George Is Smitten As Fuck I Better Not Here A Single Person Saying They Think Dnf Isn’t Reciprocated

"i knew he'd hit the brakes,

he has a wife and two kids at home"

CHARLES WHEN THE WDC HAS HIS NAME NEXT YEAR

NO ROLE MODELZ・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. lando can't help but be addicted to y/n, high and all.

WARNINGS. 16+, smoking and getting high, suggestive-ish, just high hotness

NOTE. a small something that i needed to write about lando. will i ever write anything else? who knows. let me know what you think <3

edit: i highly appreciate all ur kind words, however this is a secondary blog so i cannot reply to comments, but rest assured, i love reading them <3

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lando feels like he's in hell. blinks once, then twice, as if the lids of his eyes would wash away the red haze that weighs upon his sight with inclemency. it remains, however, like a vision straight from an inferno, although the heat that licks at his skin burns from the inside out, shredding inches of cooperation with it, and he curses sober him for leaving his leds on a permanent ferrari hue. the open window, a leeway for cooler air, deems fruitless upon his body, probably as red as the lights that succumb him to complete disorder.

his limbs feel disassociated, flowing without a sense of control, yet it excites him vehemently. the feeling of nothing but complete euphoria meandering and intoxicating him feels so fucking good, and he doesn't want it to end.

no pressure, flying without wings, he loves it so much that he's almost addicted. finds it ironic that the fear of being so inexplicably hooked unto something dwindles away when he realises that the bad feels, really, like the opposite.

movement comes from beside him, then a few seconds later, the biting smell of smoke crawls into his nose, and if he had any prior disdain towards it, he doesn't show as his body melts with a sigh. his fingers tremble as his arm raises, and the girl beside him slots the cig between his fingers.

"you're a fucking goner, aren't you?" her words are slurred, not as much lando thinks his would be, but she still sounds confident. his lips curl upwards and he hums, turning his head to meet her too-perfect side profile, tracing every peak and dip with his eyes.

"feel like i'm fucking ascending."

"good," she assures, then as the song bleeding through his bluetooth speaker slides into another, he watches as her eyes shut and her lips smile.

he wonders how someone infiltrated with obscenity, sin, can look so beautiful drenched in red. it pulls him in, makes his heart twist like never before, and his whole being knows he needs her. she equates to freedom, to a life that stings with too much addictive liberation that lando would cry if she were to disappear.

his eyes never leave her. not when her lips move to sing the lyrics of j cole, neither when her fingers, smooth and warm, tangles in his, moving it towards her mouth before taking a drag. the view before lando is so fucking hot, his heart collapses in his chest and the bliss that wires his brain squeezes it tighter.

then he feels her body move on top of his, striking every nerve ending in his flesh and his eyes open as fast as they can in his inebriated state. she's just as high as he is, eyes red (to be frank, he can't tell whether it's from the lights or not) and nearly shut, but she grins as her hips rests on his and god, does lando's mind short circuit. there's so much friction and heat that he can't move, and he just half-liddedly stares at her as she takes another drag.

"feels good, doesn't it?" she asks, all loopy and hot. he wants to cry.

"so fucking good." his mouth moves on its own accord.

she smiles, and she's singing again.

'don't save her, she don't wanna be saved.'

then her hand moves the cig to his lips and he sucks in as much smoke as he can. it burns his throat, like an open fire tickling his insides, and he needs to cough, but doesn't, going to blow it out. as he does so, she leans forward, warm, soft lips open around his own and takes it right into her mouth.

lando feels everything and nothing. feels the way his hands come up to her waist and squeeze the flesh there with much familiarity, but it's also as if there's nothing there as his movements are so weak, he might as well have no hands at all. he's scorching all over, and it feels so good, so so good, that he can do nothing but close his eyes and let her continue to suck his soul out of his chest.

JAMES MCAVOY as Wesley Gibson Wanted (2008) dir. Timur Bekmambetov

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I mean... Dream's face is nice and all... But did you SEE his HANDS???

bro i know

I stand by this.

i’m foaming at the fucking mouth someone hold me back

i genuinely can't think clearly anymore because the line "my future is your future" sounds so devastatingly romantic out of context, something you would confess breathlessly to your lover, who isn't sure if being with you is worth whatever happens in the future, a line that tethers soulmates together, a line Achilles would probably whisper to Patroclus when the war comes knocking on their door, but then you remember that it's actually from a popular minecraft streamer panicking while taking an "Are You In Love With Your Best Friend?" quiz in front of 2k+ people and aforementioned best friend, who was eating McDonald's french fries the entire time.

Baby :(

Dream’s eulogy to Technoblade <3

there's railings in ravine, in a now empty base, and they were made because techno wanted to keep his allies safe. he saw people fall, hurt themselves needlessly, and he did his best to stop that from happening.

there's a crater in the ground where a government once stood, now full of life and green and growing things, where techno repaid the injustice he and his friends suffered, through ideals and anger, because he believed it was right.

there are copies of a book, somewhere on the server, that speaks of techno's ideals, about fighting tyranny and coercion. because he saw people, his friends, be pressured against their will and decided no more, not if i can help it.

there's a little boy who is back with his father and techno helped bring him home. he saw his friend murdered and promised to save his son, putting aside his differences and offering apologies because he wanted to honor the dead.

there's a horse that techno was willing to die for and there's a fox who no longer chews on sand and there's endermen alive because they reminded techno of his friend.

there's a man and his crows who will never let techno's memories fade and bright, shining green symbol of friendship because once techno said, 'for you, phil, the world'.

there's two people who are stronger than they know, who were heard and supported when no one else would, because techno saw that they needed it and understood.

there's someone who will find what he's looking for, one day, and there's a turtle helmet that will make him think of techno when he finally finds it.

there's a man who is now free, whose torture techno wouldn't let be forgotten, who was shown concern for the first time in months, and who brought techno's spirit with him to bring down another empire.

there are so many reminders, both big and small, living and dead, of the marks that techno left, that will never be forgotten.

and there is a small cabin in the arctic and it's empty now but somehow still filled with warmth and the lights are still on, a reminder, a memory, waiting for the owner's return, knowing his spirit never truly left.