#given what p3 is like

[dittydipity]

listening to the full versions of color your night and full moon full life deadass got me tearing up persona 3 is so good man

[cobaltfluff]

so i started playing persona 4

where are the QoL features

[crescentfool]

i cant believe i forgot that im a fire emblem enjoyer 🙄 i was reading some of my notifs/tags from that one post about the video game series you've played the longest and oh my god.

i would like to apologize to fire emblem for forgetting that i've played it even though it's probably one of the longest standing series in my life next to pokemon and xenoblade... 💀 (<- they have 565 hours in fire emblem, 170 in awakening, 45 for fates, 75 for sov, and 275 for three houses and perhaps a few hours from feh but we don't talk about that)

anyway. did you know i like fire emblem. and that i like reading tags. i hope you all have swag times with whatever game series makes you happy! 💙

[235uranium]

if it was up to me p6 would actually just be connecting all of the previous persona games. like ik persona is supposed to be "episodic' in nature, but it would be nice to kinda... idk tie up the past 5 and then move onto new stories with a clean slate?

theres clearly a ton of interest in the fanbase for a crossover game to connect all of the lore- it's the primary reason people are begging for p5 arena. we want to see all these characters meet!

making it a main series game would give them actual time to explore a wider plot + they could reestablish philemon and nyarly as existing (and maybe explain how igor GOT KICKED OUT OF THE FUCKING VELVET ROOM????)

solidify the lore. wrap up p5r properly. and move onto p7 with a fresh slate.

[princekirijo]

This might sound weird but, am I the only person who thinks the P3 Personas look less like a human in a costume and more like a supernatural entity than the ones from 2, 4, and 5? Penthesilea, Hypnos, and Ceasar especially hit a level of uncanny valley (That's very clearly not a human but why does it look so human) that I don't think other personas have reached yet.

Honestly I get exactly what you mean! I've personally felt that a lot the Persona 3 Personas, particularly the initial ones, feel less human and more robotic in design (supernatural entity is a pretty good way of describing it too!). I think the reasoning behind the initial ones being more robotic is because SEES are all very closed off from each other and their own emotions to an extent!

They start off as a club and see each other more as coworkers and also they haven't undergone their character development yet. That's at least why I feel they're different to the other personas in the series because at least for the modern games, they don't have that same friendship dynamic as the other groups do! It could also just have been the art direction for the game given how dreary the game is? There's a point here I just can't quite put my finger on it.

Note on the Strega personas like Hypnos: They def feel weird and strange (even compared to the others in P3) probably because their personas weren't awakened naturally and were very forced!

[heavenbarnes]

@abcdbleh you little beauty 🫶🏼 this is in the “cellular-device-universe” | p1 p2 p3 p4

you had managed an incredible feat, what with bringing your older bf!simon around to the idea of sex over the air waves.

you’d effectively achieved the impossible.

well, something you’d thought impossible given who he was as a person. some guy, simple guy, practical and not remotely interested in anything he doesn’t think worth his time.

that’s the thing- when it comes to you?

everything is worth his time.

you could tell him that you’d booked an all expenses paid couples trip to the fucking moon and he’d have your bags in the car before you’d even finished speaking.

he likes that look on your face when you’re happy.

you’d imagined that getting him to send you videos whilst he stroked his cock would be difficult, but now your hidden folder is bursting at the seams.

you had no idea how easy it’d be to have him send you photos in just his briefs, tattooed arm barely illuminated by low light as his large hand gripped himself through the fabric.

but here you were.

laid back in your bed, awfully roomy without a hulking great simon to take up three quarters of it, your phone was pressed to your ear.

“what y’mean, love?”

the deep, rolling rumble of his voice would probably do it if you tried hard enough. you could have him read the menu from the local chinese takeout and make do. he just had that effect on you.

“i mean- i want you to touch yourself and talk me through it, si”

you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, a stuttered little exhale and a crackle over the line. he was in the middle of nowhere (far as you were concerned) but he could still find it to keep you satisfied.

simon would never have you settle for less.

the quiet you could hear on his end wasn’t nerves, you knew him well enough to immediately detect- inexperience?

there was very little simon didn’t know how to do in the bedroom but bring any virtual factors (like a cellphone) and he just needed a couple directions.

he needed an order.

“si, i want to get off to your voice, the sound of you touching yourself- i want you to cum and i want to hear about it in excruciating detail”

you could hear how scratchy his military grade blanket was, woollen and likely older than you, being pushed down his body.

no shuffle of clothing, he was already stark naked in his cot. he’d been with rest of the 141 long enough, you just assume they’ve all seen each other in their entireties. sharing rooms, sharing showers.

you can’t think about that kind of thing too long. the implications that come with it.

the sound of simon spitting in his palm drags you out of steam filled visions, kyle asking your boyfriend for help getting his back, johnny watching wide-eyed but waiting for his signal.

anyway- anyways, the sound of his large palm dragging along his cock had you back in the present for good. you could almost picture the way his foreskin would be rolling down the head.

“already s’fuckin hard for you”

“i bet”

a bet that’d make you a billionaire.

you could count on simon for a lot of things but as sure as the sun rises in the east, that man would be hard for you.

you’d say a gentle breeze would do it. he’d say only if you were blowing.

cheek of him.

faint sounds, faint sounds of his hand tugging on himself but you needed more. you needed it fucking filthy and unmistakable across the line that he was doing one thing.

“more spit, si- need to hear it”

and you could, spit mixed with the leaking pre-cum that was running from his head. soon the sound was circling your eardrums as he worked up a steady rhythm.

“been lookin’ at y’little pictures”

deep sigh as he said it, like he was thinking back to you in compromising positions. you could almost see him with his eyes drifting shut, phone between his ear and shoulder whilst both hands preoccupied by his cock and balls.

“can’t hardly wait to get home to you”

as one hand stroked along his length, running his fingers over the head, the other would be cupping his heavy sack as he rolled them both in his palm.

“y’been teasing me, sweet’art”

large feet would be planted on the threadbare mattress, his thighs tensing the more he tugged himself off. you knew he’d be imagining you in his lap, doing all the work for him so he could focus on running his mouth.

“jus’y wait till i get m’hands on you”

your heart was in your throat with every word he said, you’d no doubt he’d stay true to his word. you had visions of him throwing the front door open and telling you to run.

finding you crawling across the bed to duck down the other side but his grip tightening around your ankle before you could get away.

you had to leave that feeling in the pit of your stomach before you got lightheaded but, as usual, simon knew you better.

“what’s goin’ on in that pretty head f’yours? thinkin’ about all the nasty things i’ll do t’you?”

a squeak of a moan slipped out of you, back arching in the bed as simon chuckled down the line. he always knew exactly what he was doing to you.

calculated man, comes with the territory.

“first thing i’m gonna’ do is stuff my cock in’y, got a couple’a loads saved up just f’you”

you couldn’t imagine how, all the filthy videos he’d been sending you. thick load after thick load spilt over his chest, his thighs, the shower drain.

but, then again, you’ve yet to find a thing he wouldn’t do for you.

“gonna’ keep y’in that fuckin’ bed till y’begging f’mercy”

you could hear it on his voice, the strain that was behind it. he was close, closer than ever but you couldn’t stop him once you got him going.

whenever he was on that precipice of bliss, the things that’d come out of his mouth could turn you inside out.

“gonna’ cum f’you, sweet’art- need you to-“

the blood was rushing so hard in your ears you nearly missed his words as they tapered off into broken moans. nearly missed.

“what d’you need, si? tell me, whatever you need it’s yours”

distant filthy sounds of a wet palm sliding along his cock was ever present in the background of the call. a long sigh drifted from his lips as he spoke.

“tell me t’cum, please”

jesus fucking christ.

there’s no coming back from the sound of simon riley begging.

“cum f’me, simon- need to hear you- make a mess f’me, baby”

the sound that left his chest was filthy, a deep groan intertwined with the sounds of cheap mattress springs. breathy stuttered moans broke through, your name a constant on the tip of his tongue.

he sounded desperate, no doubt still stroking himself even as his hips lifted off the cot. he wasn’t about making it easy on himself.

everything he did was for you.

listening as he rode it out, you could hear him still muttering between the other debauched sounds.

“fuckin’ take it, s’fuckin’ good f’me”

anther broken cry of your name only confirmed it. in simon’s eyes, he wasn’t pumping his cum across in his chest, he was pumping you full of it.

he’d gone too long without the feeling of you wrapped tight around him, only knowing the rough drag of his palm. he’d give anything to be in his bed, buried to the fucking hip in you.

simon’s breathing evened out, broad chest rising and falling with a sticky sheen across it. you could even make out the sound of his head hitting the pillow.

“fucking ‘ell, sweet’art- how was that?”

nothing if not an overachiever.

“perfect, si- you did absolutely perfect”

if he was with you he’d been keening into your touch, a soft side of him that only you were allowed to see.

softening further in his afterglow, you wrapped up with praises and promises to be waiting for him soon as he got home.

your entire body felt like it could sink through the mattress as you curled into his side of the bed, letting the scent of him overwhelm every part of you.

eyes shutting on their own, you’d nearly hit sleep when your cellphone buzzed on the bedside table. a little bleary eyed, you reached for it in the darkness.

“si sent a photo”

your heart sped up, teeth digging into your lower lip as you slide the message open. your screen went from light to dark in an instant.

thick thighs spread apart, toned barrel chest, tattooed arm, and a slightly scarred chin in the shot. in this light you could see it, so faint but still there, the streaks of cum dripping down the lines of his stomach.

the grip on your phone was so tight you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had shattered in your hands. in the corner of your screen, those three dots were taunting you.

your phone buzzed, you could almost hear it in his voice.

“could really do w’you here to clean me up, sweet dreams sweet’art”

[ellecdc]

oh my god. I love your slytherin reader x marauders!!!! your writing is amazing!!!! could you do like a part three I guess? but like of later in their relationship and the reader has this little first year friend (who she is forced to tutor but she actually likes him but won't admit it) and he reminds her of the boys and the boy just like brings her flowers and chocolates and stuff and the boys see it and James gets all jealous and Sirius is just like "nah just watch mate" and expect the reader to get all annoyed but she doesn't she just doesn't say anything (because she secretly finds the boy sweet and doesn't wanna be mean to the tiny marauder like man) so then they are all in disbelief and pouty

sorry that was very long

hehe...hehehe.....this request is from March 14th 🫢 thank youuuuu for the prompt and sorry for the huge wait..... [also, let this perhaps let people know that I do have old requests saved!]

poly!marauders x fiesty!reader who has an admirer [1.2k words]

p1 // p2 // p3

CW: fem!reader, reader is feisty, Sirius is upset she's not feistier

“I’m not sure if you boys were aware,” Marlene drawled as she plopped herself onto an empty wingback chair in the Gryffindor common room, “but there’s some ickle little first year making moves on your girl.”

Her comment was met by a snort from James, a bark of laughter from Sirius, and an eye roll from Remus. 

“Thoughts and prayers to the first year, then.” James commented, never looking up from the rubik’s cube he was fiddling with as his back rested against Sirius’ folded legs. 

“I don’t know.” Marlene sing-songed. “He seems pretty sweet on her.” 

“Please.” Sirius scoffed. “Our darling girl is the least approachable person in Hogwarts, I hardly believe there’s a wix bold enough to solicit her, let alone a puny little first year.”

“He didn’t have to solicit her, she’s tutoring him.” 

“Honestly, Marls, I’ve never been less concerned about anything in my entire life.” James admitted.

“Could be interesting to watch, yeah?” Sirius offered with a mischievous wink, nudging James with his knee. 

Remus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, though he did close his book with a mischievous smirk. “Someone should be there to save him from our little viper.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” Marlene laughed as she waved them off, not bothering to hide her devious grin. 

It didn’t take long for the boys to find you, seeing as you were haunting what you had early on in your schooling dubbed the ‘most superior table’ in the library. You’d told them what made it so, but James had been paying more attention to the way your lips were moving and less on the actual words that were leaving them. 

“Oh Merlin, the poor sod has no clue.” Sirius all but giggled as they crouched behind one of the aisles of books surrounding your table. 

“Not terrible.” They heard you say as you looked over his work, and based on the boy's beaming smile one would assume you’d given him high praise.  “But you’re getting ahead of yourself and not showing your work.”

“Does showing my work matter if the answers are right?” The kid asked, and James couldn’t blame the kid - he’d had many-a-conversations along the same lines over the years. 

You simply lifted his parchment and walloped him over the head for it. “Yes, showing your work matters; you will lose marks if you don’t.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down.” The kid said solemnly, and James’ heart momentarily melted before he realised that was his darling angel that he was putting the moves on. 

He waited for you to groan and call him a rotten toerag, but you simply shook your head and instructed him to do the next question, making sure to show his work this time. 

“Get a load of this kid; she’s gotta be just about ready to hex him.” Sirius murmured. 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t, honestly.” James replied, causing Remus to snicker.

“The two of you have been hexed for less.”

The three were interrupted when the kid let out a theatrical gasp and dropped his quill. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He screeched before ripping open his book bag.

After far too long spent searching the inside of his bookbag, the kid withdrew a slightly crumpled rose, letting out a disappointed groan when he saw the state of it. “My astronomy textbook must’ve crushed it.”

“Why do you have a rose in your bag?” You deadpanned, and the kid was right back to beaming again.

“I brought it for you, of course. I picked the prettiest one for the prettiest girl.”

This was it, this was the moment they were here for; Sirius watched eagerly as Remus grimaced, each equally anxious for your no doubt cantankerous response. 

But it never came.

You simply let out a sound bordering a breath, a sigh, and a laugh as you gingerly took the wilted rose between two fingers. 

“Very thoughtful. Please get back to your homework.” Was all you offered him, but the kid seemed no less pleased as he picked up his quill and dutifully returned to his work. 

“What in the buggering fuck?” Sirius hissed, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Remus, but it was too late.

“Can I help you boys?” You drawled, though you never actually looked behind you where your three boyfriends were still hiding. 

“Yes, you can help me.” Sirius barked, storming out from behind the stacks followed closely by James and less closely by Remus who had the grace to look a little shamefaced for his spying. “You can help me understand what the hells all this is!”

“This is called tutoring and studying, Sirius, if you spent any time in a library, it might be more familiar to you.” You offered simply, turning a glare in Remus’ direction when he snorted. 

“Okay, swot, what I mean is why are you hear letting this little dugbog-”

“Sirius!” You chided quickly.

“Oh my gods! And you’re defending him!” Sirius continued shrilly, earning him various shushings from surrounding students. 

James couldn’t help but notice you roll your eyes in exasperation, but he also noticed the faintest hints of a smile dancing on your lips. 

“You’ve done well, Cameron; keep practising, and for the love of Merlin make sure you show your work next time or so help me gods…”

“Yes ma’am!” Cameron replied as he packed up his bag. “See you next week?”

“Just as we always have.” You drawled in a bored tone, though you offered him a smirk as he hustled out of the library. 

“I can’t believe you!” Sirius huffed as he took Cameron’s now vacated seat. 

“Angel…what is the meaning of all this?” James asked earnestly, causing Remus to snort as he had the decency to press a kiss to your hair in greeting. 

“If we’d have known you were meeting with new suitors, dove, we would have insisted on accompanying you to your tutoring sessions.”

“Oh please.” You dismissed. “He’s just a kid.”

“Uhm, and?” Sirius pouted.

“Sweetheart, we’ve seen you jinx a kid for sneezing too closely to you.” Remus reminded you, and your face darkened.

“Germ infested little freaks.”

“There’s our girl.” Sirius exclaimed. “I can’t believe you let him get away with any of that!” 

“He’s harmless.”

“He’s a flirt.” Sirius corrected.

“He’s you.” You shot back, and the three boys all looked at you with various levels of bemusement. 

“I beg your pardon?” James finally asked, and you shook your head as you began packing up your own bag. 

“He’s like a miniature version of the three of you; following me around and being abhorrently affectionate.”

“Well, hey, I think we’re, like, an appropriate amount of affectionate.” James tried. 

“No, it's sort of abhorrent sometimes.” Remus quickly agreed. 

“Babe…” Sirius cooed, causing Remus and James to grimace. “Are you going soft on us!?” 

Your eyes immediately darkened as you glowered at him, and if Sirius’ sudden flinch and the following yelp proved anything, you aimed a tame stinging jinx at him. 

“On the kid? Maybe.” You responded primly. “On the three of you? Jury’s still out.”

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P3]

[Series Link]

(Yandere × F! Reader)

[Warning: explicit language, uncomfortable interaction, pushiness]

[A/N: ok, the pace has been slow, but it's gonna pick up in the next chapter 🙏🙏🙏thank u guys for supporting my story so far. Lmk how we feel about Lukas and Yuki ❤️❤️❤️]

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

Yuki Sakamoto didn't like the new guy. He would never say that, but he would think it. From across the teacher's lounge he would see the newcomer sitting with his head tilted back, his feet gliding on the floor as he played with the office chair. The carefree manner with which this American carried himself was a sore thorn he couldn't avoid seeing, given that Yuki's tall frame forced his head to peak past the cubicle walls, alligning his vision perfectly with the sight.

Yuki supposed this guy should not be his problem. After all, the foreign department had never been not loud and unkempt, save for the few dilligent teachers who kept to themselves, fading in and out silently like shadows. He managed the Science subsection, and from what he heard, this freckled eyesore would fall into Literature. Into your hand.

So, not his problem.

Still, he couldn't help but feel the irksomeness. Yuki blamed the summer heat. The window directly behind him was catching bright sunlight, and the flimsy blinds could not filter out enough heat. The suffocating AC air wasn't of much help, what with roughly 30 other teachers recycling their breaths between 4 walls. The cicada's maddening screams was adding to Yuki's mood - his blaring headphone could not mask them. His fingers danced across his sleek keyboard, desperate to punch in the last exam's score to the excel sheets. He felt his heavy eyelids drooping and his tense shoulders slouching. Yet, across from him, the newbie was scrolling on his phone, gliding on the chair's wheel as if he was a bored guest.

Yuki wondered if you even assigned this jackass anything, or if you had simply taken on the workload yourself. You had always been like that: quiet and accepting. Surrendering. You let your department get away with too much. At that thought, he couldn't help but chew on his lip a little. A poor boss, that was what you were. You didn't know how to distribute workload, leaving your guys dependent and spoiled. Yuki much preferred his team: quick, straight to the point, and no nonsense.

He felt bad for you. It couldn't be helped, though: you had the expertise that compelled his respect, but your reluctant attitude was wearing you down. Your team sure knew how to take advantage of that.

Lost in his thought and the repetitive manual task, Yuki let himself flinch a little at the bell. He glanced at his americano now so dilluted that the coffee had sunken to the bottom, leaving melted icecubes and murky cold water to float atop. The sweat building around the plastic cup left a puddle on his desk. Yuki wiped it off, his face souring. He didn't even finish his coffee before lunchtime.

Maybe he was in a bad mood because he was hungry and insufficiently caffeinated.

The door slid open. Here you were, walking in silently. You never made loud sounds. Even when you spoke, your voice was soft and quiet. Yuki could never really make out what you were saying if he hadn't paid close attention.

"Mr. Sakamoto?"

That would be him.

Your meek voice barely reached him from over there. Yuki saw you setting your books down in your cubicle. His head perched up as he smiled at you. He had a soft spot for you, despite his opinions on your management skills. In truth, he was worried, and when he couldn't voice his concern for you to the degree he felt, his worries fermented into frustration. Seeing that new slack-off playing on his phone right beside your cubicle could not have helped.

"Yes, I'm ready", he smiled and stood up, knocking on his chair gently. It slid backward a touch too far, and he awkwardly fumbled as he set it back into its place.

By chance, he had become your lunch buddies for the last 2 years. The first year, he didn't care to get to know you all that much. By the second year, Yuki's walls had gone down after your serious attitude proved to be consistent, and it was completely dismantled ever since he discovered your music taste and his was a perfect fit. He liked to talk to you: you were gentle and kind, not overly affectionate or friendly, something he didn't expect from the foreign dept. Plus, you tried to accompany him during lunch as often as possible. "Why", he did ask you one time, and you simply responded with "well, it's no fun eating alone". But you never specified who was "alone", and he didn't feel like pushing it.

As he made his way toward you, Yuki saw the new guy stood up with an expectant look. "Well, where are we going?" - he asked, his head turned toward you. Yuki's nose scrunched at that, but it quickly relaxed so as for you not to notice. Was that something you had planned?

You seemed dumbfounded, too. Your wide eyes darted between both men, lingering on Yuki to scan his reaction.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I don't think I ever introduced Mr.Lukas to you, Mr. Sakamoto", you laughed nervously, your hand gesturing to direct Lukas' attention to him, "Mr. Lukas here is going to be a new member of my team. He will also be working on the summer program with us."

Upon closer look, Yuki found less reasons to like Lukas. This was clearly a fresh grad who only came to Tokyo for the experience. He could see the lack of care in his boyish face - he was not taking much seriously.

Yuki would not say that. But he would think it.

"Pleased to meet you", he said, shaking the outstretched hand that Lukas silently offered. He could feel the weight of the man's stare.

The feeling was mutual, then.

The awkward silence was heavy. Yuki shifted. He was about to just leave you to it on the off-chance that he was interrupting when you suddenly spoke: "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Lukas. I was hoping to discuss some confidential work details with Mr. Sakamoto. Can we have lunch together another time?"

"Oh?" Lukas arched his brows at you, incredulity left bare on his face. Yuki felt himself internally scowling when his empty green eyes turn to his direction, as if to ask for confirmation.

How rude. How very, very rude.

"Apologies, Mr. Lukas", he came to your aids, "there were some issues with her contract regarding the summer program. I would love for you to join us for lunch any other day."

"Does tomorrow work?"

Yuki was stunned. He was used to pushiness from new employees who were clueless about Japanese social cues, but never to this extent. From the 2 years he had spent in Australia, Yuki had gathered that this conversation was an evident rejection. He wondered if this kid was dumb or purposefully grating.

Before he could open his mouth, you interrupted between nervous laughter: "Of course, Mr. Lukas. See you tomorrow!"

"Okay. Bye you guys. Good to meet you Sakayono!"

Yuki was wide-eyed. He saw Lukas' smug eyes challenging him.

"Very well then", he said, bewildered. You followed him, your eyes somewhere as big as his own.

Only until the teacher's cafeteria did Yuki peeped about Lukas.

"How's the new kid?"

Your expression dropped as you settled in to your seat, your neat lunchboxes unwrapped from the handkerchief.

"Well, he's not a kid. He's only 4 years younger than you."

Yuki's mood was getting to him, and he let it slip- "as far as attitudes go, that's a kid to me."

You didn't react. Perhaps you shared his opinion. Lukas opened his own packed meal, lightheaded now. His eyes were still readjusting to natural light after staring at a screen for too long.

"I agree, he's quite young. But I'm hoping he would be a good addition to the team. He did sign a 2-year contract."

Yuki found your feigned optimism both sad and frustrating. Sad because you were trying so hard to be professional when that eyesore wasn't, and frustrating because he was personally disrespected just moments ago.

"Are you for real?"

You painfully laughed.

"I know... I know... but what else can I do beside my best, right? Plus, he is actually smart. All the task I handed him was done like", you snapped your fingers, "that."

"Well, that's ... good. I guess that's why he was sitting like that all morning."

"Yeah, but hey, he got his job done. He is pretty new. I'm sure he will learn about the culture soon enough."

Your eyes scanned his face. It seemed he was too tired to hide his feelings.

"Sakamoto, please don't worry. I will be fine. There are better things to look forward to, right? Like your show tonight!"

Yuki bashfully looked down at his half-eaten meal, his ears going red. He had been performing underground since ever, but hearing it from other people's mouth never failed to render him an embarrassed mess. Likely it was the switch-up: he still found it hard to balance between his daytime self as a serious teacher and the "him" who played electrice guitar to drunken crowds under blinding stage lights. You knew his secret - you, someone from work, someone that happened to stumble upon the flyer his band had posted online last December wherein his face was unfortunately unmasked. Before they took it down, you had managed to take a screenshot and rushed to him. "You?" -your dreadful message read above the attached picture. Yuki still shuddered remembering that moment: his blood was cold as ice.

Sometimes, that's what happens when your music tastes match perfectly.

"It's... nothing special."

"Well, I'll be there this time, for sure."

Before Yuki could thank you for the support, he was once again startled.

"Be where?"

Too engrossed in the conversation, he was caught by complete surprise when Lukas towered over the table. In sync, you and Yuki turned, neck craning to meet eyes with the young trainee.

Lukas stared you down, disregarding completely the other end of the conversation. Once again invisible, Yuki uncomfortably readjusted his glasses.

"Oh, um...We were just talking about-

Lukas leaned closer, his frame closing in on you. Your eyes met Yuki's in a moment of panic before going back to the man who looked as if he was in an interrogation. Yuki now could notice the quality of the obnoxious new guy's clothes - nicely ironed blue button-up with seamless stitching, and a long pair of slacks with a glistening leather belt. Must be alligator skin, Yuki thought to himself, barely hiding disdain toward the wastefulness.

"I'm sorry", Lukas spoke, his voice slow and deeper than usual, "I couldn't quite hear you. You have a very soft voice."

"Oh, sorry. I was just talking about-

"It's an underground punk rock show", Yuki interrupted smilingly, "we were just talking about how nice it would be if we could attend one some day."

Lukas turned to him only partly, his body still pointed at you.

"Oh? Is one happening tonight? I'd love to catch one, too."

"I didn't know you were into rock music."

"Well, I'd love to try out new things. I'm in Japan, for starter."

"Unfortunately we both have plans tonight, so even if there were any, we wouldn't be able to make it."

"Both of you? A plan together?" - Lukas now turned to you again.

"Not together...", you patiently responded, your eyes downcasted, "I'm having dinner with a friend, and Mr. Sakamoto here has something else going on."

Now blatantly ignoring Yuki, Lukas chuckled.

"I didn't know you were into punk rock. You didn't tell me that over drinks last Friday."

Yuki knew too well it wasn't out of the ordinary for a senior colleague to fratenize with a junior early into a job, but the attitude on Lukas and the didrespectful way he framed it left a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

He now found the persistent smile on Lukas' face very, very, very shitty.

"It wasn't something worth mentioning", you shook your head.

"Well, then I definitely will catch a show soon!"

Yuki felt like a crazy person watching this chucklefuck flirt. He was close to be embarrassed on his behalf - just juvenile and completely out of bound.

"Mr. Lukas", he cut in, "if you don't mind, we would love to catch up with you any other time. As we said, we were hoping to discuss some confidential materials."

"I thought you guys were talking punk rock?"

"It was just a passing thought."

Lukas looked to you who nodded in agreement.

"Oh, my bad, my bad. I'm still new to all the- you know! Well don't mind me, then."

Yuki waited for the guy to disappear completely behind the cafeteria door for his expression to sour. He could not hide it any longer.

"Good kid", he snarkily commented. You slumped in your seat, your eyes squeezed shut tight.

"Should we just get him the hell out of this school before he actually causes you trouble?" Yuki pressed.

Your face fell at that. You looked down, your fingers tapping on the table softly. Your chest heaved.

"I'm sorry... I overstepped."

"No", you waved your hand, trying to play it off, as if your voice didn't crack, "it's okay. I'm fine. You didn't-

If it was Lukas' plan for lunch to be unbearably awkward, he got what he wanted.

"Hey, don't you worry. Wanna see something that will make you feel better?"

Make him feel better? You were the one that needed that care. Yuki opened his mouth to protest, but you were quicker to flash your phone screen toward him.

The QR code to his show.

"See? I won't backtrack this time, for sure! I felt bad to get sick right before your last show."

Yuki's chest still felt heavy, but the way you reacted just then told him to drop it.

"Don't beat yourself up about that. You couldn't help getting sick."

You sheepishly grinned.

"I know... but I was sad to miss it. Well, this time there is no way I would!"

Yuki laughed.

"Thank you... we're no good, but I'm glad you'll be there."

"I already listened to your album, you know."

"I know."

When lunch was over, Yuki still felt a nagging anxiousness. He couldn't blame the hunger now. Clearly, something else bothered him. He wanted to say it was the lack of caffeine or carbonhydrate in his meal, but he knew that it was neither. It was the creep that cornered you, and likely will so many more times in the next two years.

His suspicion was in some way validated almost immediately. Right as he returned to the teacher lounge, his eyes met Lukas' monitor which displayed a punk rock clothing website. Lukas himself was nowhere in sight and neither were you - it was most likely that you had taken him to observe some lessons.

Upon this discovery, Yuki couldn't help the part of himself that found Lukas pathetic and desperate. So he chuckled. But another part reminded him that despite the ridiculousness, it was best for him to keep an eye out for this clown from now. Even though this person may be off-putting to the point of comedy, there was something strange about him.

Yuki thought it, but he didn't want to say it yet.

[gguk-n]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (LANDO NORRIS X Reader)

I did a poll yesterday and I had asked which driver I should write an smau with Sabrina Carpenter's Please please please. Lando won, so here is the smau. I hope you guys enjoy it more than I enjoyed making it!! (I used Sabrina Carpenter mostly, except a few places where I got the pictures from pinterest)

Y/N.Y/L/N

Tagged Y/BFF/user and McLaren

Liked by McLaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 4,657,982 others Y/N.Y/L/N So Y/BFF/user loves watching cars go fast, I on the contrary had my heart stop when I found out the speed they drove at. Thank you to McLaren for having us. It was the nicest experience, let's do this again some time. The drivers were so much fun, especially oscarpiastri, same sense of humour as Y/BFF/N.

user 1 I knew loving y/n was a queen move, she's so pretty. user 2 the crossover I didn't know I needed😭😭 user 3 I was at the race and when I said I was a fan she gave me and the others an autograph and we even took pictures!! the sweetest!!❤️❤️ user 4 I was also at the race and I saw her and Lando literally throwing themselves at each other and laughing at god knows what. user 5 user4 me too, I saw them whispering to each other and I think I saw them exchange numbers👀 user 6 both of them follow each other now, idk what that means?? are we getting a new dad?!🤔

Y/N was greeted by McLaren staff at the entrance and given paddock passes to enter. Y/BFF/N was looking around with big round eyes and almost screamed when she saw Lando and Oscar. They shook hands and went along with the engineers on a tour of the paddock. Y/N didn't understand most of it but she was happy for Y/BFF/N. Lando seemed to have noticed that Y/N was zoned out, so he tapped her shoulder, "You don't have to listen if you don't want to." Y/N apologised and tried to pay attention, alas Lando had other plans and decided to end her misery. He took her along to the drivers room, let her sit down and even got her an iced americano, her favourite!! Y/N thanked him with the conversation flowing like butter with the sprinkling of some flirting here and there. As Lando finished P3, he made sure to get Y/N number before she left for the night; a triumphant look on Lando's face.

f1updates

Liked by 34,765 others f1updates Y/N Y/L/N was in attendance at today’s race at McLaren. P (Max's girlfriend's daughter) was seen taking picture with her. She wasn't the only one happy it seems because a certain driver couldn't get done with press and debrief without blushing every time he looked at her. He even ran back after the race to her in what every is describing as a race to get her number before she leaves. We hope to see more of Y/N now that she might become a wag.

user 7 can celebrities who don't care about the sport not come. 😒😒 user 8 this page is supposed to update about the race not the racers lives🙄🙄 user 9 I think they look cute together, I haven't seen Lando blush like this ever🥰🥰

landonorris followed Y/N.Y/L/N

Y/N.Y/L/N followed landonorris

Y/N.Y/L/N

Liked by landonorris and 3,657,987 other Y/N.Y/L/N So happy to bring you the collection with Skims I've been working on since last year. You know how much of a big advocate I am of body positivity and control. I hope this collection brings joy to all the people who wear it, I hope you feel just as sexy as I did while doing the photoshoot

user 7 not Lando lurking in the likes user 8 user 7 he's not lurking, he follows her lol. user 9 she betrayed taylorswift for money🤦‍♀️. user 10 mother is mothering user 11 Y/N.Y/L/N can you adopt me?? I wanna be hot like you when I grow up Y/N.Y/L/N user 11 sure but you're already hot, I can see from the pfp💋💋. user 11 Y/N.Y/L/N didn't just reply to me, i can die happy

landonorris

liked by Y/N.Y/L/N, McLaren, oscarpiastri and 1,456,278 other landonorris might not have finished podium but you guys get cute pictures of me

user 10 marry me Norris!!!❤️❤️💋💋 user 11 he's so cute and drivers fast cars, what a package.🥹🥹. user 12 its ok mate, better luck next time👍 user 1 not only did Lando like y/n post, y/n liked his back too😭😭

y/nupdates

Liked by 15,798 others. y/nupdates Y/N was seen a few days back with a mystery man on the streets of London. Both of them looked very comfortable holding hands or kissing each other any chance they got. Is there romance in the air or is this another one of y/n flings? only time will tell.

user 2 guys, its Lando Norris, Mclaren's driver😳 user 3 I can confrim its Lando, I saw them near big ben user 4 she hasn't released any new music in ages, focus on your work😫😫 user 5 user 4 let her have fun, you mood killer🤬

f1wagsupdates

liked by 3,490 others f1wagsupdates Lando Norris was seen getting up close and comfortable with a new girl on the beaches of Hawaii. Is a new grid couple on the rise??

user 6 you did not just call y/n a new girl?? 🤦‍♀️😤 user 7 i think they are so cute!! I want what they have😩😭 user 8 Lando needs to focus on the race now that Mclaren is doing so good😤😤

popnews

liked by Y/BFF/user and others popnews Y/N Y/L/N, singer and Lando Norris, McLaren's F1 driver were seen walking around the streets of Paris. This seems to be the third city the pair has been spotted being in love. Speculations say that they started dating after Y/N went to the race in March. Only time will tell what is going on between the two since they've kept their personal lives private since neither have been seen attending a race or a concert. We've tried contacting both their PR team but have gotten no response.

user 9 y/n best friend liked this, must be true🤯!! user 10 both of them are so cute together!! can't wait for all the love songs y/n will write😭😭 user 11 i hate it when bitches get with hot guys😡 user 12 you can tell they both are in love. can't believe popnews reported, must be real😔

babygirlcore

Liked by lando.jpg, Y/BFF/user and others. babygirlcore that's why they say you should date an athlete, they got good stamina lando.jpg damn, i feel objectified babygirlcore I'm only with you for the looks, sorry you had to find out like this Y/BFF/N can't believe my bestie is dating my fav driver and I find out from the tabloid babygirlcore I'm sorry Y/BFF/N I would've told you but Lando wouldn't let me. lando.jpg don't drag me in this I'm innocent

Y/N.Y/L/N

Liked by landonorris,maxverstappen1 and 1,452,647 others. Y/N.Y/L/N It was so much fun performing at coachella. Thank you for having me. I've been touring for the past year, but this never gets old. I hope I get to see you guys at my concerts, tickets available in the bio.

user 1 seeing her live was a dream come true😭 user 2 the only reason I went to coachella❤️❤️ user 3 is it just me or was she winking and giggling at someone in the crowd??🤔🤔 user 4 user3 I saw it too, it's prolly Lando🥲🥲 user 5 user4 it was definitely Lando someone posted pictures of them after the coachella user 6 can't believe this witch took my Lando😤😤

landonorris

Liked by Y/N.Y/L/N, McLaren, f1 and 5,278,934 others. landonorris that first win feeling!! So thankful to McLaren for always believing in me!!

user 7 the most deserved win😭😭😭!! user 8 not Lando running to y/n as soon as he won😍😭😭!! user 9 so rude, y/n won't even comment congratulating her boyfriend😷😷 carlossainz55 congratulations cabron oscarpiastri congratulations mate

babygirlcore

liked by lando.jpg and others babygirlcore the winner of Miami gp and my heart!! give it up for Lando Norris!! so proud of you baby, I knew you could do it!! can't wait to share more wins and watch you become the WDC!!

lando.jpg you're making me blush, love you baby!! Y/BFF/user can't believe I missed this historic moment Congratulations Lando!! Gonna have to take the year off so I can process these emotions😭😱🤯 lando.jpg thank you Y/BFF/N

Y/N.Y/L/N

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 3,765,983 others. Y/N.Y/L/N I've been working at the studio for a while now, can't wait for you guys to hear the new stuff I've coming for you. It's been so long since a new album. So, I'm happy to announce the release of my new album in a couple months. Can't wait to share it with the best people in my life!!

link in the bio

user 7 let her cook😭🥹 user 8 can't believe Lando is her muse, the song is so Lando coded🥹🥹 user 9 oh to be y/n and dating Lando, she hit the jack pot😔😔 user 10 I'm so happy she's finally getting the love she deserves❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭. user 11 can they just come out and say that they are dating😖😖. user 12 i'm working late cuz I'm a singer, the line of the century, play this at my funeral💀 Y/BFF/user is this song about me babygirl Y/N.Y/L/N Y/BFF/ user always, you're my soulmate❤️❤️🥰🥰😘😘

Lando couldn't help but gloat to his friends and fellow drivers. How many people can say that their girlfriend wrote a song about them. The song made him soft and mushy so when Y/N walked through the door he tackled her into a hug. "you wrote a song about me" Lando whispered in her ear. "I did" y/n replied, "all my songs are about you darling" Lando's neck felt hot and his cheeks started to hurt from smiling to hard. Y/N looked at his face and smirked, "aww!! is little norris blushing??" Lando quickly moved away and turn his head towards the window. Y/N couldn't help but tease him and call him a sap in love. Honestly the biggest sap was Y/N since she was the one writing songs about her boyfriend.

Y/N.Y/L/N

Tagged landonorris

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 2,769,654 others Y/N.Y/L/N Heart break is one thing, my ego's another.

link in the bio

user 1 mom said dad's not allowed to look anywhere else.😈😈🙈🙈. user 2 what a power move y/n casting her boyfriend in the song about not fucking up the relationship😂😂. user 3 if that stupid vroom vroom guy fucks up, it's on sight😤😤 user 4 i don't get the hype, she aint even that pretty😒. user 6 i hope they break up, Lando is meant to end up with me 🤦‍♀️ landonorris Thanks for having me on the music video, if you need help in the future lemme know😏😉 Liked by the author user 5 Lando trying to be low key in the comments when we know he's being loved by the best girl Y/BFF/user I'm sending this to my boyfriend Y/N.Y/L/N Y/BFF/user I thought I was your boyfriend, am I the other one???? Y/BFF/user Y/N.Y/L/N sorry babygirl, it do be like that sometimes

landonorris

Tagged Y/N.Y/L/N

Liked by Y/N.Y/L/N, maxverstappen1 and 1,256,783 others. landonorris I'm not as good with words as she is. I never knew what love felt like before she walked into my life. So grateful to be the boyfriend of the most beautiful, kind, caring, loving and gorgeous girl. You're my forever person. I love you Y/N Y/L/N❤️❤️

user 1 if someone saw this. they'd think this was a y/n fan acc. user 2 y/n is barbie and Lando is just ken and he's happy if barbie is😫😫. user 3 eww, she ugly, Lando could do so much better. carlossainz55 congratulations cabron!! happy for you charles_leclerc Alex want's to know if we can get tickets to her concert?? Y/N.Y/L/N charles_leclerc yessss!! tell Alex she can come to all my concerts oscarpiastri you would've thought he would shut up after getting with her but he has become insufferable. Y/N.Y/L/N take him away. He cries whenever you're not around. Liked by Y/N.Y/L/N Y/N.Y/L/N I love you too baby boy. You're my forever person too!! landonorris I'm so lucky to have you, love you mommy😘😘.

Y/N.Y/L/N

Tagged landonorris

Liked by landonorris, Y/BFF/user and 1,426,783 others Y/N.Y/L/N People keep asking why are all my songs about love, I look at them and say I’ve finally found my muse. He makes me so happy, I’ve never felt this way with anyone. So grateful for meeting him cuz I don’t think I knew what being loved was like. Thank you Lando Norris for being the light in my dark times. I just wish my heart didn’t give up every time you looked at me or got into that damn F1 car. But I think I’ll live. Love you❤️💋

landonorris love you too. Liked by author user 4 what dry ass reply was that Lando, look at y/n comment's on his post Y/BFF/user landonorris does this mean free passes to the races forever?? landonorris Y/BFF/user obviously!! user 5 Lando is so blind, she's only using you user 6 they are so cute, they'd have the cutest babies🥺🥺 user 7 he's too good for her, i wish he was still with Luisinha user 8 y/n prolly watching every race to make sure her man is alive 🤣🤣

After hitting the post button on their respective accounts, Y/N found herself in Lando's arms with her head against his chest and his on top of hers. She wrapped her arms around his torso and took a deep breathe; "I love you so much, you know that, right?" Lando chuckled, “You don't let me forget it, with being your muse and all” She let out a sign of content and mumbled, "Just like the driver's championship you are P3 in my heart" Lando's face dropped, unwrapping his arms and pulling her to eye level, "what do you mean?" Y/N just laughed and said, "my parents and Y/BFF/N are P1 and P2 but am sure you'll become P2 if I write any more songs about you." Lando leaned in and kissed her, she pulled him closer as she deepend the kiss. Both of them happy where they were in each other's arms.

I hope you guys liked it!!

[imaginaryf1shots]

Here For You | Lewis Hamilton

Words count: 1K

Lewis Hamilton X reader (established relationship)

Summery: When Lewis gets a podium and his team is nowhere to be found, but you stand there in a sea of red

Warnings: none

A/N: unedited

it really broke my heart seeing Lewis so alone after the race, the way he sat down waiting for his turn, while Carlando had their teams there. He looked so tired and defeted, thanks to the Ferrari and Mclaren who congratulated him.

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

Singapore 2023, Sunday.

What an intense race, one of the best of the season so far. It was so close from start to finish, those last ten laps had you on your toes in anticipation. Leg bouncing up and down as you stared at the screen, Carlos, Lando, George and Lewis were stuck in a DRS train all for P1, George couldn’t overtake Lando no matter what he did. It’s under a lap left when the younger Mercedes driver drives straight into the barrier, your eyes open in shock, everyone is surprised, disappointment on everyone's faces in the Mercedes garage. Frustrated mechanics and just about everyone. 

Your eyes don’t leave the screen, eyes on your boyfriend, but as the three round the last turn, he couldn’t overtake Lando, but he’s P3. you’re happy for him, so happy. You feel bad for George, he’s been doing amazing through the race, he was doing so good all weekend, and to end it like this breaks your heart. However Lewis is your number one concern, and he made it to podium after so long, and you knew given one more lap he could’ve overtaken Lando for P2. 

Despite having one podium win, the mood in the garage was sombre. Everyone is so upset about George, you bit your lip as you waited for them to go to the barrier under the podium to meet their winning driver but no one made an effort to go and see him, despite them all going to congratulate George the day before when he qualified second. 

You’ve been going to races for years, having been with Lewis a long time and every week you had free of work you were in the country he’s in supporting him every chance, sometimes you’d be there for a day or two, never missing an opportunity to be by his side, and you aren’t about to start now. So after two minutes you decided to just leave the garage, ignoring everyone, you couldn’t even see Toto anywhere. 

Already Ferrari and Mcalren were at the barriers so you’d have to fight your way to the front. The heat had you a little sweaty as you squeezed yourself between the orange and red dressed people around you, trying to be heard as you moved but your voice fell onto deaf ears under the loud sounds and talking. Lucky for you Fred Vasseur Ferrari’s principal saw you struggling, the older man had talked to you multiple times, he and Lewis are on good terms and talk from time to time. He gestures for his team to let you through, and thankfully you make it to the front.

“God! Thank you so much.” You breathe out, huffing, you’re thankful you decided to have your hair in an updo today, feeling the heat from the crowd around you add to the heat of Singapore. 

“It’s okay, it looked like you were about to die in there.” He joked, as you both turned to the front, Lewis was waiting to get weighted, your eyes stayed on him once they found him with a smile on your face as you answered Fred.

“Felt like it.” He laughs and pats your back, you look around the barrier for a moment, once Lewis is on the scale(?). No sign of a single Mercedes team member. 

“What are you looking for?” Fred asks, also looking around.

“Mercedes.” was all you said, the man realises the absence of the team which is very odd. Lewis has been the forefront of the team for years, whether it’s a win or not, they should be cheering for him. 

Lewis takes off his helmet and balaclava, he doesn't see you though. “Lewis!”

You call but your voice get drowned in the other sounds around you, your saving grace comes in Lando, he was walking to the wait for his interview when he saw and heard you, patting Lewis on his arm to get his attention, he points at you. The moment he sees you, you smile so wide at him.

Lewis also smiles, seeing you, when he got out of the car and couldn’t spot you or any of his team he felt crushed, he’s tired the race has been hard and having kept it together the whole race, doing better than the last few weeks, it definitely dampened his mood not seeing his team here for him. Seeing you now however brought him happiness that he’s grateful for. 

Walking you to you, the driver wraps his arms around you, sweat and all, you holding as close as you could through the barrier, you close your eyes getting a tad bit emotional.

“I’m so proud of you my love, you did so great.” Kissing his cheek. Around you Ferrari cheered for you, making you laugh and pull back a little, but Lewis wasn’t ready to let you go yet, he held your arms in his.

“I couldn’t see you when I came in.” He tells you, you give him a sad smile.

“Fred rescued me, was fighting my way through to get to the front.” You say with a small giggle, he once again pulls you in for a second hug. “I love you so much Lewis.”

“I love you too… Thank you for always being here for me.” Lewis says low enough so only you could hear him.

“Always, I’ll always be here for you, you can count on that.” You run your hand up and down his back, hearing Lando do his interview. “It’s your turn soon, I’ll be waiting for you after the podiums.”

Lewis pulls back and quickly picks your lips, it’s rare that he shows PDA but in that moment he couldn’t help it. Lewis is a private man, and he likes to keep anything beyond the surface about the two of you away from the public eyes, so you know that your feed will be filled with edits and screenshots from your moment.

Watching Lewis on the podium with a proud smile you clap and cheer for him, as if it’s your first time seeing him on a podium, celebrating him as if he won a WDC. you couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel so you’d be alone with him and enjoy the night alone, just the two of you.

[megaderping]

I think one of my problems with the "Akechi dying is better for the themes of P5R and Joker's character growth and mourning" is like... Okay, but what about Akechi? That framing makes Akechi more of an object to Joker's character, IMO, whereas I think that him surviving in the max confidants ending has so much fascinating potential for Akechi having to live with his mistakes and move forward. He went in expecting to die, to have a simple final act of freedom... But I think him being forced to keep living, to face every day one at a time, to find ways to make peace with what he did and live in the world is just infinitely more compelling from a storytelling standpoint. For Akechi, I think it's a better outcome because it's lacking in elegant simplicity. Even if he lives, he was still willing to die for the sake of everyone's freedom. His survival doesn't erase that. It may "lessen" Joker's choice to reject Maruki's reality, but I think it also makes accepting that reality incredibly cruel, when a strong enough bond with him is enough to save his life and make a miracle happen. Mona describes the world itself as cognition. In P5's vanilla ending, he says it was the PT's bonds that allowed him to continue to exist as a cat in the real world. Given the significance of a maxed confidant making him appear in the postcredits, I believe that it is very simple to read his survival being because of that bond. That wish that they both shared, as confirmed by the Royal artbook. If you prefer exploring the grief and mourning, that's completely fair, but I think there are many ways to interpret Royal's themes, and Akechi living in a harsh reality where you can't escape your past but you can heal and do better is still very on point with what P5R is all about. Unlike P3, which centers more heavily on death, P5R simply touches on it as a part of its greater narrative. And even in P3, you can save a certain character from death via player choice and connections. So, yeah. :p

[crescentfool]

i just realized this blog is going to be three years old this year 🤯

[fangirl-dot-com]

🎩Track 7 - Look What You Made Me Do

*this chapter was sweet but fun to write! I hope you all enjoy!!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Max thought that apologizing to Logan would have been easy. He’d just go to their hotel the morning after when everyone had had a chance to cool down. What he wasn’t expecting was to learn that you, Logan, and the whole Lamborghini team had packed up and left in the early hours of dawn. 

Oh well, the Dutchman thought that Jeddah would be a good time to truly apologize. 

But, Jeddah came and went and the drivers were still given the cold shoulder. 

During the weekend, Max could see how, well, cocky the two Americans had gotten. But they had a reason to be. When Logan and you were finally put in the interviews together, you shied away from the others. 

Even the podium of a second 1-2, your first win of the season and the first shared podium with Max, was cold. The two of you paid no attention to the Red Bull driver, only seeking out to spray your race engineer Lyla and then the team below. 

Charles had another try in Australia. Another 1-2 and no amendments. At least Logan was currently the championship leader. If he wouldn’t talk, he could at least enjoy the joys that came with being P1. 

Japan ended with Logan in P2, surrounded by Max in P1and Charles in P3. This time, Max had made an executive decision to corner the blond on the way out. He had put his hand on Logan’s shoulder, only for the latter to reel away like Max’s hand burned him. 

Max looked at him with sympathy. “Logan, come on. Please let us apologize.” 

Charles had stood behind Max in some weird moral support. However, that was the wrong choice as Logan now felt trapped. 

With fire, he was able to spit out, “I don’t like your little games or the tilted stage that is supposedly supposed to be yours. I got on that podium and made it mine.”

The Monegasque huffed. “Logan, you’re being unfair.” 

Logan responded with a sarcastic laugh. “You made me play the role of the fool. Just leave me alone.” 

Logan brushed past the two of them and was able to get out with no one else coming up to try to apologize. 

Max sighed, defeated once again. Charles could only offer a hand of comfort, also feeling the hole that you and Logan were supposed to take up in his life. But Max wasn’t about to give up. If there was one thing his dad taught him, it was to keep pushing until you got what you want. 

China also came and went. No progress was made. And yet another podium shared. Logan was back to being P1, then you in P2, and a surprise P3 of Lewis. How the dumpster fire of a Mercedes was able to stay ahead of Max? No one knew. Turns out, Max’s throttle was stuck and he couldn’t overcome it. 

To your surprise, Lewis didn’t push trying to talk to the two of you. He knew first hand that talking in a crowded space wouldn’t work. 

When it was Miami time, the group was still sulking. Their paddle games weren’t the same without Charles making fun of your black and yellow clothes or Logan learning some new Dutch sentence from Max. 

George was thankful to be on the receiving end of a handful of texts from you and Logan. Just mundane things that he was actually relieved to get. Because you or Logan weren’t talking, no one knew really what the two of you were up to. It seemed as though the two of you only posted after races. 

Lewis sighed as he looked at his teammate. “Any news from you know who?” 

It was as if saying your names would cause another blow up to happen. 

George only responded in small grunt. “Looks like they’re back home. Logan texted me that they’re in the same press conference as us, Max, and Charles. It’s going to be like a bomb waiting to go off.” 

The smaller Briton put his head in his hands. “We really messed up.” 

George snorted. “Yeah. But Logan will forgive us. I can feel it.” 

Well, Lewis was right. The tension in the room was so thick that a mere kitchen knife would not be able to cut it. It looked as though you had taken the inside seat, almost protecting Logan from having to sit anywhere near the others. 

Charles felt some hope when you shot him somewhat of a sad smile. But to him, it was progress. Logan, however, looked miserable. George wanted to cry when he resembled the 2023 Williams version of himself. He wanted to lean over you to talk to him, but the questions began to start. 

A woman raised her hand first. 

“Question for Logan. We’ve seen a dominant Lamborghini in the past opening races and we’ve seen that your driving style has changed a bit. Can you tell us a bit about your mindset and how you decided to go about the new car?” 

Logan licked his lips as he brought the mic to his lips. A small smile made its way to his face. 

“I got smarter and I got harder, in well, the nick of time. In December, Lamborghini reached out with an offer than had to be decided quickly. There really wasn’t time to think about it. So, I just went with it.” 

This time a man raised his hand. 

“A question for Y/n. We saw that you and Logan had completely blacked out your social medias. And during that time, some fans thought you had died. Thankfully you didn’t.” 

A few laughs arose from the crowd, you and Logan included. 

The journalist continued. “Can you maybe give us a comment on how you went from, well, your career dying to becoming what it is today?” 

Your quirked an eyebrow and smirked at the man. “I rose up from the dead. I tend to do it all the time. People put me down until I feel like I can’t get back up, and then somehow, I always get back up and then just do my thing. That’s mostly why my nickname is Phoenix for people close to me.” 

Another man raised his hand. “A question for the table. We haven’t see any paddle matches between the six of you in a while. Do you think that this weekend there might be some friendly competition back in the paddock?” 

Beside you, Logan inhaled sharply. 

George took the initiative for this one. “We’ve been very busy with the first few weeks. We all have gone separate ways between weekends. But maybe Charles and Max just got tired of losing to us.” 

Lewis snorted while Max and Charles gawked at the tall Briton. The snort, in turn, made you and Logan chuckle a bit, which was caught on the mic for everyone to hear. Charles rolled his eyes. 

“I am actually a good paddle player. Just someone seems to not want to go for the ball.” 

He was currently giving Max a bombastic side eye while Max narrowed his eyes back at his rival. On the inside though, they were buzzing at the fact that you and Logan had joined in on the banter (even if it was just a few laughs). 

While they were having a stare down, you chose to raise the mic. 

“Like George said, we’ve all been busy. Logan and I fly back to Milan almost every week when we can to keep the car up to the standards that it needs to be.” 

Logan nodded before continuing. “If we want to stay on top, then we have to put in the work for it.”  

The press for the drivers rounded up quickly after a few more questions. The tension was still there, but a few answers of praise for the two from the four lightened things up. 

You and Logan watched as they left, but the two of you took spots in the back to watch the team principals’ conference. You smiled and pointed out how they put Michael right in the middle of James and Zac. Logan could hardly keep his snort in. 

He leaned over and whispered, “Is it bad I want to see him drag James?” 

You shook your head and whispered back, “I want to see it too and Zac.” 

Michael adjusted his shirt and looked out to the crowd. He smiled a bit when he saw you and Logan laughing in the back, shoulder to shoulder. He knew he had one of the best driver lineups of the grid, and he wasn’t about to let them go. Right now, he had some teams contacting him about the length of your contracts. However, he left them unanswered. 

With a clearing of a throat, the journalists settled down as someone asked the first question. 

“For Mr. Vowles, Williams haven’t been doing too well this season so far. However, Alex has mentioned that most of the upgrades from the car had come from Logan himself. Do you think that if you kept Logan on for another year, things might be different?” 

James ran a hand through his hair. “Well, all we can do is throw ‘ifs’ around and speculate a reality that might have happened. I wouldn’t be able to answer that.” 

“Another question for James. How does it feel seeing Logan on the top step almost every weekend so far knowing that he could have had that with Williams?” 

“I personally don’t think Logan would get on the podiums in our car. He got lucky with Andretti and Lamborghini. Honestly, if any of the drivers had the car that they had, they’d probably get the same results.” 

Michael rolled his eyes a bit, knowing that the gesture would be caught on some camera, but he really didn’t care. 

“A question for Mr. Brown. Y/n L/n brought a 75 percent win rate to Arrows’ wins last year. Why did you and McLaren decide to terminate her contract?” 

Zac grunted as he shifted in his seat. “Well, like with all drivers, we just have to look at who is on the market. And going with Alexander seemed like the right choice.” 

The journalist took a breath before continuing. “Do you feel the same after Alexander and the team have failed to obtain points? And Alexander has DNF-ed in the past three races?” 

The McLaren CEO shook his head. “We took a gamble. But I have no doubts in the team. Like I said, we had to keep our options open. Keeping L/n would have just set us back.” 

The same woman who asked Logan a few questions now gestured to Michael. 

“Mr. Andretti, first congratulations to you and your two drivers for leading the championship. I know you must be very proud.” 

Michael smiled as he spoke into the mic, “Thank you very much. I couldn’t be prouder of Logan and Y/n. They both put in so much work during the winter break. I am just glad that we can give them a car that they deserve. They’re both good drivers, and I don’t believe that it was just luck that got them here.” 

The woman smirked, knowing that she was pushing buttons, but no one seemed to mind. 

“Following up with that, how what was the decision like to bring Logan and Y/n to the team after two failed campaigns in both Formula 1 and IndyCar?” 

You leaned over to Logan. “Ooooo it’s about to get good.” 

Your boss smiled as he thought over his question. “Well, we knew that we needed two drivers who were already comfortable with each other. We’re a team first and if our drivers can’t get along or their driving styles aren’t compatible, then we don’t have a firm base. Mr. Tonino and I had a few drivers that we’d be willing to talk to.” 

“And were Y/n and Logan on that initial list?” 

He nodded. “I had a list of names and Logan’s and Y/n’s were in red and underlined. Mr. Tonino was very adamant about the two of them. Because he is the big boss man.”

That made people laugh, including the two of you in the back. 

Michael continued, “He had full say of who he wanted to drive his cars and that happened to be our duo. Looking at the analytics of their driving, they were almost identical. It would have been a shame to let them slip through our fingers.” 

He looked out beyond the crowd at you and Logan. You two were looking back with wide but thankful smiles. He knew that you had given up on your careers in motorsports. He just hoped that he was giving you everything that you could ever want. 

The press conference wrapped up quickly after that. You and Logan found yourselves going over some last minute details before the day was done. Logan sighed as he put his head on the halo of his car. 

Your eyes help sympathy for your boyfriend. You walked over and placed a hand on his back. 

“Come on Logs, talk to me.” 

He turned his head, cheek still pressed against the carbon fiber. 

“I miss them, but they hurt me so much. And I don’t want to be hurt like that again. I don’t trust no one and no one trusts me.” 

You bent a bit to get closer. 

“Listen to me baby. They treated you terribly, but I’ve also seen how happy they are that you gave them a second chance. I really think that they want to be genuine, it all just went a bit too fast. The world moves on, another day another drama, but not for us. We’re still stuck in the mindset that if we mess up, we’ll get booted immediately.” 

Logan sighed as he stood upright to take you in his arms. He kissed the top of your forehead and rested against your hair. 

“I understand. All I’ve been thinking about it karma. It feels like the world moved on, but not me. Like, maybe I got my karma when Williams dropped me, but I feel like they haven’t gotten theirs yet.” 

You snorted and pulled back to look him in the face. 

“Baby, I think Max’s karma is that you’re going to take the championship away from him this year.” 

He smirked down at you. “Oh yeah sweetheart?” 

You leaned your head up to look him in the eyes. “Most definitely. Now, let’s go. We have a sulking rival pair to talk to.” 

Logan went back to his hiding place in your hair. 

“Do we have to?” he whined, really not wanting to talk to them now. 

Your hands went up and ruffled his hair, making him huff. 

“Fine. We can do it after you win your home race.” 

Logan smiled. “But it’s your home race too.” 

“May the best driver win?” 

“May the best driver win.” 

“AND IT’S LOGAN SARGEANT ACROSS THE FINISH LINE IN P1 AT HIS HOME RACE HERE IN MIAMI! Y/N L/N BRINGS IT HOME SECOND, WITH LAMBORGHINI’S FIFTH 1-2 FINISH! GEORGE RUSSELL FINISHES IN P3 WITH MAX VERSTAPPEN ON HIS TAIL!” 

Logan breathed a sigh of relief as he climbed out of his cockpit. As he stood tall, he look around at the screaming crowds. They were all for him and you. You tugged on his sleeve to bring him down into a hug. 

On the side, George stood next to Max and Lewis and just watched as you two bounced up and down in each other’s arms, ecstatic about a home race win. When Max and Lewis left, Logan turned around and headed straight to George. 

The tall Briton was not expecting a hug, but his arms immediately wrapped around the shorter blond. He could feel Logan shaking, maybe signaling that he was crying, but George didn’t say anything. He remembers that he was always the crier during his first points and his first win. The two pulled apart. 

“I’m going to talk to the group later tonight if that’s ok?” Logan asked, wanting to heal his aching heart. 

George nodded and patted his arm. “We’ll talk. Go get your interviews done winner.” 

Logan smiled before giving him one last hug. He jogged over to get weighed and then went to talk to Jensen Button. 

Jensen was happy to see a very smiley Logan, something he hadn’t seen since Bahrain. The older man put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. 

“So Logan, congratulations on bringing Lamborghini’s fifth 1-2 finish this season. How are you feeling?” 

Logan laughed before answering in the mic, “I feel so light, it’s unreal. I just finally feel like I can do my job and do it well.” 

“If you could have a phone call with the old Logan, what would you say or vice versa?” 

“Oh, the old Logan couldn’t come to the phone because he’s dead. I’m really a new person and version of my best self this season and I don’t want to dwell on the past anymore.” 

Jensen chuckled. “Good man. Now go get your trophy.” 

Up on the podium, you, Logan, and George were a stark contrast of the past few races. This time, the two of you interacted with George and sprayed him back. 

When you and Logan changed, you were surprised to see Max, Charles, and Lewis waiting in your garage. Logan looked down at the floor with a guilty expression. He had tears in his eyes when he went to apologize. 

“I am so sorry for how I have acted. I-” 

Lewis held out a hand to stop Logan from talking. The Briton sighed before he spoke. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” 

When Logan and you went to retaliate, Max cut you off. 

“If there’s someone who needs to be sorry, it’s us and the entire grid. I know we can’t talk for them, but we can talk for us.” 

Charles took a tiny step forward. 

“Looking back, we should have formally apologized before jumping into some pseudo-friendship that was built on a bad past. We should have treated you better last year and we have no excuses.” 

Lewis took over. “But now we have a chance to do better, to ask for forgiveness. I know the whole saying is ‘forgive and forget’ but there really is no true forgetting. It’s always going to haunt you and us for a while. But we want to start again.” 

Max looked down at the floor. “What we’re saying is that we miss you and we’re hoping that you’ll forgive us.” 

You and Logan shared a quick glance before smiling. 

You turned to Charles. “We’ll take all the ice cream that you can give us and we want to spend time with Max’s cats.” 

The three’s heads shot up and they looked at you with wide eyes. 

Charles gawked. “That’s it?” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “I mean, we can think of other things if you’d like that. I’ve been wanting a few new cars and a yacht.”

Max winced. “No we can do a cat playdate.” 

The Ferrari driver pulled out his phone. “Getting the ice cream sent now.” 

Lewis looked at them with narrowed eyes. “What do you two want from me?” 

You and Logan smirked at the Mercedes driver. 

“We want Roscoe.”  

venus2 has posted

venus2 oh, look what you made me do

liked by maxverstappen1, sargeantgirlie, lamboduo, and 1,204,294 others

f1_grid_gang dare I say my family is back together??

my_goat_logan OH YEAH THAT'S MY CHAMPIONSHIP LEADER

ferrari&lambo we're looking Logan 👀

lewishamilton yes, I've seen that you and your teammate have kidnapped my dog 🤨

venus2 all for a good cause

phoenix95 he's fine with his siblings and yes all vegan treats ☺️

lewishamilton fine.

logan.nation these are the type of posts I missed

phoenix&venus they got the band back together 😭

nomoreloscar now we just need other drivers to apologize as well

phoenix95 has posted

phoenix95 I'll be the actress staring in your bad dreams ✨

liked by charles_leclerc, Dior, paddlesixtet, and 2,305,869 others

beelamborghini my queen bee 🐝👑

y/n.nation ok but the helmet slaps

lambo_duo nothing is better than seeing those two on the podium

usaF1 that and hearing the star spangled banner almost every week

wtf_isa_km AMERICAAAAA RAWWRRRR 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

charles_leclerc was the sparkle necessary petite abeille

phoenix95 better watch it leclerc or Leo is next 🙂

maxverstappen1 Charles, you better run and hide your puppy in those massive pants of yours

phoenix95 🫵🤣

charles_leclerc I thought you liked the cloud pants ☹️

maxverstappen1 wait I do!!

venus2 simp.

rariferrari her lap pace is just 🤌

lambof1 this is just a proper racing team

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[hoe4sports]

“Love me to my bones”

Alexia Putellas x reader

A/N: Part two of the stargazing series. It’s based off of the song Stargazing by Myles Smith. P3 can be found here. Triggers includes swearing.

-

05.37. There was thunder outside causing you to be held awake. The heavy drumming on your windows definitely didn’t help on your anxiety. You were staring at the clock on your nightstand while your roommates soft snores were lingering in the room. 05.38. More thunder. Four rounds of thunder within one minute. 3 seconds away from you. For a hot second; you thought you had lost all common sense as you tossed yourself back in your bed and covered your head with a pillow. You didn’t just hate thunder, you despised it. It made all the anxiety you had piled up from football shoved underneath the carpet come alive. You weren’t particularly traumatised, but you had been tough on yourself as a kid. It was hard being compared to Alexia all the time, and it ended up with you having to work twice as hard as her. She was a natural, a magician with the ball. You however, were a not so much natural. But hey, you know what they all say; hard work over talent.

The scrutinising buzzing of Claudia’s alarm woke you up at 6. You were two ringings away from chucking your phone at Claudia to wake her up. It was weird staying with anyone else during away-games, but Alexia had requested her own room for the first time since you started playing together as kids. The wish had come up after she’d talk to Olga about her spacing out, only for Olga to blame it on Alexia for being so busy with football and her teammates. You were surprised by how much it hurt to be wrecked for your usual partner, but you accepted it. What hurt was that Alexia hadn’t reached out to you. She didn’t answer your texts, your calls and she hadn’t given you an explanation. Your explanation was made of giving her the benefit of the doubt. That’s why you had been paired with Claudia. Claudia wasn’t the worst person to camp up with, but by the judgment of her alarm; she wasn’t the best either. “Ah, rise and shine! Ready for another day of football?” Claudia sang after she’d turned off the alarm. The look on your face made her jump a little. “Oh my, Y/N, what happened to you?!” Claudia exclaimed dramatically while hopping up from her bed to touch your face and study the tiredness up close. “I couldn’t sleep, the thunder was horrendous” you mumbled as Claudia moved your face around while she fiddled with the visible bags under your eyes. “Ai, I think you’ll need something better than coffee and face cream” she said blatantly causing you to whack her playfully in her thigh. Truth was that Alexia also hates thunder, so you knew that she was awake as well. You would normally sit together during thunderstorms in the nurturing company of each other. You had been each other’s safe space for years on end, sharing all your secrets and worst fears. That time seemed to had come to an end now that Alexia had Olga. 20 years chucked out of the window. The only comfort you had was that you knew Alexia first.

Claudia dragged you along downstairs for breakfast with the rest of the girls. You felt like you had been run over twice and it felt like your brain was about to pound out of your skull. A few of the girls were already downstairs; Ingrid, Mapi, Caroline, Marta, Patri and Irene. You flashed a half assed smile before you grabbed a plate and placed fruit on your plate. The lack of appetite wasn’t because of poor selection in the breakfast buffet; you could never eat properly after having nightmares or not having any sleep. The chair next to Ingrid was empty so you flopped down next to the Norwegian before taking a bite of the watermelon you had picked up. Ingrid was someone you could trust, whom you could rely on. She would never tell anyone and she would never judge. It was surprising to you when she told you that she wasn’t the captain of the Norwegian national team.

«Y/N? You look like someone forced you to do algebra all night!" Mapi exclaimed causing Ingrid to shot her a look. "Uhm, yea. There was thunder so i couldnt sleep" you shrugged while munching on the bright red strawberries you had collected from the buffet. The juiciness was refreshing for your dehydrated body. "Ai, How did Alexia sleep through that!” Mapi said as she popped a piece of bread into her mouth. “Where exactly is Alexia? Didn’t she come down with you?” Irene stated. The whole lot of girls looked at you as they quieted down. It felt like someone had put a spotlight on your head and you felt your cheeks burn. Everyone knew you and Alexia were two peas in a pod, so everyone also knew that something was wrong. You decided to tell the truth and play it off cool. “She wanted to have her own room, I’m sharing with Pina” you explained as you looked to the wall next to the girls so you could avoid eye contact. The group went dead quiet. The whole room felt like it was closing in on you. The air felt hot. The ringing in your ears were gradually taking a turn for the worse. You could feel the tears pressing.

“I’m gonna go get ready for practice” you practically commanded as you shoved your chair out and stomped up the stairs to the your room in the 11th floor. You quickly opted for the shower, ripping the clothes off your body as fast as you could. The water was turned to a cold setting and the icy water made you feel more awake than ever. It sharpened your body and your mind to the point where you had forgotten about Alexia. Eventually, you got out and pulled on your shorts, t-shirt and your wind jacket. Claudia was laying on her bed watching TikTok as you came out of the bathroom. “That took forever!” Claudia sighted as she looked up at you. “Yea, I forgot the time” you muttered back as you slipped on your trainers. “Ready for practice?”

-

The practice hadn’t really been on your side. You had taken a tumble mid sprint and busted your head open. The medics had forced you to get a huge bandaid in the middle of your forehead. It looked awful, and gruelling. Later that same practice, you had managed to step on the ball during a drill and once again face planted into the grass. The last little slip up was when you got split into two team and Alexia had knocked your right out on your back causing you to black out for a hot second. This really wasnt your lucky day. You got into the wardrobe after practice and stayed behind to shower alone. The girls could get quite loud so you sometimes liked to stay behind. The hotel was in a walking distance to the arena, so it wouldn’t be an issue. After you came out of the shower, you bumped into Alexia.

“Oh, sorry” you said as you kept your head down low as you passed her. “What’s up with you today?” She asked with an attitude as she turned around to look at you. You stood towards the locker as you shrugged. “Nothing”. Alexia sighted as she crossed her arms. “I can tell that there is something going on. I know you Y/N better than anyone on the team.” Alexia said as you tried to get your clothes on as you felt your blood boil. You ignored her chucking your cleats into your bag with your dirty clothes. “Y/N, I know you can hear me! What’s going on with you today?” Alexia’s voice seemed to be a mix of annoyance and worry. You could hear her footsteps coming closer to you. It flipped for you when she touched your shoulder.

“Y/N. Come on, talk to me. You are my bestfriend. I love you and I won’t judge you.” she tried again. The emotions you were bearing felt like a kettle about to boil over. Like the moment when your acl snaps and the whole world goes quiet. Like before you take a penalty. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Your had gripped your bag so hard that it started to hurt your hands. Your breathing was becoming more and more heavy. You turned around to face Alexia.

“Y/N-“

“Really Alexia? Are you fucking dumb? You leave me hanging landing me with Claudia without giving me a heads up! You are an ASS at practice. You stop texting me, you stop partnering up with me, you stop being my best friend. You don’t give me any reason, any explanation. You throw 20 years in the trash within a heartbeat! And you tell me that you know me? That you love me? You clearly don’t fucking know or love me at all!”

“Y/N.. I-“

“Oh my god, Alexia. You really don’t know when to stop?! I’m such an idiot for loving you! I’m such an idiot for loving you more than I love myself, more than football, more than anything! You threw me away like I was nothing. And for what? For a fucking girl, Alexia! You don’t do that, people don’t do that to someone that has supported them for 20 years!”

Alexia’s eyes had tears in them. Her confusion was fogging her brain. She was longing for your touch, but she couldn’t tell you. She couldn’t tell you how Olga had picked a fight with her about you. How jealous Olga was. How she felt like she had to protect you from her own girlfriend. You couldn’t tell her how you were craving her touch. How you loved her first. How you had fallen in love with her before Olga was there. How you had liked her since you were teens. Maybe that was your way out of this situation, of this mess that had been made by you, Alexia and Olga.

“God Alexia, I love you. I love you so fucking much it hurts. I have loved you for decades. I loved you before Olga did. I was in love with you, Alexia. For years! So please, leave me the fuck alone.”

You bolted towards the door of the wardrobe leaving Alexia stunned. You felt embarrassed, but you were hurt. As you stormed out of the room, you smacked the door shut while you paced out as fast as your legs could. You needed to get away from Alexia. And you didn’t care what you had to sacrifice for that to happen.

Things between Olga and Alexia weren’t how you had assumed they were. It wasn’t really “Olga and Alexia” anymore. But Alexia hadn’t told you yet. How they had broken up the day you left for the away game. She wanted to tell you in person, somewhere private. Where nobody could hear her other than you. Where she could pour out her real feelings to you. She wanted to tell you that nobody was worth risking your friendship. That you were her bestfriend. That no girl was ever gonna get to ruin your friendship. That you were her ride or die. But she couldn’t tell you, because you were long gone. Alexia didn’t know what to do or how to make things right; but she knew that she needed to make amends.

[yanderenightmare]

more gojo with curse!darling please! i lobe this concept<3

Gojo Satoru

P1 & P3

TW: abduction and captivity, mild condescension, mild coercion, NSFW hints, some descriptions of darling, but nothing too specific, a joke dissing people with blue eyes and pale skin

gn reader - fem labels (drama queen) & fem accessories (jewelry: various)

He kept you like one would a stray cat. Leaving you be as you found places of comfort around his apartment, hiding when you wanted to be left alone – which was almost always.

You hadn’t warmed up to him yet. Understandably so.

He’d set out food for you, locking the door with seals when leaving – scoffing out a laugh after coming home only to find the dish still on the table. He keeps forgetting you don’t eat.

You may look it, but you’re not exactly human.

But you are getting thinner, unfortunately. Suppose his apartment isn’t ideal hunting ground for a curse. And as you’ve gotten weaker, you’ve become wilder – primitive in a way – hissing at him when he gets too close – feeling vulnerable. 

You’re very cute.

But, cute or not, he doesn’t want to starve you. He isn’t cruel. So he walks and wonders what it is that you would find appetizing. 

Watching your behavior – how you sneak around his apartment looting – like a crow – collecting shiny objects to deck yourself in. Stealing all his rings, chains, watches, belt buckles, manchets, any gold or silver-rimmed glasses, and anything else you can use as jewelry – old coins, can tabs, all the silverware – along with everything else you deem pretty – fabrics, flowers, decorations, all his silk shirts. 

You rob anything and everything of value, making a nest of it all in the tub. 

His theory is that the bathroom is the shiniest place in the house and, therefore, where you feel you most belong. You sleep there despite him having given you a room – coveting all your findings.

He’s never really thought about how a curse can have such behaviorism. It’s not too odd to keep tamed ones as pets, but still, he’s never thought about why one would aside from utilizing them in combat. But you weren’t made for such intents and purposes. You were… just fascinating to have. Not far off from being an exotic pet.

But even for a curse, you’re unusual.

It’s not fear or death you thrive on. It’s… something a lot more innocent, actually – which is probably why you have no malicious instincts to hurt him – not that you could if you tried. But he can tell… you don’t want to be a curse, do you? In fact, those few times he has nicknamed you curse, you’ve scowled at him a little more than usual. 

No, what you desire is devotion – to be worshipped. 

What you want is to be a god.

Quite like him, actually. You like having your ego stroked. 

It’s your pride that needs feeding, and he can only asses that it feasts on people’s mad desire for you – of which he has plenty to give.

But you reject it.

“I won’t rely on the pity of a filthy jujutsu sorcerer. I’d rather starve.” You tell him with a sneer, curling yourself up with folded arms upon your chest – pouting with eyes closed, drowned in your treasure bath as though everything wasn’t nicking your skin, trying to ignore him.

He slants his head to the side, crouched down beside you with his arms resting on the tub, a smirk on his face – playing cute as he reaches a slim finger out to touch your cheek.

“Won’t you let a filthy jujutsu sorcerer worship you a bit? Trust me, a curse has never made me feel so weak before. Don’t you think I’d make for the best beggar?” 

You grimace, brows deepening into a vexed frown without opening your eyes, but you don’t flinch away. “I won’t be patronized. You keep playing with me like I’m your toy.”

“Maybe a little,” He chuckles softly. You’re such an honest and expressive little curse. “But I do think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen~”

“Naturally.” You reply simply, the furrow in your brow softening, but you don’t offer much more.

“Come on, pretty curse.” He drawls. “Let me help you before you waste away.”

You scoff. “Tch- foolish, selfish human… you really are such an ugly thing to behold.” The furl returns, but still, you keep your eyes closed. “Do you honestly think that your rancid touch is going to save me?” Then you laugh – harshly and mockingly. “Please, don’t flatter yourself. A god requires offerings left at their shrine, not the filthy touch of the peasants that leave them.” Your nose scrunches suggestively. “You should consider it a blessing to even be allowed to look at me.”

Vain and stubborn, he thinks. You are the curse of beauty. But still, he's never experienced rejection before.

Suppose he has to try a little harder…

He soon finds himself courting you. Trying to make you comfortable.

He starts giving you gifts – first, silver silk bedsheets that lure you into sleeping in your bed instead of the bathtub, along with other changes that make your room more appealing – ornate wallpaper, canopy drapes surrounding the bed, and a smaller chandelier for the ceiling. Happy to see you abandon your former treasure in the tub in favor of your new dwelling.

Then he gifts you other pretty articles – clothes and such that actually fit you – patterned silks and lace. He attempts to give you clothes you can use to cover up more of yourself, but you seem partial to wearing less – most comfortable in just an elegant kimono you can easily discard on the floor.

You’re confusing like that – walking around his apartment half-naked but hissing and scowling at him when he stares.

It’s more the jewelry you enjoy wearing – crowns, earrings, necklaces, body chains, rings for your fingers and toes, bracelets for your wrists and ankles – everything in abundance. Jingling when you step about.

You seem healthier after receiving his presents. Also, a bit less skeptical – now engaging in conversation with him – although often about what his next gifts will be and if he can buy you diamonds and rubies for you to bead your hair.

“Sorry, but the banks closed. I’m not giving you a single dime, your highness.” He laughs one day, eyes bright and smiling, watching the puzzlement befall your face before the spread of horror that soon followed after hearing his next words. “In fact, I’m gonna start taking things away.”

“You wouldn’t-” Your voice had dropped into something so weak it was adorable, no longer having that strident overconfidence you’d built up.

It makes him feel almost bad watching your face drain and become so distressed like a spoiled little brat who’d just been told no for the first time.

“Oh- I would.” He grinned like it was all only a cruel joke to him – something just for shits and giggles. “Satoru Gojo giveth and Satoru Gojo taketh away.”

“But-” Your lip wobbles, and he can spot the tears brimming in your eyes already.

He doesn’t let it bother him. Or at least he doesn’t let it show.

“I think I’ll start with all your jewelry- how about that necklace you’re wearing right now?” He threatens, pale hand reaching towards your neck to pull your pearls off – but you shrink into a ball on the floor before he has the chance to.

“No, no, no, don’t-” You start sobbing, and he thinks it’s the first time he’s seen a curse be so sad and desperate.

Not to mistake those countless curses he’d made cry and plead for their life, but that wasn’t what you were doing. You were grieving. 

You’re really such a simple thing, aren’t you?

His smile softens into something not so cruel. Crouching down to your level, placing his hand atop your head where you’re bowed and bawling, petting you soothingly. “Okay then, drama queen. Stop your crying. I’ll let you keep it.”

You raise your head, hopeful. Looking at him with terribly puffy eyes - cheeks streaked with teardrops hanging off your lashes. Looking so pained and vulnerable, it made his heart ache at the sight. 

You don’t say anything but he can tell there’s a question on your lips you’re unable to voice.

“Under one condition.” He answers. 

You flinch when his hand slides from your hair to cup your cheek, holding your chin as he rolls on his feet and places a kiss on your salty lips.

You gasp and allow it for a second but then abruptly push him off – falling back on your butt. “No- you’ll make me filthy.” You rush out. “Beauty is meant to be admired, not reaped. It’s not right. You can’t-”

He watches you blush and stutter and thinks it’s silly how he hasn’t thought about it before. But now it’s become clear. Curses spawn from human fears, after all. It’s not strange that they’re so similar. But still… he’d never think a curse would be afraid of losing their virginity.

“It’s okay,” He coos, setting his knees down softly – crawling forward to where you sit, hiding your face behind small hands decked in too many rings. “I’m not gonna stain you…” He promises, his breath warm on your skin. “I’m gonna make you feel like the most desired diety in the world.”

Your breath shivers as he takes your hands and uncovers your face – eyes wide looking at him.

“And after I’m done admiring you, I’ll get you more diamonds and rubies than you can count.”

You swallow – eyes skittering from one of his blue ones to the other.

“Really?” It’s below a whisper.

“You bet.” He answers with a smile, flashing you a smirk. “I’ll get you enough to swim in.”

Your nose does a little twitch like it usually does, but this time, it’s not to express disgust. “Do you promise?” You bite your lip – staring at him.

“Let’s make it a binding vow.”

And that’s the arrangement.

You let him admire you in ways you’ve never let anyone else before, but only if he fulfills all your greedy heart’s desires.

He doesn’t mind. It’s nice to have something to spend money on that’s worth it.

You’ll lie next to him and he’ll get to study you up close – finding things that betray you – model details that aren’t in line with human imperfections. Missing bone structure, flawless symmetry, hairless skin devoid of any and all accent of mark or spot – just smooth milky texture without a single fault.

He says it’s sad – that the standard for beauty isn’t even achievable, to which you reply that it’s only fair everyone should be subject to the same disappointment, never to achieve perfection like you.

He asks if you think he’s really that ugly. And you say yes.

“Liar.” He accuses. Head propped on his hand, his hair a tousled mess lying in the bed beside you.

You’re looking up at the ceiling but close your eyes insouciantly at his comment. You tip your chin a bit as you speak – lips pouty and proud. “Lies are an ugly trade- in which I don’t partake.”

“Oh, really?” He rolls on top of you and you give a whine. Looking up into his sparkling blues and how his pearly hair falls loose and wispy. “Then look me in my eyes and tell me I’m ugly.” He dares.

“Puh-” You scoff, folding your arms above your puffed chest, looking off to the side, still with eyes closed as though to dismiss him like you so often do. “Men with beady bright blue eyes and pink skin look like pigs.”

You sneak a peek with one eye when he doesn’t answer. He’s still looking down at you – still daring you. 

And you continue. Raising a finger to nudge his nose up. “Say oink-oink, piggy.”

He brushes your finger away as he leans in closer. Now with his nose rubbing yours.

“Tell me I’m ugly.” He repeats – his voice dipping low into that serious tone that makes your breath tight and your stomach flurry.

“You’re-” You try but it ends up swallowed, stifled beneath those big worldly blues. “You’re…” You try again but it’s worse than the first time, making you bite your lip. He’s not budging.

You look away. Feeling defeated and mopey because of it.

“You’re not as pretty as me.” You finally sulk.

So cutely grumpy with your pursed lips and vexed brow, he just has to laugh. “Tch- now that we can both agree on.”

And then he forces you to laugh too – beginning to snort like a boar into your ear, placing sloppy kisses to your neck while you scream out that it tickles.

P1 & P3