musings, on the definitions of 'recovery' from chronic/cyclical depression, or the lack thereof
aka writing in an actual journal for some reason always makes me feel infinitely worse, but I can get coherent and not entirely despairing thoughts out on a keyboard and feel almost better after
Not the worst thing, but certainly one of the worst things about being in a sort of limbo semi "clinically" recovered from chronic/cyclical depression is that you're never actually recovered. Because, yknow, the cyclical inescapable nature of early onset intermittent depression.
It's different now, nearly two decades in. It's an old friend you wish would leave but have never existed, consciously, as more than a child, without. It's familiar. And that familiarity breeds contempt. You've put in the work, you've done all the right things, you take your meds, etc etc. So it's not the same, intense, acute despair (or, it rarely is, anymore, though there are days). You're no longer an active suicide risk, lying to doctors. It's passive and only semi-constant at worst. Instead it's this half-life, this dreadful nothingness where the horizon is always just out of reach. The brain and body too foggy, too weighed down, too despairing to do anything, but, crucially, it is not entirely despair, there is still some small part that remembers the sun, the first warmth of 'recovery' from the first episode of true despair. There is an animalistic instinct to survive which you lacked before. There is a desire to live, not to just survive, but to want to live, to suck the marrow from the world and let it be joyous, let it be fun. I wish I could experience fun more often.
But even in good periods, you are too exhausted-physically, mentally-to truly live like that. In a bad quiet period? There is no chance. And so it is dreadfully boring. You know this isn't the end. It hasn't been the end the last hundred times, it is unlikely to be the next hundred times. You must just wait. Unable to do anything. Unable to function in any meaningful way. Laying still, paralyzed, as this insistent push to live flails futilely against itself. You must wait. It will pass. It will end. It always does. You just have to wait. Again. And again.
Because it always passes, but it always comes back. And your only life is relegated to a half-life, where something has been fundamentally broken (perhaps it was broken to begin with), and it is inescapable. A life spent in periods of fallowness and recovery, bracing for the next, because it's never not going to arrive.The self does not exist without it. (Cannot exist without it? What is a self that has only ever been aware of itself within the context of this cycle. We cannot recover what was lost, we do not even know what was lost, if we have never truly experienced it, only its absence. There is no alternate self that is whole, unbroken, fulfilled, where x never happened or you were not born cursed. This is the only self, and you cannot ever escape the self.)
And you look around and see so many people and wonder why you cannot be A Person the way everyone else is A Person. What about you lacks the same inherent personhood? Why are you so bad at it? Sure, you can function. You can Perform. You're very good at that. Very good at being polite, being helpful, being useful. You check off, at least some, of society's boxes for Being A Functional Adult. But ultimately, you know, you're not really a person. Can't ever be.
And even then, the little part the doctors deem 'clinically recovered' fights back against this notion. It's just the illness. Not really you, not your true self, the rotten broken core of your being. But if it's not you. Why doesn't it leave? End? Why is it the most constant thing in your existence? Why, if it is not indicative of something that is irreparably and fundamentally broken? Illness or not, it is inseparable from the self. It is not a limb that can be removed. And so it is the self.
There’s now a song in Noumena’s playlist that doesn’t sound like the others. I think it sounds like Praxis’ deep down thinking. MOST of the music on there is Axiom’s, with touches of Praxis’ casual calm brooding here and there.
Obsessed with Mage Viktor's relationship/view of Jayce and how it's one of those things that looks beautiful at surface level but the more you think about it the more twisted it becomes. There are so so many instances, but in particular I'm thinking about the way he was seemingly always watching Jayce whilst in the alternate timeline.
The almost voyeurism behind it. Jayce is trapped with only himself for company and is forced to confront everything, all of his actions, his thoughts, his worldview, he has to grapple with his core identity and rebuild himself from scratch. Such a moment should be one of privacy, the moment of self reflection holds a rawness and degree of intimacy that no one should be privy to save for himself. Yet never once did mage Viktor stop looking. Not even touching on the physical pain and effort he struggled through alone, but again not unwatched.
(you could take it to a meta level and argue that we, the audience, are the exact same as Mage Viktor in this sense - but I think that's a whole other equally interesting argument)
Even in isolation, Piltover's man of progress cannot escape eyes that watch him where he goes.
summary: being the head of social media and marketing, you deal with the mercedes drivers the most. fans know you by now. well, they know your voice saying “cut that out” but still making it in the final edit. the fans love it, the drivers love it. george says he loves it most, as if he isn’t the one causing all those damn “cut that out” messages in the first place
OR
in which george is smitten with head of social media and marketing, and ruins their social media filming to get them to laugh.
youruser 🔒 their senior driver btw (toto said I can’t post these on main 🙃)
liked by georgerussell63, lando, kimi.antonelli, and 38 others
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georgerussell63 Where did you get the first one of me? You weren’t even there!
youruser I have spies
georgerussell63 I knew admin was acting a bit strange!
youruser I could sink you with one post
georgerussell63 Can you at least get my good side next time?
youruser you don’t have one but I’ll try 👍
georgerusell63 This is blatant favouritism
alexalbon Everybody was Kung fu fighting in the first pic
youruser karate kid but marginally worse
georgerussell63 What have I done to catch these strays?
youruser exist
lando exist
alexalbon exist
georgerussell63 Right, got it. 👍
maxverstappen1 He looks dumb
youruser should I post yours next??
maxverstappen1 I retract my statement
youruser good
lando this has “no one can bully george except me” energy
youruser it does, bc everyone else sucks at it
alexalbon speak ur truth admin 🗣️
kimi.antonelli emphasis on senior‼️🗣️
youruser maybe get ur license first
kimi.antonelli 💀
lando 💀
lando they did not lie
georgerussell63 Kimi I’m only 27
kimi.antonelli that’s 8 years older than me mate, that’s ancient
oscarpiastri Thank God admin isn’t on our cases like George
lando ha trueeee
youruser you boys are nice to me, keep it that way 🥰
oscarpiastri 🫡
lando 🫡
lilymhe masterpieces
alexalbon wait when did you get here??
lilymhe i’ve been here
youruser lily my bestie ❤️
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆
Fridays were content days, everyone in Mercedes knew that, and somehow, George was still late. Fashionably so, of course. With coffee from the paddock café, and a spring in his step. You looked up from Kimi doing a cup stacking challenge to offer a smouldering glare. You waited until Kimi was done and smiling victoriously at the camera before you spoke.
“You’re late.”
“The line was long!” George argued. You rolled your eyes. George planted something in front of you. A tea. You blinked up at him. “You’re welcome,” George sassed as he came down to sit beside Kimi.
“Mate, beat my record! I dare you!” Kimi beamed proudly at the wobbly cup tower he’d built in fifteen point three seconds. You were still staring at the tea with furrowed brows. Like it had personally offended you. George looked over at you, at the way your nose and brow crinkled as you stared at the tea without blinking.
“You okay?” He asked. “You look like the tea insulted your mother.” You snapped your head up to look at him. To really look at him. George was smiling, in that way he does, the way that he always has.
“You got me tea,” you dead panned. George nodded.
“Yes, I did.”
“You never get me tea.” He liked to rub the fact that he got coffee in your face.
“God forbid a man change.” Yeah, God forbid. You pulled your eyes away from the tea with your name on the side in George’s writing. Not the barista’s writing, like his cup. His writing. That extra step. You blinked back into existence as George laughed at a joke Kimi had said, and he glanced at you. He fucking glanced at you. For confirmation, for something, you didn’t know. You had to get a grip.
“Okay, let’s do this challenge!” You had to pretend like nothing was wrong, that your world hadn’t slightly shifted because George Russell decided to buy you tea this morning. George had done kind things for you before, so it wasn’t new. But his good deeds had never felt so … personal. Kindness could be general, and George’s was. This tea was something else, something closer to something unnamed. You and George had always been close, since his karting days, but you’d always been closer to Alex. George was someone you’d orbited around, collided with on occasion, and became close because Alex thought you both would like each other.
Your worlds had collided in an ugly way, with him being the one to offer you a job, and you feeling like you had to earn it when you already had. Now, four years later, you were in a groove. You had a dance.
This tea, this gift, broke the cycle, and you weren't sure what to do about it.
You filmed George taking down Kimi's tower and re-stacking it as fast as he could, the younger driver cheering him on behind the background. Your viewers loved things like these, challenges that made the drivers seem more human. And when George got too cocky and knocked the tower over, you knew your views would skyrocket.
"So close!" You cheered as George barely lost to Kimi's time. The younger driver held the record.
"It's because he's ancient," Kimi explained as he turned your hands to face him. George reached out to try and cover the lens, mumbling something along the lines of you're so funny, but with the sarcastic drawl the world had come to expect from George Russell.
"Thanks, boys," you shot them as a smile as you thanked them. You knew content wasn't every driver's favourite, but you hoped that they'd find some kind of enjoyment in it.
Kimi gave you a smile and hopped up to his feet. "Best way to start the day," he told you earnestly. You placed a hand over your heart and sent Kimi a smile.
"Grazie, Kimi," the Italian driver had started teaching you a few small words and phrases, integrating them into conversation in a way that made sense to your brain. He'd been excited to show someone the ways his language flowed like water, you'd been eager to learn. Always eager to learn, eager to devour new information.
"You learning Italian now?" George asked, like he genuinely wanted to know the answer. He was leaning in with a gleam in his eyes, the one that came out when he wanted something.
"Kimi's been teaching me," you replied as you sipped on your tea. You pulled the cup away from your mouth with your eyes wide.
"What?" George asked.
"You remembered how I take my tea."
"Of course I did," he replied. "What'd you take me for? Of course I know how you take it. I've known you for most of my life." He looked almost offended at your surprise, that you thought so low of him. You looked down at your hands, resting in your lap, company phone staring up at you. It was still recording.
"I guess I'll just have to keep buying you tea, then." George decided.
"What? Why?"
"Because you clearly think so little of me, I must be doing something wrong." You found yourself smiling at the way he was getting so serious about this.
"I never said that," you defended. "I just never told you how I take my tea."
"Yeah, but you showed me, and I remembered."
"I showed you seven years ago. One time." George nodded.
"Yes, that lines up." Behind you, George's trainer called out for him. He looked up, then back at you. "I'll see you later, yeah? Make sure you get some good shots of me during FP1, yeah?" He gave you a wave as he trotted out of the room. Leaving you sitting, still staring at the tea, with your name in his handwriting, made the way you like it.
You were going to be sitting on this one for a while.
mercedesamgf1 What a sight, George Russell on podium!
liked by georgerussell63, f1, redbullracing, and 906,860 others
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user we are so back!
f1 smashing!
mercedesamgf1 truly wonderful!
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆
You rushed to find him. To have a slice of race winner George Russell before the rest of the world. Heads turned as you rant to catch him before media. When you rounded the corner and saw him, dripping with champagne and all, you shot off towards him. George turned at the sound of you calling out to him, phone in hand, frantically red-faced, and smiled. Smiled wider than on the podium. As you keeled over in front of him, obviously filming, he let himself admire you. Not that you’d ever think it was admiring. You’d give it a nasty word like scheming, or contemplating. George didn’t think he was schemer, but you’d disagree.
“Someone’s excited to see me,” he teased. Your face got even redder. George stood tall and accepted the tiny mic you always carried around with you and stood tall. “Okay, I’m ready for my post-race interview.” He knew you too well. He tilted the mic towards you, letting you ask the question you always did after a race.
“How does it feel, George?” You asked.
“To win the race?” He asked back. A question with a question. A game you’d developed, dancing around each other with skillful ease.
“To be you right now,” you offered instead. Because that sounded nicer. George blinked for a moment before he chuckled.
“Christ, you always have to make things philosophical, don’t you?”
“Someone has to keep you on your toes.” George chuckled again, the mic catching the way his breath seemed to stutter out of him like a school boy. He hoped no one would notice.
“You certainly do that.” It felt like a victory, and you relished it. “Well, it feels good to be me right now. Just won a race, so that’s a bonus. The car had great pace today, and the team gave it their all, and it paid off.” He talked about the team, the track, his skill, Kimi’s drive, and thanked all the people who made it happen. You smiled behind the camera and George forgot how to breathe. A moment of silence, almost too long for George. One that made you furrow your brows as he tried to force himself to stop looking at you like that.
“Are you alright?” You asked, though the mic wouldn’t pick up on that.
“Couldn’t be better,” he assured you. He didn’t want you to worry, not about him. Not ever. “Although, I will say, I wish I had someone to celebrate this win with.”
“You have your team,” you replied. George blinked. Were you that dense? Truly, properly dense?
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” George tried to clarify. “I mean, yes, I’ll celebrate with the team, but I meant a one on one celebration.” He hoped you got it. Oh God, you were still filming.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” you assured him. It took everything in George not to scream. He just gripped the mic a little tighter and tried to smile.
“Yeah, for sure. I’ll probably call my mum, she’d love to hear all about it.” Your eyes brightened at the mention of his family. You’d met them before, when you were young and still clinging to the back of Alex’s shirts and wouldn’t look him in the eye. You’d grown so much since then, gotten braver. But not to the point of annoyance. Brave in the ways that counted.
“Tell her I say hi?” You asked.
“Oh, of course, always.” He nearly choked up on the last word. That wasn’t the kind of always he wanted. He really was botching this all up wasn’t he? God he could imagine what the fans would say. How he looked in love. They wouldn’t necessarily be wrong, but he couldn’t have that reflecting badly on you. This video couldn’t be posted, he knew that for sure.
“Do you have any victory words for the camera before you go to media?” You asked, into the mix this time.
“Fuck the haters!” He said it with such emphasis that it caught you off guard. George didn’t swear on camera much, he felt it was undignified, if people still cared about that in 2025.
He watched as your face broke into the biggest smile he’d seen all weekend as you laughed. Not the one you did when trying to be polite, but the full-bodied laugh that made your shoulders shake and tears form in your eyes. The laugh that made him think that he could spend forever with you.
“George! I can’t use that!” You protested through your tears. He still smiled. Even if you’d chew him out for it later. “We’ll try this again after media.” It wasn’t a question because you weren’t asking. George liked that about you.
“You can’t ask me something like that on the spot, love,” he told you. “I go all wibbly.”
“Yeah, well, you and your wibbly are staying after debrief to film some content for the fans.”
“Do I have to?” I wouldn’t want to spend the night with anyone else.
“Yes, you have to.”
“Fine, for the fans.” I’d do anything for you, all you have to do is ask.
“Good luck,” you whispered.
“Don’t need it.” If I can survive talking to you, I can do anything.
youruser 🔒 a trip home ft. gr63 👊
liked by yukitsunoda, kimi.antonelli, lando, and 27 others
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yukitsunoda invite me next time 🙏
youruser HELL YEAH!
georgerussell63 Who’s that stunner on the bottom right? 😏
youruser idk he followed me on my flight and insisted he could come with me 😑
georgerussell63 It was fun, though!
youruser yes George, it was fun
georgerussell63 👍👍
kimi.antonelli He joined your trip? 😭
youruser he did 😭
georgerussell63 I seem to remember you inviting me
youruser never happened actually ur crazy
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆
“Hi everyone, it’s George, and today we’re making cookies!" Behind the camera, you offer him a thumbs up. The baking cookies had been your idea, something different to spice up the Mercedes social media. Kimi being banned from the kitchen after the last cooking-related video you'd filmed left only George. He'd requested just you behind the camera, to help him focus better. You knew that was a lie. "I've got a recipe from our lovely admin behind the camera, and I've got an hour timer to make, bake, and decorate a car that looks like ... this!" George flipped a photo of a Pirelli tire to the camera.
"And if I have extra time, I'll make a Mercedes logo to give to Toto. Should we get started?" He was asking you, so you gave him a smile and a thumbs up. You made a note to put a timer up on screen in post, to add to the tension. George holds up the Mercedes-branded tablet to read the directions off.
"Okay, so, dry ingredients first. We need flour, baking soda, and salt." You had faith in George, but seeing him struggle to see if something was a teaspoon or a tablespoon cracked you up. You hid your laughs behind your hand as George spilled flour on the counter, dashing it across the front of his team shirt.
"You think this is funny?" George asked you. You tried to shake your head, but a snort escaped you. Undignified, and clearly caught on camera. "Alright, that's it," George dipped his hands in the flour bag and rushed behind the camera. You screamed as he tried to clap his flour-dusted hands in your face.
"George, no!" You scolded.
"George, yes, actually." George lunged for you. You rushed into the camera's view to avoid his assault. The camera picked up George lunging and clapping flour on the front of your shirt as he picked you up, spinning you through the air without a care in the world. You shrieked and held onto his shoulders. George had always been like this, affectionate. Especially when you were both younger, when he needed to show the world that the people closest to him mattered. Now, the world knew their faces, and he had less to prove. That didn't stop him. You didn't think it ever would. Because George Russell loved people, he loved being around people, with the people he chose.
And he'd choose you again and again.
"Put me down!" You shrieked. Outside, through the glass windows, employees had stopped to stare. Some with smiles, others with wide eyes. You saw Kimi waving, which you mirrored. Behind him, Toto stood with his arms crossed, but his face covered by the largest grin you'd seen from him in a long time.
"If you say please," George sassed back.
"When did you get good at negotiation?" You fired back.
"Since last year," he shot back. The night he convinced you to take the Mercedes social media coordinator role, take the promotion, dive head into an industry you never planned on loving. Since that night.
"Fine! Can you please put me down?" You asked. George nodded and gently placed you back on the ground.
"There, was that so hard?" He asked, his cheeks pulled up, his eyes sparkling. He looked nice like this, happy, enjoying life. He always looked good, hadn't he?
"Hardest thing I've had to do," you chastised. George rolled his eyes, but his smile never got smaller. His perfect teeth gleamed under the LED lights. Why did you feel faint?
"How you wound me!" George clutched a hand to his chest, which only spread flour further. You found yourself smiling. Like you always did around him. He brought that feral happiness out of you.
"Enough goofing off, you have cookies to make!" You pointed to the abandoned project on the table. George sighed, his eyes locking in on you.
"I'm down a teammate, help me out?"
"You want me to help?"
"Yeah, you're a great baker! Besides, this challenge was technically made for two." You tapped your chin. You turned around, where Toto still stood tall and firm. You pointed to the table, the question hanging in the air. Can I join him? Toto nodded.
"I've been given permission, let's do this!" You jumped in front of the camera, adding the apron meant for Kimi to your stained Mercedes jumper. George bumped your shoulder with his, you looked up at him.
"Okay, let's make the best cookies you've ever seen!" George cheered. You found yourself giggling as you instructed him to mix, showing him how to knead cookie dough. George listened, nodding intently. You split your dough into two balls, one for you, one for him. he mimicked the way you pushed and rolled the dough, laying it out, ready to be cut.
You and George worked well together, not needing to communicate before the other understood. It had always been like that, even when you'd been closer with Alex, when George was someone you existed around, not with. He was good at understanding people, you most of all. You never needed to tell him when you were in a bad mood, he just knew. You were twenty-two when you learned that he didn't do that for everyone. You'd kept it to yourself since. Keeping something just for the two of you. Even if the possibility of you two had always been impossible, you'd pretended that special treatment was enough.
Pretending he annoyed you had always been easier than being vulnerable. But how could you be anything but that when he smiled at you and dabbed icing on your nose?
"What if I made a pink tire?" George asked.
"You go girl, slay."
"Noted, 'slay' it is." You snorted. "What?" He asked, his attention drifting from the pink tired he was decorating to you, face splotched with blue and pink icing, mostly from him. He tried not to stare, he really did.
"Just you, you're being funny again."
"I'm always funny, love," George shot back. "You just don't appreciate good humour."
"I understand good humour just fine," you mumbled back, still focused on your cookie. You were making cookies of Kimi and George, trying to get every detail right. George watched you tongue slide out between your lips, your brows furrowed in concentration, and he let himself imagine. That this could be normal. This could be everything. In a kitchen in an apartment you decorated, making sweets, probably somewhere in the UK, happy, together.
A thought he'd had since he was fourteen. Never spoken out loud. He always had a feeling that you knew, somewhere deep down.
"Is that me?" He asked, his eyes snapping to the cookie you were occupied with.
"I'd say it's pretty accurate," you held up the cookie beside his face. George raised a brow in a quizzical look.
"I like to think I look better than the cookie," George mused.
"Wait, can I get a photo of this?" You were already reaching for your phone, discarded on the counter.
"For Mercedes or your private?" George joked as you pulled your phone out.
"Just for me," you whispered as you snapped the photo of George holding the cookie, mimicking the expression you'd painstakingly drawn in icing. George's smile turned soft as you turned the phone to show him.
"It does kind of look like me," he mused.
"I knew you'd come around." It didn't really look like him. He was just agreeing with you because he loved seeing you smile. And if saying that he looked like a sugar cookie made you laugh, then he'd do it a thousand times.
mercedesamgf1 Fun fact of the day: George Russell can bake! Check out our newest YouTube video now!
liked by georgerussell63, youruser, kimi.antonelli, and 2,460,680 others
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user okay but the sudden jump cut from george being alone to admin (i think) baking with him took me out
user yeah that's their head of social media! they prefer to have their face blurred for privacy but that's them fs!
user he probably forced them bc kimi's banned from the kitchen
user the way he was looking at admin during the decorating segment tho??? can we talk about that??
user oh i KNOW he was so soft that entire video
user whoever blurred admin's face when i find you
user THERE'S SOMETHING THERE i scream as i'm pulled off stage
user the cut from them being mostly clean to admin and george being COVERED in icing. LEAK THE FOOTAGE
user i need to know what happened
user oh to have been a fly on the wall in that room
georgerussell63 Toto approved of the pink tires!
user as he should
mercedesamgf1 Pink tires next year?
user admin i like the way you think
kimi.antonelli Thank you for the cookie that looked like me, admin!
mercedesamgf1 Treat Cookie Antonelli kindly!
user the kimi cookie was so precious
user he looked so happy to receive it, i just know that admin is well-loved at mercedes
alexalbon When is it my turn??
georgerussell63 Never
user sassy man apocalypse starts with george russell
youruser 🔒 i taught you well
mercedesamgf1 Showing up to a "cut that out" contest and my opponent is George Russell
liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli, f1, and 3,585,869 others
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user crying admin saying "cut that!" twice and it still making into the final edit KILLED ME
user they’re so done it’s iconic
user george was having the time of his LIFE
user "george you can't say that" vs "watch me!"
user admin works hard but george works harder
user can't believe toto let them post this
user you know george was so smug making admin laugh
user he kept smirking every time he got them to laugh
user the way admin had to leave so they could finish the video is insane work
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆
“Excellent job, George,” the photographer praised as the flashes went off. The shoot for their summer merch line had been going on for a few hours and he was losing steam. Shoot days weren’t his favourite part of his job, but it was necessary, in a strange way. Besides, the summer line was fun, he enjoyed the designs, and hoped fans would too. But, that meant that he had to stand in an inflatable pool, with a silly flamingo float or around his waist, laughing at something behind the camera. Kimi would join soon, once his other media duties were finished. It felt like the end of a marathon.
“Perfect, can you add the sunglasses?” The photographer, who he had nothing against really, asked. George nodded, taking the glasses from an assistant. How long had he been here? Too long, he reckoned.
“Just give us a big smile!” George didn’t think he could. Not when he was so tired and the day was almost over. George tried, he really did, but it just wasn’t what the team was looking for. Which wasn’t anyone’s fault, and he was glad that they didn’t hold it against him.
“I’m sorry that this shoot is running long,” the photographer apologized. “We can try again tomorrow, if you’d like.”
“No, it’s alright. We’re on a deadline, and I won’t drop out. Let’s do this.”
You chose the perfect time to walk into the studio. You were huddled with other members of the social team, people you’d taken under your wing and helped succeed at Mercedes in various ways, like magic. The team rookies were drawn to you, and George didn’t blame them. How could he?
He called for you, you turned up, met his eyes, and smiled. The photographer beamed behind the camera as you trekked over towards George. “Impromptu beach day and you didn’t invite me?” You asked, gesturing to his attire.
“Blame the postal service,” George fired back. Your smile grew.
“I’ll file a formal complaint,” you assured him.
“This is good timing, actually!” The photographer, George was sure her name was Anya, gestured for you to come closer. “Would you stand in a few shots with George for me?” Your eyes widened.
“Me?”
“Why not? If you don’t like them, we can cut you out!” Your brows furrowed.
“I have content—” you went to make the excuse, but your gaggle of rookies had vanished, almost too quickly.
“It won’t take long,” Anya promised. “Only a few minutes.” You looked to George, who nodded.
“What the hell, why not?” You reached for the summer shirt and rushed behind curtains to change. Your team uniform didn’t allow for much summer imagination, but you still slipped into the kid pool with bare feet and let Anya slip a floater over your head.
“We look coordinated,” George observed.
“I look ridiculous,” you whispered as you both flashed a smile at the camera.
“You look fine,” George assured you. You shot a glance up at him, letting yourself admire him for a moment. Just a look. The most you would allow yourself.
“Thanks,” you breathed as George turned to face you. He pulled his sunglasses off his face and slid them over your eyes. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you heard the camera going off. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when he was looking at you like you mattered to him.
“You make shoots like these better,” George admitted. You felt your face warm under his intense stare. Something you hadn’t done since you were a kid. He brought that out of you, feelings you expected to leave behind when you turned nineteen. Here you were, seven years later, still feeling them.
“You make filming the ultra rich better,” you parroted back. George found himself laughing, the loud and boisterous one you swore felt like a sugar rush. He stepped back, holding his hand to his chest as he let the laughs escape him. You couldn’t help but start laughing.
“That’s not funny!” You hissed through laughter.
“I’m your favourite rich person, that’s a tall order!”
“You have the tall part down. I don’t know about favourite.” George snorted.
“Yeah, right. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You both turned to Anya, who looked demented with her wide eyes and gleeful smile.
“One last photo and then you’re set, George,” Anya assured him. “Can you move-” she adjusted you to be in front of him.
“Okay, perfect, just lean forward and give a big smile!” George leaned down, his arms snaking around you. You froze, shoulders tense. He noticed. He always noticed.
“You alright?”
“You just … scared me.”
“It’s just me,” he assured you. That was the bloody problem. Everything George had started to make everything make a lot more sense. He’d become a proper thorn in your side now, one you didn’t want to remove.
You didn’t stick around to see the photos.
youruser 🔒 taking days off (ft georgie)
liked by georgerussell63, lando, alexalbon, kimi.antonelli, and 18 others
view 29 comments ...
kimi.antonelli He forced you to take him again????
georgerussell63 Hey! I was invited! Of their own free will!
youruser he does make a good vacation buddy (unfortunately)
kimi.antonelli very inch resting
georgerussell63 Mate, what?
kimi.antonelli Nothing, enjoy your vacation mate!
maxverstappen1 Very nice cat
youruser she was the sweetest, you'd love her, max
maxverstappen1 And yet you take George?
georgerussell63 Not my fault I'm more desirable
lando who's that handsome lad in the second photo and is he single?
youruser pls take him he keeps asking if we can go karting (it's against the rules)
georgerussell63 Out of all the photos you took of me, you choose that one?
youruser i have an eye for these things
georgerussell Right, sure thing
youruser ... i can post some nicer ones of you if you want
alexalbon eyes emoji dms at once
INSTAGRAM DMs — alexalbon
alexalbon: You're being so obvious
you: wdym???
alexalbon: You have the biggest crush on him and you don't know how to act around him anymore!
you: dehywgrbvndskoc
alexalbon: 🧍🏼
you: sorry threw my phone so george wouldn't see
you: you're fucking psychic or something mate i was gonna scream at you about it
alexalbon: how long?
you: ... since he got tea for me
alexalbon: aT THE START OF THE SEASON?!
you: yeah lmao how pathetic am i?
alexalbon: i'm surprised you haven't exploded yet
you: idk man he's being a douche on purpose
alexalbon: or ... hear me out ... he likes you back
you: now why would you say that to me
alexalbon: think about it!! he gave you tea, people know when you film content bc he's happier, and he goes out of his way to spend every second he can with you.
alexalbon: girl if you deny me i'm telling george bc we both know it's true, tell me ur not that dumb
you: oKAY DAMN
you: i've had a suspicion since the summer shoot we did a few weeks ago
alexalbon: those photos?? oh, he is so in love it's sickening
you: nbhertgbfv okokok
alexalbon: tell him tomorrow night or i'm flying out there and hosting an intervention
you: 👍
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆
"Do you ever wonder if shells have feelings?" George asked, under the sunset. You both had walked down to the beach from the apartment you were staying in for the week. Two bedrooms, separated by thin walls. You couldn't sleep, replaying your conversation with Alex on repeat in your brain. Tell him tonight. It was the perfect place to do it. Romance novel level. The sunset, the gentle lull of the waves, him at his most relaxed. Why couldn't you talk?
I like you, the words seemed so easy to say. But every time you opened your mouth, they caught. You choked, and backed down. That intervention didn't sound do bad right now.
"What?" You asked.
"Do shells have feelings?" George repeated the question.
"Are you being serious?" You asked because you didn't have a real answer.
"No, not really. I just wanted to start a conversation," George admitted. You chuckled to yourself, adjusting your hands in your lap. "You alright? You've been off today." So he noticed. Shit.
"Off?"
"Zoning out and stuff, you only do that when you're thinking about something."
"I didn't think you'd notice," you admitted. George's brows furrowed.
"I notice everything about you." He wasn't making this easy. The opposite, actually. The way he was looking at you, like knowing you was a privilege, it was tugging at your heartstrings. This dance was getting tiring. Six months of pretending that your heart didn't flip whenever he looked at you. Tired of pretending that he wasn't the first person you looked for. Tired of pretending that George Russell wasn't the most important person in the world.
"Don't do that," you protested.
"Do what?"
"Say stuff like that." George tilted his head.
"How'd you mean?"
"'I notice everything about you' and 'it's just me'."
"I'm quite proud of those, actually." You groaned into your hands. "Am I overstepping? Because if my flirting makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop." You looked up from between your fingers, heat filling your cheeks.
"What?"
"I've been flirting with you for the past six months. Longer than that, actually. For the past ten years." You blinked as he reached out to lower your hands." George offered you a smile. "You okay?" He asked. How could you be okay when your world had been swept out from under you.
"More than okay," you breathed. George let himself smile. "I thought I was overthinking again and projecting my feeling onto the best friendship I've ever had." You ducked your head, tearing yourself away from his eyes.
"I thought I was ruining everything."
"Darling, you couldn't ruin anything if you tried."
youruser 🔒 it's just him <3
liked by georgerussell63, lando, alexalbon, kimi.antonelli, mercedesamgf1, and 28 others
taste - danceracha ۶ৎ when a stupid game of truth or dare has you laying beneath your hot roommate as he does pushups
ˊᗜˋ roommate!jake x fem!reader┆fluff┆petnames, kisses, swearing, minsung cameo┆wc 497
𝗯★𝗻𝗷𝗶 HAPPY BIRTHDAY @koiiq !!!!!!!!!!!!!! literally what would i do without you twin. my sun to my won, my ceo mafia boss to my yn, have the happiest of birthdays my lovely <333 MWAHHHH
your roommate was going to be the death of you. he was hot as fuck and there was no denying it.
jake sim was the definition of “oh my god my roommate is so hot but if i date him things might go wrong and i might end up homeless” if that was even a common statement. he had a gorgeous puppy-like smile that contrasted with his eye candy muscles.
you knew he was also the definition of a “sleeper build” because you have never once seen jake workout without complaining within the first 5 seconds.
it was impossible not to have feelings for the man! he was charming, funny, and very considerate, never once leaving a mess around your shared apartment.
however, one evening with your best friends, minho and jisung, led to either the worst mistake of your life or the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
the three of you were perched at your kitchen island, happily catching up over some greasy food.
“why don’t you have mr. hottie join us?” jisung snickers, a stupidly smug grin on his lips.
“no way! i don’t wanna make him uncomfortable..” you blurt out too quickly, your heart rate spiking at the mention of jake.
“just admit you don’t want him here cause you’re scared,” minho teases, childishly sticking his tongue out at you. you flip him off.
“whatever, let’s play truth or dare,” jisung grins like he’s five.
“ji, what are we? high schoolers?” you snort, bringing your knees up to your chest. but still, you agree.
it’s easy at first, simple things like “when was your last kiss?” or “i dare you to go scream the lyrics to stateside out the window” until minho decided to be the fucking menace he is.
“ynnie, truth or dare?” he smirks, the same smirk he wore when he was up to no good.
“dare,” you exhale, feeling risky.
“i dare you to get jake to do a pushup with you underneath him,” he laughs like the devil he is.
“i hate you lee minho.”
so here you are, laying on the floor of jake’s room, with your crazy hot, crazy buff roommate smirking over you.
“since when did you get so risky?” he questions, his gaze sharp on you.
you don’t answer.
you don’t dare make a sound when he sets his hands beside your head and hovers directly over you. you don’t even know you exist when he lowers himself down for the push up, but never actually goes back up, staying centimeters away from your face.
you can feel his lips ghosting yours, and the tension is so thick you feel like you’e suffocating in it.
“sweetheart, can i kiss you?” he breathes, your noses brushing together.
you don’t trust your voice, so you nod.
and with that, his lips finally crash against yours and suddenly, you feel like the main character of a fanfiction who finally confessed to her roommate after years of pining.
𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : being steve harringtons girlfriend is not easy.. between dealing with crazy ex girlfriends and your boyfriend almost getting killed by monsters, you are stretched to the limit. steve is the most kind and supportive boyfriend you could ask for though, always making sure he's there for you. so, when you ask for his help with your homework, steve is happy to oblige. little does he know, this homework is a little unconventional...
𝓐/𝓝 : holy shit stranger things s5? wtf. like actually wtf. anyways im back on that steve harrington wagon so enjoy my weekly fixation on him before i go back to stiles stilinski lol
𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : no use of y/n, grinding, making out, banter, steve from like season 2? idk what season steve this is tbh, a little ooc but he's still hot dw, steve is taller than reader, reader studies psychology in some capacity, subby steve but like still in control yk, kinda sad bit, steve's dad sucks
"steve, the girl in the car next to us is staring.. hard." you murmur quietly under your breath, trying to make it look like you aren't even talking. looking straight ahead, you can still see her eyes burning a hole into the window through your peripheral vision.
"yea, i know hon, just ignore her."
"what do you think im doing?!"
finally, the light turns green and he pushes on the accelerator, leaving his mega fan at the stoplight. a breath comes out and you look at him, astonished.
"i know you said you've been around, and obviously i don't care, but how on earth do we manage to find a fling at every place we go to together?! i might have to make a bingo card with all the places at this point."
"you make me sound like such a man-whore."
"i'm not making it sound like anything, that is what you are harrington. a raging man-whore."
steve looks over, unimpressed by your insults. his hair, perfectly styled on his head, is getting in the way of looking at his side profile, which you stare at, unashamed. steve is so beautiful, it is a miracle he even noticed your existence. you're not ugly, not at all. you've got your own look and style, making sure to highlight your natural features and flaws too.
but steve just radiates cool and collected energy. he just stands out from everyone else, his personality is captivating and charming. he's everything and somehow, he noticed you. well, you noticed him.
you were sitting at the back of math, struggling to find the answer to a simple question when you noticed steve 'the hair' harrington, sneaking looks at your paper.
"what are you doing..?"
you whispered to him quietly and he looked up at you alarmed, but his face immediately dropped when seeing you.
months later when he finally asked you if he could be your boyfriend, he described the moment. time slowed down and all he could focus on was your eyes, peering into his so curiously but with a hint of humor.
steve said he was entranced by your beauty and natural poise. you giggled at that, thinking it was a ridiculous statement but steve deadpanned and told you that you were one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen.
remembering the moment now was very nostalgic, even though it had only been six months since you started dating. now, sitting in his passenger seat watching him, you reach across to adjust his hair so you can see him more clearly.
"ah, watch the hair!"
"oh whatever steve, you love it when i fix your hair."
he lets out a gruntled noise and lets you run your fingers through the strands. you style it back to its original puff but with room to see his face from your seat.
you go back down to your seat but lay your legs over his lap. you lay your body on the long front seat and feel steve instinctively set his hand on your knee. his thumb rubs the skin and you keep staring at his face from your position.
"oh shit, i forgot."
"what, what?"
"will you help me with my psychology homework?"
"…why? why on earth would you want my help?"
"aw stevie please! i need your help."
he sighs and looks down at you, skeptically looking for a con. steve is smart to look for one, he knows you well. he'll never see this one coming though.
"..alright, when we get back to my place, i'll help you study."
"thanks baby."
throwing the pet name at him, you watch a smirk creep onto his lips and his hand moves to your thigh instead to pat it goodheartedly. you sigh and lean your head back until it hits the leather seat and you can shape the stains on the roof.
"when you said you had homework, this isn't what i had in mind.."
you laugh and keep working at steves bicep with a pen, poking and prodding at different spots. you're straddling his lap and he's laying under you, starfish style, in nothing but his boxers. a wet dream come true.
you really do have homework, it would probably be fine to just complete the paper labeled 'sexual desires, arousal and erogenous areas' but this was more fun, and steve doesn't have to know. as you trace your pen along his arm and bicep, you watch his face for any signs of arousal or desire. nothing. his eyes remain up at the ceiling and his crotch is undeniably soft.
it would be better if you could actually touch him, but the hands on study you are conducting needs to be neutral. if you were using your own hands to trace along his different body areas, steve would probably cum in his pants on account of it being you. that isn't viable research and you do need to do well on this section of psychology.
"baby, what are you supposed to be doing right now?"
"the unit my class is studying right now is the psychology of arousal and sexuality. i'm conducting an experiment on you stevie."
his breath halts, before continuing at a regular pace. i should probably write that down..
"wait, you're trying to turn me on with your pen!?"
you groan and stop tracing along his ribcage. you grab his chin and force steve to look you in the eyes.
"i am trying to find your erogenous zones. i am trying to conduct research but if i touch you with my actual hands, the data isn't neutral anymore."
his face is squished up in your hand so he just blinks and you let him go. steve lays back down with his hands behind his head and he watches you trace a swirly pattern onto his pec.
"something tells me this wasn't actually your homework..."
your silence speaks volumes, and you stop your pen again, peering up at him through your eyelashes and smiling sweetly.
"just some extra curricular work, that's all honey."
steve laughs and his chest shakes. his hands come out from behind his head to hold onto your hips, pressing you down onto his lap harder.
"well, i am fine to help you but... what do i get in return baby?"
you smirk and lean your face down to his, your mouth hovering above steve's. his breath is hot and you look down at his lips, slightly open and looking perfect. kissable.
"mmmm, i don't know... what on earth could steve harrington want from his girlfriend..?"
steve smiles and looks down at your lips before leaning up and connecting your mouths. his kiss is soft and slow, his hands coming around to hold the small of your back. you let your hands rest on his torso and trace circles onto the hair that sits on his chest. steve smiles and leans his head to the side to get a better angle and you use the opportunity to push his head down back onto the bed.
you feel his cock stand up between your legs and you grind down onto it, steve squeezing your flesh tighter at that. the hard bulge presses onto your clit and you gasp softly, letting steve slip his over eager tongue into your mouth.
you move your hands from his chest to his hair, pulling at the long strands and listening to him groan into your mouth, kissing harder and thrusting his hips up into your warmth. you moan and he kisses up into your mouth, straining his neck to reach.
one of steve's hands starts to unbutton your blouse, starting from the top and reaching the middle before his hand comes to cup your tit through your pink bra.
you pull away, breathing heavy and eyes dilated. steve looks into your eyes and rubs his hands along your waistline. his erections is pressing into your thigh and when you try move so steve can be more comfortable, he groans and pins you in place.
"don't. move."
"aw baby, are you gonna cum?"
"shhhhh..."
you smile cheekily and lean down to kiss his neck, sucking and biting at the hickeys you gave him a few days ago. you turn your head up slightly to whisper into steve's ear.
"it's okay hon, i just want you to feel good."
you nibble at his earlobe and a helpless whimper leaves him as you start to slowly circle your hips. you quietly say sweet nothings into his ear while kissing his neck and grinding down onto him, letting his groans and whimpers encourage you.
"no, baby stop. stop, stop."
you immediately stop and your lips pull off his neck with a quiet pop. you bring your hand down to caress his face, making sure he's okay.
"shit, what's wrong?"
"nothing, nothing. you're amazing, but... i think i just heard my dad pull up the drive."
you strain your ears for any sound and sure enough, you hear a car door slam shut and keys jingling.
"fuck fuck fuck"
you quickly climb off steve and toss him his pants. you quickly rebutton your shirt and attempt to pat steve's hair down to look less sex-driven. his hickey's are turning purple now so he grabs a sweater from his hamper that has the high school crest on it.
you look at both of you in the mirror. fuck it's so obvious you were making out. steve gives you a smile that says what can you do? and grabs your hand to drag you downstairs.
.....
"hey dad."
steve calls out and starts to walk down the stairs with you trailing behind him. you're not fond of steve's dad. he's obviously told you about him and you've met him once or twice but his attitude towards steve is so rotten it makes you sick.
not to mention he treats you like he's too good for you. like you're some trash his son brought home and he's above you.
steve wants his approval so badly it makes your chest hurt. you feel for him in that way, wanting approval from parents.
"hello son."
you can see his suit clad figure from the stairs and you pause at the bottom, letting go of steve's hand.
he looks up at you questioning and you assure him it's fine, telling him to go talk to his dad. you haven't seen his father in months and reminding the man of your name can get tiring.
steve goes up behind him and starts talking to him, trying to start a conversation. his dad just sneers slightly and walks toward the kitchen. your heart sinks as steve's shoulders fall. poor stevie.
you walk over to where he remained standing and grab onto his arm. he looks down at you with sad eyes and you lean into him.
"are you okay..?" you whisper and steve clears his throat. he looks back down and nods.
"i don't even know why i try at this point."
"you try because you see the good in people. you're an amazing person and if your father can't see that then that is truly his loss."
steve smiles and leans down to kiss you on the forehead. you come around to hug him and you nuzzle your face into his neck as steve tightens his arms around your waist, clinging to you.
you both stand there for a while before steve pulls away and grabs your hand with his. as you pass the kitchen, you see his dad on the phone with someone and can hear him raising his voice, insulting the person on the other side.
steve leads you up the stairs and you head to his room, shutting the door. you both hear his dad yell some more before slamming the receiver down. he then yells out to steve, something muffled and then the front door slams shut. his car pulls away and you're alone again.
"god what an asshole."
you nod and look at him again, making sure he's okay. steve doesn't look too bothered by it anymore though, looking down at you with heavy eyes.
May I request a man who yearns is a men’s who earns with my lovable Idia shroud?
【❝A Man Who Yearns Is A Man Who Earns pt. 6❞】
【Synopsis: In which your boyfriend realizes just how lucky he is to have you in his life】
【Featuring: Idia Shroud】
【Tags: gn reader, reader is yuu/prefect, established relationship, light angst to fluff, Idia are down horrendous lol, typical Idia cringe lol (love him tho), mild hurt/comfort, let me know if I missed anything】
【Word count: 757】
【a/n: hey hey hey anon, here’s your food!! Ngl, I’m not the biggest fan of Idia (probably bc he reminds me too much of myself now that I think about it) but I’ve started to come around to him recently! As a certified gamer (cringe) myself, I always have a great time writing Idia bc I get to make references and stuff, so this was a lot of fun! Anyway, eat up and I hope you enjoy! ;3】
Idia Shroud never saw the point in leveling up his charm.
To be fair, it's pretty useless for a shut-in like himself, so he was beyond surprised when he found himself unlocking your romance route without even trying that hard. Somehow, without a guide to tell him what dialogue options to choose or a handle list of your loved gifts, Idia managed to woo you.
It's been months since you started dating — you were the one to ask him out, of course — and he's still unlocking new cutscenes and events. Just last week, Idia managed to get your super secret sleepover event, and the week before that he finally got your affection high enough to get new dialogue out of you — which in normal person terms means you said 'I love you' for the first time.
Idia still can't believe he's the main character in his own romance anime! Even now, without you lying on his bed, scrolling on your phone while he focuses on a limited-time raid event, he still can't fathom that if all the other romance options at NRC, that you chose him.
Talk about a high luck stat.
"I don't know how I ever managed to live without you." The admission comes quietly while Idia is queuing up with his party. He really hopes that this wasn't the wrong dialogue option because he can't just reload a save and try again. Ughh, the real world is just so tedious.
"Aww, that's real sweet, Ids, but I'm sure you would have gotten in just fine without me. I mean, you'd never even know I existed if I didn't randomly end up here." Idia just blinks at you, wide-eyed and in shock at your statement, and it's then that he truly realizes just how much his luck stat has come in clutch.
Much to your surprise, Idia abandons his raid not long after his realization. Instead, he chooses to come join you in bed — his bed — for some cuddles. He lets you run fingers through the wispy flames that he calls his hair. You thankfully don't call out the pink hue creeping up from his ends because he's sure he's about to fail a skill check and have a breakdown if you teased him right now.
You let Idia cling to you all he wants without a word. He's not usually so… eager or open with his affections — he gets flustered very easily — so you're not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Well, not at first, at least.
You begin to question just what brought all this on when Idia's clinginess lasts much longer than it usually does. You first raised an eyebrow when he tried oh so hard to get you to skip classes and spend the day with him instead — something he'd never done before. It was cute watching him beg and plead for you to stay with him — you liked it far more than you care to admit — but the real kicker was when he actually went out of his way to leave his room just to follow you around all day.
"So, what's up?" Idia literally flinches at the question, letting out a pitiful little squeak and curling in on himself next to you. Well, that's certainly an interesting reaction. You let him take a moment to calm down, watching him expectantly from the other end of the bench you're sharing.
"I-I just wanted to play co-op today. Two's better than one, right? I'm lucky that I didn't fail your romance route, ya know? I figure that I should spend some time increasing your affinity rank — even if that means going out of my comfort zone." That familiar pink tinge begins to creep up his fiery locks, and you can't help but smile as a similar hue finds its way to his pale cheeks. You have half the mind to tease him until he combusts, but you decide against it.
No, what Idia needs isn't teasing, it's praise. Hell, he deserves it for even taking a step out of his room, let alone being outside and around other people for the entire day.
"Awww, you're so sweet, Ids. C'mere, let me give my player one a kiss for being such a good co-op companion all day!"
With a head of pink flames, Idia lets you hug and kiss him as you please and as you do, he finds himself glad that he braved the world outside his room — he wouldn't have unlocked this special cutscene if he didn't.
