#she came at 23 pity...

[kajenus]

Look who I got!!!

[teabutmakeitazure]

I GOT THE DILF

[no-144444]

the break up of the century - (l.norris, no 4)

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pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! singer! reader

summary: you and lando break up on horrible terms, can a new album and a special performance bring you back together? is that even what you two want?

7.6k + words, brief fade-to-black smut, fluff, mainly angst :)

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You weren’t sure how it happened, one moment you were on stage, the next, you were crying in your dressing room, hating every single thing about your life. Funny how one moment leads into the next, right? 

Y/n Y/l/n. Household name at the age of 19. Now, 23. Fans impatiently awaiting your next album, the album you hated, and now on a world tour that is sucking the life from your body. 

Sounds like you have it all. 

The money, the fame, the clothes, the boys, the voice. It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of. And now it means nothing, because you have it. And it’s nowhere near as good as you wanted it to be.

You’d always been told of the horror stories of fame taking more than it gave, and you always brushed it off with a smile and a ‘that’ll never happen to me’. Low and behold, you’ve had 4 stalkers in 2 years, 3 lawsuits against you from old record companies that dropped you, 2 grammys, and 1 ridiculously public break-up with he-who-shall-not-be-named. 

Having it all really means having too much to think about, and too much to deal with. You would’ve preferred to just go to university like all your friends. Be young. Make mistakes. But those were luxuries you took for granted, and now you’re paying the price. 

“Y/n?” Sasha, your manager called from outside. “We have the meet and greet.”

And then there was your fans. They were great, obviously, but they were also very hyper teenagers and young adults that paid a lot of money to see you, and it made you feel even worse about not being 100%. At least you’d cut ticket prices down by 50% in meetings, meaning they were much cheaper than any other artist at the moment. At least you could do that for your fans. 

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your dress. 

“Do you need your makeup touched up?”

“Yes,” you answered, voice hoarse. “How many more shows?” 

“This was your 97th. You have 53 left.”

“Fuck!” You groaned. “Fuck this.”

“You have the British Gran Prix tomorrow, you have to make an appearance, alright? I’m sending Maria in to fix your makeup,” Sasha was trying to pity you, but she also had a job to do, which you understood. 

“Thanks Sash,” you sighed as Maria came in. 

“Hey babe,” she smiled softly, sympathy and pity shown in her eyes. 

“Hi,” you sniffled, wiping your last tear away. 

“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” She started unpacking her bag with all your makeup as you nodded, turning to face her. “You’re amazing. You were so pretty tonight.”

You somehow didn’t scoff in her face. “Thanks.”

“I know you don’t believe me,” she sighed. “I can’t even understand why. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You hiccupped, the tears threatening to pour again as you thought about him. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Stop thinking about him. You told yourself. He’s in the past.

But he wasn’t in the past, how could he be when he was always on your fucking feed with his new girlfriend. Allison and Lando, what a beautiful couple. More like a bunch of crap. They weren’t real, everyone knew it was just pr, especially considering that she was promoting her new racing movie. You had no idea why they even tried to keep up the charade. They didn’t even look good together. 

Alas, they were together, and you weren’t anymore. 

And you were going to be reminded of it every single second of the next day. 

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You pressed your entry card to the barrier and walked through as cameras flashed and you smiled one of your best fake smiles.

“Y/n!” Oscar smiled, walking up and hugging you. You knew everyone, and you started to feel embarrassed about everything. This was his workplace, and you had to be here to do press and sing a song you didn’t want to sing.

Bullshit.

“Hey Osc,” you smiled, hugging him back. 

“You look so wonderful today,” he smiled, taking your hand instead. He led you to the McLaren paddock as you two chatted about tour and races. You asked about Miami, and Oscar answered. “It was the best day of his life- his words!” 

“Meeting you was the best day of my life. That’ll never change.”

Oh. I guess it changed. 

“How's the tour? It looks amazing!” He cheered as you two entered the paddock. Mechanics and engineers greeting and hugging you as you went through and lied about how ‘amazing’ the tour is. 

“Y/n!” Zak cheered. “My favourite girl!”

He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and you hugged back. It felt good to be back, and to still have so many people still like you. “Hi Zak.”

“I missed you so much! Please tell me that awful Allison girl is gone and you and Lan are back? She’s driving me crazy,” he scoffed.

“No, I’m just here to do some press with Ferrari,” you chuckled. “But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see my favourite CEO.”

He sighed but nodded, knowing that Lando had the board cut you off the ‘influencer list’ when you two broke up. “Well, once you know that you’re my favourite.”

“You’re my favourite too,” you smiled. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Lips are sealed,” he smiled and moved on, going about his various duties. For a moment you looked around the paddock you had known so well and felt your heart ache a little. You loved Lando, you still loved Lando. You loved McLaren, and you loved the people here, yet you didn’t get to see them anymore because of the stupid fucking tour. This tour was ruining your life. You didn’t talk to family, or friends, you and Lando had broken up, you weren’t eating or sleeping, you always felt sick, you were rarely allowed to speak during the day so you could ‘conserve’ your voice for shows. 

But the worst part was that nobody noticed. 

“He's right y’know,” Oscar  smiled. “We all miss you. Even Lando.”

“Lando is with Allison. He has no reason to miss me.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “All they do is fight.”

“So? That’s what Lando and I did for weeks.”

“But it was different. You two were in a bad situation, but you loved each other, so the fights meant something. Allison and Lan are just wrong for each other, they’re fighting to fight.”

You groaned, sitting on the bench and resting your head in your hands. “When did you become a philosopher?”

Oscar laughed, and placed a hand on your back. “I’ve always been this philosophical, you were just too busy to notice.” 

“Shut up,” you chuckled, pushing him off. 

“All I’m saying is that you should talk to him, that’s all,” he shrugged, walking away from you and further into the paddock. 

“Y/n.”

Your head snapped up, so hard it hurt. There he was. Lando. For the first time in months. With Allison. And a dog.

Oh. 

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up. It was a puppy, a jack-russell terrier, the kind you’d always wanted. The kind like your childhood dog. Great, now they stole your dog breed. “Nice to see you.”

“I didn’t know you would be here,” he said bluntly. “What are you doing here?”

“Press for Ferrari. Oscar just… brought me in to say hi to everyone. So, hi. And now I’ll take my leave,” you smiled, then started to try and walk off. But Allison clearly had other plans, since she stuck out her hand for a ‘handshake’ that conveniently stopped you from walking off. 

“Allison,” she smirked. “And this is Mila.”

You stared blankly at Lando for a moment. Seriously? He’d taken the dog breed and what you’d agreed to be the name of your first child? Give me a break. 

“Y/n,” you shook her hand. “And I have to go, bye and good luck today.”

Thank god Ferrari was on the other side of the fucking track. 

“Y/n!” Charles cheered, hugging you close. You’d been getting closer with Charles since your split with Lando and his split with his ex had happened within a week of each other. “How are you?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, tired.”

“I have been seeing the tour, it looks great!” he smiled, pulling back. 

“Thanks Charles, it was amazing to see you, but I better go. I have to-”

“Sing the new song? Yes! I can't wait,” he cheered. You mustered up a small smile, and left him alone. 

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Sasha came and found you in the bathroom an hour later. “Y/n?” She was frantic, and stressed, so you just decided to give up and show yourself. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s time, come on,” she sighed. “I know this is hard-”

“How could you know it’s fucking hard? My entire life is in shambles and I’m supposed to be happy about it because I’m a ‘superstar’ what the fuck does that even mean? My boyfriend broke up with me because of this tour, and I thought I was going to marry him. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t that fucking crazy? And the worst part is, that I can’t even stop if I want to. I’m not allowed to stop. Sasha, how could you ever understand how hard this is for me? I’m 22. I should be in college, having fun. But instead I’m about to sing a song I don’t like or care about, in my ex-boyfriends workplace. Does that sound like fun to you, Sasha?” 

Her face was blank, stoic, unmoving. “Let’s go, you have soundcheck.”

You just followed her. Sasha was good at that, good at making you feel small, making you feel like a nuisance. The stage was big, bigger than most of your stadiums, but you didn’t care. You just had to get through it. 

“Have you eaten?”

“Feel sick,” you replied. “No thanks.”

Sasha sighed. “You’re going to faint one day.”

“Let’s hope I never wake up,” you replied dryly. Sasha scoffed and walked on, showing you the layout of the stage. You followed and asked questions, getting into ‘work mode’, and warming up your voice as you went along. A small crowd of the driver’s was gathering, even Lando was standing there, front row, just like he used to. 

You wanted to punch him, in all honesty. How could someone do that? He had no fucking right to stand there and watch you sing. He should be with Allison. 

“Start when you’re ready,” Sasha called and you nodded. 

The music started, and you were off. When the music started, you became someone else. You were moving around, laughing with your band, smiling. It was nice. Even if you hated the tour, you felt free on stage. Even if the song was sad. 

‘Champagne problems’, you’d written it right after your break up with Lando, it was new, and it had just been released. It had become the top of the charts in 15 countries. It would be on your next album, 

‘What if it doesn’t get easier like everybody says?’, and it was your most raw album. It was clearly all about your break up with Lando, there was no denying that. 

The song ended and the entire track clapped. You stopped moving when you spotted Lando’s parents, and you realised very quickly that you had to get out of there. 

You ran to the Ferrari hospitality, did some promos for your next album with them, and suddenly it was time to sing for real. The stands were full, the microphone was on, and the spotlight was on you. 

“Hi everyone,” you smiled, and the crowd erupted in cheering. “How are we feeling today?”

You had worn a short red dress, for Ferrari, and it was sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. Everyone could see how beautiful you looked. Your hair perfectly styled, your makeup flawless, your beautiful face. 

Lando was entranced. 

You started singing and you sounded like an angel, truely. Lando had always thought you sounded otherworldly. He knew it was about him. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he missed you. He knew it was too late, and that was the worst part. 

“Thank you so much for coming out and listening to my dumb sad song,” you chuckled as the crowd cheered. “But I have something else for you,” you were cut off by excited fans. I have something just a little bit happier, it’s called ‘Lover’. Please enjoy!”

Lando watched you as you danced around the stage, and he felt something dark growing in his stomach. You weren’t talking about him. It was someone new. You were seeing someone new. 

You couldn’t be seeing someone new, you’d been in a new city every few days. You couldn’t make it work with him, you were never on your phone, so it couldn’t be online. How did this happen?

You finished your song, and you left the stage. You fell into a chair and passed out. Maybe not eating was a bad idea? Probably. 

“Y/n,” Sasha shook you awake. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“I feel like shit-”

“We all do. Let’s go.”

And you followed. Because you had to. What else were you supposed to do but follow? Was this your life now? Taking orders and following them. 

“Now, you have to be nice to everyone, even Lando and Allison, alright?” she turned to you, stopping in front of the door. 

“I really don’t feel well,” you tried to protest. “Can I grab something to eat first?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be 15 minutes, you’ll survive,” she sighed, opened the door, and pushed you into the room.

The drivers and their partners all cheered, happy to see you back in the paddock. 

“Y/n! I missed you so much!” Carmen immediately pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you too,” you smiled, even if it was forced. You needed to sit down, you needed a drink, and you needed to be alone. 

“Some pretty amazing songs!” George cheered, patting you on the back. 

“Thanks George,” you smiled. Soon you were all sitting on the various couches and chatting, even if you didn’t speak. Lando’s eyes were glued to his hands as Allison’s eyes were glued to you. She was practically sitting on him, on the verge of straddling him if you looked in their direction again. She didn’t know it, but you were looking at the door behind them, wondering when you’d be called. It had surpassed the 15 minute mark, and you felt yourself getting more and more faint as time went on. 

“Y/n?” Allison cut across Daniel chatting to you about your latest show in Manchester, remembering a story of the two of you when you were there, and telling it to the group. “How’s the tour going?”

You cleared your throat. “Well, thanks,” you smiled shyly. 

“So the rumours that you haven’t been performing to your full capabilities aren't true? Like I’ve heard you’ve been lip syncing,” she smirked as the rest of the drivers and wags just looked at her with disgust. Oscar rolled his eyes. He’d been sick of her for weeks, and he was usually quite good with people he didn’t like, but he hated her. So did Lily. 

You gulped. “I don’t lip sync, but obviously 97 shows in 113 days is quite a lot for my voice, so I don’t always sing my super vocally- challenging songs every night or else I’d have to go on vocal rest all the time,” you explained, feeling the change in energy in the room. 

“And that would just be horrible, right guys?” She turned to Lando with a smirk on her face, but he was just looking down, embarrassed by her. “I’m a huge fan of your music, how much of it is about Lando?-”

“What the fuck?” George stood up with Carmen by his side. “Allison, what is your problem with her?”

“It’s just a question!” Allison defended as Lando got up and left. She looked a lot less imposing with Lando gone. “He’s my boyfriend now!”

“Yeah, we wish he wasn’t,” Lewis said under his breath.

“Guys, it’s fine,” you just wanted to leave. “Some of my songs are, because I like to put my feelings into music, right? But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself. Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well.”

With that, you got up and left. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if Sasha screamed at you, you didn’t care if they all came running after you. 

It was done. You and Lando were over. Was it your choice? No. Was it a choice you had to deal with? Yes. His choice. Yet, everyone had looked to you for answers. ‘What happened?’ ‘Was it going downhill?’ or your personal favourite; ‘Did he get bored?’.

You didn’t know. All you knew was that one moment, you were with him, and the next you weren’t. 

You ran to your dressing room and lay down, eating some random snacks you found. You felt better after eating, you felt-

Knock knock. 

“Come in!” You called, not caring much about who it was.

“Hi,” Lando’s voice was small and quiet. 

You sat up, staring at him. 

“Beautiful songs,” he smiled softly. “Missed hearing you sing.”

You nodded. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks,” he sighed. “I'm sorry about Allison, she’s the fucking worst.” 

You chuckled softly. “I’m sorry you’re dating her.”

He cracked a soft smile, then it fell. “Who’s the new lucky guy for you?” He watched as your face fell. 

“No… no new guy, just an old one I wrote back at the start of… us…” you trailed off. 

His heart was shattering, watching you be treated like this. Watching from afar as you lost your mind, lost your life, over a fucking tour. He saw the soulless look in your eyes, the dropped weight, the dampened smiles, all of it. He was shocked that other people couldn’t see it too. He’d regretted breaking up with you since the moment he did it. He was haunted by the way you begged him to stay, and he questioned how he’d ever said no to you. How was he so blind-sighted? How did he not see how much pressure you were under? How did he not see that he was what was keeping you above ground? 

“Oh,” he breathed out. 

You took a deep breath. “I’m releasing an album soon, and a lot of the songs are about our relationship,” you explained hesitantly. “I wanted to offer you a chance to listen to it before it goes out, just as a… heads-up? In case you’re worried about what’s on it.”

God, punching him square in the face would hurt less than watching you feel awkward around him. He cleared his throat. “Oh umm…yeah. I’d like that. Thank you.”

You nodded and got up, taking a cd out of your backpack. “Here you go. Sorry again, about… everything.” 

“I’m sorry too,” he nodded. “So, are you leaving now or…?”

“No, I’m holding the chequered flag today, so I’ll be up at race control,” you explained, trying to look anywhere other than him. “And I’m handing off the 1st place trophy.”

“Maybe I’ll be first to see you,” he chuckled. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. 

“The tour looks… awful. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he spoke after a minute’s silence. 

You just shrugged. “Not your fault,” you lied. 

He knew this was when he was meant to leave, but he wasn’t sure when you two would be in the same room again. He didn’t know when he’d see you again, so he took a moment to fully take you in. “You were really incredible today. You sounded like an-”

“Angel? Thanks Lando, see you soon,” you nodded, finishing the compliment you always used to get from him. He nodded and left, realising he had no more time. 

When the door closed you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. How could he do that? How could he stand there and be nice to you, after what he said that night? After what he fucking put you through?

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Weeks of complaining from him, blaming you for his performance in races, telling you that you needed to be there for him, not calling you back, not texting back, not listening when you told him about how awful everything was going. 

“I’m sorry Lan, I know how hard this is. It’s hard for me too-”

“How the fuck can you say that? You’re the one who choose to do this, you fucking decided to tear us apart! This is all your fault, and you’re telling me it’s ‘hard’ for you. What is hard for you? Spending all your time with adoring fans? Being on stage and living your dreams? Being away from me?”

“Lan, you know better than anyone that I didn’t want this tour to happen,” you cried. Even then, even 48 shows in, you were being driven crazy. You were exhausted, you missed home, and you missed Lando. “I had no choice-”

“You had every fucking choice! And don’t give me that fucking bullshit about your label forcing you, we both know that’s a fucking lie!” he shouted. You hated it when he shouted, when anyone shouted. He had no fucking right to speak to you like that. You didn’t want this to happen, you had no say, you just had a contract and an incompetent lawyer to thank.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” you shrugged, your voice breaking. “I love you, and I miss you. We can make this work Lan, I just need time to figure it out, alright? I just need time-”

“Yeah? Well I’ve given you all the time I have to give. We’re done, I bet I could find a million girls just like you, girls who would actually take my feelings into account before she made huge life decisions!” he scoffed.

“Lando, please don’t do this. I-I don’t know what- I- Lan please, I need you,” you pleaded. “I’m trying my best I swear-”

“Your best isn’t good enough.”

And he hung up.

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The fallout of your relationship didn’t exactly go great either. A day later your feed was flooded with pictures of Lando out with someone else. One day later. 

What the fuck? Didn’t he care? Didn’t he love you?

Well, apparently not. 

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Lando knew he wouldn’t see you again for months. This was his only fucking chance to speak to you, to see you, and instead, he stayed in his driver’s room listening to the heart-wrentching songs you’d written about him. God, if he thought ‘champagne problems’ was devastating, ‘cowboy like me’ was worse. It was a long album, almost 2 hours long. It spanned your entire relationship, starting out, your first date, your grammy win, his podiums, the hate you two got, the start of the fighting, the end of the relationship, and the after. It was awful reliving it from your perspective, especially since you had tried to tell him, and every time he’d pick a fight. 

“Lando?” Oscar’s voice came from outside his door. “Allison’s looking for you.”

“Tell her to piss off!”

“You can do that, mate,” he scoffed and walked off, into his own driver’s room. 

“Lan?” Her voice rang out, and he wanted to scream. He had put himself in this position, he knew it,  but it was still difficult to fully self-actualise his own shortcomings. 

“What?” he groaned, opening the door. 

“The other girls are excluding me,” she pouted. 

“I wonder why,” Lando rolled his eyes. “They love Y/n.”

Her face fell into a frown. “But you love me, so they should love me. They keep going off to find her and talk to her, and any time I try to tell them that I’m uncomfortable around her, they tell me not to come.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he sighed. 

“Talk to their boyfriends, ask them to include me!”

“Babe, I have a fucking race today, please leave me alone,” he sighed. He pushed past her to walk to the paddock, knowing he just had to keep his head down and race today, he just had to do the one thing he was good at. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?” 

“I don’t know,” he grunted, and moved on. The garage was somehow too loud yet not loud enough to drown out the negative thoughts in his head. Recent months had been difficult. Races were taking more and more out of him, he was lonely, and if he wasn’t training or racing, he was looking at old photos of you or watching the tour. He could see how you deflated as you left the stage, how upset you looked going on stage. It was all a terrible reminder of how selfish he’d been. How hadn’t he seen it? Why didn’t he listen? 

He remembered telling Max what had happened. He’d gotten so angry, begging him to call you back and apologise. He’d been so blindsighted, he wouldn’t listen to Max. Why was Max always right?

“You good?” Oscar asked, a hand on his shoulder to drag him out of his thousand-yard stare. 

Lando sighed. “Good,” he lied, and it wasn’t convincing. Everyone knew what you were to him. You grounded him, you knew him, every single part of him. You loved him. “You?”

“Good. Y/n’s set was great earlier,” he offered a small smile. “At least you have a good break-up album, right?”

Lando cracked a small smile. Oscar was good at that, making him laugh when he was down. “Yeah, it feels great when it’s about you.”

Oscar chuckled. “Story for the grandkids,” he shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.”

Lando nodded. 

“Oh yeah,” Oscar added. “When you left, Allison asked Y/n what songs were about you, so just… expect that conversation with her, I guess? I’m not entirely sure what’ll happen-”

“What did Y/n say?”

Oscar swallowed. “Something like; ‘some of my songs are, ‘cause I like to put my emotions into music. But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself’.”

Lando nodded, and could tell by the look on Oscar’s face that he was holding something back. “That’s it?”

“‘Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well’,” Oscar finished. “Then she left.”

Lando nodded as the weight on his chest got heavier. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course,” Oscar offered a pity-smile and walked off to his side of the garage. 

Lando was always a person to be stuck inside his own head. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. He didn’t know how to talk about them. Yet, you always knew how to get him to talk. You always had the right solution, the right thing to say, the right face to make. He was in awe of you, so effortlessly perfect. 

He remembered back to Greece, back in the off-season, before the tour, before the season started. Before he fucked everything up. 

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You smiled as he pulled you closer. The air was anything but cold, and the water was still. There you two sat, sitting on the bow of the as the sun set. The clear water beneath the yacht you’d been on for the past few days was calm and steady, lulling you both into an unmistakable tiredness. Yte, Lando wanted to stay up, wanting to soak up as much time with you as he could. He was going to miss you so much this season. You hadn’t ever been to every race in a season, you were a busy person, he understood that. He was a busy person too. But you’d go to as many races as possible. Now, ‘as many races as possible’ means about 4. Stupid tour. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, your eyes closed as you soaked in the moment. You leant against his chest as you lay in his arms, your favourite place to be. 

“How much I’ll miss you this year,” he admitted. There was never any point in lying to you, you always knew. 

You pressed a kiss to his arm. “I’ll miss you too.”

You were straight forward with things, he loved that. It was a bad situation. You were off to a tour you didn’t want to do, and he was off to another season. 

“I love you,” he confessed. He said it a lot, but it always felt special. He made you feel special. You made him feel special.

“I love you,” you opened your eyes, a smile on your lips. You spoke again after a few moments of silence. “You’re going to win a race this season, I can tell.”

He chuckled. “Once I get back home to you, I don’t care if I win.”

You laughed. “Sure, we all believe you.”

He smiled. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You looked at him for a moment, that perfect, soft smile on your face. “Ditto,” you laughed as he did too. Your laugh was melodic, his favourite sound. 

“Who says ‘ditto’ to that?!” he laughed.

“I do,” you chuckled. 

You two locked eyes for a moment, then he leant down and pressed his lips to yours, soft and sweet. 

The perfect night. 

----------------

He caught a glance of your red dress walking into the garage. 

“Y/n!” The engineers cheered. He heard your laughter. 

The room was a collection of cheers and conversation, and he wanted more than anything to be able to walk over to you and hold you, and kiss you, and tell everyone to leave you alone because you were his girlfriend, not theirs. 

You walked in with a smile on your face. That smile dropped in half a second. Everyone was talking, everyone was patting you on the back, everyone was looking at you. You caught a glance of Lando and immediately felt the pit in your stomach grow. Everyone knew everything, everyone looked at you. Everyone blamed you. Oscar wrapped his arm around you and walked you through the garage as he saw you getting overwhelmed. He’d learnt the signs from his little sisters. Blown out pupils, teary eyes, tight features, heavy breathing. Oscar had always been a great friend to you, he’d always cared for you. He brought you through, doing most of the talking if anyone stopped you two and let you in his driver’s room, promising to grab you when you could leave without being bombarded by crew, or the press. 

Lando followed behind after a few minutes, then knocked on the door. He knew how to calm you down, he was probably the only person who did. 

Oscar opened the door looking panicked. “She’s having a panic attack,” he whispered. 

Lando nodded and walked in, taking your hand in his as you hid your face in your other hand. He knelt beside you on the floor as you sat on the bed. “It’s me baby, I’m right here. Come on, squeeze my hand,” he said, voice steady. You didn’t. “You need to start breathing properly, squeeze my hand like I’m squeezing yours,” He put some light pressure on your hand, which jump-started you into squeezing his hand as hard as you could. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. You hated how well he knew you. You wanted him to not know you, to not understand you and your body better than you did. “Just like that,” he cooed. He pressed your hand to his chest, where you could feel his steady and calm breathing, feel his regular heartbeat. It was in stark contrast to you. The thump of your own heartbeat in your ears, the quick breathing, the erratic heart. “Breathe with me. Please baby,” his voice was soft and comforting. You tried, gently slowing your breathing down to normal. The adrenaline was still rushing through your body as you calmed down. Oscar offered you a water bottle and you let go of Lando’s hand to take it. 

“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry,” you said, sounding smaller than ever. “Zak said he wanted to see me after my set. I should’ve just said no.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Oscar placed a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously.”

“We want you here,” Lando added. The air was sucked from the room. “I want you here.”

“You don’t,” you refuted. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Lando sighed. “Let me walk you back to Ferrari, please?”

You shook your head, finally looking up and making eye contact with him. “You and I both know how that’ll go.”

Lando nodded, his heart breaking for the thousandth time. It’s hard to find an end to something you never want to let go of. “Ok,” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him. 

“Goodbye Lando,” you sighed, then took Oscar’s arm and let him lead you back to Ferrari. 

----------------

“I’m sorry about Lando,” Oscar sighed as you two walked up to the entrance to Ferrari. “About the break up, now, and basically everything in between. He’s been… difficult recently. He’s always been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy I guess… I just… you made him better, y’know?”

You chuckled sadly. “Thank you for apologising, but you don’t have to. Lando is an adult, so am I. Things just… end sometimes. Him and I just aren’t meant to be.”

Oscar cocked an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Oscar had never been this straightforward with you, and he sure as hell had never broached this topic before. You just nodded and took his hand. “Thanks for helping me.”

And then you walked back to Ferrari. 

Oscar did get one thing right, Lando wasn’t done with you. Maybe it was seeing you again, maybe it was the album, maybe it was Allison, maybe it was all of it, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he was still in love with you. He’d never stopped. How could he? He missed everything about you, your lips, your smile, your kindness, the way you’d make him laugh, the way you’d make him smile. Everything. He missed listening to you sing, seeing you on a stage that you wanted to be on. Seeing you get to be you. 

----------------

The Silverstone after-party with Charles who dragged you along. You’d thought it would be a bad idea, but when you were already 8 shots deep, you didn’t really notice. Yuki had pulled you away to sing a karaoke duet with him as Pierre and Charles laughed at you both, and you somehow ended up outside on the balcony with Carlos, both of you laughing at something random. 

“Y/n!” Lando cheered, clearly as drunk as you. A part of you had forgotten about everything before this moment, like you were seeing him for the first time. Perfect, with his curls, unbuttoned shirt, and damn pretty smile. “I didn’t know you were here!” 

“Lan!” you cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Carlos gave you both a very confused look, but was called away by Charles for a game of beer pong. Surprisingly, these ‘fancy’ parties usually just turned into something out of a frat house in Florida. Maybe it was just Logan’s presence. “How are you?” You slurred. 

“I feel great!” he shouted. “We should go for a walk!” 

“Yes!” you agreed. 

----------------

And that’s how you ended up back in his hotel room making out with him on his bed as he pulled your dress off. Funny how things can happen when you’re actually 18 shots deep, not 8. Oops?

“So pretty,” he murmured into your neck as he settled you on his lap. “So pretty for me.”

You laughed into his mouth, pulling back. “Lan, speed up.”

He smirked at you, his eyes heavy, then pressed his lips to yours again. He fully pulled your dress off of you as you started making quick work of his belt and trousers. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered in his ear and he let out a low moan. “Please Lan.”

He didn’t waste time. 

----------------

You woke up the next morning with a blinding headache, and a very naked Lando Norris beside you. You had to leave. You’d just fucked him, and he had a girlfriend. You were a homewrecker. You didn’t know if the sudden urge to vomit came up because of that, or the 18 shots of straight vodka you did the night before. 

You quickly grabbed your clothes, shoes, one of his hoodies, and tried to salvage whatever dignity you had left, then made a swift exit. It was still dark out and you were just praying that you could get through the 2 blocks you had to walk to your hotel without running into someone, or running into cameras. You quickly dialled Sasha’s number and tried to stop yourself from crying. You just pray you two used protection, or fell asleep before doing anything real.

“Morning?” she answered groggily. 

“Sasha I did something really fucking stupid,” you admitted, the tears welling up in your eyes as you walked into the lobby of your hotel. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Come to my room, we’ll sort it out,” she sighed. “You’ll be ok kiddo, I promise.”

----------------

You knocked on her hotel room door, tears in your eyes. 

“It’s 5 am,” she stated, opening the door. 

You rushed in, bursting into tears. “I think I fucked Lando, I mean- I-I think we fucked, last night- we were so drunk a-and then I don’t re-remember,” you hiccuped. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

She put a hand on your shoulder, sighing. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” she nodded. “But it’s not the end of the world. Did you use protection?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll go get Plan B, you stay here. Get changed into some pyjamas. Get some water, relax. Just don’t leave the hotel, yeah?”

“Alright,” you agreed. She left for the door. “Sash?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. She offered you a pitying smile, and went on her way. 

----------------

Months passed and you both went on with your lives. He didn’t reach out, you didn’t either. Sadly, you were in fact a homewrecker. A week after ‘the incident’ Allison and Lando broke up. You truthfully felt so ashamed and awful for the girl. It wasn’t right what you two had done, and truly, you were insanely drunk. In no world would you fuck Lando Norris sober. 

The tour had finally ended, and your world was no longer turned upside down. You were working on new music, healing your body after all the travel and abuse you put it through, and continuing to try and get over Lando. 

It hurt like a bitch. He hurt like a bitch. 

----------------

Lando two-wins. Contender in the Championship. Supposedly dating someone. Last Lap Lando.

Lonely Lando, more like. Max Fewtrell had decided to stage an intervention and join him for the rest of the races, worried about his mental state. Since seeing you again, he’d been… less than alright. He’d talk about you all the time, stalk your instagram (to the point that Max took his phone off of him in Greece), and generally just think about you a lot. It was coming up to the album drop, and you were having your launch party in Italy. The same weekend as the race. All because Charles wanted to come. 

Shit was bound to go down, and no one was more excited than Hallie. 

You were dressed to the nines, nervous and excited. You’d fired half of your team, you’d dropped your old label, and you’d become… happier? That couldn’t be right, not when you felt the oppressive weight of your own regret on your chest everyday. Not when you woke up reaching for Lando. Not when you watched every single race and couldn’t look away until he was safely across that damn finish line. 

You were surviving. That’s the best you could do. 

----------------

“You look beautiful,” Charles smiled as he walked into the party. The night had gone off without a hitch so far. A select group of fans, influencers, celebrities, and almost all the drivers were mingling with one another, and not one sighting of Lando Norris. Not that you didn’t miss his face, or him in general. You did. More than you’d ever thought possible to miss someone.  

“Thanks Charles,” you smiled, pulling him into a hug. “You look great too.”

He smiled and beside him, Alexandria smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You continued the superficial chatting for a few moments, just hoping Charles wouldn’t ask the dreaded question. 

He looked at you for a second too long, and you knew it was coming. “Are you alright?” God, why did he have to ask stupid fucking questions? Obviously you weren’t alright. Obviously, if you could, you would run away. Obviously, you were drowning. 

Didn’t he see that? Didn’t anyone notice? Didn’t anyone care?

Apparently not. 

You nodded, putting on your best fake smile. “Just nervous.”

He nodded. It was enough to fool him. 

The night went on in a flurry of uncomfortable small talk, ridiculous requests from your most esteemed guests, and it was finally time to start listening to the album. You stood on stage, a nervous smile on your face as everyone looked at David, your producer, who was speaking in length about how proud of the record he was, and how proud he was of you. Everything was perfect. Everything was right in the world. 

But, of course, because he had to always be the centre of your universe, Lando walked in. 

And you were fucked. Every single breathing technique you’d learnt, every single pressure point tapping you’d done, it all left your head. Everything stopped. You stopped breathing. You stopped. 

But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel bad to have him there. It felt awfully, and soul-crushingly, right. Lando was always meant to be there, a devastating realisation that you didn’t exactly want to make while on stage in front of 200 people. 

“Any words, Y/n?” David asked, passing you the mic. 

You looked at Lando and he smiled, waving at you. You smiled back. 

“Please enjoy this album, it’s from a very important time of my life where I finally learnt what it meant to be in love, and be loved wholly in return. Obviously, it didn’t end very well, and that’s when I learnt what grieving someone was. I still have a lot of love for him, probably more than I should. But I have it. And I had nowhere to put it, so I put it to music, which is really the only thing I think I’ll ever truly understand. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you understand it,” You explained to the crowd. You watched Lando the entire time, looking at how his eyes lit up when you talked about your relationship. Lando had always cared about you. He always would. 

The opening cords of the first song started playing, and the attention was off of you. The crowd just closed their eyes and listened. You exited the stage and joined the crowd, desperately trying to get out of there. You stood on the balcony as the music blasted inside. People danced along, sang along as they started learning the words, and you stayed outside, tears falling. 

“You’re beautiful,” Lando’s whisper made you jump. You turned to see him, standing there behind you. “The album’s beautiful.”

You scoffed. “The album’s an album. What was beautiful was us,” you sighed. “Thank you for coming.”

He nodded, leaning against the barrier beside you. “Do you even wish our lives weren’t as complicated as they are?”

You chuckled. “More than anything.”

“We were beautiful,” he shook his head, trying to remember why he ever ruined the best thing in his life. “If you ever find yourself wanting to love me again, just… call me?”

You nodded, looking at him. “I will.”

He nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder and letting it sit there for a split-second, just to remind him of what it was like to touch you. Just to remind himself that once, he didn’t have to wonder if you loved him, to remind him of the unwavering support you gave him, to remind him of how his whole world came crashing down when he made you leave it. “I love you,” he whispered before walking to the door. 

His phone started ringing in his pocket as he got back inside. Unknown number. He answered it. 

“I think I want to love you again,” he could hear your smile through the phone and he immediately whipped around, his smile growing as he got closer to you. When he stood in front of you again, you both took the phones down and smiled at each other.

Lando didn’t waste time. He closed the gap between you two in one simple stride, wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. “I love you so much,” he pulled back. “I’m never letting you go again.”

----------------

landonorris

1,488,928 likes | liked by oscarpiastri, y/ny/l/n, and others

love of my life. @ y/ny/l/n

comments

user28: WHAT THE FUCK THEY BROKE UP MONTHS AGO THO????-> user92: they were seen kissing at her launch party

y/ny/l/n: who's that pretty girl? -> oscarpiastri: she's too good for him -> landonorris: >:( -> oscarpiastri: hurt her again and I push you off the track. ->carlossainz: I second this -> charleslecerc: I third this -> alexalbon: I fourth this -> georgerussell: I fifth this.

georgerussell: Trying to beat me with no shirt?

lewishamilton: Yay! (I begged her not to take you back you asshole). -> pierregasly: Yay! (I'm trying to be supportive of her).

lilymhe: fuck off. ->user83: LMAO -> user18: DAMN EVERYONE HATES HIM

danielriccardo: HAHAHAHAHAH (I'm crying.)

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[norrizzandpia]

i am Politely Asking for the lando post-race imagine you mentioned 👀👀👀

Your guys’ wish is my command 🤭

All He Needed Was Her (LN4)

Summary: Following the Vegas ‘23 crash, Y/n and Adam find Lando in his hospital bed, yearning for the comfort of his girlfriend’s touch.

Warnings: a panic attack, inferences of death, Lando crashing

Note: that crash was so hard to watch and i still have not recovered

Silence encompassed the space around her, her mind sick with the images of Lando’s crash. What she thought could potentially be his first race win had turned into her worst nightmare as Lando’s car laid smashed against the protecting fences. Her mouth stayed agape as she listened to her boyfriend’s broken “I’m ok,” followed by concerning whimpers and groans. Her eyes frantically searched the room, the faces of his loved ones burned into her brain with their watery eyes and panicked looks. She couldn’t bear the tension within the space, the expressions of the people around her like he had died. The room closed in on her quickly, allowing for no space to breathe or get out of the anxiety filling her lungs. She felt trapped, a panic attack coming on inevitably when she saw the way his hand shook, his arms trying to push himself out of the car yet failing continuously.

She shoved the headset off her ears, shutting out the taunting sounds, before throwing herself into the crowd behind her and pushing them to the side as she tried desperately to claw herself out. She couldn’t turn her head back to see the screens, not even when applauding emitted and a good sign emerged. Y/n reached the door, her hand grasping the handle and hesitating. A large hand grasping her shoulder called her back, willing her to open her eyes and see the survival of her love. When she turned around, her eyes looking up, she was met with the soft look of Adam, Lando’s father.

No matter how comforting he was trying to be, his bloodshot eyes reminded her of the risks her boyfriend took, the chances of him not getting out of that car after a race.

It was too much.

Her heart beat out of her chest and she struggled to find air, her impending anxiety surely, gradually, painfully encroaching her being.

Adam, being familiar with the anxiety attacks his son got, saw the signs, opening the door behind her quickly and shoving her into the empty hallway. His hands landed on her biceps, gripping them as he shook her gently.

“Y/n?” His voice was distant and Y/n wanted to run toward it, however nothing was ever that easy.

He tried again, “Y/n, breathe with me.”

Her mind understood, her lungs expanding shortly as he began to inhale. Tears seeped through the crack of her lips, adding to the drowning she felt she was enduring.

She blubbered and sobbed as she tried to follow his pattern, proving difficult when suffocation seemed probable.

Nevertheless, Adam’s determination triumphed, her mind slowing down as her body caught up.

He looked at her with pity as she came down, his eyes swimming in a certain sympathy she didn’t recognize. This was deeper, he was seeing the pain she was bearing, relating to it because of the exact connection they both nurtured with the boy.

His hands left her arms, stilling at his sides as he began to coax her toward his driver’s room, “How about you rest for a while? That seemed really bad.”

She shook her head immediately, “No, I need to be awake for Lando. What if he needs to go to the hospital?”

Adam closed his eyes as he nudged her into the small room, “Then, I will come wake you. But, for now, he’s going to go to the circuit’s medical center and there’s nothing we can do. It’s best if you allow yourself to relax after that.”

She knew he was right, more so because he sounded exactly like his son. When she had these horrid experiences, Lando was right beside her immediately, gently leading her to any surface where she could lie down. He knew exactly how to make it go away, she never expected to have to do it without him or because of him. He was consistently advocating for her rest after an attack, something that always helped her recover more quickly.

That memory, those habitual instances, persuaded her to give in to Adam’s pleas. He smiled at her as she brought a blanket over her body, Lando’s scent encompassing her body.

“I promise I’ll be back when I have updates.”

She nodded, trusting him like she had for the past few years, “Okay, thank you.”

He closed the door with a nod, the dark haunting her enough to close her eyes and lean into the quiet, peaceful embrace of sleep.

—

She was awoken by shaking, more specifically Adam’s hands shaking her upper body.

“Y/n, wake up.” He whispered, his words guiding her back to the world.

Her eyes fluttered open, “Yeah?”

He seemed stoic, rigid and stressed, something that made Y/n truly wake up, “Lando’s at the hospital. They said we can meet him there.”

She shot up from her laid down position, “What?! The hospital?! Is he okay?!”

His father sighed beside her, getting up and showing how antsy he was to move when he lingered by the door, “I don’t know.”

—

The pair burst through the doors of the hospital, launching themselves at the nurses who sat behind the desk. Their words mixed together as they sputtered out his name, occupation, and situation. This proved to be inefficient because the women looked back at them blankly.

Y/n tried again, “We are here to see Lando Norris. He is a Formula 1 driver and he was involved in an accident.”

It dawns on the employee and her head tilts slightly, “I can’t give out information on him because of his status and occupation. I am sorry. Unless you can prove you are family to him then I can’t give you anything.”

Adam’s hand flew to his pocket, whipping out his wallet and showing her his identification, proving his blood relation to Lando. Y/n watched with a heavy heart as she realized she had nothing to show, she wasn’t family. She was crushed as she realized he would be able to go on to see their boy without her.

When the woman gave him the room number, she gave it to him on paper so as to deter anyone overhearing, he bolted. He was right at the door that led to another hallway when he stopped and turned around, motions for Y/n to follow him.

“I need to see your proof of family relations.” The nurse beside her said expectantly whilst Adam moved back over to the desk.

She shook her head, “I’m his girlfriend. I don’t have proof of blood relations.”

The nurse shrugged, “Then, I’m sorry, I can’t have you go through.”

Y/n opened her mouth to fight back, but Adam interrupted her, “No, she has to. I’ve just shown you I’m his father, take my word for it. Please. My son needs her right now.”

The nurse seemed to be at a crossroads as her gaze flickered between Adam and Y/n. Finally, she nodded curtly and the two were running throughout the building. Down different hallways within the floor, they quickly reached his room. Without thinking, Adam charged in, a strong wave of emotion hitting him when he saw his son wrapped up in a hospital bed.

“Lando,” He sighed, arms falling around Lando’s body as he squeezed him softly, careful with him.

“Hi, dad. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry if I scared you.” He mumbled into his shoulder, hand laying loosely over the back of his father.

Y/n watched from the corner, tears pricking the sides of her eyes at the sight of him. She watched as they pulled back, Lando’s eyes meeting hers and softening with relief before Adam was coughing and excusing himself from the room.

When they were left alone, she walked slowly to him. She stood in front of him for a moment, both individuals taking in the other after the traumatic time apart. When he had had enough of not holding her in his arms, Lando reached out and pulled her closer to his body, arms linking around her hips as he stuffed his face into her chest. She breathed out as her hands tangled in his hair, both of them memorizing the way the other calmed them in such a state.

He clung to her, breathing steady as she whispered sweet, quiet words of love and encouragement to him.

“Sit with me?” He asked with a low volume, pulling back slightly and looking up at her.

She could never say no to his deep green eyes, “Always.”

He shifted to the side as she slid in next to him. She watched the way his eyes lingered over her lap. Chuckling, Y/n sat further against the wall, “Lay your head on my lap, baby.”

He smiled at her brightly, a childlike grin as he shuffled down and set his curly hair over her pants.

A silence passed before she was whispering again, “I love you so much. It was so scary seeing you crash today and I just could not live a life without you. I love you, Lan. You’ve ruined my life for the better. There’s no way I could ever go a day without you.”

He nodded below her, “I can’t either. I kept asking for you when I was at the circuit after the crash, but they kept telling me I couldn’t have any visitors with the impact I had just endured. I was so angry, all I wanted was you. I’ve been like a sitting duck as I stared at the wall and waited for you to arrive. But, now that you’re here, I already feel like I’m getting better. That’s your impact on me. I love you too, love. Being without you for that was worse than the crash itself.”

She looked down at him, leaning over to kiss his temple. When he felt the pressure, he turned his head. She had been pulling back, but got the hint when he looked up at her expectantly. He giggled as she leaned back down, meeting his lips with her own in an intimate, soft kiss.

When they pulled back, she watched his eyes slowly close when she began massaging his scalp and tugging gently at his brown hair. He moaned quietly at the feeling, stroking his hand over her leg as she comforted him with just her presence.

He buried his face further into her lap, breathing her in. By the change of angle, she lost sight of his face, only relying on the monitor to tell her he had fallen asleep when it evened out, reaching a rhythm.

Only then did Adam return, smiling lightly at his sleeping son laying in the lap of his girlfriend. Truly the sweetest sight, he thought, something he would’ve taken a picture of had Y/n been asleep as well.

He sat in the chair beside them, cocking his head at her.

“Thank you.”

The two words caused Y/n’s eyebrows to draw together, confusion etched into her face, “For what?”

Adam sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “For being there for him. Not just now, but all the time. He’s always put everyone else first. He’s always made it the biggest priority to make others feel good when he wasn’t at all. Cisca and I always wished for someone to come along and take care of him right back. Turns out our wishing wasn’t in vain. Here you are and he’s finally understanding what it’s like to be loved that way.”

Y/n stared at him for a moment, eyes averting back to her sleeping boyfriend strewn across her lap, before choking out, “Thank you, Adam. That means the world from you.”

“Just speaking the truth.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair before kicking his legs up toward the end of the bed. He watched her lean her head back, scumming to sleep just like Lando, her hands still buried in his hair.

That was when he took the picture, sending it to the Norris Family group chat, it including Y/n, and assuring the members of Lando’s wellness.

Adam (2:35 AM)

Image Attachment

Adam (2:35 AM)

Lando’s okay! Don’t worry! All he needed was some medication to calm his nerves and Y/n 🧡

[bentosandbox]

quick TL for Swummer Module bc it was great (and a bit of Chummer's module)

Happy 5 year anniversary of the chenswire (chapter 5) banner

[Pinned] Regular Chat Group (4)

16:26 Guma: I'm hungry, what's for dinner? Swire: Let's have something nice. Grand Lungmen Resturant, 8PM! You need to try that new puhn choi on their menu. It's their usual recipe, but they use ingredients sourced from that new MCT trade route. They have stuff from Rim Billiton to Sargon. Super fresh. The set also comes with a bottle wine from Sami! Swire: Bison and I worked our asses off to establish this supply chain so you guys better try it! @ Rat Rat: You're counting me in?

17:09 Guma: So hungry. can we go now? Swire: There's no seats available rn, just snack on something first!

18:32 Guma: hungry...

19:20 Guma: so hungryyyyyyy...

19:58 Rat: Something urgent came up, you guys go on without me

20:08 Swire: Huh? Swire: Wb hoshiguma?

20:23 Swire: It's been so long since we had a meal together so we better get one today! Lmk what you want to eat asap after work!

20:41 Swire: so what are we having tonight?

21:19 Swire: what are we having tonightttt??????? Swire: LIN YUXIA I SAW YOUR READ NOTIF!! answer! Rat: I just finished work. Didn't you just release your Director Swire Lungmen Food Guide with the nonstop noisy af TV ads. why are you asking me to decide Guma: Done with my emergency mission. I'm fine w anything as long as there's meat. So hungry I could eat an entire burdenbeast head Rat: What about the snack street? 'the shopping district is right next door, a convergence of unique goods from all over Terra. Only in Lungmen can you shop the whole land!' Writing's not bad Swire: Duh its my work so ofc the copywriting has to be good too Guma: nah sounds like there won't be a lot of meat Swire: Remember the volcanic mud cleanser I got for you @ Rat and the surfboard @ Guma you can buy them there too Swire: Bison and i adjusted the prices until they're just slightly pricier than what you'd pay in siesta. Does that work? Guma: Don't feel like eating surfboard Rat: Then international trade park? The guide's no.2 Swire: Sure we're drawing some investors over there atm so there's plenty of foreign food there they're p good Guma: I want meat also ill take more than 30min to get there from here ill die from hunger Swire: Pity. It's pretty popular with the youths yk, recommended date spot Rat: Agh! Rat: Final option. The cai zhe min stall behind the LGD office. That or you guys can starve Guma: no objections Swire: no objections

21:30 Swire: wait LYX why do you have my guide i thought you didn't like that sort of noise Rat: Just happened to pick it up, problem?

21:33 Rat: Why is the czm stall not in your guide? Swire: I wanted to but the boss wouldn't let me sth about its too bougie for him hes just a regular noodle stall Swire: True tho. Certified Lungmen™️ moment

21:38 Guma: I already ordered come ASAP

23:35 Guma: Why hasn't chen read any of our messages? Swire: Bc she has to connect to an intercity net first. Who knows she might just be on the top of a haystack in some valley waving her terminal around for signal right now

--new messages-- PGL: ...... PGL: you mean a pile of rubble PGL: I'm back in lungmen, i want to eat czm too

thoughts/notes:

As I mentioned in the other ask Swire set nicknames for the other 3 Hoshi: 🐻🐻 Chen: Puk Gaai Lung Lin: Stinky Rat (wanted to use CLS (cau lau syu) but i kept misreading it as cho shan land so lmaoo

Hoshi 'i don't feel like having surfboard for dinner' guma

Lin really likes her cart noodles huh (nodding)

Hoshi and Lin both finished their urgent work at the same time 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

this is so good for character study idk like the way lin is like indirectly 'me too?' and never commits but doesn't exactly ghost 24/7 either also her being like -_-💢this or you starve idc HOSHIGUMA.....hungryguma so cute she dgaf Swire. 'the youths love coming here for dates' spoken like a real 25+yo AND CHEN... when youre that one guy in the gc whos overseas or in a diff timezone .......i doubt the timeline doesn't add up so nicely but i had a funny mental image of the 3 eating their noodles and then suddenly chen in her victorian outfit shows up behind them all covered in blood and dust from ch14

Right uh Chummer module:

shes in dossoles, some boy is asking her for help because his dad pulled his mom into some smuggling trade (and he used to be part of it too) chen is like dw i'll punish him and his gang if they deserve it and the boy asked if prison will reform his dad (chen: ...why do you ask) saying his dad used to be Normal but then became money hungry after they came to dossoles and promised him he would take them on a cruise to spot rainbows or something?? chen is like theres water everywhere here shouldnt you have seen enough rainbows. hes like it doesnt count it has to be on a ship and all... she thinks its valid as she remembers how much she wanted wei's approval back then and asks if he still thinks the same and hes like yeah but i cant do it alone... chen is silent for a moment and then helps the boy out, leaving a note before they split ways 'then you'll have to figure out a way to make him hear you out, to tell him you want him to be a better person. at least, he needs to understand your point of view' then it switches to 3rd person narrative lol it rained that day, and chen(女侠 ..!!) subdues a criminal gang, rescuing a woman. the surprising part is that the leader wanted to fight to the end before a child suddenly appeared before him. at some point the rain stops and a rainbow appears, making the gangleader hesitant and eventually drops his weapon after (his son) says something to him. witnesses remark on how chen did not seem happy by this outcome, only pensively staring towards the east

honestly my first reaction was 'omg chen nuxia interrobang' and then 'wuh..??' bc it was so vague compared to what was essentially chatfic or w/e the term is lmao not much on the brain atm except:

hen module: looks toward lungmen swire module: im back

the kinoooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[tomicscomics]

08/18/2023

Eugh.  The less fortunate.  How gauche.

___

JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. The actual verses of the story go as follows: (21) Then Jesus went from that place and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. (22) And behold, a Canaanite woman of that district came and called out, “Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon.” (23) But he did not say a word in answer to her. His disciples came and asked him, “Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us.” 2. The full story is fascinating for many reasons.  This video offered an excellent analysis: https://youtu.be/61I7-WRrJxw 3. As for this cartoon, when Jesus's disciples complain about the desperate woman, He's left dumbfounded by their total lack of charity.  The disciples see Jesus's shock and disapproval and -- having no self-reflection skills -- assume He must be shocked and disapproving of the WOMAN, not them, hence John assuming Jesus's offense was triggered by something "she" (i.e. the woman) said.

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 27/27

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26, UPDATE

I debated which POV should I use for this. It was either Vaggie or Charlie.

But then I didn't think I was ready yet to dive into Charlie's inner thoughts after the events of the last chapter.

------------------------------------------

Satan: When the death of the King was announced to us yesterday morning,

Vaggie darted through the palace halls, her steps nearly floating as her wings fluttered slightly, reducing her weight. She could have flown, which would have been faster, but there was a strict rule against flying inside the palace to protect the many precious things that belonged to-

Satan: there struck a deep and somber note in our lives

Anyway, Charlie had banned any kind of flying altogether after a priceless vase was accidentally shattered.

Satan: which resounded far and wide.

As she zoomed past, the servant imps bowed and greeted her politely. She usually returned their greetings, a blend of kindness and a dash of guilt compelling her to do so. Despite the fact that none of the exorcists had killed any Hellborn during their exterminations, it didn't ease her conscience.

She wasn't Adam.

Satan: It stilled the clatter and traffic of all hellish life

Adam.

She wondered where he was now, after taking off with Lute and setting off the bomb that had essentially turned everything to shit, disappearing into the buildings of Pride.

Even she wasn't sure if Charlie could grant that kind of forgiveness.

Vaggie cursed at yet another empty room, soon finding herself at a dead end.

Her movements halted when she caught a glimpse of something flying past the window. She gripped her spear tighter.

Satan: and made countless millions of demon kind throughout the seven rings...

She must have looked pathetic because one of the butlers in the room (Azaeloth, Your Grace) took pity on her and pointed up.

Of course.

Satan: ...pause and look around them.

Vaggie thanked the imp before turning on her heels and heading toward the rooftop.

She probably opened the door a little harder than necessary, the heavy thud echoing in the quiet space, but Charlie didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, her expression remained unreadable against the backdrop of Hell's red sky.

Satan: The late King, who assumed the heavy burden of the crown when he was cast out of the Heavens,

The rooftop balcony overlooking all of Hell is one of the places Charlie often frequents when it all gets a bit too much. It ranks third only to the Hotel and a secret room whose location even Vaggie doesn't know.

Vaggie takes in the sight of Charlie, and it's the same thing she has been seeing for the last two years.

Tired.

Satan: lived through every minute of this struggle

The former exorcist stays by the door. Despite her earlier rush, she just waits. Waits. And waits.

She waits until Charlie releases a sigh and makes a motion with her hand, granting permission to come closer.

Not once does Charlie turn to look at her. The weight of the world seems to press down on her shoulders, gaze fixed on the landscape below.

Satan: with a heart that have faltered but a spirit never broken.

They were still together, and Vaggie liked to think that their love was as strong as ever.

But ever since—

Ever since then, an invisible wall had manifested itself between them. And she understood, really she did. It didn't make it hurt any less.

Vaggie missed the old Charlie.

Satan: In the end, death came as a friend.

Vaggie: Hey.

Vaggie greets Charlie, moving to stand beside her to overlook Pride. The Ring doesn’t look as good as it did back then, but everything was fixed relatively quickly, thanks to their experience with turf wars and the destruction that came with them.

Charlie still doesn’t look at her, but there’s a twitch in her clasped hands.

Satan: And after a gruesome battle of bloodshed,

Vaggie bites the inside of her cheek at the stillness of the moment.

Vaggie: How long have you been here? You'll catch something in this cold.

Cold. Hell is cold.

And it's not right.

Oh if the humans who keep saying 'when Hell freezes over' could see it now.

Satan: and after a sacrifice for those who look up to him,

Charlie: I'm fine, Vaggie. Is something wrong?

Yes! Vaggie wants to yell at her. Yes, of course there's something wrong! Their home is wrong. Their whole life is wrong!

But she can't. God knows they've had that conversation too many times before. It always ended ugly.

Satan: he fell asleep,

So she stills herself and chooses her words carefully.

Vaggie: No-uh, not at the moment. But I got word from Angel that it looks like they caught a few intruders south of the Pentagram. They wouldn't tell me anything yet but..

Charlie finally turns her head to her, a raised eyebrow prompting Vaggie to continue.

Vaggie: I caught a glimpse of a feather and I have a pretty good guess it's the same reason why they are being as discreet as possible.

Satan: as every soul, human or demon, who strives to be free and nothing else in the world, may hope to do.

Angels.

After Him-

It was a massacre, and she participated in the exterminations. She knows what killings look like, but what she witnessed then still makes her stomach twist with discomfort to this day.

Only a few managed to escape to Heaven, while some opted to hide deep underground in Pride, afraid and perhaps forgotten.

Those brave enough to venture outside went straight to the palace or hotel, hoping to find a way back to Heaven.

Satan: Now, we must leave the treasures of the past and turn to the future.

But there is no more Heaven.

Satan: Resilience have been the reigns of the late Majesty.

At least, that's what they think. No rescue missions, no communication, no nothing.

Heaven has been silent, and the only indication they have of its still-beating existence is the glowing white sphere up in the far sky.

That's why angels still take the risk to go to them.

Satan: All of the greatest periods in our history unfolded upon his hands .

But none of them ever make it.

Satan: This new age comes at a time when demonkind stands uncertainly poised..

Charlie: I see.

At the corner of her eye, Vaggie sees the flying figure circle around the city again like a dog guarding their home.

Like a predator looking for its prey.

She reaches out to take Charlie's hand, squeezing it for comfort. For her or for Charlie she's not sure.

Vaggie: Let's go inside. I don't like being outside with that... thing.

Satan: …on the age of catastrophe.

Charlie eyes the flying entity with an expression of cold, hard anger mixed with devastation. The look is gone as soon as it came.

Vaggie would have that look too if it had the face of her dead father.

Satan: I, whose existence was passed in the noble, unchallenged, and tranquil glories of the Luciferian era

She gave Charlie another squeeze but the other doesn't reciprocate.

Vaggie feels like Charlie's slipping from her hold. Her hand tightens just a bit more around her lover's, afraid that if she loosens then Charlie would be gone.

And she can't let that happen.

Satan: may well feel the thrill in invoking once more,

Charlie, who no longer shies away from judgemental eyes.

Satan: the prayer,

Charlie, who stands straight and tall, like a beacon of demon hope.

Satan: and the anthem;

Who looks too small in her royal mantle.

Satan: Long live Charlotte Morningstar,

Who looks imposing as the original Devil with the crown sitting on her head.

Satan: Her Majesty,

Her former self tucked far away inside.

There's a screech of a car down below and a cacophony of distressed voices.

Charlie: They're here.

Satan: The Queen of Hell.

Charlie: Let's go.

------------------------------------------

Lucifer is truly dead here guys. Or is he? 👀

The Crown reference.

The Satan parts is the speech said at Charlie's coronation. Just like in The Crown, she became queen as soon as the former King died.

Fates of Alastor, the Sins, and the others will be addressed in Story 3 of this series!

Yes you read that right. There will be one more story for this. And it will still be Lucifer centric, but the POVs will bounce from character to character.

A trilogy! Wow, I can't believe this.

Thank you all for reading! To those who have supported this story from the very beginning, you were all my motivation and inspiration. I love hearing your theories, your critiques, and your fanarts.

And if you have any questions, my asks and DMs are open! I'd be happy to answer anything to the best of my abilities without spoiler <3

This work is my pride and joy and you guys loving it made me even more proud of myself.

So thank you.

This story is dedicated to the me that couldn't find the fanfic I'm looking for and said fuck it I'll do it myself. And of course, to our dear Lucifer Morningstar.

[mrs-incognito1]

more GHOST PLEAAAAASEEEEE

11:23 PM - “C’mon, sergeant…use me.”

Warnings - unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), female reader.

Slight context - he’s supposed to be comforting the reader after a mission gone wrong.

I take requests :)

———————————————————————-

A frustrated huff heaves Y/N’s chest, a single tear glistening across her cheek like a snail trail accompanied by repressed sobs as Ghost’s thumb rubs slow circles onto the exposed skin of her hips. Her thighs were either side of his lap, straddling him whilst her arms hung around his shoulders, pulling him as close as he will allow himself to be.

She was clad in nothing but her panties and a T-shirt, her other articles of clothing, abandoned on Ghost’s bedroom floor, where they had been a mere few days ago. “What d’you want?” He questions, his eyes staring down the barrel of her pupils, “What d’you need?” He rephrases the question for her, pulling her closer to his chest, knowing fully what she came for.

Y/N’s left hand pulls away from his shoulder to dry her flushed cheeks on the back of her hand, sniffing slightly as she does so, before meeting his intense gaze once again.“I need you to make me feel better.” She replies. Bold. Very bold, her eyes widen slightly at her attitude, had she have payed more attention, she would’ve noticed the shift in Ghost’s gaze as shifts slightly from beneath her.

“C’mon, sergeant,” he whispers between the two of them, “Use me.” He instructs, leaning back slightly, the muscles in his torso flex through his shirt, giving her access to his trousers. Y/N wastes no time fumbling with his belt buckle, the skin of her finger catching slightly on the latch, cursing under breath, before making an effort to pull his briefs down as far possible, only to get them as far as his middle thigh.

His cock slaps against his clothed torso and a small stream of translucent pre cum runs along his shaft, his flushed tip glistens in the dim light of the room, twitching in arousal. Y/N’s palm comes to wrap around him, pumping him slowly, Ghost watches with hooded eyes, his grip on her waist tightening with anticipation.

She pulls her underwear to the side - impatient, desperate, perhaps - before sitting down and taking him fully, her head lulls back at the familiar stretch of his dick protruding her pussy, the impressive ridges of his cock rubbing her deliciously. He groans lowly, remaining in the same position as before, sitting back, appearing as unbothered as possible, observing the way she moves.

Her hips sway with no particular rhythm, rough and needy, both of her arms outstretched in front of her, pulling at the hem of Ghost’s t-shirt for any stability she could muster. His cock twitches torturously from inside her as he watches her pathetic attempts to get off, almost pitying her, he sits forward slightly before pulling her flush to his chest.

He pulls her hands away from his torso, wrapping them around his shoulders once again as she secures his own arms around her waist, restricting her breath ever so slightly. He steadies Y/N’s uneven thrusts before bucking his own hips to meet hers, the flesh of his pelvis grazing her clit perfectly.

“Ghost-.” Her breath hitches at the feeling of his nails grazing into the flesh of her hips, five pink crescents ingraining in her skin on either side. “M’close.” He utters, breath fanning over her face as his forehead begins to slick with bitter sweat. Y/N moans in response, head nodding eagerly as she feels her own orgasm approaching, overwhelmed by the erotic sounds of slapping skin and the sinful scent of sex that now hangs heavy in the atmosphere.

She grinds her hips, meeting Ghosts thrusts as best she can, despite his momentum having the upper hand. Her clit grazes his pelvis one last tantalising time as her cunt clenches around him, thighs instinctively bucking under the waves of pleasure, her head falls back as she rides out her orgasm with nothing but visions of Ghost. “Shit.” He says, the feeling of her walls closing around him has his mind fogged as he remains in her cunt, pumping his cum into her pulsing pussy, his head leaning forwards to rest against her shoulder, before his fingers smooth over the previous marks made in the skin of her hip.

He heaves a long breath and leaves a small kiss on her shoulder, before asking, “Better?”.

[skaruresonic]

https://www.tumblr.com/skaruresonic/758528409170313216/yes-woolie-you-can-win-any-argument-if-you-just

I want to point this it. The person defending the comic unknowingly completely eradicated any ground their argument could have stood on.

"Criminals don't deserve to be free if they're gonna hurt people"

Then why does IDW Sonic keep letting his villains run off scott free when he himself acknowledges that they're gonna continue being evil and hurting innocents?

The single real and true answer is that this comic has abysmal writing. But stans don't want to accept that. They'd rather make up increasingly baffling conspiracy theories.

Exactly. It gets even worse when you realize Sonic presents himself as an arbiter of freedom: he wants people to do what they want, as long as it's the "right choice."

He is the one who decides what is right. He may not explicitly come right out and say so, but that is what he says through his words and his actions. And rather than accept the notion that some people will choose something other than what he wants, he'll punish you by chewing you out or beating you up, despite any mitigating circumstances, such as Surge's abuse at Starline's hands or Metal Sonic and Eggman TELLING HIM THE KILLER ROBOT HAS NO FREE WILL.

The only thing more dangerous than an authoritarian is an authoritarian who's a fucking idiot.

That may or may not be the comic's intention, but that's what ends up being the takeaway when we're given these lengthy lectures about the supposed sanctity of freedom, only for Sonic to betray his own principles.

He doesn't give a shit about anyone's pain. That much is clear.

He leverages Shadow's trauma against him to win an argument.

He ignores how Espio is grieving the loss of his friends to obnoxiously argue "oh so we should murder everyone, huh, Espio? is that what you're saying? we should never give anyone a chance?"

He makes fun of Belle at several points and even looks annoyed when she's angsting about her situation in one instance.

He claims he'd be willing to give "even [Eggman and Starline]" a second chance, only to eulogize Starline with "big oof."

He ignores Surge's pain just to say he'll kick her ass, then eulogizes her with a line so cold you'd think it came out of Eggman's mouth.

He shuts down Tails' misgivings about Metal's release not once but twice.

He drops the "Surge is dead" bomb on Kit without any real tact or follow-through to make sure the traumatized child is okay.

He tells Kit that Surge is "hurting herself."

Yet he throws a fucking pity party for himself in issue 23 about how Eggman "makes him pay" for daring to believe in the "good in people" every day.

Cry me a river. Kick rocks. Get bent.

IDW!Sonic lacks the emotional intelligence to distinguish when someone in pain is lashing out vs. a bona fide unrepentant asshole killing people for fun.

To him, both are the same errant children in need of a paddling. Just as he'd lack the pragmatism to seal the Erazor Djinn in the lamp because muh freedom, he'd lack the empathy to comfort Shahra afterward.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pairing(s):Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Jacob Black x Witch!OC

Warnings: none

Words: 2764

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23   Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28 Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 39

Leah looks at the screen of her phone. Even after all this time, seeing Sam's name lit up on her phone makes her stomach drop. Her finger hovering over the green answer button. She didn't want to talk to him, especially when Dieufel was still over at his house. But in the end, Sam was her alpha.

Jacob leans over to snoop. They'd been hanging out a lot more, bonding through the fact that both of them imprinted on witches. "He's gonna keep calling if you don't answer."

Groaning, she pinches the bridge of her nose and leans back against the raggedy couch that was in the Black garage. "I know. But the moment I switch to my wolf, everyone will know. Ugh, I just don't want to hear anymore of their pity. I got enough of it with the whole Sam and Emily ordeal. Even more when my dad died."

"I don't think it's pity. More like sympathy because we can feel your pain through the pack telepathy." He tries to explain. Then his own phone started to ring. He raises an eyebrow and turns from Leah for a moment. "It's (y/n)." They hadn't spoken to one another since she told Bella about him imprinting on Evita. In retrospect maybe he should have told Bella. They were friends after all, right? She should be happy for him that he'd found his destined mate.

He decides to answer, knowing that there could only be two reasons why you were calling: to apologize or something bad has happened. But the voice on the other end wasn't that of his friend's. It was Edward who started talking. His speech broken up by the sound of rushing wind. Jacob presses the phone closer to his ear. "What's going on?"

Edward raises the volume of his voice. "Irina is heading your way!"

"What?" Jacob still didn't understand what Edward meant. Irina? The issue with the Denali clan had been taken care of. Or, at least that's what Jacob surmised when (y/n) came back alive. Uncertainly he looks to Leah. "He's saying something about Irina coming here."

The call cuts off.

Leah's on her feet and pulling her tank top over her head. "It's a warning idiot."

Her skin ripples, breaking apart into fur and pure muscle. Limbs elongate and form into ginormous paws with bayonets for claws.

Jacob didn't have the opportunity to shift into his wolf. Standing in the opening of his garage was a woman with pitch black eyes staring at them. Her long, platinum blonde hair tumbled down over her shoulders. By the paleness of her complexion, she could only be Irina.

Leah bares her fangs, the gray fur that ran along her back was raised in agitation. Irina glances at Leah, eyes unblinking. "Such an unsightly creature you are. This is what killed Laurent. . .What the Cullens are protecting. I have all rights to kill you."

He notices the slight flair of her nostrils taking in their scent. Also to see if they were afraid of her presence. Jacob takes trained, slow breaths to lower the increasing beating of his heart. His tongue sticks to the roof of his dry mouth.

Irina's lips curls in a distasteful snarl. "Filthy animals." The hatred she has toward them reeks. Leah's snout crinkles at the scent.

Time moves fast. The moment Irina leaps for Jacob has Leah simultaneously leaping over Jacob's car to get to the vampire. They take a tumble, causing a massive hole in the weak, old wood of the garage. Jacob takes the distraction to shift and there's a fury of snapping jaws when (y/n)'s wolf breaks past the lining of trees, Evita, Dieufel and Edward on her back.

"Irina! Stop!" Edward shouts from atop of (y/n)'s back. He launches himself easily off and into the bramble of vampire fangs and wolf snouts. He grabs Leah by the scruff to stop her and tries to peel Irina away. Irina may as well have been another animal as she gnashed her teeth, trying to get a bite of Leah. Jacob and (y/n) stood on the outside, hesitant to intervene lest you risk harming any of them.

Evita digs out from the bag hanging from her hip something that fell like sand through her fingers as she thrust it into the ball of tangled limbs and teeth. After she mutters a few words, the reaction is near instantaneous, a sudden volt of energy that expel the vampires away from Leah. Leah manages to stay on her feet through the sheer will of her claws in the earth. Irina and Edward slide off to the other side. Finally Edward had an opening to fully get ahold of her.

In her craze, Irina launches her upper body forward as Edward maneuvers her into a secure leg lock. "Now Dieufel!"

Both he and Evita speed over to where Irina and Edward struggle on the ground, eyes focused and hands gracefully weaving intricate patterns in the air while Evita is making a large circle around Edward and Irina. His lips move without any sound coming from them. Citrus smell accompanies his use of magic, like with Evita. Everyone could smell the spell swirling in the air. Irina glares daggers at him the entire time all while trying to free herself from Edward's hold. Around the two vampires, the atmosphere seems to crackle. Leah's ears press flat against her skull at the sensation of each strand of fur is standing at attention. Everyone misses the trickling presence of the others in the pack. They remain at the border of trees and open space but ready to pounce if aid was required.

Dieufel continues his chanting and once Evita has made symbols in the dirt with her finger, the circle glows faintly.

"Edward, let go of Irina as fast as you can and grab my hand." Evita instructs him. His bronze head nods in understanding. In a blink of an eye, he unlatches himself from Irina and is being pulled out of the ring by Evita.

Irina surges to follow but appears to slam face first into an invisible wall. Spinning on her heel and near frothing at the mouth, she moves in Dieufel's direction but is met by the same forcefield. They simply have a stare down. Dieufel is unimpressed by her. He actually looks a bit bored with Irina as he spits out the simple command "Sleep."

Her defiance wavered as an unexpected weariness washed over her. She staggers back a few steps before her eyes droop closed and her body crumples to the ground.

"She didn't get you with her teeth, did she?"Jacob sniffs Leah, (y/n) right beside him casting anxious glances between Leah and Irina. With the threat being neutralized, the others of the pack begin to take steps forward. All are hesitant to believe that Irina is actually unconscious. Her platinum blonde hair spills all around her head. Eyes closed.

"I'm fine."She cedes with a partial snarl. She wasn't concerned about herself. Not in a moment like this where everyone had access to her thoughts and memories now. Even though Irina is down, her adrenaline is still spiked. Instead she finds herself backing away from everyone. Doing her best to put a lockdown on her mind. But there was only so much she could do in retaliation.

Seth's gold eyes were rounded once the information from Leah's psyche seeps in. In the pack, nothing was private or sacred. "Leah, why didn't you tell me you imprinted?"He was hurt. He'd always proven to be his sister's number one advocate.

An issue to be addressed later. Sam circles around Irina, mentally snapping at Seth "Save it. We have bigger things."That couldn't be argued.

Edward reaches under Irina and easily lifts her up and addresses Sam "Your's or mine?"

"Your's. I don't want her anywhere near Emily."He resists the urge to growl toward the comatose vampire. His guard would not be lowered. Not if it potentially meant risking Emily's safety.

"I can't believe she's still asleep." Kate murmurs while sadly gazing down at her sister. With a loving hand, she smoothes down stray strands of her sleek and silky mane of hair, so pale and reflective that it almost appears to have a metallic sheen. It was only a matter of hours before the Denali coven showed up at the home. They gave the wolves a wide berth when they first arrived. Quite different from when they'd met you. Uncomfortable probably due to the fact that they were outnumbered and the members of the pack present preferred to stay in their fur around the Denalis.

Keeping a strict vigil on her was Dieufel. Making sure that Irina did not awaken before they deemed it appropriate. Tanya casts nervous eyes at him. Unnerved by his scent and presence. An oddity to the hermit-like vampires. He needed to monitor the spell that was cast on her at all times. Never before had it been used against an immortal. "She will only awaken when I give the command." Dark eyes clash against gold. While Dieufel could be a charmer, you noticed he had the ability to appear just as fierce. His accent seemed to come out more too.

He wanted the Denalis to know that he was not one to be messed with. The message was clear as Tanya flicks her gaze back to her sister frozen in place on the couch. "Thank you. She is. . . unpredictable right now and can't be trusted. This is for the best." Her throat constricts, choking her words with emotion. "I'm sorry we failed to keep her contained."

Esme speaks to Carmen in the corner along with Eleazar. It's Edward who poses the question to Tanya and a quiet Sam "Any ideas what to do with her?"

"We can't awaken her. That much is sure." Tanya admits.

You hear their conversation from the front foyer, waiting outside of the living room with Evita, Jacob and Leah. No one said a thing, especially Jacob and Leah who merely focus on their bare feet. At least the Cullens had offered them robes while they were there. How many other times have the Cullens lent clothes to your naked pack members? Your own was so soft that you kept pinching the fabric of the sleeve.

The matter of Irina didn't involve any of you. There'd be no point to stay but to listen in on the jurisdiction. Your feet refused to move despite your brain sending your leg muscles signals. Adrenaline still spiked in your veins. Even worse were the nerves that wracked through you from being with Jacob and Leah. Another wolf imprinting on a witch. The elders said that one of the theories of imprinting was that it chose the best mate for you that would give one strong offspring. This was starting to appear to be true from what you've noticed. You imprinted on Edward, a vampire gifted with a special ability; Jacob with Evita who had magic in her blood as did Dieufel. Any child from Evita or Dieufel would prove to be strong and have an advantage over anyone else. Whatever child you have with Edward-

You stop yourself right there when you realize the blush that was heating your face just from thinking about it. Too young to be thinking about having kids with someone you just started dating. There hadn't even been an actual date yet, not with all the chaos that was going on.

A warm hands beckons you. Evita is regarding you, worry plain on her face. "Are you tired? We should go back to Sam's. I'm sure they have everything handled in there. Dieufel doesn't require my assistance."

Catching Jacob's reaction to her voice in your peripheral, you bite the inside of your mouth. Leah imprinted on Dieufel, the young man in the next door room. Evita's friend. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"We can steal some of Dieufel's herbal smokes." She whispers to you in a conspiring manner, a devious grin to follow.

"Sure, I can hack up my other lung." Laughing in unison, you and Evita discreetly enter the sitting room causing eyes to descend on you. "Evita I are heading back. Unless you guys need anything else?"

Sam pulls away from the huddled group around the couch. "No, you guys can go. But before that, I need a quick word with (y/n)."

You nod, aware that it might have something to do with the imprinting mess that still awaited to be acknowledged. Sam leads you to the farthest wall of the living room though it would do little help with preventing the vampires from listening in. Thankfully Dieufel's attention is focused on Irina.

Your pack alpha leans closer to your ear "Can you keep an eye on Jacob and Leah? I feel bad asking this of you but I need to stay here." He sounds pained that he has to be present in case anything happened with Irina. "Dieufel will probably stay here with us just to monitor. That should make things easier for Leah, but Jake-"

Not wanting him to finish that thought, you touch his beefy bicep. "I know. If he wasn't privy to telling Bella though I doubt he'll be blurting it out to Evita." Jacob hadn't said a word to you since apprehending Irina. He was still mad at you which would make keeping him in line a bit tricky. He hadn't even so much as looked at you the entire time all four of you were waiting out in the hall. Did he really think you may blurt it out to Evita herself like you did with Bella? Sam instructed that it was best for the witches not to know about imprinting right now. There was too much to do. Too much at stake. A good outcome heavily relied on the witches.

Back out in the hallway, Evita was waiting patiently. You turn to the other two. "Sam wants you guys to go back with us. We're not really needed here."

Jacob and Leah exchange a glance. They would rather stay in the house of the bloodsuckers than return to La Push. Leah shifts against the wall. "Is that leech really out cold?"

"So far so good. Dieufel's spell seems to be working." You regret saying his name in front of Leah as you notice the slight flinch in her eyes. Immediately you see Leah's fortified wall of isolation go up. This must have been so hard for her to deal with. You didn't want to push for details, not from Leah. She wouldn't give them to you anyway. "Even if something happens with the spell, there's eight vampires in there alongside him. They won't let her get out."

"That's what we thought the first time." Ruefully hisses Leah. "Her own coven wasn't even able to stop her from escaping."

Evita bristles. "Dieufel's spell will not let you down. As long as he wills it, she will remain asleep." You hadn't seen this fiery expression on your new friend before. "His magic is strong."

Subtly, Jacob nudges Leah in the side with his elbow. They share another look of a silent argument being waged. Acceding, Leah takes a step back both physically and mentally as she murmurs out an apology which was enough to settle down Evita. She must have seen Dieufel as family considering how close the older boy had been to her sister Leti. The way Leah phrased her words must have come out as an insult in Evita's ears. Sometimes Leah didn't filter what she said. Doesn't think of the consequences that could from what she says. Her bluntness could be off putting but you and the pack were used to it by now. Evita was not. **

Atop of Washington's many ridged mountains stood Demetri and Felix.

While Jane may have been happing about the outcome of the newborn army uprising, Felix was not. He'd smelled something. . . off about the area they'd been standing in. Jane hadn't picked up on anything, excited as she was by the carnage of the destroyed newborns.

What the others in the small town of Forks and La Push didn't know was that Irina had already passed information onto the Volturi about something concerning that they should investigate. They'd come across Irina just as they entered the Washington state border.

"Do you think these are the same wolves that Caius ordered destroyed centuries ago?" Felix asks his companion.

"We'll find out soon enough."

TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch​  , @dangerouslittlefairy​ , @burn-crash-rqmance​ , @casedoina , @avadakadabra93 , @daryldixonstorm , @blue-aconite​ , @xanniestired666 , @esposadomd​, @godinho11​ , @alexizodd​ , @melaninsugarbaby​ , @lyeatoalinatoheaven , @ronwownsme​ , @itsmytimetoodream​ , @afro-hispwriter​ , @mutandis-extremis993 , @hxgemxscles​ , @nightly-polaris​ , @corrodedcoffins-slut , @ellesalazar​ , @itgetzweird08​ , @crybabyatthediscooffandoms​ , @sassyandclassyx​ , @scarlet2007​ , @theroyalbrownbarbie​ , @jennyamanda8​ , @stevenandmarcslove​ , @biancaindaeyo​ , @loversjoy​ , @turningtoclown​ , @vixorell​ , @xxthackerybinxxx , @daredevilonmyheels​ , @dumbbitch-juicee​ , @southern-bell-give-hell , @nat-the-gemini , @imdoingathingmom​ , @emmettcullenswife , @yoong1c0re , @daddykylokenobi​ , @minjix​ , @magical-spit​ , @krismdavis​ , @arin-swear-rose

[hhighkey]

Decode // Chapter Seven, Sweet Nothings

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Masterlist

-

As thunder rumbled through the island, rain pelted the roofs of the city’s buildings with such force it sounded like a hail storm. Distant jolts of lightning lit up the sky in a dance of fraught intensity between each quickly occuring strike. A sweet yet pungent odor of petrichor wafted through the air as the rain disturbed the ground, the trees, the odoriferous molecules that encapsulated everything that made up the sleeping city.

But one stirred amongst the early hours, before dawn could break through the dark clouds. Sabine flinched in her sleep, a whimper left her lips, brows furrowed as her dream caused her restlessness. Sweat beaded along her hairline as a more complete cry came passed her lips, legs beginning to quiver under the quilt that did little to release the overwhelming heat she absorbed in.

As if one with a flash of lightning, Sabine awoke with a gasp as the sky glitter a blinding white. Hand over her heart as she heaved, glancing along what her eyes could make out in the dark. Her fingers ran along her skin, felt the fabric of her night gown, pinched at her legs just to make sure she was truly awake. To feel that she was present in this moment surrounded by the dense pattering of raindrops that sounded like an onslaught against the window panes. 

Overwhelmed with the memories of her nightmare, choking from the heat that consumed her, she flung herself out of bed racing to the bathroom. She flinched at the sound of the door slamming but couldn’t be bothered. Crumbling to a heap on the tile floor she mewled at the coolness against her reddened skin. Splaying her palms flat, Sabine let her tears flow freely as she felt everything. The tightening of her chest in anxiety as her heart thumped wildly. The mixing temperatures of her body made her go lightheaded. And the pounding behind her temple from the pathetic tears she couldn’t stop. 

Her cries woke him instantly from the daze his body had been in the second she went to the bathroom. A worried demeanor along his features, stomach twisting at the thought of her pain. Mihawk was attuned to her now; Every breath, step, or quirk he’d memorized and could acquaint them with an emotion. How she cracked her knuckles when bored, shoved a fingernail behind another to cause pain when stressed, or how her cheeks would grow pink when embarrassed. But it didn’t stop him from second guessing how to react to each emotion she cycled through, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or pry too hard. 

The sound of her sobs made him feel like he was being gutted from the inside out. Like a knife pierced his chest, twisting and slicing him open so he knew he couldn’t stay pliant on his cot.

A sharp knock against the door dragged Sabine back to reality of the bathroom floor where her tears welled into mini pools. 

“Sabine.”

Oh no no, she panicked. He couldn’t see her like this! She thought she was quick to barricade herself into the bathroom so he couldn’t hear her. But she guessed nothing ever got past him. 

“May I come in?” Mihawk’s drowsy voice spoke again.

‘No’ sat on the tip of her tongue out of embarrassment, but more than anything did she want him by her side. 

“Yes.” She eventually croaked out, resituating herself on the floor so she sat against one of the walls. Wiping at her face, she knew she must look ridiculous and ugly. 

Mihawk said nothing of how she looked, nor did she see any pity in his eyes. He simply took the empty space beside her against the bathroom wall, his much bigger form causing her to squish into him. His warmth was different that the suffocating one she woke up with, his was inviting and comforting and she subconsciously moved closer. 

They sat there in silence for a bit. Sabine wasn’t sure exactly how long, but one of his hands took one of hers into it and his thumb dragged along her skin. The monotonous motion grounded her as she focused on the pleasant electricity that shot up her arm from his touch. How it was a light in the darkness that currently surrounded her. 

“Mihawk.. I’m sorry, I woke you.” Sabine sniffled. The only place she couldn’t bring herself to look was his eyes, perhaps scared what she’d see. No one at the Monastery would speak it, but she knew her night terrors annoyed them more than anything. An inconvenience. And Sabine couldn’t fathom being one to him. 

“Don’t apologize my dear, I don’t mind. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Nightmare?”

“Mhmm, guess you and the hotel guests are lucky I haven’t shrieked like a damn banshee yet.” A joking tone passed her lips with a huff and that frankly surprised her. It would take her hours to come down from these nighttime episodes. Especially since it’d been weeks since she had a proper one even without the screaming. 

His lips quirked up as he stared straight at the sink, “I suppose we are.”

It felt bold to move even closer, to try to force herself into Mihawk’s hold. But for some reason she did so, nuzzled her head into his shirt as if she were a child needing comfort. Her actions with him were awkward and uncertain, her lack of experience and sheltered nature rather apparent. The scent of soapy rose water that swirled in the bathroom from all her constant soaks, seeped up into her head. She tried to focus on that instead of the gloom that threatened to spill out again. 

When Mihawk shifted her so she lounged in his lap, head in the crook of his neck, she thought she’d simply pass out. Her hairs stood straight up on her body as tingling contentment spread throughout her. Mind racing, yet racing because of his musk and his touch and not the dark figure from her dreams. 

“You’re safe here,” Mihawk whispered into her hair, “At least with me you are. While dreams may terrorize us, they don’t follow us into the real world once we wake up.”

She nodded.

“Would you like to talk about it?” 

“Maybe.”

“Take your time.” 

Squeezing her eyes shut as she buried her face deeper into him as if she could disappear, inhaling his natural masculine scent that was truly intoxicating to her. There were thoughts at the forefront of her mind she wanted to spew, and maybe now from her heightened pulse and stress riddled body she’d be able to say them. In this moment of vulnerability she felt doubt and anger, a mix of regret and melancholy. She had no idea how to wade through it, her body simply wanted to thrash and scream as its way to handle the boiling fervor within her. 

“I- Why me? Why sit here with me?” Her voice cracked, “Aren’t I pathetic? I’ve dragged you into a mess with no proof of my claims besides a newly dead person. Isn’t it all my fault? You must think I’m mental.”

“I don’t think of you as a crazy woman if that’s what you’re saying. Sure this work has been boring compared to being at sea, taking on pirates and doing the marine’s biddings. Can you imagine me scouring libraries for information on my foes?”

That made her spit out a laugh, surprised by the sudden thought of Mihawk having to find information from an archive rather than utilizing his sword against a foe. It was a good point he made that eased the clawing from within her ribs that he hated each day with her, in secret. 

“But I don’t mind,” He continued, “I didn’t expect to have time with you like this. Selfishly, I’m glad I get to be the one to assist you, that you thought of calling.” 

“We’ve learned a lot about each other, you’re still a mystery though, little up there in age,” A poor attempt at teasing, “And we don’t hate each other after sharing a space and I'm glad for that as well.”

“That is also true.” 

Mihawk wiped the tears along her cheekbone, a gentle look on his face as he carefully studied her. She looked just as beautiful as ever, even with splotchy red eyes and cheeks, with a sniffly nose that attempted to stop snot from running. The glassiness of her eyes told a story of deeper sadness in them, that there were still dangerous thoughts lingering inside. And Mihawk wanted all of it for himself to know, wanted to take any burden off of her as a man like him could never feel the weight of it. 

Delicate, so tiny and breakable, he thought of her time and time again. All he wanted was to wrap Sabine up from the evils that plagued her. Yet with odds stacked harshly against her as she waded through the waters at night unable to see, she still fought. Admirable, even if misguided from a desolate life of experience. 

“Mihawk.” Her voice back to that of on the verge of tears, “I can’t go back to my Monastery. I will die if I do, it’s sucking my soul dry.”

There were no proper words to say in response. Nothing besides a simple hum, to tell her he was listening and understood. He was not the person to give advice, to console her on such a personal matter she needed to solve herself. And it seemed she was surprised she said it, or maybe it was a surprise that she felt lighter. He saw it. How Sabine physically relaxed as if she shared a dark secret pent up for years, finally able to tell another. 

“I thought this life was what I wanted. But right now as I sit here with every bone in my body wanting to scream and hurt myself to feel something- I know I had to adapt. I had to want to be a nun or else I wouldn’t have survived.” Sabine sighed, “How can that be? Can there be Stockholm syndrome for a whole religion rather than a captor? A whole place? I’ve kept it in because to say such words is blasphemous yet I felt it while with Luffy everyday, the excitement to get out of bed and talk to others.”

Sabine faltered, tears fresh once again as she stared into his eyes, 

“I pushed it all down! Let time morph into one. I can barely recount time or know what year something took place! Isolated and going through the motions I was a shell and now I dread my sabbatical ending.”

Her body was like a furnace upon him, while goosebumps littered up her arms and legs, so Mihawk assumed it was him burning. A tight, clawing sensation within him that felt like he was being ripped open made its home in his chest. He knew he needed to keep his head on straight, best not to touch her anymore than the situation their bodies were in now. How she perched on his lap, he wanted to touch her body for himself to know she existed in this moment all for him. He wanted her to feel alright amidst her disheartening confession, which when had he ever wanted that for anyone?

“Ease my mind Sabine, tell me I’m not corrupting the thoughts that will need to make your decision at the end of this sabbatical. I am not religious, sometimes I say things that may be unfair to you, I cannot give good advice, I have to bite my tongue.”

“I told… I had to make myself a promise that I wouldn’t let you play a part in my decision. And you weren’t. But that was before I actually knew you, how can I not think of you? After what? Two weeks and how with each passing moment we grow closer! But I can promise you that nothing you say affects my beliefs, or would cause me to suddenly become faithless. I’ve had men come in and spew disgusting, hateful things at me that honestly- are probably true about the church, but it didn’t change my mind. I’m the only one who can affect my own beliefs, analyze and pick them apart. I let myself stifle things I never believed in as a child so I could survive, this sabbatical thrusted me from that dark blanket I was under. You affect my decisions because of the emotions I feel for you; nothing you say can make me leave the church if I knew I wanted to stay.”

Mihawk took one of her hands into his own, “It seems you have admitted much to yourself you could never say before, and I admire that, you shouldn’t discount the bravery it took. But let's get you back to bed my dear, rest and think on it all again when you’ve eaten and are properly awake.”

“Thank you, Mihawk.” She whispered as her head pulsed from sleep exhaustion and her tears, nodding at his words that brought her comfort. She liked how intently he listened, how he was mature about her outburst not making her feel childish or stupid. 

As Mihawk helped her weak form into her bed, she vowed to herself that tomorrow she’d tell him about the deacon. The one she thought was the man she’d love, only to be hellbent on destroying her. 

-

An apology was on the tip of her tongue, feeling heavy with shame and nerves as she attempted to steel herself. Replays of the early morning hours as she sat in tears in the bathroom while he consoled her, played over and over. Mortified. The only word that described the embarrassing turmoil of fluttering butterflies in her chest, how with each movement he made, her innards lurched. 

Sabine wanted him to see her better sides, as unreasonable as it was. Wanted to carefully craft what he saw so as not to see her as weak or disgusting. Yet this had all been a mess up until now. Incompetence swirled around her actions and ideas on how to fix this, how to fix this damn island, and what to do about her decision. Any facades she’d been able to build up or believe in were gone. 

She did not regret the things she said. She regretted how it all came out, sitting there in his arms crying with snot running down her face. How unladylike! Horrified with herself, convinced he hated her now, that he was judging her as they went on with their new morning routine.

“Mihawk.” Sabine finally said, a slight itch in her throat as she coughed in discomfort. They paired well in silence, it could be comfortable between them without needing conversation. 

“Hmm?”

“I-” She stopped for a second, “I apologize for last night, well technically earlier this morning.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Mihawk responded without missing a beat. 

“But I did- to burden you…”

“You’re no burden.” 

Frustration bubbled up into her chest and throat, unable to formulate the words to describe her feelings; it took all her strength to stop an involuntary fit that tried to come over her. She stood next to her bed, rocking on the balls of her feet as Mihawk sat at the window, a book in hand. But he closed it to focus on her, arms crossing along his broad chest. 

She pressed her palms into her brow, pushing to try to stifle the swirling thoughts and pain. Their age difference was noticeable to her as her responses to stress were to cry, shut down, barely speak in complete sentences! More embarrassment fueled her fire thinking how he must look down on her insecure childish behavior, even if she’d once prided herself on the elegance she carried. 

“I am struggling.” Her legs buckled and she fell to the bed, sighing as she slouched sitting on the edge of it, “I don’t want someone else to die, but I can’t stop thinking about the Monastery.”

“Can I ask- if your loyalty or faith in your religion and its teachings, or is it in the Monastery as you feel you owe it your life?”

For a second it didn’t register as her head cocked to the side, Sabine frowning as she replayed what he said again. Oh. 

“That’s… An interesting question, one I can’t answer right now, one I’ve never even considered.”

There were a plentiful number of women she loved back on the island, from her roommates whether present or past, to younger girls to mentor, to even the matriarchs that once scared her as a teenager. With peers her age she’d experienced growth with highs and lows of the isolation of dedicating yourself to the Father at an unusual age. And it was the older nuns that taught her how to cook, to sew, to plant gardens of herbs and vegetables, how to do basic numbers and understand complex texts. In a way, Sabine wasn’t there for the religion due to her own beliefs, but because life landed her there without a second thought. 

A cruel wave of nostalgia came over her as she recalled happier memories. But how much longer would they last upon her return now that she has experienced the world? Before, she’d been an isolated girl who never left her town or journeys were strictly supervised by religious leaders. She’d never be able to remain silent there now, to go with the flow simply because she knew no better. 

It made her sick to think about as a longing, an anger replaced those bittersweet feelings. A heavy unease settled in her stomach as a sour note took its place in her mouth. 

His heavy footsteps on the floorboards made her stomach lurch with excitement as her eyes followed him. Waiting. He sat beside her, the mattress dipping due to his larger size. 

“I mentioned a deacon in my note a few weeks ago, he’s why I got sent on the job last year per my head being in the clouds. Matriarch said that. This whole thing is turning into some sappy emotional journey,” She shook her head as amusement flittered through her words, “I want to tell you about him, how I think he started my disillusionment with the Father.”  

-

posted: july 29 2024

taglist : @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996 let me know if you wanna be added!

[sleepingdeath-light]

s/o who moved to the neighbourhood after a car crash ; wally

requested by ; anonymous (07/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; wally darling

outline ; “Could I get Wally x reader where reader moves into the neighborhood after a car accident, and the two become very close. One day Wally learns that reader's family is actually pretty rich but reader didn't want anyone treating them different because of it? Also Wally finds out around Christmas time as reader's parents wanna meet Wally for Christmas”

warning(s) ; references to injuries, references to a car crash, references to hospitalisation, but mostly fluff

you moving to the neighbourhood had been less of an active choice and more of a compromise with some of your more fretful family members

you’d wanted to maintain your independence after your car accident whilst you healed

they wanted you out of the busy city where it happened (and where you lived)

so rather than move back home and be pitied 24/7 by family, friends and staff, you just barely managed to convince them to let you move away to a smaller, more rural town

you had your little bungalow that gave you full freedom to move around with your mobility aids

everything and everyone was a stone’s throw away from everything else, so there weren’t any cars (in fact the only vehicle you’d seen was a unicycle in front of one of your neighbours’ houses)

it was completely isolated from everywhere else aside from a small gravel road which, being your typical country road, was very thin, very rarely used and you only really saw deliveries being dropped off to the local grocers and the post office

so maybe one or two cars a week tops and they never came anywhere near your little home

your family were appeased, you got to keep your independence, and as an added bonus you got to move into the quaintest little neighbourhood ever

everyone was so friendly and keen to get to know you that it threw you for a loop — having come from such a large city to somewhere where everybody knows everybody it was bound to happen

but you couldn’t say that you particularly minded

eddie, the postman, was always happy to stop by and chat as he went about his rounds in the morning — he was also happy to offer any assistance if a delivery happened to be a bit too heavy or large for you to carry in on your own

howdy, the grocer, always made sure that he had what you needed in stock — even preemptively ordering things like your medications and other things you needed for the upkeep of your health (e.g. new wrappings for injuries, oil if you’re using a wheelchair with a squeaky wheel, and so on)

julie, a particularly colourful neighbour, was always happy to stop by and make you feel beautiful even when you were too worn down to even really get out of bed — keeping materials and items on her that best suit your hair texture from the moment she starts randomly dropping by

frank, a neighbour who was particularly fond of butterflies, was someone you came to appreciate because he didn’t dance around your injury and accident — he’d ask you how you were feeling or drop off some books that might apply to your situation, but he never imposed himself on you too much

poppy, a bird who lived just down the street, was always happy to come to your aid during your bad days — stopping by without a peep of complaint and cooking and baking some food for you, always making sure that you’re taken care of even when you don’t have the energy

barnaby and sally, two more neighbours that live for performance and laughter, became the highlights of your days as they would always make a point to stop by and entertain you with whatever jokes or plays they thought of — becoming part of your routine by making you smile

and they did it all without you needing to ask because they all cared so deeply for one another and for you that it was never even a question about them taking care of you

of course they weren’t overbearing, but they did make sure that you were in good spirits and good health as you healed — keeping enough of an eye out to be able to step in when you weren’t able to step up for yourself

by carrying your deliveries inside, by keeping what you need in stock, by keeping your self confidence high, by keeping you well fed, by making you smile so wide your cheeks hurt and by making you laugh so hard you’re crying

but out of all of your neighbours, one stood out the most; a blue haired painter called wally darling

though you usually just called him ‘darling’ — because you could easily get away with the pet name and because you always got a curious look from him when you did it

wally was the first one to greet you when you moved in, offering to help you put your house back together and complimenting the art pieces you’d been gifted by friends and family

he’s a painter and can appreciate the fine arts, you see — and you appreciated how friendly and conversational he was because you very quickly started to feel at home

and by the time the rest of the town had stepped in to help you organise your belongings, everyone was smiling and laughing and joking and talking like old friends — you almost forgot that you’d known them for less than a day because of it all

it really was a team effort and you smile whenever you recall the utter chaos that was your first week in the neighbourhood

howdy with his four arms carrying a pile of boxes so high that he had to shuffle through your front door on his knees — peering around the stack to smile sheepishly and ask you where everything needed to go (which took you a few moments as you needed to pick your jaw up off of the floor)

julie guiding everyone around the bungalow with the precision of an air traffic controller, using two rolls of wallpaper to ensure that everyone could see her through the mess that was your home layout

eddie and frank carefully — carefully — carrying in your sofa and your bed and placing them according to your and julie’s instructions (and dropping them on poor frank’s foot… twice)

barnaby making good use of his height and strength to bring in the remainder of your furnishings, cracking plenty of jokes along the way that had you snorting and eddie making a victim of poor frank every time he laughed

poppy making good on her promise to keep things organised and ensuring that all of your utensils and trinkets and small things ended up in the right place — leaving the home more organised than you’d ever had it

sally helping move any left over boxes from the moving van to the house all the while making a performance of it — including an impromptu recital of a shakespearean monologue whilst holding a snow globe that had cracked during shipping

wally painting and glossing your walls and cabinets throughout this whole mess, occasionally popping his head back into the main room to poke fun at everyone or to ask how everything was going

all of you dipping your hands — or paws, or wing — in paint and slapping them against the wall just above your fireplace before writing your names in your best handwriting just beneath them

a permanent reminder of your hard work and the mess you made

a mess that was definitely preferable to the weeks you spent bedbound in the hospital after being injured, feeling so very isolated and bored in the aftermath of everything you’d been through

that week was also the start of your relationship — well, at least it was when the two of you started dancing around your feelings and finding excuses to spend time with each other

wally would frequently pop by your home with a new painting or sketch that he’d made for you — getting to the point where a good portion of your house was covered with his work

you’d spend hours talking on the phone — he’d be the first one you called whenever you felt particularly low

he was the only one you divulged the full details of your accident to — thankful that he didn’t pity you or question it beyond telling you to reach out if you needed anything

you’re the only one he shares his apples with (and who gets to see his abnormal way of eating)

you’ll go out on small picnics into a nearby field and he’ll help you get up and down from the blanket, not once making a fuss or batting an eye, instead focusing on more important things like eating and watching butterflies

butterflies like the ones you felt whenever he looked at you or touched you or smiled or laughed or —

needless to say you were head over heels — and since wally was as well, it took very little time for the two of you to become an item

(with plenty of encouragement from your neighbours who were, by now, more than done with both of you tiptoeing around the obvious)

it’s safe to say that he thinks you’re the absolute most

and when the holidays come around and your family, who you haven’t really thought about beyond the occasional letter or phone call, want to stop by and visit, wally is happy to play host

he insists on going the full nine yards but compromises with you that you’ll host at your home and you’ll share the duties of decorating, cleaning and cooking

which quickly become more playful than dull because it’s you two so of course they do

and come the day of, you’re both completely prepared — even if your poor boyfriend is quietly sweating bullets and a mixture of excitement and anxiety as they pull up

and then you realise that you forgot to warn wally about your family

but it’s far too late for that as they’re already at the door and you’re already greeting them — and oh god there’s that antique necklace and that designer handbag and she’s giving his colourful outfit a strange look and wally’s noticed and he’s looking at you and oh dear…

thankfully he’s able to hide his surprise well (has his expression ever changed from that smile?) and as your folks fawn over you and your home and they bring in all of the gifts you’re only given enough time to shrug and smile apologetically before you’re both whisked away to play host

thankfully your boyfriend is an excellent public speaker and is able to charm your family enough to keep them entertained and cooperative (and stop them from invading your personal space and infantilising you) as he serves everyone the meal you’d prepared

by the time he’s sat down beside you and you’re all digging in to the feast you’d made, you’re able to relax because your relatives all clearly adore him

they ask him about the neighbourhood and his job and your relationship — all of which he answers tactfully and politely before moving on with questions of his own

and when the time comes to open your presents (including some generic gifts they’d bought wally as a measure of politeness), your fear of being perceived differently has practically faded away

you’re sat on the sofa, he’s holding your hand in his own, and your family are bickering amongst themselves amongst an ocean of wrapping paper and presents worth half a mortgage but it feels like home — and whilst he does give you a bit of a funny look, he assures you quietly that he gets it

he just would have appreciated a bit of fair warning about it — which is understandable

and you don’t know why you ever doubted your silly little blue haired boyfriend for a moment

he really is the absolute most

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Not Warriors

[seokjin x reader] [1.4k+ lovers to strangers; breakup!au; angst, smut]

Now That We Don't Talk | Not In The Same Way | High

There's nothing left to miss Except the shots I take and phone calls from you

-

You have been glued to your bed, watching reruns of FRIENDS and overstuffing your face with low-fat soy ice cream. You were allowed to wallow, but you had a red carpet to attend in a couple of weeks.

You feel miserable, but you can't look it, so says your manager. She already had a fit when she saw the dark circles under your eyes—courtesy of losing sleep at night and crying like a river by day.

And so, you make amends by finally doing something active. Walking on the treadmill, your hand balances a pint of ice cream and the other finally turns on your phone.

It's been a week since you've turned off your phone, two since your bar brawl scandal blew up on social media, and three since you and Seokjin broke up.

The first thing you see is the bold 23 encircled in glaring red on the message bubble icon. Thinking nothing of it, probably spam messages, you open the app only to be greeted by messages from close friends and families—all with the same question, but in different tones: are you okay?

You almost burst into tears again.

You didn't think this would be you—a living cliché of a heartbroken woman in her late 20s, cutting people off all because of one guy.

But Seokjin isn't some guy.

For a time, you believed he was the one. Despite hiding from the spotlight and keeping your relationship on the down-low, the moments you shared together were genuine and wholly yours.

Until they weren't, of course.

Stardom had its price. One canceled dinner turned to two until it wasn't just dinner he was missing, but special shared occasions you once celebrated were forgotten, too.

As he gained attention, more people wanted his company. You were no longer a priority and you never dared to use that against him. Hard as it was, you understood that his time wasn't entirely yours. Hell, he missed lunch dates with his mother, too. But what broke your heart was finding out it wasn't just his time you shared with other people, but his devotion, too.

Your phone ringing breaks you out of your stupor. Blinking your tears away, you see Seokjin's name on your screen.

You freeze. And so do your legs that were walking on autopilot. The next thing you feel is your body hitting your gym floor—phone screen cracked and the pint of ice cream rolling beside you.

-

This is bad. Oh, so bad.

You'll surely get in trouble if your manager finds out where you are.

And who you are waiting for.

You were supposed to visit your doctor after falling ungracefully from the treadmill earlier, instead you rushed to buy a new phone and waited for Seokjin to ring again.

The familiarity makes you sad and laugh in pity. You waited for Seokjin a lot. You waited for the perfect time to reveal your relationship, waited for him to remember your anniversaries and dates and come home, and you waited for him as he lived out his celebrity life with the hope he would remember the life he has with you.

You had a reason to wait for him then. And here you are again. Waiting.

You hear a patterned knock—one that you know so well. It's something you and Seokjin came up with when one of you would sneakily visit the other.

A rush of nostalgia tugs at your heart. You wish you were meeting as lovers. Just like old times. But no, this isn't like before, is it?

You ponder on not opening the door. All it takes is a few steps back to the bed where you can sit yourself down and wait for him to leave. But before you could convince your feet to move, you heard your name called behind the door.

It sounded like a plea.

Seokjin was always compelling. You always, somehow, gravitated towards him. You think that was what lasted you to stay with him for a long time, despite the love and trust fading away with the years. You hesitantly open the door halfway, eyes downcast and you mumble his name, ready to make your own plea—please leave. If he truly loves you, he has to let you go. He already walked away from you countless times, now would be the one time you would be thankful if he does it again.

But he doesn't.

Seokjin pushes the door to fully open before he quickly enters the room. As soon as the lock clicks, Seokjin pulls you in for a kiss.

His lips invade yours—tongue dipping in the caverns of your mouth, teeth clashing and you eventually return his kisses. Lust clouds the room, eclipsing your rationality.

The hundreds of reasons you shouldn't be here with Jin aren't lost on you. Your friends and manager drilled those in your head and it made sense. But something about Seokjin and his hands pulling at your clothes was simultaneously tearing down those walls of reasons.

Seokjin's hard body collides with yours on the bed as soft as his lips that were now making its way down to your core. You grip his hair and push his head to rush him. The sound of him chuckling comes first, followed by a wet lick to your pussy.

You stutter out his name, back arching as your grip on him tightens. In return, he grabs your thighs and pulls your hips even closer to him. His head burrowed deep in you and his fluffy bangs tickle your pubic.

"M-missed you," his words came out garbled. His mouth busy sucking your clit as he works his tongue inside your pussy.

You missed him, too. Still do. Even though you've got your eyes on him, in the same room as him, and parts of your bodies are pressed so close, not even air could pass through, you still miss him.

But you doubt he misses you the same way.

"Ride m-my face," he commands, words escaping his mouth between hungry laps at your core.

Everything that follows is muscle memory. You gyrate your hips, smearing Seokjin with your spurting arousal and you feel the vibrations from his groans. Your legs remain locked in his arms. Your lover of the night sits up and tugs at his damp brief. You drool at the sight of his long hard thick cock springing free.

However this night ends, you would relish the feeling of having him inside you again.

Seokjin plunges his dick until his balls hit your ass. He was quick to silence your moans with his lips, hotel sheets cloaking the skin slapping against skin. The only thing giving you away was the loud thuds of the bedpost against the wall, going in the same rhythm as Seokjin thrusts his cock into your pussy.

You cry out his name and a series of love confessions follows, "I still love you, Jinnie," you cry out. He thrusts harder and faster with replies of ‘I know's’.

But does he really know, you wonder. You note the lack of alike sentiments—no, I love you too's, like he would respond before.

Stuck in the haze, you let the uncertainty linger. You take it as he fucks you like he still loves you too.

Your arms remain in a tight embrace and your lips glued to each other's necks, breathing each other in.

Like lovers do.

-

You're awakened with a tickling feeling on your cheeks—perhaps a morning kiss, much like the smooches Seokjin showers you with in the morning.

With eyes still closed, you blissfully hum as your arm stretches across the bed. Your hands are expecting to reach a warm body but they hang in the air as you open your eyes to peek. Your limbs drop as quickly as your heart does.

A dejected sigh is all you could let out. You think you've been dried out from the past few weeks of crying.

This is pathetic, really. You feel pathetic and start to pity yourself even more. You don't know why you could still believe he called to get back together. If there was one thing you learned from the recent months you and Seokjin spent—those months leading to your fallout—you'd know he's no longer the person you fell in love with.

Your friends were right. By the end of it, you turned into just another body who warmed his bed. Or in this case, wet his dick.

And so you make a decision. You're not sure if you're strong enough to follow through with this.

But all you know is this—right now, as a start—you push yourself to remember Seokjin as the man who shattered your dreams and left you alone to dust the smithereens.

The next time your phone rings and Seokjin's caller ID pops on your screen, you deliberately miss his call.

-

[pmak2002]

Without Morris Frank and Buddy there would be no Harper. Service animals would not exist today if Morris Frank never reached out to Dorothy Euthis of Switzerland

This Day In History April 25 1928 Buddy, a German Shepherd, becomes 1st guide dog for a US citizen Morris Frank

Morris Frank became the first American to benefit from the help of a Seeing Eye dog. Frank lost the use of one eye in a childhood accident and the other in a boxing match as a teen and before his soon to be companion Buddy came into his life, Frank received assistance from a human guide.

Morris Frank was a blind man from Nashville. His father read him an article by Dorothy Eustis, a woman living in Switzerland who had seen shepherds training dogs to lead blind people get around. Excited by the idea, Frank wrote a letter to Eustis and received a response letter 30 days later inviting him to come see for himself. Frank then took a ship to Europe and trained extensively with a dog that had been bred specifically to lead a blind person. The training was hard, but after weeks with the dog, Frank could get around the nearby Swiss village holding tightly to a harness to which Buddy was strapped.

Morris Frank returned to America. From the day he got off the ship, he was successful. At one point, in front of a group of dumbfounded reporters, Buddy led Frank safely across a busy New York street. “I shall never forget the next three minutes, Ten-ton trucks rocketing past, cabs blowing their horns in our ears, drivers shouting at us . . . When we finally got to the other side and I realized what a really magnificent job she had done” Frank later wrote.

When Frank returned to Nashville, people were amazed at the sight of the blind man and his dog successfully navigating busy sidewalks and couldn’t believe that it was the same blind boy they had so recently taken pity on. What amazed people the most was that Buddy had an ability best known as “intelligent disobedience,” which meant that he would obey Morris except when executing that command would result in harm to his master. If there was a low hanging branch ahead on the sidewalk, for instance, Buddy knew how to navigate around it to the point where Morris wouldn’t hurt his head on it.

About this time, Frank, Eustis and several others cofounded The Seeing Eye, an institution set up to train guide dogs and their blind masters. Today, the organization reports that it has, in its 80 year history, trained 14,000 dogs. Buddy is considered the first. In 1978, on the 50th anniversary of the founding of the school, the U.S. issued a commemorative stamp in honor of The Seeing Eye.

Frank worked with Buddy until her death on May 23, 1938; he named her replacement Buddy, as he would all his subsequent guide dogs.

Thanks to Buddy service dogs in the US became a possibility!

The Seeing Eye is located in Morristown NJ

Morris continued to fight for Guide dogs rights in public places until his death in 1980 way before the ADA was finally passed July 26th 1990 by George H.W Bush. (Who later benefited from this Act in his older age)

Thank you Morris

Thank you Dorothy

Thank you Buddy

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 10/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Notes at the end!

-----------------------------------------------

Lucifer should've known that even in his sleep, his torment would not stop.

He should have been wiser, but exhaustion dulled his senses, making him lower his guard.

He thought that maybe, maybe, the universe would give me just this little moment. And at the beginning he really thought that. He felt weightless. Like he's not the Morningstar, the fallen angel, the King of Hell, the Sin of Pride, a father or a lover. Like for the first time in a millennia, he simply existed.

So forgive him for his surprise when darkness swallowed his dreams before he could savor them fully.

Roo: Hello, fallen. Been a while, hasn't it?

Lucifer: Roo.

Roo: Don't look at me like that. Our deal is still in effect, you know. I can't do anything more than this even if I wanted to.

Lucifer: You saying you want to do more then? Like harm me?

Roo: Ugh, you silly creatures, always so pessimistic. Can't someone just chill and have fun?

Lucifer: I highly doubt the root of all evil and chaos embodiment just wants to 'chill'.

Roo: Believe what you will, fallen. I am many things, but I am no liar.

Lucifer: Your sister surely is.

Roo had to laugh at that. 

Roo: Yin in every Yang or so they say.

Lucifer: What? You're telling me you have good in you?

Roo: I would think the fact that you get to keep your soul was a sign in and of itself.

Lucifer: That's less than the bare minimum.

Roo smirked and rested her head on her hand, a gesture that grated Lucifer's nerves. He couldn't help but think he should take a page from Adam's book and wipe that shit-eating grin off her face.

Roo: Had the old man never told you to not look at a gifted horse's mouth? 

Lucifer: Enough. Why are you really here?

Roo: If you must know, I merely wanted to ask how you are doing! After all, meeting The Fates must have been quite the experience.

Lucifer: You were looking?

Roo: I wanted to see if my vessel works well. It's not my fault I can see everything you see, hear every thought you think, feel every pain you wish never happened but also desire to inflict onto yourself. I wanna ask, does your pity party ever stop?

Realistically, Lucifer knows that Roo is messing with him; she was deliberately provoking him, reveling in his inner turmoil. She's luring him in, and he's taking the bait.

There's a creeping cold that's getting worse the longer they talk. He thought nothing of it at first but he's now starting to feel it under his skin.

He's well aware of the threat in front of him but doesn't mean he's not going to bite back with force.

Lucifer: I think you're forgetting who delivered the final blow in the first war. You know, the blow that led to your defeat?

Roo's nonchalant and playful facade cracked just a bit that Lucifer knows he struck a nerve.

Lucifer: Hell, shouldn't you be more thankful to me? Without my actions in offering the fruit to humanity, you wouldn't have gained the power you so desperately craved to rise again. And now, here you are, benefiting from my influence once more.

The Sin of Pride couldn't fathom where this sudden surge of confidence came from, but he refused to cower any longer. Roo had expected him to tremble in fear, to bow before her as if she were someone superior to be revered on.

He's sick and tired of everyone assuming he should be the one on his knees, begging for mercy.

Lucifer: How are you the root of all evil when I'm the one who started sin. You should be worshipping me! Now that I think about it, in some twisted way, I was your creator-

His mockery was short lived when the dreamscape glitched and suddenly it wasn't Roo in front of him; it's The Root of All Evil.

Laughter erupted from the shadowy figure, a grotesque sound reminiscent of a rabid hyena's. Refusing to be intimidated, Lucifer continues to put oil in the fire.

Lucifer: Bringing out the big guns for a little comment? Insecure much?

He's bullshitting at this point but damn him if he's going down without an ounce of victory. He also thinks he's lucky to have said as much at all.

The abrupt stop of laughter sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, and then gravity seemed to solidify around him, pressing down with an oppressive force.

Push.

Michael: All you had to do was listen.

Push.

Lilith: You're exhausting, Lucifer.

Push.

Charlie: He's defending this hotel! How come he could have faith in me but my own father can't.

Push.

Y̵̛̞̝̳̥͍̏͛͊ö̴̼̭̜̖́͗̒͝ü̴̩͚͆͑ ̵͎̉̒̄̄ả̶̭͈͍̟̳ṙ̵̡̲͙̼͎è̸̮̳̲̊͂̔̍ ̴̠͔̯̘̬̑͝s̵̜̪̗̯̚è̴͇͌̇ṅ̷̘̝̀t̶̛̹̝̄͘ẻ̶͓̱̬͔̅̉ͅn̵̥̽̋̌̓ĉ̴͜e̶̯͇̤̺̤̅̀̅d̵̝̰̬̗̋ͅ ̶̝͕̩͇̱̎̋͝͝ẗ̶̢̊͠õ̶̡̦͖͒̈́̍̍ ̸̧̏F̸̧̬̪̂̋a̸̞͈͍͇̔̓͘͜l̶̬͙̤͈̝̑̕l̵̼͂.̴̱̘̣̽̏̕͜

Lucifer screams. But instead of despair, he feels anger bubbling within him. What the hell is happening to him? He's been snapping more. Why did he snap at Michael? Why did he tell him that he can't wait for Heaven to be destroyed? He never wanted that. All he wanted was to give Eve free will. All he wanted was to love Lilith. All he wanted was for Charlie to be safe. All he wanted was for everything to STOP!

Roo: What's the matter, little devil? Never seen real evil before?

The cold is becoming unbearable now. The lake is frozen and all the greenery had been turned into crystals, consumed by the creeping frost that made them look like solid darkness.

Lucifer gritted his teeth, feeling the chill seeping into his bones, threatening to overwhelm him. He refused to give Roo the satisfaction of witnessing the King of Hell tremble; regardless if it's in fear or not.

Roo: Let me show you just how good of a person I can be. 

Then she's suddenly up on his face and brings a finger to his forehead.

Lucifer can feel Roo's corruption going further inside him and at the same time, a lot of somethings are coming out. It must be his remaining divinity because that's the only reason he can think of on why his Father's tether is screaming and clawing at him. 

He feels himself choke from everything happening all at once but he can't move. Roo has him locked in place and he never felt so helpless.

'Am I going to die here?'

No. Roo said that she won't be the one to deliver him to his demise. Nevertheless, he thinks that this is it.

Roo: Remember these words, fallen. A message from The Fates that you did not get to hear.

Charlie. He wants Charlie.

Roo: With the first soul's ascend, all began to unfold.

Tears begin to form in The King of Hell's eyes. Be it from the pain or fear, he doesn't know. 

Roo: It will end at a star's fall, as the threads have foretold.

Michael! Where is he?! He promised Samael he'll always protect him!

Roo: Trumpets will sing, as the sky recites a prayer.

'Father. Help me.'

Roo: An instrument of Heaven shall come down and be the devil's slayer.

He struggled to remain conscious; he fights to stay awake but he can't even move a finger but his efforts were in vain as he collapsed to the frozen ground, utterly drained. Through hazy vision, he can see Roo staring down at him with a gleeful smile.

Roo: See you soon, my fallen~

He wakes up to the smell of Marigolds.

-----------------------------------------------

In Nifty's voice: How was that?!!

You have no idea how long I spent making that rhyme prophecy thingy.

As always, your kind words and actions are greatly appreciated!

My DM's are always open for theories and introspections <3

[stobinesque]

23. “Just pretend to be my date.” for the writing prompt thing <3

hello!! thank you! 😊As much as I love a set up for a fake dating plot, I ended up going in a platonic stobin direction because writing dialogue for them is addictive to me. (also holy heck this grew legs; I did manage to keep it below 1k though)

---

“That sounds like a big undertaking, Steve.”

“What? Robs, how? Just pretend to be my date. It’s only for one night.”

“Yeah, exactly, dingus. Anyone who sees us interact for more than two seconds in a ‘date’ context is going to think we’re married, not on some casual second date or something.”

“I think you’re giving my family’s observation skills a little bit too much credit.” He rounds the corner of the desk with a fresh stack of returns in his arms.

“No, actually, I’m assuming they have the same observational skills of the average Hawkins resident.” Robin flings herself dramatically onto the register’s counter. “Honestly, life would be so much easier if I actually wanted a beard—constantly trying to convince people we aren’t dating while also throwing them off the scent of my raging lesbianism is exhausting.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he sticks a tape into the rewinder. “Tell me about it.”

“I am! Right now! Me being your beard for your cousin’s wedding is just going to cause more problems than it solves.”

“If I go alone, my aunt is going to spend the whole night trying to set me up with one of the daughters of her husband’s country club friends. Or, worse, she’s going to spend the whole night interrogating me about why I haven’t ‘settled down with a nice girl’ yet, and each time I give an answer that isn’t ‘I am currently planning out an elaborate engagement to a girl you don’t know’ she’s going to get increasingly suspicious about my ‘prolonged bachelor-hood’.”

“Yeah, okay, but why does it have to be me?”

“Because you’re my best friend and you love me?” Steve shoots her his best charming smile. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Try again, asshole.”

Steve throws his hands into the air. “I’m kind of limited on options here, Rob! All the people I know are either children, men, or my ex!”

Robin’s face turns considering, and she gets a little glint in her eye.

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” Steve circles a finger in the general vicinity of her face. “What’s that? What’s this? What are you thinking?”

“How about Vickie?”

“What?”

“Yeah!” Robin pushes herself back off the counter and starts pacing around. “Think about it, it’s perfect: you both have similar tastes in movies, and the same awful sense of humor—“

“I’m telling her you said that.”

Robin halts in her tracks and shoots Steve a mock pitying expression. “Babe, she already knows.”

Steve crosses his arms across his chest, grumbling.

“Anyway, as I was saying: you both have the same terrible sense of humor, and you both love, like, cars, or whatever. Oh, and sports—!”

“Rob, you like sports—”

“Yes, but we’re trying to figure out a date for you who’s not me.”

“You’re trying to find a date for me that’s not you.”

“And you’re playing along because you’re a supportive friend.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but she wasn’t wrong, so he just snapped it back shut again. “Fine, carry on.”

“Thank you.” Robin gives him an imperious little nod. “Aaaas I was saying: the two of you have a lot in common and get along really well, but you’re also both, like, supremely weird around each other when I’m not there—”

“We are not!”

“Steve, the last time I left the two of you alone together I came back to find both of you standing side by side staring into the middle distance, completely silent, until Vickie piped up to say ‘So the sky is really blue today, huh?’”

“I can’t help it if you can’t appreciate a mutual pensive silence, Bobbin.”

“I’m— I— wh— ” Robin splutters, looking dumbfounded. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“I can do long words too, sometimes!”

Robin rolls her eyes again. “Yes, yes, you’re a regular Einstein. Back to my point—”

Steve flings his head back. “Did you have one?”

“Yes, now shut up. My point, is that you and Vickie have enough in common that people will buy her as your date, but you’re awkward enough around each other that you won’t have to act like it’s true love, or something. Perfect for a cover-up temporary romance!”

Steve mulls it over. “Okay. Say I agree that your logic makes sense—”

“It does.”

“Sure, fine, yes. Your logic makes sense. But, you’re still forgetting one crucial detail.”

“And that is…”

The bell to Family Video’s front door jingles as Vickie walks in with a wide smile on her face. “Hi Robin! Hey, Steve! What’s up?”

Steve raises an eyebrow in Robin’s direction.

“Oh shit. We have to actually ask her.”