#Home Front Monument

[rabbitcruiser]

World War II: Nazi Germany and Slovakia invaded Poland, beginning the European phase of World War II on September 1, 1939.

[elftwink]

one major difference i have found between service industry work (in my case food service but this is widely applicable to similar jobs) and other public-facing positions is that the job itself is often very similar because people is the same, it's just in service everyone approaches you already thinking they're right and you're a fucking idiot and its their god given right to disrespect you, where in other positions even if they are not nice to you they usually acknowledge that you know more than them on issues pertaining to your job. like the difference in behaviour from people who see you as serving them vs helping them is unreal. i am doing literally the exact same things. customer is always right mentality did irreparable damage to the fabric of society

[sardonicsergeant]

Shoutout to the guy at the concert i just went to who told my brother and I he loved us and we've been great, then let us get in front of him(to basically the front row) just in time for my favorite song that I had been talking about for the bands whole set

[foccaccia]

i got trapped here once

I adore that riverside iowa just decided one day that they were where kirk was born and the writers were just like fuck it why not

[prozach27]

.

[elysianightsss]

Mouth watering sundress

Summary: John gives you a ride home from work, and his phone number…

It was the car ride from hell.

John drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one on the clutch, his truck smelled just like him. Oak wood, cigars and spiced oranges. It had a musky undertone that made you shift in your seat, thighs clenching uncomfortably. The Chevy he drove somehow didn’t surprise you and the country music quietly playing from the radio didn’t surprise you either. 

His plaid button up shirt and loose blue jeans had you staring. You could see where the muscles were too big for his shirt when he changed gears it looked like it was going to rip. You wondered what it would feel like to have those muscular arms wrapped around your body.

You played with the hem of your floral sundress, tracing the little flowers while you scolded yourself for thinking such things about your gorgeous neighbour. 

“How was work?” John asked with gentle curiosity, his big hand moving the clutch to change gear.

“It was okay.” You shrugged glancing out of the window only to look back at him and see a frown on his face.

“Just okay?” His eyebrows rose as he watched little old Doris pull out in front of him in her mini with no indication whatsoever.

“Yeah. I mean my job consists of listening to people complain on the phone and trying to fix their issues. It was pretty boring, only gets good when you get the screamers.” You laugh, watching the forest trees pass by as he drives.

“Screamers?” He asks, a small laugh coming out himself, though you picked up the concern dithering there. Tricks of the trade.

“People who start shouting or screaming down the phone as soon as you answer. Mostly cause they haven’t got they wanted from the company yet.” You explain, saying it so casually.

“That doesn’t sound too fun.”

“Maybe not fun but definitely an interesting change. Gives me something to think about on the weekends too. Maybe if I should have responded differently. How can I better my answers for next time it happens.” Your brows furrow slightly realising how pathetic you just sounded.

“No friends to make your weekends interesting?”he cleared his throat hoping he wasn’t too obvious here, “or boyfriend.” He glanced quickly at you out of the corner of his eyes to catch you cracking a small smile making one grow on his face too. So infectious.

“Some friends but they work on the weekends. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” That had John shifting into the wrong gear the car making a loud scraping noise, he scrambled to quickly rectify the situation before the car stalled.

“Fiance? Husband?” He grimaced saying it, if felt like a dirty word on his tongue, leaving a bitter after taste that quickly disappeared when he spotted no ring on your finger.

“Nope. Completely and pathetically single.” You sighed, not dramatic, but simply a deep breath that showed how tired you were from everything. And boy you were tired. Exhausted from the emotional stress of life.

“Oh?” His interest clear, just as much as his curiosity was.

“Every time I like a guy or even think about entering into a relationship, it always fucks up in a monumental way and I always end up hurt. Every single time.” You let out another tired sigh. It was hard to be single when both your friends had partners, always the third wheel. It made you really hate life at the moment. Though you suppose you’d been in worse positions than in a Chevy with your large, handsome neighbour.

You pulled up to a traffic light, John pulling up the hand break before turning to look at you with a deep seriousness gleaming not only in his eyes but on his face, his body language, his entire demeanour had become the embodiment of seriousness.

“I would never hurt you. Ever.” He was so earnest. It made your heart ache, yearn for the kind of man you’d always wanted but never had. Always boys, never men.

The light turned green just as you let out a shaky breath, fingers lacing together in your lap picking at your nails in nervousness. Heat rising on your cheeks when his hand reached over to lay itself on top of yours for a few moments before pulling your hands apart, “Don’t do that. You’ll ruin those pretty hands.” He lets go just as he looks deep into your eyes, “and we can’t have that can we.”

You didn’t know what to say, the glint in his eyes, the way he tipped his head to the side a bit. Fuck, he looked wonderful. You steeled yourself and consumed every bit of self confidence you had, “You think my hands are pretty?” You stared at him, blinking a few times, definitely not fluttering your lashes. Your eyes flickered to where his jaw seemed to clench tightly for a few moments.

The intensity was building as he leaned in closer to you, it had a burning feeling building in your stomach, a fluttering you’d never experienced before the longer he stared into your eyes

Before he could even open his mouth in reply the beeping of horns from the cars behind started going off. You cleared your throat turning to face the front of the car, “The lights green John.”

“Mhm.” It’s short. Sweet. And so fucking sexy. His voice gravely and low, rumbling in his chest as he hums. Prolonging his gaze upon you just a few more moments before he turns back to the steering wheel and begins driving off.

You quietly let out a breath you hadn’t realised had built up, it did nothing however to ease the fluttering in your stomach. Only seemed to make the nausea worsen. You made a point of not picking at your nails, instead you lay your hands over your thighs, the feeling of your skin and the material of your sundress distracting you enough to not see smirk that graced John’s lips.

John lips, those luscious kissable lips that seemed almost hidden away by the full beard that had grown around his mouth. Like some forbidden fruit hidden just enough in the garden of Eden. He seemed like some forbidden fruit.

He stopped the car just outside your house, getting out to open the car door for you to get out. “Thank you for the ride home.”

“Anytime sweetheart.” He gazed down at you, his height even more daunting now that he was standing. His whole being was just large. That was the best way to describe him.

-

Honestly, you thought about him for the rest of the evening and all night. You thought about his muscles, the way they stretched the fabric of his shirt over the skin. The way his hands seemed to dwarf everything, you wondered how big they would look holding yours. You thought about the way he smirked after calling your hands pretty. You thought about the way his blue eyes glistened when he gave you his phone number.

It was all you thought about. All that was on your mind with no way to get rid of it, no sign that the brazen thoughts would ever leave you. It was like your own personal brand of torture.

Even when you finally managed to drift off, you dreamed of him. Dreamed that he would touch you the way you wanted him to. That he would kiss you desperately, achingly. You were hungry to be touched by him, so hungry that even the very thought of tasting him made you feel nauseous. It had been so long since anything had touched you, that your body had grown accustom to the emptiness that gnawed at you day in, day out.

But maybe it was just what you needed, to push past the sickness. To hold on tight to the warmth that wanted to cover you, that wanted to wrap itself around you. But you couldn’t help but push it away, say no in cruel anticipation of the inevitable. Love is a tender kiss for most people. For you she saves her sharpest axe.

Waking up was humbling, how groggy and unhinged you felt after a night of thinking and dreaming of John. Rolling over in bed you unplugged your phone and began to scroll through your notifications. Your heart jumping in your chest at the sight of a new text; from John.

John: Hey pretty girl. 7:36am. read.

Holy shit, he’d text you this morning. Was it when he first woke up? He was he thinking about you all night too? This man is something else.

John: No reply already? I thought I would’ve had to say something stupid first before you ignored me sweetheart. ;) 9:41am. read.

You: Sorry, got distracted. How’d you sleep? 9:42am. read.

John: Like a log. You? 9:42am. read.

You: Could use a couple more hours honestly. 9:43am. read.

John: What do you have planned today sweetheart? 9:45am. read.

What did you have planned today? Rolling around in bed thinking about a well built beast with thick mutton chops. So enthralled with the simple idea of John.

Fuck you’d never met a man so….well manly. His big muscles and his thick musky scent that screamed masculine in the most primal way possible. In every circumstance, in every part of the world and every century, he would be the ideal mate. To protect and provide-

The ringing makes you jump, the phone vibrating in your hand as you see the unfamiliar number only just added to your phone. You breathe in sharply for a moment, blowing out shakily, hands beginning to sweat. And it’s not even him in person, it’s just a phone call.

“It’s just a phone call. You can press the end button at any time.” You tell yourself, reassuring yourself before sliding your thumb along the screen, the answer swipe turning green. You put the cold screen to your ear. “John?”

“I got impatient.” His voice sounded so low and deep, must be that its first thing in the morning.

“Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.” You mumble picking at the sheets surrounding you.

“Anything you wanna share? Or is it too soon to be prying into that pretty head of yours.”

“God you’re forward.” You breathe out a little laugh, a hot feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He laughed, heartily. “I’m just wired that way love.”

“I’m not sure if I like it.”

“Oh?” John voice was light and soft, if you were really leaning into it you’d notice the tinge of disappointment in the sound.

“It’s catching me off guard. I like to keep my cards close to my chest.” You swirled your finger along the pattern of the crocheted pillow in front of you.

“I’d happily let you play me.”

“John.” You breathe out another laugh, your heart skipping a beat.

“Like that,” he huffed low and wild, “like when you say my name. Sounds so nice coming from you.”

“It does?”

“Well with a pretty voice like that, I’m sure you can make anything sound nice.” He chuckled. And fuck you had to mute with how you giggled, kicking your feet with giddiness.

“So you want to go for lunch?” The rumbly bearish throaty sexy voice melted your knees until they felt like jelly.

“Again with the forwardness.” Your flushed cheeks hurt, couldn’t wipe the grin off your face, and he could hear it.

“I’m a man who knows what he wants and goes for it.” John answered without so much as a thought, the answer coming so naturally.

“I’ll consider it.” You pressed the red button and jumped in the shower, cold and brisk. It was the only way to bring your burning body temperature down.

John was unlike anybody you’d ever met, definitely better than an of your exs and you hadn’t even gotten to the deep stuff yet.

You wrapped a towel around your body and began to dry your hair with your other towel when you noticed your phone light up, a nervous grin tugging at your lips as you picked up the device and read the text.

John: Considered it yet? 10:02. read.

You shook your head, teeth biting into your smile. He was so unashamed and so bold. It made you question yourself, made you want more than you had once had. Made you want him.

You: I’d love to have lunch with you. 10:04am. read.

John: I’ll pick you up in an hour, wear that mouth watering sundress again ;) 10:04am. delivered.

Mouth watering sundress? Fuck, no one had ever said that to you before. Hell no one had ever offered so many compliments in one conversation before. He was truly a man of different breed. You giggled again falling into your bed and kicking your feet in the air, he was such a flirt. You loved it.

[norrisainz33]

the call || platonic grid & gr63

☆ summary: y/n y/l/n gets a call up to race for alpine with 6 races left in the 2024 season and she’s got something to prove.

☆ pairing: platonic!grid x crush!george russell x rookie!female!reader

☆ fc & warnings: no fc. some hate comments and poor grammar on my end

☆ a/n: i was inspired by franco and liam getting called up to race for the remainder of the season and here we are. no hate to este bestie, just pretending dw. this is not supposed to be accurate to exactly how things have been playing out. smau mixed with writing!!

part 2

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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f1: 🚨 breaking: y/n y/l/n will be racing under the number 95 for alpine for the remainder of the 2024 season alongside pierre gasly. y/n’s first race will be the united states grand prix. this is the first time since 1992 that a woman has raced in a grand prix format - this will be a historic weekend.

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user1: this is the best thing to ever happen to me you don’t understand

pierregasly: ready to attack the rest of the season with you ynuser!!

ynuser: here’s to a strong finish 💪🏻

alpinef1team: we can’t wait to have our girl on track!

user12: they really think a woman is going to be any better than what they had??? please….

user1: oh you are miserable. get out of here

georgerussell63: epic! ynuser i am so proud of you

ynuser: 🤍 see you in austin

user2: i can’t believe im witnessing a woman f1 driver in my life time. i am crying real tears of joy

landonorris: from our karting days to f1. you are amazing ynuser! looking forward to being on track with you

ynuser: so glad to be racing with you again lando 🤍

user3: this is monumental

user6: we got a woman in f1 before gta6

✿

you sat in silence staring down at the paperwork in front of you. everyone had long since left returning to their duties, allowing you to process what you had just been told. “it’s really happening,” you whispered feeling tears welling in your eyes. you were about to become an f1 driver - a real life f1 driver!! and no, not just a reserve driver who did nothing but the sim all day every day. your shoulders sagged as you blew out a sigh. “it was all worth it,” you thought back to the years of blood, sweat and tears put into racing — from leaving the comfort of your childhood home to go karting in europe, to watching your parents give up everything to make sure your dreams came true, to finding yourself in f1 academy where you won the championship, to fighting for a chance to race in f2 and becoming the only woman to finish in the points - you had given everything to this sport and you were finally getting your chance.

you picked up your phone and dialed your best friend. “y/n? hi! did you have your meeting yet?!”

“i’m going to drive the rest of the season,” you said softly.

“WHAT?!” your best friend practically screamed into the other end of the phone.

“i’m taking the second alpine seat!!! im going to be starting in austin.” the tears of happiness started falling now.

“oh my god y/n/n!!!! YOU DID IT BABY YOU DID IT!” you could hear your best friend jumping up and down in excitement.

“i did it.”

✿

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user1: i can't explain to you how excited i am to see you on track this weekend y/n

pierregasly: jealous you got the media duties with the horses and not the american football team like i did.....

ynuser: HAHA idk why they didnt send us together

pierregasly: they knew our joint slay would be too much to handle

user7: as a young woman in a male dominated field... thank you for representing us. i love you and i am so proud of you

yourbff: my flight lands in exactly 1 hour and i am shaking with excitement

ynuser: if you think you're shaking with excitement you should see me... just got word im in the pre race press conference with george and max v......... pray for me girl

yourbff: okok we knew this was going to happen. of course they'll want to talk to you!! you're the new face on the grid

ynuser: is it bad to admit im afraid?

yourbff: admitting you’re afraid just means you’re human y/n. you're allowed to feel

ynuser: idk what i'd do with out you

yourbff: you'll never have to know! now go get ready!! i'll be there just in enough time to make the conference start.

yourbff: p.s your media day fit absolutely ate that dress and the cowgirl hat was lethal. f1 should be thanking you for being such a baddie

georgerussell63: howdy ms y/n

ynuser: howdy georgie --- see you at the press conference 🙂‍↔️

georgerussell63: looking forward to it

landonorris: NEIGHHHH

ynuser: lando?

landonorris: sorry was pretending to be one of those horses so you'd pay attention to me

ynuser: hahahahaha you muppet. ive missed you

landonorris: i missed you too y/n/n! believe it or not i miss fighting it out on track with you too. ready to smoke ya just like i did in our karting days

ynuser: i mean you are in a mclaren and have a lot of practice so id certainly hope you were faster than me

landonorris: well when you put it like that its not as fun.......

user9: bought an alpine hat and am bedazzling a shirt with your name on it as we speak

✿

the alpine pr team had wasted no time sitting you down as soon as you got to austin. they ran through what to expect from your media duties, how to respond to any and all questions that might be thrown your way and how to save face if needed but somehow as you sat down on the iconic white couch and looked out at the crowd of reporters forming in front of you, you felt all of that training start to fail you. the nerves were taking over as george and max took their spots to your right. you were thankful when the british driver gave you a reassuring smile and a slight nod letting you know it was ok.

"good afternoon and welcome to the 2024 united states grand prix!" the interviewer beamed at the camera before turning his attention to the three of you. "today we are joined by max verstappen, george russell and formula 1's newest driver, y/n y/l/n."

the interviewer started by asking max about the championship and how he was feeling about lando continuing to close the gap. you used that time to steady your breathing, knowing a question was headed your way at any moment. "y/n, first of all, i want to say congratulations!" the interviewer grinned and you smiled back. "you are coming into this season with only 6 races left and a rather tall order to get up to speed quickly for some points and fight for a seat on the grid in 2025. how are you feeling about it all?"

you sighed, relieved at an easy first question, "thank you! i'm trying to take it all in stride. it's definitely a tall order because these guys have had 19 races to get a feel for their cars, work with their teams, and solidify their standings… i'm going to have exactly one free practice to learn everything before heading into sprint qualifying and i think that puts me a little bit on the back foot. though, i am more confident than ever that i can pull out some points and finish this season strong for alpine."

the interviewer nodded along intently as you spoke, "do you think being the first female in formula 1 since 1992 also puts you a bit on the back foot?"

this. this was the type of question you were dreading. you knew what it was like to be questioned about your skills purely because you were a woman, it had been happening throughout your entire life but that didn't mean it still didn't get to you. you picked your mic back up but before you could say anything into it, george was already speaking, "i don't think thats a fair question to ask. her being a woman has nothing to do with her racing, let us not forget that she is here for a reason. y/n has an incredibly impressive resume and i'd be happy to recite it for you if you need the reminder."

*george fcking russell. the man that you are* you thought as a smirk formed on your face. "thank you george," you said managing to keep your voice steady as you continued, "i don't think being a woman puts me on the back foot at all. it's 2024 - i think we're past the point of asking questions like this. I may be the first woman in way too long to race in a grand prix but i certainly will not be the last." you put the microphone down, daring the interviewer to say something in return but instead he turned his attention back to max and kept it there for the remainder of the session which you weren't mad about at all.

✿

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ynuser: p9 baby!!!!!! i scored two points!!!! cota - thank you for the love and for an incredible first weekend in formula 1. i will never forget you 🤍

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user9: best weekend of my life!!!! first gp i’ve ever been to and i got to meet you at the fan zone!! i couldn’t have asked for more

alpinef1team: try not to say goat challenge failed

ynuser: 🤍🩷

user10: i sobbed watching you cross the line

pierregasly: points points points points

ynuser: you next bestie!!

pierregasly: we’re going to both score big this triple header i just know it

user13: i love how these two have become instant friends. i hope alpine doesn’t split my family up in abu dhabi

user44: history - we’re watching you make history

francisca.cgomes: i don’t think you understand how attached i am to you now y/n

ynuser: and i don’t think you understand how much i love you kika. legally you have to come to all the rest of the races please and thank you

francisca.cgomes: for you? done!

pierregasly: um? hello?

ynuser: im sorry p.. look away

yourbff: i have no words. i love you more than life itself

ynuser: i love you - thank you for being there

landonorris: statement MADE

ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

georgerussell63: i’m so proud of you im about to openly weep

ynuser: we can openly weep together

carlossainz55: congrats y/n!

ynuser: thank you carlos 🤍

francolapinto: viva y/n!

ynuser: viva franco!

lewishamilton: 🤍🤍

ynuser: 🩷🩷

user15: noticing so many of the drivers here supporting her is everything

user4: and the fact that so many of them are praising her efforts and talking so highly of her in interviews 🥹

user15: everyone loves her (except for the rbr duo, did you see her and checo having words after that race?)

user4: omg yeah grandpa was pissed but honestly he’s probably just worried she’s going to take his seat

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user9: pretty, talented, smart … you’re the whole package

landonorris: hell yeah it does. the car will be here in about an hour! meet us in the lobby?

ynuser: yes!! assuming we shouldn’t come down too early since we run the risk of people being down there?

landonorris: yeah, no more than 5 mins before

user10: hottest person on the grid no doubt

georgerussell63: blimey i’m excited

ynuser: me too! i need a drink after this weekend

georgerussell63: you better get used to it y/n! this is your life now

ynuser: and i’m glad it is 🤍

user14: i think i have a crush on you

oscarpiastri: hi

ynuser: hi oscar!! did lando send you the details for tonight?

oscarpiastri: yes he did!

pierregasly: me and kika are ready to GO

ynuser: me and y/bff are too! let’s get this party started

user11: keep this momentum going into mexico y/n!!

user4: we needed a chronically online it girl in this sport so bad im so glad you’re here

✿

george poured you another glass of champagne as you giggled, "i should really be sick of champagne by now but i don't know that i ever will be."

"well thats good y/n/n! you're going to be drinking a lot more of it soon enough," george said loud enough that you could hear him over the music. the club was packed with more people than you would've expected for sunday evening especially a sunday evening in texas but here you were in a packed club chugging champagne with old and new friends. oscar, lily, carlos, rebecca, lando, george, pierre, kika, franco, charles and alex all came out with you and y/bff and you were honestly a bit shocked by the turn out. though you should've known that lando and george were not going to let you celebrate by yourself.

you had grown up with the two of them on the karting track and you even managed to be in f2 in the same year george won the championship. they meant a lot to you -- you looked up to them since the start so to have their unwavering support now that you made it to f1 meant more than you could express. none of this was going to be easy but being surrounded by a strong support system would make it a lot less painful.

you smiled up at george as he downed the last bit of his cocktail, intently watching as the last little bit dripped from the side of his mouth. you took a big gulp reminding yourself of the room of people around you. that was another thing that was around since your karting days... your massive crush on george. while you both had seen other people between now and then, there was no doubt that it was still alive and well. but as far as that was concerned, it was a bit of a one sided crush. it's not that george had ever told you outright that he wasn't interested, you just never had the guts to tell him and he only ever made one move and has been ignoring that it happened since. the closest you two ever got to something more than friends was the night after he won the f2 championship. you two were inseparable during that season so when he asked you to come with him back to his hotel room after his massive party, you didn't think twice about it. you two flopped down onto the bed with your takeaway meal fresh in front of you and the tv turned on to some animated movie you couldn't remember the name of. george was sitting close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body from where he gently was resting against yours. "y/n/n," he whispered causing you to look up at him, "i love you." you smiled, having heard him say this many times.. he was your best friend after all. "I love you too!" you responded and before you could process what happened, his lips were on yours. and unfortunately for you, thats about where that ended. george realized what he was doing and absolutely panicked, begged you to forgive him and to not talk about it again so thats what you did. but on nights like this one, where he was looking fine as ever... it was hard not to long for him.

"helllooooooo earth to y/n!!!" lando almost shouted pulling you out of your thoughts.

"yes, yes! hi!" you rolled your eyes taking the drink out of his hand.

the rest of the night passed in a blur of celebrations, laughs and champagne. things were looking up and you couldn't be more excited for what the future held for you. you had done it. your dream had come true.

✿

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alpinef1team: 1 down. 2 to go. mexico city, here we come!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: omg if you made it this far... thank you for reading!!! likes and reblogs are massively appreciated. i'm thinking of making this a series with y/n racing in the last few races of the season. if you liked this, let me know so i can judge if this will get a part 2!! much love 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[steddielations]

Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1

It all makes sense.

When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.

Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”

A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking. 

Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.

It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.

“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."

Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.

“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”

The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.

He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”

Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.” 

Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”

“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”

There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away. 

Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.

“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again. 

This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.

Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.

“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”

Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”  

Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.

“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”

[shortcakesturns]

omg hi ur like the only person writing for Rob from Love Island so slay of u! I was wondering if u could do like an enemies to lovers rob x reader🥹

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 - 𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

a/n: not proofread cause i’m lazy! thank you for all the support on rob!! send in requests for anybody and i’ll write for them ❤️ (I don’t just write love island!! I write much more just ask!) combined request, I can write a non smut if u want

summary: you would do anything to prove to everyone rob didn’t actually hate you, that’s when the heart rate challenge came in clutch..but it backfires.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (not safe!!), semi public sex? cream pie, rough sex. p n v, oral f receiving

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓. 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐆𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍.

rob glares at you, his eyes piercing through your skull in attempt to intimidate you. his attempts fail so he barrels towards you and bumps his shoulder with yours harshly. your hand flies up to your shoulder and eyes dart to robs, he shrugs and looks you up and down.

“go get your sluttiest outfit on y/n, i’m sure you have plenty.” he laughs and turns around. the devil really wears overalls.

an hour later after getting ready you stand in front of the mirror alone looking at your dorthy costume from the wizard of oz. a button up part at the top to reveal the white lingerie bra. a short dress that barely covers your ass with a matching lingerie thong and clear thigh high socks. little bows on your thighs, hair in bowed pigtails.

you give one last glance at yourself, this was the first time you could really make rob look stupid. get his heart rate way up, have it revealed in front of the whole group. everybody knows rob can’t stand you, and you can’t bare to be in the same room with him.

everybody goes before you, giving you enough time to think about what to do.

before you can think it’s your time, you strut down the villa floor. you hear screams from the girls and boys but rob sits there with crossed arms and a sour face.

first… it’s kenny, you get on kenny’s lap grinding a bit and making sure to withhold eye contact with rob. you lick kenny’s neck before crawling over to kordell to give kenny a good view of your thong.

(WE RESPECT THE GIRLS HERE SO THIS IS JUST TO MAKE ROB JELLY)

you go over to kordell and squat over him and grind down on him. screams are still echoing but the adrenaline is getting to you. blood rushes to your head while blood rushes to robs dick. he keeps a straight face so you needed to up your game.

then came kendall…you get up on kendall’s lap and do a couple of tricks and shaking your ass a bit. maintaining eye contact with rob.

miguel was next, you got down on your knees in front of him. “you think you can save me miguel?” you look up at him innocently.

then Aaron, you get on his lap and grind a bit.. but then robs turn it was. you grab him by the collar bringing him to the front and kicking him down.

a tent was very much in his pants, his jaw was clenched and body was tense. this was monumental for the other islanders. despite being in a couple the only reason you guys were together was so you weren’t voted off. everyone got louder as you kicked his chest and then his neck and then grinding down on his rock hard cock.

whining touching your breasts, “there’s no place like home…right rob?.” you kiss his mouth and grab his collar again and slam him down. standing up above him your heel barely missing his ear. you walk away and join the rest of the girls and then the boys leave screaming in excitement.

the girls surround the fire pit in anticipation, you can’t help but think you might’ve messed up with rob. every-time you grinded on a guy. you could see the rage that was building up inside of him.

every guy goes and does their tricks. but when rob comes out. you see revenge in his eyes. he couldn’t let you outdo him and you couldn’t let him raise your heart and face the humiliation.

after a bit of eye contact, it was finally your turn. rob threw out over his shoulder and laid you down face down, ass up. wrapping his lasso around your waist and grinding down while holding your hips up. nipping and kissing at your neck. he grabs your hair slightly to make you look at him “is that the best you can do baby?” then lets your hair go and joins the fire pit and so do the guys.

it was now time to see who raised your heart the most.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘𝐒..𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀

𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄

𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑.

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑.

𝐑𝐎𝐁...𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐘/𝐍

holy shit, your plan had worked. a stupid smirk plastered across your face as everyone mouth drops.

“I’ll take that smirk right off your face y/n.” rob whispered in your ear lowly.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒..

𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑: 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀: 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀: 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋.

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐇: 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄: 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐀: 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘

𝐘/𝐧...𝐑𝐎𝐁.

this can’t be right, this can’t be right at all. your face is bright red and your face is burning up. “is that so princess? and you laughed at me getting turned on by you..not my fault you looked so damn slutty in this cute little outfit.”

he tugs on your dress a bit and everybody gets hype but soon after ariana leaves and your all left to yourself, another text comes through.

𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒..𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍. 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄.

with no hesitation the islanders all pick you and rob. claiming it’s a fuck it out scenario. but you couldn’t stand robs ego. rob had the biggest ego. this was not a fuck it out thing..sure rob has a great body, but personality was unbearable to you.

“nothings happening tonight y/n.” he says to you coldly. the girls grabbing you before you could talk back.

the boys surround rob and then suddenly your picking out a cute lacy piece of lingerie.

“are you guys gonna fuck tonight?” leah blurts out moving her brows up and down.

“hell no, this is just to show him what he could have if he wasn’t such a big dick to me.” the girls brows raise and burst out into laughter.

the girls run down the stairs, you follow them very far behind so rob can get a good look at your body. rob stands there with no emotion but hand over his dick to hide the boner that’s forming.

he eye fucks you and says the goodbyes to the other islanders as you enter the hideaway.

you look around and it’s beautiful, but rob quickly drags your hands to the bedroom and bends you over the bed.

“act like a slut huh?” SMACK “getting my heart rate up?” SMACK “embarrassing me?” SMACK

“r-rob i’m sorry.” you let out, parting your legs farther. you couldn’t deny anymore.

you needed rob to fuck the ever loving shit out of you.

“you want this?” he asks.

you nod and blurt out yes.

“good girl.” he kneels down and takes your thong off swiftly shoving those pretty panties into his pocket.

you still couldn’t see him so the uncertainty of not knowing what was coming next was turning you on, you were practically dripping and a mess.

rob swipes his finger up and down your slit before pushing two fingers into your wet hole and licking and sucking your clit aggressively.

moans are heard against your cunt, making the pleasure more intense. you tighten around his fingers. “your not cumming on my fingers.”

he quickly pulls away fumbling with his belt and hearing his pants drop. a harsh slap is landed on your ass again. you were sure your ass was red.

he uses his foot to part your legs more and lines himself up with your cunt and pushing in slowly. he throws his pretty head back and begins to thrust into you deep and slow.

“you like torturing me pretty baby?” he whines.

“fuck this pussy is amazing, gonna fuck you everywhere.” he whines and whines.

you couldn’t get a word in since his thrusts speed up. he was pretty big. very big. you were full.

he pulls out and flips you to your back. “wanna see that cute face of yours when I fill you up with my cum.”

he pushes back in speeding up and letting the white ring form around his dick, suddenly you tighten against him and rob lets out a strained groan and everything goes black when your eyes glue themselves together. water gushes from your cunt onto the sheets, floor, and rob.

“oh holy shit your doing that again y/n.” his thrusts get harder and faster and he makes you squirt again and again till he’s satisfied.

“i’m gonna cum pretty girl.” his thrusts get sloppy and then strings of cum fill your cunt up.

he topples over onto the bed pulling you with him.

“maybe it was a fuck it out thing, your pretty y/n.”

he kisses your forehead.

“also, kaylor told me I was a big dick to you..so question is my attitude matching my dick size or whatever.”

you slap him.

“shut up.” you smirk.

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Don’t Call Me Kid - Aaron Hotchner

“don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me.”

——

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Reader confesses their feelings for Hotch, they have an angsty yet adult conversation about it.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I was originally not going to give this a happy ending but I got too sad writing it and changed my mind, also yes i’ve been writing a lot don’t criticize me lol

TW: alcohol mention, angst, age gap, slight physical touch (all respectful, nothing sexual), slight implied daddy issues, fem reader

Rating: G

——

Aaron Hotchner was not a man one could approach without a level head. He was rational, always thinking of the most reasonable course of action, weighing every outcome before making any decision. He had to be, as hasty decision-making had cost him more than he cared to discuss.

You knew that, you’d worked under him for two years now and although he didn’t discuss his private life all that frequently at work, these weekly team meetups at the local bar taught you more than enough about him as a person. The usual stoic head of the team was kind, funny, encouraging, albeit a bit quiet until he knew you a bit better.

About a year into your time with the team you let slip that you’d never explored the city, and Rossi wasted no time letting Aaron know about it. A week later he was driving you around, explaining the history behind the popular monuments you had requested a visit to, then spending an hour at the Folger Shakespeare Library to admire the historic architecture and impressive selection of literature, and ending the day at the Moongate Garden, watching the sunset on a bench surrounded by cherry blossoms.

From that day you knew if there was anything you needed, all you had to do was ask. He’d shown you your favorite restaurant, the coffee shop you sat in every free morning you had, reading books he’d suggested you read. You didn’t want to admit it, but you had fallen hard for him, and over the last year those feelings became harder and harder to push down.

It was 2 a.m. and the bartender had announced last call, earning a disappointed groan from Penelope.

“We were just getting started!” She whined, her speech slightly slurred.

“You’ve had more than enough for tonight Babygirl, let’s get you home.” Derek caught her waist, steadying her as she rose from the booth the team had been sitting in.

“I better get going too, Will has to work early so I have to take Henry to school in the morning.” JJ added, playfully rolling her eyes.

The rest of the group finished up their drinks, wrapping up the current conversation before shuffling out of the bar. You said your goodbyes, giving parting hugs before pulling out your phone, ready to order yourself a rideshare home. Your cell service was almost non-existent and the app was taking forever to load, the chill in the air causing goosebumps to form on your bare legs. You raised your phone in the air, trying to gain a better signal as you walked back and forth in front of the bar, growing increasingly frustrated.

Aaron exited the bar as you made another pass by the entrance, tripping as your ankle wobbled in your heels. He was quick to catch you, helping you find your footing once more.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asked, offering you his suit jacket for warmth.

“I’m trying to order a taxi but the app won’t load.” Your frustration was evident, each tap of your finger against the glass of your smartphone just a little too firm.

“You don’t live far, correct? I can walk you home.” He offered, his hand still lingering on the small of your back to steady you. You weren’t drunk, not by a long shot, but you didn’t handle your liquor the best and although you were mostly there mentally, your center of gravity had been better.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way for me.” You countered, always raised to decline at least once when offered anything to remain polite.

“I want to make sure you get home safe, it’s really no trouble.” You knew he was earnest, always such a father figure to every member of the team. You put your phone in your bag, throwing it over your shoulder before turning to walk down the street that led to your apartment building.

You walked in silence for a while, his hand hovering behind you just in case your clumsiness kicked in along your walk. His suit jacket was surprisingly warm, the stiff fabric shielding your bare arms from the cold. You weren’t sure why you’d chosen to wear a short sleeved blouse when it was nearing the end of fall, but you suspected it subconsciously had something to do with how well the v-neck showed off your cleavage. You felt a bit pathetic sometimes, finding any way you could to attempt to pull his attention. It never worked, Aaron respected you too much to stare at your figure no matter how provocatively you dressed.

After a few blocks your heel caught on a storm grate, making you stumble forward. His reflexes were impressive as ever, his arm reaching out to catch your waist.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.” You joked, straightening your skirt as you started again on your journey home. He didn’t say anything, but the slight smile his lips formed told you he found your try at humor in an awkward moment amusing.

“It’s just around this corner, I’ll be fine from here.” You tried to wave him off, dying to disappear into your apartment to prevent further embarrassing yourself.

“I’m walking you up to your apartment, I need to see you home safe.” He stated, turning the corner with you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, his domineering yet caring tone making your heart race. This was all becoming too much, the protectiveness, the slight touches, you could feel something burning in your chest, the urge to spill your guts growing stronger by the minute.

He waited for you to punch in the code to the front door of your apartment building before holding it open for you, following you to the elevator up to your floor. You took the quiet ride up, him continuing to follow you down the hallway to your apartment when the doors opened. You opened your bag, fiddling around for your keys for a moment before finding them, your hand shaking as you tried to unlock the door. You finally got it, pushing open the front door and stepping into your messy living room.

“How are you getting home?” You asked, setting your bag on the small table next to the door.

“I’ll order a taxi, I’m just glad you’re home safe.” He began to pull out his phone, and the liquid courage coursing through your veins told you to invite him in.

“Do you want to come in while you wait?” You offered, handing his suit coat back to him. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and making sure to lock it, never too cautious.

He laid his suit coat over the back of your coach, taking a seat before taking out his phone again to order his ride.

“It won’t be ready for another 30 minutes, I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.” He was far too courteous, and all you wanted to do was tell him how badly you wanted him to stay forever.

“You could never.” You told him, kicking off your heels before sitting next to him on the couch. You took a deep breath, trying to settle yourself as you picked up the book that was resting on your coffee table. You watched over the top of the pages to see him glancing around the room, scanning the contents until he stopped on the media console across the room. He stood from his place next to you and walked over to it, taking a knee to get down to the same level as your record collection.

“You have impressive taste.” He stated matter-of-factly, his long fingers brushing across the spines of each album. You gave a quiet ‘thank you’ as he began to pull a record out, and you placed your book down again to see what had caught his eye.

“I didn’t know you listened to The Beatles.” He held up the jacket of the band’s white album, looking to you in slight disbelief.

“Of course, The White Album is one of the greatest of all time.” You were excited to talk music with him, it was a topic you’d never discussed before and you were always eager to learn more about him. That may have been to your own detriment, because the more you learned about him, the harder you seemed to fall.

You knew a relationship between the two of you could never happen, he was your superior, not to mention twenty years your senior, but something felt like it was pulling you to him no matter how many guys you tried to distract yourself with.

“You never fail to surprise me.” He smiled, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling just so. You could’ve died right there, content to collapse into a puddle of yearning. You didn’t know what came over you, but you found yourself clearing your throat as a rush of adrenaline coursed through you.

“Aaron, I have to tell you something.” Your voice shook, but you remained strong in your conviction.

His faint smile turned to a look of concern, quickly rising from his knee to join you on the couch again.

“What is it?” He questioned, brow furrowed as he angled his body toward you.

“I-It’s, nevermind.” That burst of adrenaline quickly faded, his eyes on you feeling like a cigarette burn.

“Y/N, whatever it is, you can trust me. I understand if you’re not comfortable telling me, but don’t let fear hold you back on my account.” He reassured you, resting his hand on your knee sympathetically. You had to do it, there was no way you could face him every day if you brushed him off without an explanation.

“I’m in love with you.” You blurted out, hanging your head, too afraid of what his reaction would be to dare look him in the eye. The silence that sat between you two felt like it carried on forever, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. After what felt like an eternity he cleared his throat, still holding his hand on your knee.

“Why do you feel that way?” He asked, trying to understand where this was coming from. He couldn’t deny that he had felt chemistry between you, but it wasn’t something he could ever entertain acting on.

“Over the last year I’ve gotten to know you in ways I never dreamed I would, I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, even those I once thought I loved in the past. You’ve been so kind, Aaron, you’re an incredible friend, father, leader, how could I be anything but amazed by you?” You felt as though you were rambling, but he seemed so invested in your answer that you didn’t care if what you said was rational.

“I understand.” He confirmed, turning silent as the gears turned in his mind. You could tell he was fighting something internally, the look of concentration on his face seeming almost painful.

You pulled your knee out from under his hand, your nerves convinced that he was looking for a way to fire you without creating an HR nightmare. As quickly as you pulled away he had moved closer to you, his hand finding its place on your knee once more.

“Look at me.” He said, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin. You did as you were told, tears threatening your waterline as you did your best to hold his gaze.

“I’m not going to lie to you, you are a very charming young woman and I’d be honored to pursue something more intimate with you, but we can’t. I’m your superior, and you’re young enough to be my daughter.” He explained, the pain in his expression serving to break your heart in two.

“I don’t care.” You were not thinking rationally in that moment, your heart speaking for you instead of your head.

“You should, this is your future.” His tone held frustration this time, finding your childish response disappointing.

“I am not a child Aaron, I can make my own decisions.” You told him, a tear slipping down your cheek as you grew increasingly frustrated with his stonewalling.

“I know that, but you’re young, you have so much to experience and you shouldn’t put that on hold for me, or anyone else for that matter.” Even through his anger he was just trying to steer you in the responsible direction, thinking more about your future than whatever desires he held.

“I have all I’ve ever wanted, my dream has always been to work for the FBI. I don’t have any delusions of grandeur, I never have. I want a job where I’m doing good and a family to come home to when all is said and done.” You explained, and it wasn’t a lie. It’s not that you weren’t driven, you clearly had to be to even make it to the bureau, but that was as far as you wanted your drive to take you.

“For this to work, I can not be your boss, and I won’t ask you to step down.” He continued evaluating each possible risk in your dynamic, and for once you were one step ahead of him.

“You don’t have to, I put in for a transfer to the financial crime unit last week.” You finally let the other secret you’d been keeping slip, and you watched his face drop in disappointment.

“The team is going to miss you more than you know.” He told you, wishing he had known so he could have convinced you otherwise.

“I know, but I couldn’t bare the thought of being around you every day while I feel like this, and I was fascinated by the way their team handled the case we partnered with them on last month. The timing felt right.” You explained, needing him to know that it was not his fault, but a conscious decision you made.

“I just want to try.” You pleaded one last time, hoping he’d let his walls down just this once.

“If this is really what you want, I’ll take you out next weekend. If we’re going to do this, I’m going to do it the right way, you deserve that much.” He gave in, letting himself do something personally risky for the first time in years.

“I would love that.” You agreed, all of the anger and frustration that had been building up over the last year finally starting to dissipate ever so slightly.

How it would pay off, only time would tell, but for now, you were content to just get to know him more and show him who you are the best you can.

——

Part 2 can be found here

Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or Aaron Hotchner taglist :)

[vivwritesfics]

you wanted more requests, here you are darlin

lando talking about reader in an interview/podcast?

Trying so hard to do my dissertation and it's not happening rn ��

Keep on sending em in!

Lando was smitten. In love. Obsessed. He'd been in love before, but never like this.

She was his everything. Lando had her on his home screen, he had one of her favourite rings on a chain around his neck. He had a bracelet made by her around his wrist, too, letting the world know just who he belonged to.

And Lando tried to get Y/N to come to every single grand prix. It wasn't easy, especially with her studies, but, when she could, she did.

Lando showed her off to the whole paddock. He loved his girlfriend so fucking much, always had his arm around her as they walked towards the McLaren garage.

It wasn't uncommon for the cameras to catch Y/N stealing Landos McLaren cap and placing it on her head. It was so fucking cute.

Whenever the fans didn't see Y/N at the grand prix, there was always speculations. Always Lando was asked about Y/N while he was doing interviews, but always he answered with the truth. She was studying, she had her own life.

On the weekend Lando got his first win, Y/N just so happened not to be there. That was just his luck, huh? He gets the win, but no Y/N there to kiss him.

"Lando, how are you feeling after your first win in Formula One?" Jenson Button asked him as the rest of the cars pulled into Parc Fermé.

Lando placed his hand on his head as he looked at Jenson on the cameras. "Oh my god, Man," he shouted as the crowd cheered. '"This is the most incredible feeling and now I can retire happy!" He said and laughed.

Jenson kept going with the interview. "The car was good and the pace was clearly good. This wasn't just a win for me, but it was a win for McLaren, for the entire team and everyone back at the factory."

"Do you think we'll be seeing any more McLaren wins this season?"

Lando took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, my girlfriend couldn't be here for this race so I'll have to get another when she's here to celebrate.," he said, but a part of him knew Y/N was at home, jumping around in front of the television.

And that was exactly right. Y/N had a few over to study and everything, but the moment the race started, she and her friends dropped everything to watch it.

There were shouts of 'come on Lando!' and Y/N was anxiously chewing her nail as Lando got closer and closer to the race leader.

And then Lando crossed the finish line in first. The screams that came from that apartment were monumental - her neighbours must have thought someone died.

Y/N had champagne in her fridge. She grabbed it and popped the top, spraying it all over her friends as they cheered. (This was something she would later regret, after seeing the mess of the sofa, the carpet and the walls).

And then they watched Lando being interviewed by Jenson Button. The moment he mentioned Y/N, her friends began screaming yet again.

That day, Y/N decided she wasn't going to miss another race, if she could help it (of course, studying came first, but any weekend she could, she was going to be with Lando).

[snowyquokka]

Hey I saw that you wanted ideas for some angst, thought I would shoot my shot. What if one of or all of them idk you choose the boys calls reader clingy and reader gets insecure about it. It's okay if you don't feel like it tho. Take care of yourself and drink lot's of water❤️❤️ I'm new to your blog but I really love your work hope to see more of it in the future❤️❤️❤️

CLINGY

cw - non idol!minho x gn!reader, angst (😈), swearing, fluffy ending, hurt comfort kinda

wc- 1.1k

a.n - IT’S DONE !! i am exhausted but hey it’s out 😭😭 anyway i’m sorry for being a bit MIA lately, i’ve been having a bit of a rough time but it’s getting better. i’m not sure if i like this piece or not tho :((( I LOVE YOU MUAH <3

AND I JUST REALIZED THIS IS MY FIRST LINO FIC OMG THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY

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All day, the silence in the house seemed to echo with Minho's absence, each tick of the clock stretching the worry tighter across your mind. The morning had started off on the wrong foot, with Minho oversleeping- a rare occurrence which in turn threw off his whole routine. The rushed breakfast, the hasty goodbye—everything felt off-kilter. It was unlike him to be late, especially for his job at the veterinary clinic, a place he often described as his second home, where he could merge his passion for animals with his skills in care and healing. The hurried departure left a cold space in the wake of his frantic energy.

The argument from the night before added layers to your concern. It was one of those disagreements that seemed trivial in the light of day, yet in the shadow of the night, it had grown into a monumental barrier between you two. It wasn't just the words exchanged or the silence that followed, but the unresolved tension that lingered, making the air heavy with unsaid apologies and unexpressed affections. The fact that Minho had been irritable even before the argument didn't help, it only amplified the discomfort, casting a shadow over his usual bright demeanor.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself glancing at the clock, counting the hours until Minho's return. The thought of him dealing with the stress of work on top of everything else weighed heavily on you as guilt settled in. It wasn't just the worry for his mental state, but also the longing for reconciliation. You knew the importance of mending the rift, of clearing the air with conversations that bridged the gap between hurt and healing. The thought of him walking through the door, the opportunity to start anew, to offer a smile as a peace offering, became a beacon of hope in the slow march of the day. But as you continue to relive the argument you can’t help the pang of sorrow that strikes your heart like lighting, complimenting the storm of emotions whirling about your being. 

The dispute sparked when you casually asked him about his day. To you, it was a simple question, but Minho perceived it as intrusive, deeming you "too clingy" and expressing his exhaustion with what he viewed as your constant nagging.Since then you’ve been running yourself into the ground trying to get as much stuff around the house as you can. If Minho comes home to a clean house, you think, then there’ll be one less reason for him to be irritated with you. 

The sound of keys jingling faintly outside the door interrupts your thoughts. You had just finished cooking dinner and were plating it just in time as Minho to strolls in. 

“Mm,“ he hums in approval as he wraps his long arms around your waist, gently tugging your back to his front. He rests his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “Smells good, baby. Thank you.” You hum and nod, not sure what to do. He was just complaining about you being clingy but here he is, swaying you side-to-side. Minho clearly sensed your apprehension and pulled back with a sigh. “Why am I getting the silent treatment?” 

You aren’t sure how to respond to that. You weren’t purposefully trying to ignore him, you’re just confused and you don’t know how to voice that. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” you turn around towards him and lean back against the kitchen island, using your hands to brace yourself.

Minho hums and folds his arms over his chest. He raises a brow, wanting you to continue. You huff and tip your head back for a moment before looking directly at him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to come off too clingy.” Your tone came off a little harsher than you’d planned and you watch as his expression shifts into something more serious, guilty even.

“Shit, baby I- I didn’t mean it, you know that. I shouldn’t have said it and-” You shake your head, effectively cutting him off. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just-” 

His eyes begin to soften as he inches back into your space. “Hey. Hey,” Minho murmurs as his hands find purchase on your shoulders in an attempt to provide at least some semblance of comfort. He’s always been the type to have some sort of contact when talking to you like this. It makes it feel more personal, more sincere, especially when he ends up apologizing. “Don’t do that, you know I hate it. I’m the one who should be sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I was just stressed and I know that isn’t an excuse.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you, I made you upset.” 

Minho shakes his head. “I want you to ask about my day, I want you to show that you care. It makes me feel important. You make me feel important.” You pull your lip in between your teeth, a nervous habit you picked up as a child. 

"Are you sure? Because I will-" Minho clicks his tongue and leans his forehead against yours, his brown eyes sparkling.

"I never want you to feel insecure about anything I say, regardless of what it is. I understand I can be hot-headed, and I'm working to fix that, but I want you- I need you- to tell me when I’m doing something that’s upsetting you. I love you and I promise you I didn’t mean any of it.” He presses a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of your nose with a smile. The action makes your stomach erupt with butterflies and you know everything will be okay. You’ll always bounce back and find your way back to each other. 

Minho looks down and locks his pinkys around yours before looking back up at you. “You okay now?” You nod and lean against him further with a content sigh. 

“I love you too, Min.” Minho begins to open his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 

“Even if you’re a dick sometimes.” You say with amusement laced in your tone and a grin.

“I guess I’m lucky you put up with me then.” 

“Now you’re getting it,”

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tags: @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @kaiyaba @solisyeah

[blueiscoool]

Man Discovers 900-Year-Old Stone Carving Beneath His House in Germany

The rare picture stone may depict Otto of Bamberg, the bishop who helped spread Christianity throughout the region.

During a recent home renovation in Klotzow, Germany, a man stumbled upon something unexpected: a three-foot-long bildstein, or picture stone, dating to the 12th century.

The boulder features a carved figure draped in robes with a cross in front of his body. Experts think it may represent Otto of Bamberg, the bishop and missionary credited with spreading Christianity to the region. It’s also the only known picture stone to depict a figure with a cross.

Klotzow is a village located in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, a state in northern Germany. According to a statement from the state’s culture ministry, a resident named Peter Wittenberg discovered the stone while working on his home’s foundations. The large artifact was buried just a few centimeters below the surface.

Wittenberg, who knew he had found something special, reported his discovery to officials. Experts moved it to the city of Schwerin, where researchers could conduct a careful examination.

“The significance of this find cannot be overestimated,” says Detlef Jantzen, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern’s chief archaeologist, in the statement. “The new find from Klotzow is the only one that could depict a Christian dignitary. Now, we are going to try to learn more about the stone’s original location.”

Carved picture stones first appeared in the 4th century and were produced through the 12th century. They featured a rich variety of artistic styles, and many of them served as memorials to individuals who had died. According to the culture ministry, picture stones that reveal evidence of Christianization are especially rare.

Born in 1060, Otto of Bamberg dedicated his life to converting populations in an area known as Pomerania, located in parts of present-day Germany and Poland. According to some accounts, the number of people he baptized may be in the tens of thousands.

“With this exceptionally significant find, we can add another important piece to the mosaic of our country’s history,” says Bettina Martin, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern’s culture minister, in the statement. “Bishop Otto of Bamberg undertook his first missionary journey to Pomerania in 1124. The fact that a picture stone from this period has now been found exactly 900 years later is an extremely fortunate circumstance.”

There are only around 20 known picture stones in the region today, as Jantzen tells Live Science’s Laura Geggel. He thinks the figure’s shawl and cross could be a pallium, a religious cloth worn by the pope, archbishops and some bishops.

“Otto received the pallium from Pope Paschalis II,” Jantzen adds. “When Otto was traveling in Pomerania in 1124 and 1128, he was the first and only possible bearer of a pallium at that time in that area.”

Specialists in Schwerin are currently examining and documenting the stone artifact. When they’re done, officials hope to display it in Klotzow, where it was found.

“The finder deserves thanks and the highest recognition for reporting his discovery immediately,” says Martin in the statement. “The experts from the State Office for Culture and Monument Preservation and the local monument protection authority will now take care of securing and further examining this one-of-a-kind find.”

By Julia Binswanger.

[stxrslut]

HUMILIATED 𖤍

summary; when rafe gets with you as a barrier to stand between the tension that stands in stone between him and his drug dealer, but the moment barry realises what he's doing, he takes it to his utmost advantage and uses you to prove to rafe that he will never be anything other than pathetic to him  

content; rafebarry x reader, dubcon, ass eating, use of weed, “bitch” is used in a derogatory way towards reader

rafe cameron is a pathetic man. there’s no doubt about it, anyone who’s ever met him has found it out in some way or another. you’d been told this when he started going after you, and to your dismay, you’d ignored it. you’d had no idea that rafe had alternate motivations when he began pursuing you, but you were ever so wrong. 

maybe one month ago, more or less, there had been a rather monumental night. rafe and barry, up late, smoking, had fucked. it was quick and rushed and sweaty and gross. and then rafe had run for the hills, never to acknowledge the night again, or so he thought. 

overcome by a mountain of emotions and complicated thought processes, he’d done everything possible to distract himself, starting with a few hookups, and then a relationship with you. 

you do the job well enough for him, but even so the dealer is always somewhere in his mind. you notice sometimes when you’re having sex that he just disassociates, but you’re not sure what he’s thinking of, maybe that’s just how he is in bed. 

whilst you’re not aware of all of the backstory behind them, you know something is up with rafe and barry. when you tag along with rafe on his weekly visits the tension between them is tangible. barry always remains stony faced,rafe always looks similar to a prey animal, scared, skittish, ready to run or play a defence. you quickly become aware that you are his defence. 

rafe takes you there to try and intimidate him. to try and show him, to send a message that says “I don’t need you.” 

tonight is one of those nights. you are sat cross legged on one of the two couches on barry’s front porch. you feel rather uncomfortable. 

the two men are smoking weed, each of them have their own joint, because apparently sharing doesn’t happen anymore. rafe occasionally offers you a drag, which you occasionally take, but you think if you got high, the tension in the air would make you puke. it might make you puke anyway. 

nobody has said anything for over five minutes. you decide to crawl into rafe’s lap, for some comfort, retreat, maybe just to make him break this deafening silence. 

rafe lets you take a place straddling his lap, you wriggle down there to get comfortable before you rest your head on his chest. to your absolute disappointment, the silence continues. 

another ten minutes, maybe fifteen, you can’t keep count. you hear the moving of cushions from behind you, barry must be changing the position that he’s sitting in. 

looking up, you see rafe’s jaw ticking in supposed frustration. you can tell that the thoughts are rushing around behind his eyes before his gaze hardens and he looks back down to you. 

without speaking, his hand cups the back of your head and he pulls you up to lock lips with him. the kiss is sudden and a little too intense for the context, being that his drug dealer is watching it happen. 

there’s really not a way for you to protest and this does help occupy the quiet and awkward just a little bit so you don’t. along with you not protesting, it escalates just a little bit. a lot actually, within minutes you’re humping on his bulge. 

your mouth no longer on his lips and now on his neck, you can see his face just a little bit. he’s staring right at barry, not looking away, not blinking. his only acknowledgement of you is the hand on your lower back, guiding your movements just a little bit. 

you think maybe you should just stop, walk home without him and escape this turmoil of looks and telepathic communications you can’t tap in on. but something else happens before you can act on it. 

you don’t see it coming, so it takes you by surprise when barry’s firm pair of hands pull you back to stand up against him. 

“fuckin’ done with this.” he grumbles, but he’s not speaking to you, he’s speaking to rafe, who’s face you can now see is bright red, eyes wide and lips parted. “you think you’re such a tough guy huh? nah. we’re not doin’ this no more. you wanna fuckin’ show off your girl like that makes you better. huh?” 

he yells, pushing you aside but blocking you in, as he goes down to rafe’s level. you watch in shock as he leans forward and grabs rafe by the collar. then he pushes him down to lay on his stomach on the couch, making his cheek smush up against a pillow that probably smells of mould. 

once rafe’s pants are pulled down and his ass is revealed to the cold evening air, barry grabs you once more, forming a ponytail in your hair to keep a firm hold of you. 

his mouth comes up close to your ear, “you think your man’s tough huh? nah. gonna show you what a fuckin’ pathetic little son of a bitch he is.” the dealer's words are driven by an anger that you are not sure the origin of. 

you have to avoid yelping when suddenly you’re pushed to your knees and your face is inches away from his ass. you can guess now what you’re about to do. 

hand still on your head, barry levels his face with rafe now, “feel like a big guy now rafe? do you feel good?” 

and then your face is shoved down. your mouth immediately comes into contact with his asshole. by default, you begin to move a little, parting your lips and tonguing at it. barry chuckles, “this girl knows what to do, doesn't she? you got her trained rafe? you like having your ass ate?” 

rafe whimpers. he feels humiliated, this is not the reason he ever dated you. he dated you for confidence in himself, not whatever the fuck this is. 

unfortunately, for him that is, pleasure is there too, and he can’t resist reacting to it. his ass shifts upwards to accommodate the boner that was pressing into the couch uncomfortably. 

the sounds he’s making are oh so pathetic, whimpers and whines and little begs to barry to stop this. he doesn’t stop though. 

even when you come up for a breath of air you’re swiftly pushed right back down by his firm hand, “keep goin’ bitch. I didn’t tell you to stop.” 

after chastising you, barry turns to rafe with a clear sense of what he’s about to do. “look at you. fuckin’ pathetic. never gonna be the big man you think you are rafe cameron.” 

it takes just a few more seconds and then rafe cries out embarrassingly loud. “mmh- fuck. get her off o’me.. stop it.” tears are falling down his cheeks while he feels nothing but humiliation at what he’s doing. 

barry does pull you away, pushing you aside, but only after he’s sure that rafe has endured every last second of his orgasm. 

you move up to sit on the floor two feet away, eyes fixated on the two. rafe is breathless, body limp on the couch, cheeks red and tearstained. his eyes bore into barry’s, it’s like they’re speaking in their heads again. whatever the fuck has happened between these two, you just hope to god you don’t have to stay a part of it.

[lvnleah]

Euros Glory | Leah Williamson

Summary: You and your daughter watch on from the stands as your wife, Leah, wins the euros.

based on this request!

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Nerves bubbled up inside you as you tried to get ready for the Euros final. Your wife, Leah, and her teammates had worked so hard to get to this moment and were so close to claiming the title and bringing it home.

You and your four-year-old daughter, Lily, hadn’t seen Leah in over a week. Leah’s other family hadn’t seen her for around eight but you and Lily were allowed to see her once a week. Leah had fought for the special arrangements as eight weeks was too long for Lily.

You started your day at the hotel, the room abuzz with nervous energy. Lily could barely contain her excitement, she bounced on the bed as you tried to wrestle her into her miniature England kit. She was already waving the small England flag you’d brought along.

“Hold still for just a minute, Lily,” you laughed, attempting to comb her hair into something resembling neatness.

“But Mummy, I want to see Mumma! When can we go?” she asked, her voice a bundle of excitement.

“Soon, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes,” you assured her, smoothing down her hair.

“Look, Mummy! Match Mumma!” she squealed, turning round and showing you the back of her shirt

“Yes, and Mumma will be so happy to see you wearing it,” you said, your heart swelling with affection as you helped her slip into the shirt.

By mid-morning, you joined Leah’s family for a quick breakfast. Leah’s parents were just as nervous and excited as you are, their pride evident in their every word. You exchanged smiles and reassurances, a silent agreement that today was going to be special.

At the stadium, the atmosphere was electric. The buzz of thousands of fans, the sea of England flags, and the energy are all a testament to how monumental this match was. You took your seats, and you could barely contain your nerves as you tried to keep Lily occupied.

Before the game, you managed a brief visit to the players' area. Leah, already in her kit and with a focused expression, breaks into a radiant smile when she sees you.

“Lils! Look at you!” Leah exclaimed, her smile big as she knelt to hug Lily. “You look just like me!”

“I’m gonna cheer for you really loud, Mumma!” Lily promised, her small arms wrapped tightly around Leah's neck.

Leah stood up and pulled you into a quick hug with Lily on her hip, “I’m doing this for you, both my girls.”

“You’re going to do us so proud, love,” you whispered back, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“Time to go,” one of the staffers called. Leah gave you one last smile before joining her teammates, her face a mask of fierce concentration.

The game itself is a whirlwind of emotions. Germany proved to be a tough opponent, and every pass and every tackle had you on the edge of your seat.

In the 62nd minute, Ella managed to score a goal and Lily jumped up and down as the whole box celebrated. 17 minutes later, Germany equalised and you were sure you were going to have a heart attack.

Lily clutched her flag, jumping up and down with every near miss and goal attempt. Full time came and went and before you knew it, the girls were in extra time.

You felt sick. All you wanted was for Leah and the girls to win, they deserved it after everything they’d been through. You watched on the edge of your seat as Chloe finally scored in the 110th minute.

The stadium erupted again and everyone celebrated once again. You and Leah’s mum, Amanda, held each other's hands tightly as you watched them keep Germany out for the remaining time that extra time held.

When the final whistle blew and the score stood at 2-1 in favour of England, the roar of the crowd was deafening. You found yourself crying, a mix of relief, joy, and pride overwhelming you.

You made your way down to the front, just in time to see Leah and her teammates lifting the trophy. The confetti rained down, and the players' faces were a mix of elation and exhaustion. Leah spotted you before walking over and lifting Lily over the barrier.

She slipped her medal over Lily’s head, the gold gleaming against her small frame. Lily’s eyes widened as she held the medal, her face lighting up with pure joy.

“Look what I got, Mummy!” she smiled, running around the pitch, showing off ‘her’ medal to the girls, who indulge her with laughs and high-fives.

Leah pulled you over the barrier and pulled you close, her voice soft in your ear. “We did it.”

“You did it,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her. “I’m so proud of you.”

As the celebrations continued, the team cheered and celebrated, Lily was passed around. It started with Mary, then Ella and Alessia, then Keira before she ended up dancing with Chloe.

That evening, back at the hotel, Leah’s grandma offered to watch Lily, allowing you to join the team’s celebration. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter, music, and endless toasts. You lost count of the number of times you heard the anthem of “Football’s coming home,” and each time, it brought a fresh wave of joy.

Later, Leah and you slipped away, leaving the chaos behind. In the quietness of your hotel room, you both stood on the balcony as you held each other close.

“This was all for you,” Leah smiled, pecking your lips, “I love you, Mrs Williamson.”

“I love you too, Mrs Williamson,” you cheesily grinned, “I’m so proud of you.”

[adverbally]

I Can Never Go Home Anymore

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day twelve prompt “graveyard” | wc: 974 | rated: T | cw: death of a parent, references to abuse and neglect by a parent | tags: Steddie established relationship, funeral and burial (for Mr. Harrington), Harrington family angst, Steve’s complicated relationship with his mom

———

Steve’s hands are shaking on the steering wheel. Firmly positioned at ten and two, wrapped around the leather with the familiarity that comes from years of driving, and they’re still shaking.

“We can leave,” Eddie reminds him from the passenger seat. “You don’t even have to get out of the car.”

He shakes his head. They already missed the viewing last night and this morning’s mass. He can’t miss the burial, too. “No, I need to stay.” When Steve finally gets out of the car, Eddie follows without a word.

It’s not about paying his respects to his father. They hadn’t spoken in years, not since he found out about Eddie and kicked Steve out. A sick part of Steve, deep in the pit of his stomach, is almost glad that Richard Harrington is dead. He feels lighter without the weight of his father’s distant disapproval, can breathe and be himself without feeling guilty for his failings as a son.

But his mother had been the one to call and give him the news. God knows how she tracked down his number, but she cried to him about how sorry she was. How she regretted not standing up to his father when he disowned Steve, how she should’ve been more present in his life, how she was so lost and lonely now that she was a widow and her only son was halfway across the country.

All of it was about her, like all of his mother’s apologies, but Steve pitied her. She was just now learning the lesson he was taught in high school, that popularity was a hollow cage that trapped you while keeping everyone else out, surrounded you with people who could never reach you in the ways that mattered. All of her society friends, her husband’s business partners’ wives, would be present for the funeral mass, dressed to the nines, but not after. They would send flowers but they wouldn’t dirty their shoes for the trek to Richard Harrington’s grave.

So Steve agreed to come, at least for the burial. His parents’ church wouldn’t have appreciated his presence, but the open air of the graveyard feels safe as he and Eddie walk toward his father’s final resting place. There’s something welcoming about the gloomy setting, the overcast sky seeming to blend into the tombstones and monuments, the ground covered with dead leaves now that fall is shifting into winter.

He stands at the back of the crowd and holds Eddie’s hand without feeling everyone’s eyes or hearing the gossipy whispers about Dick’s boy, the queer. He watches the casket be lowered into the ground and tries not to feel relief. When he has to bury his face in Eddie’s shoulder for a minute as the small congregation sings “Amazing Grace,” he accepts the comfort of his partner’s embrace without shame.

It’s only when the few remaining mourners leave and Steve is face to face with his mother for the first time in nearly a decade that tears begin to prickle behind his eyes.

“Do you want me to wait in the car?” Eddie murmurs as they go to meet her on the other side of the open grave.

“Will you stay?” Steve asks, squeezing Eddie’s hand.

The silent squeeze he gets back is enough of an answer.

He squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath, bracing himself as they come to a stop in front of his mother.

Rosemary Harrington covers her mouth with her hands as she takes in the sight of him. “Oh, Steven.”

“Mom,” Steve greets her with an awkward nod.

“Can I…” Her voice trembles. “Would you mind if I—”

Steve steps forward to embrace her without a second thought. She’s a petite woman, and he towers over her despite her sensible black pumps. A lump forms in his throat when he hears her sniffle, delicate and muffled by the lapel of Steve’s coat.

When they pull away, Eddie offers her a bundle of tissues, which she gratefully accepts. She dabs at her eyes, the makeup there long since worn away, and Steve is struck by how much older she looks. He supposes he looks older, too.

“Mom, this is Eddie. My partner,” he introduces with a wave of his arm. He’s proud that his voice doesn’t wobble, even if part of him will always be terrified to say those words.

“Mrs. Harrington.” Eddie shakes her hand solemnly. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Her mouth twitches into a rueful smile. “Please, call me Rosemary. I don’t expect the mother-in-law treatment. You probably need to be more of a mother in the first place to get that.”

Steve interrupts, “I don’t think we need to get into that right now.” He doesn’t want to fall back into the dynamic of constantly having to reassure her that she wasn’t a terrible mother while also having her ignore the things she could change to improve their relationship. He pinches his nose as his frustration builds.

“Maybe we can take you to lunch so you and Steve can catch up?” Eddie suggests in an attempt to break the tension. Rosemary enthusiastically agrees, of course, and she takes Eddie’s arm as he leads her to the car.

Steve pauses at the edge of his father’s grave. His headstone won’t be ready for another week, at least, so there’s no indication as to who is occupying the nondescript casket down there. It could be anyone. Steve pictures a stranger, a man who could’ve been a good father and a faithful husband, laid to rest with love and genuine grief. He pictures the way his life could’ve been different if his dad had been more like that, the way his mom’s life could’ve been different.

When he whispers, “Bye,” that life is what Steve is saying goodbye to. Not Dick Harrington.