#I will just not do it for now. I am sure it is fine. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunrizef1 · 21 hours

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imgonnagetyouback

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: I guess I lied about the Lando thing… this songs just so Lando I can’t explain it and I’m actually obsessed with this song rn. You probably have to at least know the premise of the song to understand the second half of this.

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍New York, New York

liked by maxfewtrell taylorswift and 13,998,887 others

yourusername hello, New York!

tagged: taylorswift

Load comments…

user1 my fav

user2 love her

user3 so pretty 🤩

taylorswift 🩵

yourusername 🤭💋

user4 welcome to New York, so real

user5 I miss Lando

user6 hi queen!!!

user7 new music when

user8 “I love NY not you” lmao Lando get up

user9 now why in the world did max like this

user10 and now Lando will post an Instagram story of him partying with some random girl to prove he’s having more fun than y/n is, we know how this goes

user11 you can not tell me they don’t miss each other

sabrinacarpenter pretty 🤩 🤩 🤩

yourusername no u 💋

user12 I just need a video of her English ass trying to navigate new York please and thx

maxfewtrell hey bestie!

yourusername oh my god get out of here

user13 wtf is max doing 😭😭

gracieabrams I ❤️ u

yourusername 🥰

oscarpiastri hi

yourusername hi?

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landonorris added to their story

user14

Now wtf

user15

user10 was right

user16

Alright ig

oscarpiastri

oh okay

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

oscarpiastri

Still can't believe you convinced me to do that

yourusername

You'll be fine, ill get you concert tickets

can't even tell its you either

oscarpiastri

fine

they better be vip

yourusername

Dw they will be

—————-

maxfewtrell

???

yourusername

Dw its just Oscar

maxfewtrell

Jesus i cant believe you

yourusername

He started it. This is the first time I've included a guy in my posts, landos been doing it for months

maxfewtrell

you're gonna be the death of me

yourusername

💋💋💋💋

maxfewtrell

take care of yourself though y/n

yourusername

I am

Thx tho max 🫶

maxfewtrell

Yeah yeah 🙄

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yourusername

📍Paris, France

liked by charles_leclerc oscarpiastri and 21,008,771 others

yourusername I can tell when somebody still wants me

load comments…

user17 oh yay they're gonna sneak diss in their Insta captions again

user18 I miss dad ☹️

user19 she's so pretty omg

maxfewtrell oh wonderful we’re doing this now

yourusername leave

user20 lando its your turn

user21 IM IN LOVE WITH HER

charles_leclerc I'm amused

yourusername congrats

user22 they're so messy I love them

oscarpiastri great he's about to drag me into doing something stupid because of this

yourusername that is not my problem

user23 I sense new music coming along

user24 I do genuinely think he still wants her lowk

user25 they want eachother, don't lie. Its defo mutual

user26 😍😍😍

taylorswift 🤩

yourusername 🥰

jackantonoff 🤪

liker by yourusername

user27 why is jack here???? New music???

————————————————

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell martingarrix and 12,008,998 others

landonorris I have what I want

load comments…

user28 oh… yay

user29 🤩🤩🤩

user30 say what you want about their shitty personalities but they sure do know how to make an aesthetic post

user31 the shade is immense

maxfewtrell im nauseous

landonorris 👍

user32 they’re so into each other it’s actually insane

user33 OH MY GOD WE GET IT YOU MISS EACHOTHER

user34 🤩🤩🤩

user35 he’s so fine

user35 LANDO-

user36 now what’s y/n gonna do

user37 how long until they both apologize and get back together… these are not the posts of people who have healthily moved on from their previous relationship

user38 fine as hell lowk

oscarpiastri this is 100% the most healthy way to handle this

landonorris I didn’t ask

user39 all of their friends are so annoyed and it’s so funny

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yourusername added to their story

maxfewtrell

Is this a song where you admit you’re still in love with Lando so you both can finally get over your emotional immaturity???

yourusername

kinda

maxfewtrell

Oh fr?

I thought you’d just be mean to him for the whole song

yourusername

Uhhh-

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yourusername

liked by sabrinacarpenter taylorswift and 21,000,111 others

yourusername imgonnagetyouback out now 🩶

Load comments…

user40 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK

user41 oh my god it’s so good

user42 LANDO GET UP

user43 THE CAPTION FROM PARIS WAS A SONG LYRICCCCC

user44 oh so she’s still in love with him

user45 “you were never not mine” 💀

user46 I CAN FEEL IT COMING HUMMIN IN THE WAY YOU MOVE

user47 PUSH THE RESET BUTTON WERE BECOMING SOMETHING NEW

user48 SAY YOU GOT SOMEBODY ILL SAY IVE GOT SOMEONE TOO

user49 EVEN IF ITS HANDCUFFED IM LEAVING HERE WITH YOU

user50 “I’m an Aston Martin” okay lance strollll

oscarpiastri “I’ve got someone too” no you do not 💀

yourusername oh my god shut up

user51 she’s still in love with him dhmu

maxfewtrell when I asked if this was going to be emotionally healthy and not a diss I can now see why you were conflicted…. Bit of both tbh

yourusername 🫶

maxfewtrell 👎

user52 told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same 😭

user53 SO GOOD

user54 WHETHER IM GONNA BE YOUR WIFE????

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landonorris added to their story

maxfewtrell

…

what does this achieve

landonorris

What do you want

maxfewtrell

Mate come on

you’re still obviously in love with her

and the song litteraly shows she’s still in love with you

all you’ve done is post a thirst trap of yourself with song lyrics on top

landonorris

It’s not a thirst trap

maxfewtrell

I hate both of you

text her mate

you’re happier together

And I’m tired of both of you annoying the shit out of me

landonorris

Fine

Maybe I will

maxfewtrell

Thank god

It’d be the first time you listened to me

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MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

maxfewtrell

That better be Lando or so help me god

yourusername

Calm your tits

It is

maxfewtrell

YEAHHHH

Finally

I can stop playing matchmaker

yourusername

😒😒😒😒

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oscarpiastri

Oh so this means you’ll both stop dragging me into your dumb shit

yourusername

🖕🖕🖕🖕

oscarpiastri

🫶

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris

liked by yourusername maxfewtrell and 13,001,881 others

landonorris told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same

load comments…

user55 YEAHHHHHHH

user56 Y/N LIKED WE’RE SO BACK

user57 my favs

user58 my parents are back together 😭

user59 unlike your real ones

user58 woah???

user59 🤷‍♀️ it’s the truth

user60 I missed them so much 😭😭😭

user61 admitted you love your ex-gf on main, this is self-improvement

yourusername pick your poison, babe

landonorris I’m poison either way

user62 I appreciate the repeating lyrics at each other because it is cute but those are not the kindest lyrics to be repeating 😭

user63 who knew that shit-talking your ex in a song could get him to re-admit his love for you

maxfewtrell took you long enough

landonorris legitimately who asked you

maxfewtrell I’m the reason this even happened in the first place. Watch your tone.

landonorris thanks i guess

maxfewtrell “I guess” @/yourusername this is how happy he is to have you back

yourusername landoooo

landonorris sorry. Thank you so much max, I’m so grateful you brought the loml back to me.

maxfewtrell you’re welcome ☺️

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yourusername

liked by landonorris maxfewtrell and 20,887,991 others

yourusername got you back

load comments…

user64 she got him back 🥹

user65 YEAHHHHH LFG

user66 awwwww

user67 I love them so much

user68 sleeping on the highway tonight 🫶

oscarpiastri 🥳🥳🥳

liked by yourusername

user69 these pictures are so cute oh my god 😭

user70 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK

landonorris you decided wether you’re gonna be my wife or smash up my bike yet?

yourusername still not sure… maybe both 🤔

user71 BOTH?????

user72 YEAH YEAH THATS FUNNY AND ALL BUT SHE JUST SAID SHE’D MARRY HIM

maxfewtrell congratulations nerds

yourusername thanks mate

user73 I’m in love with both of them

user74 they’re both so much happier together I really hope they stick this time

user75 and when she releases a love album then what

landonorris ily 🫶

yourusername ily2 🫶

user76 Jesus Christ they’re such teenagers 😭 USE FULL WORDS 😭😭😭

user77 no I get them. I wouldn’t post full love confessions in an Instagram comment section either lmao

user78 they got each other back 🫶

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Taglist: @casperlikej @evie-119

#lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau

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helen-with-an-a · 2 days

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I am an adult part 5

Hiya, so this is the penultimate part of this series. It's a little angstier than what I had originally planned and I'm not entirely sure it'll get much better ahahaha. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. And shout out to @lyak12 for helping me out with the plot a little ahahah

Barça Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6

Word Count: 5.3k

TW: A bit of bad mental health; R is a little shitty

It wasn’t until the Pokal Final that you actually got to see Lena again. It hadn’t really been a planned visit, but you had to get away. You had to see her, feel her again. You needed her to keep the darkness at bay. It was a random Monday morning when you received a phone call from your agent.

“Hey, pet, are you free to chat?” Paul said, his Geordie accent sounding slightly thicker than usual. “Yeh, yeh. I’ve just got home – what’s up?” You asked happily, not knowing the devastation that was about to come your way. “Um, look … there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna come right out and say it …” he paused, clearly psyching himself up for whatever he was about to say. You sat up from where you were slouched over the kitchen counter. This sounded important. Really important. And that scared you. “You know Barça have been having …” He searched for the right word. “Financial issues,” he settled on, hoping to give you an indication of where this conversation might be going. You did know the financial issues the club was having – it had been plastered all over various social media. You had tried not to let it worry you, but there had been a little niggle in the back of your head. “I’m so sorry, pet. They aren’t offering an extension. I’ve just received the information; they cannot afford to keep you on next season. You’re being let go. Your last match as a Barcelona Femeni player will be the 16th of June.”

Your world broke. What did they mean they could not afford to keep you? Were you not worth it to them? Of course, you weren’t worth the money. You were just a kid in their eyes. Why would they keep you instead of Alexia? A lifelong player that bled Barcelona and had multiple Ballon d'Ors to her name. Or Lucy? A multiple-time Champion League winner in her own right, with numerous individual accolades too. You were expendable. You were lucky they had even taken you on all those years ago. How naïve had you become to allow yourself to get comfortable? Was it because of the issues with the government last year? You knew you had seriously fucked up then, but everything seemed to be behind you. Nothing more had been said about the incident.

You cleared your throat, a futile attempt to dislodge the heavy lump that had formed. “Right … um …” You managed to croak out, your voice sounding foreign and weak to your own ears. “Pet, I know this is not what you wanted to hear. And I’m so, so sorry.” “It’s fine.” It was very much not fine. But you were too numb to do anything, really. The thoughts swirling dangerously across your mind were not something you wanted to process right now. “No, it’s not.” Paul's replied solemnly, his voice heavy. “I’ve tried to negotiate; I’ve just come back from a meeting with them, actually. I had hoped to have some kind of agreement made but they aren’t budging.” He paused, the silence echoing the futility of his efforts. “But you’ve got offers,” he reassured you, his words a feeble attempt to lighten the heavy disappointment. “Name the continent and you’ve got an offer. Portland, Houston, Gotham, Kansas, Tigres, Bayern, Wolfsburg, Lyon, PSG, Melbourne, Sydney, Chelsea, Man City,-”

It was too much. Information overload.

“C-can we not do this right now? I … I just need a minute.” Your voice was thick with suppressed tears. “Absolutely, of course. How about I get all the offers and whatnot up and into a document for you and I’ll email it over to you. You read over it, and I’ll schedule a meeting for, let’s say, next Monday? We can talk it all through then, yeah?” “Yeah,” you agreed absently. You didn’t want to look over offers. You wanted to stay in Barcelona. You were happy here; you had friends, and people you considered family were here. But they didn’t want you. They were more than happy to throw you to the wind without a second doubt. The phone call ended and that was that. Barça didn’t want you. You weren’t worth it.

Conflicting emotions raging a war in your mind; pain, hurt, anger, sadness, defeat, fear, anxiety, dread, disappointment, helplessness, embarrassment, shame. The first hour after the phone call you had stayed by the counter, watching each message from all of your teammates and Lena buzz. You prayed one of them would be Paul, telling you that Barça had reconsidered, that they had miraculously found the money and would offer you an extension. He never did. You knew the adult thing would be to let yourself feel … something … anything. But you didn’t want to be an adult right now. Adult, you would be sad; look over the document Paul sent over and view this as an opportunity. Adult you would phone up Ona and Alexia and ask them to come round and help you through this. Adult you would call Lena. But you weren’t an adult right now. Right now, you were scared and ashamed, and angry and in so much pain. You didn’t want to do what adults should do. You didn’t know what you wanted … but you knew being an adult was not one of them.

Eventually, you moved to the couch. The couch that you had forced Ona, Patri and Pina to help you pick out. The couch that had witnessed so many memories – you had cried on this couch, you had laughed on this couch, you had fucked on this couch, you had loved on this couch. And now you had to find a new couch. You had to leave this couch behind. Slowly, the darkness crept in. With every passing hour a new part of your house was in shadow, another memory gone. The suncatcher in the window, the candles on the coffee table, the pictures on the wall … all disappearing in the blackness and soon to be forgotten. That is what would happen to you; you were sure of it. Alexia would move on and find a new Pequeña. Ona would move in with Lucy. Patri and Pina would have dinner-and-movie dates together without you. Marta, Sandra and Irene would go back to their own lives and stop worrying about you.

What were you going to tell Lena? Sorry, Liebe, your girlfriend’s unemployed. Sorry, Liebe, your long-distance girlfriend is potentially moving further away, and you’ll never play against her again. Barcelona had witnessed so much of your first steps to a tentative relationship. Barcelona had seen your first meetings, your first date, your butterflies, your excitement when you returned home, your confusion as unknown feelings of love swirled around in your chest.

Your phone buzzed. Speak of the devil. You didn’t want to speak to her right now. You knew that talking to her would make you cry. And you were trying really hard not to cry. But all you wanted to hear was her voice, her laughter, her reassurances. Your body moved before you had even noticed. “Hey, Schatz.” “H-,” you cleared your throat. “Hey, Liebe.” “Was ist los mit dir?” You could hear the panic in her voice, the shuffling of fabric as she sat up, attentive to what was happening. Your phone beeped again.

L 💚 is requesting a switch to video call

You clicked yes without thinking about it. Her face filled your screen; even in pixels, she looked beautiful. You, on the other hand, looked like a mess. Had you been crying? You didn’t think so, but you must have been, as another tear rolled silently down your cheek. Your eyes were red, your skin splotchy, and your face swollen and puffy. “Oh, Schatz,” Lena cooed. “What’s wrong?” Her soft voice was filled with earnest. You could feel her willing you to speak to her. You shook your head as the lump grew in your throat. “Schatz … bitte.” You made eye contact through the phone. “Barça … Barça aren’t offering a new contract. I have to leave at the end of the season.” Silence. A heartbeat of pure torture. Lena didn’t know what to say. She was angry for you – how could they not want you? Talent aside, you were the most incredible human in the world. Why would they not want you? But one look at you told her you didn’t need her anger; you needed her comfort. “Oh, Schatz,” she cooed. You shook your head, trying to fight back the overwhelming force of tears. “It’s ok to cry,” she reminded you. Her permission was all you needed. Hot, wet tears streamed down your face; the sobs hurt your chest. How? How could they do this? It took a while, filled with Lena’s comforting words and gentle reassurance, for you to calm down. When you were coherent enough to see the screen properly, you could tell Lena had been crying, too. Great, now you had made your girlfriend cry. “Ha-have you spoken to your agent?” She asked quietly, humming when you nodded. There was another pause, this time not as painful but still hard to get through. “Schatz, I want to come see you. Or you to see me. Please…” she pleaded. “No, Liebe, you’re busy. You’ve,” you sniffed, wiping your nosy unattractively on your sleeve. God, you’d be lucky if she still wanted to be with you after this. “You’ve got the Pokal final in like 3 days.” You so desperately wanted to see her, though. “Then you come to me,” she implored. “I’ve got matches, too,” you whimpered. The last thing you wanted to do was play for a club that didn’t want you. “Schatz, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but fuck them.” That made you laugh … well, not laugh per se, more like a weird huff or snort. But Lena could tell it was a gesture of humour nonetheless, she couldn’t help but respond with a similar smile. “I’m being honest. You’ve basically won the league; you can skip one game. You need a break and time to get your head around everything. Tell them it’s for mental health or whatever. Just … please, Schatz. I need to see you. I need to know you’re ok,” she said more seriously. “If you don’t come to Germany, I’m coming to you.”

You mulled it over, and Lena could tell you were thinking properly. You stared off out of the camera, your teeth sinking into your lip. You had your thinking face on. You really didn’t want to see anyone at Barça for the next few days. You needed to step back and have time to process, but you couldn’t do that with training and having to face the girls again. And it was true that you had already won the league; you didn’t need to play this particular match. And a break might do you some good. With the Copa de la Reina and Champion’s League finals coming up, seeing Lena again was something that would definitely help you relax a little. But you had the Copa de la Reina and Champion’s League finals coming up. You couldn’t miss valuable days of training. Barça were on for the quadruple. Should you do it? “The matches …” you finally said. “Mean nothing if it’s at the expense of your mental well-being,” Lena said emphatically. That was true. Winning the Copa de la Reina and Champion’s League would mean the world to you, only … you wouldn’t, couldn’t, be able to truly enjoy the experience. Not with this sword dangling over your head.

Less than 6 hours later, you found yourself on a plane. You had booked the first available flight out of Barcelona, hastily stuffing random hoodies and comfy joggers into a bag and snatching your passport. A curt text to Jona was all it took. You had made your decision, and a sense of relief washed over you. Lena would help you make sense of everything. You would take some time, give yourself a few days away from it all and then return with a plan. At least, that's what you told yourself.

Y/F/N Y/S/N: Hi. Unfortunately, I won’t be at training this week due to personal reasons. I would also appreciate if my name taken off the match list this weekend. Thanks Y/N.

Jonatan Giráldez: Hola, Y/N. I’m so sorry to hear that. Of course, take as much time as you need and yes, your name is off the squad list. If there is anything the club can do to help, please let me know. I hope you feel better soon, J.

If there’s anything the club can do to help? After they threw you away like you were nothing? After they brought you here as a child and then washed their hands of you? Not even having the decency to tell you with more than a month until your contract expired. Why would you go to the club? And surely Jonatan would know about your agent's conversations with the club? The staff always had a say in who was staying and who wasn’t; he must have known that the meeting was happening. That you were being told that you were no longer considered a valuable squad member – or at least one that warranted the cost to keep on … right?

One thing you hadn’t really considered, or maybe you had subconsciously but didn’t care, was the rest of the team. In their eyes, you had finished the recovery session on the Sunday as happy as Larry, and then you had dropped off the face of the earth. No one had heard from you, and then suddenly, at training, Jona said that you were taking some time off due to personal reasons. And no, he genuinely didn’t know what the personal reasons were. He even went so far as to show the Captains your text message. Short and to the point, no elaboration. Patri could feel the iciness through the words. Something was wrong.

Alexia’s phone call went straight to voicemail, as did Patri’s … Sandra’s, Irene’s, and Marta’s. They had Ona try, Pina, Cata, and Lucy. Every member of the team tried phoning you, and they all received the same response: straight to voicemail. So, you had turned your phone off. “Is she at her house?” Keira asked, watching as Ona pulled up your location. Ingrid stood off to the side, watching with worry as the girls descended into chaos over your unknown whereabouts. “Ok, everyone, enough,” she shouted, drawing all attention to her. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Ona, Ale and I will go to Y/N’s and check if she’s there. If she is, we'll stay and help her out with whatever she needs. If she isn’t, we’ll come back to mine, and we think of what to do next, ok? Everyone else, you are more than welcome to come to go home with María and wait, or you can do whatever you want. I don’t really care. We’ll keep you all updated on what’s happening, yeh?”

The plan was simple, really. Everyone knew what they had to do. The anxiety in the car was high, but calm and sensible Ingrid helped break the tension. “Her cars here,” Ona pointed out, nodding her head towards your designated space. “That’s good,” Ale smiled, squeezing Ona’s shoulder, but shared a look with Ingrid. They knew that that meant little in the grand scheme of things, you often ordered an Uber to take you places instead of driving. The hallway was unusually dark as they approached your apartment door. It was shut and locked, ruling out a break-in at least. Letting themselves in, it was starkly evident that you had left in a hurry – wherever you had gone. A blanket was carelessly left on the couch, a half-drunk cold cup of tea on the counter, your wardrobe door open and hangers on the bed. You were conspicuously absent. Ona was deeply unsettled; this was not like you at all. You never left without a word. Even if you were just going to the shops, you always texted her or sent her a silly selfie – it was a habit she cherished about you. Something was seriously, truly amiss.

Seeing Lena, the stone pressing on your chest felt lifted slightly. You walked straight into her arms as you hurried through the exit. Her soft skin, cinnamon smell, warm arms, and strong heartbeat soothed the storm. “Schatz,” she cooed, not mentioning the tears she felt dropping onto her shoulder. Come on, we’ll get a taxi back to my hotel, ja?” She ushered you towards the taxi rank. It was a little awkward for you both as she kept her arm tightly around you, silently thanking the heavens that you had brought only a carry-on backpack and not an actual suitcase.

After speaking to Tommy and signing a totally unnecessary NDA, you were allowed to sit in on the Wolfsburg training. You were reluctant to leave Lena; she wanted you as close as possible. It was obvious to everyone that you were not ok as you kept your eyes trailing to the floor and a firm grip on Lena. You were always seen with your arm around her waist, her hand in yours or your head resting on her shoulder. To those who didn’t know you, it would just look like long-distance lovers finally reunited; to everyone else, though, you were clearly going through something. Jule hadn’t even said anything before pulling you into a hug, squeezing nice and tightly before passing you to Sveindís. She had just pressed a kiss to your forehead before continuing the conversation as if it was normal for you to be there. Alex and Svenja had pulled you aside as you walked into breakfast the first morning you were there. When they heard from Lena that you were watching the final, they thought it would be perfect timing for the talk. They prepared a speech and everything, promising painful retribution if you stepped a foot out of line. An hour watching you and Lena interact silently, automatically knowing what the other needed without ever speaking, made them throw their plan straight out the window.

“Hey, Y/N. Can we talk for a minute?” Alex asked, putting a gentle hand on your elbow. You looked up wildly at Lena, relaxing slightly as she smiled and kissed your cheek, moving away to give you privacy. “Whose behinds do we need to kick?” Svenja jumped straight to it. “Huh?” You furrowed your brows in confusion. “We’ve seen the way you interact on the pitch. We’ve been in the room when you call Lena. You clearly are not yourself, so I’ll ask again. Whose needs a good kick up the bum?” It was something about the pair of them. You knew they were the motherly figures of the team, especially for Lena. She always sang their praises whenever she had the chance. You took a deep breath. “The whole of Barça?” You don’t know why you said it as a question. “Barça as in the city of Barcelona? Or just the team?” Alex quizzed “Um … well, they aren’t renewing my contract in the summer. They said they can’t afford it. But the first time either me or my agent heard about it was when they formally told us. I guess it just … knocked me a little.” You confessed. It was the first time you had explained what had happened since you first told Lena. Your heart clenched as you said the words, every syllable making it more and more real. “Oh, mausi. It’s ok.” Alex pulled you into a hug, gently squeezing you. “Take as much time as you need, ja? And talk to Obi, lean on her, let her be there for you.” Svenja added, rubbing your back comfortingly. You nodded, smiling gratefully at the two women.

You tried to keep a low profile, you successfully stayed out of the camera as you sat in the stands during Wolfsburg’s practices. You had spent most of the training looking over the documents your manager had sent over. A lot of the offers seemed really good. A very nice salary from most of them, some offered flats and houses, others offered cars and expenses. But there was one that stood out for you. It was no different than any of the other offers. But it lingered in your mind; it danced across your thoughts as you tried to fall asleep in Lena’s arms; it flicked as you ate breakfast; it appeared randomly as you waited for Lena to return from the showers. Should you? Logically, you knew you had to go somewhere. And you would have to move out of Barcelona and probably out of Spain too. There was one thing that this offer had that the others didn’t. Well, not a thing, but a person.

Inevitably, for all your efforts to hide yourself away, you were caught at the match. You had a black hoodie of Lena’s on and sunglasses, hoping it was enough to keep you from being recognised, but the fans were too good. You were picked up by hundreds of phones, all snapping photos of you. You knew it was kind of stupid to go to Lena’s match after withdrawing from your own, but you wanted to watch a football that didn’t impact you in any way beyond that of a fan. You were desperate to watch the game you loved as a fan again, to rediscover your love for the sport you dedicated your whole life to.

Ona was absolutely beside herself with worry. She was convinced you were dead. Or seriously injured, at the very least. “Si us plau, si us plau, Lucia. Por favor. Please,” she begged Lucy. For what, Lucy was unsure. “I don’t know what to do.” “I know, my love. I know.” Lucy ran her hands through Ona’s loose hair, twisting the strands around her fingers in a way she knew should bring her comfort. “What if she’s dead? I can’t lose her, not like this. Not without saying goodbye,” Ona sobbed. “She’s not, I promise you. She isn’t dead.” Despite her attempts, she didn’t know that. Not definitely. You could be lying in a ditch somewhere or in a hospital bed, unable to wake up and tell someone your name. Of course, she was worried for you, but she was more concerned for Ona. She was inconsolable. You had disappeared from her life without a trace.

Next to Lucy, her phone buzzed. She was going to ignore it; her girlfriend needed her more than whoever was messaging her. But when Ona’s tinged and then both started to ring, she sat up slightly. “Sí?” “She’s alive.” Ingrid breathed, sighing out in relief. That made Lucy sit up. “Hold on, let me put you on speaker, I’m with Oni.” “She’s alive. She’s in Germany. It’s on Instagram and Twitter. She’s at the Pokal final.” Mapí said, her tone a mix of relief and anger. “Què?” Ona sniffled, sitting up and leaning into Lucy more. “Some accounts have photos of her, it's all over social media. Ingrid’s trying to reach anyone from Wolfsburg. So’s Frido.” Mapí explained. “Lena,” Ona said, realisation dawning on her. If you were at a game in Germany, you would be watching Lena play.

Rumour: Y/F/N Y/S/N to transfer to Wolfsburg or Bayern Munich.

After being spotted at the DFB-Pokal Frauen 2024 Final, F.C. Barcelona midfielder Y/F/N Y/S/N is rumoured to make the intercontinental move next season. To which club is yet to be confirmed, but all signs point to the young player leaving Barcelona in the summer. With her presence at the Pokal Final, can we assume that she will be going to either Wolfsburg or Bayern?

Keep reading to find out more …..

Ona stared at her phone in shock. There was no way, no way in hell you were leaving Barça, especially not without telling her. You were happy here; you loved it here. Why would you go? You had friends here; you had your best friend here; you had your family here. She couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes. You weren’t leaving her, were you? It would explain why you were MIA for the past three days. Whilst she was at home, worried sick that you were lying dead in a ditch or in some ICU in a coma, your name unknown, you were off in Germany, living life and meeting your new teammates. And you had abandoned training and asked to be taken off the match squad. This couldn’t be the personal reasons you had mentioned in your text. There had to be more to it. There had to be a simple explanation. And yet, none was forthcoming. You had hopped on a plane and flew to Germany. No message, no phone call, no email. Just upped and left the country. So you could meet with your new team.

How could you do this to Ona? After all that you two had been through, after all that you had shared with each other. You were the first person she told about Lucy. You were the first person outside the Spanish national players she confessed to about what truly happened behind closed doors. You were there for her in ways no one else was or could be. And yet, you were leaving her without saying goodbye.

Leaving Lena was hard; you didn't really want to go back to Barcelona and face what was awaiting you. When you finally switched your phone back on, you were met with thousands of messages and missed calls. They started off concerned, then really worried and then they turned angry. You couldn't fault them; your behaviour was shitty. You would be just as angry if one of them had done that to you. But you needed a few days without anyone related to Barcelona. You needed the distance to clear your head and gather a game plan to present to your agent when you next spoke. You didn't even know about the article that was making its way around the internet. You weren't too big on social media unless it was to make your monthly Instagram posts. You followed the necessary people and uploaded the right things, but you didn't scroll for hours. You had been there before, been down that path and knew that only badness lay ahead. You had read the comments, seen the nastiness, heard the bitterness. So, you stayed clear, away from the world of social media trolls and online negativity. You didn't know of the absolute hell that was awaiting you.

Maybe going straight from the airport to training was a bad idea. Perhaps you should have taken the time to phone someone and let them know you were returning. Possibly, you should have spoken to Alexia and Ona first so you could explain yourself properly. Potentially you should have checked social media. But you didn’t. You didn’t do any of that.

You arrived at the training ground with your headphones in and hood up. You hurried passed reception, ignoring the glares from the receptionist and physios. You had hoped to catch Ona or Alexia before training, to pull them aside and explain everything to them (hopefully without crying).

“So, you’re transferring then?” Lucy called, her face stern and eyes blazing in anger. You hummed, confused and slightly shocked at her tone, but opted to walk straight to your cubby. “Oh, no, you don’t. Turn around.” Your headphones were still blasting music, so you never heard her. Lucy grabbed your shoulder roughly, swinging you back around to face. “What the fuck,” you flinched, pulling your headphones out and taking a step back. “You don’t get to do this. Not after I watched Ona cry herself to sleep ‘cos you were missing.” You felt your heart sink. Had she really done that? “I-” You felt guilty. You really, really felt horrible about what you had done to your … friends … ex-friends … teammates … ex-teammates. Ona especially. She was your best friend, and to see her puffy eyes and solemn expression from across the room made you feel even worse. And it bubbled up into anger. Mainly at yourself, but you couldn’t help but explode when Lucy started shouting. “Got nothing to say, have you?” She took a step closer. “We’re not good enough for you, now? You’ve found yourself a little girlfriend, and suddenly, your friends aren’t enough.” You squared up to her. “Leave Lena out of this,” you said menacingly, matching her energy. If she wanted a fight, she'd get one. “Please, you’re a fucking joke. You don’t get to waltz back in here like nothing happened. You were missing for 4 days. Not a single text to us to tell us what was going on.” “I don’t have to tell you everything.” She was right, though, and you knew it. A simple message to someone, anyone, to let them know would have solved a lot of issues. “What about Ona? Is she no longer your best friend? Or Ale, the woman who took you in when you first arrived?” She pressed. You were basically nose-to-nose at this point. “Why did you even bother coming back?” You recoiled as if she had just slapped you. It stung like she had. Why had you bothered coming back? Barça didn’t want you. And now the team didn’t want you either. “Fuck you, Bronze.” Your voice cracked slightly, your jaw clenched, and your mouth set in a harsh line. You were trying really hard not to cry. “Are you trying to burn all your bridges before you abandon us? If you are, it’s working.” She looked you up and down, the disdain in her eyes obvious. “You don’t deserve to be here anymore, let alone have us as friends.” You knew Lucy got angry when she was hurt, but hearing those words confirmed everything you already thought about yourself and this situation. Lena had spent days trying to glue your fragile mind back together, and with a single sentence, you had shattered into a thousand pieces again.

You hadn’t noticed the crowd gathering around you, the semi-circle blocking your exit and forcing you to keep up your façade. To most of the others, Lucy just echoed their hurt feelings, saying precisely what they were thinking. But Alexia and Ona could see the pain swirling behind your eyes before Lucy started the argument. The pair of them could also see your heartbreak as the words echoed around the silent changing rooms despite the mask you had on. You took a moment to gather yourself. Taking a breath, you said lowly. “You know what? If this is how you treat everyone that’s leaving, I’m glad Barça aren’t renewing my contract. I don’t want to be on a pitch with someone that thinks so little of me.”

I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3<3<3

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thegoldencontracts · 2 days

Text

Prefect

Azul is your boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend, as in, person you're in intimate and romantic relations with. So why, just why is he still calling you Prefect?

Notes: credit to @/cephalo-punk for the idea... Im sorry for my sins, reader is the Prefect, GN reader as usual

You and Azul had a wonderful relationship, really. Wonderful, and romantic, and everything. It was safe to say you two were closing, dating, even. Yes, you two were dating. For months now.

And what did people usually call their partners whom they were dating? Their first name, maybe a petname. They usually dropped the titles.

But not Azul. No, Azul could never drop the title you held. Why? Who knew?

"Prefect!" Azul's voice pulled you out of your frying pan of rage only to plummet you into its fire. Ah, yes, that 'nickname'. That damned nickname. "Would you like to dine together this weekend? My treat, of course. I secured a reservation to that restaurant you kept ogling on our trips together. I know, I truly am a benevolent soul."

And yet, immediately your rage was quelled. Azul was asking to take you out on a date. And especially this week - Finals' must've left him completely swamped, no? But he did. And he even got a reservation to that one place that you somehow forgot the name of! Sure, you didn't remember the name, but you did remember that those reservations were super hard to get.

So, did the Prefect thing really matter that much?

"I'll gladly go on a date with you, Azul!" You said. Azul's lips jutted out ever so slightly.

"A 'date' is one way to call it, I suppose," he said. "Really, Prefect-"

Nevermind. In an instant, your mood was dampened by that stupid term of address. He loved you enough to go through all this trouble, and you really appreciated that, honest! You just wanted him to use your goddamn name!

Wait. You had an idea.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop teasing you," you said. "Housewarden Ashengrotto."

Azul looked at you in confusion.

"Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

"That's you, silly!" You said, like you didn't know the real reason behind his question.

Azul's face puckered up in displeasure, like he'd just eaten a sour lemon. He stayed silent for a while before speaking up again.

"Have I done something to offend you, Prefect?" He asked.

"Nope!" You said. "Why, Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

Azul's eye twitched.

"You've decided not to call me by my name all of a sudden," he said.

You smirked.

"Well, since you don't call me by mine, I thought we'd be on even footing!"

The realization hit Azul like a truck. His eyes widened, only to narrow as his cheeks flushed in an indignated pout.

"W-Well- that's different, er-" Azul sighed. "Does it truly upset you that greatly?"

You couldn't help but soften up a bit at that. He really didn't mean you any harm, even if you did still think it was uncharacteristically stupid of him.

"How does it feel when I call you Housewarden?" You asked. His face darkened.

"Point taken."

"Good," you said. "So, why don't you try calling me by my name?"

Azul's eyes widened.

"E-Eh?"

"You heard me. We should be on even footing, right, Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

Azul gulped. If he wanted you to call him by his name again, he'd have to do this, and obviously he was going to, since it was clearly important to you, but...

It was hard.

"O-Of course," he said. "E-Er, Pre- ah-"

And then he said your name. Without "-san" added as an honorific. Nothing of the sort, just your name.

You smiled.

"Yes, Azul?"

And just hearing his name again made Azul beam.

"Why don't we go to your place? It's getting rather late."

"I would love that."

#azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x you #twst x reader

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sturniolo-simp4life · 2 days

Text

Hard to say- Matt sturniolo

overview- you and the sturniolo’s have been best friends since you remember, but you’ve always had a thing for Matt. When a new girl, Abby, moves into town, things between you and Matt change.

warnings- none. No smut yet.

pt.2

“y/n! If you don’t get your ass downstairs, we are gonna leave you at home.”

Me and the triplets were about to go to the movies. Unfortunately, nick wasn’t being very patient with me.

“nick wait! Im almost done!”

I rushed down the stairs, only to see Chris and Matt sitting on the couch.

“finally,” Chris grumbled. “Shut up Chris,” I retorted. “It just a girl thing.”

Matt chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

Butterflies crept under my skin as Matt’s eyes locked with mine. He gave me a smirk.

“sorry Chris, im taking your spot.” I stepped into the front seat of the car, right next to Matt.

Chris groaned. “Why can’t you just sit in the back with nick! Now I have to deal with him.” “Shut up and sit down Chris,” nick said.

Me and Matt laughed at their bickering.

“I’m so fucked,” I said. “He gave that test in English next week and I haven’t even studied.”

“fuck- thanks for reminding me,” Matt grumbled. Matt and I had our 4 core classes together, so we always studied with each other.

“study session tomorrow?” You asked. “Sure I’m down,” he said back.

“you’re sleeping over tonight right?” “Yeah,” I replied.

“that movie was ass! Absolute waste of money.” nick was going on about how bad it was.

“Nick, it wasn’t that bad,” I said.

he scoffed. “Stop lying to yourself y/n. It ass.” You giggled.

“I hate to ask, but why am I sleeping over on a school night? You know how that goes.”

every single time I slept over we wouldn’t go to sleep until midnight, and that wasn’t exactly ideal because of school.

“it’s fine. We’ll go to bed early this time, trust.”

that didn’t exactly happen, because all four of you woke up late the next morning.

you and Matt were in your class the next morning, still feeling a bit tired from last night.

Suddenly the bell rang, but not to much later, a girl walked in the door. You had never seen her before.

“this is classroom 308 right?” She asked. The teacher nodded.

“you must be the new student,” the teacher said. “Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

everybody’s attention was on her now.

“Um hi I guess. My name is Abagail, but you guys can call me Abby. I just moved here from Pennsylvania.”

You hated to admit it, but you envied her. She hand beautiful brown curls, which you assumed were natural, and she had piercing olive green eyes.

her tan skin looked smooth and glowing.

“Alright Abby, thank you for joining us. You can take a seat next to Matt. Matt, please raise your hand.”

you looked next to your were Matt was sitting as he raised her hand. She smiled and said a brief hello to him, as he did back to her.

although you were sitting right next to Matt, you couldn’t help but feel jealous of her.

you kept watching her.

every so often, so would tap Matt’s shoulder and “ask” him questions about the lesson.

Your eyes narrowed when they started laughing about something. Her hand made its way to his shoulder and you felt yourself get even more angry.

who did this girl think she was?

The bell rung finally, and everyone was off to 2nd period.

you shared 2nd period with Matt too, because it was math. You would usually walk with him but he was talking with Abby.

you walked over to hook and stood beside him.

“my next class is math,” Abby said while looking at her schedule. “Room 420. Do you know that room?”

“Yeah that’s my next class too.” Matt said. Abby smiled. “Do you think you can walk me?”

Matt looked over to you. “Can I walked Abby to her class y/n?” “Yeah sure,” you said in a fake voice.

you glared at them as they walked out the door side by side, laughing with each other.

in math, you sat next to your best friend ally. She was babbling about some guy she met at the mall recently, but you weren’t listening to her.

your eyes were fixated on Matt and Abby, who sat next to each other, again.

“y/n!” Ally snapped a finger in front of your face. You blinked and looked at her. “Huh? What?”

“You’ve been staring at Matt and the new girl for the past 15 minutes.”

“I know that,” you grumbled. Ally just laughed. “If you’re so jealous you should just tell him.”

you sighed and shook your head. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“then tell me, how does it work?” You sighed again. “I just don’t wanna ruin our friendship. I mean, we’ve known each other since elementary school.”

you looked at him briefly and looked back at ally. “If I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same way, it won’t just ruin things between me and him, but with his brothers too.”

ally didn’t looked convinced. “What if he does like you back?”

“well that’s very unlikely,” you grumbled.

Ally sighed. “Well, I hope things go well between you two.” “me too,” you said.

the bell rung for lunch.

pt1. of the series!

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tonysbed · 2 days

Text

Prom Paddock queen | MV1

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

!Triggering Content! ED!

Summary: Max tries to be there for you while your whole world evolves around calories

A/n: Went with the most “popular” ED because the request didn’t specify. If it’s wrong just send me another request through with more details, I love you all!!❤️

(listened to Prom Queen by Beach bunny while writing)

mental health masterlist | main masterlist

You had been this way before you got with Max. That’s why it took him a little while to realise what was happening right in front of him. The first time he realised was when he had found the pancakes he made for you in the bin.

It would’ve been fine if it hadn’t been the 3rd time. He sighed and went up the stairs, not entirely sure how to proceed.

He knocked on the bedroom door “Schatje?” You hum and he opened the door, seeing you on the bed with a book. He closed the door behind him.

“How have you been?” He stays near the door. You set down your book “Good. How was the meeting?”

“Good.Always the same you know” You nod, smiling and looking down to your book.

“How did the pancakes taste?” You smile “Great. Thank you” You say and focus back on your book.

“Stop lying, please” You tilt your head at him “What? You think I wouldn’t tell you if they were shit?” You scoff and close your book.

“Baby, I saw them in the bin. All of them“ You opened your mouth to protest but couldn’t. He sighed and sat down on the bed.

His blue eyes bore into yours. Your nails picking at your skin. Max pulled your hands into his. Not a once of anger on his face.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong? What do you need me to do?Ill do anything” You shake your head “I can’t ask that of you. This is my problem” He closed his eyes for a moment.

“It’s not. We’re a team. Your problems are mine.” His voice was stern yet somehow gentle. You fidget with your fingers.

“Schatje, please” You shake your head “This is my business.” You say and storm off into the bathroom.

His steps are fast behind you but don’t reach you before your able to lock the bathroom. You hear him stopping in front of the door.

You slide down the door, clutching at your stomach. A tear escaped your eyes “Open the door. Please, baby” You hear how his hand touches the door. You don’t answer him.

“Don’t make me open this damn door. I’ve done it before, you know that. I know how to. Please, Schatje” You sob “Please go away” He squeezes his eyes shut, and his forehead met the wood.

He peeled himself from the door but doesn’t walk away before saying “Don’t do anything stupid, please”

An half hour later you open the door, expecting Max to sit there but he wasn’t. You found him on the couch, mindlessly changing the channels, nothing catching his interest.

You climbed onto the couch and laid your head in his lap. His finger immediately tangled into your hair “I’m sorry”

“I know it’s hard but you gotta let me help you. I know you hate accepting help but I’m not asking you right now. I am gonna help you no matter what you say.”

You nod, tears rising in your eyes “Come up here, schatje” He opened his arms and you sit on his lap. His arms engulfed you into a firm hug full of love and safety.

It will be hard but you will have him through it all.

A/n: Don’t like it. But yeah..🧍🏼‍♀️

not proofread

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagine #eating disoder trigger warning #tw eating issues #mental health

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azrakaban · 1 day

Note

Heyyy how are youu?

I saw your resquests are open and i wanted to ask:

Enemies to lover with the boys? Mattheo pretty please and reader being a hufflepuff?

Like the whole you meet and both hate each other from the start for years because reader is always in her own world reading caring for magical creatures but she isnt afraid to talk back to them when they're arguing (like calling them players or returning their insults) until one of them as a 'fuck it' moment and kisses the reader and confess their love?

Sorry that was long thank you for taking time to read and thank you if you do write it 🤭💋

I'm great my lovely! Having a good day? Did you drink and eat 2day? :)

actually fr giggled and blushed when making this tbh, have so many Hufflepuff friends so basing this off of them <3 Also totally happy to write for Mattheo hes so bbg !

Careful - Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo Riddle didn't like you. That was clear to anyone who saw you two interact, and honestly, there never seemed to be any kind of reason behind it.

The assumption was just basic house prejudice, but Mattheo was fine with other Hufflepuffs, so why were you so 'special'? You knew he had it in him to be nice, heck, you'd harboured a crush on him since third year, so why now had he decided to be an ass?

Maybe it was that you had a habit of tripping over certain uneven flagstones when reading, or accidentally smashing bottles in potions because you'd spotted a niffler. But you couldn't help being clumsy, right?

Everytime something like that happened, Mattheo would give a sigh and eye roll, which made you upset, naturally. It's not like you wanted to fall over!

As a result you would confront him and he would say the obvious. 'you're so uncoordinated it's almost painful to watch.' Well unfortunately for you, it actually was painful.

So you could imagine the reaction when Snape paired you for potions.

"Careful."

"Shut up, I am being."

A quiet sigh.

"CAREFUL!" He threw out a hand to steady a jar of frogspawn you had nearly knocked over. You glared at him.

"It wasn't my fault, it was in an awkward place..." You said quietly.

Mattheo rolled his eyes, with that same sigh. "I'm sure it was."

You rolled your eyes, mocking him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Mocking me? Real mature n/n." You mocked him again, and he copied you.

"Mr Riddle, Ms L/N, something you'd like to share?" Snape said acidly. You quickly stopped, shaking your heads.

"No sir."

Once he had turned away, Mattheo muttered to you. "Your fault."

You gasped, offended. "It was yours, whore!" You replied indignantly.

Mattheo scoffed, trying to continue work on the potion. You pushed him to the side, and he looked at you in shock for a second, before pushing you out the way.

You did the same, and it turned into a war, before you both pushed at the same time and ended up on the floor.

"L/N, Riddle, Detention." Snape said greasily. "And leave the class."

You both packed your things, flushing, and left.

"Your fault." He murmured, smirking.

"Honestly fuck you." You replied.

"Careful."

"Shut up."

"CAREFUL!"

You turned, glaring. "How about, until told otherwise, I'll be careful?"

Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Good idea."

You two were stuck in detention together, polishing trophies. Mattheo sniggered.

"You should get one for falling over, your face seems to have magnetic attraction to the floor." You bit back an exasperated scream.

"Look, I don't get why you hate me Mattheo, but just stop!"

"y/n-"

"No, no, just shut up! Can you just stop?"

"Y/N-"

"I don't like it when I fall over, it hurts, but you seem to be a sadist on some level-"

"Okay fuck it, I'm just going to shut you up."

Mattheo kissed you then, cupping your face in his hands, pulling back after a few seconds.

"I don't like it when you fall over either, you know, y/n." He said, rolling his eyes. "I can tell it hurts, so it irritates me that you're not more careful! You get hurt, Y/N, I see the bruises, and that hurts me too. Just... look out for yourself? For me?" He pleaded with you.

You froze, trying to process.

"Okay so... you don't hate me?" You said, confused.

"No actually, I kiss all the people I hate to shut them up. Oh look, here comes Potter, I'd better give him a snog. NO, Y/N, I DON'T HATE YOU." He laughed.

You giggled quietly, then smirked. "You like me." You said in a sing song voice.

Mattheo flushed slightly. "Do not." He grumbled.

"Youuuuu like meeee." You sang, giggling.

He kissed you again, effectively shutting you up as you kissed him back.

"You like me too though, y/n, let's not forget that." He smirked.

"You know you can't just kiss me every time you need me to be quiet." He laughed at that.

"Don't worry, I plan on kissing you a lot more than that. Though you do have quite a tendency to yap." He reminded you.

You poked your tongue out, moving back to the trophies to continue your detention, and nearly tripping over another wobbly flagstone.

"CAREFUL!"

Love and thanks for the request, hope this was what you were looking for, remember to eat and drink water <3

#Azzie's thoughts #harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherins #slytherin boys headcanons #slytherin boys fluff #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #draco malfoy

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calaisreno · 3 days

Text

Bottles

Note: I have two stories today because I couldn't make up my mind.

This one is sad (alcoholism, Sad John, Not Dead Sherlock, reunion, reconciliation, rehab. No MCD). The next one (Imagine) is much happier.

887 words / Prompt: Empty

He’s forgotten where he lives.

He hasn’t forgotten the little house in Clapham where his bed is, but as usual, his feet have taken him to Baker Street. That only happens when he’s been drinking. Well, it happens all the time these days.

Pockets, pockets. He still has a key, but he can’t find it.

“Lost it,” he says to himself. This seems true, and certainly describes his entire life these days. Since. After.

Lost it. He’s lost it.

It’s cold, almost November. Maybe it is November. If he closes his eyes— he does— he remembers another November. Back. Before.

Maybe he doesn’t have a bed now. He doesn’t have a job, so it’s quite possible that the house he remembers, the one with the bed and his clothes and a telly that doesn’t work, maybe that’s gone too. All his stuff, gone.

Sherlock gone.

He’ll cry if he thinks about that.

He’s already is crying.

The ground is suddenly closer than he thought. That’s because he’s sitting on the kerb outside 221B Baker Street. His face is wet and the ground is cold and he doesn’t have a place to sleep and all his stuff is gone.

“Why did you die?” If he were sober, he’d just ask inside of his head, and the Sherlock that lives there would say something cryptic.

You’re worried they’re right.

Heroes don’t exist.

Alone protects me.

It’s my note.

Mind Palace Sherlock. No, John has never had a Mind Palace. Nothing so grand. He doesn’t have a palace, not even one tiny bedsit now.

If he went home, if he had a home, he could sit in his chair and close his eyes and pretend Sherlock didn’t die.

He pulls the bottle out of his pocket. Nearly empty. He could drink it all in one swallow.

No, he already has.

The bottle clinks on the pavement. He tries to be careful when he puts them in the recycling bin, not let them clink against one another. That sound bothers him, shames him that there are so many.

Ashamed, he sits on the kerb, his feet in the road. Maybe he should just lie down in the road. Nobody would be surprised if he died that way. Better than a bullet. Better than drinking himself to death.

Rising to his feet, he sways. It’s a bad idea, standing up, but he wants to lie in the middle of the road and go to sleep. And never wake up.

He grasps at the air, trying to regain his balance, and finds he’s leaning against a car. A black car. The door opens and someone gets out.

Well, this will be embarrassing. For both of us.

Mycroft doesn’t pick up drunks. When necessary, he has people who do that for him. People who do his dirty work, clean up the vomit and wipe the blood off the upholstery.

No, they’re not getting into the car. The dirty work bloke is carrying him towards the door. And there’s Mycroft with the key, opening it.

“I’ve got you, John,” the dirty work bloke says. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”

He smells so familiar. That coat. “Sherlock,” he whispers. “Don’t be dead.”

He’s floating up. Up, up. It feels nice. The way home used to feel.

So gently, he’s laid down in a bed. A hand strokes his hair. “John.”

He’s crying. “Stop being dead.”

“Hush, John. I’m not dead. Remember? I came back.”

“But… but.” He’s not in the street. Clue: no cars. Soft. Warm. Ah, bed.

Someone is putting a pillow behind his head. It’s nice.

“John, sit up and have some water.”

“I got married,” he announces. “Did I get married?”

“You did.”

It’s the voice he remembers, the one that gives him shivers. “Am I dead?”

“No, you’re not.” A hand on his hair. “Hush, you’re safe. Rest now.”

In the other room, they’re talking softly to one another.

“How many times, Sherlock? He needs medical care. Rehab.”

“No, Mycroft. No hospitals. I’ll take care of him. Molly’s got Rosie for now, and Harry’s coming tomorrow.”

“Don’t be selfish, Sherlock. Are you sure this is what he’d want?”

Their voices are quieter now, further away.

“I have to fix this. I want to.”

“Well, then. I’ll leave you to it. Call me.”

In the silence, he drifts. He and Sherlock were in a pub, he thinks.

No, they were playing a game. I’m you, aren’t I?

He’s chasing a hound through the mist…

Sherlock is standing on the roof...

A gunshot, and he runs… don’t be dead…

Stay with me…

Goodbye, John…

He sobs. “Why are you still dead? I asked you to come back.”

He feels himself gathered into strong arms. “I heard you. I’m here.”

“Every time you say that, you leave me. Every time, you’re dead.”

He touches the face he loves. His fingers come away wet. Sherlock is crying.

“Please, John. You have to stop this. Stay with me, please.”

I’m not the one who leaves, he thinks. I’m the one who’s alone.

“All right.” Sighing, he leans into the vision. They’re standing under a starry sky, and it’s beautiful. Sherlock is beautiful.

“I love you,” he says, smiling up at him. “Always meant to say. I love you.”

Sherlock kisses him “I love you too. Stay with me.”

Please read the next one too! Imagine. A 1024-word fixit for Series 3-4.

#mayprompts2024

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marionette-j2x · 2 days

Text

"A Breach"

Curator: "Tsk! Virus detected breaching the 5th firewall encryption. It is heading towards the Parable's coding as we speak."

Narrator: "Not on my watch-"

Stanley: "[W-wait, wait! Can I come too?]"

Narrator: "Absolutely NOT. You stay right here and do whatever else you do whenever there's a breach in the system."

Stanley: "[That's the thing! There's nothing to do here! With the stories on hold, I can't just sit around and do nothing! I wanna help too! I'm just as a part of this Parable as everyone else here. And as much as I loathed this place sometimes, it's also my home.]"

Narrator: *grumbling* "Oh Bollocks! FINE. If you're so incessant. BUT I am NOT going to save your sorry arse if things go south."

Stanley: unfazed "[Sure, sure. Can we go now?]"

Mariella: "Any time now, you two! Virus is already outside the parable!"

Narrator & Stanley: Immediately teleports out of the Parable

BONUS:

Narrator: "Nasty little buggers aren't they? Are you sure you still wanted to help, Stanley? Hmm~? I could snap my fingers and bring you back inside the parable with the others where it's nice and safe because your strong and wonderful Narrator had valiantly fought the treacherous beasts of the-"

Stanley: *gulps nervously* "[No! M-My decision is final!]"

Narrator: *shrugs* "Suit yourself. It looks like this is going to be quite the handful. Fear not though, dear protagonist! Remember as the saying goes, 'If you can't beat them, beat them with a bat twice as hard'."

Stanley: "[That's not-]"

Narrator: "BATTER UP-!"

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 22 hours

Note

Hi 👋🏻 are you taking requests for the creators child AU.

Could the child be Alhaitham's or maybe Diluc's.

Thank you

The creator had

Such a smart child

WC: ~900

This feels more like a collection of head cannons but enjoy!

I believe Nahida would be able to dull the hit to the archons enough for them to not have a public outbreak like in other scenarios, so most of the gossip around is from people of sumeru.

“Stop speaking like that of the acting great sage! The matra will get you punished if they hear you talking like that”

“I'm not claiming anything! I'm just saying it's weird how much time he spent around them”

“They were reviewing the structure of the akademiya”

“Sure, and my wife and I were just studying so many years ago”

“Profesor…”

"that is why my daughter was finishing highschool when we both published our thesis. We were 38 but you get the point"

"professor please... Stop..."

It has been a running rumor for a few months, but nobody really believes it, the stone faced great sage and their welcoming grace? No, never, impossible. There are scholars attempting to refute it but their attempts are short-lived as a few months later you settle back in sumeru, and your lazyly hanging robe you wear now is pushed slightly forward around the abdomen, just enough for it to be an untold fact.

“Why am I returning? I guess it just felt right, given everything” slowly after the theory took traction.

On the later months the baby gets calm whenever he is read books, the kicking stopping for as long as anyone recited paragraphs of dense knowledge, it was a common occurrence for you to tag along thesis defenses, something that professors enjoyed the opportunity of chat you up and students suddenly put delays because of sickness on masse.

“I wonder why they are all so nervous to defend their statement! I don't even ask them questions for them to be scared of me!”

“I think regardless of what you did or didn't do any of them would be at ease”

“And I heard they sit through thesis defenses and lectures because the child is calm hearing long speeches”

“I heard that too! I even heard that once they summoned one of the great sages to read a book so they could fall asleep”

“Really! Could it be…” the teen girl looks at her friend mischievously “great sage al haitham?” Making her friend look away feigning not knowing.

°•°

“I'm extremely sorry for calling you so late, Haitham” you lay on your bed, back flush against the wall. The covers on your lap make little to cover the almost watermelon sized bump “I attempted to read to see if he calmed down on his own but when I stop he starts kicking up a storm”

Alhaitham drags your vanity stool to your bedside, a soft creaking sound coming from the friction between the woods. He just hums as he skims the bookshelf “don't fret so much, it's only natural for me to do this” his fingers dance softly caressing the spines of various books ranging from Inazuma novellas to published investigation on bird care “what has been working best? Early language dictionary? Transcripts of old manuscripts?”

“alchemical botany has been doing alright”

“great, it's coming out to be a spantamad or amurta. I'm sure Tighnari and Cyno will be elated with the news” he rolls his eyes and pulls out a leather bound book with vine engraving.

“Aww, is someone jealous?”

“I'm just saying that something like ‘development of runic language during the last 300 years’ might be more interesting” you just snicker “weren't you attempting to sleep? Close your eyes”

You side down the pillows with a smile on your lips “fine, if you don't want to read alchemical botany why don't you use the white book?” as he glances over he read the simple title ‘weight distribution in columns depending on materials’ and sighs heavily.

“Spantamad might not be so bad.”

There is a small whisper in the last few months that the child could be meant to be one of the great sages but the matra keeps it down when someone starts with it.

When he is born Alhaitham reads to his son some of the books he kept from his parents.

The one year old is perched on his lap, leaning against one of his arms while they both look at the book, one of them reading attentively the words and explaining some concepts while the other is attempting to fall asleep.

“I doubt he is truly listening to you”

“You would be surprised by how much the biology faculty showed children can learn before school”

“I believe they meant before the 5 years mark, not 6 months”

Maybe even wants you to do something similar, it could be an essay, thesis or even storybook but he would want it to have some banter between you two or little comments like “it's good that you remembered to spell correctly postganglionic fibers, I don't have to correct you anymore”

He uses kaveh as an underpaid nanny just plopping the toddler on his lap and leaving without saying a word. He does stop when his son's drawings start to feature more houses and structures than people.

“Are we sure he is mine?”

“For the sixth time, yes. He is a carbon copy of you”

When your baby grows he is the smartest of his class, reciting everything his father read to him since before his birth, even if he refuses to acknowledge it al haitham is really proud of his son and his little shelf with math Olympics medals or the certificate he got from the first place in a writing competition.

Even then the moment your son turns 18 and has to decide what branch he wants to go into is the hardest week of his life, dreading the possibility of another architect in his life. He is quite happy when he choses spantamad, even if he would have like him to go for haravatat.

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #genshin x reader #self aware genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #gi sagau #x reader #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham

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thisissirius · 1 day

Text

spoilers, spoilers, spoilers. i'm obsessed with the idea of eddie's breakdown.

supplication eddie/buck, chris (past tommy/buck). stylistic depictions of eddie's mental state. hurt, hurt, hurt and comfort. in which eddie loses chris, himself, and his tentative hold on his mental state. buck's there for him, for them, as always.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Buck doesn’t answer.

Eddie doesn’t know who he is without Chris. Actually. He does. He does know. He’s been without Chris and he doesn’t want to be that person again. Except this time it’s Chris that leaves. Chris went with his parents, looking back once, Eddie’s heart breaking at his feet. With Buck’s hand on his shoulder, his father’s admonishments ringing in his ears, and his son walking away, Eddie didn’t think there was much farther to fall.

Frank stares at him.

Eddie stares back.

“Eddie. I can’t help you if you don’t help me.”

Eddie says nothing.

A sigh. “Perhaps Buck—”

“No,” Eddie says immediately.

Buck is happy. Buck and Tommy, two of the best guys Eddie knows, are together and happy. Buck smiles more, lives more, and feels more comfortable in his skin.

Now that Cap’s out of hospital and recovering, everything as close to normal as it’s gonna get, Buck’s living for himself for the first time in—Eddie doesn’t even know.

What he does know is this; Buck can’t help, shouldn’t help.

Eddie can fix himself, can make this work without crawling to his best friend to help.

The house is too empty? Eddie will just make sure he’s rarely in it. Carla checks in on him? Eddie will just make sure he misses her calls. His parents messaging to tell him—well, those he’ll at least look at, because it might be something about Chris.

Eddie is fine, fine, fine.

Eddie remembers standing in a shop with Chris and Ana and feeling his heart race, pound, cascade away from him. He remembers thinking heart attack and being so mad at himself when he realised it was a panic attack instead.

Now, standing at his kitchen sink with a hand pressed to his chest, he’s just as mad at himself. He can’t even keep control, can’t stop himself from feeling Chris’ absence, from the press of loneliness.

Frank looks him in the eye when he says, “I can’t sign you back to work, Eddie.”

Eddie doesn’t snap until he’s sitting in his car. There’s Chris’ discarded bag on the floor on the passenger side. A takeout carton shoved into the gap between door and seat. Touches of his son everywhere. Touches of Buck, still, in his car.

He can’t go back to work. He doesn’t have a son. His best friend is—

Eddie is fine, fine, fine.

“The station will still be there, Eddie,” Bobby says gently.

Fuck you, Eddie thinks silently, because it’s not Bobby’s fault. Nothing will sill be there.

Buck glares at him. “When were you going to say something?”

Two weeks leave. For now. Until Eddie can figure out what the hell is going on.

“I’m going to see Chris,” Eddie says, injecting enough enthusiasm into his voice that he hopes Buck can’t read it. “I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but—"

He’s lying to Buck.

To Buck.

God.

“I’m sure it’ll be good for you both,” Buck says, frown giving way to a smile. He has a date with Tommy in about twenty minutes. Eddie knows because he saw the plan in his phone. “I’ll have to join you next time. I miss him.”

Eddie nods, because he doesn’t trust himself to speak. Buck will have to leave soon if he’s to make his date with Tommy and—

“Right,” Buck says, slipping his phone into his pocket. He pauses, because of course he does, looking at Eddie. “You okay?”

“I will be.” It’s not a lie; one day, probably, Eddie will be fine. “Go, have fun.”

Buck grins, laughs a little, bashful, and god, Eddie loves that he’s so happy, that he’s secure. He deserves it. “Thanks. I’ll speak to you when you get back?”

Eddie pulls him into a hug, because what else can he do. Maybe he clings a little too hard, maybe Buck presses back just as tight because some part of him senses something. Forcing himself to let go, Eddie finds his smile a touch more real because it’s Buck. “Go. I’ll be alright.”

“You better,” Buck says quietly. He gives Eddie one more glance and then bounces out of the house. Bounces. Child.

It takes a while for Eddie to move away from the door.

The house is quiet.

The house is lonely.

The house is empty.

Eddie’s empty.

Eddie’s lonely.

Eddie’s quiet.

Eddie’s phone is cradled in his hand.

The screen flashes and he knows he should answer, knows he should do something. Pick up? Speak to whoever it is?

Chris?

Buck?

Eddie closes his fist around it and drops it onto the floor.

It’s fine.

Eddie’s fine.

Eddie’s

fine, fine, fine.

“Eddie?”

Something bangs, a splinter of wood.

Eddie’s door, probably.

Did he lock it?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

“God, what—”

The voice is familiar. Cherished.

“Eddie, I need you to open your eyes.”

Why.

“Please. For me?”

Who.

“It’s Buck, Eddie. It’s me. Look at me. Please, look at me.”

It’s an effort to open an eye.

“That’s it.”

Buck looks—good. Panicked, desperate. Good.

Eddie doesn’t feel good. He doesn’t feel right.

“Buck,” he croaks.

“God, Eddie, you,” Buck looks over his shoulder. The bag is still by the door where he left it. “Chris called. He said you hadn’t called—you lied to me? About going to see him?”

Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Buck shakes him a little, fingers against his chin. “Eddie?”

“I miss him,” Eddie says, his voice breaking. “But I—I can’t let him see me, not like this.”

“It’s been two weeks.” Buck looks stricken. “Eddie, Eddie, tell me you haven’t been here alone for two weeks?”

Eddie can’t. It would be a lie and he doesn’t want to do that to Buck again.

“Eddie.” Buck’s face crumples, tears in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You’re happy,” Eddie whispers. He touches Buck’s face. His hand is shaking. Why is it shaking? “I didn’t want to mess that up.”

“God,” Buck says again. Eddie should tell him he shouldn’t blaspheme, but then he’s being manhandled into a sitting position. Arms come around him. They’re strong, Buck’s strong.

Eddie opens his mouth.

Closes it.

“Buck,” he manages eventually. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Buck sobs, a hand coming to rest against the back of Eddie’s head. He’s cradled. Held. Loved. “I’m here, Eddie.”

Eddie breaks.

His feelings cascade, break, and he folds into Buck, buries his face in Buck’s shoulder and cries.

Buck holds him, protects him, whispers.

I’ve got you.

Let it out.

It will be alright.

Buck is watching him.

Eddie’s skin crawls. “Buck—”

“If you ever lie to me again,” Buck starts, cuts himself off.

“You remember that puzzle we did with Chris a few weekends ago?”

Frowning, Buck nods. “Yeah.”

“There were pieces missing,” Eddie says, staring down at his hands. They’re curled around his glass, but it feels like he’s not touching anything, like he’s not holding onto it at all. Maybe it will fall. He tries not to let it. “I feel like the missing pieces.”

Blowing out a breath, Buck looks down at his phone. He holds it out to Eddie. It says Frank and the betrayal is swift. Before Eddie can say anything, Buck says, “Eddie, take it,” and his voice is strong, unyielding.

“Okay,” Eddie says. “Okay.”

Eddie doesn’t know who he is without Chris.

He doesn’t want to learn, but he has to. Has to listen to Frank, to speak, to unwrap himself, to talk, to talk, to listen.

Buck is waiting in the parking lot, leaning against the car.

“You have a date with Tommy,” Eddie says slowly.

“Nope,” Buck says, standing straight. He looks happy, still, but the words coming out of his mouth; “I’m a free man.”

Eddie panics, feels something else cascade away from him.

Immediately, Buck is in his space. “Eddie, no, hey no.”

Hands on his face, thumbs against the curve of his cheeks. Buck’s eyes boring into his. “Buck.”

“Tommy and I, what we had was fun, good for me, but you, god Eddie, you’re everything to me.”

Everything.

Can he be everything when he doesn’t even know himself?

“Let’s go home,” Buck says, “call Chris.”

Chris.

“Dad!” Chris is smiling, clutching he iPad and looking happy.

Is it Texas?

Being away from Eddie?

A hand rests on the back of his neck.

“Buck,” Chris says, just as enthusiastic. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, buddy,” Buck says, dropping into the seat next to Eddie. “Eddie?”

“Chris,” Eddie says, and feels something slide into place. He’s still a father, still here. “Are you having fun in Texas?”

Chris goes quiet, eyes dropping. “They said you were in hospital.”

Eddie closes his eyes. “Chris—”

“He was,” Buck says quietly. He’s done this before. Too many times. Eddie owes so much, so much, he can never be worthy of whatever brought Buck into his life. “But he’s home and I’m taking care of him.”

“Good,” Chris says decisively. “I want to see you smile, Dad, and mean it.”

Choked, Eddie doesn’t know what to say. The fingers on his neck stroke, soothe, and Eddie breathes. “I will, Chris. Promise.”

Chris beams. “I wanna come back home soon, Dad.”

“You will,” Eddie promises, because he may have broken, scattered, but slowly he’s piecing himself back together. “We’ll have a party when you get back.”

A cheer and Chris is off, talking about Texas and their family, and it washes over Eddie. He grounds himself; Buck’s hand, the steady cadence of his son’s voice, the house that feels comfortable in the moment.

Buck kisses him softly, cradles his head in his hands.

Eddie feels cherished.

Safe.

“Buck,” he says.

“Sweetheart,” Buck replies, like a benediction. “Let’s go get our son.”

Yes, Eddie’s heart sings. Yes, yes, yes.

.the end

i'm so emotional dlshfdsjfhkj.

ao3 link

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #fic by me #i love them #911 spoilers

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renranram · 2 days

Note

I just need to say I absolutely love your account 🤭 I am now definitely a regular on here🙈 I was wondering if you could make a one-shot where Jschlatt and reader meet through a friend and they instantly click with some flirting here and there :))

Party Talking

sfw!

fem!reader ( very awkward n chill )

a typical confession love story wah wah wah

use of y/n!

“ you need to socialize more “ that's the last thing you heard from, ted, your childhood bestfriend stated before dragging you to a party thst you aren't fond of

you sat on the couch, awkward as you drink your fruit punch, hating the taste of beer on your lips

you fumble with your fingers as you sigh out, glancing at the open door but seeing ted playfully glaring at you, not wanting you to leave yet

you groan out in defeat, as you stand up about to refill your fruit punch, before bumping into schlatt, “ hey lil lady, watch where you're going “ he chuckles, “ you alright? “

“ oh uh yeah “ you mumble, slowly nodding as he looks at you before patting your head, “ ive never seen you before, name's schlatt “ schlatt introduces himself

you nod again, stating your name, “ nice to meet you schlatt “ you gave him an awkward smile before chuckling, “ you look tense, did someone drag you here? “ he jokes noticing the empty cup before offering, “ you want fruit punch? i can fill some for you “ he offers as you nod slowly handing him the cup

“ ted dragged me here “ you mutter, “ he said i should socialize “ you added as schlatt scoops some fruit punch, “ oh i get it, you're an introvert? or you just don't like big crowds? “ he asks

“ both “ you reply, muttering a small thank you as you get your cup back, “ … wanna be friends? “ schlatt asks, looking at you as you nod again

“ im sorry if im pretty awkward.. im just not good with talking “ you state as schlatt gave you a small nod, “ i understand, not everyone has good socializing skills “

the two of you sat on the couch again, “ …do you like cats? “ he asks, surprised seeing your eyes sparkle in interest, “ i have a cat actually! “ you smile brightly

and god, the two of you talked and talked for hours until the party was over, “ y/n? y/n? “ ted calls out for you, interrupting yours and schlatt’s conversation as he finally spots you both

“ woah, what do we have here? “ ted raises his eyebrow as you chuckle softly, “ i got my same a new girl friend “ schlatt shrugs, smug, as ted nods, “ im so proud, seeing both of my best friends getting along “ he dramatically faked a sob as schlatt playfully yet gently punches him causing the three of you to laugh

“ but fun’s over now, ill drop you home y/n “ ted hums, showing you that it's 11pm now “ oh… dang “ you slowly stand up watching schlatt as he gave you a reassuring nod, “ well… i guess i gotta go home too “ schlatt states, sighing as he stood up

as you got home, you got confused receiving a chat from a random number

*** ***** ****

< hey! this is schlatt from

the party, i forgot to ask

for your number so i

asked ted 😁

oh hiii >

uhhhh >

this is awkward >

< lol it's totally fine can i

ask you something?

< if you don't mind of course

< haha

yeah of course sure >

< you down… to go with

me? there's a new cat

café opening somewhere

it's fine if you don't want

to go but yeah if you're

free at saturday id be

happy to go with u 😁

oh! >

i'm definitely free >

of course ill go with u! >

what you didn't know was schlatt was staring at your message, kicking his foot like an anime girl, a small blush on his cheeks, rolling around his bed

this continued on for weeks, meet ups here and there, small dates, the both of you just clicked and god it was making schlatt crazy how you two are just friends

but he knows one day he needs to man up, grow some balls, and tell you how he felt and that day, was this one

the two of you stroll at a nearby park, taking both of your cats for a walk, he steals glances at you, he tries to act non chalant but he tremendously fails, him stammering his words, almost slipping, it was getting bad for him

“ you alright jay? “ you ask him, a tone of concern in your voice, “ you look red… like really red “

he breathes out, shaking his head, “ no god hahaha… it's nothing.. it's just so hot “ he mumbles, looking away, “ schlatt… it's winter “ you state as the two of you pauses, chuckling in unison

“ okay okay im sorry “ he breathes out, “ ive been thinking about something” he mumbles, looking at you

“ about what? “ you ask, as you two stop, looking at eachother, was this the right time? is she okay with this? does she even like me back? schlatt mentally asks himself

looking at your eyes with adoration and anxiety, his fingers fumbling, jambo’s and soup’s lead, “ holy fucking shit “ he whispers

“ you okay? “ you ask, gently resting your hand on his arm, thinking he was cold, as schlatt reddens more

“ fuck okay, i need to tell you something okay? “ he breathes out, looking at you intently

“ … okay? “ you chuckle softly, rubbing your hand on his arm

“ i like you y/n… i know it's been weeks of us just meeting but god you're the most amazing woman i know, you're kind, sweet, friendly, just… everything about you is just so lovable it's making me insane to think that we're just friends… im so glad you attended that party because if you didn't i would've never met you- “ he rambles, but you gently cut him off with a peck on his cheek

“ i like you too schlatt “ you smile, “ more like jared “ you manage to tease him, getting a loud laugh at him, lifting you up as he spun you, smiling cheek to cheek, “ holy shit i love you so much “ he rains kisses all over your face, fixing your hair as he smiles at you endearingly

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #schlatt #sleep deprived podcast #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #schlatt fluff #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fluff

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formulawolff · 6 hours

Text

ii. "think about my offer" - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.8k

warnings: cursing, eventual smut, drug & alcohol usage, power imbalances, age gap relationships, flirting, banter, yearning, use of fic tropes, yadayadayada the works

prev. | next.

sypnosis: with the second grand prix of the season well on its way, there is a lot at stake. not only with the race, but other matters as well.

darkness creeps into the motorhome, the lights of the team motorhomes and paddocks illuminating the space. all around you, everything was brushed with a soft white glow.

his fingers remain under your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. in the dim light, you can barely make out the glint swimming in his depths. what was it? desperation? anticipation? you weren’t sure.

toto was a complex man. you were well aware of that.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡

there were days where you would see him glowering around the mercedes paddock, engaged in heated exchanges with engineers. there were moments where you would watch a glimpse of his radiant grin, dimples and all, as mercedes would successfully place or land a podium. of course you had heard the stories about him and his outbursts. his mood seemed to change in a matter of seconds, especially these days.

well, could you really blame him?

mercedes had dominated the world of formula one for so long. with lewis hamilton earning eight world championships, breaking barriers and records along the way, mercedes was the top team. it was a team many drivers dreamed of racing for. when you entered the world of formula one, you could barely get one foot in without hearing the word mercedes or the name lewis hamilton.

that was until redbull had entered the picture in 2022.

now, they were struggling to even maintain second place. hell, there were some races where the team would barely make finish without crashing a car. or suffering from a malfunction.

mercedes was no longer the team. they were on the same level to ferrari and mclaren, fighting tooth and nail for those second and third spots on the podiums.

additionally, you couldn’t help but face the glaring facts. lewis hamilton was leaving mercedes once the 2024 season was complete. their integral driver, the one who had earned them their reputation, their titles, was making an exit.

was there something behind that? something more than the speculations and gossip?

however, you squeeze your eyes shut, sucking in a shaky breath.

“why do you want me on mercedes? these days i feel more like a liability to my team than an asset. i’m sure you just saw the spectacle in the press room.”

“because you’re an inspiration,” the notes in his tone are gentle, “you have inspired so many women to pursue their passions in the world of formula one. not just in terms of racing, but for mechanics, engineers, journalists. you have encouraged so many people to do what they love. you are confident. you know your talents and you utilize them. you have so much fucking potential and it makes me so irrationally angry that james does not see that.”

brows furrowing, your hand grasps toto’s wrist, pulling it away from your face, “does this have something to do with james? it’s common knowledge that you like to hold grudges, toto.”

the principal coughs slightly, “that may have something to do with it.”

“then my answer is no,” venom oozes out of your words, “i’m not some pawn to be used as a ‘fuck you’ to james for leaving mercedes. i’m not taking any part in that. i’m going to need you to leave.”

“that’s fine,” toto nods, responding coolly, “i figured you’d react this way. you are extremely close with james.”

“well no shit,” you mutter, pointing towards the door, “mr. wolff, i am going to ask you kindly once again. please leave.”

“i will,” placing a hand on your shoulder, toto locks eyes with you once more, “think about my deal, little dove. in the meantime, i’ll be waiting.”

“waiting for what?”

“if you’ll accept my deal,” his thumb massages along your collarbone, “you didn’t say yes, but you didn’t say no. i can tell you’re considering it.”

“you’re stubborn,” you retaliate, yet the pressure along your collarbone is relieving, the sore muscles relaxing, “they weren’t wrong about that.”

“i am quite the stubborn man, schatz,” toto can sense your exterior crumbling as his hand glides towards your shoulder blade, massaging gently.

“i know you’re manipulating me with your extremely good looks and nice hands.”

“and yet,” toto’s voice is low and he leans in, mouth hovering by your ear, “you’re falling for it.”

“are you flirting with me, toto wolff?”

“maybe i am,” his breath fans against your ear as his hand delves lower, fingertips brushing along your ribcage, “it seems to be working. look at you, nearly crumpling to your knees at my touch. how long has it been since a man has touched you like this, schatz?”

it takes everything in you not to let out a groan as his hand rests on the small of your back, “y-you need to leave.”

“i will this time,” he murmurs, “but consider my offer, little dove.”

a vibration on the countertop interrupts the principal. snapping out of your trance, you pluck your phone, the illuminated screen notifying you that you had a couple of missed calls, and numerous text messages.

one particularly caught your eye.

it was daniel.

i’m going to be on my way in five. i hope you’re okay. i know you probably don’t want to talk about the press conference very much, but we can just cuddle or something.

“oh fuck.”

toto towers over you, eyes scanning over your phone, “i take it that is my cue to leave.”

“your cue to leave was fifteen minutes ago,” your tone is dry, yet he cracks a smile.

“i hope you know i’m going to keep pestering you until you give me an answer. have a good night, little dove. i’ll see you around, yeah?”

“sure,” you respond. placing two hands on his back, you give him a small push, “you need to go before daniel thinks something weird is going on.”

“is he your boyfriend or something?” toto obliges to your action, the austrian beginning to stroll towards the door of the motorhome.

for him, the exit was merely a few strides. but fuck, was he sticking around. daniel was going to be there in a matter of seconds. who knew what would happen if they happened to cross paths.

similar to toto, daniel was not one to let things go.

“no!” you snap, “leaaaavveee!”

“fine, fine,” toto huffs, “think about my offer, schatz. i will see you around.”

as the principal slides out of the door, you bring a hand to your temple, massaging it.

what the actual fuck just happened?

seconds later, a series of knocks breaks the silence.

“come in!”

daniel peeks his head in, concern painting his features as he notices your state, “why are you still in your suit?”

shrugging you point to your phone, “i was in the middle of an intense phone call when you texted.”

“ah,” he opens the door, a bottle of wine in one hand, a bag in the other, “i brought food, if that’s all right? i figured you would need some after that prick grilled you in the press room.”

“can we talk about something else?” you groan, crossing over to the couch. you flop on it dramatically, earning a laugh from daniel.

“we could talk about how max adores you. i think kelly has some competition.”

“i wouldn’t say that,” you lift your head up, fighting a smile as daniel pulls a series of parcels from the bag, “what did you get?”

“something i knew the american would like,” he teases, ripping open a few wrappers, “a classic cheeseburger with fries. i hope they’re not soggy. i ordered it plain since i know how you are about condiments.”

“no shake with that?” you giggle, sitting up. wrapping your arms around daniel, you bury your head into his shoulder, “it’s a been a fucking day, let me tell you.”

“yeah?” he stuffs a fry in his mouth, “tell me about it.”

“well,” you’re tempted to spill every single detail about what just occurred merely minutes ago. however, as daniel’s gaze meets yours, you hesitate, “i’m concerned about my future with williams.”

“why do you say that?” his eyes narrow, brow furrowing, “you’ve never said anything like that till now. did something happen on the way back from the press conference?”

“no, no, no,” you respond a little too quickly, “i just – i don’t know. you of all people know how quickly things change in this environment and–”

“hey,” daniel lays a hand on your thigh, “i think you need some rest. you’ve had a real fucking busy day. we can talk about your future plans in the morning.”

“but what if i want to talk about them now?”

“you of all people know that i am not one to tell people what to do or how to live their lives,” daniel’s eyes harden, the words stern, “but you need to decompress. take your mind off racing for a minute. your life is not all about racing. you need to take care of yourself too.”

“i know,” you allow him to wrap an arm around your shoulders, bringing you in close, “it’s too much to think about sometimes.”

“tell me about it,” daniel places a peck on your temple as you nestle your head into his collarbone, “how about we eat, and maybe we can talk about it later?”

“sounds like a plan to me,” you nod, “hey, i have a question for you.”

“and that is?”

reaching for a box of fries, you fiddle with it, “are there speculations that we’re dating?”

“how do you think that went?”

james is to your right, tablet in hand. absentmindedly, you fiddle with the visor on your helmet, “all right.”

“just all right?” james queries, “you have pole position for tomorrow and you think that went just all right?”

“well,” you shrug, “we all know that max is going to overtake me, so i can’t be too hopeful.”

“such a pessimist,” james chuckles, placing a tender hand on your shoulder, “you don’t seem like you’re quite here today. i don’t want to press, but is something on your mind? you know you can tell me, right?”

there was quite a lot on your mind, actually.

in the days following the bahrain grand prix, it was almost as if your mind was a torrent of anxiety, fear, and numerous emotions. there were too many to decipher, constantly overwhelming you, distracting you from the matter at hand.

although you felt like you weren’t quite on this planet, you somehow managed to breeze past max in qualifying. it was only by hundredths of seconds, but it was a victory nonetheless. charles leclerc was behind max in the third position on the grid. alex was twelfth, which was not great but not terrible.

the encounter with toto was ever-present, consuming your thoughts whole. part of you wanted to confess the entire situation to james, but you knew that you had to keep it to yourself. this was no time to stir up any drama or rivalry between the two principals.

you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hand drifted, how his voice shifted when he spoke to you. it was a far contrast from the way he spoke in interviews or to his drivers. it was rich yet husky, brimming with lust. there were gentle notes inflected in it as well, almost if he was admiring you. it was reminiscent of how one would speak of their favorite piece of artwork, or their most prized possession.

from his point of view, were you really a prize to be won? were you really that important? or were you the latter?

were you simply a pawn in his game?

the way he looked at you told you a different story.

there was no calculation. no coldness. there was no trace of the hardened, steely gaze he usually presented to his peers, to journalists, and to the general public.

there was simply a softness. as if you were one of his weak spots. you could remember him looking at you hungrily, as if he was taking in every single detail of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

since the encounter in your motorhome, you had only bumped into the principal twice. once was on your entrance to the paddocks with james, where you exchanged formal greetings. the other was after the last practice session, where he congratulated you for your time, wishing you luck in qualifying.

the most odd aspect of it all was that you could count the number of exchanges you had with the principal on your fingers. most of it was formalities, either with the press lurking around, or when you attended events. there were no personal meetings before. it was all business or related to racing.

so he truly meant it when he had mentioned he had his eye on you for a while.

the only thing you could remember was an afterparty after the monaco grand prix in 2023. although max had won the race, both lewis and george had placed fourth and fifth. those were significant placements, especially on a track like monaco. you had placed eleventh, which was pretty monumental at the time.

around four a.m. at the afterparty, toto approached you. his face was flushed, cheeks tinged nearly crimson from the alcohol. the scent lingered on his breath, his hair was tousled, and a sheen of sweat clung to his skin. yet he was still utterly gorgeous, offering you a brilliant smile.

“i didn’t think the golden girl of formula one would make an appearance!”

“golden girl?”

“well of course,” he nodded fervently, the words slurred ever so slightly, “you shine like the sun. so that means you’re a golden girl!”

“mr. wolff,” your laughter was like bells, ringing so beautifully in the principals’ ears, “i think you’re pretty drunk.”

“let’s get a drink or two together. then you can really see that i’m not the big bad wolf.”

you ended up declining his offer, but he didn’t persist, leaving you to join daniel, lando, and oscar on the dancefloor. your heart was racing, and you were sure it had nothing to do with the pounding bass or alcohol consumption.

it was due to the fact that you had a tiny crush on the principal.

ever since you had sat behind the wheel of a race car, you were attracted to the principal. in your teenage years, you had dreamed of racing for mercedes, under the wing of toto. you swooned whenever you logged onto tumblr and read fanfics. you were nearly breathless every time you saw him pop up on your youtube feed.

fuck, even when you watched drive to survive on netflix, you couldn’t help but catch yourself rewinding back to the interviews with toto.

so when he offered to buy you a drink or two in monaco, you had to bite your tongue to say yes. when he entered your motorhome and had you pinned against the counter, you were a little weak in the knees. when he used little dove or schatz, it did leave your heart skipping a beat.

since that moment in monaco, things had been strictly professional. now, that line was starting to blur thanks to the motorhome incident. every time you noticed the principal, you could sense the tension in the air. it clouded nearly everything, thick and electric, sending a shiver down your spine every time the two of you locked eyes.

there was no doubt that the team principal was breathtaking. yet, he was almost thirty years older than you. additionally, you couldn’t help but think about the way the entire formula one world would react the moment they caught wind of mr. wolff and the american girl. the horrible treatment from the media would only skyrocket.

there was also the other elephant in the room.

after you asked daniel whether or not there were speculations the two of you were dating, he distanced himself. although he had said no, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted the world to think the two of you were together.

before, the two of you were almost inseparable. after alex, he was the first driver to welcome you to the world of formula one with open arms, often encouraging you, offering advice, and defending your name tirelessly. he was constantly reposting videos of you all over his social media, captioning them along the lines of, “look at my american girl go!” or “go best friend, that’s my best friend!”

of course, there were little rumors swirling around on social media that the two of you were an item. fans often made edits of the two of you, saying things like, “they’ll never tell us they’re dating but in my head they’re together” or “that aussie boy loves his american girl <3”

now, you found yourself distracted. too distracted. between the whole toto debacle, questioning your loyalty to williams, the benefits of joining mercedes, and daniel leaving you out high and dry, you were a mess.

a hot mess, at the very least.

to make matters worse, tomorrow was the biggest race of your season. if not, the biggest race of your life.

and god only knew what tomorrow was going to bring.

thank you so much for reading! let me know if you would like to be tagged! <3 this is going to be a multi-chapter series so buckle up y'all. it's about to get juicy!

#f1 #formula 1 #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #daniel ricciardo #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #george russell

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thalialunacy · 1 day

Text

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts for Crown & Country. I am back?]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) 18: blanket

The baby monitor startles to life and kicks John awake -- awake, but only just enough to reflexively and somewhat violently shove off the heavy weight on top of him. The weight makes a grumpy sound and attempts to sling arm and leg back round, and John's brain catches up with itself.

His head thunks back onto the pillow. 'Sherlock.'

'Hmmmph.'

'Rosie.'

'Yes, fine, go.' But he doesn't actually move.

John wonders for a moment if he's gone round the twist officially, to be sharing a bed with a sea urchin.

But then the creature snuffles into his neck, and John extricates himself with a sleepy grin.

Two mornings later, after falling asleep alone while Sherlock did fuck-knows-what in the lounge for hours, John wakes up with a thump and finds himself on the floor next to the bed. 'What the--'

He's fairly certain he hasn't lost his proprioceptive capabilities during the night, so he glares when Sherlock's head appears over the side of the bed.

'Oh, dear,' Sherlock says distantly. 'I was wondering if that would happen.'

'If what would happen?' John grumbles as he stands and pushes his way back under the duvet.

Sherlock remains on the other side of the mattress, though, brow furrowed. 'If two people with our… histories could share a bed with any sort of regularity.'

John chews on this for a moment, thinking of his own behaviour a few mornings prior. 'D'you mean, should two people with nasty PTSD from recent near-death events share a bed?' he finally replies, settling on his back with a loose arm in obvious, but unforceful, invitation.

Sherlock sniffs, hesitates for one more moment, then accepts. 'Yes, obviously,' he says into John's shoulder once he's settled himself.

'Well,' John says, hand running slowly over Sherlock's arm, 'let's do worst case scenario.'

It's something they do when Sherlock is caught in what John calls a "wonk spiral," facts and deductions swirling so fast and down such sparkling pathways that he's in danger of losing the plot, in more than one sense.

'Obvious,' Sherlock says.

'Doesn't matter,' John replies, same as he always does. 'What is it?'

'That we end up, quite literally, hurting each other.'

'And how can we prevent that?'

'We can't,' Sherlock says, exasperation plain in his voice.

'Sure we can,' John replies easily. 'We still have some of those corner-protectors for the furniture, yeah?'

Sherlock pulls back. 'You're suggesting we toddler-proof this room, but not for the toddler.'

'Easy.'

'Hmm.'

John pulls him back down. 'It's fine, Sherlock. It'll get better.' He knows this from past experience. 'We just… try not to trigger anything while we're awake, and we'll deal with it if it happens otherwise.'

'You sound very confident,' Sherlock murmurs, voice growing heavy with sleep.

'I've had more therapy than you,' he replies wryly.

He feels Sherlock start to tangle their legs together, then pause, then slowly move so they're connected but not holding each other down.

'See?' he murmurs into Sherlock's hairline. 'We're fairly clever. We'll be fine.'

Sherlock makes a noise somewhere between a harrumph and a sniff. 'More than fairly, I'd say.'

'Obviously,' John says lightly, grip on Sherlock's upper arm tightening momentarily. 'Now, sleep.'

And Sherlock, miraculously, does.

[ <3 ]

#it's gonna be MAY 2024 #MayPrompts2024 #BBC Sherlock #Johnlock #Slice of life

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crimeronan · 3 days

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Camila horror thoughts. In the horrifically fraught family horrors sense of the term.

What if Vee has specifically warned Camila about Hunter, told her all about what he specifically has done in order to give her a heads up, in a way naturally coloured by the views she has (not unreasonably) built up around Hunter because of all the stuff she's done.

So naturally she's got this wariness of Hunter that does not compute when she sees how genuinely caring he is with Luz even if logically she knows people can act remarkably differently in different contexts and none of it negates all the stuff he did with The Basilisks for Belos. But Camila is still pretty sure that Luz doesn't know, and is terrified that if she knew it might destroy something that she is desperately reliant on, her relationship with Hunter. It probably wouldn't, Luz could probably live with that since well horrible nightmare trauma soulmates and by Luz's standards she's done just as bad in a similar context but Camila and Luz keeping secrets for almost the exact same reason (to protect the people they love from horrors they are too insane to be affected by) appeals to me.

But the problem now arises, Camila's told Luz that she has adopted another kid, and Luz in the spirit of trying her best to reach out does want to see Vee or have her visit with Camila next time she comes or something like that since like, thats a normal thing to do on reconnecting with your estranged mother and finding out you have an adopted sister you've never met.

Vee, bless is not going along with that "don't tell Luz how horrible Hunter is since she is hopelessly codependent on him" bullshit at all. Camila knows that, Vee knows that. Camila knows she cannot ethically or reasonably expect Vee to not spill all of Hunter's darkest secrets to Luz in an attempt to ruin his life since, y'know all the stuff he did to her specifically.

For Vee the nicest most compromise-y thing she can do, is just never meet Luz face to face, and thats only because of her respect for Camila. But there's no way Luz isn't going to to notice or be concerned about this so there's this constant ticking time bomb of "when am i gonna meet Vee' since "oh she's off at college" isn't gonna work forever.

god this is all so good. i've been thinking about it since you sent this ask a few hours ago now. bc like. god. there's So Much....

i think you're 100% right that vee would try to stay out of things. she's like mama respectfully i'm ready to meet her IF i'm allowed to scream a lot of pent-up utterly unhinged bullshit but otherwise i think it's best for me not to be involved.

and camila is SUCH a bad liar. if she tried to say that things were fine with vee, luz would clock that something was wrong immediately. she obviously wouldn't jump to "she's from the isles" when there are so many more obvious conclusions -- maybe vee is jealous of luz for being the first daughter camila loved, maybe she's angry at luz for running away, maybe she's sick of luz monopolizing camila's time now when vee is used to having their mom all to herself....

regardless of what luz thinks is most likely, she's definitely like. Ah. I Am Driving A Wedge Between Them. This Is My Fault. On A Personal Level. Somehow.

and then on camila's end, that's even true to a point.... bc vee is getting increasingly more upset by the idea of protecting luz's feelings. i can absolutely see a very tired vee finally having the stress get to her & snapping, "why do you think she'll CARE?? she isn't going to care. even if she's as nice a person as you think she is, it's not like i'm a human or a witch. i'm nothing. she doesn't know how to care about people like me"

...there is, of course, a delicious and vicious irony in that. like. luz Very Much Does Know how to care about someone who isn't a witch or a human.

Oh God.

and then whenever luz meets vee, when it all finally Does come out.... i feel like it would sort of be worse for vee than anything she'd actually braced for. because luz DOES immediately care, she does act like it matters, she immediately wants to know everything and fix everything and make it all better, she immediately takes on all of the responsibility for everything the empire's ever done, she's so sorry, she didn't know, she would have done something, she can do something now--

--and vee is like well. HE knew. and he sure didn't want to help me!! even though i asked him to!! even though he KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING TO ME THE ENTIRE TIME

hunter has wisely remained quiet because he doesn't think he can really defend himself here. and luz has this moment of uncertainty and confusion, and then she looks at hunter's face, and for a second vee thinks that he's just going to straight-up deny it, but he doesn't. and luz seems to understand that it's all true.

and she doesn't look angry. or even betrayed.

and then she's trying to tell vee that hunter was always in danger when they were growing up, that there must have been extenuating circumstances that made rescue impossible, that he would have helped her if he could, that luz KNOWS he would have because he wouldn't just leave vee to suffer for no reason, that's not the kind of person he is,

and hunter is the one to be like luz. stop. she doesn't need to hear that right now. she can hate me. it's fine.

so vee's opinions on luz are like. 1) i hate that you're so nice that i look insane for being angry with you 2) you're a spineless coward who can't hold anyone accountable 3) you've fooled camila into thinking you're some helpless delicate flower by pretending to be sad when you DON'T care 4) if hunter is going to agree with me about anything then i should legally get to shoot him. just like once. i've never touched a gun or had any inclination to do so before today But I Should Get To Shoot Him .

camila's role in mediating this has mainly been to gently steer the conversation into more productive territory when it looks like it might devolve into panic attacks or violence from anyone involved. she's so fucking stressed by trying to keep things from coming to blows that there's like. no Way that she could do a professional-level job of Family Therapy Mediator.

god.

much 2 consider.

#MESSYYYY.#havent reread this but hopefully it is coherent. vibes.#replies #toh #princess luz au #camila noceda #vee noceda #luz noceda #hunter toh #horrible mindscape trauma pals #long post

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