#again you can totally use the pinterest

[boxwinebaddie]

IT'S KYLE WEEK!!!! <3

hello everyone and happy kyle pile week to all that celebrate! in honor of my fave orange and green son, i am hoping to spend the week primarily answering kyle-related asks! that goes for all my kyles across the ncu, feel free to use my weird pinterest as a frame of reference if you so wish! please send in any kyle qs that you want and if you've already asked me a question i haven't gotten around to answering, feel free to send me another ask! i'm a busy lady with a lot of dumb adult lady tasks, but i'm gonna try and do as many as i can!

-uncle nina, kyle broflovski enthusiast <3

[mcmansionhell]

this house may or may not be real

on grayness in real estate

Allegedly, somewhere in Wake Forest, North Carolina, a 4 bed, 5.5 bathroom house totaling more than 6,600 square feet is for sale at a price of 2.37 million dollars. The house, allegedly, was built in 2021. Allegedly, it looks like this:

A McMansion is, in effect, the same house over and over again - it's merely dressed up in different costumes. In the 90s, the costume was Colonial; in the 2000s, it was vague forms of European (Tuscan, Mediterranean), and in the 2010s it was Tudor, dovetailed by "the farmhouse" -- a kind of Yeti Cooler simulacra of rural America peddled to the populace by Toll Brothers and HGTV.

Now, we're fully in the era of whatever this is. Whitewashed, quasi-modern, vaguely farmhouse-esque, definitely McMansion. We have reached, in a way, peak color and formal neutrality to the point where even the concept of style has no teeth. At a certain moment in its life cycle, styles in vernacular architecture reach their apex, after which they seem excessively oversaturated and ubiquitous. Soon, it's time to move on. After all, no one builds houses that look like this anymore:

(This is almost a shame because at least this house is mildly interesting.)

If we return to the basic form of both houses, they are essentially the same: a central foyer, a disguised oversized garage, and an overly complex assemblage of masses, windows, and rooflines. No one can rightfully claim that we no longer live in the age of the McMansion. The McMansion has instead simply become more charmless and dull.

When HGTV and the Gaineses premiered Fixer Upper in 2013, it seemed almost harmless. Attractive couple flips houses. Classic show form. However, Fixer Upper has since (in)famously ballooned into its own media network, a product line I'm confronted with every time I go to Target, and a general 2010s cultural hallmark not unlike the 1976 American Bicentennial - both events after which every house and its furnishings were somehow created in its image. (The patriotism, aesthetic and cultural conservatism of both are not lost on me.)

But there's one catch: Fixer Upper is over, and after the Gaineses, HGTV hasn't quite figured out where to go stylistically. With all those advertisers, partners, and eyeballs, the pressure to keep one foot stuck in the rural tweeness that sold extremely well was great. At the same time, the network (and the rest of the vernacular design media) couldn't risk wearing out its welcome. The answer came in a mix of rehashed, overly neutral modernism -- with a few pops of color, yet this part often seems omitted from its imitators -- with the prevailing "farmhouse modern" of Magnolia™ stock. The unfortunate result: mega-ultra-greige.

Aside from war-mongering, rarely does the media manufacture consent like it does in terms of interior design. People often ask me: Why is everything so gray? How did we get here? The answer is because it is profitable. Why is it profitable? I'd like to hypothesize several reasons. The first is as I mentioned: today's total neutrality is an organic outgrowth of a previous but slightly different style, "farmhouse modern," that mixed the starkness of the vernacular farmhouse with the soft-pastel Pinterest-era rural signifiers that have for the last ten years become ubiquitous.

Second, neutrals have always been common and popular. It's the default choice if you don't have a vision for what you want to do in a space. In the 2000s, the neutrals du jour were "earth tones" - beige, sage green, brown. Before that, it was white walls with oak trim in the 80s and 90s. In the 70s, neutrals were textural: brick and wood paneling. We have remarkably short memories when it comes to stylistic evolution because in real time it feels incremental. Such is the case with neutrals.

Finally, the all-gray palette is the end logic of HGTV et al's gamified methodology of designing houses with commodification in mind: if you blow out this wall, use this color, this flooring, this cabinetry, the asking price of your house goes up. You never want to personalize too much because it's off-putting to potential buyers. After twenty years of such rhetoric, doesn't it make all the sense in the world that we've ended up with houses that are empty, soulless, and gray?

A common realtor adage is to stage the house so that potential buyers can picture their own lives in it. In other words, create a tabula rasa one can project a fantasy of consumption onto. Implied in that logic is that the buyer will then impose their will on the house. But when the staged-realtor-vision and general-mass-market aesthetic of the time merge into a single dull slurry, we get a form of ultra-neutral that seems unwelcoming if not inescapable.

To impose one's style on the perfect starkness is almost intimidating, as though one is fouling up something untouchable and superior. If neutrality makes a house sell, then personality - at all - can only be seen as a detriment. Where does such an anti-social practice lead us? Back to the house that may or may not exist.

In my travels as McMansion Hell, I've increasingly been confronted with houses full of furniture that isn't real. This is known as virtual staging and it is to house staging as ChatGPT is to press release writing or DALL-E is to illustration. As this technology improves, fake sofa tables are becoming more and more difficult to discern from the real thing. I'm still not entirely sure which of the things in these photos are genuine or rendered. To walk through this house is to question reality.

Staging ultimately pretends (sometimes successfully, sometimes not) that someone is living in this house, that you, too could live in it. Once discovered, virtual staging erases all pretensions: the house is inhabited by no one. It is generally acknowledged (though I'm not sure on the actual statistics) that a house with furniture - that is, with the pretense of living -- sells easier than a house with nothing in it, especially if that house (like this one) has almost no internal walls. Hence the goal is to make the virtual staging undiscoverable.

If you want to talk about the realtor's tabula rasa, this is its final form. Houses without people, without human involvement whatsoever.

But what makes this particular house so uncanny is that all of these things I've mentioned before: real estate listing photography, completely dull interiors and bland colors all make it easy for the virtual furniture to work so well. This is because the softness of overlit white and gray walls enables the fuzzy edges of the renderings to look natural when mixed with an overstylized reality. Even if you notice something's off in the reflections, that's enough to cause one to wonder if anything in the house is real: the floors, the fixtures, the moulding, the windows and doors.

This is where things are heading: artifice on top of artifice on top of artifice. It's cheap, it's easy. But something about it feels like a violation. When one endeavors to buy a house, one assumes what one is viewing is real. It's one thing if a realtor photoshops a goofy sunset, it's another to wonder if anything in a room can be touched with human hands. I won't know what, if any, part of this estate costing over 2 million dollars actually exists until I visit it myself. Perhaps that's the whole point - to entice potential buyers out to see for themselves. When they enter, they'll find the truth: a vast, empty space with nothing in it.

The better this rendering technology gets, the more it will rely on these totally neutral spaces because everything matches and nothing is difficult. You are picking from a catalog of greige furniture to decorate greige rooms. If you look at virtual staging in a non-neutral house it looks immediately plastic and out of place, which is why many realtors opt to either still stage using furniture or leave the place empty.

Due to the aforementioned photography reasons, I would even argue that the greigepocalypse or whatever you want to call it and virtual staging have evolved simultaneously and mutualistically. The more virtual staging becomes an industry standard, the more conditions for making it seamless and successful will become standardized as well.

After all, real staging is expensive and depends on paid labor - selecting furniture, getting workers to deliver and stage it, only to pack it back up again once the property is sold. This is a classic example of technology being used to erase entire industries. Is this a bad thing? For freelance and contract workers, yeah. For realtors? no. For real estate listings, it remains to be seen. For this blog? Absolutely. (Thankfully there is an endless supply of previously existing McMansions.)

The thing is, real estate listings no longer reflect reality. (Did they ever to begin with?) The reason we're all exasperated with greige is because none of us actually live that way and don't want to. I've never been to anyone's house that looks like the house that may or may not exist. Even my parents who have followed the trends after becoming empty nesters have plenty of color in their house. Humans like color. Most of us have lots of warmth and creativity in our houses. Compare media intended for renters and younger consumers such as Apartment Therapy with HGTV and you will find a stark difference in palate and tone.

But when it comes to actually existing houses - look at Zillow and it's greige greige greige. So who's doing this? The answer is real estate itself aided by their allies in mass media who in turn are aided by the home renovation industry. In other words, it's the people who sell home as a commodity. That desire to sell has for some time overpowered all other elements that make up a home or an apartment's interiority to the point where we've ended up in a colorless slurry of real and unreal.

Fortunately, after ten years or so, things begin to become dated. We're hitting the ten year mark of farmhouse modernism and its derivatives now. If you're getting sick of it, it's normal. The whole style is hopefully on its last leg. But unlike styles of the past, there's a real, trenchant material reason why this one is sticking around longer than usual.

Hence, maybe if we want the end of greige, we're going to have to take color back by force.

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

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{next}

face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

[slytherinboysappreciation]

JEGRNEISUB smoker mattheo riddle x non smoker gn/male reader who start dating but since reader doesn't smoke they try to force mattheo to stop smoking by not kissing him on the lips

Like imagine him wanting to kiss you on the lips since before y'all started dating and now that he's dating you he can't cs he smokes and you hated kissing your smoker ex before you met him AND whenever you dobkiss him it's always on the corner of his lips and he tries to turn his head but you stop all contact and he js whines and begs but you stand your ground until he goes cold turkey

Cold turkey mattheo is always jittery and annoyed to the point his friends are complaining about him to you but mattheo finaly gets his kisses from you and he just thinks "damn this was worth it"

Now everytime he gets a nicotine craving he je kisses you HELPEHELPEHELP

(You should totally write this *winks*)

(No pressure though)

Smoker - M. R. x gn!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!! I hope this is what you were wanting! I’m sorry about the ending; I’ve been on a streak of not knowing how to end fics well, apparently.

Fic is entirely unedited with no use of Y/N. Please let me know if I missed tagging something!!! Gif found on Pinterest here

CW: Lots of mentions of smoking and cigarettes; one mention of getting high; one mention of future death due to smoking; mentions of reader’s ex; mentions of kissing; kissing; angst, I guess??; pet names; Mattheo’s puppy eyes; begging; Theo gets rather frustrated in this; annoyed words towards reader; cursing; mentions of complaining; lots of kissing at the end; Mattheo being soft

1493 words

You’ve been dating Mattheo for almost a week now, and you’re getting tired of his smoking habits.

Since before you began dating, you’ve done everything you can to dissuade him from the habit. Everything aside from going and throwing away his stash yourself, that is.

But it’s no use. Theo chainsmokes like he’s planning his early death, and Enzo gets high every other day. Neither of them are much help when it comes to getting Mattheo to quit.

It’s not that you hate the smoking itself; it’s that you hate the smell. The lingering stench of acrid smoke that follows Mattheo no matter how many times he brushes his teeth or changes his clothes.

It lingers in his hair. On his skin.

It disgusts you. Your ex had been a smoker and the stench of cigarettes had followed him everywhere. Now the smell reminds you of him and his horrid habits.

You don’t want Mattheo to be connected to such a person, but he won’t listen to you when you beg him to quit.

So you resort to drastic measures.

It starts after class. Mattheo and Theo head off to go smoke, leaving you to hatch your plans.

And oh what a good plan you hatch.

It’s simple, really. But you’re pretty sure it’ll be effective. After all, there’s nothing Mattheo loves more than kissing you.

He returns with just enough time to walk you to your next class. You chat idly as you walk, going on about the new music album Pansy had shared with you. Mattheo nods along, smiling as he listens to you talk.

When you reach your class, Mattheo leans in for a kiss like he normally does, but you turn your head. His kiss lands on your cheek, rather than your lips.

He pulls back, startled and confused. “Babe?”

“Hmm?” You go to head into class, but he grabs your arm.

“What’s wrong?” He looks so concerned, his puppy eyes already starting to show.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You lean up and kiss his cheek. Mattheo tries to turn his head to catch your lips but you pull back.

“See you after class, Matty.”

“But…” He trails after you. “Did I do something?”

Your heart aches. Why does he have to look so pitiful when he’s sad?

“Matty…”

“Mr Riddle.” It’s your professor, looking vaguely annoyed. “Last time I checked you weren’t in this class.”

Mattheo opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off by kissing his cheek again. “I’ll talk with you after class. I promise.”

He wilts a bit, still giving you his sad puppy eyes. But, slowly, he turns and leaves the classroom.

You take your seat, already feeling miserable. This plan is going to be harder than you thought.

Mattheo ambushes you after class is over. He’s there at the door, grabbing your arm and hauling you along after him. A small handpicked bouquet of flowers is stuffed into your hands.

“Matty, what the—“

He pulls you into an empty classroom and turns to face you, giving you the saddest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. “What did I do, baby? Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches. With a sigh, you set down the flower bouquet on a desk and reach out to cup his face in your hands. “You didn’t do anything, love.”

“Then why won’t you let me kiss you?” He leans in, as if to try right then.

You pull back a bit, covering his mouth with your hand. You take a deep breath and gather your courage. “I don’t like it when you smoke, Matty.”

His brow furrows, but you continue. “I’ve tried everything I can, but you just won’t listen. So, until you stop smoking, I’m not going to kiss you anymore.”

Mattheo stares at you. He pulls your hand away from his mouth. “What?”

You fiddle with a curl of his hair, doing your best to hold his gaze. “No more kisses until you stop smoking.”

“But— But—“ He gapes at you in disbelief. “You— You can’t do this!”

You cross your arms, hoping you sound more stern than you feel. “I can and I am.”

“But, my kisses!”

“You can have your kisses after you stop smoking.”

Mattheo looks desperate. “Babe. Baby. My love. Come on. Please, it’s just— Smoking’s not even that big of a deal!”

“It is to me,” you say firmly. Inside, you’re dying; melting at his puppy eyes and distressed look.

“Baby, baby, please.” He takes your hands in his, giving you a pleading look. “Please don’t do this. I love your kisses.”

You can’t bear to hold his gaze any longer so you look away. “I know you do. That’s why I’m doing this. Maybe you’ll finally quit.”

“But—“

“I’ve made up my mind, Mattheo, and you’re not going to change it,” you say firmly. His expression crumples.

It hurts too much, so you gently pull your hands from his.

“I’ll see you later.” You give him a kiss on the corner of his lips. He doesn’t react, just gives you a morose stare.

You sigh and turn away. Surely, he’s just being dramatic? There’s no way this plan will work, right?

Wrong.

It takes Mattheo a week to give up his cigarettes. A week of whining and bemoaning and complaining.

A week of sad puppy eyes everytime you give him a kiss on his cheek or on the corner of his lips. A week of dodging his head turns and sneak kisses.

It’s just as painful for you as it is for him.

But, finally, he quits.

You make him wait three more days.

By the second day, Theo comes to you, scowling. “You’ve turned him into a damn right menace, you know that?”

You’re in the middle of doing your Charms homework, and have to pause to answer him. “What do you mean?”

“He’s as jittery and as pissed off as I’ve ever seen him. He nearly punched me in the face for suggesting he chill out.”

You blink. “He’s… Oh, from the withdrawal.”

“Yeah, from the withdrawal,” Theo says sarcastically. “You’ve turned him into a menace!”

You cross your arms. “Maybe if you hadn’t gotten him addicted, he wouldn’t be so cross right now.”

“It’s just a few bloody cigarettes a day!” Theo snaps back. “What’s it to you?”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t—“ Theo cuts himself off and sighs. “Bloody hell. You’re almost as bad as he is.”

“Hey!”

“I mean it in a good way,” he amends. “You’re stubborn as hell and fight for what you want. I can see why he likes you so much.”

You scowl, but let him go without comment.

More of Mattheo’s friends try complaining to you about him, but find you wholly unsympathetic. You’re firm in your stance about Mattheo quitting, much to their frustration.

But it’s all worth it when you finally let Mattheo have his kisses.

You’re expecting the bombardment of kisses from Mattheo. You’re not expecting the genuine relief in his expression when you kiss him on the lips again.

He sighs happily and gives you a dreamy look. “Merlin, I love your lips. I’d give up cigarettes a thousand times for your kisses.”

Your cheeks heat. “Matty…”

“Nuh-uh.” He leans in to kiss you again. And again. And again. “I get to have my special time with your lips. No denying my compliments allowed.”

You laugh softly and melt into his next kiss. “Alright. I suppose I can deal with that.”

Mattheo just grins into the kiss and pulls you closer.

For the next few days after your reconciliation, Mattheo is incessant about kissing you.

It’s immediately after class, during study sessions, after meals, and before bed. Anytime he can get his hands on you, his mouth finds yours.

It’s only when Pansy makes a comment about it that you finally think to ask Mattheo about it.

You’re studying in your room with him. Well, you’re studying; he’s pressing soft kisses to your cheek and jaw.

“Are you really that obsessed with kissing me?”

Mattheo leans in to kiss your cheek again. “Always, babe.”

You nudge him, smiling. “No, be serious. Not that I mind it, but you’ve been very clingy these past few days. Why?”

He hums and nuzzles along your jawline. “I get these cravings. Every time I used to smoke. But I quit, so now I kiss you instead.”

You pause, pulling away to properly look at him. Your gaze is soft, affectionate. “You… You keep from smoking again… by kissing me?”

He blushes a bit and leans in to give you a kiss on the lips. “Well, yeah…”

“That’s actually kinda cute.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles.

“So, does it work? Kissing me?”

“Yeah, but…” he smirks. “I should probably try again, you know, just to make sure.”

You make no protest when he kisses you deeply. He deserves it, after all.

And not just for his smooth comment.

[verstarppen]

summary; there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work

pairing; lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; i'm glad people liked this so here's the anticipated part 2, if you see mistakes no you don't shhh; also yes i really did try to sneak in my book reccs in this one just close your eyes if you want a taglist let me know! [ series masterlist ]

liked by davefiloni, landonorris, danielricciardo and 296,589 others

yndeathtrooper happy birthday to my super cool boss who's totally not going to fire me for being annoying @ davefiloni

view all 30,557 comments

davefiloni Thin ice

yndeathtrooper you get to fire me after you finish reading ONE thrawn book davefiloni Touché

cherryhamilton INSURENCE FOR THE DATING RUMORS LMAO

lukestarkiller and to many more years of awesome storytelling

verstoppen LANDO IN THE LIKES IS SENDING ME

cc_2224 Happy birthday king!

liked by daniel3.jpg, yndeathtrooper, charles_leclerc and 522,123 others

lando.jpg feel it in the force, yoda one for me

view all 52,199 comments

stappenlover lando norizz

tyrescreamer oh my god he's so

yndeathtrooper boooooo that's so cheesy

lando.jpg but did it work yndeathtrooper the comments are loving it lando.jpg i wasn't talking about the comments

daniel3.jpg I was wondering why the bathroom was preoccupied for so long

lando.jpg had to get the best angles sorry

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 2,752,484 others

yndeathtrooper forever grateful to this community <3 thank you everyone who asked for an autograph and photos at the con, i love you

view all 640,475 comments

revanite AYY THAT'S ME IN THE FIRST PHOTO LET'S GO

danielricciardo See you in four days

yndeathtrooper counting the hours sugarussell WHAT alfajuliet THEY'RE MEETING UP!? ln444 TEAM DANNY WINS AGAIN

liked by yndeathtrooper, danielricciardo, landonorris and 3,021,278 others

mclaren Oh Monaco, we’ve been waiting for you! Dreaming of the glitz and the glamour, the iconic street circuit and how can we forget those spectacular harbour views? 💭😍

view all 980,025 comments

danielricciardo Let's get it

dududumax wooo let's gooo

papayasalad lando p4 i'm calling it

lewisummer not with that crash in qualifying he won't 💀

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 1,535,101 others

yndeathtrooper hello monaco, you're cute

view all 871,190 comments

charlielechair WHO'S ON THE LAST SLIDE

stappenlover daniel, obviously georgieborgie IT'S LANDO strollette dude daniel literally liked the post papayasalad SO DID LANDO

sabinelorian you can't just leave us on a cliffhanger like that

charles_leclerc 👋

yndeathtrooper 👋👋👋

cad_babe WHO IS IT

sokasnips soft launch?

jarjarblinks we've shot up into the sky and exploded fuck you mean this is suposed to be a soft launch kimirizzkonnen WHO ARE WE SOFT LAUNCHING FFS

pic credits: instagram and pinterest

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: a lil workplace visit can’t be that bad, right?

warnings: cussing, links to pinterest. a lil short, sorry!

saint’s team radio 🎀: hiiiii there. thank you for all the love on virgo’s groove, i truly love each and everyone of you! hope you enjoy this, babies!

pls like, comment and reblog!

dividers from @cafekitsune

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

renaissance: the series masterlist 🪩

Lewis had missed his wife, terribly so.

Often being reminded by most, that his companion was not next to him as much as she was the last two weeks. He never tired talking about her in any sense and to anyone who would listen. By now, she would’ve spoken about her students or a joke that her friends used to tell as she attended university many years ago. Possibly a song she was thinking about or a candy she tried from the hotel in Miami.

He had missed the bright smile she often displayed at anyone who was open to receiving it or whenever she spoke of her new friends. Lewis had realised she had quite the loud laugh, contradicting her quiet voice, and how she would laugh at his jokes, a quiet wheeze at first then a boisterous laugh following right after. He had also missed how she would slip into one of her many home languages whenever she spoke and how she would derail the conversation to explain every little thing in that specific language.

Surprisingly so, he liked seeing that she was spending his money, even after trying to convince her that it was totally okay. Lewis also liked how she would send little updates on her day just as he did as well, talking about how she’s constantly stopped in the streets for pictures and how shocked she always was that people recognised her.

He also liked the rambles she had whenever they got the chance to facetime. Making her blush at his words was always a sight to see and how she would try do it back but her giggles held her back.

Lewis missed Nadia. A lot.

Sitting in his hotel room in Barcelona, he stared at the suitcases that were waiting right by the door. He checked his carry on once again to check that the little gifts he got her were okay. The specific hoodie he was wearing still had faint scents of her perfume, making Lewis feel giddy to get home. Months ago, he would’ve always said that the world is his home but ever since he met Nadia, he could feel his smile get larger as his thoughts go on.

Managing to get a podium, just as he promised her, he remembered her excitement and astonishment when he explained how many he actually had. She went on to tell him that she’ll make celebratory baked goods for whenever he gets back. Lewis knew that he was distracted when he attended a dinner with some friends after the race, his phone couldn’t be separated from his hands. All that was on his mind was seeing her.

-

“I know we initially removed the second question from the assignment but the board brought it forward that it needs to be done.” As soon as Nadia finished her sentence, her year 12 students groaned loudly.

“It didn’t make sense to me either but because you’re my kiddies, I’ll research when I get home and just get a memo so you don’t have to worry. Even if you all write the same thing, it’s okay.” She assured, walking to her desk after handing out the ‘new’ assignment papers.

“Uh, Ms Brown. You said this can be typed out, right?” A hand that was raised asked. Before the teacher could answer, someone interjected.

“It’s Mrs Hamilton, Tash.” That made a few students laugh. Nadia would never get used to hearing herself being referred to that. Every time she even woke up in that house, it was unbelievable.

With a little chuckle, she put her pen down. “Thank you, Kim. But yes, it needs to be typed out and don’t forget to make a cover, everyone.” Picking up her pen once again, Nadia went on to work on the question that troubled the whole class.

Silence fell and all that was heard was faint music coming from some kid’s headphones as they worked on their assignment or their homework, Nadia never had an issue if they needed to complete other tasks from their other classes.

Glancing at the clock on her desk, there were at least two hours of school left but luckily, she only had a few classes that day and was able to go home early. An empty large mansion but it was home. Craving the vanilla macrons she made yesterday, Nadia was more than excited to get home.

It was also the day that she expected her husband back home from Spain. Mondays usually went slower than the usual but she pushed her excitement to the back of her head as she continued to work. There was still some time left with her favourite class so she relaxed in her seat.

Nadia’s phone kept buzzing with text messages as she typed away on her laptop, sending an apologetic look to the students who’s heads whipped at the distracting sounds. Picking it up, all she saw was messages from Maggie, the school office admin, sending through messages that basically implied that she was shaking, she was excited and constantly repeated ‘girllllll’.

The class was now interested in whatever was going on because Nadia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was nothing she was aware of unless the principal wanted to talk to her about something but that was even more confusing.

A knock echoed through the classroom and she gave the student closest to the door a signal to open it and he froze at the door, seemingly starstruck. All the kids then leaned outside their desks to see and they began screaming in excitement at whoever was at the door. The figure walked in the door and Nadia’s stomach dropped at the sight.

“Oh my days, Lewis Hamilton is in my class!”

-

After eventually calming down the class who were still shocked and buzzing at the fact that Lewis was there, he offered to take pictures with everyone and even brought them doughnuts that he had left outside the class in hopes to surprise them. He locked eyes with his wife and made his way to her, signalling to the kids that he’d be right back to take pictures.

Nadia threw her arms around his waist as soon as Lewis was close enough, he kissed through her wig then her forehead, completely aware that the kids were watching and recording. “I don’t wanna get fired, Lew.” Nadia spoke, facing away from her students.

“I had a word with the principal, you’re good.” He reassured, patting her back. Winking at her as he went back to the excited kids, she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She also realised how spontaneous he was because he really just showed up to her work like he forgot who he was.

Getting home was a bit of a challenge, the rest of the school caught wind of his appearance and that was a mission in itself. To Nadia’s luck, school was still in session and she could get home early with her husband by her side. The deal was that Lewis would come speak to the kids one day in exchange for his spontaneity.

Climbing out of the Range Rover that she drove herself to school in, Lewis held her hand to the front door where his suitcases were waiting to be let in. It felt all so domestic like they’ve done this a thousand times before, taking off their shoes right by the door and she immediately slipped into her slides. The home smelt like a mixture of her sweet perfume, cookies and the ocean scented incense she bought for the house.

“Welcome home!” Nads turned around after dropping all her things on the kitchen island to throw her arms around his neck for the physical touch they had been waiting for. They melted into the hug, faces digging into each other’s necks, engulfing each other with their warmth. The two stood there for what seemed like an eternity before letting go eventually. “That felt good, wow.” Lewis said, his eyes taking in every part of her face.

He had missed her so much.

“Right? It felt like a month apart. How are you feeling? Spain was something else.” Nadia smiled, still unable to look at him in his eyes. Before he could answer, he knew he couldn’t just outright say anything to her yet. Lewis couldn’t tell her that he’s falling for her so quickly, so much so that he wanted to shout it out to the world. He did that already, the world just doesn’t know that all of this isn’t real.

“I’ve been alright, just wanted to come back home and relax. Getting that podium though,” Lewis breathed out. “Please, you made it look flawless.” Nadia interrupted, with a ‘duh’ expression on her face. He couldn’t help but genuinely smile at that.

She walked further into the kitchen and he followed after her like a puppy, waiting for her to do anything. “I made you vegan vanilla macrons for your podium and my non-vegan ones are in a different lunch box.” Nadia tapped the lunch box labelled ‘vegan’ with her freshly done nails then placed it on the kitchen counter.

“Ohh shit, I forgot I got you something else as well!”

Nadia ran up towards the stairs, spewing out the words as Lewis watched her with a smile on his face, leaning his head on his hand. Deciding to make himself comfortable in the living room, he waited for her.

Quick steps of her sandals echoing throughout the main floor, she came through with a medium sized box in hand, a proud smile on her face as she plopped herself right next to him on the couch. “So. You know how I said that I love sourcing for archives in fashion or the latest pieces that are just tough to find?” Nadia started.

“Yeah…..” Lewis responded with a slight lift of his eyebrow.

“This is a gift I want to give to you since you did so good in Spain but I got it like days before the podium so I had to pray that you did good.” She added, unable to contain her smile as she handed the box to him. Sitting down quite close to each other, she watched as Lewis carefully ripped the gift wrap.

He was smiling before he fully opened his gift. “I can feel you just jumping’ in excitement.” Lewis said, his natural accent and voice coming into light. The same voice he used to when he felt right at home.

Eventually putting all the gift wrap to the side, he faced the box in curiosity, opening it and being prepared to see anything. “You’re joking.” Lewis said in shock, staring at Nadia who’s smile was brighter than the sun itself. “It was tough finding these but I do hope you like them, Lew.” She responded.

“These were made-“ “By Virgil, yep. I knew that you guys had a good friendship so when I came across these, they reminded me of you guys.” She informed and giggled at Lewis constantly looking back and forth at the shoes. The Nike x Louis Vuitton air force one was apart of a collection released in honour of Virgil Abloh, Lewis’ friend and Nadia’s inspiration in the fashion world.

Lewis couldn’t contain himself and stood up abruptly, pulling Nadia with him to wrap his arms around her and give her an even warmer hug. A bit shocked, Nadia quickly recovered and returned the same energy towards him. “Thank you, Nads, truly. Not just for the shoes but just…everything.”

“Anytime, pookie bear.” Nadia moved her head to look directly into his eyes, focusing on every crevice of her face. Looking down at her neck, he caught a glimpse of shining silver jewellery sitting pretty on her neck, only used to seeing gold pieces only.

“Is that 44 on your necklace?” He pointed it out, looking back and forth between her face and her jewellery. “Oh! Yeah, I wanted it to match my ring. The world is getting familiar with this face, might as well add to it.” Nadia said with a smug smile and Lewis had to collect himself but he realised he was right home.

Adding a little chuckle, he lowered his large hands from the middle of her back to her ass then her thighs, getting a yell out of her when she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Wanna get the neighbour familiar with you?” Lewis smirked, licking his lips at the same time.

“Let’s get right to it, Sir.” She responded, giggling as he started rushing to the bedroom, holding onto her tightly as they went up the stairs.

-

lewishamilton

lewishamilton a week filled with love and joy. canada, here we come ~

tagged: @/nadiahamilton

view all comments

nadiahamilton i look too good 🤭

lewishamilton you always do

nadiahamilton omg STAWWP 🥹

user dawg this is so unfair, you don’t get it

fencer my best friends 🥹

liked by lewishamilton

user mother and father

kehlani sleep with one eye open, mister

lewishamilton it’s sir

kehlani i’m still taking your wife, leprechaun 🫵🏽

user seeing you two in Canada!!

user this man is too gone, bridgerton level simp

user well duh, if you were with Nadia, you’d be too

lewishamilton this is true, she hung up the moon and the stars

user OOOOHHHHHH LEWISSSSSS 🙂‍↕️

chunks your home is so beautiful, thanks champ 🫡

user lewis is friends with the beta squad????

user they’re nadia’s friends

louisvuitton hope you loved your gift! 🤍

lewishamilton it was gifted by Nads so it was the best 🫶🏽

user you guys are so cute, it HURTS

canadagrandprix thee it couple

mercedesamgf1 has more stories about Nadia than the Spanish gp, we have to respect it

badgalriri got a problem? 🤨

user they got Riri clocking they asses 😭😭😭

nadiahamilton

nadiahamilton i’m the cooler one

view all comments

tyla you’re the coolest of them all 😝

nadiahamilton love you always!!

nellarose_ that french vanilla cake you made? signing you up for masterchef rn!

nadiahamilton girl pls 😭

user you guys remember when the wags called her tinkerbell? she literally is tinkerbell in real life 😭

user and she smells like money and sweet flowers ‼️

nataliatheedon come back to America rn

nadiahamilton canada’s the best i can do 😣

user i feel like a certain canadian rapper is gonna show up lol

user i’m from toronto and there’s a rumour that lewis’ people are blocking off that rapper from getting near nadia because he keeps reposting her pics lollllll

user no ways lewis actually has shooters???

user he’s Lewis, what did you expect? 😭

zendaya mother graced us with her presence once again

nadiahamilton love you Z 😚

louisvuitton 🤍🤍

sza hand in marriage?

lilymhe omg hiii, let’s redo monaco?

lewishamilton hi sweetheart

nadiahamilton hi my love

user PARENTS

saint’s notes 🪩: heyyyy babies! this is one is quite short lol but i hope you enjoyed! love u all 😚 also noticed the colour schemes for their insta posts? 🫡

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[boydepartment]

so cute - anton lee x reader

a/n: DONT LOOK AT ME RN…. okay i’m having a moment shut up i can’t sleep. this is completely self indulgent and writing for fun so whooooooops

warnings- none just fluff and goofy. idol! anton. photography major! reader. (i am not a photography major so pls um bare w me) THIS IS ALSO REALLY CLICHE SO I AM SORRY i also have no idea what tags to use :( so if you are on riize tumblr PLS HELP ME IN MY INBOX WITH TAGS

wc- 250-300

MASTERLIST

when you sat down after you ordered you got all your stuff organized. you had a plan to meet your friend to study together at a small but sweet boba shop. a lot of college students would come and go and half the fun of studying was procrastinating and choosing to people watch instead.

your friend was late and so you were left to fend for yourself. which was okay, it didn’t bother you. you got a little lost in thought and didn’t even notice the gaggle of boys walk in.

you didn’t even notice when the second cashier called up your order and you skipped over to pick it up. it tasted sweet and made you smile.

the way you set up your table looked really nice so you took a couple steps away from your chair to take a photo, not for class. just for fun.

your notes and laptop looked like those aesthetic posts on pinterest and the view outside the window was not the worst for a parking lot. you looked down at your phone and frowned, maybe the flash would help?

you went to get in position again when a guy totally bumped into you. sending both of you crashing onto the floor!

when you sat up you saw all his friends almost sprint out of the shop laughing, you looked down, eyes widening.

“i’m so sorry! here let me help you up!” you stood up and put your hands out. he was quiet and took your hands. you bent over and picked up his thankful pre-poked boba, nothing spilled thank goodness!

“are you okay?” you asked, handing his drink to him. it was a little hard to tell or read him as he was wearing a mask, there was only so much you could read with his eyes.

your head turned to the side trying to get an answer out of him. eventually he snapped out of whatever daze he was in. did this boy hit his head too hard?

“it was my fault! i was walking backwards while talking and i didn’t see you i’m sorry…” the boy was very soft spoken and it took you by surprise. a lot of people you met in college were a little outspoken.

you smiled at him, hoping to lighten the mood, “it’s okay it was an accident!”

“you fell pretty hard on your knees, are you okay?” he asked, noticing that they looked pretty scuffed.

“oh! i’m okay. don’t worry about it.” you went to grab your bag which softened the blow of your fall.

“is your phone okay? if it’s broken i can help pay for the damages…”

that was sweet of him…

you looked at your phone and saw the crack in the screen protector, “it’s a little cracked but it’s just the screen protector! it’s fine! if anyone asks i can tell them about this.” you laughed a little and looked at him again, “my friend’s gonna wish she wasn’t late…!”

you heard the boy laugh a little, “i still feel bad for tripping over you and ruining your photo, can i do anything to make up for it?”

“there’s no need to feel bad!” you said quickly- waving you hands back and forth, “again it’s totally okay. you should probably get back to your friends though… they kinda ran off.”

you saw him look outside the window, scoffing a little, “i’m going to choose to ignore them.”

this made you laugh, it was a total 180 from his voice, it was cute.

“i’m y/n. i figure since we’re having a conversation it’s appropriate to introduce myself, since you’re not just falling over me and dipping.” you stuck your hand out again.

he looked at your hand and shook it, “anton.” his eyes curved which told you he was smiling. cute.

“um… your friend still isn’t here… can i sit with you?”

you nodded, might as well, it wasn’t like you were studying. he happily took a seat next to you.

“you’re in college right?”

you nodded, “mhm! photography major!” you opened a file and scooted your laptop to him. anton looked through your photos almost amazed.

“i’m trying to put together my portfolio right now actually. i’m hoping i’ll get a job soon.” you explained, leaning your head on your palm.

he practically perked up at this, “my friends and i need a photographer for our next show!”

“show?”

“ummmmmmmmmm.” anton scratched his neck, “yes. show. music. yaknow….”

you smiled, “honestly, if it pays well, i’d love to.”

he looked at you and nodded, really enthusiastically. you felt pride bubble in you for someone being so impressed by your work to offer you a job.

“can i get your number to get the details?” you asked, unlocking your phone, he was cute and even if the job didn’t work out, maybe a date would. you could hear his phone buzzing rapidly.

anton nodded again and put his information in, “text me your name n stuff and i’ll answer i promise.” he stood up, “i really need to get back to my friends they’re blowing up my phone… even though they ditched me…”

you laughed again, “no problem. i’ll text you!”

“yeah!” he was walking away from you smiling when he ran into the door awkwardly. almost like the scene of a movie. it was so cute.

he was so cute.

[hg-aneh]

Yo, I don't know if you know this but your work is being posted on Pinterest

I sort of knew but never really cared about it until now-?

-lots of angry feed up whining below... and a bit of a breakdown-

Just a few hours ago I saw the comments on some of them and holy shit tiktok children are some of the most braindead individuals i have ever seen

I'm fine with reposts, and if I wasn't, I know I wouldn't be able to stop them

What's pissing me off rn is that my stuff is getting attention from *that* crowd, the booger eating snot nosed mocosos de mierda who are so privileged their main problems are "what's skrimblo skromblo doing now? omg is it problematic??? omg theyre like so evil 💀💀"

I- they're still fucking going with the Crowriel thing- How cool, how fun, totally not making me want to disappear again bc of all the trauma from that particular mess, nope, not at all

And the angel crowley x demon crowley thing- i swear to fucking god i- they're so dumb- they're so stupid- how is it incest you- they're the same person🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉

I even saw some little shit saying "omg i used to like that artist until i found out they draw nsfw" ... WHAT IS HAPPENIGNJDNGKDBG??????¿?¿¿????¿

I swear I'm going insane, I wish I could take my shit away from those people, they're so-??????

Like I'm legit about to enter another joker era, I can't believe this is what fandom spaces are now, what is wrong with people

Sorry I'm using this as a vent post or whatever but honestly I'm tired of being subservient when it comes to these fucking people, at one point a bitch has gotta explode

"Why do you care so much about what ppl say abt you online"

Because I have Seen what happens when you shut up about it. You either address it indirectly or become tiktoklovr103892's punching bag, there's no in between. Each second of silence is an admission of guilt for these motherfuckers

And I know that at the end of the day it doesn't matter but bro just allow me to be emotional over having an online space where I can have fun and take a break from life, be riddled with people who I've seen talking like they're praying for my downfall

Seriously what the fuck

What. the fuck.

.

Now if you'll excuse me

[tarjapearce]

Ahem-Anon reporting for duty 🫡

I have come with a mighty need. The need is called: dragon miguel and mermaid reader. I mean hmmmggh? So cute? he a firey dragon, she a pretty lil mermaid? He totes call her his sirenita. Total opposites and kinda a forbidden love? A romeo and juliet thing, minius the tragic death ending. And they always secretly meet in a cave (miguel build it so his sirenita can swim there) they decorated it together and it’s just the best of both, their own little world and happy place. And i can’t help but wonder how do they do the 👀👀👀👀 and omg what if he gets her pregnant and all? Like he was away for a few months to defend his territory and she surprises him with her baby bum and its all dragon nest building and him being protective as f. Also scared because damn? This is a first since the beginning of time. Baby Gabi would totes be the first waterdragon 😂

Can I have your imagination borrowed for a second? Please? HOLY fuck. When I read dragon Miguel only reminded me of that beautiful fan art of him as a dragon I saw on Pinterest ♥️♥️. A bit long if you squint.

Crimson. His hands were covered in little crimson stains that oozed from his side. He was... injured.

Impossible.

A dragon? Like him? The King of Dragons. Foolish. But as much as he wanted to shake the measly pain that pulsated every time he moved forward, to the rocky cannon on the forgotten beach, it remained there, etched and oozing.

The cannons were used as his lair, his home. He collapsed on what seemed to be his bed, a l shaped stone that was a few meters away from a small entrance from the sea. Like a secret entrance.

The splashing as he collapsed alarmed him, red eyes shone in anger as a low growl echoed through. And then, his eyes settled on you. Burning eyes softened in curiosity as he saw dainty fingers peeking behind a stone, your eyes settled on him, watching his every move.

Was he hallucinating? No.

He certainly wasn't because the creature stared at him, more specifically to his wound. You went back on the water, long fish-like tail, shining softly, like if the rainbows had decided to adhere in your scales.

A mermaid?

He believed them extinct. Humans had surely haunted everything they could lay their wretched hands on.

A few moments later, the splashing returned, this time you weren't hiding behind the rock. You were before him, naked torso, wet hair stuck on your back. Hands holding what it seemed to be a moss-like plant within a shell. You offered. He frowned.

Why would he trust her? for all he knew Mermaids were also wretched creatures that lured men to death. But your frown matched his, like you had you just read his thoughts.

"Your blood will only attract other creatures that won't be as kind as I am" You mumbled. His eyes widened slightly. Of course you could speak. His blood dripped on the water and you scrunched your nose, pushing the shell further near him.

"You're welcome" you giggled and went back from where you came.

--------

Ever since that encounter, Miguel would certainly find subtle ways to lure you back to him. He surely wasn't inmune to mermaid beauty, his trust issues however made always to look past your looks, he wanted to find out what your intentions were, why you were always willing to just stare at him, expecting to something to happen, why would you always come back.

"Im just curious as to why I have been forbidden to mingle with the creatures above. You aren't that bad."

You'd smile sweetly at him to look back at the water.

"I gotta go. Will I see you again?"

He'd just nod and you disappeared.

His injury had been long healed. A couple of hours after you had offered the moss actually.

--------

He'd see you again and again, almost every day, a weird sort of fear settled in his chest whenever you didn't show up for more than three days. You had created this sort of routine where you would just show up, staring at eachother until one of you, (you mostly of the time) asked for questions.

What was up there on land? Was there a lot of humans? Who was he? Why was he hiding? Patiently he'd explain through short answers just to see the glint in your eyes at every word that came from his mouth.

Three days had passed, no sign from you, until you'd appear again, cuts and wounds covering your body, sweet scented blood oozed from your cuts, too tired to remain conscious.

Humans. They had tried to hunt you.

He'd pick you up and put you to safety, your torso resting in the sand. A few droplets of his blood wetted your lips. You'd be fine when he'd return. He turned on his back, rage boiling as the beast within him roared to be set free. He flew away with a new target on sight. The docks.

----

You were his adoration. Despite the world trying to hurt you, you remained kind, ever sweet and curious. You were his Sirenita.

He'd burn entire ships for you. The world itself if you asked him nicely enough. Dragon's nature prevented him to share with others. Not that he wanted to share you with anyone else anyway. It was only you and him.

The first kiss held so much passion, sweetness and longing. You couldn't lay in his lap without feeling dizzy by the lack of water after a few minutes. A trouble that seemed a big impediment to completely have you for himself.

He disappeared with the promise of coming back.

Was he?

You didn't know but hope set in your heart. He had never broken a promise so far.

----

Upon his return he gave you a small potion jar, you drank it after he explained what would it do. Bit by bit fins and scales were shedded from you, melding into humanoid like features, only to finally reveal supple and unmarred human legs and feet.

You were now also part human. He kissed you, cradling your wobbly body on his strong arms.

----

You mated almost every night, the once hidden cannon on the beach, forgotten, as he had taken you to his real home. Hidden away in the mountains, but close enough to the sea to sate your need of swimming and dive. You could shape-shift at will. But preferred to be with him, nesting in his arms.

-----

You'd notice your belly expanding and getting rounder by each month. He had noticed too. The urge to devour and crush anyone who trespassed in his home had only turned stronger, making his dragon form to become more vicious to the outside, yet careful to not being discovered.

Miguel would feed you, take care of you until a baby was born. It was a girl.

He was The Dragon King. And now a father.

A clueless one if you might add.

He'd flinch when tiny baby arms would flail to take a hold of him. He'd growl whenever said baby wailed at night, interrupting his rough mating with you. Strangely enough, his daughter only quieted down when he held her or you nursed her.

----

He'd marvel with pride as his daughter swum through the waters, faster than a ship could ever do. But of course the three would remain hidden from the world. Away from prying and wretched hands that could hurt you.

You both were his treasure. The things he held dear the most.

[thisismeracing]

It was always you | MS47

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader (she/her) ― Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI! ― Summary: Mick and Yn decided to stay friends after breaking off their two years relationship, but it seems like things weren't that broken. Maybe having the same friend circle and seeing each other all the time meant that things were never really over. ― A/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

⁕ based on this request ⁕ my masterlist | my taglist here ⁕ Support my writing by reblogging, and leaving me a message 🤍

itsmeyn

liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher, and others

itsmeyn highlights of the racing week (without the racing part) 🫶🏾

view all 4,782 comments

danielricciardo You told me you wouldn't post it 🧍🏻

⤷ pierregasly I guess she lied to you, mate

leclercimagination she’s so pretty ughhh ❤️

gaslightgasly can you imagine working for Ferrari and being friends with the whole grid like this?

⤷ racinginitaly and the fact that she dated Mick, but now they are still friends, like.... how can you be so... mature? adult? lol

landonorris thank you for cutting half of my face 👍

schumilover IS THAT MICK ON THE POLAROID??

yncloset Yn, what shade is the nail polish??

⤷ itsmeyn burning red! Not fancy though, I got it from Target lol

summerferrari bruh she looks like royalty 😩

estebanocon

liked by lewishamilton, itsmeyn, and others

estebanocon recharging 🔋🤙🏻

view all 6,209 comments

oconnational IS THAT AUGUSTUS? YN'S CAT?

⤷ ferrariyn totally looks like him

schumix47 estie bestie feeding us the best content

itsmeyn I love you buddy but your fashion sense kills me all the time

⤷ charles_leclerc I’ve head this before 🙄

⤷ pierregasly no but she’s actually right, bro 😅😂

⤷ lewishamilton I’ve never heard this before 😌😇

⤷ itsmeyn we gotta teach them, lew lewishamilton

sainzsalad Yn and Mick are back together, change my mind

⤷ directionerracing I won’t because I am as delulu as you so I believe it

mickschumacher 🤙🏻🤙🏻❤️

deathbyathousandcuts waiting for Yn to post something that tells us she's in Dallas with the Schumachers and Estie bestie 🧍🏻‍♂️

f1gossip

liked by fan1, user2, and others

f1gossip It looks like Mick Schumacher and Yn Yln were not able to stay "just friends" after their two-years relationship... 🤭

view all 406 comments

charlesgasly A FOREHEAD KISS I- *sobbing into my hands*

roscoetimme They semed to like each other too much, it was weird when they broke up, I knew they would eventually find their way back

ynandmick If even Yn goes back to her ex who am I to resist temptation??

mickschumacher

liked by lilyhme, lewishamilton, and others

mickschumacher it was always you 💙

view all 6,209 comments

spideyfan world is healing, yn and mick are back together 🥺

schumercedes they're back and he's even more in love, his account is now a yn fan account

roscoelovescoco I’s waitings to haves playdates with Augustus and Angies

itsmeyn 💙 my end game. I love you, micky

⤷ mickschumacher love you, Liebling 😘

mickswife 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 its over for us and Im not even mad about it

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts, send this piece to your friends, reblog, print and put on your wall, screenshot it, like it, reblog again, you know the drill hahahah jk jk but make sure to let me know if you liked it, it means a lot to me <3 *mwah*

taglist: @sachaa-ff @kenanlotus0 @dalsuwaha @mellowpizzapuppy @mickslover @crimeshowjunkie @iloveyou3000morgan @mishaandthebrits @formulakay3 @carojasmin2204 @fdl305 @saintslewis @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @leclercsluv @babyiscrying @balekane_mohafe @uuuseeerrr12

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — four

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary — kitty is yet again dragged to a social gathering she would rather not attend. the bait this time? weed!

paring — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!(journalist)!reader

disclaimer — who is expecting me to own peter parker by now?? bc i don’t

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty,’ weed, slightly inexperienced reader (experienced peter, no smut yet im sorry), possible ooc

Days like these were the ones Kitty craved: hazy, chilly spring weather that resembled fall, except that dying leaves were replaced by cherry-red buds, and flowers bloomed through blades of grass. It was one of those days with no responsibilities to fill her precious hours—the ones that were spent scrolling through Pinterest and reading. She was stretched haphazardly along her bed, still dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes in the armpits. The blinds were still closed, so the sudden beam of light next to her startled her.

“You love interrupting my dark-dwelling time,” she hissed as MJ entered the room. Sticking out her tongue, MJ closed the door behind her and sealed off the obnoxious light, much to Kitty’s relief.

“I’m sorry, my sun-hating princess,” MJ spoke dramatically as she rummaged through her bag, “But, I come bearing gifts.”

At this, Kitty perked up, swiping out of Project Makeover and sitting up to devote her full attention to her roomate. From her bag, MJ produced two plastic-wrapped chocolate-chip cookies and tossed them to bed. The girl pounced on them, immediately tearing into the plastic on one of the packs.

“I forgive you,” she said before biting into the treat.

“Thank God,” MJ replied in dramatic relief. Ease settled over the room as MJ removed her jacket and went about unpacking her things. Kitty, now finished with her first cookie, tossed the used plastic to the trash can across the room (and missed horribly). 

“What’ve you been up to this lovely Friday?” She asked her freckled friend, who was currently changing out of her cable knit sweater. 

“Oh, you know, class,” MJ responded as she slid a Stevie Nicks shirt over her head, “Some people still have class on Fridays.”

“That must be heartbreaking,” Kitty hummed sarcastically, “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah,” MJ’s movements were smooth as she went through her bag, “I had lunch with Harry after class.”

“Was the dining hall romantic?” Kitty questioned with a smile.

“Totally,” MJ responded with a laugh, “The black-bean burgers are basically aphrodisiacs. Anyways, he invited us out to Hot Rock around eight, so I was thinking we could get dinner–”

“No, thanks,” Kitty intercepted, bringing her legs up closer to her torso and flattening her lips to a line, “I’m not leaving the dorm today.”

“If you had it your way, you’d do that every day,” MJ groaned.

“And?’ Kitty quirked a brow, causing another grumble to leave her counterpart.

“Do you realize how much I say ‘no’ to stuff?” She continued, “‘Kitty, wanna go to a hockey game?’ No. ‘Kitty, wanna go to a frat party?’ No. Our entire relationship exists on the basis of you wanting to do stuff and me trying to refuse.”

“But you still went,” MJ raised her brows hopefully, “To both things. And it’s not like it’s just going to be Harry, he said some other people would be there.”

“Oh, great, other people, you know how much I love social gatherings where I don’t know anyone.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You know Peter,” MJ suggested. Kitty hadn’t seen Peter in a while. ‘A while,’ in her case, was a week. She’d gotten some semi-regular texts from him (cat memes and open invites to hang out) but hadn’t seen him since the frat party.

“Is it the best use of their time to be at Hot Rock when the semi-finals are two days away?” Kitty asked.

“No, probably not, but,” MJ’s smile, which had been dimming, came back with full vibrance, “But we can reap the benefits of their deviant behavior.”

“Are the benefits better than chocolate chip cookies?” She hummed.

“Pre-rolls and a bong,” MJ wiggled her fingers in a tamer version of jazz hands. Kitty seemed to deflate with a loud sigh.

“I hate that you make me do things.”

Hot Rock existed on the older, suburban side of campus. Right behind one of the major dining halls was a small, hidden space that hit the blind spot of the security cameras in the area. It wasn’t a rock so much as an artificial slab of stone with a metal pipe attached that spewed hot steam. It was connected to the heating system in the dining hall, but also served as a popular spot for stoners. A few of these man-made smoke spots were scattered around campus, but this one was the most popular, mainly because this rock was always much hotter than the others.

Kitty’s breath appeared in small puffs in the night air and she and MJ walked around the corner of the dining hall. It was spring, and the weather was getting warmer, but there was still a bit of frost. As they shuffled down a small slope, the rock revealed itself, decorated with about four people, one of them being Harry.

“MJ!” He nearly fell over himself scrambling towards the pair. He pressed a small kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her in greeting. MJ giggled, choosing to ignore Kitty’s gagging face.

“Kitty-cat!” Harry directed his grinning face to her, “I’m so glad MJ got you out of your tree.”

“I almost wish you’d just call me ‘bitch’ instead of that,” she replied. Harry, not losing any vigor, laughed.

“I know what you need.” He wagged his brows as he reached into the breast pocket of his flannel. He produced a mini pre-rolled joint with a proud grin, “Kitty needs her catnip.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” she said, and he simply chuckled. His eyes moved from hers, and somehow his impossibly bright smile widened. Kitty turned and was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

“I’m a big fan of catnip, too,” Peter grinned, sliding down to meet the rest of the group.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry let go of MJ for a moment to give Peter a half-hug. Peter’s eyes, however, never let go of Kitty. He held her gaze with ease.

“Can we sit? My ass is cold,” MJ grumbled lightly as Harry took his post next to her.

“Of course, of course,” was Harry’s hurried reply. The four found spots on the rock, Harry returning to his original spot and taking MJ with him. Kitty settled in a small nook where the slab met a natural rock formation, and, as if she was a magnetic pole, Peter sat next to her. A few awkward introductions were shared with the others at the rock, though, it was clear they were all at least a few hits into Harry’s pre-rolls. 

“So,” Peter’s voice cracked through the silence, “We keep finding each other, don’t we?”

“You keep finding me,” Kitty corrected.

“Same difference,” he shrugged. Wordlessly, he slipped his backpack from his shoulder and set it down in front of him. He worked in surprising order as he removed the items: a grinder, a small, rolled-up plastic bag, a green bong that had seen better days.

“Are student athletes supposed to be smoking?” She asked. For once, his gaze wasn’t focused on her, but on the contents before him.

“Helps with nerves,” he said, grabbing the baggy, “It’s medical, y’know.”

“Hm, I bet,” she replied. He worked with diligence: his long, slender fingers plucked a chunk of bud from the bag and trapped it in the grinder. The sleeves of his black long sleeve were rolled up, revealing his wrist that tensed lightly when he ground the bud. She’d never quite noticed how strong his hands looked—veiny and taught, likely from the hours upon hours of hockey practice. Then came the realization that she was staring, which pulled her attention away from him and to the others on the rock. Though there weren’t many people, pockets of conversation were created: MJ and Harry, who were cuddled up and passing a joint, two other members of the hockey team and a girl with shaggy blonde hair, and, of course, her and Peter. 

“Alright,” Peter hummed in satisfaction as he packed the bowl. He grabbed a red lighter from the front pocket of his jeans and finally looked at Kitty. He held the bong out for her with one of those easy, boyish smiles, “Wanna do the honors, Y/n?”

Peter seemed to be good at evoking emotions from her. Annoyance, frustration, confusion, and now, prickly embarrassment. She licked her lips, looking from the bong and back to him.

“Um,” she let out a small cough, “I’m…not sure how to?”

She wasn’t new to smoking. There was the occasional joint she and MJ would indulge in, or maybe she would take a hit off cart at one of the parties she was dragged to. She’d just hadn’t gotten the chance to hit a bong before—a fact that didn’t bother her until she was here, staring at Peter. She hated her reply and the way she stumbled with her words. She hated that she had nothing better to say. She hated that she had released blood into the water.

“You haven’t done this before?” He grinned. Her jaw clenched at the way he said that. Kitty, in response, sucked her teeth.

“Have you never smoked before?” He cocked his head.

“No, I have, just not this,” she sighed, a slight aggravated clip to her words. Peter must’ve noticed because his gloating grin softened.

“That’s alright,” his voice was more mellow now, “That’s okay, everyone has a first time.”

This persona, the calmer one he adapted when he knew she was getting pissed off, may have pissed her off even more. If he wasn’t being an asshole, it was harder to be annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with herself.

“Okay,” she said, a cleansing breath of chilled spring air filling her lungs.

“Okay?” He repeated, “You want to try?”

Kitty glanced at MJ and Harry. They weren’t doing anything graphic, but they were still all over each other, giggling and whispering. She turned back to Peter and nodded.

“You sure?” He raised a brow.

“Gimme,” she groaned, taking the glass bong from his hands. He let out a small, breathy chuckle and nodded.

“Okay, so,” he sat up, “I’m gonna light it, you breathe in through the mouth right here. I’ll pull the bowl for you and you keep breathing in, okay?”

Kitty nodded, her lips descending on the mouthpiece. A sudden flash of panic struck her as he flicked the lighter. Did she look stupid? Was she being stupid? Why did she care? Peter lit the bowl, and she did as he said, sucking in a deep drag. The bong bubbled to life and milky smoke flooded the tube.

“Good, good,” Peter encouraged as he pulled the bowl, “Keep sucking in—there you go, just like that.”

She’d been doing fine until he’d spoken. His words, meant as innocent encouragement, sent blood rushing to her face. Her scalp burned as her head reared back and ragged coughs escaped her. Smoke left her lips in puffs, like dust being stirred from an old book. Peter patted her back with one hand and rummaged through his bag with another.

“That happens,” he spoke, unphased by her continuous coughing. He took a metal water bottle decorated in stickers in various states of wear from his bag and unscrewed the lid.

“Here, drink,” he brought it to her lips and she immediately sucked down the water. It was cold against her burning throat. She focused on how cool it was, hoping it would also subdue the burning in her face. A few gulps later, Kitty was back to a semi-normal state. She took in deep breaths, swirling in oxygen with the cannabis in her lungs. 

“That was a big-ass hit. Good job,” Peter chuckled, “When was the last time you smoked?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? And thank you,” Kitty replied. There wasn’t a hint of snark in her words, which was highly unusual. The afterburn of her influx of new feelings was still there.

“That oughta do it,” he took the bong from her, “I mean, you can totally have more, but your tolerance is probably pretty low, and the hit you just took looked more like three.”

“Yeah, that oughta do it,” she coughed out. He eyed her, suspicious of her lack of sass, before lighting the bowl for himself.

The bong caught up with her within ten minutes. There was a low vibration in her body, one that pulsed in her fingertips and warmed her. Her vision was a bit more narrow now, like she was viewing movie through her vision. Her mind bubbled, and when her eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, she leaned back with astonished glee.

It wasn’t often that you saw stars in the sky on this side of New York. Usually, the city lights blocked out anything non-artificial. But here, a mile or so away from the more prominent lights, she was able to see the glimmer of distant stars. It was captivating, really, and she could’ve stared at them for hours. Maybe she did. People buzzed around her without her recognition. Even Peter seemed to settle into a comfortable silence next to her. 

“Do you remember that one episode of Hannah Montana where Miley moves into a new house and there’s a pizza oven? Like, one of those wood ovens you put pizza in. A pizza oven? Yeah?” She asked, glancing in Peter’s direction. He seemed to only slightly register the question before looking at her with a cocked brow.

“No,” he replied.

“Oh,” she hummed, “What about the one where—it’s the third episode, I think—the one where Oliver—no, it’s the second episode—the one where Oliver is in love with Hannah Montana, but he doesn’t know it’s Miley, so Miley and Lilly are like ‘oh, no!’” 

“No,” he repeated. His voice wasn’t harsh, though. It was soft, maybe even curious.

“It’s good,” she said, “Real good. Real good.” 

It was around then that the stars began to lull her to sleep. There was something comfortable about this moment: the heat of the rock, the stars, the weed in her system. She drifted off for a moment and was quickly awoken by a gentle shake.

“Y/n?” Peter called lightly, “Are you sleepy?”

His hand was on her arm. His hand was on her arm. Her eyes settled on that before she could even begin to process his words. His hand was lovely, truly, with its web of veins, the slender fingers that warmed her skin. She looked up to him and smiled.

“Hey!” Was her cheery reply. He laughed at this and nodded. Kitty cocooned inside herself once more as he turned away and called out to someone on the other side of the rock. She heard Harry, then MJ, then Peter again. It sounded like hearing a foreign language as the spoke.

“Would you like to sleep in your bed instead of this rock?” Peter asked. Kitty, still cocooned, sprung forward a bit.

“Yes,” she responded confidently. He couldn’t help but smile at her tone. He packed away his bag swiftly and stood, offering a hand to Kitty.

“You think I can’t stand up? Oh, I can stand up—I’m an olympic stander,” she mumbled, rejecting his hand. This side of her was something Peter had never experienced. He was used to snippy comments and sharp replies, but the inebriated, bumbling Kitty was an entirely different person. He liked it. A lot.

They began their trek back to Kitty’s dorm in silence. It was comfortable like this: quiet interrupted by the occasional off-key hum by the girl. It wasn’t a very far walk, only five minutes or so, and when they reached the front, Peter’s tight grin loosened a bit.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hand gently catching her arm. In this state, she wasn’t able to deny the electric current that was sent through her nervous system. Kitty shivered as she met his eyes.

“I know you’re not in the right headspace for this, so I’ll ask you again later, but…” he trailed off. He looked away from her, and she caught the way his throat bobbed slightly. This lasted for only a moment before he was making eye contact again, “Do you wanna come to semis?”

That wasn’t the question she expected. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Instead of responding, she stared blankly at him.

“It’s not here, it’s actually kind of far away,” he was rambling now, “Well, not super far, it’s in New Jersey. It’s sort of late notice, so I know you might not want to go, and you have your own shit to worry about, too, so—”

“This is very weird,” Kitty interrupted.

“What?” Peter stopped, looking to her with a quirked brow.

“You’re acting nervous and talking a lot. Weird,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I am nervous, and I’m a little high, and you’re really hot, so there’s just a lot going on up here.” He gestured to his head. Her eyes were blank for several seconds before they sparked in recognition.

“Oh—oh.” Her expression changed rapidly, eventually landing on something akin to realization. Silence swelled between them for a moment before it was broken by one word: “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Peter repeated.

“Maybe,” she nodded in agreement. His lips tugged into a boyish smile once more.

“Okay, Y/n,” he grinned, “Maybe.”

a/n — (in the voice of that one meme) heyy….how y’all doin??? okay so im sorry that this update is months late, college has been a lot. it’s been fun tho!! like, i think im the happiest ive ever been. anyways, im sorry if this update doesn’t fit as well with the others, im trying to get back into the groove of writing, forgive me 🙏 love u guys!!

taglist

@reidslovely @awezomezauce @tarzinnia @fr3akho3 @multilovebot @collywobbl @naok-iyuu @kay-i-guess @littlexscarletxwitch @ujimoo

[beegalactica]

HOT GIRLS ARE CONSCIOUS.

I haven't been on Tumblr in about 3 months (life has been busy), and when I finally decided to check back in today, I kept seeing the same thing over and over again, so I am here to dispel some myths.

If you have seen any of my posts, you will know the issues I have with traditional TikTok-y trendy 'glow-up' advice, but today I realised how much of it is just a ploy to get us to spend tons of money on things we CAN live without. I think we all need to be more CONSCIOUS: conscious of what we can realistically afford and implement into our daily lives.

For example, in a typical 'glow-up' advice post, tiktok or youtube video, they recommend these super unrealistic routines that include a full skincare routine of every type of cream you could ever imagine, and an incredibly detailed list that lays out how you need to spend every 10 minutes of your day in order to achieve this perfect form.

It's all hear-say.

Don't get roped into thinking that you need those brand new clothes, or you need those skincare items to be your best self. The idea of turning your 'glow-up' into a sustainable part of your life is to do things you can manage to do over and over again. The secret to glowing up permanently is having a routine that keeps you happy and healthy. Instead of buying a full shelf of skincare all in one go, get 1 or 2 items with positive reviews to start. You don't need to throw out your whole wardrobe and sell your soul to TEMU just to look aesthetic; use what you have. Rather than making short term impulsive purchases, treat every part of your life as an investment.

Especially when it comes to clothing, being someone who has lost weight and no longer fits into all their old clothes, instead of throwing everything out and starting from scratch, I bought a little amazon sewing kit with a couple of needles and different types of thread and started cutting and sewing my way to a better wardrobe. (Even TODAY, I turned an old pair of jeans that I never wear into a cute miniskirt all from a 5 minute YouTube tutorial.) If sewing isn't your thing, you can try using some hemming tape and an iron, fabric glue, or whatever you can. Be conscious of the things you buy and how often you buy them.

I know lots of people like thrifting, and you can thrift online with apps like Vinted, which I personally use and love, if you don't have access to massive thrift stores like they do in America (I'm totally not jealous at all 🙄🙄; I live in the UK and the closest things I have near me are charity shops but there's a sort of stigma around shopping in them but honestly who cares what others think).

When you shop for clothes, look for timeless and versatile pieces you can mix and match, layer and style with lots of different things, allowing you to wear them well. Try to find good staple pieces, that will make the basis of your wardrobe. Be an outfit repeater. Do not blindly follow trends; take the time to curate and explore to find your style. Make a massive Pinterest board of everything you think looks good, and start to make a list of common items of clothing and accessories you save the most; these will be your staples. Don't feel like you have to stick strictly to one aesthetic; my wardrobe ranges from 'fairycore' maxi skirts to y2k denim skirts, but what matters is that I am mindful of whether I will use the things I want to buy.

Of course, feel free to treat yourself, you 100% deserve it, but don't get sucked into the idea that your self worth is determined but WHAT you have; instead it should be how you FEEL in what you have.

I like to see my blog as a little notebook of things I wish I could have told my younger self, and things I want to remind my future self, and I feel like it would be a disservice to not talk about the oversaturation of our feeds with infinite products, to the point where everything feels like an AD.

Moral of the story: don't just take everything you see online at face value. Don't get trapped in extensive consumerism; it's bad for your bank account, it's bad for the environment and it's bad for your mental health.

Also here's my Pinterest if you want to have a peek around <3 Pinterest

[tsublue]

Moon phases & personality

By @tsublue / All Rights Reserved to @tsublue

Photo creds: @minimalist_acount ~ Pinterest; me; @jackiedibs ~ Pinterest

There’s a total of 7 main phases the moon goes through before starting a new cycle to repeat it all over again.

Each phase has it’s own characteristics that can be relevant to the person being born under the phase.

New Moon

Soul searching throughout whole life, misunderstood/ hard to understand, awareness for surroundings and strong mental psyche.

That can also mean they are creative and spontaneous.

Child- like behavior in a way in other’s eyes. Everything new.

To reach your full potential you need to balance out your bursts of energy for it to last evenly and for it to not run out so fast so it can result in being tired overall and unmotivated.

Waxing Crescent

Positivity, adventure, taking action and working towards goals, motivated & curious.

Leaning towards on the ‘self- care’ personality and outlook.

To develop it you need to step out of your comfort zone and make yourself uncomfortable from time- to time in order to grow as a person.

First Quarter

Mental strength, competent, restless, can be work oriented - restless.

Impatience, takes on risks, passionate, inquisitive and communicative.

The protagonist of your own life.

If you can develop the art of patience to complement your strong personality, you will reach your full potential.

Waxing Gibbous

Caretaker, perfectionist philosophical, successful relationships, motivated & calming.

You need to surround yourself with people who truly care for and love you. There’s a need to develop a sense of intuition/ knowledge to spot people trying to overly dominate or use you.

Can be an amazing mentor/ guide for others.

Full Moon

Extremes, aggression, thinking with head instead of heart, desires

(Astrological natal sun and moon are in a conflict.)

To reach your full potential you need to realize you have even control over your actions and thoughts. Working out your power and abilities will lead you to success.

Waning Crescent

Posessions, talents, knowledge, imagination, psyche, dreams.

Since the phase is the one that’s gone through all it has gathered a lot of wisdom and learned & gathered a lot.

There can be a connection with the spiritual side even if it’s not realized.

There can be isolation involved due to connection with spirituality and intuition even observing so in order to reach your highest potential you need to share your thoughts and even maybe mentor those in need. Trying to get out there and reducing isolation can be beneficial.

Waning Gibbous

Wise, communication, spirituality, reflections, endings, seeking for higher knowledge and understanding. The mentor.

To become the best version of yourself you need to learn to be as understanding of others. Let others add their ideas and opinions too.

Third Quarter

Holding onto the past, attachment, kindness, loyalty, absentmindedness.

People may describe you as too in the clouds or inside your own world.

In order to grow obviously you need to learn to let go of the past and let yourself create the new memories instead of repeating the same ones like a broken record.

!! The phases are not forcefully trying to put you in a box or label. There can be aspects of it that can be relevant, but not for someone to base their whole personality or existence off of it or follow it at all cost.

Please do not copy, rewrite, repost, steal and etc any of my work. If wanted to use parts of it then contact the author and always give credits.

Love, Tsunami

[lazerdash]

Harry Potter

Headcanons

photos from Pinterest - collage made by LazerDash

Summary: Spending time with the HP characters!

Word Count: 880

Warning: fluff, wholesome, cedric being a hopeless romantic, cuddles, kisses, hand holding, draco being draco.

A/N: I love the idea of how each of these characters act and just wanted to give my shot into making them! I hope ya'll like it.

-----> ☆

Harry:

• he will hang out with you anywhere to be honest

• you want to go to hogsmeade? He'll pay for whatever you want (boy is rich, don't forget that)

• he'll hold your hand the entire time to hogsmeade

• or he'll have a hand on on your waist/hip

• don't wanna go to hogsmeade?

• that's okay too!!

• he'll take you back to his dorm and hold you

• honestly he probably uses you as an excuse to not study or do his work sometimes

•though he will deny it if you ever bring it up

• he just wants to spend time with you! what's so wrong with that? right...?

• he might even let you try his glasses on if you ask lol

• he loves to make you laugh

• the jokes between you two is so wholesome as well

• he'll get all blushy if you call him cute too

• and deny it ofc and call you cute instead

Hermione:

• you + her = library

• just kidding... Well, not entirely.

• she definitely would love to show you her favorite books! (if you two have the free-time)

• she loves to read to you.

• and if the two- you weren't caught up on school work, she'd be there to help you.

•maybe she'll even cut you some slack if you haven't been feeling well lately.

• Besides that, you two might go hangout at Hogsmeade (she likes the three broom sticks)

• again, whenever she is free... she can't have her grades- or yours! Being interfered with.

• she may love you, but she also wants to make sure both of your education is well taken care of.

• she'll want to share all of her favorite places with you, that includes the library.

• it makes her happy that she can trust you can take you to those private locations

• once she trusts you enough she will take you to all of her favorite locations when she was a kid

• she may even make it a whole special day planned out for the two of you

Draco:

• this lil shit-

• he will presist for the longest time that he doesn't want to spend time with you

• for you to get him to hang out with you, you have to make him think it is your idea-

• and plead with him.

• "reluctantly" he will agree...

• be aware he will totally be complaining the whole time

• don't worry, he'll shut his mouth once you hold his hand

• he doesn't want to admit it but he secretly likes it (shhhh-)

• if you take him to the three broom sticks he will complain at first

• since he is so use to having some "actual" food

• he WILL be the one paying for the two of you though (so that's a plus)

• if you even suggest going anywhere near the forbidden forest-

• he will refuse

• he can't go be getting himself dirty.

• plus he has some bad memories associated with the forbidden forest (and dat bloody chicken!)

• so no Hagrid's hut or forbidden forest.

• if you two are looking for some more quiet time he will take you back to his dorm room where you two can just hold eachother.

• he doesn't want anyone to see you two in public or even to see him being so lovey dovey in front of others

Cedric:

• Loves holding your hand

• kissing your cheeks, head, hand

• he is a huge romantic!

• if you like more private locations then he'll cuddle you in his dorm room (he'll even sneak you in some food if you're hungry)

• but if you enjoy more outdoors or just wanna be social!

• He will take you to the three broom sticks (he will not let you pay)

• he will also take you to honeydukes! if you like sweets, he will be getting your favorites

• he will make this a whole day planned just for the two of you

• wether it is because the stress of school has been weighing on your shoulders

• or just because the two of you haven't had some time together lately

• he might even introduce you to his friends some time

• just so you two can hang out together more often and be apart of the same friend groups

Luna:

• You guys would totally be hanging out on the edge of the forbidden forest (or in it)

• basking in the sunlight and hanging out with the theastrals

• if you can't see the theastrals then she will tell you all about them.

• she might even take you to some other magical creature that you can see

• i swear all of these magical creatures just automatically love her (does that also make us a magical creature?)

• if you guys happen to be not be in the forbidden forest, you'll be hanging out next to the black lake

• sitting together as you talk about how your days have been

• if it is a special day or you guys just don't wanna hang outside

• she'll hangout with you inside the castle! she'll even point out the nargles floating around in people's ears

• not yours though (you're too pure to have nargles, I guess?)

• though, she prefers nature and the creatures

• if you two get hungry in sometime between then you guys will go sneak some food

• or you could just head to hogsmeade and grab something to eat there

• she also likes to hold your hand and walk beside you!

• and don't be afraid to tell her she is cute!! she'll thank you

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO LAZERDASH

MASTERLIST

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

can I req yandere Ben x reader moodboard and headcanons? I feel like he watches you through your computer camera

-🦇 anon

Summary: Yandere Ben drowned x reader hcs

Genre: Angsty-ish?? nothing too bad though

Warnings: Yandere themes, so stalking, murder, obsession, etc.

A/n: 🦇 is no longer here, so if you wanna take this anon name feel free to do so! Also AGH I LOVE WRITING YANDERE STUFF

Credits: Ben drowned- Creepypasta, Divider- benkeibear, Drawing of Ben- shatteredankles (instagram), Other pictures- Pinterest

Yandere Ben drowned hcs

The thing with Ben is, he's so nonchalant with everything he does, it takes a lot to get him to show any emotion

So when he gets obsessed, he gets OBSESSED

He has a knack for finding people, switching between random people's webcams trying to find a specific person for a mission

But as he mindlessly clicks through different lists of different people, pulling up any names that intrigue him, he finds you

Immediately he is drawn to you, he doesn't know why, but he is

And when he sees your face, so focused on the task at hand, he knows he needs you

He doesn't know how he needs you, or how he even thinks he's going to go about acquiring you, but something about you entrances him

After his death he's so used to feeling numb and disconnected from the world, both physically and emotionally

But seeing you there, it makes him feel things again, as if he were alive again

And he doesn't want to stop this feeling

So he stares and watches you through your webcam for hours, his prior mission being totally forgotten

That is, until you suddenly yawn, stretch, and turn your computer off

He jumps a little at the sudden blank screen, and quickly rushes to see if you have your phone on

Frantically typing and clicking, he breathes a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding when he finally finds your phone and looks through it's camera

Even though its screen isn't on, the phone itself is, so he can still see you

That is, until you plug it in and set it on the nightstand beside you

Then all he sees is the ceiling

He sighs and rubs his eyes before putting your phone's window on another monitor and going back to the task at hand

Once done, he begins to research you a little more (making sure to have windows open for any cameras you may have in your house)

He learns your home address, where you go to work, your full legal name, social security number, interests, hobbies, etc

By the time you wake up and begin getting ready for the day, he feels like he has known you for years instead of just a few hours

When he sees your phone camera start to move he gets so excited, hurrying to bring the window over to his main monitor and watch you as you go about your morning routine

He watches you nonstop for weeks straight, only stopping when you go to sleep and he can no longer see you, but even then, he fills that time with researching you or scrolling your socials

It is only when Jeff is in his room a week later that he even thinks of the possibility of being something with you

Jeff is annoyed by the fact that all Ben's been doing for a solid month now is obsessing over you, so with a big groan he says "If you like them so much, go get em! What're they gonna do, say no? You're a ghost man!"

Only then does Ben realize that he is actually dead, and can basically have you all he wants

He doesn't have to watch you through cameras, because he can make himself invisible and spy on you that way instead

If you got scared, it's not like you could hurt him in any way, because you'd phase right through him

And best of all, if anyone tries to interfere with you and him, he could easily scare them off

So with this new knowledge, he sets off in search of you

Which of course, isn't far considering he already knows exactly where you live

And every day for months, he follows you around everywhere you go, never more than a foot away from you

Your friends have picked up on something strange, and are very uncomfortable being around you now

Whenever they're around you, they get a weird feeling in their gut telling them that something isn't right, oftentimes your hair randomly just starts floating as if someone is playing with it, and your apartment is always just so cold....

This being said, you are now very isolated and lonely

Ben sees his chance in this, and begins leaving you little gifts, things he knows you'd like

Once you get accustomed to the gifts, he begins leaving letters, slowly revealing who he is, and his love for you

At first you are just happy to have someone that likes you despite how uncomfortable everyone seems to be around you

Then it evolves into curiosity over the identity of this strange person

And then, you begin to feel the beginnings of a romantic interest starting to bloom for this stranger

It is only once you are obsessed with figuring out who he is, sometimes coming home and just begging into the air for them to reveal themselves, because you know they're with you somewhere, does he dare reveal himself

You are on your hands and knees, begging and pleading for him to just give you a hint as to who he is "I won't tell anyone" you promise

It is then that you feel the familiar cold chill go up your spine, and you know he is near

You don't speak or move, scared you'll upset him into silence in some way

You then hear a voice by your ear whisper "Cross your heart and hope to die?"

You gasp at the new information you have: a voice

"Yes" You whisper back

A hand begins to fade into view, and it comes to cover your mouth to stop you from screaming

You then feel a body form behind you, his other hand coming to rest on your hip, pulling you into his body

He's as cold as death and slightly translucent, and as you turn to look into a reflective surface, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, you are stopped when you feel him begin to nibble on your ear

"You'll get to see me soon, princess/prince. All you have to do is keep true to that promise"

And with that he fades away, as if he was never there

[fluentmoviequoter]

Imagine: being in a long distance relationship with deacon and you surprise him at home. He doesn’t know it and is still at the HQ. Hondo knows about your surprise and sends him home with a knowing smile after the shift. When Deacon comes home he finds you sleeping in his bed

Oh my gosh, this is adorable. I'm not totally sure if you wanted a fic or not, but I wrote one! I hope you like it and please let me know what you think!

Warnings: fluff!

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Long Distance to the Future

Since you left Los Angeles to take a new job across the country, you’ve stayed committed to Deacon and he to you. The job is supposed to be temporary, only it is indefinitely temporary. It’s been nearly three years since you started dating Deacon, but it will be your first anniversary away from him. It would be a lie to say long distance is easy, but it’s worth it. You haven’t used a single vacation day since you started, so you’re checking the price of flights to LAX, hoping you can afford to surprise Deacon for your anniversary. The first few months of long-distance were surprisingly easy since you were getting settled and forming a new routine, but now that things are settled, you miss Deacon more than anything. The screen finally loads, and you cheer in your quiet bedroom when the low price appears. You quickly book your ticket, prepared to see Deacon in person again. You text Hondo and ask him to call when he has time, hoping to get his help in the surprise.

Your phone rings less than a minute later, and you answer before the second ring. “Hello?” you greet, expecting Hondo.

“I have big news!” your boss cheers. “You got the promotion; if you want it, its yours!”

“Are you serious?” you ask, experiencing the second miracle in less than ten minutes. “This is such an honour, I don’t know what to say.”

“Think it over for a day or two then let me know, okay? Congratulations, you deserve it!”

“Thank you! I- can I sign the contract while I’m on my trip?”

“Oh, I forgot you’re off this week. Yes, we can do it online or we can just get a written acceptance and handle the paperwork when you get back. I’ll let you get back to your vacation, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. Have a great time and talk soon.”

The call ends, and you lay back on your bed, kicking your feet up in excitement. Your phone rings again, and you see Hondo’s name, smiling as the pieces of your plan begin falling into place.

✯✯✯✯✯

The landing in LA is a little bumpy, but nothing can take the smile off your face. You practically skip through the airport, energized by your countdowns until you are back in the same time zone, state, county, and now, city as your boyfriend. Hondo is leaning against his car, smiling, when you walk out.

“Thank you so much,” you tell him, hugging him before he takes your bag to put in the trunk.

“I should be thanking you. He misses you,” Hondo replies as he opens your door.

“I missed him, too.”

“When do you leave?”

You let the question hang, waiting until Hondo is in the driver’s seat with the door closed to answer, “About that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Hondo drops you off at Deacon’s house, giving you his spare key to get inside before Deacon returns from work. Waving at Hondo, you go inside and lock the door behind you. You leave all of the lights off and hide your shoes and bags in Deacon’s closet so there is no evidence of you visible when he walks in. Checking your watch, you see that Deacon should be home in about an hour, so you order his favorite food for dinner and wait in the kitchen, away from the windows (in case he gets home early), for the delivery. Once the food is dropped off, you hide the containers in the microwave and throw away the bag before walking to Deacon’s bedroom to wait. The adrenaline is wearing off, and you’re getting tired, even though you know Deacon should be home soon. Sitting on the edge of his bed, you wipe your eyes before realizing how tired you are. You yawn once and fail to find the motivation to get back up.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alright, Deac, head out and get some rest,” Hondo says. “The rest of us got behind on our paperwork.”

“Okay,” Deacon says, his brows furrowed as he walks by. “Have a good night, guys. Don’t work too hard.”

He walks out to his car, a little suspicious as to why Hondo seemed so eager to send him home, but he’s tired and misses you, so he’s okay with a quiet night at his house.

Parking in his driveway, Deacon sighs before exiting the car and going inside. He puts his backpack in the front closet and then walks toward his bedroom, ignoring the kitchen and planning to order food later. When he walks into his bedroom, he freezes, part of his mind telling him to get a weapon while the other works on recognizing who is sleeping on his bed.

He whispers your name and smiles when you move your arm, exposing your face. He sits on the edge of the bed beside you and lays a hand on your back, leaning down to kiss your temple. You stir slightly under his touch, unconsciously moving closer to him.

Running his fingers over your hairline and down your jawline, Deacon keeps his attention on you, questions to ask when you wake up flooding his mind.

You stir again and crack your eyes open. When you see Deacon, you sit up slightly and blink before asking, “Deacon?”

He nods, slipping his arm around your waist to help you sit up. You lean against him and look up into his eyes. You missed his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I was trying to surprise you and didn’t realize how tired I was, I guess,” you apologize, pinching Deacon's shirt collar between your fingers.

He takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb, looking into your eyes as he speaks. “Don’t apologize. I’m so happy to see you. Why am I seeing you?”

You laugh at his question, leaning against him as he twists you so your legs are draped across his lap as he leans against his headboard.

“I had a bunch of vacation days built up and.. I really wanted to see you. I missed you so much and our anniversary is coming up,” you explain.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” you and Deacon say together.

“Well, it’s an excellent surprise. You didn’t leave any evidence you were here. Although, how did you get in?”

“Hondo let me use his key.”

“Hondo. Of course. That’s why he wanted me to go straight home. Are you hungry?”

“I ordered food. It’s hidden in your kitchen,” you reply.

“You’re amazing.”

“I know. You’re pretty amazing, too.”

“This was an excellent surprise. Thank you,” Deacon says as he pulls you to your feet.

“There is one more thing,” you say, squeezing his hand.

“Okay,” Deacon says slowly.

“I got a promotion.”

Deacon’s eyes widen as he picks you up, twirling you around. You laugh, holding onto his shoulders. Your hands stay on his shoulders as he sets you back down.

“That’s amazing! Congratulations, you deserve it!”

“That’s not the good part.”

“What’s the good part? That seems pretty good.”

You lean up, close enough to kiss him, as you say, “It’s in Los Angeles.”

Deacon closes the small gap, kissing you like you’re his source of life. When you finally pull back, breathless and feeling whole with Deacon in your arms, you know you made the right decision to come home and take the job.

“Did you forget about the food?” you ask, laughing as Deacon kisses your cheek.

“We can reheat that. I had food earlier, I haven’t seen you in,” he looks at his watch to say, “11 months, 2 weeks, and 14 hours.”

“No minutes?” you ask.

“Just this one,” he replies, pulling you in just to push you backward onto the bed where he found you.

You laugh and cup his face in your hands. “I love you, Deacon Kay.”

“I love you,” Deacon says, his eyes glancing toward the top drawer of his nightstand, where a black velvet box is hidden. Future Mrs. Kay, he adds to himself.