#Tagging so it can be blocked - this is a lot I'm sorry

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

I'm aroacespec (and honestly confused about where I fall on that spectrum, but I do know I'm sex/romance favorable) and tbh my relationship with shipping is weird.

There are some ships I look at and I'm like "how can you see this as anything but romantic" and there are other ships where I'm like "okay but why do we have to ship them, can't they just be friends?" and it's almost always the total opposite of what the fandom majority's view is. For example, my Sonic "how can you see this as anything but romantic" ship is Espilver, and my "okay but why do we have to ship them, can't they just be friends?" ship is Silvaze.

I will say that something I've noticed is there tends to be a double-standard with allo people (specifically cishet people) when it comes to ships. You get a ton of "why can't they just be friends" with slash and femslash ships, but then those same people will ship a het pairing that look at each other in a single frame. I don't know if it's something that's more obvious to me because I'm gay myself (or even if it's more obvious because I'm aroacespec specifically), but it's weird to me. I choose to look at it this way: if this was a het ship with the same character dynamic, would people still say "why can't they just be friends?"

That's not to say aroace people are in the wrong for looking at a pairing and saying "can't they just be friends? Why do we have to ship them?" but with a lot of cishet people specifically, it feels like there's a lot of people perpetuating a borderline homophobic double-standard. I get it when it's something like Scott and Jay from Ninjago, but so many masc characters' dynamics are canonically given homoerotic or even just romantic undertones (a good example of this being, in my opinion, Sonadow; there's not an almost 3 and a half hour long Sonadow iceberg video on YouTube for no reason. As far as I'm aware it's the longest Sonic-related iceberg video on YouTube that covers exclusively official content) which is why people tend to gravitate towards those ships. I could do an entire analysis on why gay ships tend to have bigger followings than het ships but if I did this would get too long lmao. I will once again point to the Sonadow iceberg video though.

I generally use shipping to explore my own relationship with my aroace-ness, and usually I do that using characters I either headcanon as aroace in some way or who are canonically aroace, because I can relate to those experiences. It's kinda weird to me to see other aroace people acting like doing that is bad or wrong, because usually that's what people are doing, and even if that's not what's going on, fanfiction doesn't affect canon.

There is no right or wrong way to participate in fandom (unless you're harassing people and/or actively putting people in danger), no matter what you identify as.

Basically: People should be allowed to do what they want, if something bothers you that bad there's nothing wrong with blocking a person or tag.

(I might've gotten off subject a few times, sorry lol)

Okay, that thing about blocking tags inspired me to look through my blocked tags to see what ships I've blocked and here's my petty aroace thoughts on all of them without naming names lmao

Fanon het ship. They've never given any indication that they know of each other's existence. Her girlfriend is right there.

Canon het ship. Had the chemistry of two wet paper bags. Literally just shoehorned in there because god forbid any story exist without a romance subplot.

Semi-canon het ship. I'm mostly neutral about them. Just unnecessary.

Fanon mlm ship. Literally brothers?? I don't care that one of them is adopted, they grew up together?? As brothers??

Fanon het ship. I don't care what you call their relationship. You can call it professional, platonic, familial, just please don't call it romantic.

Semi-canon het ship. Again, completely unnecessary. God forbid a man convince a woman to become a villain without there being ~attraction~

Fanon het ship. She is 14?? And he is like 30??

Semi-semi-canon het ship. He did have a crush on her when he was, like, 14 but he's a grown adult now and she's the most lesbian-looking woman to ever exist and they're the most found family siblings to ever find a family

Fanon het ship. LET MEN AND WOMEN BE FRIENDS. LET MEN AND WOMEN BE PLATONICALLY MARRIED.

Fanon mlm ship. I personally see them more as brothers. But whatever floats your boat.

Semi-canon het ship. Just really shoehorned. I don't like the woman very much. I liked her more when she was allowed to be a badass without being a ~flirty badass~

Fanon mlm ship. Again. Adopted brothers. Gross.

Canon het ship. I've seen many things from this director. He's a creative man. He couldn't think of a way to move the plot forward without a smooch?? He couldn't create a series that didn't have an unnecessary love triangle??

Semi-canon het ship. The man isn't coming back for S2 and boy folly gee am I glad

Fanon het ship. Not my cup of tea. Just let them be friends

good lord I have a lot more ship tags blocked than I thought

anyway, this is your daily reminder to just block stuff you don't want to see and move on

[kakusu-shipping]

Question, just... in general.

Why do so many F/O Imagine Blogs with Proship DNI tag their clearly romantic imagines with "Familial F/O"? Do they mean this in an incest way or not?

[kyouka-supremacy]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[motherhenna]

wanted to share an almost full-body pic for the first time in probably almost a decade because for once I'm actually proud of how I'm progressing and think that the changes I'm making will end up being permanent bc I'm genuinely enjoying them. Plus, the few selfies I have shared over the last five years have been very photoshopped and at flattering angles, so I feel like most of y'all don't know what I actually look like. So this is me in my children's theater teacher fit last monday!

I'm 17 lbs down from my highest ever weight, but my trainer thinks I'm probably up at least ten to fifteen lbs in muscle. I'm cooking my own food, eating more reasonable portions, and going to the gym at least five times a week because I want to, not because I feel shame or guilt. And now that I'm working as hard as I am, I'm a lot less triggered by looking at new pictures of myself because I know I'm doing my best. I'm still obese, and probably will be for awhile more, but I'm starting to appreciate what I look like and feel like. And hopefully it'll just get better from here!

[athousandblessings]

A dumb me problem

Taking a mini break bc it turns out there's a difference between when I'm "meh" about a snzblr fav and when I really really REALLY don't like it, and I'm getting out of proportion hatefeels about myself about it, and like 90 percent of my feed is hazbin rn so uh.....think I'll take a lil walk in the woods or something. Sorry guys, idk why I can't be normal about this ONE fandom in particular. 😭

[nicnevans]

not gonna put op on blast but a post just crossed my dash that's just. this

and i'm sorry but if your block list is in the hundreds that's not normal and maybe you need to block less and just get comfortable with the fact that other peoples' thoughts and opinions might brush against yours in ways you don't immediately like. talk about it. consider their perspectives. broaden your horizons. if your block list is in the hundreds the only common denominator there is you. there comes a point were curating your space is just an excuse for controlling it and trying to control who can and cannot interact with you and your close friends and that just isn't healthy, and it certainly isn't a healthy way to engage with a fandom space which is by definition a shared one.

[dandyshucks]

blinks tiredly. i decide "hm maybe i should try to expand my circle and step outside of it a little, lets go look at the main community tags" and im just greeted with a bunch of edgelords who think saying "fiction doesn't affect reality, don't like don't read" is peak activism and "fighting censorship". head in my hands. this is partially why i do not ever go into the community tags, my nervous system cannot handle blocking fifty weirdos every single day just so i can have a normal experience in the community tags hfdsjkl

[thetarttfuldickhead]

So if there was a bro-off of some type between Sam/Jamie and Colin/Isaac and Beard/Ted, who would come out on top as #1 bros? I feel like Jamie and Isaac and Beard as the dark horse in particular would be down fight over who “wins” at being friends, Sam and Colin and Ted are coming along on this ride whether they want to or not.

Jamie and Beard would absolutely get into the whole ‘who’s the bestest best friend’, but to be honest I’m not fully convinced it’d be Isaac rather than Colin in that race… Though to be fair, I’m not fully convinced either Isaac OR Colin would be too bothered about it. Jamie and Beard now… ah, that could get rough! That could get ugly! Proper war like, all dirty tricks and such, while sweet sunshine beams Ted and Sam look on in bemused concern. (Sam: Should we intervene, Coach? Ted: Nah. It’ll be worse if we try to stop them.)

What does a bro-off entail, anyway? Are there that type of games when you are supposed to answer questions about each other correctly? Maybe guess each others’ calves from a bunch of other guys' calves? Lots of coordination and cooperation tests, like running around with your leg tied to your bro's leg? Oh, God, they’d stage a bloody Olympiad, wouldn’t they? Several different games, everyone’s invited to participate although Jamie and Beard both knows it’s all about them – only in the end the prize goes to Jan Maas and Dani or some such. Jamie and Beard are outraged and humiliated and need to go drown their sorrows together and maybe play some board games. (Ted and Sam try to join but are not allowed to, due to accusations of them not actually doing their best in the competitions.)

For real, though? Ted and Beard has this. Bros to outlast all bros. I mean, give the others a decade or two to grow into it, they might be able to compete, but for now? Bearded Ted has it all day, every day, until Judgement Day.

Sorry, Jamie. Go cry to Roy about it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[plulp]

guys i'm so sorry i write so much i promise i'm trying to get better at it 😣 i just have so much to say all the time but i promise i'll try to tone it down since i don't want to clutter your dashes

[hazbinhotelconfessions]

I try not to be bothered by the extent to which the fandom ships Alastor, but it drives me just a little insane. Alastor would have to outright, on screen, say that the idea of sex or romance with anyone disgusts him before the fandom would actually acknowledge his sexuality as canon because they refuse to see subtext.

I’ve seen too many people say things to the tune of “why is he ace? I wanna see him get nasty” or “oh I can fix him up real good 😏” or “I know he’s ace but have you considered how hard it is to not want him?” (All of these are actual things I’ve seen fans say). Those statements REEK of aphobia

The block button is your best weapon here anon. I'm sorry you were made to feel uncomfortable in the fandom. Shipping Alastor should be something fun and silly as all shipping is, not an excuse to hate on aro/ace people

Remember that blocking or filtering is not mean and it's actually the best thing you can do for your own enjoyment of a fandom!!

[toomanywordsnllines]

dot.

[emometalhead]

Ashley!! Curious to know what you think of Electric Touch and also what the wider FOB fandom thinks of it :)

I am entirely obsessed!! I've been trying to equally listen to the entire album, and I've failed spectacularly lol. Electric Touch is easily my most listened to on the whole album.

I think Taylor and Patrick's voices really suit each other! The bridge drives me crazy!! They complement each other so well!! Plus even beyond the vocals I like the lyrics!! "All I know is this could either break my heart or bring me back to life" is a feeling I can totally understand despite never being in a relationship.

Obviously I'm biased toward both parties, but I can safely say this song did not disappoint me! It's making me want a full collaboration between Fall Out Boy (the whole band) and Taylor even more than I already did. In the meantime, I'm happy to enjoy Electric Touch!!

I've lowkey been avoiding seeking out opinions from the wider FOB fandom. The Swemos (Swiftie emos) seem really excited about it! Like some people want it to play at Emo Nite events even. I've seen a couple older FOB fans say they like it. Some FOB fans are upset that Electric Touch is FOB's top song on Spotify rn, but I think they should have anticipated this. Also I know some people complained that the song is too pop, but again I don't know why they would expect otherwise. So long story short, I'm not sure what the consensus is or if there is a consensus! It would hurt my heart a little bit too much to see FOB fans trashing Taylor or vice versa.

Thank you so much for asking, and I'm sorry in advance about the lengthy tags!!!!! Taylor and Fall Out Boy are not subjects I'm capable of being concise about!!!!!

[dirt-goth]

The surprising but real correlation between me being trans and me pissing in public

[knightjpg]

Brick by Brick

And like a dog who's learned a new trick Simon rings your bell the next day. Wasn't happy with how he left it, and wasn't that faucet leaking? He's got plenty of spare wood in his shed, don't you worry. What's that about the boiler making a weird noise? He'll take a look at it, might have something for the draft in the hallway too. Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench.

tags: construction worker simon/neighbour reader

part 1 | part 2

Summer is the worst time of year for construction work outside. Up early before the birds are awake to try and beat the heat, arriving on site at six or earlier with bleary eyes and creaky joints from the day before. It means coming home at four or five with lots of day left to get through yet without the will or energy to do anything beside shower, eat, watch some telly, and sleep. 

The pay is good and it beats sitting in a cramped office all day, but when Simon gets home with aching knees and the thrum of a headache at the back of his skull it's hard to remember why on Earth he chose the career he's in. He's drenched in sweat, large dark patches adorning his pits and back. 

It's one of those days where very little can make him stray from his commute straight to home to collapse into his big falling-apart chair, but today it's not really up to him. A large moving truck blocks his driveway. The faded company logo against dirty white overtakes the entire view of his windshield, though Simon can see the back doors are still swung open. No one to attend to it, though. 

Simon noticed the FOR SALE! sign had gone, of course. Remembers feeling vaguely pleased, even, that the home next to his wouldn't be empty anymore, because he of all people knows exactly how quickly places can fall apart without anyone tending to it. But right now all he feels is tired, and hot, and really fucking annoyed. Just when he's clicked his belt loose to get out of the car and see if the dolt belonging to the truck is anywhere to be found, voices carry from the open front door. 

“...last. I'm afraid it's a little heavy, though, so maybe we should get the boxes out first?” 

And out steps the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Hair tied up, tight little top, and shorts that give him ample view of your legs.  

Maybe summer's not so bad after all. 

You're talking to a bloke wearing a uniform that matches the moving truck and who looks flushed in the face from exertion. As soon as you clock Simon's car, though, you stop mid-sentence in surprise, and then quickly walk to him, brows furrowed apologetically. 

“Oh, I'm so sorry—you're trying to get past us, aren't you?” Simon gives you a nod, and you turn back to the mover. “Would you mind moving the truck up a little? I don't want it to be in the way.” 

There's precious little parking space ahead, so Simon rolls down his window and calls out to you, “Jus’ backing up a few yards s’fine.” He gestures to his driveway so you know that's where he's headed, and you flash him a smile and a thumbs-up in understanding. 

The truck is moved, Simon parks his car, and you pull another heavy-looking box from the cube. You never reach your new doorstep with it; Simon steps in and lifts it from your hands. You blink up at him, lashes fluttering sweetly with surprise. “Oh—are you sure? It's heavy...!” 

One corner of Simon's mouth tugs up. Tired as he is it weighs next to nothing, and he can't resist holding it with one arm, holding out the other. 

“Can take ‘nother if you need.” 

You laugh and assure him this is quite enough, then jog back to the truck while Simon pushes past the half-open door to his new neighbour's home. 

It's a mess, of course. Piles of boxes, scattered furniture, rolled-up carpets. Simon puts the box down in the living room, then saunters back outside to lift another from your hands. He does the same with the couch; the mover is struggling and Simon doesn't trust him not to let it fall and crash. And you're such a little thing. Just doesn't feel right, watching you rush around and struggle without stepping in. 

With Simon's help it's quick work. The mover thanks Simon before driving off, but he's not really listening. There's much more important things to pay attention to. 

You're pretty. Cheeks flushed from exertion, breathing hard, flyaway hairs from your ponytail sticking up in odd directions. Simon has to suppress the urge to smooth them away. 

"Thanks so much for the help,” you tell him earnestly. “I'm sorry we were in the way—we thought we'd have a little more time before people started coming home from work.” 

“S’alright,” Simon says. It's nearing evening, now, the sky above you glowing in pale pink and oranges hues. The little smatter of trees across from you rustles with a gust of summer wind.  

You introduce yourself and insist on giving Simon your number “in case there's ever anything you need.” Simon's more concerned about a young woman living all on her own but takes your number all the same, watching your pretty little fingers tap it in on his phone. 

“I mostly work from home, but I'm very quiet and boring,” you tell him with a smile. “You don't have to worry about noise.” 

For some reason that isn't the selling point it should be. When Simon stands inside his hallway, house empty and dark and quiet, he wishes he still lived in a shitty apartment with thin walls on the bad side of Manchester. Maybe then he'd hear your footsteps, or better yet, your voice. Instead the only thing waiting for him at home is silence. Heavy and thick, where he's ripped away from sweet sunshine and plunged underwater. 

-

Simon is halfway to falling asleep on the couch when the bell rings. He groans, drags a hand over his face, and glances up at the TV. The football match is still going. The camera pans over a cheering crowd, their cries distant and quiet. 

He mutes the thing entirely and heaves himself up to open the door. Swear to God, if this is the fucking salesman again... 

“Hi there.” 

You give Simon a little finger wave, your other hand cradling a round oven dish. When you shift on your feet the protective foil on top rustles noisily. 

You look a little more put together than you did yesterday—rested, showered, fed. Just as pretty. 

Although, speaking of fed... 

“Alright?” Simon asks, eyes on the oven pan. He's only catching a faint whiff of something, but whatever it is smells really fucking good. His stomach reminds him that the only thing in his fridge are a couple cans of beer.  

You nod and lift the dish with a shy little grin. “Yeah. Um. I wanted to say thanks again, for yesterday. And I wanted to test out my oven, so...” 

You hold the dish out for him to take. Simon's fingers brush yours, large meaty paws easily twice the size of your own. When he peels back the foil you add, “Shepherd's pie. I thought about cookies, but I wasn't sure if you'd like those.” 

The scent hits him, then, rich and hearty and buttery smooth. The dish is still a little warm. 

Fuck. When was the last time he ate something homemade? 

“No, I'll eat anything,” he says, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. He hasn't showered yet. Must look a nightmare. Does he stink? “Thanks.” 

Your whole face lights up, and Simon's neck feels hot. He averts his eyes to avoid your gaze and pretends to inspect the pie instead. Jesus, what is he, twelve? “I'm glad. I'll leave you to it, then.” 

D’you want to come in for a drink?  

It's on the tip of his tongue, but he can't get the words out quite right and gives you a brusque nod, watching you walk back to your own home before closing his door all the way. 

He eats at his kitchen table and finishes the whole thing in one go. Chases bits of flakey crust with his finger, licks up every leftover crumb. The meat is tender and juicy and for a while after the only things he smells is golden-brown potatoes seasoned with rosemary. 

He mourns it when it's gone, of course. Has half a mind to go over right now and ask if your cooking is for hire—Simon can't remember the last time he felt satisfied. When he ate not just for the sake of fuel or convenience but because someone wanted him to have something nice, something special. Is it special? Is he special? Are you going around the neighbourhood handing out cookies and pies to just anyone? 

Simon's sigh is loud in the silence and sticks to the kitchen walls. 

The pre-made frozen meals are fine, of course. Empty plastic containers fill up the rubbish bin. They're easy and cheap and most days Simon's glad just to have something warm in his stomach.  

And yet. 

The next day Simon stands at your door at six in the evening sharp, holding the clean dish in his hands. You invite him in for a cup of tea, because unlike him you have good manners, and you sheepishly apologise for the stacks of boxes everywhere. 

“S’alright,” Simon says, carefully manoeuvring around a large pile of books. “I don't mind.” 

And he doesn't, though he does feel like a bull in a china shop. Large and much too coarse for the little tea cup you hand him while the kettle whistles on the stove. 

“I'm afraid I don't have much to go with it,” you say with a flutter of your hands. “Do you like ginger snaps? I think I've got a pack somewhere.” 

You don't wait for his answer and pry open one of the cupboards. First come the ginger snaps, then the box of Earl Grey, which you hold up to him with a triumphant smile. “Unpacked the important stuff first.” 

Simon frowns and jerks his chin to the cupboard. “S’it stuck?” 

“Oh—yeah. They all are.” You give the wood a little knock. “It'll take me some time to get to fixing everything. The house went for a good price, but only ‘cause it needs some love.” You give him a rueful smile and get up, wiping your hands on your thighs. “I'm not all that handy, so I'll have to take it bit by bit.” 

Simon rises before you finish your sentence. "Let me see.” 

“Oh, no, it's okay. It's not a big deal, really—” 

Simon crouches down, slowly, to spare his knees, and tests the hinges. The wood is rotten in certain places, the hinges old and rusted. Rather than fixing it up it should be replaced entirely. You really better had gotten this place for good money, because this will take more than a bit of elbow grease to repair. He prods at the hinges, tuts, and looks up at you. 

“Ready to fall apart, this one. You said they're all like this?” 

You nod, worry creasing your brow. “I—yes. Well, the kitchen is. The bathroom seems alright. Is it worse than I thought?” 

“Might be. You have anyone look at this?” 

You shake your head. “I'm starting to feel silly about it now, but I was going to look up how to do it myself.” 

Simon straightens. “I'll go get my kit.” 

-

It's not as bad as he feared. Two cabinets need tearing down completely, but the others are worth saving. Simon warns you the repair job will fuck the wood, but you tell him it's no problem; you'll paint over it anyway. 

You feed him tea and ginger snaps while he works, asking him several times if he wouldn't like a break, hasn't he done a lot already? You feel terrible about having him work on his day off. Didn't he say he worked construction? He must be so tired, poor man. You insist he stay for dinner. “You've been so helpful—it's the least I could do.” 

Simon takes a breather to watch you cook. Chicken, pasta, summer salad. The sun sinks lower and hits you straight on from the kitchen window, painting the edges of you a dazed red-gold. An angel's halo. 

“You big on reading, then?” 

You turn down the heat and put a lid over the pan to join him at the table. Simon's eyeing the many books strewn about on top of boxes that say “pans” and “kitchen supplies”. Le Morte D’Arthur. Histories of the Kings of Britain. Beowulf. There's even one that prompts a vague, long-forgotten memory from his school days— The Canterbury Tales.  

“I am. Always have been.” You nod to the books. “I teach at university—medieval literature. But I'm working on my own research on the side.” 

Simon lets out a low whistle. His pretty bird is a clever one. Smarter than him, that's for sure. He might be big and strong but he's got bricks for brains. 

That's what his dad always used to say, anyway—that he's stupid. Those always were his kinder moments. 

“That explains all the books y’got.” 

“There sure are a lot of them, aren't there? I swear moving really makes you realise just how much stuff you own...” You shake your head. “I'll have to get a bigger bookcase.” 

“Think it's impressive.” 

Your eyes crinkle with a smile. “Not as impressive as knowing how to fix my cabinets! I don't know how I would've managed by myself.” You hop up from your seat to check the food, then ask over your shoulder, “Is that something you do a lot for work, too? Carpentry and the like?” 

Simon shakes his head. “We do the heavy lifting. Clearing a place out, laying the foundation. Johnny—my coworker, he's mostly on machinery. Kyle does transport and plumbing. I do the heavier handiwork.” 

You hum and start plating the food while asking him more questions. Is the pay good? Is his boss fair? Are his coworkers nice? 

Price's fairly strict is what he is, Simon answers, and you laugh again. He likes that. Likes that he gets you to do that. 

He wolfs down a plate of his pasta and devours the chicken. It's fragrant, roasted with lemon and thyme, bursts between his teeth. He tells you more about Johnny, that he's a cocky bastard who likes playing with electricity way too much, but that he's also a loyal friend. That he's a hard worker—that all of them are. 

When his plate is empty and he's eyeing what's left in the pans you push them closer without saying anything, and prompt him to tell you about that time a plumbing line exploded and Kyle got soaked from tip to toe in disgusting gunk. He smelt like sewage water for weeks. 

Simon doesn't even realise how much he's talked until his throat starts feeling rougher than usual. You make it easy somehow. If he'd thought you would look down on him because of your own job he needn't have worried. You're not at all like what he imagines when he thinks of professors, none of the stuffy superiority complex he's used to weathering when people find out all he does all day is chafe his fingers on hard cement.  

Maybe you're just good at faking it, but he doubts it. The sparkle in your eyes when you listen to him so intently has to be real. 

You send him home with a warm thanks and dessert, and Simon feels something in his chest lurch when you peer up at him through your lashes in the doorway, smiling and sweet. Can't remember the last time he went out for dates. Can't remember having the time or energy for it. 

And like a dog who's learned a new trick Simon rings your bell the next day. Wasn't happy with how he left it, and wasn't that faucet leaking? He's got plenty of spare wood in his shed, don't you worry. What's that about the boiler making a weird noise? He'll take a look at it, might have something for the draft in the hallway too. 

Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench. 

There are days when it's hard, of course. Simon is only human, and spending days and days on sizzling hard concrete would wring anyone dry. The project is coming along nicely, but at the height of summer there's plenty of times when even the promise of your smile isn't enough to keep him from falling asleep on his couch—often on an empty stomach. 

But during the weekends he rings your bell dutifully. Six o’clock becomes something sacred in his mind, sweet relief after praying on his knees for hours smoothing out cement. It gets to the point where he turns down Friday drinks with the guys more than once because he's got something to go home for now, his pretty little bird that's never once mentioned a boyfriend of any kind. 

“You really should let me pay you.” 

Simon gives you a look before pushing his large shoulders further into the cabinet under the bathroom sink. “Should be the one payin’ you. I know I'm doubling your grocery bill.” 

He eats more at your place than his own these days. It gives him incentive to rush through a shower, dress like something resembling a human, then wait at your doorstep to be let in. Wagging tail and everything. 

Your cheeks darken and you duck your head. “No, um... It makes me happy. To see you eat my cooking, I mean,” you confess a little shyly. “I feel like I'm the one getting everything out of this. I hope I'm not keeping you from—from spending time at home, or with your family.” 

“S’just me, love.” Simon pauses, pretends to inspect the pipes. “Less you don't want me coming ‘round anymore.” 

“No, no,” you say hastily. “No, I like—I like the company. Really.” Your voice softens. “And I'm not just saying that because I appreciate the help.” 

Simon exhales, shifts a little to accommodate the strain in his boxers, and holds his hand out for the screwdriver. 

[anisespice]

“ baby steps ” || tokyo rev.

continuation of this post.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, ANGST w/ comfort (mostly in mikey's), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be A LOT of errors :// mikey's is LONG, ran + sanzu's are silly goofy, mikey + sanzu's are a lil unhinged lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: can i just say thank y'all so much for showing "accidents happen" the love that i didn't think it would get, it was made on a whim so i'm so so so happy y'all enjoyed! i tagged as many as i could (or that tumblr would allow) sorry if i missed some of you :( thank you for your patience and let me know how you feel about this continuation format :) !! notes ii: also also, pt. 2 for "accidents happen" coming soon! notes iii: MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND I THOUGHT I LOST EVERYTHING BUT IT'S OKAY IT'S OKAY :'))))

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow , @captaincyberqueen , @cherryblossiren , @niragiswhore , @awkwardaardvarkforever , @valentsoup , @lovely212 , @miffysoo , @yandere-kouhai , @i-am-just-a-girl-ur-honor , @wisteriarose214 , @kindadolly , @yuwaimo , @sweetbella1221 , @simpingfor-wakasa , @sirachano0dles , @yutahg , @slowlikehonee , @blurpleuni-squid , @haruchiyoreen , @istanstraykidss , @loyard176 , @msluccapotato , @luv444lay , @backgroundcharactera , @jegelskeranime

Ever since you picked up your daughter, there’s been a hovering presence that wouldn’t go away no matter where you went. From the park, to the grocery store, all the way home it clung to you like a bad itch. Despite looking over your shoulder and being met without any sort of threat, that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling. And it only intensified when you received a knock on your front door.

You made a confused hum, checking the time on the microwave to confirm that it was indeed past the reasonable hour for potential visitors. Not to mention, you weren’t expecting anyone.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, instincts telling you that something wasn’t right, that your best option was to pretend you weren’t home. However, the person on the other side knew otherwise as they knocked on the door again, this time with more fervor. You inhaled sharply, taking hesitant steps towards the door until you were mere feet away from it. Eventually, you worked up the courage to look through the peephole, your brows furrowing in distress when all you could see was black—They were covering it. All the more reason not to open the door…

What if it’s a robber? Ridiculous, they don’t knock.

What if it’s just the neighbor? Why cover the peephole?

More and more did your mind swirl with endless possibilities, each one becoming less and less believable. Taking a long, deep breath, you doubled-checked the door-chain was on before slowly cracking it open. And as you attempted to peek through the sliver, nothing could’ve prepared you for the arm that forced its way through, startling you as you yelped, stumbling back as it made a grab at you.

Before you had the thought of shoving the door closed on the offender’s arm they grabbed the little chain, then yanked it clean out of the wall. To your terror, a dark hooded figure entered your home, head hung low, concealing their identity.

You began to hyperventilate, backing up to keep distance as they staggered further into your home before kicking the door closed behind them, effectively blocking you from the exit. Surely, someone heard your scream and would check in, or call the police. But, how long did you have before the intruder decided to make a move? Not to mention, your sleeping child just down the hall…

With that last thought in mind, you immediately steeled your nerves.

Even if you had to use your bare hands, you were going to do whatever it took to keep your baby out of harms way.

You reached for the closest weapon without taking your eyes off the figure, hands clasping onto a discarded umbrella that was leaned up against a closet door. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Taking a defensive stance, you prepared for what you assumed to be the inevitable.

“I-I don’t know who you are, or what you want…b-but if you don’t leave…my..my boyfriend will be home any minute! H-He knows how to fight, and he’ll fuck you up if you try anything!”

Your means of intimation fall on deaf ears. It were as if you hadn’t spoken at all. They just…stood there. Watching you from the darkness. That feeling, that hovering presence you’d been weary about all evening…there was no doubt in your mind it was because of this individual. Suddenly, they gave a watery chuckle, hand coming up to rub the lower half of their face as the chilling noise dissipated into soft snickers.

You sweatdropped. “I mean it! He’ll be here real soon, so you better get out of here before-”

“[_____]…” the figure finally rasped, voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t decipher in the moment. You froze, eyes widening.

“…How the hell do you know my name?”

Without much urgency, they stepped forward into the light. Beneath the warm glow, it took you mere seconds to recognize the person standing before you. You gasped, trembling hands dropping the umbrella, it landing with a harsh clatter. Soft, mortified hitches in your breath echoed through the small space, memories flashing before your eyes as you covered your gaping mouth.

“M.. Ma..” you whimpered, throat tightening. A shell of a man, who gazed upon you with stormy eyes flooded with tears at the mere sight of you.

He gave another strained laugh, muttering to himself as he soaked you all in. “Needed to know.. Needed to know it was really you…”

Mikey eyed you up, intensely, eerily silent as he did so. Then, he took in the surroundings, the warmth, the interior, the smell of dinner—It truly felt like a home. A bitter pill to swallow once he reminded himself that you built it without him.

His sharp gaze returned to your stunned expression. He sneered.

“Must’ve been easy for you. To forget me and move on, just like that. Like I was nothing.”

You blinked, taken aback. All you could do was remain speechless, cemented to the ground with thoughts and questions racing in your head. Now matter how many times you opened your mouth, no sound would come out aside from choked whimpers.

“Do you know…how long I’d been searching for you? Been mourning for you?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “When you left, I thought… I thought someone had taken you. That I lost you all because I was too stubborn to say I’m sorry…”

As he spoke, Mikey slowly closed the space between you. The more he came into the light, the more you could see how the years had treated him. His cheekbones were more pronounced, the dark circles under his eyes as well. His lips were dry, cracked, his fair skin now ghoulishly pale. If not for the black hoodie you would’ve mistaken him as such; ghost of your past.

Your shoulders shook, hands hovering over your face as you gaped in disbelief. He’d been looking for you?

That night, that stupid fight you could barely remember…he made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. He pushed you away. Pushed so hard that you almost believed he really wouldn’t have cared if you dropped dead. You knew he didn’t mean it, knew it was just another dark impulse…but none of that mattered when all your pregnancy tests came back positive just hours prior.

That night, you made the decision for the sake of your daughter. And also, for his sake. At the time, you were certain he wasn’t ready to be a father. He was quick to rage, merciless, losing himself to the darkness you tried to protect him from. If you had stayed, you were certain Mikey would’ve never forgiven himself if he lost control in front of his own flesh and blood, if the child grew to resent him for something he struggled to control.

You thought you were doing him a favor…but it appears to have done the opposite.

“And this whole time…you’ve been here, alive. Playing fucking house with someone else.”

You stiffened. Someone else? Your visible confusion only irritated him further.

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You said it yourself. Too bad he won’t be coming home anytime soon. I’ve already got Sanzu and the Haitanis looking around for the bastard. And when they find him, I’ll make him regret sticking his filthy dick inside you.”

Confusion morphed into realization. You did threaten him with said hypothetical boyfriend…But, that was before you knew it was him!

“Oh, Manjiro…” you whispered. He glared, scorned.

“Don’t you dare pity me. I mean, you got the family you always wanted, right? So who cares who it was with, right? Congratu-fucking-lations.”

You shook your head, exhaling deeply as you held your face in your hands. For years, he thought you dead. Then, when he received word of your appearance, he finds you with child. And not once did he consider that child to be his? It’s like…he couldn’t fathom the thought.

If only he had looked just a little bit closer, he would’ve seen that she had his eyes. How they resembled those pools of ink that used to shine with so much hope back in his youth, so playful and full of love…those same eyes that now gazed upon you with contempt.

It stung.

He thought so low, not only of himself, but of you as well.

Taking a deep breath to reel in your emotions, tears began to well up in your eyes. He assumed they were tears for your doomed lover, further breaking his heart as Mikey clenched his fists to the point of nearly drawing blood. Luckily, even though you struggled to find the right words, someone else happily found them for you.

“Papa..?”

Both of you instantly drew your attention on the toddler standing near the kitchen, one fist clutching her blanket while the other rubbed the sleep from her eye. You glanced at Mikey, and he was stiller than stone. His once dead-stare had morphed into what could only be described as incredulous. Surely, he heard her incorrectly…

With a sniffle, you crouched down to address her, offering a soft grin as you nodded earnestly. “That’s right, sweetheart. Papa’s finally come home.”

The little girl blinked sleepily, taking a second to reboot. But, as soon as the words registered, a bright smile stretched across her face as she excitedly rushed towards Mikey, throwing herself onto his legs and hugging them like a koala as she chirped, “Papa, home!”

Said man hobbled a bit at the force, arms windmilling as he caught himself to keep from falling backwards. He didn’t know what to do with himself, especially when those big, round pools of ink opened and stared right up into his soul. Mikey’s heart nearly stopped. With a hitch in his breath, the gangster did everything he could to hold his composure, looking between you and the child as you both gazed at him with so much warmth…it was suffocating.

Sensing he was overwhelmed, you reached down to scoop up the bubbly bundle, holding her close as you eyed Mikey, apprehensively.

He resembled a cornered animal—Muscles stiff, jaw tight, eyes wild. After a moment, Mikey began to slowly back away into the shadows of your home, conflicted, devastated. It wasn’t until his back hit the door did he eventually fall to his ass, of which caused your child to giggle at how silly he was being. However, all you could do was hold back tears, watching as the reality started to weigh down on a man who just discovered he was a father.

Nervous, you gently explained. “I didn’t leave you because of our spat, Jiro…and I never moved on. I just…thought that I’d be doing more harm than good sticking around when I found out I was pregnant…I didn’t want to add any more stress on your plate, so I…”

Mikey didn’t respond. He sat there, stare vast and unfocused. But, you knew he hung on to every word. So you continued. “I wanted to tell you. But…I wasn’t sure how. At the time, I believed you had stopped caring about me altogether. And to hear you’d been looking for me, I-I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you harbored all that guilt. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

Your daughter wiggled around in your hold, making small grunts in complaint. Her eyes were trained on his figure huddled in the dark, wanting to be acknowledged, wanting his attention. “Papa!”

Mikey flinched. He focused his gaze on the two you, haloed by the light emitting from the living room. You both were like salvation, reaching down to a broken sinner…How could she want anything to do with him? When he had missed so much already…

To keep from accidentally dropping her, you placed your daughter back on the ground, watching wearily as she wobbled all the way to Mikey, blanket in tow. You weren’t worried about him hurting her, far from it…if anything, he appeared to be the fragile one.

Eventually, she made it to her destination, standing before him with a curious, but eager expression as she rested a hand on his knee. Mikey watched her, took in all of her features, every last detail as he engraved it to memory. She was beautiful, just like her mother. One would think his genes didn’t stand a chance. But the eyes. That was all him. From his mother to his older brother to himself, there was no doubt in his mind that those were Sano eyes.

His lower lip quivered, reaching out hesitantly to caress her cheek. She didn’t cower away, merely babbled as she began patting his knee, allowing his thumb to rub over her chubby cheek. You clasped your hands over your mouth, growing even more emotional at the delicate moment. Mikey looked enamored already, eyes subtly sparkling from what you could see as they interacted.

“I-I told her stories, about you. And I made sure to show her photos, too. Old ones, but still you nonetheless. I wanted her to know who her father truly was. Despite everything else…”

Your daughter cooed, then placed her blanket in Mikey’s lap before climbing into it. Mikey didn’t dare move, rigid as she made herself comfortable. He looked up at you, looking for guidance, for reassurance. Your encouraging smile was enough for him to hesitantly place his hands on her small back for support, carefully adjusting so that she was stable. She laid her head on his chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, sighing contentedly.

And, for the first time in years, he smiled.

When you hadn’t seen her familiar pigtails bobbing around, or heard any of her excited chatter with the receptionist up front, worry couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt the moment you realize…your daughter wasn’t here.

As soon as the meeting looked like it was wrapping up, you politely excused yourself from the room. Masking your worry wasn't too difficult, but there's no doubt a couple people might've noticed the spring in your step as you exited. One of them being Rindou Haitani. He watched you speed down the hall with mild interest, corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly as he thumbed around on his phone beneath the table. Having been updating his older brother during the meeting while he was on his smoke break, he was more than eager to inform him of the storm that was no doubt heading his way.

Little did the younger Haitani know, he was already dealing with one.

"And then, Haruka-kun tries to take Momo-kun's bento box because she had cuter animal shapes, but Momo-kun already said no, and so Haruka-kun pushes Momo-kun, and then tries to take it! But I pushed him and hit him with my fist, like this," she clenched up her tiny fist and held it up to Ran before striking down on his forearm with all her might. It didn't even pitch. "Like that."

The lavender-eyed man merely gazed upon her with mirth. "Did you now?"

"Mmhm! And teacher got so mad, and said that she would tell Ma about me fighting, but she's stupid because Ma didn't pick me up today, and I told Haruka-kun if he snitches, I'll beat 'em up!"

Ran lowly whistled. "Quite the little menace, ain'tcha?"

She pumped her fists. "Yeah!" Then, she paused, holding a finger to her chin in thought. "Wait...what's a menace?"

"Ah, something you inherited from your old man." He ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure. Though her innocent jab earlier regarding his age still hit a sore spot, he was starting to like the sound of it. She, on the other hand, wasn't convinced.

"I already told you; Ma was on her happy juice when she said that. She said not to believe anything she says when she's on happy juice. It makes her do silly things."

Ran chuckled. He knew that all too well. The little girl wouldn't be in this world if not for your inability to hold your liquor. But judging based on how you've raised her so far, clearly you made the right decision keeping him in the dark.

He'll admit, he wasn't the best in terms of commitment. Throughout his day to day, Ran just didn't have the energy. With being in Bonten, keeping an eye out for his younger brother, handling business, dealing with numbskulls and disposing of their bodies, there was never a time to even consider settling down. One-night stands and on and off flings were the easiest choice. At least, until he stumbled upon you.

You were the whole package and more. Classy, independent, witty, and a looker to top it all off. When Bonten started collaborating with the organization you worked in, he couldn't help but to be drawn to you—Like a moth to a flame. It started out as the occasional bantering, trying to one-up the other, catch them off guard. Ran was smooth with his words but could never quite beat your sharp tongue. Thus, things escalated to something more flirtatious. Harmless, but it didn't take long before the months of tension between the both of you began boiling over...and throwing alcohol into the mix, it was the first time Ran finally felt like he had the upper hand. Seeing how poorly you handled just a few glasses of wine, it endeared him. Seeing a piece of you that no one else had the privilege to witness. Your sloppy side, the clumsy, whiny, touchy side. After that long, passionate night beneath the sheets, the one time you and Ran allowed yourselves the space to be vulnerable with one another...you found yourself pregnant. And Ran found himself being nonethewiser.

He wonders, if he hadn't left the next morning and completely ghosted you...would you have kept him in the picture?

Suddenly, his phone dings. Reaching back to pull it from his back pocket, Ran half expected it to just be another update on the meeting or Rindou cursing at him to hurry his ass back inside. But, it wasn't that at all. And at the sound of your kitten heels rushing out of the building and halting at the top of the steps, Ran didn't even need to look up to know who was glowering down from them.

"Hey, Ma! Guess what, the purple man isn't such a meanie after all!"

Ran snorted, finally looking up from his phone to greet the woman who not only still had his heart, but evidently his first child. You, on the other hand, weren't so thrilled to see him.

"Rika. Wait inside. Ma's got some words for the purple man."

He smirked. "Wanna say 'em over a glass of wine?"

"You son of a-!"

"Bad word!" Your daughter covered her ears. You flushed, your composure nearly slipping just by being in his prescence. Ran, immediately seeing the opportunity, teasingly pouts at you whilst covering her tiny hands with his larger ones, shielding her.

"Honey, please, not in front of the child. Can't have her repeating those dirty words at school, can we?"

You fumed, speaking through clenched teeth. "Haitani, as soon as I get her in this building, away from you, I swear to God, I'm gonna wring your neck."

He hummed, amused. "Well. Guess she didn't get her violent side from me after all. Speaking of which, did you know at school today-"

"Hey! No snitching!"

“...What did you say?” 

You were hoping you heard the teacher wrong. Surely it was just your exhaustion taking the wheel. But, when her kind smile didn’t falter, nor did her gushes for the supposed “adorable display”, you immediately grew suspicious.

While heading home from work, you went to pick up your children from daycare. And when you arrived, the teacher merely informed you that it was already taken care of by your very handsome and very devoted husband. 

“I-I think you’re mistaken. My boyfriend and I aren’t married…”

The teacher, finally coming back down to earth, tilted her head in confusion. “Eh? You aren’t?” 

“Did he…say we were?” 

“Well, no. I just assumed since it was easy to tell who he was here for. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.”

You choked on your spit.  Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.

You did everything in your power to keep from strangling the poor woman. Sure, she didn’t do anything wrong per say…but she sure did make a grave error. And your struggle to restrain your intrusive thoughts must’ve shown on your face from the way she placed a concerned hand on your arm. “Are you alright, miss? You look like you’re about to faint.”

“M-Mhm, yep, great, just peachy.” You squeaked through clenched teeth, sweatdrop on your forehead. “Could you um…confirm something for me?”

“Uh.? Er, sure. I’ll try my best.”

With tense shoulders and a tight smile, you asked, “Their…father…did his mouth have two scars in the corners?”

The teacher blinked, confused. Shouldn’t you already know that answer yourself?, she was probably thinking. And she would be right; you did know. But her simple, hesitant nod was the final nail in the coffin that was your delusion—Haruchiyo Sanzu had found you. And to make matters worse, he had the children.

Your smile faltered, twitching ever so slightly. Covering it with a forced chuckle, you cried, “Oh, that’s..wonderful! He’s always been self conscious about them, and I’m j-just.. beaming with joy that he’s embracing them more. Have a nice evening, Ms. Yuki.”

The teacher didn’t get a chance to respond as you quickly turned on your heel and began speed walking home. You’d apologize for your abrupt exit another day…right now there were more important matters to worry about. For instance—How on earth did Sanzu find you? How did he know about the twins and where they were? Oh, God…did he know about Satoru?

Dialing him up a few times only for the calls to go straight to voicemail weren’t reassuring in the slightest, having you rush across oncoming traffic just so you could avoid any further delays for your fraying nerves. You could see your apartment complex up ahead, heart thumping in your throat at the familiar, black SUV parked a couple blocks down. Had it not been for the heavily tinted windows and no license plates, you probably would’ve overlooked it. He knew where you lived. Stomach in knots, muscles stiff, nerves shot. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Your kids were safe at home, but at what cost? You stood in front of the building, rooted to the ground. Despite mentally preparing for this exact scenario for years, it all went down the drain the second you went to that daycare and discovered your children were missing.

It wasn’t until your phone vibrated did you snap out of your thoughts, shakily pulling the device out of your back pocket to check the notification.

from : unknown 1:06 pm     “ hi, mama.~ ”

Your stomach twisted. Attached to the message were two photos.

The first photo was of your kids eating McDonald's in the kitchen, happily cheesing and waving at the camera. You couldn't hold your choked gasp, hand coming up to hold your quivering lower lip—They were safe.

The second photo...was of Satoru. Tied to a chair, gagged, and beaten senseless. And standing behind him, holding him by his hair so that he could pose for the camera, grinning like a cheshire cat...

Another message pops up. Your grip tightened around your phone.

from : unknown 1:09 pm " daddy's home.~ "

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[astonmartinii]

forever and a day | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem long distance reader

nothing can separate them, except maybe 9,000 miles and a couple of oceans.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 893,209 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: finally back in the homeland and reunited with my girl

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user1: oscary/n nation we are so back

user2: australia always does us so well

yourusername: can you convince mclaren that they should keep paying for our dates

oscarpiastri: i think we were technically working

yourusername: were we? it never feels like work being with you

oscarpiastri: you didn't notice all of the people around us and filming us?

yourusername: i only have eyes for you osc, we know this

oscarpiastri: hehehhehehehee

yourusername: also i have to completely commit you to memory before you fuck off for another couple of months

oscarpiastri: you could always just come with me

yourusername: let me get my degree first, one of us has to be educated osc

oscarpiastri: i have my a-levels? lando doesn't even have gcses

landonorris: why am i catching a stray?

yourusername: because my boyf is smart

landonorris: i've got street smarts 😩

oscarpiastri: you've been catfished like five times already and nearly had your bank details stole?

landonorris: well ... i like to see the best in people?

user3: thank you mclaren for giving us the oscar and y/n content

user4: and the proof that love still exists

user5: terminally lonely girls block mclaren, oscar and y/n.- it's for your mental health

user6: or if you have commitment issues this is some good exposure therapy

logansargeant: oh who did you force to be your photographer this time?

yourusername: you never learnt reading comprehension in school?

logansargeant: i can read i just choose not to read the soppy shit you and oscar say to each other

oscarpiastri: leave us alone

yourusername: you have a problem with us no matter what 🤨

logansargeant: do NOT make me the bad guy for complaining about hearing your guys' sexy time

oscarpiastri: we spend A LOT of time away from each other

yourusername: and by the sounds of it, you could learn a lot

logansargeant: you know what WHATEVER

user7: they terrorise logan so much from opposite sides of the world, pray for him when she can travel with oscar

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 83,409 others

yourusername: i love any piece of you osc but the separation anxiety is kicking my ass

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user9: oscar gave y/n a plush of himself

user10: no cause he's literally such a black cat

yourusername: he blushes just like that as well

user11: oh really?

user12: want to share with the class

yourusername: that's for my eyes only

oscarpiastri: i'm glad he got to you safely

yourusername: i just about tackled the postman 😔

oscarpiastri: poor graham, we should get him a better christmas gift this year

yourusername: yeah sorry graham but you sprayed the kitty with your cologne and i can't be held responsible for my feral behaviour

user13: they get their postman christmas gifts?

user14: they have the same postman?

user15: yes, y/n lives with his family

user16: really?

yourusername: they can't get rid of me

oscarpiastri: they also love her as much as i do (literally, i have to fight my sisters to spend time with y/n)

landonorris: so this is why we were waiting so long for you at the airport

oscarpiastri: well, yes. it's very important i get y/n a souvenir

landonorris: i could've slept for like an hour longer?

yourusername: just because you don't understand true romance lando 🤨

landonorris: i know romance!

yourusername: maccies in a hotel room is not romance

landonorris: you guys are just freaks about each other that's not my fault

user17: y/n hanging out with oscar's sisters is so precious

user18: if they aren't married soon i will no longer believe in love

user19: they're 23?

user20: tbf i forget that because they've been together since they were like 15

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 351,904 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

logansargeant: oscar forced me to post this so y/n could 'remember how hot he is while he's away at war'

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user21: oh wow... thank you logan!

user22: this is not exactly what i was expecting when i opened instagram but alas i'm not complaining

yourusername: WOOF WOOF WOOF

oscarpiastri: 🤭🤭🤭

logansargeant: someone please remind me why i'm friends with you two

yourusername: because we're your only friends?

yourusername: wait sorry that was mean

yourusername: i just get protective

logansargeant: you're telling me 🤨

oscarpiastri: i'm swooning 🥰🩷

logansargeant: i give up

alexalbon: why am i a part of this oscar thirst trap? why are you posting a thirst trap of oscar?

yourusername: HE'S A GOOD FRIEND

alexalbon: i didn't consent to be part of your weird long distance lust

yourusername: oh girl ain't no one looking at you when oscar is there

alexalbon: you know what you're mean :( i want you to stay in australia

yourusername: i promise i'm a lot nicer when i'm with osc, the distance makes me cranky

alexalbon: i see, remind me to never take oscar out in a race

logansargeant: i think that's wise - i heard her yelling down the phone about carlos

yourusername: i had to block him to stop myself

user23: i am honestly so confused

user24: i think we just let them do it, we'll never understand

landonorris: do NOT ask me to do this @oscarpiastri

yourusername: booooooo you're such a debbie downer

oscarpiastri: he's just s fuckboy he doesn't understand

landonorris: i don't think i'll ever understand you two

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 119,056 others

yourusername: one degree hotter xx

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user26: fucking finally now we can get y/n in the paddock every weekend

liked by oscarpiastri

user27: mclaren social media team seen celebrating just as much

oscarpiastri: and i didn't think it was possible for you to get any hotter

yourusername: maybe a piastri jersey?

oscarpiastri: and a ring?

yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yourusername: you know i'll never say no to that

yourusername: do nOT propose through an instagram comment oscar - nicole

oscarpiastri: noted 😔

yourusername: but name the time and the place and i'll be there baby

user28: so we could defo get a y/noscar proposal this season

user29: i would be so insufferable it's unbelievable

user30: the way i just know it was killing oscar not being able to go

user31: did you guys see the kicked dog eyes in the paddock yesterday 😭😭😭

oscarpiastri: they had to force me on the plane

landonorris: no they legit were about to call mick or pato

user32: did y/n convince you to not run away to australia?

oscarpiastri: maybe ....

charles_leclerc: ummmmm who is this oscar? why hasn't your father been introduced?

yourusername: HI

oscarpiastri: y/n is the love of my life and you SHOULD be able to meet her next race weekend

yourusername: so have i also got another father-in-law?

charles_leclerc: you seem to terrorise the other drivers a lot so - yeah!

yourusername: at your service (unless it's you hitting oscar, then there's no MERCY)

charles_leclerc: okay you are kinda scary wtf

oscarpiastri

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,203,677 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: unbelievably proud of you and everything you've done darling. i'm so sorry i couldn't be there to celebrate with you, but i'll make it up to you before you know it xx

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user33: oh to be loved like this

user34: they make me feel lonely like the world apart i can only imagine how insane it'll be when they're back together 24/7

yourusername: i love you so so so much osc. you've done more than you could know by supporting me through my education. we have the rest of our lives to be together, so don't beat yourself about it now

oscarpiastri: but i'm so proud of you and just wanted to be there to celebrate you :(

yourusername: osc i can feel you pouting through the screen baby

landonorris: he really is and it's kinda annoyingly cute

yourusername: of course it's cute it's oscar 🙄

landonorris: right so i'll take back my congratulations then

yourusername: FINE BY ME

user35: obsessed with how y/n and lando already have this weird sibling bond

user36: it's the weird relationship that you kind of love between your gf and friend

user37: it's all cute until they actually fight

yourusername: if he makes any wrong step against oscar i'll crush that loser

landonorris: ahhaaha funny joke

yourusername: you're a 5'5 twig, i could snap you in half

user38: i need them to recreate the last photo when oscar wins his first race

user39: i think pinterest would explode

yourusername: no but no joke, i love you so much osc and i can't wait to start the new chapter of our life

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

oscarpiastri: sorry to my sisters but they're losing their live in stylist because you're never ever leaving me ever again

oscarpiastri: that makes me sound like a possessive asshole but i just have attachment issues

yourusername: no these years since you started in f3 have been actual hell without you and i never want to leave your side again

yourusername: i just love watching you do what you love

oscarpiastri: i'll always love you more

user40: who's chopping onions wtf

user41: i'm invoicing them for my therapy

mclarenf1

liked by fredvesti, arthurleclerc and 1,256,046 others

tagged: yourusername

mclarenf1: don't tell oscar but we've got a surprise guest for him 🤫

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user45: take me out back and shoot me please and thank you

user46: so real of you

landonorris: is this why his phone is currently hidden in my drivers room?

mclarenf1: maybe ...

landonorris: if he fights me for it that's on you guys

mclarenf1: wait admin has just realised you definitely shouldn't be on your phone

landonorris: LOL

user47: mclaren you better not fuck this race for oscar because i need my big rom com ending kiss in parc ferme

user48: omg romance writers do i have a plot for you

user49: the way this would seem so unrealistic if i read it in a book but these fools really have been together for like eight years and are unbelievably in love

yourusername: heheheheh thanks for flying me out on such late notice xx

mclarenf1: no worries queen

yourusername: you guys better be on top form, you can't hide from me in the garage

mclarenf1: hahahaha 😅😅😅

user50: is y/n the reincarnation of nicole scherzinger? like a wag that goes fucking mental

user51: and wears team merch with pride

yourusername: nicole is a queen (thank you for one direction queen) but you guys do not want me on the microphone

user52: you and oscar karaoke? please?

yourusername: we once did breaking free together but you'll have to bother logan for that video

user53: OSCAR PLEASE WIN AND DO DRUNK KARAOKE

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,556,308 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: i told you she was my lucky charm. overjoyed to get my first win, it's a dream come true and to have the love of my life with me makes it even sweeter. y/n, i'll love you forever and a day x

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user54: CONGRATS OSCAR 🧡🧡🧡

user55: i'm having such a proud mum moment

user56: tears in my eyes

user57: not as much as y/n that girl was going THROUGH IT

user58: we need her mascara, cause that shit didn't budge

yourusername: I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU OSCAR

yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername: AND THANK YOU FOR WAITING FOR ME TO BE AT A RACE TO WIN

oscarpiastri: i guess i just knew in my bones you were here and simply had to win

oscarpiastri: i just wanted to see you so bad that i drove the fastest to the finish line

yourusername: well tell them to hurry up and debrief so we can celebrate 👀

oscarpiastri: ON MY WAY

user59: maybe we will get that karaoke?

logansargeant: congrats bro! @landonorris i hope you brought some ear plugs, if not you might want to start drinking now

landonorris: SOMEONE GET ME A DRINK STAT

yourusername: i'll personally buy you a drink because i'm going to rock his world tonight

oscarpiastri: 😎😎😎

landonorris: and here i thought you were my little innocent teammate

yourusername: there's nothing little about him

landonorris: EWWWW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE

yourusername: all celebrations aside, i'm so proud and i'll love you forever and always x

oscarpiastri: it's always been you and it will always be you

yourusername: i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too

fin.

note: WOOOOOOOOOO OSCAR!!! (i'm ignoring everything else to do with the race, oscar is my king)