Because every guy I know plans out their future house in Surrey with their 'joke' wife."

"And names their future dog Fernando," Carmen adds.

"It's just Lando being Lando," you insist, but you can't help glancing at the door where he'd disappeared. "He jokes like this with everyone."

"Really?" Carmen leans forward. "Because I've never heard him call anyone else 'the love of his life' or 'darling' or plan out their wedding colors."

"Or look like someone kicked his puppy when they mention going on a date with someone else," George adds.

"You're both reading way too much into this," you say, standing up and grabbing your bag. "I have to go get ready for my date with Jacob."

"The date that Lando looked absolutely thrilled about," George mutters under his breath.

You pretend not to hear him as you leave, trying to ignore the way Lando's slightly hurt expression keeps playing in your mind.

Because it's all jokes. And he's just Lando.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 211,984 others

yn.russell great great night 😙

view all comments

username1 OMGG LITTLE RUSSELL

username2 she's so pretty its not fair

flonorris1 we need to catch up 👀

username3 HUHH DID LANDO FINALLY ASK HER OUT

username4 how did george allow her to go on a date

charles_leclerc Oblivious little baby russell

↳ yn.russell ?

↳ username1 EXPLAIN

iamrebeccad Prettiest girl 😍

jacob___ ❤️

↳ yn.russell 😘

↳ georgerussell63 I'm watching...

↳ username1 IM YELLING

↳ username2 WHATS GOING ONNN

landonorris the prettiest girl in the world and my future wife idc idc

↳ username1 lando have some class ffs

↳ yn.russell ENOUGH

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by carmenmmundt, jacob__ and 229,836 others

yn.russell snaps from the summer break 💙 happy happy

view all comments

username1 AN ICON

username2 i wish i was this pinterest feed coded

carmenmmundt Love you my girl !

username3 HOLD ON. THE SECOND PICTURE

username4 did she just soft launch 👀👀

username5 LITTLE RUSSELL HAS A BOYFRIEND ?????

username6 if her bf is not lando we don’t want it

alex_albon i know someone who’s NOT going to like this

landonorris my darling 😍😍 do u miss me as much as i miss youuuu?

↳ username1 HES SHAMELESS

↳ yn.russell STOP THIS MADNESS

georgerussell63 I know a lot of ways to make a crash look accidental

↳ yn.russell you’re literally not intimidating anyone BYE

↳ username1 SO SHE DOES HAVE A BF

jacob__ ❤️

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The sun is surprisingly bright as you make your way through the Zandvoort paddock, dodging various team personnel rushing around for Thursday preparations. The summer break was finally over and it was time for race cars again. You're just turning the corner when you hear a familiar voice.

"There's my darling!" Lando calls out, jogging over with his signature grin. "Thought you'd forgotten about your future husband during the break."

Before you can respond, he's pulled you into a tight hug. You catch a whiff of his familiar cologne, the one he's worn since F2, and automatically hug him back.

"How was your summer?" he asks, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he starts walking with you. "Did you miss me terribly? Cry yourself to sleep thinking about our FIFA rematch?"

"Actually," you start, feeling unexpectedly nervous, "I've got some news."

"Oh?" His eyes light up. "Did George finally admit his neck is abnormally long? Because I've been saying—"

"Jacob and I are officially together," you cut in quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. "Like, properly together. Boyfriend and girlfriend."

Lando's step falters slightly, his arm dropping from your shoulders. "What?"

"Yeah," you continue, fiddling with your paddock pass. "We kept seeing each other after that first date, and during the break... it just got serious."

"Serious?" His voice sounds strange. "How serious? When did this— why am I just finding out about this?"

"We wanted to keep it quiet at first, you know? But he talked to the higher-ups at McLaren today about dating someone connected to another team, and they're cool with it, so..." you trail off, watching his face carefully.

"Cool with it," he repeats slowly. Then, visibly forcing his usual grin, "Well, that's... that's great, love. Really great. Though I have to say, my mum will be devastated. She was really counting on those papaya-themed grandchildren."

But his joke falls flat, lacking its usual warmth. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Lando—"

"No, really," he cuts in, running a hand through his curls. "I'm happy for you. Even if he is rubbish at making coffee. And boring. And probably doesn't even know your favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip, or that you secretly love watching those terrible reality shows, or that you—" he stops himself, clearing his throat. "Anyway. Good for you. Both of you."

You're about to respond when his race engineer calls him over.

"Duty calls," he says, already backing away. "But hey, tell Jacob he better treat my future wife right. Even if she's... not actually my future wife anymore."

He tries to wink, but it looks more like a flinch. Before you can say anything else, he's gone, leaving you standing alone in the paddock with an inexplicable heaviness in your chest.

But you immediately brush it off. Because at the end of the day, he's just Lando.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 276,504 others

yn.russell making it official 🤍 @/jacob___

view all comments

username1 OH?

username2 YALL HE WORKS FOR MCLAREN ??

username3 what happened to lando ?? the marriage proposal??

georgerussell63 About time you stopped sneaking around 🙄

↳ yn.russell shut up old man

↳ carlossainz55 Protective brother mode activated

carmenmmundt You guys look so cute! ❤️

↳ yn.russell love you xxx

alex_albon Well this is going to be interesting 👀

↳ landonorris mate.

↳ alex_albon what? I said nothing

username4 But what about Lando?? 😭 They were literally perfect together

usernsme5 nooo my ship is sinking

username6 the way lando looks at her tho…

jacob___❤️

↳ yn.russell 🤍

landonorris i guess i need to find a new future wife then 🤷‍♂️ applications open x

↳ danielricciardo i volunteer as tribute mate

↳ landonorris sorry mate you're not george's sister

↳ carlossainz55 You okay there buddy?

↳ yn.russell don't worry, you'll always be my favorite husband-that-never-was x

↳ landonorris 💔

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yn.russell has added to their stories

landonorris has replied to your story

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Singapore night air is thick with humidity and celebration. The club's bass thrums through your bones as you watch Lando being congratulated for what feels like the hundredth time. He's practically glowing, champagne-drunk and victory-high, but something seems off about his smile.

"Babe, want another drink?" Jacob's voice pulls your attention back. His hand is possessively placed on your lower back, and you notice Lando's eyes flicker to it before he quickly looks away.

Across the VIP section, Alex nudges Charles, nodding towards where Lando is now aggressively stabbing at his ice with a straw.

"Subtle, mate," Alex smirks, sliding into the booth beside Lando. "Very subtle."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Lando mutters, but his eyes betray him, darting back to where Jacob is now whispering something in your ear.

"Ah, l'amour," Charles sighs dramatically. "It is painful, no?"

"Nothing's painful," Lando protests, straightening up. "I just won a Grand Prix, in case you forgot."

"And yet you look like someone stole your puppy," Alex points out.

"Or your future wife," Charles adds with a knowing look.

"She was never actually going to be my future wife," Lando says, but his voice lacks conviction. "It was just jokes. Always has been. She's George's sister, for fuck's sake."

"Right," Alex drawls. "So you wouldn't mind if I told you they're probably going to move in together soon?"

Lando chokes on his drink. "They're what?"

"He's joking," Charles quickly intervenes, shooting Alex a look. "But your reaction..."

"Means nothing," Lando insists, but his knuckles are white around his glass. "I just... I don't want her to rush into anything. As a friend. A protective friend. Who happens to be her brother's mate. And her future husband. But like, as a joke. Obviously."

"Obviously," Alex repeats dryly.

Suddenly, Charles straightens up. "Where did they go?"

The spot where you and Jacob were standing is empty. Lando's eyes scan the crowd, something uneasy settling in his stomach.

"Probably just getting more drinks," he says, but he's already standing up.

"Lando..." Alex starts.

"I just need some air," Lando cuts him off, making his way through the crowd.

The corridor leading to the outdoor area is quieter, the music muffled. That's when he hears raised voices.

"You're being ridiculous," Jacob's voice is sharp. "I was just talking to her."

"With your hand on her waist?" Your voice sounds tired. "While I was right there?"

"Oh, so I can't even network now? That's literally my job, YN. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that, since you're only here because of your brother."

Lando's feet move before his brain catches up.

"Everything alright out here?" His voice is deliberately light, but there's steel underneath.

"Fine," Jacob snaps. "Just having a private conversation with my girlfriend."

"Doesn't sound very private," Lando steps closer to you instinctively. "Or very pleasant."

"This doesn't concern you, Norris."

"See, that's where you're wrong, mate," Lando's usual playful demeanor is gone. "YN's wellbeing always concerns me. Future wife contract, remember? Legally binding and all that."

"We're still doing that joke?" Jacob scoffs. "Bit pathetic, don't you think?"

"Not as pathetic as hitting on sponsors' daughters while your girlfriend watches," Lando retorts, then softer, to you: "You okay, darling?"

The familiar pet name makes your chest tight. "I'm fine, Lando."

"Great, she's fine," Jacob moves to grab your arm. "Let's go."

"Touch her like that again," Lando's voice is deadly quiet, "and you'll be looking for a new marketing job. Might want to learn how the coffee machine works first though."

Jacob looks between you and Lando, jaw clenched. "Whatever. This is bullshit anyway. Call me when you're done playing happy families with your brother's friend."

He storms off, leaving you and Lando in charged silence.

"So," Lando finally says, attempting his usual lightness, "does this mean I can keep the dog name Fernando?"

You let out a watery laugh, and without thinking, he pulls you into a hug. You fit against him like you always have, his cologne familiar and comforting.

"My darling," he murmurs into your hair, then catches himself. "I mean... sorry. Probably shouldn't call you that anymore."

You pull back slightly to look at him. "You've been calling me that since we were teenagers."

"Yeah, well," he gives you a half-smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "things change, don't they?"

The way he's looking at you makes your heart stutter. Has he always looked at you like that?

"Is he always like this?" Lando asks quietly, still holding you close. His usual playful tone is gone, replaced by something more serious than you're used to hearing from him.

"No, no," you shake your head quickly. Maybe too quickly, because Lando's brow furrows as he studies your face. "It's not— he's not usually... it was just a misunderstanding."

He's silent for a moment, his hands fidgeting like they always do when he's worried about something. "You'd tell me though, right? If he ever... if he's not good to you? Or tell George at least?"

"Of course," you try to smile reassuringly. "But really, today was just a bad night. Too much pressure, too much champagne..."

"YN," he cuts in, and the way he says your name instead of one of his usual pet names makes you look up at him. His eyes are intense, concerned. "Promise me."

"I promise," you say softly. "You're a great friend, Lando."

Something flickers across his face – so quick you almost miss it – before his signature grin returns, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Friend?" he scoffs, but his voice sounds slightly strained. "Future husband, remember? Can't have my darling dealing with drama alone. Bad for our future marriage prospects."

You laugh, and he joins in, but there's something heavy hanging in the air between you. Before either of you can say anything else, Alex's voice carries from the doorway.

"Found them! Everything okay out here?"

"Never better," Lando announces, stepping back and throwing an arm around your shoulders with practiced ease. But you notice how his smile doesn't quite match the one in all those podium photos from earlier. "Just reminding the future Mrs. Norris about our very legitimate marriage contract. Very binding. Legally waterproof and everything."

He's doing that thing he does when he's uncomfortable – talking too fast, jokes tumbling out one after another. But his hand squeezes your shoulder gently before he lets go, and you catch him glancing back at you as he bounces toward the club entrance, his "Let's celebrate my amazing win, shall we?" almost drowning out the sound of your heart beating too fast.

Alex watches the exchange with knowing eyes but mercifully says nothing, just offers his arm to escort you back inside.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between george and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 287,540 others

yn.russell british boy steps foot in mexico city and instantly thinks he's a local... who's gonna tell him

view all comments

username1 LANDO X LITTLE RUSSELL IS SO BACKKK

username2 he looks so cuute

username3 i know her bf is not going to like this

alex_albon he can't even keep tequila shots down. such a fake

↳ landonorris want to test that theory?

↳ charles_leclerc Poor little Lando Norris

username4 HELP SHES SO IN LOVE WITH HIM 😭

jacob___ 👀

↳ username1 i know he's JEALOUS

username5 the way yn's feed is like 60% lando

username6 MY PARENTS

landonorris why is my future wife so mean to me

↳ yn.russell LANDO

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Later that afternoon, you're sitting with Carmen in the Mercedes hospitality when George joins you, stealing a bite of your sandwich.

"Get your own food," you swat his hand away.

"Sharing is caring, little sis," he grins, then notices your expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," you say automatically, but Carmen raises an eyebrow.

"She's overthinking," Carmen supplies helpfully. "About Jacob."

"I'm not overthinking," you protest. "I'm just... thinking. Normal amounts of thinking."

"About?" George prompts.

You fidget with your paddock pass. "He wants me to meet his parents. After Abu Dhabi. Says it's time we got more serious."

George's expression shifts slightly. "And you want that?"

"I mean... yeah? I think so. It makes sense, right? We've been together for a few months now, things are good..."

"Are they?" Carmen asks gently.

"Of course they are," you say, but your voice lacks conviction. "The Singapore thing was just a one-off. He apologized. He's been really sweet since then."

"Sweet enough to make up for being a dick?" George mutters.

"George."

"Sorry, sorry," he holds up his hands. "Just... you don't sound very excited about meeting his parents."

"I am excited," you insist. "It's just... a big step."

"Not as big as naming your future dog Fernando," Carmen says under her breath.

You shoot her a warning look. "Can we not?"

"Not what?" George asks.

"Nothing," you say quickly. "Just... Carmen thinks I'm not fully committed because..."

"Because you still light up every time Lando calls you 'darling'?" Carmen finishes.

"That's not— he calls everyone darling."

"No, he doesn't," George and Carmen say in unison.

"I hate you both," you groan. "Look, Lando and I are friends. That's all we've ever been. The whole future wife thing is just our running joke."

"Sure," Carmen nods. "That's why he looks like someone kicked his puppy every time Jacob touches you."

"He does not—" you start, but stop when you catch sight of Lando walking past. He gives you a small wave and his signature grin, but something about it seems off.

"Doesn't what?" George prompts.

"Nothing," you shake your head. "I should go. Jacob's waiting for me."

As you leave, you hear Carmen say to George, "They're both idiots, aren't they?"

"Complete idiots," George agrees. "But at least they're consistent about it."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 298,605 others

yn.russell happy birthday to my favorite “future husband” 🎂 from stealing your caps in karting to stealing your FIFA records (still undefeated btw), you've somehow become one of my favorite people in this weird little world of ours. here's to many more years of terrible jokes, impromptu dance parties in the garage, and you pretending to let me win at everything (we both know I'm just better 😌). love you loads landolorian 🤍

ps: fernando the nonexistent dog says happy birthday to his future dad x

view all comments

username1 THIS IS TOO CUTE

username2 YOUR HONOR IM CRYING

landonorris still waiting for that marriage certificate darling 💍 also you definitely cheated at FIFA last time

↳ yn.russell sounds like someone's a sore loser

↳ landonorris sounds like someone's avoiding the marriage topic

↳ georgerussell63 get a room you two

↳ landonorris working on it mate

↳ username1 LANDO WTF

↳ username2 HE HAS NO SHAME

mclaren Happy Birthday @/landonorris! @/yn.russell when's the wedding?

↳ landonorris asking the real questions admin

↳ oscarpiastri I'll officiate

↳ landonorris DEAL

↳ yn.russell STOP IT

jacob___ 🙄

↳ landonorris problem mate?

↳ yn.russell boys.

↳ username3 THE TENSION

username4 why aren't they together yet??

username5 my heart can't take this anymore just date already

liked by username1, username2 and 3,976 others

f1.gossip Lando Norris and YN Russell spotted getting cozy at his birthday celebration last night. Swipe for more 👀

view all comments

username1 "just friends" my ass

username2 no because why does he look at her like she hung the stars

username3 wait where's jacob? 👀

↳ username1 apparently he left early...

↳ username2 he posted from a different party later that night

username4 george watching his best friend and his sister like 🧍‍♂️

↳ username1 he's been watching this slow burn for years poor man

username5 jacob watching these photos like 👁👄👁

username6 the way lando calls her darling more than her actual boyfriend does

username7 who's gonna tell jacob his girlfriend has better chemistry with lando in these photos than their entire instagram feed

username8 the "future wife" jokes don't seem so jokey anymore huh

username9 okay but can we talk about how she literally glows when she's around him?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The afternoon sun filters through your apartment windows as you put the finishing touches on your makeup. You're going out to dinner with Jacob - another fancy restaurant, another chance for him to network while you smile politely beside him.

A knock at your door makes you pause. Opening it reveals Lando, holding a bag of takeaway and what appears to be your favorite ice cream.

"Oh," he says, taking in your dress and heels. "You're going out."

"Yeah," you adjust your earring, but can't help smiling at the familiar sight of him with food. "With Jacob. Remember?"

"Right," his smile dims slightly. "The boyfriend. Must've slipped my mind." He holds up the bags. "I brought provisions for our traditional post-race debrief. You know, where you tell me how amazing I was and I pretend to be humble about it?"

You laugh despite yourself. "Since when are you ever humble?"

"I'm incredibly humble. The most humble. No one's more humble than me," he grins, then peers around you into the apartment. "But seriously, can't you reschedule? I got your favorite ice cream. Mint chocolate chip, because I'm the best future husband ever."

"Still going with that, are we?" you ask, turning back to the mirror to check your lipstick.

"Always, darling," he follows you in, setting the food down and flopping onto your couch like he owns it. "It's legally binding, remember? Can't disappoint my mum now."

"I can't tonight," you say, checking your phone. "Jacob said he has something important to tell me."

"The one who made you cry?" Lando's voice loses some of its playfulness.

"That was one time," you defend, though without heat. "And he apologized. He actually told me he loves me last week. Says he wants us to be serious."

Lando sits up straighter, his usual energetic demeanor momentarily stilled. "And do you? Love him?"

"You don't know anything about my relationship, Lando," you say, but it comes out softer than intended.

"I know you," he counters, standing up and moving to lean against the wall near your mirror. "I know you scrunch your nose when you're trying not to laugh at bad jokes. I know you secretly love those terrible reality shows but pretend you're 'just watching them ironically.' I know you stress-eat ice cream when George has a bad race."

"That's different," you say, but you're fighting a smile.

"Is it?" he challenges, but his tone is gentle. "Look, I just... I want you to be happy. Even if it means dealing with boring Jacob who still can't work the coffee machine."

"He figured it out last week, actually," you laugh.

"Finally! Only took him what, six months?" Lando grins, then sobers slightly. "But seriously, if he makes you happy..."

"He does," you say, though something in your chest tightens. "Most of the time."

"Most of the time?" Lando raises an eyebrow. "That's not exactly a ringing endorsement, darling."

"Nobody's perfect."

"I am," he says immediately, making you laugh. "What? I'm just saying, our future children would have excellent genes. Plus, I make a mean cup of coffee."

Your phone buzzes - a text from Jacob asking where you are.

"I have to go," you say, grabbing your purse. "Lock up when you leave?"

"Fine," he sighs dramatically. "Abandon your future husband with melting ice cream. But just know, Fernando the dog is very disappointed in you."

"Still haven't given up on that name, huh?"

"Never," he grins, but something flickers in his eyes. "Save me some time this weekend? For proper FIFA revenge?"

"You mean so I can beat you again?"

"Excuse you, I let you win," he protests, following you to the door. "It's part of my long-term strategy."

"Which is?"

"Can't have my future wife thinking I'm bad at something, can I?" he winks. "Even though we both know I'm actually terrible at FIFA."

You shake your head, laughing. "Goodbye, Lando."

"Wait," he calls as you start down the hall. "Just... be happy, yeah? Even if it's with someone who took six months to learn how to make coffee."

"I am happy," you say, but even to your own ears, it sounds more like a question than a statement.

"If you say so, darling," he says quietly. "But just remember, the Fernando name reservation is still valid. You know, in case the coffee-challenged boyfriend doesn't work out."

You roll your eyes but can't help smiling as you walk away, trying to ignore the way your heart seems to be arguing with your head about exactly what - or who - makes you happiest. Behind you, you can hear him humming what sounds suspiciously like the wedding march, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

Because at the end of the day, he's still Lando. Your Lando. Even if you're not quite ready to admit what that really means.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 276,498 others

yn.russell last dinner date before heading back to the circus 🏎️ @/jacob___

view all comments

username1 ewww

username2 cute couple tbh

jacob___ miss you already x

↳ yn.russell ❤️

landonorris see you in las vegas darling x

↳ jacob___ can you not?

↳ landonorris sorry mate, contractual future wife obligations

↳ yn_russell boys. please.

↳ georgerussell63 🍿

↳ carlossainz55 Share some with me

↳ username1 LORD

↳ username2 THIS IS SO MESSYYYYY

username3 THIS COMMENT SECTION HAS ME IN TEARSSSS

username4 i feel like shit is about to hit the fan reaaaally soon

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"I just don't understand why you have to be there for every single race," Jacob's voice carries down the paddock corridor. "It's not like you're actually part of the team."

You're standing outside the McLaren hospitality, what started as a casual conversation having turned into yet another argument. "My brother races in F1, and Lando's one of my closest friends. Of course I'm going to be here."

"Right, Lando," Jacob scoffs. "Because God forbid you miss one of his races. Wouldn't want to disappoint your 'future husband.'"

"Don't do that," you say tiredly. "You know it's just a joke."

"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you'd rather spend time with him than support your actual boyfriend's career."

"Your career? I've been to every single marketing event you've asked me to attend. I've smiled and networked and played the perfect girlfriend."

"Perfect?" He laughs humorlessly. "You barely talk to any of the sponsors. You're too busy hanging out in the Mercedes garage or watching Lando's practice sessions."

"That's not fair—"

"You know what's not fair? Having a girlfriend who's more invested in other people's careers than mine."

"I didn't realize I was supposed to give up my entire life just because we're dating."

"Your entire life?" His voice rises. "You mean hanging around the paddock like some glorified fan?"

You step back like he's slapped you. "Is that what you think I am?"

"I think," he says coldly, "that you need to figure out what's more important - playing happy families with your brother's friends or having a real relationship with someone who's actually going somewhere in life."

"Hey!" A sharp voice cuts through the tension. George is standing there, face thunderous. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Just having a private conversation with my girlfriend," Jacob says stiffly.

"Doesn't sound very private to me," George steps closer, positioning himself slightly in front of you. "Or very respectful."

"George, it's fine," you start, but he cuts you off.

"No, it's not fine," he says, not taking his eyes off Jacob. "No one talks to my sister like that."

Jacob holds up his hands. "Look, this is between me and YN."

"Not anymore it's not," George's voice is dangerously calm. "I think you should leave."

For a moment, it looks like Jacob might argue, but something in George's expression makes him think better of it. "Whatever. Call me when you're ready to be a proper girlfriend."

As he walks away, George turns to you, his anger melting into concern. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," you say automatically, but your voice wavers.

"Come on," he wraps an arm around your shoulders, leading you toward his driver room. "Let's talk."

Once inside, you sink onto the couch while George grabs two water bottles. "How long has he been talking to you like that?"

"It's not... it's not usually that bad," you say, fidgeting with the bottle label. "He's just stressed about work."

"That's not an excuse," George sits beside you. "Has he said things like this before? About you being just a fan?"

You stay quiet, which is answer enough.

"YN," George's voice softens. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's embarrassing," you admit quietly. "He's right, isn't he? I am just hanging around because of you."

"Stop," George says firmly. "You've been part of this world since we were kids. You understand racing better than half the people in the paddock. Hell, you probably know more about tire strategies than some of the engineers."

You manage a small laugh. "Only because you never shut up about them."

"Exactly," he grins, then turns serious again. "Look, being here isn't just about me. It's your life too. You've built relationships with everyone here. Carmen loves you, Alex considers you a little sister, and Lando..."

"Don't," you cut him off. "Please don't bring Lando into this."

George studies you for a moment. "Why not? He's your best friend."

"Because..." you trail off, not sure how to explain the complicated mix of emotions that surface whenever Lando's name comes up lately.

"Because Jacob's jealous of him?" George suggests gently.

"He's not... it's not like that."

"Isn't it?" George raises an eyebrow. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like your boyfriend has a problem with how close you are to someone who's been in your life a lot longer than he has."

"Lando and I are just friends," you say, but the words feel hollow.

"Are you?" George asks softly. "Because friends don't look at each other the way you two do. Friends don't have elaborate future plans including dogs named Fernando. Friends don't get that look in their eyes when the other person is dating someone else."

"George..."

"I'm just saying," he continues, "maybe Jacob isn't entirely wrong to be jealous. Just... wrong about everything else."

You're quiet for a moment, processing. "I don't know what to do."

"Yes, you do," George says simply. "You just need to be honest with yourself about what - or who - actually makes you happy."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?" He challenges. "Because from what I just heard, Jacob doesn't make you happy. He makes you feel small. And my little sister," he squeezes your shoulder, "deserves someone who makes her feel like she could take on the world."

"Someone like Lando?" You ask quietly.

"I didn't say that," George grins. "But now that you mention it..."

You shove him playfully. "Shut up."

"Make me," he laughs, then sobers. "Seriously though, YN. You deserve better than someone who makes you question your place here. This is your home too."

You lean your head on his shoulder. "When did you get so wise?"

"I've always been wise. I'm the older sibling, remember?"

"By like two years!"

"Still counts," he says smugly, then adds more seriously, "Just... promise me you'll think about what I said? About being honest with yourself?"

"I promise," you say softly, even as your mind drifts to a certain curly-haired driver who's probably wondering where you are for your traditional pre-race FIFA tournament.

"Good," George stands up. "Now, want to go watch Lando absolutely butcher his quali prep? I heard he's still convinced he can take turn 3 flat out."

You laugh, letting him pull you up. "Some things never change, do they?"

"Nope," George agrees, but there's something knowing in his smile. "And some things are just waiting for you to realize they've been there all along."

As you walk toward the McLaren garage, you can't help but think about how some of the best things in life start as jokes - like a fourteen-year-old boy declaring you'll have papaya orange wedding colors, or a nickname that feels more like home than any other word in the world.

Maybe it's time to stop pretending it's all just a joke.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by georgerussell63, carmenmmundt and 301,988 others

yn.russell my big brother just won in VEGAS!!! 🏆✨ from watching you race karts in the rain to watching you stand on top of the podium under those lights... i've never been prouder to be a russell. you deserve this more than anyone georgie. also thanks for letting me steal your champagne and ruin your hair before the photos 😘

ps: mum's crying, dad's crying, i'm crying, even fernando the dog is crying and he's not real x

view all comments

username1 I LOVE THEM SMMMM

username2 THIS IS MY FAMILY

georgerussell63 love you little sis ❤️ (but i was definitely the cuter kid)

↳ yn_russell keep telling yourself that x

↳ landonorris can confirm yn was the cuter kid

↳ georgerussell63 no one asked you lando

↳ landonorris just supporting my future wife mate

↳ yn.russell boys please this is george's moment

username2 THE WAY SHE RAN TO HIM IN PARC FERME 😭

username3 sibling goals fr

username4 ok but can we talk about how lando waited to celebrate with george until after yn had her moment with him 🥺

↳ username1 future brother in law behavior

username5 wait why isn't jacob in any of these photos? Wasn't he there?

carmenmmundt so proud of you both ❤️

↳ landonorris *all three of us

↳ carmenmmundt ?

↳ landonorris future wife = future family

↳ yn.russell this is GEORGE'S post omg

↳ landonorris sorry darling carry on x

charles_leclerc the russell genes are strong

↳ landonorris hopefully our kids get her genes

↳ georgerussell63 LANDO.

↳ yn.russell i swear to god

↳ landonorris what? just planning ahead 😌

username6 THIS COMMENT SECTION IS KILLING ME

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yn.russell has added to their stories

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Abu Dhabi night is alive with celebration, the McLaren garage covered in papaya and champagne. But you're hidden away in one of the quiet corridors behind hospitality, mascara smudged, trying to muffle your sobs.

"There you are, darling! We've been looking everywhere for—" Lando's voice cuts off abruptly when he sees you. "YN?"

You quickly try to wipe your tears, but it's too late. His championship-winning smile vanishes instantly as he drops down beside you.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" His voice is soft, concerned. When you don't answer, he gently takes your hands away from your face. "Talk to me."

"It's stupid," you manage to say. "You should be celebrating. You just won the constructors'."

"Pretty sure the champagne will still be there in ten minutes," he says, thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. "What happened?"

You take a shaky breath. "Jacob... he..." Your voice breaks.

Lando's expression hardens. "What did he do?"

"He broke up with me," you let out a bitter laugh. "Apparently now that he's secured a position at Mercedes for next season, he doesn't need the Russell connection anymore."

"He what?" Lando's voice is dangerously quiet.

"Turns out I was just... convenient. A way to get closer to Toto. To Mercedes." Your voice cracks again. "God, I feel so stupid."

"You're not stupid," Lando says fiercely. "He's the stupid one. He's worse than stupid, he's a complete—"

"I really thought..." you cut him off, fresh tears falling. "I actually thought he cared about me."

Without hesitation, Lando pulls you into his arms. You bury your face in his race suit, still damp with champagne, and let yourself break.

"I've got you," he murmurs into your hair. "I've got you, darling."

You stay like that for a while, his hands running soothingly up and down your back as you cry. The distant sounds of celebration feel like they're from another world.

"Want me to crash his car?" Lando finally asks, making you let out a watery laugh. "I could do it. Make it look like an accident. I am a professional driver, after all."

"Lando..."

"Or we could put laxatives in his coffee. Though he'd probably notice, since he still can't make a proper cup himself."

Despite everything, you find yourself smiling slightly.

"There's my girl," he says softly, then catches himself. "I mean... sorry. Probably shouldn't..."

"It's okay," you whisper. "I've always been your girl. Even if it was just as a joke."

Something shifts in his expression. "YN..."

"Don't," you pull back slightly. "Please. I can't... I can't lose you too. Not tonight."

He studies your face for a long moment, then nods, pulling you back against his chest. "You'll never lose me. Future husband contract, remember? Legally binding. Can't get rid of me that easily."

You close your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. "Promise?"

"Promise," he kisses the top of your head. "Besides, Fernando still needs both his parents."

This gets a real laugh out of you. "We don't actually have a dog, Lando."

"Yet," he corrects. "We don't have a dog yet. But when we do—"

"His name will be Fernando," you finish with him, and for a moment, everything feels okay again.

"Want me to get George?" he asks after a while.

You shake your head. "Not yet. Can we just... stay here for a bit?"

"As long as you need," he says, and you can hear his heart beating steadily under your ear. "I'm not going anywhere."

In the distance, someone calls his name.

"Go," you start to pull away. "They need their champion."

"They can wait," he says firmly, pulling you back. "You need me more."

And maybe it's the way he says it, or the gentle kiss he presses to your temple, or how his arms feel like the safest place in the world, but suddenly you realize what everyone's been trying to tell you all along.

This was never just a joke to him.

And maybe, just maybe, it was never really a joke to you either.

But that's a revelation for another night, when your heart isn't quite so broken and his race suit isn't covered in your tears. For now, you let yourself be held by your best friend, your future husband, your Lando, as the Abu Dhabi night carries on without you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 288,760 others

yn.russell back to my favorite job: professional thirdwheel 🏖️ (at least they feed me occasionally) @/georgerussell63 @/carmenmmundt

view all comments

username1 MY PARENTS

username2 wait... where's jacob? 👀

↳ username1 he unfollowed her last week 👀

↳ username3 tea incoming

georgerussell63 You love us

↳ yn.russell debatable

↳ carmenmmund We literally paid for your dinner

↳ yn.russell okay fine you're alright

landonorris need a fourth wheel? 👀

↳ yn.russell ...

↳ landonorris i'll bring snacks

username4 THE WAY LANDO COMMENTED SO FAST

username5 LANDO THIS IS YOUR CHANCE

username6 single little russell era is coming

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The winter sun is setting early, casting long shadows across your apartment. It's been a month days since Abu Dhabi, a months since Jacob revealed his true colors, and you're curled up on your couch in your comfiest sweats, surrounded by empty ice cream containers.

George and Carmen tried to cheer you up, making you tag along on their vacation, but now that you were back home, the sulking feeling inevitably came back too.

A familiar pattern of knocks at your door makes you groan. "Go away, Lando."

"Not a chance, darling," his voice calls back. "I come bearing provisions!"

"I don't need provisions," you call out, but you're already getting up to open the door. "I need to wallow in peace."

You open the door to find Lando, arms full of bags, wearing a ridiculously oversized hoodie that you're pretty sure belongs to George.

"Wallowing is officially cancelled," he announces, breezing past you into the apartment. "We're having a proper heartbreak recovery session."

"We are?"

"Absolutely," he starts unpacking the bags. "I've got all the essentials. More ice cream - mint chocolate chip, obviously. Every terrible rom-com Netflix has to offer. Popcorn. Those weird crisps you like that no one else understands. And..." he pulls out a bottle with flourish, "your favorite wine."

"Lando..."

"No arguments," he says firmly, but gently. "I'm not leaving you alone to cry over that coffee-challenged idiot."

"I wasn't crying," you protest weakly.

He raises an eyebrow at your clearly tear-stained face. "Right. And I'm not the most talented driver on the grid."

This actually makes you laugh. "Your modesty never fails to amaze me."

"I know, I know, I'm incredible," he grins, already making himself at home on your couch. "Now come here. We're starting with The Notebook because I know it's your guilty pleasure, even though you pretend to hate it."

"I do hate it," you say, but you're already curling up next to him.

"Sure you do, darling," he throws a blanket over both of you. "Just like you hate reality TV and actually love Jacob's boring marketing presentations."

You wince slightly at Jacob's name, and Lando immediately softens.

"Sorry," he says quietly. "No more mentions of He Who Shall Not Be Named. Though I still think we should put glitter in his car ventilation system."

"George already offered to have him banned from the paddock," you smile slightly.

"Good man, your brother," Lando nods approvingly. "Though my revenge plans are much more creative. I was thinking we could reprogram his laptop to only play 'Baby Shark' when he opens PowerPoint..."

You can't help but laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"Made you smile though, didn't I?" he says softly, and something in his voice makes you look up at him.

"You always do," you admit quietly.

He holds your gaze for a moment before clearing his throat. "Right, well, that's what future husbands are for, isn't it? Can't have my darling being sad. Bad for our wedding photos."

"Still going with that, are we?"

"Always," he says, and despite his light tone, there's something earnest in his eyes. "Someone's got to look after you properly."

"I can look after myself," you point out.

"Oh, I know," he grins. "But it's more fun together, isn't it? Plus, who else is going to appreciate your terrible taste in movies?"

"My taste is not terrible!"

"Darling, you genuinely enjoyed that film about the talking cats."

"It was artistic!"

"It was horrifying," he laughs, pulling you closer. "But I watched it three times with you anyway."

"Because you're a good friend," you say softly.

Something flickers across his face. "Yeah," he says after a moment. "The best friend you'll ever have. Even if you have questionable taste in everything except future husbands."

You roll your eyes but can't help smiling. "Speaking of questionable taste, weren't we supposed to be watching The Notebook?"

"Oh right!" he brightens, grabbing the remote. "Time to pretend you're not going to cry at the end."

"I never cry at the end."

"Darling, you've cried every single time we've watched it."

"Have not!"

"Have too! Remember last time? You got tears all over my favorite hoodie."

"That was one time!"

"One time this month, maybe," he grins, then softens. "It's okay though. My hoodies are always available for your tears. Even if they're about stupid coffee-challenged marketing guys who don't deserve them."

You lean your head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Lando."

"For what?"

"For being you. For being here. For..." you gesture at all the supplies he brought. "For everything."

He's quiet for a moment, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Always, darling. In sickness and in health, remember?"

"We're not actually married, Lando."

"Yet," he corrects, but there's something in his voice that makes your heart skip. "We're not actually married yet."

The movie starts playing, but you're more aware of his steady breathing, of how perfectly you fit against his side, of how safe you feel in this moment. And maybe it's too soon, maybe your heart is still too raw, but you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the right person has been here all along.

But that's a thought for another day. For now, you let yourself be comforted by your best friend, your constant, your Lando, as he quotes along with the movie and keeps you supplied with ice cream and terrible jokes until you're laughing more than you're crying.

And if you do end up crying at the end of The Notebook, well, his hoodie is already there to catch your tears.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 291,483 others

yn.russell FIRST RACE OF THE SEASON. WHAT A RIDE !!!! lando winning and georgie on podium. ALEX P5 !!!! all of my boys killing it 🥺 so happy to be back, i missed this so much

view all comments

username1 LITTLE RUSSELL BIGGEST SUPPORTER

username2 SHE WAS SO HAPPY FOR LANDO OMFG

username3 still gutted for the missed mclaren 1-2 but GEORGE P3!!

carmenmmundt You almost broke my hand with all the squeezing !! Missed you so happy my girl 🤍

↳ username1 AHH LITTLE RUSSELL IS HEALING

username4 the way she JUMPED into lando's arms

ciscanorris My future daughter in law! It was so good to see you

↳ username1 AHH MAMA NORRIS CLAIMING HER

landonorris THAT WAS FOR YOU MY DARLINGGG

↳ yourinstagram 🥺

↳ username2 AHH SHE DIDN'T CORRECT HIM

georgerussell63 Love you sis, even tho you hugged Lando first

↳ yn.russell he won okay

↳ landonorris and i'm her future husband

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Miami night air is warm and sweet, carrying the distant sounds of celebration from the post race party below. You're leaning against the balcony railing, watching the lights of the circuit sparkle in the distance, when familiar footsteps approach.

"There's my darling," Lando's voice is soft as he joins you. "Hiding from your adoring public?"

You smile, not looking away from the view. "Just needed some air."

The past few months flash through your mind - Lando showing up at your door with takeaway after particularly hard days, marathon gaming sessions that somehow always ended with you falling asleep on his shoulder, countless movie nights where he'd quote every line just to make you laugh. He never let you wallow, never let you retreat into sadness. Whether it was surprising you with your favorite coffee in the morning or sending you ridiculous memes at 3 AM, he was constantly there, slowly piecing your heart back together without you even realizing it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks, bumping your shoulder gently with his.

"Just thinking about everything that's changed since last season."

He hums in agreement. "Good changes though, right?"

You finally turn to look at him, really look at him. His curls slightly messy from running his hands through them - a nervous habit you've known since you were teenagers. But there's something different in the way he's looking at you now, something that makes your heart skip.

"Yeah," you say softly. "Good changes."

He takes a step closer, and suddenly the air feels charged with possibility. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"Dangerous hobby," you tease, falling into your familiar pattern.

"Very dangerous," he agrees, but his voice is serious. "Been thinking about how sometimes the best things in life start as jokes."

Your breath catches. "Lando..."

"Like when a fourteen-year-old boy tells this pretty girl she's going to be his future wife," he continues, taking another step closer. "And he keeps saying it for years, making it this big running joke, because it's easier than admitting that maybe, just maybe, it was never really a joke at all."

"What are you saying?" you whisper, though your heart already knows the answer.

He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek. "I'm saying that I've been in love with you since we were kids. I'm saying that every time I called you darling, every time I talked about our future dog Fernando, every time I claimed the future husband title - I meant it. All of it."

"Lando..." your voice wavers.

"I know it's only been a few months since... everything," he says quickly. "And if you're not ready, if you don't feel the same way, we can pretend this never happened. We can go back to just joking around. But I needed you to know that for me, it was never just a joke. You were never just a joke."

You stare at him, this boy who's been your constant, your safe place, your home for so long. And suddenly everything clicks into place.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he says softly, giving you time to pull away if you want to.

You don't.

His lips meet yours, gentle at first, like he's afraid you might break. But when your hands slide into his curls, pulling him closer, the kiss deepens into something that feels like coming home and falling free all at once.

When you finally break apart, he rests his forehead against yours. "So," he says, slightly breathless, "about that legally binding marriage contract..."

You laugh, the sound full of joy. "Still going with that, are we?"

"Always," he grins, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. "Though now I'm thinking maybe we should make it official. You know, for Fernando's sake."

"We still don't have a dog, Lando."

"Yet," he corrects, pulling you closer. "We don't have a dog yet. But we will. Right after the wedding. Which will definitely have papaya orange colors because I called dibs when we were fourteen and—"

You cut him off with another kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.

"FINALLY!"

You break apart to find George standing in the doorway, grinning like he just won the championship.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Lando grumbles, but he doesn't let go of you.

"On a balcony door?" George raises an eyebrow. "Besides, I've been watching you two dance around each other for months. Years, actually."

"Have not," you protest.

"Have too," both men say in unison.

"I hate you both," you mutter, but you're fighting a smile.

"No you don't," Lando says confidently. "You love me. You're going to marry me and we're going to have a dog named Fernando and—"

"Still with the dog name?" George groans.

"It's tradition!" Lando defends. "Tell him, darling, tell him how important traditions are."

You look between your brother and the boy - no, the man - who's been your everything for so long, and feel your heart might burst with happiness.

"Actually," you say slowly, "I was thinking maybe we could name the dog George."

"What?" both men exclaim.

You burst out laughing at their expressions. "Just kidding. Fernando it is."

"See?" Lando beams at George. "She agrees with me. Because she loves me. Because we're getting married. Because—"

"Because it was never really a joke?" you finish softly.

His expression softens as he looks at you. "Never."

"Right," George clears his throat. "I'm going to leave before this gets any more sickeningly sweet. But Lando?"

"Yeah?"

"Hurt my sister and they'll never find your body."

"Please," Lando scoffs, pulling you closer. "I've been planning our future since I was fourteen. I'm not about to mess it up now."

As George leaves, shaking his head but smiling, Lando turns back to you.

"So," he says, his eyes twinkling, "about those wedding colors..."

You silence him with another kiss, thinking about how sometimes the best love stories start as jokes, and how sometimes the person you're meant to be with has been there all along, calling you darling and planning your future with a dog named Fernando.

And maybe, just maybe, those papaya orange wedding colors don't sound so bad after all.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 201,384 others

yn.russell turns out some jokes become reality 🧡 @/landonorris (yes, we're actually getting the dog. yes, his name will be fernando. no, this isn't a drill - the future wife position has officially been filled, i love you my lando)

view all comments

username1 SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP IS THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENING??? 😭😭😭

username2 THE WAY I JUST SCREAMED IN THE MIDDLE OF STARBUCKS

username3 THE FUTURE WIFE JOKES WERE REAL ALL ALONG

georgerussell63 About bloody time 🙄 (but actually very happy for you both)

alex_albon the group chat can finally rest, no more "should I tell her?" messages from lando every 5 minutes

carmenmmundt The paddock's favorite love story

ciscanorris Finally! I've only been waiting for this announcement since they were teenagers 🥰

username4 the way this man has been calling her darling for YEARS and we all thought it was just banter 😭😭

username5 THE WAY I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SINCE 2019

username6 ok but can we talk about how he's literally been manifesting this since they were TEENAGERS???

username7 this is actually the cutest thing ever like???? he's been planning their wedding since he was 14???? hello???

username8 the way george is probably somewhere being like "finally i don't have to pretend i don't see them flirting"

landonorris worth the wait, every single second❤️ love you darling x

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon in late summer, and you're curled up on your couch with a book when you hear Lando's key in the door. You smile, not looking up - he's been coming and going from your place so much lately that it feels more like his home than his own apartment.

"Darling!" his voice calls out, sounding suspiciously excited. "Close your eyes!"

"Why?" you ask warily. "Last time you had a surprise, it didn't end well."

"Just trust me!"

You sigh fondly, closing your eyes. "Fine, but this better be good."

You hear him moving around, and then something warm and furry lands in your lap.

Your eyes fly open to find yourself face to face with the most adorable chocolate Labrador puppy you've ever seen. The puppy immediately starts licking your face while Lando watches, beaming with pure joy.

"Lando..." you breathe, already in love with the wiggling bundle of fur. "What did you do?"

"Well," he drops onto the couch beside you, reaching over to scratch the puppy's ears, "I was thinking about how we've been together for months now, and living together basically even though we pretend we don't, and how there's this one very important member of our family still missing..."

"You didn't," you whisper, even as the puppy settles contentedly in your lap.

"I did," he grins. "Meet Fernando. Finally."

You look between Lando and the puppy - Fernando - feeling your heart might burst. "You actually named him Fernando?"

"Of course I did! I've been planning this since I was fourteen, remember?" His eyes soften. "Plus, I made you a promise, didn't I?"

"We're not married yet," you point out, but you can't stop smiling.

"Yet," he emphasizes, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "But really, I thought... I mean, we practically live together anyway. Might as well make it official. You, me, and Fernando."

You look down at the puppy, who's now snoring softly in your lap, then back at Lando. "Are you asking me to move in with you? Properly?"

"Maybe," he fidgets slightly. "Unless you think it's too soon? I know we haven't been together that long, but it feels like we've been building towards this forever, you know? And I thought, with Fernando here now..."

You cut off his rambling with a kiss. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I'll move in with you. Properly. All three of us."

His face lights up like you've just given him the best gift in the world. "Really?"

"Really," you laugh.

"You're ridiculous," you tell him fondly.

"You love it," he says confidently.

"I do," you admit softly. "I love you."

His expression melts into that soft look he reserves just for you. "I love you too, darling. Both of you," he adds as Fernando stirs and licks his hand.

Just then, your phone buzzes - a text from George.

"Oh no," you groan, reading it. "George is coming over."

"Perfect!" Lando brightens. "He can meet his nephew!"

"You did not just call our dog George's nephew."

"Of course I did! He's family now. Speaking of which..." he pulls out his phone, "my mum's been asking when we're bringing Fernando to visit."

Before you can respond, George's voice carries through the door. "Why is there puppy food in the hallway?"

Lando jumps up excitedly. "Ready to meet Uncle George, Fernando?"

The puppy perks up at his name, tail wagging as George opens the door.

"You didn't," George says, taking in the scene.

"We did!" Lando announces proudly. "Meet your nephew!"

"My... nephew?"

"Fernando Russell-Norris," Lando declares. "Well, technically just Norris for now, but that'll change once your sister finally agrees to marry me."

"Still waiting on that proposal, aren't you?" George smirks.

"All in good time," Lando winks at you. "Got to do it properly, haven't I?"

You watch George pretend not to be completely smitten with Fernando, while Lando chatters about all his plans for family weekends and teaching Fernando tricks. You can't help but think about how sometimes the best things in life start as jokes about future marriages and dogs named Fernando.

"Our little family," Lando says softly, pulling you close while Fernando attempts to climb into George's lap.

And as you lean into his side, watching your brother and your boyfriend argue about who gets to be Fernando's favorite uncle (while the puppy seems more interested in chewing George's shoelaces), you realize that this - this moment, this love, this little family - is better than any dream you could have had.

It's your reality. Your perfect, slightly chaotic, absolutely wonderful reality.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[monstersholygrail]

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper who’s been in the game for a long time. He’s used to the stares and the wandering touches of his clients. Every situation you can possibly think of is one he’s been through. It’s why he’s the best, after all. Known mostly for his ethereal grace, otherworldly beauty, and the charm he gives off with ease whenever on the stage.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper has clients who come to him from all over the world, offering more money than one can ever dream of. And he takes it without any regret. Though he never feels anything for them. He doesn’t feel much these days, in fact. Having grown bored and exhausted by the business. Until he meets you.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper is immediately interested in you as you walk into the gentleman club, an innocent thing as you opt to be a waitress instead of dancer. Thinking that’ll stop customers from grabbing at what they think belongs to them.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper is suddenly overcome with a pierce protectiveness as you prance over to him and introduce yourself. Your wide naive smile and pretty doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly. He wants to shield you from the darkness of this business, to keep that adorable innocence on your face.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper quickly builds a deep bond with you that turns into something more. The others in the club eye you with envy and curiosity, having no idea why the most famous stripper in the city has taken such an interest in you.

He couldn’t explain it even if they thought to ask. He was drawn to you, craved your presence and the kindness you showed him in every interaction. The need for it only got worse the longer you were around.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper began feeling you up more than any of the customers ever dared to. Whenever you got within reach his tentacles were already spreading out and dragging you against his broad chest. His tentacle arms caressed your plush body and latched on, ensuring you couldn’t escape while others slid into places they definitely shouldn’t be.

But they just couldn’t help but seek out your warmth as they dipped into your cute shorts to tease your hot dripping cunt or slid up your shirt to tease at your hard nipples.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper would watch you when he couldn’t be touching you. Even as he worked and danced gracefully in the tank he did his performances in, when he was meant to be seducing the audience, all he could do was watch you.

And if someone’s touch lingered a little too long or a bit too far, he’d stop the show immediately to go drag you away backstage, claiming he needed your help when really he just needed to replace their touch with his. And he wasn’t satisfied until he had you riding his cock, forcing orgasm after orgasm from you both. Only when your scent was completely mixed with his own could he manage to let you go back out there.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper has been devoid of emotion for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle the feral jealousy raging inside of him at the sight of you flirting with a customer. The electricity buzzing inside of him crackles, threatening everyone around him. Everyone except you.

He pawns off the customer on another dancer and corners you against the wall, asking you what you think you’re doing. You tell him you’re only flirting for extra tips and he scoffs. “You don’t need tips, you don’t need money. Everything I have is all yours, everything I am is only yours.”

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper who’s actually considering retirement. Now that he finally has something to live for all he wants to do is spend his days fucking you for pleasure instead of doing it for business. He wants to have all the time in the world to fill you with his tentacles, sending teasing jolts of electricity through your body till you’re gushing out your release all over his satin sheets.

And in the rare moments he doesn’t plan on stuffing you full and fucking you dumb on his cock, he plans to simply enjoy your presence. His only goal now is to experience all the mundane moments of life right by your side.

[clockwayswrites]

Like a damn bird of paradise Part 40

masterpost (pls no editing or concrit, I'm full of steroids)

“Well, you’re not my drafting paper,” Danny said with a little smile as he learned against the door frame of his apartment. The collar of his well worn sweater slipped down his shoulder, making him look wonderfully relaxed.

Bruce cleared his throat and help up the takeout bag. “Just a lunch offer, I’m afraid.”

“Lucky for you I’m starving, both for food and company,” Danny said. He stepped back and let Bruce enter. “I didn’t realize how much I would miss being in my office. There are dozens of little interactions I have every day that I don’t get while I’m locked away here like Rapunzel in her tower.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think you have the hair for Rapunzel,” Bruce pointed out as he made his way to the table to set down the food.

Danny laughed and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the locks. “No? Not here to be my prince in well tailored armor then?”

Bruce stepped forward to straight them back out. His hand drifted down to Danny’s cheek and he ran his thumb across the faint scattering of freckles. “If it’s a rescue you want, you only have to say the word. Or even just a vacation. My kids are always trying to get me to take one. I could ensure complete discretion somewhere private.”

“I just got home a few days ago,” Danny pointed out.

“That’s not a no,” Bruce replied.

“It’s not a no,” Danny said with a small, amused smile. He leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Bruce’s lips and then too quickly pulled away. “What did you bring for lunch?”

“There’s an good Algerian place near enough to work, I stopped there on the way,” Bruce said as he made himself break apart and move over to the bag of food. “I got a selection of things.”

“Oh, I’ve never had Algerian before, I don’t think, that sounds great,” Danny said. He went to his kitchen, which was small but felt bigger due to the open layout. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got ice tea, ginger ale, and milk. I’ve also teas and coffee I could make up quick enough.”

“Ice tea is fine if it’s not too sweet, otherwise a ginger ale,” Bruce answered as he methodically set out the take out containers.

“I’m not southern enough for sweet tea,” Danny said with a soft chuckle.

“Where are you from originally?” Bruce asked. He had gamely resisted looking Danny up. He was trying to do this the right way. Besides, anything concerning Lucius would have found before even starting to consider introducing Danny to the Bats as an engineer.

“Ohio. I was in Chicago for undergrad, SoCal for grad, and MIT for my doctorate, and Austin for my first job, so I’ve made the rounds,” Danny said. He set two glasses of tea down on the table, followed by two plates, some napkins, and silverware.

“And now Gotham, of all places,” Bruce said as he pulled out a chair for Danny.

Danny gave another soft laugh, but took the offered chair and let Bruce push it in for him. “Not of all places, WE was always my end game. Well, my end game as soon as I got myself back on track. High school was rough with the accident and it took me awhile to get things back together. I had to start at a community college.”

“Hardly anything wrong with that,” Bruce assured Danny. “You’ve gotten far further with your education than I ever did.”

“Do you ever regret it?” Danny asked as he poked curiously at one of the dishes.

“Sometimes,” Bruce said honestly. “But I think being a doctor would have been horrible for my mental health. I’ve never been good at accepting that I can save everyone. I still can’t, but at least leading WE I can help a lot more people at once, even if that is hugely thanks to the efforts of everyone else.”

“The mastermind rather than the master,” Danny said with a little nod, as if he really got it. He chewed on a potato, humming happily at the flavor, before he said. “That’s actually why WE was my end game. You’ve set up a really good environment there with diversity and pay equality and living wages. Also, if I could get high enough, which I have, I knew I’d be able to work on independent projects. It gives me a chance to do some real good too.”

“Your water filters are going to save lives,” Bruce agreed. “I’m not sure if Lucius has spoken to you about it, but we’re looking to make sure that every household in Gotham that wants one can get one. Not only will they be vital if a Rogue gets something in the water supply again, but until the reform of the water system is finished it will help the lower income areas that still have old pipe systems.”

“Really?” Danny asked, scoop of couscous forgotten halfway to his plate.

“Really. I’ve already started laying the seeds with the board. If nothing else, I’ll have them with how much good PR it will bring in for us.”

“You are a fiend,” Danny said with a little shake of his head. “A very benevolent fiend, but a fiend.”

“I just know how to work a board,” Bruce said, perhaps just a little smugly. “I might as well use growing up rich to do some good.”

“I think you’re just good at working people, that’s your mastery,” Danny said.

Bruce laughed, he couldn’t help it. “My children would strongly refute that. The more I care for someone, the worse I am at it. Things with logic or helping others, that’s easy for me to rally behind. Making sure that a loved one understands that the what and the why I’m doing something is because I care for them? Miserable. I’ve always struggled with showing those deeper connections, maybe because it’s always been so easy to act in public.”

Danny reached over and squeezed Bruce’s hand. “For what it’s worth, the fact that you’ve learned that and are trying to fix it? That means so much. I’m sure it does to your family too.”

“I hope so. I nearly lost some of them when I was younger and stupider, and I could never stand to again. Losing Jason for a time… he ran off because we had a fight. I was trying to protect him, make sure he didn’t make mistakes he would regret forever… I didn’t explain myself at the time and if I had…” Bruce shook his head and put on a smile. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’m making things dark. The important bit of this is that we will see your filters through out Gotham, I promise.”

Danny surprised Bruce by leaning in and giving him a soft peck on the cheek. “I don’t mind your shadows, Bruce. I’m well aware that we all have them.”

Bruce cleared his throat and squeezed Danny’s hand. His smile dropped into something smaller, but all the more real. “Thank you.”

Danny squeezed his hand back. “Now, tell me about these vacation options you’re concocting? As Lucius will tell you, it’s been too long since I’ve taken one that wasn’t for health or to see family.”

“Ah, a man after my own heart then,” Bruce said as he mentally ran through options for them. “To start with, sand or no sand?”

“With feathers? I’d be cleaning the sand out of my wings for hours,” Danny said. It was good to hear him mention his wings with more ease.

“Come now, half a hour tops, I’d gladly helped.”

“Why Mr. Wayne, I’m starting to suspect that you are fond of my wings.”

Bruce just shrugged. “When did I ever say that I wasn’t? They’re a lovely part of a lovely man.”

“Ancients,” Danny near whispered and hid his flushed face in his hands. “Okay, okay, I’m officially out flirted. Eat. Eat and convince me of this vacation.”

“If that’s what you want,” Bruce said, unable to help be proud of the reaction from Danny. He had to wonder if they did go on vacation, just how much he could make Danny blush like that.

He expected quite a bit.

[enwoso]

we are the champions | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

the highly anticipated one:) and a one long fic as people wanted. may do another one with the homecoming we’ll see

grumpy masterlist

the final whistle blew like a bullet through the lisbon sky.

arsenal women were champions of europe. for the second time.

alessia dropped to her knees on the pitch, emotion swallowing her whole. around her, the world turned gold, white and red, confetti blasting from cannons, teammates screaming, flares lighting up the estádio da luz in a halo of red and white.

they had done it. they had actually done it.

leah was the first to reach alessia, grabbing her in a bear hug, burying her face in her neck.

"we've actually done it," leah whispered, half-laughing through tears, the words feeling weird coming from her lips. "like we are actually european champions, less. what is life"

alessia laughed, clinging back as she placed a kiss to leah's cheek. "i don't think it's going to feel real for a few weeks."

leah smiled, eyes not leaving alessia's. the stadium behind them beginning to feel quieter, as if it was empty.

"i love you, less" leah whispered as she leaned i, slowly, like she wanted to give alessia the time to stop her — though they should have with the amount of camera fleeing around them but they both know they wouldn't. not in this moment.

leah's hand found alessia's waist, grounding them for a second while the other brushed gently against alessia's jaw, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek.

their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft and steady, unhurried. leah kissed her like she was trying to tell her everything she felt but couldn't say all at once.

alessia melted into it, her fingers curling into the back of leah's jersey - not because of heat or urgency but because of everything underneath it. love. relief. the quiet certainty that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

as they pulled apart, foreheads touching as they stood smiling like idiots. their joy was interrupted by beth sliming into them like a human bowling ball, as caitlin followed in pursuit the two laughing and whistling widely.

not far behind was kyra and steph dancing as katie was stood ruling the fans up as they chanted louder with each wave of the arms.

and somewhere between all the chaos and celebration, alessia's eyes searched for her person, other than leah.

and then—there.

by the touchline, just behind the led boards and camera flashes, was a tiny figure in an arsenal shirt with matching shorts and socks.

you. just five years old. face painted with red and white stripes that your nonna had done this morning, your curls bouncing, big blue eyes wide with glee. on your back: RUSSO 23 in thick black letters.

you'd been waiting for the chance to see your mummy, having not seen her properly since she left for the flight to lisbon on friday, hugging her one last time before she left you with your grandparents.

and now here you were, bouncing in place, fists pumping in the air like you'd won the trophy yourself.

"MUMMY!" you shrieked. alessia was on her feet and running before she even knew it. you launched yourself forward like a cannonball, nearly knocking your mummy over with the sheer force of her hug.

"i saw you get you m-medal," you gasped. "and- and you got to touch the shiny thing"

alessia laughed as she corrected you gently telling you that the 'shiny thing' was the trophy, before kissing your face over and over. "you watched the whole time?"

"i only blinked for snacks! but i saw everything!"

leah arrived moments later having been pulled to do a short press interview, smiling so brightly it hurt. leah pressed a kiss to alessia's temple and ruffled your hair as you hugged your mama.

"rumour has it you led chants in the stands," leah said as you nodded proudly. "well at least that's what uncle gio is spreading."

"i did!" you nodded proudly. "also had to make sure nonna and uncle g were cheering loud enough!'"

alessia blinked before a chuckle escaped her lips, the scene playing in her head so vividly. "good, you keep them in check lovie."

the three of you barely had time to breathe before beth reappeared, chloe in tow, both of them wielding medals like party favors.

"there she is! wondered when tiny was gonna make an appearance!" chloe smiled as she ruffled your hair, the winger placing herself between leah and alessia.

you beamed and held your arms up dramatically. "auntie lolo!" as chloe took you from your mums arms you giving chloe a warm hug.

"alright, tiny," katie shouted from across the pitch, charging toward them with a wild grin and the champions league trophy hoisted above the irish girls' head. "let's keep the cheers goin'!"

before anyone could react, katie kelt down, hoisted you onto her shoulders, and took off in a jog toward the centre circle, yelling like she was leading a viking raid.

leah's hand went to her head. "she's on katie's shoulders. should we be worried?"

"probably. but katie will keep her safe," alessia smirked. "and anyways lovie is basically built for chaos."

from halfway across the pitch, katie shouted, "CHLOE! YOU'RE ON VOCALS!"

chloe, never one to miss a chance to celebrate— ran after the two of you , waving her arms like a conductor. "let's GO!"

suddenly the lisbon night filled with voices — well, mostly shouting and off-key singing — as you, katie, and chloe launched into the loudest, most off-beat rendition of sweet caroline the stadium had ever heard.

"SO GOOD! SO GOOD!"

"MEATBALL LINE!" you yelled instead of 'sweet caroline'

katie didn't blink before joining in. "YES, MEATBALL LINE!"

"STINA STINA STINA STINA STINA" chloe chanted as the song changed, the fans joining in as stina was pushed forwards by the girls.

"BLACKSTENIUS!" you and katie responded continued the chant both hands in the air.

"SHE SCORES THE GOALS!"

"she scored the gooooaaalllls!" you screamed, arms in the air

alessia was bent over with laughter and awe watching you have so much fun. "oh my god. she's high on sugar and glory." leah was already making a mental note to pre-warn your teachers about the post-title behaviour for the next time she dropped you off.

the performance ended in classic mccabe fashion: a dramatic twirl that nearly sent chloe crashing, a fake mic drop with the match ball, and you collapsing in theatrical fashion onto the turf where all the confetti was, giggling and yelling, "THANK YOU LISBON!"

katie knelt down and gently lowered you off her shoulders. "you alright, tiny?"

you nodded, cheeks flushed as the confetti covered you as it tickled your bare legs "when i grow up, i'm gonna be a footballer and a singer and also be you."

katie grinned and saluted you. "you can stick around kiddo!"

the team gathered for photos, pulling you into every single one like you had made the final assist.

you held the trophy with alessia and leah, getting the perfect photos which would litter christmas cards for years to come as you inspected the trophy, "mummy! this would be the perfect for my coco pops!" you pointed at the trophy which in the middle was bowl shaped.

alessia laughed as she ruffled your hair, your innocence being too cute. "i- i think it's little too big to keep in the kitchen cupboard, don't you?"

you frowned slightly but the thought was long forgotten as your name was being called by beth, you rushing after her as you managed to steal her medal and make kyra give you a piggyback as steph braided ribbons into your curls as beth stole her medal back.

but eventually, the stadium lights began to dim and fans started to drift away. but on the pitch, under the lingering lisbon stars, the russo-williamson family found a pocket of quiet.

you had flopped into your mummy's lap, shoes long gone, holding your mummy's medal like it was excalibur.

"you tired now, angel?" leah asked softly, as you lay your head in her lap, your legs stretching onto your mummy's the bottom of your socks stained green.

"mm-hmm," you yawned. "but 'm not gonna sleep."

"no?"

"i gotta remember everything so i can tell everyone at school that my mummy and mama won the champions league and i sang on tv and auntie katie nearly head butting the wall."

"but i didn't though-" katie yelled from ten feet away. "i was sliding as a champion should!"

"you would have if leah hadn't have been in the way" kyra added helpfully. you giggled, eyes fluttering closed as leah stroked your hair.

"m' gonna show them all my medal and say, 'this was from my mummy and also 'm famous now.'”

leah smiled, reaching for alessia's hand. their fingers intertwined, their medals glinting in the soft lights.

"we did it," alessia whispered the words still feeling so weird coming from their lips.

leah looked at alessia. then at you. then back at the now-empty stands that had roared for them just hours ago. "yeah," she said. "we really did."

a trophy. a daughter. a dream come true. and, of course — one unforgettable performance of meatball line.

⸻

the party was already in full swing when the lift doors opened to the rooftop venue.

lisbon sparkled below them like a dream wrapped in gold foil. music pulsed through the warm night air, the city celebrating with them, as though it too had been part of arsenal's historic win.

inside, the team were already letting loose — champagne flying, dj spinning early 2000s bangers, medals clinking like party jewellery. the champions league trophy sat proudly on a plinth, already kissed, cradled and used as a makeshift hat.

alessia stepped into the chaos with you on her hip, changed into pyjamas except you insisted on wearing your arsenal shirt. leah followed, holding three drinks and already tipsy enough to be doing finger guns at nobody in particular.

"alright," leah grinned, "who's ready to celebrate like champions?"

"MUMMY!" you gasped, pointing at the dance floor. "katie's got the trophy and she's using it like a guitar!"

"she's had one drink and decided she's freddie mercury," alessia muttered although she couldn't stop the smile on her lips from appearing.

you were off your mummy's hip in seconds, beelining to the centre of the chaos where chloe, beth and kyra were trying to teach manu the macarena. katie was indeed shredding the air guitar solo with the champions league trophy and yelling "what the hell, what the helly" every ten seconds.

alessia and leah made their way to a quieter corner where their families had gathered. hug after hug. proud tears. leah's mum handed them both drinks like she'd been preparing for this moment since the group stages.

"champion's league winner," alessia's dad, mario said for the third time. "so proud of you less.”

"hope to never hear the end of it," gio chimed in, grinning at his sister. "might have to buy her a crown next."

leah laughed, draping herself across alessia's shoulder. "please do. i'll get her to wear it to breakfast."

a few drinks later, you had turned into the unofficial dj mascot — bouncing with beth and chloe, singing along to every song you didn't know the words to with absolute conviction.

but eventually, you took a break and plopped yourself down in a giant beanbag near the edge of the terrace — curly hair wild, cheeks pink, arsenal medal which was your mummy's swinging around your neck like a gold dinner plate.

your uncle gio dropping down beside you with a packet of crisps and a smirk. you both watched the dance floor as your mummy and beth attempted a tiktok routine, failing gloriously. leah was waving her medal like a lasso as katie was dancing with the trophy in one hand and a cocktail in the other like it was her child.

"they look a bit silly, don't they?" gio said in a stage whisper.

you giggled into your fries. "mummy's doing the wrong arms. and auntie bethy is singing at the wrong time"

"they look like baby giraffes trying to moonwalk," gio nodded. "but with glitter."

"mama was dancing earlier and said 'oof my hips' like she was old."

"that's because she is," gio winked jokingly as you stopped mid drink of your juice.

you gasped like he'd committed treason. "mama is not! she just creaks a little."

the two of you carried on watching as chloe attempted to pick up kyra for no apparent reason and immediately stumble into a table. "this party's wild," you declared wisely.

"this party," gio said, "is what happens when you give medals to people with work hard all season long."

"i like it."

"me too. but i think mummy has just tried to conga with a sandwich."

you both clinked juice boxes like critics at a cabaret. you leaned your head onto your uncle gio's shoulder for a second and said, "i think i'm famous now."

"oh, no question," he said. "you're already trending. probably."

but even chaos has its limits. by around half eleven, levitating blasted through the speakers again, and you — not one to be left out of a final banger — launched yourself back into the dance floor for one more spin.

one jump. two twirls. a victorious hop. and then, mid-wiggle, you slowly... lowered yourself to the floor, curled into a cushion, and fell completely, utterly asleep.

face down. arms flopped out. medal still around your neck, one croc on, one croc long gone. just out cold, right next to the trophy stand, as if you'd clocked off from being a legend.

"she's down!" beth called. "star of the show has left the building!"

alessia was already on her way, laughing as she bent to pick you up. "alright, little dancer. time to cash in your medal and sleep like a champ."

you didn't even stir. just let out a tiny sigh and snuggled into your mummy's arms like you'd done it all — lifted the trophy, saved the day, sang sweet caroline, and roasted everyone in the room.

leah joined the two of you on the quieter part of the terrace. someone on the way handed her a blanket, which alessia has draped over you and alessia as you sat on a cushioned bench under fairy lights.

"you good?" leah asked, curling beside them.

"i'm knackered," alessia said. "but happy. she's had the best night ever."

"she was the best part of my night," leah said. "even when she called you a noodle."

alessia groaned. "that's gio's fault."

"but she's not wrong though." they both laughed, gazing down at you, their whole world— cheeks rosy, medal slipping sideways around your neck, dreaming gold.

lisbon glittered around the three of you. music still played, but softer now. the team still swirled in celebration. but here, in this little pocket of peace, everything felt still.

⸻

the terminal smelled like coffee and regret.

leah leaned against a check-in kiosk wearing sunglasses indoors and holding a bottle of orange lucozade like it contained the secrets of the universe.

her medal was still around her neck, her hair a little messy in a bun, and her voice about three octaves lower than usual.

next to her, alessia looked like she'd lost a fight with this morning and had accepted her fate. she wore an arsenal hoodie two sizes too big (possibly leah's) hair scraped into a messy bun, and the unmistakable glaze of someone running on two hours' sleep and a cocktail made by chloe in a the trophy.

but in alessia's arms: you, dead silent, wide-eyed, and attached to your mummy like a sleepy koala bear. your curls were a mess, alessia doing your hair on the bus into a bun as you were dressed in a fresh pair of pyjamas

"she won't let me put her down," alessia whispered hoarsely, shifting the you slightly in her arms. "i tried once. she just screamed 'no mummy forever' and latched onto my neck like a vampire."

leah snorted and then winced. "ow. laughing hurts."

you turned your head. "no laughing. only snuggling." a beat passed. then leah felt a soft tug at her sleeve. you reached for her with both arms. "mummy switch. i want mama now."

so the handoff began — slow-motion, careful, like passing a bag of eggs, you now firmly climbing onto leah's front, arms wrapped around your mama like a human scarf. alessia groaned and rubbed her shoulder.

"my child is a barnacle."

"you're her whole world," Leah said.

"she's a twenty-kilo world with sharp elbows."

around them, the rest of the arsenal squad began to emerge from the coach in clumps — zombies in various forms of hangover and tiredness, herded by a very tired club staff who looked one bad joke away from quitting football forever.

beth walked past muttering, "i need paracetamol, sunglasses, and god," holding a water bottle like it owed her money.

steph and caitlin were quietly arguing about whether they'd packed their chargers. kyra was just standing in the middle of the airport hood up and sunglasses on, like she'd either forgotten how to go about life or she was just stood up asleep.

katie stumbled toward sunglasses tightly on her face, carrying the trophy, a neck pillow and backpack across her shoulder. "i swear i had a suitcase," she said to no one in particular, instead just to anyone who would listen.

"you left it on the bus," chloe mumbled behind her, chewing gum and wearing two pairs of sunglasses stacked like goggles.

katie turned. "do i at least have my passport?"

chloe checked her pocket. "i think you gave it to the trophy." no one questioned that.

"alright, alright," on of the staff member called out, clapping their hands. "let's move, champions. you're elite athletes, not a hen do in dublin."

"speak for yourself," katie said, and immediately tripped over a suitcase.

you, still clinging to leah like a sleepy tree frog, blinked slowly and whispered, "why everyone broken?"

"cause we had fun," alessia whispered, gently tucking a curl behind your ear.

"too much fun?"

"never but just enough."

they eventually made it through security, where you refused to go through the metal detector without one of your mums. the airport security just sighed. it ended in leah carrying you through like a small, suspiciously sparkly handbag.

at the gate, the squad collapsed into chairs like a deck of cards thrown on the floor. headphones in. hoods up. sunglasses on. nobody speaking above a whisper.

the champions league trophy was in its own seat, secured with a seatbelt and guarded by beth like it was a newborn baby.

you finally agreed to sit across both your mummy's and mama's laps like a bridge — head on one, feet on the other — eyes half-closed.

alessia pressed a kiss to your forehead. "tired now, lovie?"

you nodded slowly. "my legs feel like noodles."

"you and me both angel," your mama murmured, gently squeezing your little foot.

across the aisle, katie was asleep on caitlin's shoulder, clutching a bag of crisps like a teddy bear. kyra had fallen asleep mid-text with her phone resting on her face.

and somewhere near the back, alessia exhaled, one arm wrapped around you, the other tucked into leah's. the flight hadn't even taken off, and already, she felt the weight of it all hit her.

the trophy. the dancing. the singing. the way you had shouted "we're the champions" into katie's ear while sitting on her shoulders. the way leah had held her hand the whole walk to the hotel, the two of them laughing at nothing.

it had been magic. and now, in the grey haze of the morning after, there was just this:

a team of sleepy champions. a tiny medal-wearing daughter. and the soft, breathy sound of the people she loved most breathing beside her.

"less?" leah murmured, half-asleep already.

"yeah?"

"if she falls asleep again on me and drools, i'm not moving."

"she's already drooling," alessia whispered gently.

you grunted. "i can hear you." and then promptly fell asleep again — cheeks smushed against leah's hoodie, medal gently clinking, safe within arms reach.

lisbon was behind them. the trophy was theirs. the memories were golden. and the hangovers?

totally worth it.

[suliigwp]

Hi! Could you write another part for the Vroom Vroom story? Like they are all doing the interviews together and a reporter asks a question that she does not quite understand. Lewis or Alonso see that and try and explain it to her and the interview derails from there.

EMOTION ARC: MANY

Rookie! Reader x Platonic! Paddock

Previous Part!

SULI: I didn't think our vroom vroom would receive so much love, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! Here's another crack fic before the big more serious one comes! Thank you for requesting!

Warnings: pineapple on pizza mentioned, none!

The room is packed. Cameras flash, reporters fidget with recorders, and three drivers take their seats at the middle: Fernando Alonso, composed and sipping water like he didn’t just dodge chaos for 58 laps; Lewis Hamilton, ever-charismatic and polished, nodding to the crowd; and smack in the middle—The Rookie.

She’s wearing her race suit half unzipped over her team shirt, podium cap slightly crooked, and clutching the miniature champagne bottle like it’s a trophy. And her expression reads somewhere between am I still dreaming? and what happens if I open this bottle inside?

The moderator clears his throat.

“Congratulations to all drivers. We’ll open up the floor for questions.”

A reporter in the front row lifts a hand.

“This question is for our rookie. Congratulations on your first podium! Can you walk us through the emotional arc of your race?”

There’s a long pause.

The rookie leans forward toward the mic slowly, eyebrows drawn together in total confusion.

“…What is arc?”

She says it like someone just asked her to explain quantum physics using only interpretive dance.

Lewis, sitting next to her, is already smiling, having expected this exact energy.

“It means… like the emotional journey. How you felt at different points. Start, middle, end. That kind of thing.”

Still chewing gum, she nods slowly, visibly processing. Then, seriously:

“Ah. Okay. So…”

She leans into the mic again with full confidence now:

“Start: Scared. Turn 1: Still scared. Turn 3: Someone yell at me. Lap 7: I yell back. Then… vroom vroom. Rain happen. More vroom. Almost spin. I scream. I close eyes. Still drive. Then boom—I’m here. Emotion arc: Many.”

She finishes with a victorious sip of champagne and a shrug.

Fernando chokes slightly on his water.

Lewis is laughing, head down.

The press corps is stunned silent—then someone lets out a snort, and the whole room breaks into chuckles.

A second reporter raises a hand, trying to get things back on track.

“And how did you feel about the tyre strategy today?”

Rookie nods proudly.

“I do tyres.”

Dead silence.

Lewis blinks. “You… what?”

“I do tyres. I… use them. Good. Not bad. Round.”

Fernando leans toward the mic, totally deadpan.

“What she means is—her engineer made all the tyre decisions, and she said ‘okay’ with no clue what any of it meant.”

Rookie holds up a hand to correct him:

“No no. I say ‘okay’ very confidently. That is important. I fake it. I pretend I know. That is strategy.”

Lewis, still laughing:

“So you had no idea what tyre you were on?”

She pauses. Then:

“…Were they… black?”

Lewis slaps the desk. Fernando actually laughs out loud this time.

She points to Fernando and Lewis with both fingers like she’s shooting finger guns.

“Listen. You two talk too much about apex and degradation and undercut. I go vroom. That is my arc.”

The next reporter can barely hold a straight face but tries anyway:

“Okay… what was going through your mind when you crossed the finish line?”

She goes completely still, staring into the distance. Her voice drops into mock-dramatic whisper.

“I think… if I crash now… they still count, yes?"

Fernando puts his head in his hands.

“I want to say this is all an act, but I saw her spin in pit lane yesterday trying to wave at a pigeon.”

She shrugs again. “He looked friendly.”

Lewis tries to redirect:

“Let’s not forget she got P3 in the rain, held off Checo for five laps, and still had time to sing ABBA on the radio.”

She points triumphantly.

“Yes! This is why I win. Because of ABBA. And my skill. And because I forget to brake.”

Fernando stares at her.

“You… you forgot to brake?”

She looks unsure.

“I think maybe. I do one tiny brake. Just for fun. Mostly… vibes.”

At this point, a poor reporter in the back is just holding up a recorder, looking vaguely haunted.

Moderator clears his throat, half-chuckling.

“We’ll take one last question.”

A quiet voice from the back:

“What’s your goal for the rest of the season?”

She grins like she’s been waiting for this one.

“More podiums. More tyres. Less understanding. And… maybe one donut.”

She leans toward Lewis. “You teach me donut?”

Lewis, smiling warmly:

“Only if you promise to learn what a yellow flag is.”

She nods.

“Deal. But only yellow. No time for green.”

Fernando raises a hand.

“I would like to formally request she never meets Ricciardo.”

Lewis agrees.

“Or Kimi. We cannot risk it.”

She points between the two of them, grinning.

“Old men fear me. This means I win.”

As the conference ends and the drivers rise, Lewis drapes an arm around her shoulders, still chuckling.

“You know… you might actually be the future of the sport.”

She looks dead serious.

“Yes. But also… I want pizza now.”

Fernando, walking past her, doesn’t even break stride.

“If she podiums again, someone better bring pineapple pizza. Chaos deserves chaos.”

[utter-queer-nightmare]

1. Currently it's The Key Is from the Alice By Heart soundtrack (highly recommend!)

2. It's not really a "go to", but my old reliable is Kitchen Nightmares, it's so cathartic!

3. Ooh, that's a tough one... Probably reading, just because writing takes so much more effort 😅

4. I think it's called mirth? The feeling that makes you laugh. A close second is proper elation, the kind that makes you cry

5. I wrap myself up in a duvet and listen to an audiobook while doing something mindless with my hands. Always with a snack and drink

6. I don't light candles a lot, I'm not allowed them in my student halls. But I love the way "vanilla cake" candles always manage to specifically smell like cake, and not just vanilla.

7. Probably my friend who lives in my building. I do make an attempt to be good company, but I feel like I change myself the least around her.

8. The fur from my childhood bear, and the soft stretchy cotton blend most children's dresses are made of

9. My grandma used to pick me up from school and she'd always leave a packet of biscuits on the seat for me. I'd put music on and eat them on the way home, about a 45 minute drive.

10. Last night, I was re-listening to an audiobook and realised I'd forgotten about an especially funny scene. It took me completely by surprise 🤣

11. My childhood bear. He's a Harrods Christmas bear with the year on the foot. I'm a December baby and he was a birth present, the first present I ever got.

12. Music or books. Audiobooks when I'm too keyed up to focus on reading, and angry songs if I need to let it out before I can calm down.

13. Bath! I live in a flat that only has a shower, but I love the feeling of being submerged in water.

14. Short term, my university's summer ball is this weekend! Long term, the Hadestown proshot is confirmed and might be coming soon!

15. Either Italian or pub food. A nice spicy pasta or a proper hearty pie.

16. I've got a new colour by number book coming in the post, and I'm kind of planning/writing a new story.

17. Unconventional and very telling, but I feel so well cared for when I'm in hospital. I know it's not quite love, but I always feel so safe and looked after when I'm in hospital. And I think that's all love is. Being made safe and looked after.

18. Maybe late 20s/early 30s? I should be on ADHD meds by then, and have finished uni. Lower stress and brain noise.

19. Nope, but I did write a little letter to myself on here that should turn up in a few years. I think that counts as both?

20. Walking along the seafront in my hometown, usually eating ice cream. Sometimes with my mother/grandmother/siblings, sometimes with my friend, sometimes alone. Sometimes day, sometimes night. Feeling the wind on my face and smelling salt.

21. Hot chocolate, but it needs to be proper hot chocolate with milk instead of water, and plenty of sugar/sweetener!

22. Alice. It's made up of various songs that reminds me of the story of Alice in Wonderland. There's obviously a lot of Alice By Heart on there!

23. I have actually! A friend of a friend gave me some after one of our theatre shows, and later that year my mum sent some for my birthday.

24. I have two, one from the theatre group and one from my flat. I think I'm closer to the one from my flat.

25. I used to think it was purple, but I think it's pink now!

26. Somewhere luxurious and relaxing in Italy, and I'd probably bring my baby sister, but only once she's old enough to live away from our mum full-time

27. I'm quite ambivalent towards gardening. I dislike mud and I'm not very able-bodied, so I don't really consider it. I have some potted roses that have lasted almost a year though!

28. Probably that I'm still alive to be honest, closely followed by the sheer amount of hobbies and responsibilities I manage to fit into my life.

29. I don't know. Sometimes I think I am, or at least sometimes I think I try to be. But I'm also quite selfish and lazy. But I don't think it matters if I think I'm kind. It matters if other people think I'm kind. And I hope they do.

30. Colourful. I have ADHD, so I have a lot of hobbies. I'm part of a theatre group and an aerial/circus group. I bake once a week, and colour/write/sing as often as possible.

I know this isn't how this works, but it feels nice to do the whole list at once like this ☺️

✨soft asks✨

What song makes you feel better?

What is your go to comfort show?

Reading or writing? Why?

Whats your favorite feeling?

How do you like to take care of yourself?

What’s your favorite candle scent?

Who do you feel most like yourself around?

Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you?

Best childhood moment?

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards)

Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it!

What calms you down?

Bath or shower to relax?

Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Comfort food?

What’s something you want to create soon?

How do you feel best loved?

What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at?

Have you ever written or received a love letter?

Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart.

Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa?

Name of your favorite playlist?

Have you ever received flowers?

Who is your bestfriend?

If your soul was a color, what would it be?

If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring?

Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something?

What are you proudest of?

Are you a kind person?

What do your hobbies look like?

[abbessofflesh]

Snippet from an upcoming fic with a yearning dark! Remmick and soulmate/reincarnated/modern!Reader

“…and I’ll get out of your hair… for one taste.” You’re about to tell him he can taste iron and blood when you knock his teeth into the back of his skull, but his next words make you freeze, “I go any further than that and you can sock me one with that bat.”

He nods his head towards the hand you have hidden behind the door. How the hell?

Before you can respond, he takes a knee with a concerning amount of eye contact. Remains kneeling at your feet in a mockery of proposal as he awaits your answer.

If it will get him to leave. You shoot a hand out. It definitely does not tremble, but if it does he finds what small mercy he has to not comment on it. He seems a bit distracted at the sight of your skin, actually shivering with its proximity. Like he’s been starved for centuries and you just put a five-course meal in front of him.

His hands curl around yours, gently, as if they’re going to go through air at first. It makes something in you hesitate. How many times has he done this? How often did he dream of this throughout centuries, only to wake up and realize he fabricated you in mourning? You try not to sympathize with him too much, evil piece of shit he is.

But damn. Poor guy.

One of his hands goes to cup your wrist, firmly and enrapturedly securing around it to test the tangibility of your warm flesh. The other grasps your fingers in adulation, lifting them to press against chapped lips. A ghostly trace at first, then a real firm kiss. His brow furrows, face pinched as though he’s in pain, and he begins to murmur against your skin in a language foreign yet oddly familiar. A whisper in the back of your mind recalls the familiarity of this scenario in a dream. One of the sweeter ones.

Something stirs within you. Some calling woven into your very being. Rapture. Despair. Longing.

Longing?

You hesitate to pull back, but frankly, this is a little weird for you. You can only muster up so much empathy for this demonic being at your doorstep. Maybe a tube of Carmex.

“Okay. you're done.” The stupidity of this decision sinks like a stone in your belly when you try to tug your wrist back. It doesn’t budge an inch and Remmick, in his trance-like state doesn’t seem to notice.

“I said a taste, Darlin’.” He sounds breathless and a bit irritated, shoulders tensing briefly. Displeasure prominent in his tone at the mere prospect of your touch leaving him. Which, okay, between you both you think you’re more deserving of agency over your skin than he is.

He clearly doesn’t share that sentiment. The first lap of his tongue sends lightning flashing across your skin, hair raising and you try to play off an embarrassing little gasp as a cough. Fortunately for you, he doesn’t seem to notice and goes the extra mile in this competition of embarrassment to fucking moan into your skin, previously stable hands trembling in a way that reverberates up your arm. You’re about ready to release the bat in favor of holding him steady with a disbelieving dude, c’mon. or a pull yourself together, man.

You forget about the promise of one taste when the feeling of wet muscle laves against your hand again, firmer than the first. Lips catch on your knuckles, teeth scrape along the bones.

“You know what your taste does to me.” Your name falls from his lips, drawn out a bit too long in mockery with an undertone of starved mania. “Or…maybe not.”

His smile is cruel, a stark contrast to the off-putting, socially inept man that first knocked on your door. The familiar inflection of his old-world accent curling around his admissions with no hesitation.

“Do you know how many times you’ve been lost to me?” You ignore his question and yank your hand as hard as you can, but you might as well have your arm trapped in a lion’s maw for all the good it does you. He ignores your attempt as if it doesn’t register, murmuring frightening words warped with frenzied possession into your hand. “You make a goddamn habit of it.”

“Let go.”

He’s- yeah, that’s drool. He’s slobbering on your hand like a dog and looking at you shamelessly, unaffected by his neon sign of I haven’t got laid in centuries. His mouth parts like his nose just isn’t doing the job of filling his head with your scent.

“Y’know, you always say that.” His lips curl up, closing his eyes as if recounting a fond memory, like the two of you are sharing an inside joke you’re not privy to. “At first.”

Metal scrapes against the floorboards as you remember yourself (get a grip, woman), and prepare to swing. His eyebrows quirk lazily at the sound, but he lets go. You stagger, from not expecting the release and the wobbling of your knees for an entirely different reason.

“Leave, asshole.” You make an effort to take the reins on this encounter, but you both know who came out on top. “You stay away from here or you’re dead. More-so than usual.”

He’s still on a knee, listening to you speak like you’re answering a question he’s spent years trying to answer. Like he finds nourishment at the sight of you, your words, your harsh dismissal. You wonder how many times he’s heard something similar. How many times he’s disregarded it.

“Can’t do that.” He observes the door frame like he’s sizing up an invisible barrier. Movements unhurried as he gets to his feet, eyes glazed over with the fog of delusional possession. “I promised I’d marry you. I intend to keep that promise, this time.”

Your ears ring. Marry?

[chimerafeathers]

i love that isafrin can be the most straightforwardly romancey, wholesome pairing on a surface level and then you go one (1) level deeper and run into siffrin’s seething guilt and convoluted feelings around touch and intimacy and the extent to which they want or don’t want those things in a specifically romantic way or if he was trying to seek connection and love in any way he could once he knew that Isabeau wanted those things from him in that context, and the combined power trip/self disgust at “manipulating” Isabeau’s desires without his knowledge to make themself feel wanted and in control. and then you keep going and there’s also Isabeau’s own warped self image (still, in spite of all his changes, fearing that he’s someone that would be shameful to know), his “emotionally stable pillar” role and self-taught therapy talk masking his deep fears of real confrontation (struggling loop after loop to confess, not wanting Odile to confront Siffrin about their weird behavior in the sus quest bathroom talk) and how Siffrin’s fear of vulnerability and Isabeau’s fear of Pushing Too Hard allow both of their issues to fester unspoken long after it’s clear that the problems exist.

all this to say. duality of isafrin. makes my heart full and warm and happy to see the sweet, fluffy, silly love and connection between them (mutually romantic or otherwise). and then also. the delicious, delicious complications. gnawing on them like a dog with a beloved bone

[mapiforpresident]

A mix of 2 and 46, with alexia please?

Better because you’re here

alexia x reader

Thank you for the request!! Requests are still open and I linked the prompt list at the bottom

~~~

Away games with Barça always felt like a whirlwind. Between the training sessions, team dinners, and whatever chaos followed once we all got back to the hotel, there was never a dull moment. Tonight was no different.

Most of the team had crammed into Jana and Kika’s room. Somehow, that had become the go-to hangout spot. Blankets were tossed across the floor, someone had dragged in a tray of snacks from the hallway, and Salma had brought out a speaker that was already playing music way too loud for the hour.

I had found my place on the far bed, curled up next to Alexia, my head resting on her chest. Her arm was wrapped around me, her hand gently tracing patterns on my arm. It was loud and chaotic around us, but somehow, she made it feel calm. Safe.

The others were attempting to film a TikTok, one of those trending dances none of them had actually rehearsed but were convinced they could freestyle through. Kika was leading, obviously. Jana, Salma, Patri, and Vicky were involved too, and the rest of us were just spectating from the comfort of our own little corners.

I didn’t mean to fall asleep. But her warmth and the sound of her heartbeat had me drifting off before I could even realize it.

When I woke up, the first thing I felt was her fingers in my hair and the softest whisper in my ear.

“Bebé… wake up.”

I blinked slowly, still tucked into her side. “How long was I out?”

She smiled and brushed a piece of hair from my face. “About thirty minutes. You missed some truly questionable dancing.”

I laughed a little, still groggy. “How was your sleep?” she asked.

“Mm… it was good. Better.”

“Better how?”

I turned slightly, looking up at her with a lazy smile. “Better because you’re here.”

That earned me one of her softer looks, the kind that always made my heart do stupid things. She leaned in and kissed me, just once. Then again. And again. It was slow and easy, the kind of kiss that makes everything around you disappear. Her hand slid to my cheek, and I forgot there was even a room full of people around us.

“Oi! This is a PG-13 room!” someone yelled, probably Claudia, but no one actually looked back. They were too busy trying not to trip over each other mid-dance.

Eventually, we sat up again, and I leaned against her while she rested her hand on my knee.

At some point, we all called it a night. Everyone scattered to their rooms, the group chat still buzzing with voice notes and blurry photos from the evening. I didn’t think much of it. I figured that was that.

Until around 1:00 a.m.

The team group chat exploded.

Jana sent the first message.

“kika.”

Then Patri jumped in with “I’m going to scream.”

Mapi followed with a dozen eye emojis and a “HELLO???”

I was brushing my teeth with Alexia when my phone started buzzing nonstop. She glanced over at me.

“What happened, did someone get injured again?”

I opened the chat and saw the link. It was a TikTok — the one Kika had posted from earlier. I clicked it.

The video started off harmless. A messy dance attempt. Vicky slipping on a pillow. Salma pointing dramatically at the wrong direction mid-move. Total chaos. But then I looked closer at the background. And there we were.

Me and Alexia. Kissing.

Like full-on, hands-in-her-hair, tucked-into-each-other, heart-eyes kind of kiss. Blurry but unmistakable.

I froze.

“Oh my god.”

Alexia walked over, still drying her face with a towel. “What is it?”

I just held the phone up to her.

“Is that… us?”

I nodded slowly. “Kika posted it.”

For a moment, we both just stared. Then Alexia, of course, started laughing.

“Is it bad that I think we look kind of good in it?”

“Alexia.”

“What? It’s romantic! Everyone else is doing the worm or tripping over a sock and we’re just… having a moment.”

The messages kept pouring in.

Esmee sent, “I’ve never seen a kiss that soft. I’m crying.”

Ingrid added, “You look like a rom-com playing in the background of a horror movie.”

Claudia went for, “You were literally making out behind Vicky trying to dab.”

I covered my face with my hands. “I’m deleting my existence.”

Alexia just smiled, wrapping her arms around me from behind. “Do you want to ask her to take it down?”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “No. I mean… it’s us. We weren’t hiding.”

“Exactly,” she said, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “Let them talk.”

And they did. The video had already passed 100,000 likes by morning.

It was chaotic. Embarrassing. Hilarious. And, honestly?

It was kind of perfect.

Alexia looked over at me after training the next day and just smirked. “Still better because I’m here?”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile.

“Shut up.”

~~~

Requests are open

Link to prompt list

Buy me a coffee here.

[satansluckycigarette]

The idea of "genius" and "great men" both come from the same root in eugenics, and- just like great men- genius doesn't actually exist. The people we label geniuses didn't have anything special about them that made them better than you or I: they had opportunities. And many of them recognized this:

The book by Stephen Hawking that he considered his magnum opus was Standing on the Shoulders of Giants: a historical look at how his theories and work related to black holes and quantum physics could be traced all the way back to the atomists in Ancient Greece. When Albert Einstein taught physics, he refused to use written standardized tests- as the originators of the standardized test model designed it to eliminate contributions from neurodivergent people- and would instead instruct students through practical application because actually doing the science these students wanted to learn would show them where their strengths and weaknesses were far better than a test (hence his famous "dog, fish, monkey" allegory).

They want you to believe you deserve to be ignorant that you lack something the Einsteins of the world had, they want you to internalize it as a personal failing, and they want you to either lash out against the "ivory towers" (becoming a weapon they can use in the form of a mob or a conspiracy theorist) or to become a card-punching cog in the machine who never thinks beyond the little box they put you in. They don't want you to listen to the scientists, to let them tell you where they came from: the opportunities they had, the things they did to help them improve in their fields, the way every observation they make is a kind of science- because that might also be true of you. And if you ask for opportunities, then maybe others will and suddenly everyone will be asking for a better life. And then real dregs of society: the assholes at the top, who do know work but have all the money: might suddenly find that they have a lot to answer for that they can't because they never learned.

Genius isn't real. It was a lie made up to make you feel stupid and compliant. Go learn something today: you have nothing to lose but your chains.

Culture is so obsessed with the idea of lone geniuses that it doesn't really appreciate that most of the progress of science (and likely every other discipline) occurs collaboratively, in babysteps, and usually through a lot very tedious, utterly unsexy, work.

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton

Chapter 6, Part 1

masterpost (please no editing, head hurt, throat hurt, words hard)

“Danny, no,” Dick said, again.

“Danny, yes,” Danny said back, again.

Gar leaned over to Wally and whispered loudly, “You like the stubborn ones, don’t you?”

Wally sighed and buried his face in his hands. That would have worked better if his hands weren’t still slightly transparent.

“Black hair and blue eyes too,” Victor added.

“What an observation, you’re a real genius,” Donna said with a roll of her eyes.

“Uh, yeah, I actually am a genius,” Victor pointed out.

“Inappropriately positive,” Kori said with a tilt of her head as she watched Dick and Danny argue.

Gar blinked at her. “What?”

“Like… they are positive even when they should not be positive about the situation. They are… no, they pretend to be optimists,” Kori explained.

The rest of the gathered Titans looked at Dick and Danny thoughtfully.

“Yeah, no, you’re right. Inappropriately positive,” Gar agreed.

“Recklessly self sacrificing,” Raven added, to agreeing nods and murmurs.

“So smart they’re stupid.” The Titans turned to look at Mina, who just gave a little shrug. “It’s true.”

“So true. Can we keep you?” Gar asked.

Mina laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not hero material, I’m just an oracle. But if you ever need a reading, you just have to give me a call!”

Gar perked up like a puppy even without transforming. “Oh! Can you do one while you’re here?”

“Focus, Gar,” Raven said.

“Ugh. ‘Focus’, as if there’s anything we can do while they argue!” Gar said with a gesture towards Wally’s boyfriends.

“Who do you think will win?” Donna asked.

“Danny,” Wally answered. He pulled his face out of his hands and shrugged when his team (plus Mina) all looked at him. “At the end of it, they both want me back. Either Dick gives in now, or he gives in when things feel hopeless, but he’ll give in.”

“But at the risk of Danny?” Kori asked.

Wally bit back comment about how she didn’t know Dick, not like she thought she did, but that would have just been lashing out with his own frustrations. Dick and Kori’s breakup was ages ago, and Dick’s wounds had long scarred over. Besides, he never did let Wally fight for him, even when he needed it most.

“Danny’s been a hero. Rules are different for heroes,” Wally explained. “At the end of the day, Dick will trust that Danny understands the risk. He’ll let Danny make the final call.”

Raven gave a little nod. “And he will hate himself for it the whole time.”

“Yeah,” Wally agreed with a sigh. “Danny?”

The argument cut off with both of them turning to blink at Wally. It would be adorable, the way they moved in sync, if things weren’t so serious.

“Give me the over under on this,” Wally said. “Treat it like you’re proposing an experiment. What the risk something happens to you? What’s the risk we can’t undo it? And what’s the risk if we don’t do it?”

Danny set his hands stubbornly on his hips. “The risk is you never get back!”

“To you, Danny, what’s the risk to you,” Wally said, almost pleaded.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? What yeah?” Gar asked, unable to help himself.

“The yeah is, that I think it’s pretty obvious to everyone that being Wally’s anchor is effecting my health,” Danny said. He crossed his arms. He looked smaller for it. “Is my plan putting myself at risk? Sure. I would say about an eighty percent chance that something serious is going to happen to me.”

“Which is too high,” Dick pleaded.

Danny sighed. “But Wally’s point is, if we do nothing? It’s a hundred percent chance that something serious happens to me. This isn’t sustainable.”

“Oh…” Dick said after a beat. “Yeah, that’s an oh.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed. He took a breath and turned back meet Dick head on. “I guess I wasn’t making that part clear enough. This is a risk, I know that, but we can do it as safely as possible. I can be surrounded by heroes in a state of the art medical facility. Sure, I’m already weaker than I was, but I’m still strong enough to do this. I’ve bounced back from worse; I believe in my chances. And at the end of the day, it’s my risk. So please, believe in me too?”

Dick was silent for a long moment, searching Danny’s gaze, but Wally already knew what Dick was doing to say. He wasn’t surprised at all when Dick sighed with a slight slump.

“I believe in you,” Dick said, “but there will be precautions and fail safes in place first, so we’re not doing it right this instant.”

“That’s fine,” Danny agreed quickly.

“And we’re bringing in some of the Justice league.”

“Sure, not a problem.”

Dick snorted. “You say that, but you haven’t met Constantine yet.”

“Who?”

--

AN: Wally loves his stubborn idiots and he's going to try to protect Dick from his own guilt if he can. Danny... he's just trying to trust Danny.

(While I love Kori as a character, I hate how that whole event was written and the victim blaming of it. So sometimes I have to let myself be a little salty about it.)

[sargeteen]

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ! ˡˢ²

it’s all my love, you got all my love ✮⋆˙

𝒍ogan sargeant x 𝒅river!male reader synopsis: reader is the second driver to max verstappen, and rightfully so as max is a 4 time wdc. but, then comes miami 2025. reader hasn't had a good season so far, but the second he brings his dropped boyfriend, everything turns around.

genre: smau, fluff, chaotic humor at times warnings: speak of logan being dropped, reader takes yuki’s spot @ redbull, reader isn’t american, reader loves his pop/rap girlies

requested? nope author’s note: i missed yall sm! this was written and set up before my rebrand, so don't mind the old layout 😭😭 also this is kind of messy but uh...ueah who gaf

masterlist.

📍 miami, florida ♫ nissan altima 🅴 • doechii

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and others

youruser wuz gud miami

view all comments

userone wait…logans in miami with y/n?????

usertwo NOBODY PANIC LOGANS IN MIAMI

userthree MIAMIIIIIIIII WOOOO

logansargeant bwoah 😍😍 ⤷ youruser hi sexylicious

logansargeant who’s that tall drink of water in the first pic???? ⤷ youruser oh shhh making my blush n shit

logansargeant please have my children ⤷ youruser WOAHH DOWN BOY DOWNN 😏😏 ⤷ oscarpiastri take your freak somewhere else ⤷ logansargeant take yourself out of my bfs comments

userfour are you officially an uncle now ⤷ youruser you talkin about my lovely niece verstappen that’s going to be born this week? then yes, i’m gonna be an uncle, and the best uncle too

userfive y/n i need more logan content in miami

usersix AWOOGAAA BOOM SHAKALAKA YES GODDDD YES GODDDD

userseven y/n is my religion

maxverstappen1 stop posting yourself shirtless, y/n. nobody wants to see that. ⤷ youruser just say you’re jealous of my 20 pack max, nobody will judge you 😘 ⤷ maxverstappen1 i’m jealous of the person i was before i saw this picture ⤷ usereight I DO MAX. I WANT TO SEE THAT. ⤷ usernine who is “nobody” 😵‍💫😵‍💫

userten if logan goes to the gp i think i’ll pass away

♫ will smith • miami

liked by f1, oscarpiastri, isackhadjar, and others tagged: youruser, logansargeant

redbullracing guess who we found in miami 👀???

view all comments

usereleven never thought i’d live to see the day where logan sargeant wears a red bull racing shirt…

usertwelve OH MY GODDDD LOGANNN signs of life

youruser THE IT COUPLE OF F1! ⤷ logansargeant i know that’s right 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

userthirteen last time logan was at an formula 1 race, he was driving, and that was his last ever race. ⤷ userfourteen ho did you just shoot me 2 times

logansargeant manifesting an y/n pole and win in the homeland ⤷ youruser i’m not from the states 😭?? ⤷ logansargeant yeah but i am so homeland win ⤷ youruser stop trying to propose on insta ⤷ logansargeant let me be y/n 😕💔

userfifteen gay people in miami, be careful out there ..

usersixteen i’m actually crying i love them so much

userseventeen the fact that both max and y/n refuse to wear anything but the team kit on race days ⤷ youruser god forbid a man doesn’t know how to dress 😕💔

usereighteen logan is wearing one of y/n’s shirts and idk what to do with that information..

maxverstappen1 when’s the wedding ⤷ youruser someone’s gotta propose first ⤷ logansargeant do you want to be sar on the timesheets or keep with l/n ? ⤷ maxverstappen1 i didn’t mean under my comment.

usernineteen CANT BELIEVE THAT LOGAN IS BACK AT A FORMULA ONE RACE THIS IS INSANE

usertwenty WHY IS NOBODY ELSE LIKE FUCKING FREAKING OUT ABOUT LOGAN BEING AT MIAMI HELLO??????

♫ go to town 🅴 • doja cat

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and otherstagged: logansargeant

youruser lemme see you go to town...we love you miami

view all comments

logansargeant IF YOU DOWN BOY REAL DOWN ⤷ youruser LEMME SEE YOU GO TO TOWN!!

usertwentyone love how the internet is freaking out about logan sargeant being in the paddock yesterday for fp1, and here y/n and logan are just living their lives 😭😭

logansargeant the music i listen for you babe ⤷ youruser be honest, you love my music, love ⤷ logansargeant i can't, my reputation ⤷ youruser god forbid a white guy catches a vibe 💔💔

usertwentytwo i need y/n's playlist please 😭😭 ⤷ youruser here you go; open.spotify.com/playlist/2huh... ⤷ usertwentytwo UOU'RE A GODSEND

usertwentythree Y/N L/N MIAMI POLE! Y/N L/N MIAMI WIN!

maxverstappen1 how did you even get up there ⤷ youruser i'm a slippery fellow ⤷ maxverstappen1 yeah so...no thank you ⤷ youruser i just know how to climb...😉 ⤷ maxverstappen1 EW WHAT THE FUCK

usertwentyfour y/n was born to give max heart attacks

usertwentyfive CAN'T BELIVE YALL ARE IN MIAMI TOGETHER

usertwentysix like it was lowkey expected since yall are dating but like i was still shocked to see logan wearing a RED BULL RACING TEAM KIT

oscarpiastri i almost threw up. never going on a boat that y/n is driving again. ⤷ youruser you just hate fun ⤷ oscarpiastri i would actually rather have you alive so then logan isn't crying and complaining in my dms about how much he misses you ⤷ youruser he already does that during rawe ceek ⤷ logansargeant ok wtf we outing me for. WHAT YOU SAYING FUCK ME FOR?????

charles_leclerc the l/n-sargeant boat party was so much fun! please tell me we are doing these until 2041 👴🏻❤️ ⤷ youruser CHARLESSS LMFAOOO yes we're doing them until we're 80 ❤️❤️ ⤷ charles_leclerc we're gonna kill it on the dance floor with our dentures ⤷ kimiantonelli old asses ⤷ youruser KIMI YOU'RE A KID YOU CANT SWEAR

usertwentyseven y/ns comments are always chaotic

usertwentyeight love you forever y/n and logan!

usertwentynine do yall need a third? ⤷ youruser i'll keep in touch

userthirty BOAF!

liked by logansargeant, youruser, redbullracing, and others

f1 Y/N L/N TAKES POLE IN MIAMI!!!!

what a performance from y/n after performing out of points for the first 5 races of the season!

view all comments

userthirtyone OH THATS MY GOAT RIGHT THERE

userthirtytwo he finally realized how to drive a red bull ⤷ userthirtythree this shouldn't be funny

logansargeant ready for that y/n sweep... ⤷ youruser you're going to jinx me, loges ⤷ logansargeant i could never jinx you, babe

userthirtyfour ok call me crazy...y/n hasn't been performing well at all this season, but then the second his bf shows up to a race he's getting above p8 for all practice sessions and then gets pole in quali? oh this man is so down bad it's crazy ⤷ userthirtyfive just another gay man who wants to perform well for his bf he aint special open your eyes to the land of landoscar ⤷ userthirtysix please delete the people are asking for you to delete

userthirtyseven i wonder what oscar's reaction was to seeing logan back in the paddock

redbullracing and that's how we do it here at red bull ⤷ userthirtyeight after messing up the first 5 races? ⤷ userthirtynine just fire horner atp

userfourty GOD BLESS AMERICA I LOVE MY AMERICAN DRIVER ⤷ userfourtyone he ain't american? ⤷ userfourty yeah but his bf is so that makes him american by proxy and i need my american rep back in the f1 paddock ⤷ userfourtyone can't even argue with you here

liked by logansargeant, youruser, redbullracing, and others

f1 Y/N TAKES THE MIAMI GRAND PRIX, HIS FIRST EVER FORMULA 1 WIN! 🥇

view all comments

userfourtytwo MY GOAT THATS MY DRIVER I LOVE YOU

userfourtythree sorry for ever doubting you y/n...

logansargeant A HEATER 🔥🔥🔥 ⤷ youruser oh please shut your mouth, respectfully

logansargeant now i'm not saying that this is all because of me...but i think i might have something to do with this ⤷ youruser please dont go around bragging...

logansargeant THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND!!! ⤷ userfourtyfour don't worry logan...nobody is taking him from you ⤷ userfourtyfive i am... ⤷ logansargeant no you aren't

userfourtysix thank god i'm so happy for him he really deserves this win oh my god i love u

userfourtyseven WOMP WOMP WHO GAF ⤷ logansargeant ME! I GAF! I DO GAF!

logansargeant look at my sexy boyfriend

userfourtyeight i need a bf like logan fr

userfourtynine THAT WORLD DRIVERS CHAMPIONSHIP IS NEXT

userfifty OH MY GOATTTTTT

liked by youruser, charles_leclerc, kimiantonelli, and others

logansargeant BOOM SHAKALAKA MY BOYFRIEND IS A GRAND PRIX WINNER!!!

view all comments

youruser and my boyfriend is the boyfriend of a grand prix winner ⤷ logansargeant i kind of like this wag business

userfiftyone your boyfriend is a SLUT ⤷ logansargeant that is also true ⤷ youruser how am i supposed to argue that?

tags: @milessunflowers @lokisenpai @kevinlolwife @op-81-lvr-reblogs @kazanskied @481rosier @raizelchrysanderoctavius @mountainshuman @spoonfulofmilo

[whumpster-fire]

Buckle up, this whole article's a train wreck.

In Disney's new live-action Lilo & Stitch movie, the chief antagonist from the original 2002 animated film, Captain Gantu, is nowhere to be found. Instead the climax has been revised to make Jumba (played by Zach Galifianakis) the villain, as he seeks to recapture his experiment as part of his own plot for galactic domination. It is Jumba who kidnaps both Lilo (Maia Kealoha) and Stitch (voiced by Chris Sanders), as opposed to Captain Gantu, and who Stitch must escape from before helping to rescue Lilo. It's a big change from the original movie, but director Dean Fleischer Camp explains that it was necessary to maintain the more realistic parameters of live action. "Something that live-action films do by virtue of taking place in reality is that they are already more grounded," Fleischer Camp tells Entertainment Weekly. "If you have a story like Lilo & Stitch that does actually have this pretty terrestrial drama between the sisters and staying together, you can actually do them a greater service in a live-action movie. You can make those relationships deeper, hopefully more emotionally resonant."

Why did they hire somebody who didn't want to make a sci fi movie with aliens to make a sci fi movie with aliens?

There's also the fact that live action can heighten or change the stakes of storytelling, which was a factor here. "You end up thinking about how it is a very different experience to see an actual 6-year-old girl potentially being threatened with being torn from her caregiver sister after grieving the loss of their parents," Fleischer Camp says. "That is a very different kind of responsibility from a filmmaking perspective than what you can get away with in an animated film."

There's nothing I can possibly say here other than this jackass does not like or respect animation as a medium, and also HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU NOT FEEL THE FULL FORCE OF THAT IN THE ORIGINAL? DID YOU WATCH THE MOVIE?

That realization also led the filmmaking team to divide the character of Cobra Bubbles, Lilo's social worker in the animated film, into a CIA agent of the same name (Courtney B. Vance) and the new role of Mrs. Kekoa (Tia Carrere). "If the dramatic stakes of Lilo is that she's going to get separated from her sister, then you need a person who actually services those stakes in a credible way," Fleischer Camp says. "You can get away with that being Cobra Bubbles in an animated film — a 6-foot-5 huge dude with 'Cobra' tattooed on his knuckles is somehow a social worker in that world."

Fleischer Camp didn't technically say the word "Black," but come on, dude, you got your dog whistle mixed up with a foghorn by accident, saying Cobra's appearance and mannerisms "don't fit" with him being a social worker is 100% racism.

He adds, "To create real estate for all that emotional stuff and the deepening that we did, you have to get rid of stuff. And so Gantu was a casualty of that, but one that I felt pretty confident about from a storytelling perspective."

Bitch what deepening? You fucking DELETED Jumba's entire character arc, which was about learning to see Stitch as a person and not as an object and extension of himself. One of the few flaws of the original film is the awkward pacing and lack of focus given to this arc and Jumba's abrupt change of heart. There WAS room to deepen this. Also I'd argue Jumba's arc is about seeing the real consequences of his actions and how they're causing people to suffer, which is a mirror of Stitch's.

That made Jumba the natural choice, particularly because it would allow the film to further amplify its themes of family and community. "Jumba is a father figure," Eirich notes. "A terrible delinquent father figure, but father figure nonetheless to Stitch. So, it did feel like, 'Oh, maybe that could actually give even more resonance to the third act.' We started down the path with no Gantu, just seeing where it was going to lead. If it didn't lead anywhere, we would've probably come back and put it back in the movie, but it did feel really fertile from a story perspective."

YOU DELETED JUMBA'S CHARACTER ARC. HIS CHARACTER ARC THAT IS ABOUT HIM BECOMING A BETTER FATHER FIGURE TO STITCH. A lot of this is in the sequels and TV show or just hinted at in the ending montage, but again that's something you could have expanded on. You're making a remake, you could have borrowed plot elements from the sequels.

Anyway: I just saw a post on my dash earlier today about the intentional parallels between the humans' storyline and the aliens' storyline in Lilo & Stitch. Now here's why Gantu is important:

THE VILLAIN OF LILO & STITCH IS THE CARCERAL STATE.

The primary antagonistic force of this film, for both the human and the alien side, is a justice system that is focused on punishing people instead of helping them. Cobra and the Grand Councilwoman are both people who are trying to be compassionate and do the right thing while working within a flawed system, and in the resolution of the plot they both very literally work together to find a loophole that lets them not have to tear a family apart. Jumba has his own redemption arc as I said above.

Gantu is important not just as an antagonist for Stitch (and Jumba) to show their character growth by facing, but as a foil to Cobra and the GCW. He is an agent of State power who abuses that power, and clearly enjoys having an excuse to use his authority to commit violence. He's cruel, petty, vindictive, and doesn't care about the safety of innocent bystanders (Lilo). He is very much representative of one of the themes of the film: he represents punitive justice at its worst, a bigoted cop who wants Stitch dead. It is not just about "bad guy who shows up and shoots some lasers." If anything making Jumba the villain as a criminal who wants to take over the galaxy is more "Bad Guy Who Shoots Lasers" than the original. It is actually important to the themes of the story that Gantu is a fucking cop.

Accordingly: I'm going a little bit out on a limb here, but if I was forced to be in charge of making a live-action adaptation of Lilo & Stitch, and I wanted to deepen the themes, I wouldn't remove Gantu, I would give him a human counterpart, someone who's actively gunning for the Pelekais based on prejudice or personal dislike, or is going after the alien "invasion" and tries to get Nani and/or Lilo in trouble for "harboring" Stitch.

(I saw a post saying Myrtle was the human parallel to Gantu, but, like, Myrtle is a small child. She's in a position of racial, economic, and social privilege over Lilo but she's not in a position of power over her the way Gantu is. Maybe if the film made Myrtle's rich daddy start pulling strings and fucking with Nani's employment prospects because Lilo kicked his daughter's ass, that would be one thing, but in the movie as things stand, Myrtle is an annoyance and not a genuine threat)

Anyway: I'm beginning to think that the problem with Disney live action remakes isn't just the executives micromanaging creative decisions for the sake of profit, it's that they hire directors who have a specific artistic vision, but those directors are mean-spirited hacks who don't understand, respect, or even like the movies they're remaking, so their artistic vision ends up being either incoherent garbage or a "fuck you" to the original.

Everything I hear about the Lilo & Stitch revival somehow makes me angrier. Like,

That realization also led the filmmaking team to divide the character of Cobra Bubbles, Lilo's social worker in the animated film, into a CIA agent of the same name (Courtney B. Vance) and the new role of Mrs. Kekoa (Tia Carrere). "If the dramatic stakes of Lilo is that she's going to get separated from her sister, then you need a person who actually services those stakes in a credible way," Fleischer Camp says. "You can get away with that being Cobra Bubbles in an animated film — a 6-foot-5 huge dude with 'Cobra' tattooed on his knuckles is somehow a social worker in that world."

Hey. Hey, Director Dean Fleischer Camp. Why is a large black man with tattoos having a job as a social worker something you consider so ridiculous that it could only exist in animation? Why are you carefully sidestepping the fact that he is the only black character in the original film? Is it somehow more realistic to turn him into a figure who only interacts with the family through the lens of government defense against extraterrestrials? Or does the idea of a scary looking black man caring about the well-being of people's families confuse you, you racist piece of shit?

[wendichester]

first off, i love your content 🩷 could you pls write about dean & sam having a elder or younger sibling, or one of them having a twin sibling, and that sibling who serves in the army, or in the navy or the marines? could it be like a fluff situation, reuniting after a long time, or maybe the sibling was kia and the boys were notified, idk, it’s up to u 🩷 i hope you have a lovely weekend 🩷

ೀ⋆｡˚ welcome home, soldier,

summary. you're finally back after four years overseas. the boys couldn't beam brighter.

pairing. sam + dean winchester x soldier sister!reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 516

notes / warnings. non-cannon, soft reunion fluff

Dean's leaning against the Impala, sunglasses hiding everything his face won't say, but his boot taps are betraying him.

Sam checks the time again, even though it hasn't changed since the last three times. “She should be coming out any minute.”

“Yeah.” Dean swallows. “Just... it’s been a while.”

“Four years,” Sam says quietly. “Not that long.”

Dean huffs, but it’s not a laugh. “Felt like forever.”

They both look up when the sliding airport doors hiss open.

And there you are.

Backpack slung over one shoulder. Hair tied up, uniform crisp. Eyes scanning until they land on them—and then your whole face lights up like you just got handed a winning lottery ticket and a slice of pie at the same time.

“DEAN! SAM!”

Dean drops his drink. Sam actually runs.

You're engulfed in your brothers’ arms before you can even blink.

“Holy shit, kid,” Dean mutters, crushing you against his chest. “You got taller.”

“You’re imagining it,” you laugh into his jacket.

Sam’s hugging your other side, tight and warm and familiar. “We missed you.”

You pull back just enough to look at them—really look at them. Sam’s hair is longer. Dean’s got more lines near his eyes. They look like they’ve aged ten years in four.

“You guys look old.”

Dean scoffs. “Rude.”

“You look like a badass,” Sam says, brushing a leaf off your shoulder like he’s trying not to cry.

“I am a badass,” you grin, wiping something from your eye. “But I missed you guys so bad.”

They pull you back in. This time, none of you let go for a while.

Later, in the car, Dean keeps glancing at you through the rearview mirror like he doesn’t trust the moment to be real.

“Still can’t believe you’re home,” he mutters, like if he says it too loud, you’ll disappear.

You smile, watching Kansas roll by the window. “Feels weird being back. Too quiet.”

“Not for long,” Sam says with a smirk. “We already stocked the fridge. Got that cereal you like.”

“And I’m making burgers tonight,” Dean adds.

You raise an eyebrow. “With the crispy onions?”

Dean snorts. “Hell yeah, with crispy onions. You think I don’t remember?”

“You cry every time she leaves,” Sam deadpans.

“I do not—”

You both stare at him.

“…shut up.”

That night, you’re in your old room, finally unpacked. Sam’s gone to bed, and Dean lingers in the doorway.

“You good?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

You nod. “Better than good.”

“Good.” He pauses. “If anyone ever gave you shit over there… or if stuff got bad and you didn’t tell us…”

“Dean,” you say gently. “I’m okay. I made it back.”

He nods once. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

There’s a beat. Then you open your arms.

He walks into them without a word.

For a long moment, it’s just you and your big brother, wrapped in a hug that says everything he can’t.

“Welcome home, kid,” he whispers into your hair.

And you smile, because yeah. You’re finally home.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[mischievousmoony]

𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒

⟢ frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⟢ when you're not working at brewology, you spend your mornings in the arms of someone you love ⊹ 1.6k ⟢ warnings/tags: talks of drinking/parties/bars, james and reader do not like coffee, reader loves matcha, sirius is a lil annoying ⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3

note: last part!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Flashes of morning light dance across your sleeping face as the wind picks up, blowing air through the open window, stirring the curtains into gentle motion.

You hug the maroon and gray sheets around your body, rolling over to hide your face in that one mismatched pillow with the Spider-Man pillowcase.

It’s Sunday, the one day Brewology is closed, and the one day you actually get to sleep in. The sunshine won’t take that away from you.

You feel around the other side of the bed, searching for something—someone—to take comfort in, but only meet sheets that are still warm with the ghost of his presence. You prop yourself up on one elbow, rubbing sleep from your eyes with your free hand.

The room is dark, and its walls are painted a deep gray, which only adds to your sleepiness. In the soft light filtering through the edges of the curtains, you can make out the room around you: a rugby bag tossed in one corner, a skateboard propped against a desk, a red flag with big Greek letters hanging behind you, and more plants than you’d expect in a guy’s bedroom.

Where is the boy it all belongs to?

You push yourself up all the way, crossing your legs in front of you as you read the numbers on his digital clock. 9:34 a.m. Far too early to be up and out of bed after spending half the night taking you to what felt like every single bar in the city.

Your brain is still dragging itself toward consciousness when the door creaks open slowly, and finally, your boyfriend returns to you.

He’s surprised to see you awake at first, but he’s not complaining. His lips curl into a warm smile, and something clinks as he places it on his bedside table.

“Good morning, my angel,” he greets softly, gently cupping both sides of your face and placing a lingering kiss on your lips. “Did you sleep well?”

Some sort of noise between a grunt and a whine leaves your lips in response. You suppose you had slept well, but it was ruined when you woke up much earlier than intended and without him at your side.

“No?” James asks with a tilt of his head, stroking your hair.

“Come back to sleep,” you murmur. “Why’re you up?”

James perched himself on the edge of the bed, his hands dropping from your face but not entirely leaving you—one resting on your knee while the other took your hand, his thumb now gently stroking your knuckles.

He speaks softly so as not to disturb you in your sleepy state too much. “Sirius stumbled in ‘bout an hour ago. Still hammered from last night and making all sorts of noise in the kitchen. Had to go shut him up.”

You think back to last night. Bar hopping with James’ friends (who all hate it when you call them that, always insisting they’re your friends now too).

You remember how, when you were tuckered out and ready to head home to crash in James’ arms, Sirius made a whole scene trying to convince you both to stay—to follow him to some after-party at one of the frats.

So it would seem that while you and James tucked into bed, Sirius and whoever he dragged along spent the rest of the night partying.

You drop your head onto James’ shoulder. “Why didn’t you come back to bed after?”

“I did, for a while, but I couldn’t get back to sleep. I only left again to get something to drink. Look, angel, I have one for you too.”

James shifts so you can see around him, but you already know what it is.

Last week, the espresso machine at work broke (and caused the worst shift of your life). James had come in for some caffeine, heart set on whatever coffee you made him the day he met you. When he couldn’t have that, he said to make him something “easy”.

You made him a chai latte, and he hasn’t been the same ever since.

It’s been his new obsession. It may have much less caffeine than he’s accustomed to, but that hasn’t deterred him.

Most mornings, he disappears to the nearest cafe and comes back with two teas and whatever pastry he chooses to surprise you with that day. So you’re quite shocked when you peer at his bedside table and find two of his own mugs instead of the plastic to-go cups you were expecting.

“You made ‘em?” you ask, your gaze meeting his proud smile.

“Mhm,” he hums, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. One thing about dating James: his lips are almost always on you, sneaking in kisses whenever he can. “Want yours?” he murmurs into your hair.

You hold out your hands in response, making grabby motions with your fingers, and he places the mug in your grasp.

He’s made his own cold foam, somehow, and sprinkled the top with cinnamon. Ice clinks low and heavy against the ceramic as you lift it to your lips.

A sound of satisfaction purrs from your throat, and you go in for a second sip. This is better than the chai lattes at work by a mile.

“What did you do?” you ask, looking up at him, oblivious to the dot of cold foam on the tip of your nose.

He chuckles, swiping it away with his thumb and following it up with a peck from his lips. “Saw one too many videos on my phone of people making them at home and I had to go all in. Made my own chai concentrate, bought a frother—which Sirius gave me plenty of shit for—and vanilla bean paste, not extract, for the foam. Mine’s even half vanilla protein shake instead of milk, can’t even get that at the cafe.”

“It tastes amazing,” you tell him, going in for another sip. After having a moment to process his words, you add, “Sirius gave you shit for buying a frother?”

James shrugs, unbothered. “He thinks it’s girly. Lattes. His loss.”

“What’s girly is his hair care routine,” you grumble.

James barks a laugh, squeezing your knee. “That’s what I said! And he told me it cancels out because his hair gets him laid.”

“Of course, he did,” you snort.

He laughs along with you. He squeezes your knee again to signal his hand’s departure as he reaches for his mug. When he takes his first sip, he closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy it.

Your lips tug into a small smile. “So, this is your thing now, hm?” you ask, nudging his arm with your nose. “And I thought I was supposed to be the barista in the relationship.”

James chuckles from somewhere deep in his throat. The way that makes your head all fuzzy.

“Dunno, I’m obsessed with these. They’re so good. Might even be better than matcha.”

You lean away from him at once. “No, that’s blasphemous,” you say, shaking your head.

“You know what’s going on? This is to me what matcha is to you. This is my matcha.”

“Oh, come on,” you brush him off, reluctant to believe he could like this more than matcha.

“No, I’m serious. I’m sorry, baby, but this is joy in a cup for me,” he says, literally hugging his mug to his chest.

“No, I don’t like this. You sound crazy. We need to get you back on energy drinks.” For dramatic effect, you thrust your mug in his direction. “Get this away from me. This is sin, now.”

James laughs at your dramatics, taking your cup and putting both of them on the table.

You sink back into the bed, moving over to what’s usually James’ side of the bed to make room for him to join you.

He takes the hint, joining you under the covers, your heads sharing the Spider-Man pillow, his face close enough for your noses to brush.

“Sorry, angel,” he murmurs, running a hand through your hair. “Would it make you feel better if we go out and get you matcha?”

“No, I don’t wanna go anywhere. Wanna stay in bed.”

“I could go get it,” he’s quick to offer.

“No,” you protest immediately, clinging to him by his shirt and tucking your face in the crook of his neck.

He moves his hand from your hair to wrap his arm around you, his touch snaking up the back of your shirt—well, his shirt, actually, which you shamelessly stole last night even though you have plenty of your own in one of his drawers. He, of course, doesn’t mind. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you asked, loving to see you in his clothes.

“Don’t want you to go anywhere either.” Your voice comes out muffled against his skin. “I don’t need anything, I just want you.”

James’ heart swells at your words. “Yeah?” he murmurs, and you can hear the smile in his tone. “I’d stay like this all day if you wanted, angel,” he says softly, pressing you closer as he rubs soothing shapes against your skin.

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, nuzzling into his neck and pressing a kiss to his skin.

With your face hiding from the light in the crook of his neck and his hand gently rubbing your back, it doesn’t take long for you to doze off.

James stays awake, treasuring every peaceful breath against his neck. He could stay wrapped up in this moment forever, memorizing the gentle weight of you in his arms.

You’ll feel bad when you wake up and realize he’s been awake, stuck in your arms with nothing to do, but again, he doesn’t mind.

In this quiet morning light, with you sleeping soundly beside him, he has everything he could ever need.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[elieenaliak]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE — AND THEIR HOBBIES IN FREE HOURS.

amongst the many hobbies of your beautiful hard working husband, one of them stood out the most: racing. zayne drives with such grace, he probably would have received 16 missed calls from whole cast of fast furious asking him to be part of the next movie. treating patients with such patience by day, racing by night… what a man! He can afford it after all, so why not? he is the type to make you fresh orange juice with pulp in the morning and then go outside drift so effortlessly, it makes professional racers question their entire careers. he doesn't even need a coach—he learns purely through vibes and sheer elegance. he steps into a car, smells the air, analyses, feels it, does a couple of stretches, and suddenly it's like watching poetry in motion. you have no idea how he does it, you're not about to question a racer who hugs the apex like it's his favourite granny-who can explode- and still flips the softest, fluffiest pancakes before the next shift in hospital.

xavier, on the other hand, has the raw power for basketball but none of the coordination. you made him join the basketball club, this man had to do something sportif after all! though he got very passionate about basketball he could not play. his idea of a "drabble" is launching the ball into another building, and if you ask him to do a serve, he’ll literally twerk- he is serving after all?

he gets the hang of it eventually—almost a full year later, when everyone else has already moved on to their next hobby. now he’s just waiting for the basketball season to come back so he can finally convince everyone to play with him again. poor thing. you can find him standing outside the court with his basketball, looking like a stray dog waiting to be let inside.

sylus is… passionate about tennis. let's just leave it at that. he swings the racket like he's trying to destroy all his enemies along with it, and any unfortunate soul who dares to play against him ends up fearing for their life. And no, zendaya would NOT call him to join the cast of next challengers movie- he will still arrange it- every ball he hits sounds like gunfire, and the courts have a dedicated "sylus damage fund" because he’s broken so many rackets, fences, and possibly the willpower of a few umpires. he can not play, but he doesn't believe in "low peasant" talk - the racket he accidently sended to the orbit made scientists go insane. news headlines for the next month were "A RACKET SPOTTED IN SPACE!! ALIENS ARE REAL?!"

there’s also rafayel. or "rafayel-the-fashion" as he calls himself. the man who buys everything-everything- that is trending, both for you and himself. "We gotta slay honey" he tells you while buying latest glamour lois luivitton purses-not that you complaining. The man, the artist, the diva- he feels the aesthetic whenever he walks to any room and he adjusts to it, he buys closes which match with room design, he slayes.

"Design is soo gnarly an-" and now as soon as his art editor who he asked politely-made-to come to his house at 3am to discuss his new art piece he straight away indulges in description of the piece, untill he spots something, he stops, he squints, he watches, he observes- he notices something even lucifer would have diarrhea out of from.

"IS THAT FAKE CHANEL ON YOU?!" he shrieked in utter horror, falling to the nearest sofa, clutching to his chest. He couldn't believe it, he couldn't! the shear audacity! To come into his house in....in....this!- it is 3 am -"oh, I think I am having have heart attack or heart dead whatever you people call it!" he wailed "this is,th- I HOPE SOMEOME FARTS INTO YOUR BREATHING MACHINE WHEN YOU GET OLDER, YOU FASHION TERRORIST!!"

someone actually did fart into editors breathing machine years later- rafayel made sure of it.....

and finally, there's caleb, apart from his many hundred jet models collection, he buys you underwear. now, when he met you in university he knew- knew that he needs to be in charge of your underwear department. Though he restricted himself in takeover of such honourable post until you two got married.

you lost him in the mall? no, you didn't, he is in lingerie section, nodding at some cheetah print lingerie's like it was some soldiers doing admirable job in serving their country. he doesn't even ask for help, he knows. he knows what he is buying, what size he is buying, he feels it and he is not embarrassed, no. this man watched so many documentaries on "art of lingerie" you are surprised he doesn't even open his own business. you kind of found it cute until he crossed- bended- the line like now with his: "Baby maybe we just need to take one cup bigger so i can put my hands through it, yeah?"- people turned around passing by, eyes wide, desperately trying to not make eye contact.

your eye twitched, hell you think even you whole brain twitched. with voice which could be mistakenly taken for sweet you smiled "Caleb?"

"Yes, pipsqueak?"

"I have a gun on me"

"Yes. pipsqueak." though his poker face didn't match the way he clutched the bra of your size from the section, size bigger magically disappearing in air - he threw it across the shop, if he doesn't see it nobody sees it..

@uzmacchiato dividers!