timeforlunch
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lando: Research indicates that it takes a mere 90 seconds to four minutes for the average person to decide if they are romantically interested in someone they’ve just met.
alex: did you copy and paste that from google?
lando: no
from marriage.com—
oscar finds himself in a calculus class with his hot next door neighbor
Bookmarked by timeforlunch
28 Feb 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 4 OMFG
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Lando loves making the crown prince laugh. It’s his favorite sight, his favorite sound. And too often than not, he wonders what that pale skin would feel like against his fingertips.
Under the tutelage of a new confidant posing as the most venerated jester of his time, he finds himself a hair’s width away.
Bookmarked by timeforlunch
19 May 2026
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WHATT THE FUKC THIS IS SO FUNNY AND CHARMING AND MOVING “[…] a man whose simple desire in life is to make another person laugh” 😭😭😭??? 😭😭. this jester shit gets serious
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Lando attaches the blushy, pouty photo and sends it, then locks his phone and drops it onto the carpet beside him, staring up at the ceiling.
There’s a pause, stretching suspiciously long.
A faint click echoes through the call. Mute. Then unmute again.
“Sorry,” OP says when he comes back, his voice rougher now. “Thought someone was at the door.”
Or: Lando loses an F1 championship and signs up for a charity Minecraft speedrunning tournament to cope with his existential crisis. Turns out his coach, faceless speedrunning champion OP81, might be a bit of a fanboy.
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“Don’t you get weird vibes?”
“Weird vibes?” Oscar repeats, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah. Like… I don’t know. Like there’s something we’re not being told, something we don’t know.”
“It’s space. There’s always something we don’t know.”
Lando opens his mouth to argue… but nothing comes out. He processes Oscar’s reply.
Technically, he’s right.
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Lando is a Mecha Pilot, and Oscar is his mysterious new partner.
Bookmarked by timeforlunch
16 Apr 2026
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SO FUCKING INSANE how do ueven think this up
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“I won’t laugh.” Bucky straightens out both his back and his expression and scoots closer, knee colliding with Sam’s own. He keeps it there; it feels hot and solid, even through the kevlar. “C’mon, I promise. Just tell me.”
Sam turns it over in his head for a long moment. Swallows hard. Rubs his palms across his thighs.
“Okay,” he says, looking away. “Do you believe in ghosts, man?”
Bucky laughs, the asshole.
Sam has been haunted all his life. This is the first time he's ever thought of telling anyone about it.
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Bookmarked by timeforlunch
16 Apr 2025
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my head is actually reeling this is one of the best fics i’ve ever read . it’s 9pm on a weekday how the hell am i supposed to move on