#HOPEFULLY WE CAN MEET SOME MORE OF THE NEW PEOPLE

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

GUYS SOC SATURDAY IS TOMORROW

[pavasariosonetai]

i think my main hope for next year is more travelling, especially bc i didnt get to travel much this year

[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

[theonottsbxtch]

Can we get part 2 of secret sister by any chance? loved it

Secret Sister Part Two | OP81

a/n: i need you to know that i sat in my bed giggling and kicking my feet when i saw this and i’m currently sat in the airport at 6:35 am giggling writing this 🤍

fc: sophia birlem & pinterest photos

requests: open

ynnorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, mclaren and 1826 others

hungry for hungary 🦁

*tap to load comments*

yourbestfriend: that caption gave me the ick

ynnorris: you love me

yourbestfriend: i really don’t know why i do

userone: shes going to watch the gp!!!

usertwo: begging for cute oscar photos

userthree: look at her watching quali 🥹

logansargeant: first gp?

ynnorris: yessir

logansargeant: enjoy!

userfour: why is oscar holding her upside down?

oscarpiastri: dragging her away from build a bear

ynnorris: you and i are not friends anymore

landonorris: there is NO way i just found out you’re coming to the gp VIA INSTAGRAM

whatsapp

f1wags

liked by userone, usertwo, userthree and 9,782 more

new spotting in the paddock! lando norris’ newly revealed sister and oscar’s girlfriend👀? lando introduced his sister to the world on her 21st over 8 months ago for safety and privacy reasons. her and her brother’s teammate hit it off quite quickly after that, making his first move in norris’ comment section. the two of them keep their relationship as private as they can but we can’t deny that when they do feed us the crumbs, we love all of it. according to yn, this is her first ever gp. can’t wait to see oscar and her together!

*tap to load more comments*

userone: has anyone checked in on lando?

yourbestfriend: he’s throwing up in the toilet rn

usertwo: it’s nine months of their relationship in a week plz😭

yourbestfriend: he still complains

userthree: ahhh cant wait to see her!

userfour: hopefully i meet her 🙂

userfive: the IT couple

ynnorris

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 8,462 more

so so proud of my boys <3

*tap to load more comments*

oscarpiastri: love you 🤍🧡

userone: someone tell her she’s gotta pick a side

usertwo: mclaren did lando so dirty

userthree: guys she can support both her brother and boyfriend

userfour: dickrider

landonorris: love you lil sis x

userfive: how can you post this knowing mclaren stole a win off your brother and gave it to your boyfriend

*comments have been disabled*

oscarpiastri

liked by ynnorris, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 16,837 others

my first f1 win, couldn’t have done it without a lot of people but my pr manager said i had to keep this short and sweet

*tap to load more comments*

ynnorris: congratulations my love 🤍🧡

landonorris: congrats mate!

userone: you were done so dirty oscar

usertwo: lando deserved that win

userthree: fuck mclaren

maxverstappen1: well deserved!

userfour: lol

*comments have been disabled*

landonorris

liked by ynnorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 19,268 more

well deserved win for osc, spa next 🔜

*comments have been disabled*

phone call between lando and yn

l: yn? are you okay it’s 3am?

y: lando i’m scared

l: what’s wrong? are you in your hotel room?

y: i’m in oscar’s but i don’t want to wake him up, i’m in the bathroom

l: what’s wrong?

y: i keep recieving really mean messages and even some death threats, i should have listened to you and not made my account public i’m so sorry for not listening to you lan-

l: yn it’s okay, it’s not your fault, unfortunately this is what comes with this sport.

y: i’m scared

l: listen i want you to wake up oscar and tell him how you’re feeling right now. he’ll be able to comfort you right now, tomorrow morning we’ll speak to our pr and see what they say but try and get some sleep, wipe your tears and wake osc up okay?

y: i’m so sorry

l: you didn’t do anything wrong, i’m sorry you’re feeling the brunt of our stuff.

y: love you lan

l: love you ynn

oscar’s hotel room 3:17am

Picking herself up off the floor, yn glanced at her reflection in the dimly lit mirror. She wiped away the tears that had been streaming down her cheeks, wincing slightly at the redness that had set in. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, and attempted to make her face look presentable. With a final sigh, she opened the bathroom door and stepped into the dark bedroom. Her eyes softened as she took in the sight of Oscar, lying peacefully in bed, his face serene and calm.

Despite the turmoil inside her, she couldn't help but smile at how adorable he looked, lost in his dreams. Pushing her guilt and insecurities aside, she made her way over to his side of the bed. Gently, she reached out and tapped his shoulder. "Osc."

Oscar stirred slightly, his eyes remaining closed. "Yeah?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "You okay?"

Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to begin. "I..." she faltered, then continued, "No, not really." Oscar opened his eyes just a fraction, enough for her to see the concern etched in his sleepy gaze. "I saw what people were saying about me online, and—"

Before she could finish, Oscar reached out and pulled her into the bed beside him. She sat at the edge, struggling to hold back more tears as he gently took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He let out a soft, disappointed sigh. "I'm so sorry you had to see that."

"It's not your fault," she replied, shaking her head.

"And it's yours?" he countered gently. The way he said it made her realise how misplaced her thoughts had been. "Come here." He pulled her into his arms, and she nestled against him, feeling the warmth and safety of his embrace. Oscar held her tightly, as if trying to shield her from the cruel world outside.

"They were really mean," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"I know," Oscar murmured, his breath warm against her bare shoulder. "Unfortunately, it's something we drivers get used to, but it's always rough for someone new to the world of F1."

She let out a small, breathy laugh. "Talk about being new to the world, quite literally." A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Lando said he’d talk to his team tomorrow."

"We'll talk to the team tomorrow," Oscar corrected softly. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. "Hey, how about you tell me about your new project? You haven't mentioned it yet." His tone was gentle, encouraging, as if trying to distract her from her worries.

Yn looked at him, her heart swelling with love. The tears that had threatened to spill moments ago were now replaced by a shy, bashful smile. "Have I ever told you I love you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Oscar's eyes sparkled with affection. "Once or twice, I'm sure, but definitely not enough."

A warm, contented feeling settled over her. "I love you, Osc."

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead tenderly. "I love you too, more than anything." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and added, "No matter what anyone says, you are amazing, and I'm so proud of you."

ynnorris

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 8,172 others

this past weekend was tough on both mclaren drivers, decisons were made and oscar and lando are both excellent and talented drivers. lando is my brother and oscar is my boyfriend and best friend, there will never be a day where i chose between the two of them when they’re on a podium. i love them both so deeply and i will never pick a favourite.

*comments have been disabled*

oscarpiastri

liked by ynnorris, landonorris, logansargeant and 19,632 others

spa next weekend and summer break with this one

*only some users may comment*

landonorris: good riddance, she’s driving me up the wall

yourbestfriend: why are you always carrying her like that?

oscarpiastri: she can’t be trusted with money

ynnorris: love you 🤍🧡

[acesofspadess]

Track Walk

landoscar x content creator!reader

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

series summary: You were invited to the Miami GP for your Track Walk series on social media, what follows after you run into a certain Papaya boy, no one could prepare you for...

series warnings: cursing, angst, smut, making out, mentions of people you may not like, mmf, threesome/throuple, if there is more let me know... ;)

a/n: this a long 4 part series, but the chapters will be released daily!! also... there is no hate to anyone mention in this story, it is a work of fiction and any hate towards the characters/people will be deleted.

Miami 2024 

“Hello lovely F1 fans!” You said to the camera you were holding quite close to your face, “We’ve got a bit of a different setting today, because we are at the…” You took the camera away from your face to show the full setting, “Miami GP!”

You were a small F1 content creator who had become known for your at home ‘track-walks’. Every Thursday you would walk around your neighbourhood or get on the treadmill and walk the length of the race circuit for the weekend.

“This is my first ever GP, as you all know, and I just can’t explain to you all how excited I am. A big thank you to Liquid IV for sponsoring this trip, and this video. We are starting at the P1 box, because obviously. We’ve got a total of 5.4 kilometers to walk, so let's get to it.”

Throughout the walk you filmed information on the track, the city, the race, and even some snippets of fans who happened to know who you were.You were doing a light run when at one point in the video you saw a group of papaya and flipped the camera at them and slowed to a light jog, “I think those are our papaya boys, if I’m not mistaken.” You whispered into the mic. As you jogged past them you looked up and saw it was just Lando with some of his team. 

“Good luck this weekend.” You called out as you surpassed them. “Cheers!” Lando called out with a small smile. You smiled back and continued with your jog and video. “Meeting Lando Norris, can check that off the bucket list.” You laughed softly to the camera. When you made it back to the P1 box you started to end the video. “Well that was so much fun, thank you again to Liquid IV for bringing me out here. Cheers to a hopefully amazing weekend.”

An amazing weekend it was indeed. That Sunday you watched Lando Norris get his maiden win. It was safe to say you were crying in the VIP box as he crossed the line. That night you went back to the hotel with endless happiness, your life couldn’t get any better. Or so you thought.

You woke up that morning to your phone buzzing relentlessly. Every two seconds it felt like someone was liking, commenting, and following you. You sat up in shock logging into tiktok to see that your most recent track walk video had jumped from a few thousand views and likes, to millions of each, and your follower count was soaring as well.

You went through some of the comments laughing at them saying this was your first grand prix and it was the best one ever. Some said you wishing him luck was the reason he won and you replied to those comments teasingly.

It was a few hours later when you were getting ready to head back home that you saw the best notifications. 

Lando Norris liked your video

Lando Norris commented on your video

You were thoroughly freaking out. You opened tiktok for the hundredth time that day to see if your eyes were deceiving you, they were not.

Lando Norris: "Maybe this was my lucky charm. Thanks for the good vibes! 🧡"

You screamed in the comfort of your hotel room as you read it, replying back.

“I’ll need to come to a lot more races this season if this is the outcome. Congratulations! 🧡”

Hungary 2024

A few weeks had passed since Miami and everything that came with it. You still continued on your content journey with track walks and other videos with your new following. “Hello lovely F1 fans, old and new. We are here with another special edition track walk!” You cheered showing your surroundings. “I’ve been doing some overtime and made my way to the Hungaroring, so let’s go on a walk…” 

The walk itself went as normal, shared some info, showed the surroundings, and made it seem like a facetime time call. It was almost comical how when you were walking off the track you actually bumped into someone, that someone being Oscar Piastri. “I’m so sorry, I was not paying any attention.” You apologised immediately. He just chuckled, waving you off. “Don’t worry about it. Making a video?” He said looking at the camera. You nodded shyly. “Yeah another track walk.” He nodded at the information, slowly getting awkward. “Well, in true fashion. Good luck this weekend.” You bid and he thanked you with a chuckle.

Once again, it was a Mclaren win. This time, it was for Oscar. You were starting to go a little crazy. How was it that everytime you came to a race McLaren won? Again your video blew up, and like clock work, Oscar commented.

Oscar Piastri liked your video

Oscar Piastri commented on your video

You opened the video and tapped on the comments to see what he had put…

Oscar Piastri: Guess I owe you a huge thank you for the good luck wishes. Let's see if this works every time!”

You giggled lightly at the comment before writing a reply back…

“I’d go to every race if I could! Congratulations !!!”

Zandvoort 2024

Over the summer break you worked endlessly on your upcoming finals for your graduation in December. You were missing F1, and needed your fix. In a last ditch attempt at getting your best friend to come with you, you ended up back in Zandvoort.  “Hello F1 friends! We are here in Zandvoort, home of Max Verstappen. We’ve got lots of orange here so I’m just going to say everyone is in papaya.” 

There was no meeting on track this go around, but that night just as you were getting ready to call it, you got a DM from McLaren. You thought it was just a community thing and glanced at it, but when you saw your name, you sat up quickly. You opened it with shaky hands and read the message:

“Hey Y/N!! Hope you're enjoying your weekend in Zandvoort so far! You’ve got a name here in McLaren and we want to invite you to spend the rest of the weekend with the team in the garage! If you send us a photo of yourself, we can get you your passes by morning! Just give us a call when you get there and let us take care of everything else.” 

It was safe to say you might be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbours. Immediately you grabbed your camera and turned it on. “Hi friends, I’m shaking right now,” you laughed in shock. “McLaren just invited me to their garage this weekend. What the fuck?!” You showed the camera your phone where the message was still up. “Your girl is going to the McLaren garage, which means vlog time.”

You cut the video there and replied to McLaren with immense gratitude and a photo.

Walking up to the paddock entrance you had phoned McLaren and let them know you were walking up. You saw someone in Papaya and they waved at you enthusiastically. She passed you your passes over the barrier so that you could scan in. “This is crazy.” You said while she laughed. “I run all the social media accounts, and when I saw your videos I just had to pull some strings for you. You’re genuine, we like that at McLaren.” She told you honestly and you smiled bashfully. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

She then gave you a run through of everything happening in the garage, in the hub, and in the paddock revolving McLaren. The paddock wasn’t new to you, but this whole experience was strange to you. “And then you have a scooter to get around as well. Just don’t hit anyone because papaya is an easy colour to notice.” You laughed with her knowing how true it was. “I’ll do my best.”

You bounced between sides all morning, watching the teams set up the car for Lando and Oscar. You loved both drivers equally, you would never be able to choose one. You were on Lando’s side not paying much attention to your surroundings when two bodies stood in front of you. You looked up to get out of the way when you saw Oscar and Lando. “Following us now?” Lando asked with a smile. “I should ask you the same thing.” You shot back and Oscar chuckled. “They told us this morning you would be here for the rest of the weekend. It’s nice to see you.” Lando nodded in agreement and smiled happily. “It was a last minute decision to come,” you told them, “and then I got invited into the garage, it’s definitely going to be a good weekend.” The three of you laughed softly knowing the hidden meaning. “Well I’m certainly looking forward to a win this weekend.” Oscar shared. “She was my lucky charm first.” Lando pointed out. “Don’t fight!” You laughed, “I’ll be cheering the both of you on, see?” You took off your hat to show the underside of the brim. Each side had a number on it. “I stitched two of them together.” You informed. “That’s actually really cool.” Oscar said, taking the hat for a closer look.

“Your nails! Osc look at them.” Lando said taking your hands in his and showing off your nails, one hand was dedicated to Lando and his famous helmet design, and the other side was Oscars helmet design with a croissant on the ring finger. “Very funny.” He said when he saw it. “It was this or a cat.” You shrugged and Lando laughed as Oscar shook his head.

“Boys!” The two drivers looked behind them to see the clock counting down. “I will not be the reason you two don’t win this weekend so do go.” You pushed them lightly. “Thank you for coming, we’ll chat again later.” Lando said, going in for a hug. “Of course, go top both practices.” You cheered as Oscar also gave you a hug before the both of them went to their respective sides of the garage.

f1gossipofficial 

liked by user4 and others

f1gossipofficial Who’s that? Today before FP1 both McLaren drivers were seen talking and hugging with someone in their garage. In a different view, we can see that the person is content creator Y/N L/N who has gone viral for being the duo’s ‘good luck charm’. The three seem to be very cosy considering they’ve never officially met. 

view comments

user4 THAT SHOULD BE ME

user5 she posted a mini vlog on her tiktok this morning! She said McLaren dm’ed her and asked for her to be in the garage

User9 awwe that’s so sweet of McLaren to do for her 

user6 something about her doesn’t seem right

user7 don’t start, she’s one of the nicest people I’ve seen on tiktok

user8 another McLaren win is incoming

The following two days of the weekend were spent filming and nerding out over being in the garage. Lando and Oscar of course got super busy over the following two days, but they still managed to give you a wave when they could. Watching the race from the garage and hearing the live feed, watching the pit crew get ready for the pit stops, the actual pit stops, it was beyond magical for you. And without fail, one of the boys won, this time in Lando’s favor by 20 seconds.

You got to celebrate with the team, some of them recognising you and saying you needed to be here more often. Days like this were what you dreamed for. In between the chaos, you never managed to say goodbye to the papaya drivers, but they did DM you.

Lando Norris has followed you

Oscar Piastri has followed you

You’ve been added to a groupchat with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri

Your eyes almost flew out of your head when you saw the notifications. This wasn’t happening, you thought but you clicked on it anyway.

Lando Norris: We didn’t get the chance to say goodbye, but we just wanted to thank you for your support and coming to as many races as you can!

Oscar Piastri: Lando’s said it all, but hopefully you can come to another race soon, and we’ll try to win even if you can’t.

You laughed at the very opposite but almost the same message from each of them. Your hands were shaking as you replied back.

Y/N L/N: You were having too much fun celebrating the win! A big thank you to you guys as well for making it so easy to support a great team. Hopefully I can get to a race soon! If not I’ll be watching from home still cheering you guys on!

Oscar Piastri: you don’t have to be so formal 😂I feel like we can call you a friend if you keep helping us win

Lando Norris: what osc said, don’t be a stranger.

Y/N L/N: no need to bully me! You’re a-listers! How else was i supposed to respond

Lando Norris: OMG!!! I can’t believe you texted me!! You followed me too OMG OMG OMG. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 🧡🧡🥰🥰🥳🥳 ASGKWBEWOEHJ

Oscar Piastri: like that ^^

Y/N L/N: that’s what I’m doing on the inside lol, but i think I would block myself if I did actually typed that

Lando Norris: yeah it was a bit weird to type 😂

Oscar Piastri: great, now I have two of you

You tilted your head at the comment but shook it off. You were pretty similar to Lando on the goofy side of things.

Y/N L/N: Don’t worry Oscar, when I’m not on an adrenaline high like I am right now, I’m more like you than you think

Lando Norris: great, now there’s two of you

Oscar Piastri: i’ll have to see this in person then

Y/N L/N: is that an invite I’m hearing?

Lando Norris: sounds like it to me.

Oscar Piastri: it was indeed.

Y/N L/N: i’ll see what my work and class schedule looks like and I’ll get back to you on that offer. Graduation is soon so i’m balancing a lot of things

Lando Norris: its my offer too!!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: what do you go to school for?

Y/N L/N: noted Lando, and sports journalism, dream job is to work in F1.

Lando Norris: That’s mint! I think you’ll do good

Oscar Piastri: you’ve got a very warming personality that I’m sure all the drivers will like. If you ever need to practise, we’re here.

Lando Norris: If you twist my words I’ll know you did it

Oscar Piastri: Lando!

Y/N L/N: Lando!! 😭 I promise I won’t, this season especially really helped push me into this because I hate the way the media portrays two/three of the nicest people ever.

Lando Norris: i know we’re the two…but who’s three

Oscar Piastri: guess 🦁

Lando Norris: NOOOOOOOOO

Lando Norris: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEE

Oscar Piastri:  😂😂😂

Y/N L/N: IM SORRY!!! I CAN’T HELP IT!!

Y/N L/N: Oscar!! Why would you throw me under like that!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user is no longer available*

Lando Norris: invite has been taken back.

Y/N L/N: nooo!!! I’m sorry!!! OSCAR!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user apologises for the chaos he has now unpacked*

Baku 2024

Within the three weeks that passed between Zandvoort and Baku, Oscar and Lando never stopped texting you. The three of you figured out you had a lot in common and clicked like magnets. Over that time, you had plenty of new followers and decided to do a Q&A on your tiktok.

“How am I able to go to so many GP’s? Are you a millionaire?” You laughed after reading the question. “I’m not a millionaire by any means. I saved up for about a little over a year, didn’t go out with friends unless it was a birthday, didn’t buy unnecessary stuff, just was really good with not spending so I could treat myself this year. I’m in my last months of uni, which I got a full scholarship for, so not having to worry about school costs is also a great help.”

“Have you spoken to Lando and Oscar since your time in the garage? They follow you now too.” You thought quickly about it, “I haven’t no,” oops. “They were just being polite and doing their jobs when they saw me in the garage. As for the following thing, I can’t tell you why they decided to do that, but I'm not complaining.” You chuckled.

“What are you studying in Uni?”

“I’m in my final months of my sports journalism major. That's why I’m a big fan of F1, but also F1 got me into journalism, it's a circle of interest.” You mimicked drawing a circle that never ends.

In those three weeks you had also moved your group chat out of Instagram.

Osco: Is it terrible to say I miss having you in the garage?

Landito: wow Osc, straight to the point

Osco: leave me alone

Y/N: if it's anything I miss being in the garage, but no it’s terrible

Landito: what he means to say is…. we miss seeing you in person

Osco: facetime isn’t enough

Osco: come to Baku?

Landito: we took back her invite remember?

Osco: you took back your invite…

Y/N: i’ll be there already

Landito: WAIT REALLY???

Osco: is this a prank?

Y/N: yes really

Y/N: and no not a prank

Osco: answer please

Your phone started ringing just as you read it. You were in no position to be facetiming two people you now had a crush on… yeah, that also happened over the three weeks. You tried to tell yourself they were just being nice and you were caught up, but the way they acted sometimes led you to believe otherwise.

“Why am I looking at the ceiling?” Lando pointed out. “Because I am in no way showing you what I look like right now.” You laughed at them. “Yes you are.” Oscar commented. “We facetimed you for a reason.”

“Face please.” Lando asked sweetly, and you rolled your eyes. There you were in your McLaren x Reiss jacket, curls thrown up into a mix of a bun and ponytail, and glasses over your eyes. “You wear glasses?!” Lando said peeking over Oscar’s shoulder. They were always together, you started to realise.

“Yes, Lando. I wear glasses.” You shook your head with a small smile. “Well, you look beautiful as always. What’s this about you coming to Baku and not telling us?” Oscar moved on swiftly. “It was supposed to be a surprise! I was-”

“Nope, if it’s a surprise we shall wait.” Oscar cut her off. “I don’t want to wait though.” Lando groaned from behind him. “It’s in 2 days, Lando.” Oscar said, looking at the head that was now on his shoulder. “2 days too long.” He mumbled. “I promise it’ll be worth it!”

And worth it it was. After your track walk, there you were, the media pen, questions about the upcoming weekend ready, with an F1 TV microphone in your hand. F1 had reached out to you after your Q&A video asking about your sports journalism career. One thing led to another and here you were.

“Hey Max, first things first, how are you feeling this weekend?” Max smiled. “I mean, I’m feeling fine, I definitely need to get in the car to see how we do on track. Not very well if you’re here though.” 

“You know who I am?” You asked in shock. “All other drivers hope you don’t make it to the races with the track record you have, but someone told me I was one of your favourites.” Of course they did. “Well they wouldn’t be lying.” You chuckled shyly. 

Max leaned on the gate as you got your questions ready. "This year has seen a shift in the competitive order with McLaren and Ferrari stepping up. You’ve still proven to be one of the best drivers this season and currently lead the Drivers' Championship, with Red Bull fighting to stay at the top in the Constructors’. With three titles already under your belt, how do you maintain focus when the dominance you’ve grown used to in both championships isn’t guaranteed anymore—especially heading into a high-risk, high-reward circuit like Baku, where unpredictability often plays a major role?"

Max seemed a little shocked with the question. “I mean…” You nodded along as he answered and when he finished and the camera was off he smiled. “Those were very good questions. I look forward to seeing you the rest of the weekend.” You smiled at him. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

You got similar style compliments from other drivers and when the papaya boys walked in and spotted you they both smiled but had to work their way down the pen. Oscar was the first to get to your station. A quick glance to his eyes showed the professionalism he was using to hide the sheer excitement at seeing you again. “Hey Oscar, you’re going into this weekend with a double podium from Monza, how are you preparing for this weekend to get the same results if not better?”

Oscar chuckled. “Well if you’re here then a McLaren win seems to be in the cards.” You shook your head at him as he smirked. “But…”

“Thank you Oscar, good luck this weekend.” Before he left he reached over the barrier to give you a quick hug. “Nice to see you again.” He said before walking off. Lando quickly took his position and gave you his eye-closing smile. “Hey you.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Hey Lando, after the double podium in Monza, it’s clear that McLaren has made significant strides this season. With the Constructors' Championship in reach with just 11 points to Red Bull, how do you approach a circuit like Baku, where opportunities and risks are amplified? Do you feel this weekend could be pivotal in swinging the fight for the Constructors’ in McLaren’s favor against Ferrari as well?"

Lando tilted his head. “You’re one of the only people who’s brought Ferrari into the Constructors fight.” He pointed out and you shrugged lightly. “You’ve said before that Red Bull isn’t your competition, Ferrari is.”

Lando’s interview came and went just as quickly as Oscars and he too ended the interview with a hug. Charles and Carlos were just after and both of them mentioned knowing who you were and to take a stop at their garage.

The weekend went really well. Any free time you had was bouncing between garages and meeting new people. And like clock work, McLaren won the race, in Oscar’s favour. You were doing post race interviews and the wide smile on Oscar’s face when he saw you made your insides warm. “Please come to every race.” He joked and you laughed lightly. “Congratulations on your win today Oscar, after some very good fights with Charles…”

Because you had to go through every driver, and then got invited to talk about your experience on F1 TV-

“We are bringing on the voice you’ve heard all weekend, Y/N L/N.” Laura introduced as you walked into the middle of the group. “How are you?” She asked. “I’m doing really amazing. It’s been such a busy weekend for me, all thanks to you guys for inviting me and giving me some on the field action.”

Will Buxton spoke next. “You’ve become a big name here, everytime you come to a race, a McLaren driver wins. How is that even possible?”

You laughed alongside the rest of the panel. “I just put 50 kilos of extra weight in everyones car before the race this time. I think I’ll run the engine out next time though. Make everyone have grid-penalties.” You joked and they all laughed again. “It’s been so nice having you with us this weekend! We hope that you can join us again sometime soon!”

-you were able to stay much longer into the evening. Making your way to the McLaren garage you saw that they were prepping for a team photo and you quickly got your camera out to snap the moment for yourself. “No, you get in here too!” Zak yelled seeing you and the team cheered in agreement. You shook your hands not wanting to spoil it but then you were getting picked up from behind by a shoeless Lando and plopped right to Oscar.

Oscar placed an arm around you with a wide smile. “This is too much.” You told him. “Nope, it’s not.” He smiled again. You shook your head but smiled and cheered for the picture as well, and then the champagne. The team member next to you handed you their bottle with a wink at Oscar. Right as the photo ended you shook the bottle and made sure to douse Oscar as he tried to run away. Lando also joined you and the three of you were getting drenched in everyone else's champagne.

“There are two of you!” Oscar joked. “Yeah you might be right about that.” Lando laughed, clearing champagne from his eyes. “That was fun!” you laughed clinking Oscars champagne bottle. “You’ve got about 5 minutes before you start to smell.” He laughed and then your face fell. “I don’t have a change of clothes!” Lando laughed as you freaked out and Oscar just hugged you. “I’m sure we can find you something to wear.”

They did, you were wearing a team kit from their spare room in the hub. It was enough to get you to your hotel room. “Want to ride with us to the hotel?” Lando asked coming to walk with you as you reached the doors to walk out. “Yeah that sounds good.” He took your hand just as you were going to exit. “We have to wait for Oscar.” He said and you nodded and without letting go of your hand he dragged you back towards the main area.

“Did you enjoy your weekend?” He asked as you two leaned against a wall. “It was an amazing weekend.” You smiled giddily, closing your eyes. “I hope this doesn’t change that.” You opened your eyes to see Lando coming closer to you, eyes looking down at your lips. You nodded lightly and he closed the gap between your lips. His teeth nipped yours, with a sense of impatience. “Just couldn’t wait could you.” You broke away with his head resting against yours. Oscar. Why did you feel so guilty? “Oscar I-” He just shook his head with a laugh coming to your otherside. “I won, does that mean I get a kiss?” 

You looked at Lando who still had that dazed smile, then back to Oscar. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He said and Lando shook his head. “We’re dating, now can I kiss you please?” He said quickly before taking your lips in his. His kiss was softer but still as impatient. “We’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He sighed when he pulled away. 

“Really?” You asked softly, hand coming to press against your tingling lips. “Yes, since we started texting you. Oscar and I just couldn’t get you out of our heads.” Lando said with a small smile. 

“I thought I was being delusional.” You chuckled softly. “Not at all.” Oscar's hand went to your hip softly squeezing. “Come to Singapore with us, please.” You looked at Lando who took your hand and held it in his own. “Please.” You nodded almost in a trance.

[danielhowell]

Dan Goes to Church

Sup

In case you missed it, I will be hosting a one-night-only little live show at a Church in London tomorrow (9th May)

See Dan at the Union Chapel →

Tickets are only £19 and every single person will get a free SIGNED copy of my brand new Paperback book!

There’s only a few seats left, so hurry over if you want to see me in real life, have some laughs, watch me drink a wine and say something I’ll probably regret BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY there are going to be some exclusive merch designs available only at the event! 

And after a lot of inquisitive requests I am happy to preview them here:

Union Chapel Poster

Inspired by the iconic stained glass window that we will be sat under, this undeservedly beautiful poster image fuses the beautiful illustrations from the book with the venue architecture to commemorate the evening that hopefully Dan didn’t ironically burst into flame performing in a church.

Be Your Own Light Shirt

Taking inspiration from the hopeful gold glow of the new cover, this design features a sun ray quote, "You Can Be your Own Light", on the front and stained glass design on the back in a warm off-white.

I hope to meet some of you there and together we can repent for our sins, or probably commit a few new ones and run before they send people after us. It’s a date!!

— Dan

ps. stay tuned for an update on book orders. If you haven't grabbed a copy yet, we only have a limited number of signed copies still left!

[goldpilot22]

My dad is very nearsighted and is legally blind without his glasses but can see just fine with them - he is the type of person who has to use touch to feel around for his glasses if he loses them. (He also has something going on where his pupils are always slightly too dilated? Which means he has to wear sunglasses while driving in the day, and dislikes driving at night because of the glare from lights, but really enjoys astronomy since he can see the stars very well.) Meanwhile I'm slightly nearsighted, worse in one eye than the other, but it's mild enough that I spent my entire time at college without wearing glasses and only started wearing them again last year when I realized the lack of depth perception was affecting my art. (I'd thought my good eye was slightly farsighted, but it was actually slightly nearsighted, and that mixup meant that my glasses gave me headaches so I didn't like wearing them.)

My mom is hard of hearing because her birth father would hit her on the ears when she was a kid (Grandma divorced that man for her kids' safety, and he's not in the picture no more.) and she sometimes has to ask people to repeat things. I'm technically not HoH afaik, but I have tinnitus and auditory hypersensitivity (the sound of a door shutting just normally is enough to hurt a little, for example) so I wear headphones constantly to muffle all sounds and make things bearable. Because of the headphones and my other auditory processing struggles, it's functionally like I'm hard of hearing, as I often have to ask people to repeat things they said, and especially in loud situations I can't just remove the headphones to hear better.

My grandpa (who I live with and help care for) is hard of hearing and wears hearing aids. Sometimes we have a "conflicting access needs" moment when his hearing aids feedback and produce sounds that are painful to me even through my headphones, but the feedbacking bothers him too so he finds a way to get it to stop pretty soon. We frequently have to ask each other to repeat things or get closer and then repeat things, which can be a bit annoying but we're used to it.

also sometimes we have funny moments such as when I asked "You don't have your hearing aids in, do you?" and he said "I can't hear you! I don't have my hearing aids in!"

For any creatives out there who may need it, this is a fairly important thing to note. Bc shockingly I still see genuine mainstream media still be really sloppy about this topic:

In people who are classified as blind or deaf, there's actually very few cases where it's this, all engulfing complete sensory deprivation. What I mean by this is, that someone can be considered blind if they for example lack peripheral vision so severely that they have to actively focus something on the very center of their field to really make out what it is. Or the other way around. Or that their vision is really blurry. Or their eyes can't focus on the same thing, or dozens of other ways people Can't See Well. Same for deafness: someone's hearing can just be so poor that they can't function the same way that non HOH people can. It can mean that one ear is deaf and the other is normal, it can be just hearing if something is really loud or only being able to hear when there's no background noise. The list goes on.

The way blindness and deafness manifests is extremely diverse but I only ever see media do the "Literally complete darkness" for blind characters and "Wouldn't hear a fucking car coming at them until they see the headlights" type of shit for deaf characters. It's so boring and idiotic. Like duh sensory disabled people can rely on other senses or methods to navigate the world but it also doesn't automatically mean blind people have amazing hearing or whatever else played out archetypes writers like to give disabled characters to make them ~more capable~. Like please don't have the range be either "Pathetically helpless" or "Superhero with one sense missing but that makes them More Special".

Deaf people feel soundwaves and vibrations just like hearing people do, blind people can detect the difference between light and dark, and also feel vibrations and air passage to know when someone or something is there. Now I'm not blind nor HOH but even I know that in most cases it's not that black and white. Blind and deaf characters can be perceptive without being supernaturally talented in other ways ffs. Just realise that it's A Spectrum.

[spicy-apple-pie]

I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE COMIC >:))))))

I did warn you…

Okay so idk if a lot of people know this, but Damian was originally given up for adoption right after he was born before his story was reconned.

So in this comic, Damian is 9 years old and in the foster system in Gotham, unknowing who his parents are. He’s never stays long in a home because he’s very aggressive. He’s smart though, so he orders a DNA testing kit to hopefully find a relative to take him. Imagine his shock when he finds out his father is Bruce Wayne.

So this 9 year old walks into WE by himself, toddles up to the secretary, and asks to see Bruce Wayne. The secretary is like “haha okay, let me help you find your parents.” And Damian is like “you can. My dad is Bruce Wayne.”

And then Tim shows up!! And he’s like, “who’s your dad?”

And Damian is suddenly really nervous and shyly passes Tim the DNA test results. Tim looks them over, and Damian thinks he’s going to get turned away. But then Tim smiles at him and asks him if he has time for a drink.

Damian basically explains his life story over a cup of hot chocolate to Tim. Tim listens and tells him that he’ll make sure Bruce sees it and gives him his number if he has any questions (Damian doesn’t have a phone). Damian gets up to throw out his cup but Tim is like “oh I can throw that out for you. Talk to you soon!”

Cut to the BatCave where Bruce is staring at the DNA test results. Showing him and Talia as the parents. Tim stands behind him. “I doubled and tripled checked.” He says. “Not to mention he’s the spitting image of you.” He mumbles under his breath, knowing that Bruce isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Alfred places some Tylenol beside Bruce using his butler powers to sense his on coming headache.

“And you said he walked into the lobby by self?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, he said he took the bus.”

“Oh dear,” Alfred comments, “that is certainly not safe for a boy his age in Gotham. I wonder if his social worker knows about that…”

So the next morning, Damian finds that he’s out of custody from his foster parents. And he’s like “but I didn’t do anything this time!” And his social workers like “no, they’re getting charged with child endangerment. We already have a place lined up for you.”

Lo and behold, his new foster home is Wayne Manor. And he meets Bruce for the first time and he’s really nervous. And Bruce has to turn away because he almost starts crying. And Damian asks Alfred if he did something wrong and Alfred’s like “no, he’s just very happy to see you.”

And that’s basically it. But I also have this idea of how he discovers his Dad is Batman.

He comes downstairs in the early morning for a snack before going back to sleep to find Red Hood raiding their fridge. He runs to Bruce and he’s freaking because fucking RED HOOD broke into their house.

And Bruce groans and is mildly annoyed about and Damian is like “???? Does this happen often????” Bruce brings him downstairs and Red Hood is still there, but making a grilled cheese with his helmet off.

“Jay, how many times do we need to tell you know masks in the house?”

“I dunno. How many fucking children are you going to adopt?” He gestures to Damian hiding behind Bruce.

“He doesn’t know yet, Jay. I was going to wait until he was more comfortable.”

Jason is a little sheepish because he did give the kid a bit of a fright, so he turns around to apologize and introduce himself. And instantly is like “holy shit, that’s a bio kid.”

“Language, Jay…”

“Don’t language me, where the fuck did he come from???”

“What is happening??!!” Damian finally yells.

And then Bruce shows him the BatCave.

I did warn you I’d talk your ear off. I came up with this circa. 2018 - 2019 but I feel like I finally have the skill to draw it. And I honestly fell in love with it again, so I might lol.

Edit: I did it

[aydracz]

The GO bench in St James Park has been replaced with a different one

Very sorry to report that the sanded down bench they returned at the original spot in St James Park is actually NOT the OG fandom one.

There are some very prominent features the OG bench had. Most importantly, the shape of the back of the bench, the armrest shape, and the height of the bench itself:

OG bench (pic taken last year):

The new bench, unfortunately, has a different back shape (the tops of the left and right wooden planks at the back):

I did some ineffable detective work in St James Park this weekend of 25th January (with the help of @0xlilith and @fuckyeahgoodomens and @fuzzywhispersbear) and examined all the benches in the near vicinity and subsequently all the benches in the park, in case they just moved it to a different spot. They did not.

I now have a special photo folder in my phone featuring some of the possible candidate benches in St James Park, because that's what you do if you are a GO fan on a trip to London.

All the potential candidate benches that fit the shape criteria didn't meet the "recently cleaned" criterion or the "at least a bit visible carving scars in the right places" criterion.

(A very useful graphics made by @fuckyeahgoodomens)

It is, of course, possible that I am wrong and the bench is there somewhere and has been cleaned so well that not even the carving scars are visible. I just recorded all the Clues as I collected them and this is the logical conclusion:

I think it is realistic to consider that the OG bench was damaged beyond salvation and as such, was removed permanently. I feel like maybe some of the carvings were too deep and beyond repair. I might be wrong, they just might be rotating the benches and our bench is just sitting somewhere in storage, waiting for being cleaned and returned. (It is probably not in different park because all benches have a SJP at the back and I think they make sure to not mix them up).

I, personally, am actually fine with fans writing on the bench. It is within my personal limits of what is OK. But some of the fandom love was maybe too vigorous. And as a whole, I think that this shows us that we might try to treat the new bench with a bit more respect. By refraining from carving in it with a knife. By using plain pencils to write our little notes so that they don't destroy the bench, are easily cleaned and are not visible to regular visitors of the park, only for people who know what they are looking for. Use it as a scavenger hunt place (my personal favourite) to leave little trinkets and gifts for other fans (but hide them well so that they don't visually disturb regular visitors).

I am not openly promoting vandalism here. I am just being realistic and I seriously have nothing but love for the people who left their permanent mark on the bench. (And I would HATE for this post to be used for hating on these fans. Pls don't.) I believe we can find a sweet spot of showing our love for the bois and not damaging the bench beyond salvation.

And I think the management of St James Park is showing us that they are just doing their job and they don't hate us (hopefully).

Why? Because the heart padlock of Aziraphale and Crowley is still there. Someone even added another padlock and a little fly! And these things didn't disappear. I think this hopefully demonstrates that fandom activities in moderation are allowed.

The bench is a symbol of fandom love and as such, I don't think it can be lost. It is what we make it. There is a new lovely bench at the spot and it attracts GO fans just like the previous one did. And while I know many people (including me) will grieve the piece of fandom history that might have been lost, I think that this is an opportunity for a fresh start.

We'll be OK. This place still feels loved.

[bradshawsbaby]

Like Peas in a Pod

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: What happens when two wallflowers find each other?

Word Count: 5.7k

Author’s Note: I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!

Warnings: Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.

If you’d had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.

“Do we have to go out tonight?” you’d groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. “It’s been such a long week. Can’t we just do a wine night and put on some movies?”

“We did that last week!” Shawna argued. “C’mon, I just got my nails done. Don’t let it be for nothing,” she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.

“Besides,” Kelsey chimed in, “like you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.”

“Hopefully we’ll find other people to treat us,” Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.

“Besides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently it’s where all the hotties from North Island go after work,” Shawna giggled.

Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.

“It’s settled! We’re going to The Hard Deck, ladies,” Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. “Meet at my place at 8 and we’ll Uber over.”

As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadn’t been wrong. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, you’d been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.

Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the bar’s patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.

“Cheers, ladies!” Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. “And a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!” she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.

The rest of you held up your drinks—Renee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noon—and clinked them together with a celebratory “Cheers!”

“Tonight’s the night that you’re finally going to find yourself a man,” Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.

“Yes, it is!” Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.

“Take your pick, babe,” Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. “I’ve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!”

You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friends’ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.

The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldn’t have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.

Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possess—the ability to turn men’s heads no matter where they were.

Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.

At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.

Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.

And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to say—how had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?

You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways they’d helped you come out of your shell since college. But you’d be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasn’t challenging at times.

They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men you’d ever seen. You—didn’t know how to do any of that.

You’d tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girls’ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with  random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.

The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, “So, is your friend single?” while pointing at Kelsey.

You hadn’t told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew they’d just feel bad and you didn’t want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you’d given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldn’t understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.

“Don’t give us that look,” Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. “You look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!”

“You do,” Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. “I love that top.”

“See? I told you it was a solid purchase,” Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.

Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldn’t help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? You’d be crazy not to try. You’d spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. You’d coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadn’t seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.

“Let’s just enjoy the night and focus on us,” you said, trying to deflect your friends’ intense attention. “If anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.”

The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didn’t push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.

As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.

At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.

You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartenders—if you’d heard correctly earlier, she might have been the owner—approached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.

“Ladies, these are for you,” she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.

“Oh,” Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “I think there might have been a mistake. We didn’t order another round, did we?” she asked, looking at the rest of you.

“Not that we won’t take them,” Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.

The woman smiled at the four of you. “No mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,” she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.

The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Men’s Health magazine.

“Oh, we’ll definitely take them!” Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.

“Of course,” she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, “I’ll vouch for the fact that they’re good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. “We owe you one!”

Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.

“Should we go thank them for the drinks?” Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.

“Not yet,” Renee decided, smirking mischievously. “We’ll let them sweat it out a little bit first.”

“Renee!” Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.

“What? You know it’ll work. They’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands,” Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.

“They look cute,” you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.

Clearly you shouldn’t have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.

“Which one do you think is the cutest?”

“Do you see one you like?”

“Claim one now before we get over there!”

Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.

“I—I—I don’t know!” you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. “I just meant—I mean, they look cute for you guys.”

“Um, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldn’t they be cute for you, too?” Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.

“Please, you guys, let’s just drop it. I’m probably going to start heading home soon anyway,” you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

“What? No, you can’t!” Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.

“C’mon, we’ll go over to them now,” Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. “You can’t leave yet,” she insisted.

Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.

“Well, well, well, fellas,” smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. “Looks like our little gift didn’t go unnoticed after all.”

Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplate—Seresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.

Renee, who always ended up being your group’s fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. “Well, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks aren’t half bad after all,” she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. “Even if they weren’t brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.”

Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.

“Most of us aren’t half bad. I can’t speak for Hangman here,” another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelsey’s ears pricking up at the sound.

Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelsey’s type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as well—Bradshaw.

“Hangman?” Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.

“My callsign,” the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.

“Ah, callsigns. You’re fighter pilots,” Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.

“Not just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,” came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.

“Oh, yeah?” Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And who determines that?”

“The Navy,” Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. “We’re all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.”

“Hmm, and humble, too,” Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. “So what’s your callsign then?”

“Rooster,” the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. “But I’m being awfully rude. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, holding out his large hand.

“Kelsey,” she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.

You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.

Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.

Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.

What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.

It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. You’d text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you weren’t sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.

Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friends’ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.

Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldn’t get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.

Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.

Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.

“Are you alright?” he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.

“Yes,” you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadn’t heard you. “Thank you,” you added.

“I’m guessing you were looking for this?” he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.

You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just a klutz,” you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.

He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone bumped into you.”

He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it,” you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.

He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. “Well I don’t want to hold you up,” he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.

Your head whipped back in his direction. “Oh, no! I mean, you’re not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.”

Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?

“Oh, you’re leaving?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,” he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.

He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. “I just, um…well, it’s kind of loud in here and I just…” Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.

“Would you like to maybe go outside for a minute?” he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, “I mean, of course you don’t have to. I’m sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and I’m—”

“No,” you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. “I mean, I would like that,” you clarified with a shy smile.

“Oh,” he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.

Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.

“So do you have a callsign, too, Bob?” you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. “Your friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. “My callsign is Bob. Original, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.

In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.

“I like it,” you told him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.

The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.

“Is this your first time at The Hard Deck?” he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. “I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”

You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. “It is, actually. It was my friend Shawna’s idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.”

“It is,” Bob nodded, smiling at you. “Penny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.”

“I’m guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?” you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators they’d found.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,” he joked.

You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navy’s best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.

As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, “I’m actually not a pilot. I’m a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my vision’s always been a problem. I’m proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.”

“I think that sounds really impressive,” you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. “I’m sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, we’d never make it off the ground,” you grinned.

Bob smiled in return. “I’m sure you’d get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. “So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a teacher,” you replied. “I teach history to middle schoolers.”

“Now that’s something I’m sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,” he admitted, which made both of you laugh. “And history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.”

“Really?” you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.

“Absolutely. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I said—middle schoolers terrify me,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling.

“There’s always high school,” you pointed out with a smile.

“Even worse!” he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.

“Is that a piano?” you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.

“Sounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,” Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.

“Trust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,” you assured him with a knowing look.

“My friends are very smooth with the ladies, but they’re also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,” he told you.

“It’s funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,” you said.

“Ah, well, no one’s more trustworthy than Penny,” Bob smiled.

You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.

Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.

“Why were you going to leave?”

You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didn’t make you sound completely pathetic.

“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. “Please, just forget it.”

“No, um, it’s okay,” you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. “Um, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didn’t see any point in sticking around any longer.”

Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Wasn’t there anybody for you to talk to?”

You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didn’t want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.

“Um, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,” you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.

Bob fully frowned at that. “Guys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,” he said softly, his voice serious.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.

“I’m not just saying it,” Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. “You’re sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. I’m honestly shocked you’re out here talking to me of all people.”

“Don’t say that,” you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didn’t appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.

“I know that I’m not like my friends,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. “I know I’m not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what it’s like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.

“Bob,” you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. “I think you’re a terrific guy. And the girls who can’t see that? It’s their loss.”

He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”

“I’m really glad you asked me to stay.”

He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.

The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.

It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.

The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.

“There you are!” Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. “You had us scared half to death!”

“I told you she was fine,” Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘Sorry!’ to you.

“See? Nothing to be worried about,” Kelsey added. “She’s with…” She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.

“Um, Bob! This is Bob,” you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.

“She’s with Bob!” Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.

“Floyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,” Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Renee’s waist.

“I guess they did notice we disappeared after all,” you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.

“Of course we did!” Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.

“We were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,” Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friend’s apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. “Invite your friend!”

Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. “Um, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?”

“I’d love to,” Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.

Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.

“C’mon, let’s go close our tabs. Jake’s paying for the Ubers,” Renee smirked, patting the blonde’s chest as she gazed up at him.

“Aww, thanks, Jake,” Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.

“Owe you one, man,” Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.

“Hey, wait a second—”

“That’s what you get for losing two rounds of pool,” Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.

Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldn’t help but crack up laughing.

“I think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,” you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.

“I think so,” Bob nodded, rising as well. “But I think I really met my match in you.”

Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.

[kachowden]

Gonna start calling these late night drabbles or something at this point.

You know those ASMR videos, where it’s two people, and one of them has like different fluffy brushes and oils and stuff that they rub on the person laying down? Like a massage? Visual ASMR?

I’m thinking about a yandere asmrtist who brought you in for one those videos. Maybe you won a giveaway or something, but realistically I think you were originally a fan. So he didn’t know you at all.

But then of course, you showed up at his studio. Stunning. Gorgeous. Irresistible. The whole package really. And he felt something deep in his stomach. Maybe butterflies. Maybe indigestion. Regardless, despite having done this before, he’s nervous. Off the bat it’s awkward.

But he’s a professional. So he powers through. A few moments of idle chat, and various prep work goes by, before you’re lying on the cot, surrounded by herbal candles and oils that already send you into a deep state of relaxation.

He starts the video as he always does, jumping right into it. Brushing your hair back, smoothing down the skin on your shoulders. Tracing your features with a soft fluffy stick thingy. Goes the whole nine yards. And the entire time he is sweating buckets from how aroused he is.

At some point through the session he starts to wonder if his heavy breathing is as visible as he thinks it is. If you can feel the sweat dripping down his arms and forehead. And his composure starts to wane. The way your breathing slows, the way your muscles relax. It’s driving him a little crazy. You’re so…comfortable. Because of him. He made you comfortable.

That means something doesn’t it? I mean you were a fan of his anyway. So obviously you liked him. He liked you too of course. It made him have a new thankfulness for his career. How would he have met you otherwise? His soulmate. No. He wanted to believe no matter what you two would have found each other. This feeling in his chest was so deep and passionate. Surely you guys were past lovers too right? You would’ve found each other.

And since you’ve loved each other before…it should be easy to love again? It’d be natural. Perfect. So when he hands start to squeeze a little more sensually, and his eyes began to lower. He doesn’t feel particularly guilty anymore. Your skin is familiar to his deluded mind. The way his fingers began to dig and mold into your soft skin and flesh, sliding up and down, the fabric of your shirt getting pushed lower…and lower..it’s all familiar. Yes he’s sure of it. You’ve both done this before. Your bodies have collapsed together dozens of times. That’s the only explanation, so there’s no room for guilt.

riiiiiiinnnnngg

And he jumps back, ripped away from his hazey day dream: your eyes fluttering open with a slightly exaggerated yawn that hopefully mutes the sound of his racing heart.

“Wow…” you laugh, and he would’ve taken a moment to appreciate it more if not for his own existing panic. “I totally fell asleep…sorry if that ruined the take.”

He pauses, swallowing thickly as his gaze quickly switches to the green light that beeps atop the camera. Right. He had been recording. He’d have to edit that later.

“No..no it was perfect. I’m sure it’ll make the viewers feel the same ease you were feeling…” his voice is as silky and gentle as always, oozing with the honey that enraptured his audience.

You smiled and hummed with a nod, groggily lifting yourself from the cot you had laid on, and grabbing your things form the chair you had set them on, you lift your hand in a wave. “Well, this was really nice! I totally needed it, and it was super cool meeting you in person! Thanks again-“

“Wait!” He jolted, a blush burning his cheeks at his own over eager behavior. “You did a really good job today, so..I was hoping we could keep in contact if the video does well..”

“Oh..sure thing!”

God you were a total blessing.

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

A Big TB Announcement

Greetings from Washington D.C., where I spent the morning meeting with senators before joining a panel that included TB survivor Shaka Brown, Dr. Phil LoBue of the CDC, and Dr. Atul Gawande of USAID. Dr. Gawande announced a major new project to bring truly comprehensive tuberculosis care to regions in Ethiopia and the Philippines. Over the next four years, this project can bring over $80,000,000 in new money to fight TB in these two high-burden countries.

Our family is committing an additional $1,000,000 a year to help fund the project in the Philippines, which has the fourth highest burden of tuberculosis globally.

Here’s how it breaks down: The Department of Health in the Philippines has made TB reduction a major priority and has provided $11,000,0000 per year in matching funds to go alongside $10,000,000 contributed by USAID and an additional $1,000,000 donated by us. This $22,000,000 per year will fund everything from X-Ray machines, medications, and GeneXpert tests to training and employing a huge surge of community health workers, nurses, and doctors who are calling themselves TB Warriors. In an area that includes nearly 3,000,000 people, these TB Warriors will screen for TB, identify cases, provide curative treatment, and offer preventative therapy to close contacts of the ill. We know this Search-Treat-Prevent model is the key to ending tuberculosis, but we hope this project will be both a beacon and a blueprint to show that It’s possible to radically reduce the burden of TB in communities quickly and permanently. It will also, we believe, save many, many lives.

—

I believe we can’t end TB without these kinds of public/private partnerships. After all, that’s how we ended smallpox and radically reduced the global burden of polio. It’s also how we’ve driven down death from malaria and HIV. For too long, TB hasn’t had the kind of government or private support needed to accelerate the fight against the disease, but I really hope that’s starting to change. I’m grateful to USAID for spearheading this project, and also to the Philippine Ministry of Health for showing such commitment and prioritizing TB.

—

One reason this project is even possible: Both the cost of diagnosis (through GeneXpert tests) and the cost of treatment with bedaquiline are far lower than they were a year ago, and that is due to public pressure campaigns, many of which were organized by nerdfighteria. I’m not asking you for money (yet); Hank and I will be funding this in partnership with a few people in nerdfighteria who are making major gifts. But I am asking you to continue pressuring the corporations that profit from the world’s poorest people to lower their prices. I’ve seen some of the budgets, and it’s absolutely jaw-dropping how many more tests and pills are available because of what you’ve done as a community.

—

I don’t yet have the details on which region of the Philippines we’ll be working in, but it will be an area that includes millions of people–perhaps as many as 3 million. And it will include urban, suburban, and rural areas to see the different responses needed to provide comprehensive care in different communities. This will not (to start!) be a nationwide campaign, because even though $80,000,000 is a lot of money, it’s not enough to fund comprehensive care in a nation as large as the Philippines. But we hope that it will serve as a model–to the nation, to the region, and to the world–of what’s possible. 

—

I’m really excited (and grateful) that our community gets to have a front-row seat to see the challenges and hopefully the successes of implementing comprehensive care. Just in the planning, this project has involved so many contributors–NGOs in the Philippines, global organizations like the Partners in Health community, USAID, the national Ministry of Health in the Philippines, and regional health authorities as well. There are a lot of partners here, but they’ve been working together extremely well over the last few months to plan for this project, which will start more or less immediately thanks to their incredibly hard work.

[janeyseymour]

Damsel in Distress

summary: every once in a while you need rescuing. melissa is usually there.

WC: ~2.4k

It’s a well known fact that Melissa Schemmenti is not the warmest and fuzziest soul that walks the Abbott halls- by both students and teachers alike. Of course, there were always people that she felt comfortable letting her guard down around, and each and every student would venture to say that while the redhead was quite the opposite of her counterpart, Janine Teagues, Melissa Schemmenti was fiercely loving and protective when push came to shove.

So when you start your career as a first grade teacher opposite Gregory Eddie, you’re warned right away of the rough and tough teacher.

“Melissa… she’s my girlfriend’s grade level partner,” Gregory informs you during the staff meeting that morning. “And she’s going to try to push you around. Don’t let her tough Philly streets kind of personality turn you off from her- she’s got a good heart.”

Your gaze follows his finger, where he’s pointing to his friends as they walk in. And because he’s in with them, they come and take a seat with you.

“Who’s the newbie?” Melissa immediately questions as she rolls her eyes. Oh, wow- her eyes sparkle despite the fact that she looks less than enthused to be here. “And how long is she going to be here before she runs outta here like everyone else?”

“Melissa,” Barbara, the kindergarten teacher Gregory had told you about, scolds as she gently smacks the redhead’s perfectly manicured nails. “Be nice. We need all the help we can get around here.”

“Y/N,” you smile charmingly. “And hopefully a long time.”

“What makes you say that?” the second grade teacher challenges as she sits across from you.

You shrug. “I grew up around here. I know how it goes.”

“You? You grew up around here?” Melissa challenges as she gets a look at your appearance. You’re dressed quite nicely. “How’d you make it out and do this well for yourself and then fall back to teaching?”

“I’ve actually been teaching for a few years,” you hum out. “Still live in South.”

“You from South?” You just nod before turning your attention to the meeting that seems to be beginning.

When you told the redhead that you were planning on staying at Abbott for a long time, you meant it. Working in a district and a school like this is where you’ve always done your best work. You’ve been around. Working in the suburbs of Philadelphia is an entirely different job. You’ve worked with rich kids, who you honestly had a hard time connecting with. You’ve worked with middle class kids who were somewhat grateful for the work that you did, but there was still an aura of entitlement that you just did not appreciate in the slightest. You’ve worked in districts similar to the greater Philadelphia area. But when push comes to shove, your heart belongs to the city of brotherly love, and you pounced at the opportunity to come back to the city.

In the time that you’ve been at Abbott, you’ve been able to do wonders for your students. Yes, Jacob and Janine bring wonderful new ideas to the somewhat stuck in the past school, but there’s something about you that just… makes it all work. The other difference between you and the other two younger teachers? You’re a bit more… realistic- jaded. You, unlike the other younger teachers- your grade level partner included, understand that some things simply don’t go according to plan. And when plans don’t pan out the way you quite hope or expect them to, you simply adapt with grace and elegance that doesn’t get past Barbara or Melissa. Even Ava, the principal who is known for her lack of attention, picks up on the fact that there’s something special about your teaching. 

And when Melissa Schemmenti realizes that you genuinely were planning on sticking around for a while and saw your work, she was on your side wholeheartedly.

While you’ve done amazing things for your students and been praised up and down by the district, there are still a few teachers who have somewhat of a gripe with you, claiming that you’re changing too much all at once for them to keep up with you. They state that you’re bringing in new methods that simply won’t work for their students- because why would you fix what isn’t broken? 

And that’s exactly what you’re speaking about during your share out time at the staff meeting today. You have quite a few visual learners in your class, as well as students who learn through experience.

“So, as Howard Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences goes,” you say from your spot. “Everybody has different strengths in how they they learn.”

Gregory smiles. He had taught Janine physics in that way- that everyone plays to a different strength when it comes to learning and picking up new skills. 

“And I have quite a few visual learners, so as opposed to just lecturing, I’ve found that connecting it to real world situations that my first graders will understand and drawing it on the board will help. I’ve also come to realize that many of my students grasp ideas through the art of doing. So, for example, when we were learning about the phases of the moon, I found that a lot of my kiddos understood the cycle more clearly when we used an oreo to model it. In having a visual, auditory, and kinesthetic-”

“Now why are you trying to make us work harder?” one of the third grade teachers pipes up and interrupts you. “What I’ve been doing for a decade seems to still be working out for the most part.”

“Well,” you sigh as you bite your lip and glance to your group of friends. “The good thing about all of this is that most of us incorporate these different approaches without realizing it.”

“So then what’s the point of this share out, newbie?”

You go to respond when you feel a hand on your shoulder, and it isn’t Gregory’s or Jacob’s like you would expect. It’s not even Barbara. No, it’s Melissa.

“Why don’t you let her talk, Delores?” the gruff voice practically barks. “Just because we can sometimes inadvertently use these tactics doesn’t mean it’s not something we should draw attention to and try to do more consciously.”

“All I’m sayin is-”

“I don’t care what you’re saying,” Melissa growls. “Her lessons are a hell of a lot more effective than your boring ass lecturing, and maybe some of us would like to take a note or two about how we can improve our teaching.”

“Why are we trying to change the way we-”

“Did you ever realize that teaching is an ever-changing profession?” the redhead spits out. “That how we were taught doesn’t work anymore because there are always new practices and approaches coming out? Or did the nuns beat the sense out of you when you misbehaved in school?”

“Melissa,” you whisper and nudge her gently.

Green eyes turn to you. “Keep talkin’.”

Nobody dares to cross you again when it comes to your share outs during staff meetings again.

It’s later at lunch that you approach the topic of what happened in the library earlier today.

“Thank you for standing up for me,” you smile at Melissa while your lunch is in the microwave. “I really appreciate it.”

“It was nothin’,” the second grade teacher tells you with a wave of the hand. “I’ve been wanting that ol’ bat to retire for ages now, and I think she might now that she’s realizing she can’t keep up with the way the education world is going.”

It’s a few weeks later when Melissa Schemmenti stands up for you again- on a matter that you really expected her to be opposed on.

This morning, you had woken up a bit late, so instead of your usual sandwich and salad for lunch, you’re stuck with a bag of chips, a handful of grape tomatoes, and a stick of string cheese.

And while you’re eating quietly, Janine is making a fuss over it.

“Melissa, get on her!” the shorter second grade teacher huffs. “She’s eating what I eat!”

The redhead glances over at your rather unconventional meal and sighs. “That’s your lunch?” You just nod, preparing yourself to be berated by Melissa. But she doesn’t. Instead, she simply shrugs and turns her attention back to her phone.

“Melissa!” Janine admonishes.

“What, pipsqueak? She usually has a decent lunch. We all have our days of going back to the basics.”

“This is ridiculous!”

You just chuckle when you see that Melissa is silently portioning her own meal and sliding you half of it. 

Once again, you’re sitting in the library for a staff meeting where Ava has asked you to share out how you teach english language arts- a subject that your students are excelling in because of your unique approach to the sometimes difficult concepts. And once again, Delores is doing everything in her power to diminish your successes.

“Would you just shut up?” Melissa intervenes. “Ava asked her to speak out, and again, some of us aren’t old dogs like you who can’t learn new tricks.”

Your jaw practically drops at those biting words, but they do get your colleague to stop interjecting with criticism. Green eyes look to you again, and you have to hide the blush that wants to creep into your cheeks.

As luck would have it, after a rough staff meeting, your students are just not cooperating with you the way that you wish they would. You sigh softly as you lead them down to the lunch room before heading towards the faculty room for your own meal. It’s a Friday, which means that they’re already bouncing off the walls with the excitement for the weekend- but it’s also a long weekend, and you happen to know that Janiyah is having her birthday party that most of your students are attending. So they’re worse than they usually are on the last day of the school week.

You drop into your chair quietly, not yet reaching for your lunch bag. Instead, your fingers find their way to your temples, and you begin to rub them softly, hoping to alleviate some of the pain and discomfort.

“Rough day?” Melissa asks you quietly.

“Rough week,” you chuckle weakly. “After this morning, and then with the long weekend, my kids are giving me a run for my money today.”

“They’re menaces in my room today too,” the redhead tells you. “Sounds like you need a drink after work.”

You can’t help but feel inclined to agree. “Sure, why not?”

“Oscars, for happy hour?”

That’s how you end up at the local dive bar that your coworkers usually head to after a long week of work. Although this time, it’s oddly just the two of you. The rest of your friends already had plans. So, you’re sitting on one bar stool while your redheaded coworker is beside you, sipping your second margaritas.

“Damn,” you breathe out heavily. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

“Me too,” Melissa sighs out. “I can only take so much of Delores and her bullshit… I don’t know how you put up with all of her shit. I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t quite think I’ve earned it yet enough to even attempt to put her in her place,” you laugh as you take another swig of your drink.

“I don’t even care anymore,” your colleague shrugs with no remorse. “Barb’s always tellin’ me I should try being nicer, but I don’t see the point; if she’s going to be rude, why can’t I?”

“Some people think that you should be nicer,” you giggle out as your gaze lingers on her lips. “Not me though. I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Maybe you should slow down the way that you’re drinking. You hadn’t meant for it to slip that you think she’s perfect.

Green eyes are rolled so hard you think they may get stuck. “You just say that because I always stick up for you.”

“And how nice is that?” You lean in and lay a gentle hand on her forearm, eyes once again flickering down to her full lips. “You’re perfect.”

“Am I?” the redhead chuckles as she finishes her second drink. She looks to you expectantly. Of course, you oblige her silent request and finish your own off despite the fact that you’ve thought about how you should slow down.

You’re able to get the bartender’s attention to order two more before turning back to Melissa. “I’d say you are. You’re- you’re funny, and smart, and sweet, and gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous?” A perfectly sculpted brow is lifted, a smirk apparent on the redhead’s face.

Your cheeks tint red. “I- I-”

“That’s quite the compliment coming from you,” the redhead says.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“Someone as beautiful as yourself telling me that I’m gorgeous? Now that’s quite the compliment.”

“Y-you think I’m pretty?” you stammer out.

“Of course I-” The bartender places down your drinks in front of you, and Melissa pauses to thank him before turning back to you. “Of course I do. Why do you think I defend you all the time?”

“Because you’re nice?”

“Because you’re gorgeous,” the redhead corrects you. “And sometimes it’s fun rescuing the damsel in distress.”

“I am not a damsel in distress!” you protest.

“So you’re tellin’ me you want me to stop rescuing you from Delores?” Melissa asks you with a frown.

“N- no,” you stutter out. “I- I like when you do that.”

“Can I rescue you from something else?” the redhead leans in closely.

“And what would that be?”

“I’ll save you from yourself,” Melissa smiles as her eyes lower to your lips. She kisses you softly. “You’ve been staring at my lips since we got here. How long was it going to take for you to kiss me?”

You bite your lip before pulling her in softly again. When you pull away, you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up out of you. “Thank you for saving me from myself… and from the others.”

“Always will,” the redhead laughs as she pulls you in again.

And Melissa makes good on her words. Once the two of you begin dating, her fierce protectiveness of you only shines more. And each time, once the two of you are in the comfort of your own home, she’ll tease you quietly.

“My damsel in distress,” she’ll chuckle softly before pulling you in.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits

[bblairxe]

HEARTBREAKER | A.A

jock ! abby anderson x cheerleader ! reader — ch . 2

⋆·˚ ༘ * synopsis : at a chaotic college party, the you search for your friend caroline, only to end up babysitting a drunk abby anderson. after getting everyone home safely, a tense moment back at the dorms reveals cracks in abby’s confident attitude, leaving you somewhat sad and hurt.

warnings : alcohol consumption, intoxication, swearing, slight angst, flirting

wc: 3k

note: so sorry it took a week for chapter 2 to come out ! i honestly lost motivation but i picked it back up so here we areee. i hope you enjoy abby and the readers bickering towards each other. hopefully reader starts to come to term with her feelings and not push them down. but who knows! anyways reblogs and feedback are always appreciated :)

the music was booming, bleeding through the walls. whoever wanted a good nights rest tonight was certainly not getting one. the air smelt like cheap booze, sweat, and weed. you were very tempted to leave the party, nothing here really interested you. the whole reason why you went was because of caroline insisted you needed to “live a little” and “get out more.”

so here you were.

you didn’t even know who’s party this was and she probably didn’t either. you barely get to ask her before she says she’s going to run off to talk to some ‘hot babes.’ by the looks of it, you can tell it’s hosted by one of the football guys. considering the beer pong set up and the overly loud chanting crowd of jocks around it.

you sigh, leaning against the wall while you scanned the room. swishing your cup filled with what they call, hangover hurricane? nevertheless, you take a large gulp from it and throw your cup to the side. your gaze scanned the room until they settled on a familiar frame. tall, muscular, broad, blonde, and that unmistakable confidence.

who else would it be besides abby anderson.

of course she was here.

you don’t know why, but something about it keeps you watching. your stomach churns as you notice she’s laughing at something a girl said. and then you see it — the look in her eyes, one she doesn’t give to anyone else. the same look she had whenever she drove you home from the diner. you’re about to look away when she shifts her position, the neon lights now catching her face perfectly. that’s when you really see her. abby’s pressed against the couch, her hands tangled in the brunettes hair as their lips meet in a way that’s disgustingly lustful.

something about it makes a feeling bubble inside of you. it’s not jealousy — definitely not. it’s disgust. yeah, it has to be that. disgust.

pushing yourself off the wall, you decide you need to be anywhere but here. you now have a new focus: finding caroline.

you push through different crowds of people. stoners, party-goers, ones who will talk your ear off if you give them the time of day. in between each crowd, you ask one of them if they’ve seen caroline or know where she could be. they all give different stories though. some leading you forward and some leading you in circles. she really was a busy girl tonight, huh?

you started to feel yourself starting to get frustrated, the hunt for caroline seemed absolutely endless. you’re constantly pushing between people and ending up with the same useless answers. one even caused you to walk into two people doing the devils tango, yikes.

“looking a little lost, muñeca?”

you stop in your tracks and turn to face the voice. there he stood, leaning against the door frame you just went through. a smug smirk stretched across his face, no other than manny alvarez.

he had the kind of charm that seemed effortless, he used it for more good than not though. for example whenever him and owen got caught with booze in their dorm, he offered the RA a special night if she kept quiet. needless to say the amounts alcohol in their room only skyrocketed from there.

“oh come on don’t tell me you’re about to leave?” he teased.

“actually i’m looking for caroline, have you seen her?”

“ah, caroline,” he said, dragging out her name. “last time i seen her she was talking with some girl. she didn’t seem too happy though.”

you rolled your eyes, already knowing who she’s talking to. you then thank him and continue on with your journey.

“you know where i stay. i’m a good fuck!” he shouts out from behind before laughing to himself.

you ignore his remark and decide you should give yourself a 10 minute rest before going back to your mission. finding the doors to the backyard, you’re greeted with yet another smell of cheap booze, weed, and now chlorine. you sit down on a muddy patio, sighing until you hear someone calling your name in a sing - songy voice.

“caroline! oh my gosh, i have been on a scavenger hunt trying to find you.” you exclaim.

she comes stumbling towards you with a drunken smile across her face. her makeup is smudged, her hair is slightly disheveled, and her heels are nowhere to be found. “heyyy girl! i was catching up with dina!” caroline slurs, plopping down next to you.

you pull down her dress as it began to ride up “oh gosh, how did that go.” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

caroline gives you a sly look, one that says it all, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “let’s just say … we definitely kissed and made up.”

you roll her eyes at her comment before laughing along. “you really are something. but, uh, what about her and ellie.”

caroline waves her hand dismissively, her expression shifting to something vaguely serious. well, as serious as she can get in her state. “oh, she gave me the whole rundown,” she says, dragging out the words. “basically, when she went back to jackson for ellie, ellie was all like, ‘i need to finish this—it’s eating me alive and blah blah.’ and dina was like, ‘no, stay, please,’ but ellie wasn’t having any of it. she just up and left.”

she shrugs dramatically, before taking another sip of her drink. “and that’s how we ended up here.”

you nod before taking into realization, “wait so, doesn’t that mean you’re just a rebound for her?”

caroline’s eyes go wide and quickly turns to face you. “shit, wait! you’re so right dude,” she takes her head into her hands before loudly groaning, “why can’t i ever win!”

you give her a sympathetic smile and take her into your arms, patting her head as she complains in your arms. “i know caro, i know. how about we get you home, yeah?”

she nods weakly in your embrace before lifting her head up and patting her eyes. you stand up first then help her stand up, nearly falling over in the process. the two of you make your way back into the party until you realize, you have no car. in fact, abby was your only ride to the party. you groan at the thought of having to ask her to take you home knowing she’s probably busy eating some girls face off.

“hey caro, we gotta find abby so we can get you home.” you say, turning to face her. “i don’t wanna trail you around with me while you’re stumbling and everything so wait here, kay” you sit caroline down on the couch and give her your airpods so she can keep herself occupied.

you give caroline one last look to make sure she’s alright before leaving the area. “alright, now time to find anderson.”

you’ve found yourself yet again pushing through crowds until you come into the kitchen. you groan internally as you spot abby in the kitchen, her braid swinging wildly as she downs the last of the rainbow shots. the crowd around her erupts into cheers as she slams the glass down and throws her arms up like she just won a championship.

you don’t know what’s more embarrassing: the fact that this is the same girl who’s supposed to drive you home or the fact that part of you still cares enough to worry about her.

“abby, what the hell are you doing?” you hiss, grabbing her arm and dragging her away from the chaos.

“what’s it look like, mama? havin’ fun,” she slurs, spinning around in a ridiculous shimmy. before she can tumble over, you grab her shoulder to steady her, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“fun? you’re supposed to be my ride home and now—“ you pause to look at her drenched, disheveled hair and the can of monster in her hand. “you poured monster on yourself?! are you serious?”

she hiccups and giggles, “needed a little shower, ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

you want nothing more than to jump off a 20 foot building and plummet to your death. instead, you’re here babysitting the ‘designated driver.’ you put your face in your hands before craning your neck to look back up at her, “keys. where are your keys, anderson?”

there’s a pause as if she sobered up for a spilt second. she blinks at you with no answer, and that’s when it hits you. she has no idea where the keys are.

pinching the bridge of your nose and attempting to contain every ounce of annoyance in your body, you take her hand and lead her to the couch where coralline is at.

“heyy, my shots,” abby pouts, with a huge frown on her face.

“you’ve had more than enough to drink tonight, and we have a bigger problem. getting a ride home.” you state clearly, your eyes switching back between the two of them.

“oh shit, it’s abby! what up anderson?” caroline exclaims.

“oh hey, do you know where my keys are? cause i don’t and big brain is gonna shit herself if she doesn’t find them.” abby snickers causing caroline to giggle along like a bunch of kids.

you throw a deadly glare while running a hand through your hair.

“abby, are you absolutely sure you do not have your keys on you?” you stare into her eyes, placing your hands on her knees.

“i dunno, you can pat me down and see if you find somethin’.”

“why the hell would— you know what, fine.”

“ooo look at you, you finally get to touch her muscles.” caroline winks and wiggles her brows. just like she did at the diner. “i remember when you were yapping all about it at the—“

you say her name and give her a look that could kill, immediately shutting her up. you look back up to abby who’s face is completely flushed and you hope it’s from the alcohol and not caroline’s mindless rambling.

you start at the cuff of abby’s tan cargo pants, not feeling much besides her defined calves. you quickly move upward before you get too distracted. your hands land on her thighs, and to make matters worse for yourself, you dig your hands into her pockets giving you a more detailed feel of her quads. your fingers brushed against her the thin layer of material, and you froze, feeling the heat radiating off her skin through the fabric. abby shifted slightly, and you glanced up — her eyes were half-lidded, watching you. smug, of course. always smug. it makes you wish she’s not enjoying this, but you know deep down she is.

luckily the moment doesn’t last long because you feel the distinct shape of a key fob in her pocket. you sigh of relief knowing you won’t have to be that close to abby again. though a part of you wishes you were.

you dangle the keys in front of their drunken faces, signaling it’s time to go. “all right, let’s get out of here before you guys make another dumb decision.”

caroline giggles, leaning heavily against you as you pull her up. “i’m full of great decisions,” she slurs.

you raise an eyebrow. “was dina a great decision?”

she’s silent for a moment, then shrugs and hums along to her music, clearly not interested in revisiting that conversation.

with caroline situated, you grab abby’s arm to help her up. she stumbles, nearly toppling into you—again. “seriously, anderson? you can bench, like, 250 pounds, but you can’t handle alcohol?” you mutter, adjusting her so she doesn’t faceplant.

abby smirks lazily. “different kind of strength, mama.”

your face heats up at the nickname but you brush it off by rolling your eyes. steering both her and caroline to the front door, leaving the overwhelming party behind. all you can think about is crawling into bed and pretending this night never happened.

“where’s your car, abby?” you ask, shivering slightly as the night breeze hits.

“uhhh… good question.” abby spins in a slow circle, her braid whipping around until her eyes land on her black toyota. “oh! there. told you i didn’t lose it.”

dragging the two of them across the yard feels like herding cats, but somehow you manage to get caroline in the backseat and abby in the passenger side. once you start the car, abby rests her head against the window, her gaze lingering on you.

“you’re so bossy, you know that?” she says, her voice soft and teasing.

“and you’re impossible,” you retort, keeping your eyes on the road. “sit there and be quiet until we get back.”

she doesn’t listen. “you care, though,” she murmurs, her words slurring slightly. “if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be this mad.”

your grip tightens on the steering wheel, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

“you look pretty tonight, though,” she continues, scanning you with a slow, drunken once-over. “your hair, makeup, everything.”

you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “oh, a compliment from abby anderson? how rare. i’m honored.”

“don’t act like you don’t love it,” she says, wiggling her finger toward you. “i can hear those little nervous giggles.”

you glance at her briefly, catching the faint smirk tugging at her lips, before refocusing on the road. the tension lingers in the air, heavy but not entirely unwelcome.

a few minutes later, you pull up to caroline’s apartment. you reach back to tap her awake. “we’re here, caro. c’mon.”

caroline perks up, her usual bubbly energy returning despite her drunken state. “thanks, babe. text me when you get home, okay?” she waves goodbye as she stumbles out of the car and onto the lot.

you glance over at abby, who’s slumped in the passenger seat, softly snoring. for a moment, you just watch her, taking in her peaceful expression. without the cocky smirk or sharp comments, she looks… softer.

you sigh and start the car again, your thoughts swirling. the night isn’t over yet, and neither, apparently, is abby’s ability to get under your skin.

you arrive back on campus and nudge abby awake. “we’re here,” you murmur, watching as her brows furrow in sleepy confusion before she finally gets up. she lets out a groan, rubbing her eyes as she steps out of the car.

the walk to the dorms is quiet, the crisp night air working to clear your thoughts. abby, true to form, still manages to throw in a few snarky comments.

once the two of you are inside, you head straight for your shower caddy, eager to wash off the sweat from the chaotic night. abby, however, collapses into one of the beanbags near the center of the room, her long legs sprawled out as she leans back and sighs deeply.

“abby,” you say, glancing over your shoulder as you start gathering your things, “you should really shower. you reek.”

she tilts her head lazily to look at you, her lips curving into a small, tired smirk. “too tired,” she mumbles, stretching her arms over her head. “i’ll deal with it in the morning.”

you lean back in the beanbag, watching her quietly for a moment. her face, usually so confident and sharp, is softer in the dim light. your eyes fall to the bracelet on her wrist, the metal plate glinting faintly.

“what’s with the bracelet?” you ask, keeping your tone casual.

abby glances down at her wrist, her thumb brushing over the leather. for a split second, her face changes—something unreadable flashes in her eyes before her usual mask snaps back into place.

“it’s nothing,” she says, her voice flat.

“come on, anderson. it’s just a bracelet,” you tease, reaching out without thinking. your fingers barely graze the leather when she pulls her arm back sharply, the movement startlingly quick.

“i said it’s nothing,” she snaps, her tone sharper than you’ve ever heard.

you blink, your hand hovering midair. “okay,” you mumble, the word feeling inadequate.

abby exhales slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. “sorry,” you mutter, but the tension in the room doesn’t ease.

you want to say more, to ask why something so small had her on edge, but the wall she’s built between you feels impenetrable. instead, you nod, standing up and grabbing your things.

“i didn’t mean to—”

“just drop it,” she cuts you off, her back still turned.

with a quiet sigh, you step out into the hallway, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing louder than you expected. as you walk toward the showers, your thoughts race, replaying the look on her face and the way her voice had hardened. you’d never seen her like that before, and the image of her stoic expression lingers in your mind long after you’ve left the room.

taglist: @lucidfairies @wishingonjellyfish

[mommyslittlebird]

Broken

Another cut segment of Her Special Girl Part 2! (Hopefully coming soon)

CW: Stepmom/stepdaughter, mention of strap on usage, sexual experimenting, shame, no explicit smut but still very much 18+

“Mama?” You asked, laid back against the headboard with Wanda’s head resting on your chest. The strap she’d just fucked you with was still nestled between your legs, resting sticky against your thigh. Neither of you had the energy to get up just yet, and you were more than happy to stay just like this until your stamina returned.

The night had been wonderful. You’d never felt more complete and satisfied in your life. Having Wanda inside you made you feel like the most important girl in the universe. She loved you. She took care of you. Everything was perfect.

Except your stomach tightened with a certain unshakable shame and embarrassment.

You hadn’t cum.

She had to have noticed, but she hadn’t mentioned it. Your mind swam with possibilities. She had to be disappointed, right? I mean she’d fucked you for over an hour, putting in so much hard work to make sure you felt good… all for nothing.

You weren’t sure why it hadn’t happened. You’d felt so wonderful the entire time. She had made you feel so good. But your orgasm simply never came.

“Yes, my little love?” She mumbled into your chest. She was practically collapsed against you from exhaustion. It had been a good long while since she’d fucked anyone like that.

“I did a good job, right? I was good?” You tried to keep your composure, but your voice came out far shakier than you were hoping. Your hand nervously played with her hair, braiding small bits of it at random.

She turned to the side, propping herself up on her elbow so she could see your face. “Of course you were, angel. You did wonderful. Mama’s so proud of you.” She wiped your hair from your face, cupping your cheek to force your avoidant eyes to meet hers.

“Even though I didn’t…”

She lifted her eyebrows, waiting for you to finish your question. She knew what you were trying to ask, of course. When you didn’t continue, she reached up and squeezed your hand. “Did you still enjoy yourself?”

“Yes! Yes I-“ You felt the need to reassure her she hadn’t done anything wrong. Whatever the problem was, it was with you. You’d felt fantastic. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t cum. Your nervous ramblings were cut off when you felt her hand gently squeeze yours again.

“Then that’s all that matters, honey,” Wanda reassured, resting her head back on your chest. “I enjoyed myself, too.”

You looked back down at her, confused. “But I know you worked really hard and I… I don’t wanna make you feel bad.”

She rubbed her hands up and down your hips in a calming motion. “I don’t feel bad, love. You were doing so good for me, telling me how much you loved me and how much you were enjoying yourself. I wasn’t doing this to make you cum, honey. I was doing this to make you feel good.”

You took a deep breath, still anxiously fiddling. You trusted her, that she wasn’t upset, but you couldn’t shake the feeling there was something wrong with you.

As if she could read your thoughts she knelt over you, straddling you on either side. You could feel the toy pressing against your stomach as she reached for your cheek again.

“You aren’t broken, detka,” she stated simply. Tears unexpectedly pricked your eyes at her words. She wiped them away with her thumb. “You don’t have to cum every time, sweetie. It’s okay.”

“But this time was special, and I really wanted to show you I was enjoying myself and… and I just don’t understand!” You cried.

“Sometimes our bodies react in ways we don’t expect,” she explained. “And each and every body is different. Some things that work for other people might not work for you. But that’s okay. I’m here to learn all about your body, and what it needs for you to feel the best it possibly can. It’s not a failure for either of us that you didn’t cum, sweetheart. It wasn’t a failure at all because we learned about a new way to make your body feel good.”

You nodded in understanding, so relieved she didn’t think you were broken or that there was something wrong with you. “So we can do it again?”

She laughed and kissed your forehead. “Of course honey. And next time we can use the vibrator if you want. I bet that will make you feel even better.”

You smiled. You were so glad you had her with you, on this journey to discovering your own pleasure. You wanted more than anything to learn what made her feel good, and it made your heart swell to think she wanted to do the same.

She collapsed against your chest again, peppering kisses across your bare skin. “And for the record,” she teased seductively, “I think I came enough for the both of us.”

[weird-is-life]

Rockstar!tasm! Peter meeting Shy!reader on one of his shows? Invites her backstage to meet the band and he's just real flirty w her? Please

Hii, lovely!🫶 thank u so much for this request. This was fun to write. If you have anymore rockstar!Peter requests send them my way!!!! Hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of alcohol, concert, flirting, mentions of big crowd, (2k)

Your best friends drag you to a concert of some upcoming band they love. Honestly, you don't know a thing about them only that they are allegedly pretty good, and that your friends are paying for your drinks tonight.

The whole place is packed with people, because it's not just one band playing, there are multiple bands playing throughout the whole night. The pretty big venue, but it still does nothing to make it more spacey. There's barely any place to move.

You thought you didn't mind so many people at one place, but as you try to get to the bar through the sea of sweaty bodies, you don't feel very happy that you're there.

You've lost your friends on the way to the bar as well, so you're on your own to get through the crowd. You hope that you'll meet your friends there.

You're almost at the bar when suddenly there's something cold and very very wet going down the front of your t-shirt. And by the smell of it, you can tell it's alcohol.

"Shit. I'm so sorry," the person panics in front of you," I didn't see you, like at all."

You slowly look up from your cold, wet t-shirt to the person speaking. It's a extremely handsome guy. Like 'your breath gets knocked out' handsome type. And no, you aren't even being dramatic.

He's dressed in all black, sleeveless t-shirt, black baggy jeans and black eyeliner. You don't think you've ever seen such abpretty and cute guy. He seems a bit familiar too, but you can't pinpoint where you've seen him before.

But you're t-shirt is still very much wet as you respond," it's-it's okay. There's just too many people, i know you didn't mean to."

You don't know what to do next. You don't have anything else to wear but this t-shirt. And your friends are still nowhere to be seen.

"Still, I'm very sorry," he apologetically looks at you, soft smile on his face. "Do you have anything else to wear?"

"I don't," you reply with a sigh.

"Shit," he curses looking around frantically. He looks like he has places to be, so you honestly don't want to keep him more than you've already had.

"It's whatever, I'll survive the few more hours, I guess. I'm sorry about your drinks tho," you give him a small, sheepish smile, and start going towards the bar again to find your friends.

You don't get far because he gently catches your hand, "as much as I think some guys would enjoy the wet t-shirt contest look, I would be an asshole to let you stay like this. Please let me get you a new t-shirt?"

Your cheeks go red at his words.

"It's really not that big deal-" you start.

"It is to me." He tells you. "Please, let me get you a t-shirt that doesn't reek of beer and vodka," he offers again with a chuckle.

You think it over for a few seconds as he looks hopefully at you, there's something else in the way he looks at you, but you can't quite name what it is.

"Okay, yeah," you say, and he smiles big at you," but where can you find a shirt here. There's nothing here."

He gives you the cheekiest smirk as he says, " don't worry about that. I'll get one for you. Just come with me."

He points to the doors you know lead to the backstage. You shake your head in disagreement, "we can't go there."

"We can, I know the people, so let's go," he starts to head thar way, but you don't budge. Overthinking it too much.

"Am I getting kidnapped?" you worry lightly. Even if you have a strong feeling, that you can trust this guy,

He laughs at your question,"no, definitely not. But if you want to wait here, it's okay, too. I'll bring it to you."

You think it over, and decide that you'd rather not stay in the middle of this pit of sweaty people. And also because you've never been backstage before, so you're curious.

"No, no, it's alright. I'll come with you."

He nods happily, "great. I'm Peter by the way."

"I'm y/n."

He starts to walk again, and this time you follow him. You have a hard time keeping up with him. With his long legs it's not easy to get through the crowd as he does.

Peter notices it, he stops, and suddenly there's his big, warm hand around yours.

Calloused fingers like guitarist's holding onto yours tightly, so he doesn't loose you. It makes the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

He tugs you after him with an ease, and in no time you're in the backstage area.

Peter doesn't drop your hand, though, and he leads you even farther to some dressing room. He walks inside it so casually, and to your horror he pulls you inside with him.

There are 3 more guys in that room, all of them similarly dressed to Peter, looking very much like some rockstars. Peter finally drops your head, "give me a second, I'll find some clean t-shirt in my bag for you."

He leaves you standing in the middle of the room with your cheeks very rosy at the attention of the three other boys.

"I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll...I'll go wait outside," you point at the door.

"You're not intruding," Peter says softly, " these are my boys..." he names all of them, and each of them gives you a warm smile and a nod.

Fuck. You suddenly realise. They must be some kind of band playing tonight.

"It's nice to meet you. Do...Are you playing on the stage tonight?" You question curiously.

"Yeah," Peter finally finds you a t-shirt, and walks back towards you. "We are the last band playing tonight," Peter hands you the clothing, and you thank him. Still very shy at the thought that you are currently standing in the middle of some band's dressing room.

"There's a bathroom right here, you can go change, yeah?" Peter suggests carefully, he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything.

He thinks you are really, really pretty, and that it must be fate that you bumped into each other tonight. Peter only knows your name, and he knows he's fucked already. Like full on crush.

You only take a few seconds to clean yourself up, and change into Peter's t-shirt. When you come out of the bathroom, the guys are all standing, readying for the stage already.

"Hey, look at you, my t-shirt looks great on you, even if it's a little big," he compliments you with an easy smile, and you, once again, blush at his flirty tone.

"Thank you," you tell him," and thank you for the t-shirt, I really appreciate. I'm gonna go now though, i don't want to bother you anymore. I'll see you around. And thanks again."

You give him a wave with the intend to dissappear quickly out of there. Your friends are definitely wondering where you are by now. And also because your legs would probably give out if you had to endure one more flirty smile from Peter.

"Hey, hey, hey, wait up," Peter runs after you," I-I was wondering, if you would want to come listen from the side of the stage?

He looks unsurely at you. He has some kind of paper in his fidgeting hands.

"I can't, I'm sorry. I'm here with two of my best friends, so I can't even if I'd love to." You look regretfully at him.

"Then they should come, too! Please, it's the least I can do for spilling my drinks all over you." Peter blurts it all out way too quickly then he means to. Not keeping his cool composure near you like at all.

"Are you sure? We wouldn't want to bother," you ask quietly. Even if you'd really, really love seeing the band from the backstage. Because you don't want to go back into the messy crowd of people.

"You definitely won't bother anybody. It would be my pleasure actually to have you there. I can at least have some pretty girl like you there to dedicate our songs to," he winks at you. Flirting without much thought about it with you.

You can't say you don't like it. You do. Way too much than you probably should. So you say, "okay, yes. I'll text them right now."

"Great," he says with a big beam," and here, take this before I leave. Dave will escort you to the side of the stage." Peter pushes the paper from his hands to yours, and points at the bodyguard.

"Wait, Peter, what's this?"

"It's an address. If you could mail me the t-shirt back, it's my favourite," Peter tells you carefully, not wanting to sound like a dick.

"Oh, of course. That won't be any problem," you immediately assure him.

He nods at you, and leans in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. Don't worry, he gives you the time to push him away, but you don't. You would never. He just couldn't say goodbye to you without ever kissing your pink cheek in his lifetime.

"I'm so glad i bumped into you," he tells you breathlessly, "I'll see you on the stage," and with that he's off. Leaving you a blushing mess as you scramble to text your friends to come to the backstage.

When they finally arrive, you follow Dave to the side of the stage as your friends stare around them in huge awe.

It's even worse when you finally get to the stage. "How the fuck did you manage to get us in here?" Your friends question.

"It's a long story, I'll tell it to you later." They just shake their heads at you, not able to believe where they are.

They eyes, and yours, go impossibly wider once the band shows up, and they start playing.

Peter immediately looks your way, grins at you and sends you a wink. You just smile bashfully at him.

Your friends eyes are instantly on you, "um excuse me, why is Peter Parker unabashedly flirting across the stage with you?" They squeal as they ask that.

Your face goes white. You didn't realise that Peter was Peter freaking Parker. Lead singer of that upcoming band your friends dragged you here to see. You almost pass out at the realisation.

You can't believe that the future rockstar is openly flirting with you across the stage, and your friends can't either.

Your friends demand to know what exactly happened, so you tell them. They go even more crazy after that.

When the concert is eventually over, you and your friends get escorted away from there by Dave, so you don't even get the chance to say goodbye to Peter or even be bold enough to ask for his number.

It's later after you spend a few days moping about your wasted chance with Peter that you finally get the strength to send him his t-shirt back.

You find the crumpled paper that Peter gave you, and only then you realise what's really written on it. Your mouth goes wide open.

Dear y/n,

I lied it's not my favourite t-shirt. You can keep it. I wanted to ask for your number, but I didn't want to pressure you into thinking that you had to give it to me just because I got you backstage (or just because I'm a handsome rockstar). So here's my number +xxxx xxx xxx, I liked you, like a lot, so please feel free to text me or you can ignore me, both is totally fine. Even if I may end up heartbroken, and write sad songs about you if you do decide to ignore me. Just kidding......maybe

With love,

Peter P.

You squeal so loudly that probably the whole neighbourhood hears you. You make a few laps around your apartment as you try to calm yourself down. You can't really believe it. You even read it a few more times just to make it real.

Once you do calm your racing heart, you call your best friends over to help you figure out what to text Peter. They very gladly agree to come.

And let's just say Peter is just as enthusiasticly waiting for the text from you as you are to write it to him.