#The Score is Thrown Off Track

[talesofourworlds]

You have reached the GHS of Jude Mathis. Please wait for the tone to leave your message.

"Hey. Nice and polite Jude is not here. Please hang up and dial again." Beep.

...Was there a fight happening in the background of that message?

[tender-rosiey]

OK so like, there this challenge, it like the kid tells their mom to shut up, and see what the dad does

And I was wondering if you could do

Toji, Gojo, Geto, Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami

Hopefully it's a good idea thank you!

“MOM SHUT UP!”

— gojo, nanami, sukuna, and geto react to your kid telling you to shut up

a/n: oop, i didn’t notice the challenge part; also, I didn’t write one for toji or choso sorry 🥲

GOJO SATORU:

your 7 year old son —unfortunately or fortunately, you have yet to decide— has inherited a lot of his dad’s traits, including his unbelievably loud mouth that has no filter.

so today, the little fucker, who you’ve carried in your womb for 9 months and have to endure his antics now, told you to shut up when you told him to stop playing and go to sleep.

just as you were about to throw your slipper at his head, your husband takes a hold of your hand. he smiles, “let me take care of this.”

you reluctantly put down your weapon and watch your husband approach your son.

“hey champ,” satoru says and his son glares up at him. satoru’s smile tightens as he thinks of throwing his son out of the window right then and there.

is this how you feel dealing with both of them?

“I heard that you told your mom to shut up; is that true?” satoru asks and somehow his son is finally realizing what he did as his eyes are drowned in guilt.

satoru hears a ‘game over!’ come from his son’s pc and his son frowns, “dad! I lost because of you!”

“maybe if you were nice to your mom then I wouldn’t have to be here, would I?”

“also,” he says, leaning on the chair to see his son’s score, “it looks more like a skill issue on your part.”

the kid is offended as he fills his fist with cursed energy and satoru is just as ready to fight with his son.

soon, they each get a slipper thrown at their heads. satoru falls to the ground whining about how he was only trying to help, but your son looks at you, rubbing his head.

you don’t speak and merely look at him. he gets off his chair and walks to you.

“sorry, mom,” he whispers.

your son, further saddened by your lack of response, hugs you and apologizes again. you feel his tears stain your pants and you sigh as your fingers card through your son’s messy hair.

“just don’t do it again.”

he nods and a small smile takes over your face.

“I still think it’s a skill issue,” your husband says before being taken out by another slipper.

NANAMI KENTO:

“mom just shut up!” your 6 year old daughter says as she hears you ramble over the phone while she was drawing.

your eyes widen and you hang up on your friend before getting up to spank your audacious daughter, “oh I know you ain’t taking to me—“

your husband says your daughter’s name disapprovingly making you stop in your track and her to look up at him with surprise and sadness.

“that’s not something you say to your mother,” he starts off and shakes his head, his disappointment basically radiating at this point, “you have to be respectful to her and appreciate her.”

your daughter looks at the ground as tears swell up in her eyes.

kento continues, “and if you were bothered by the noise,” he places his hand on her head and his voice softens, “then you should’ve asked politely if your mom can talk in a lower voice or you could’ve moved rooms, right?”

she nods, trembling and crying silently.

she looks at you, before running to you and jumping into your arms and apologizing repeatedly for what she did and that she would be a good girl from now on.

you cradle her in your embrace and pat her back to calm her down.

your husband approaches you both and presses a kiss on your forehead and hers. kento whispers in your ear as he looks at his daughter, “she dodged a bullet, huh love?”

you roll your eyes and shove him lightly and he merely presses a kiss to your shoulder with a smile.

for some reason, your daughter places her hand on his face and gently pushes him away.

“mommy is mine,” she softly says and hopes her father is not bothered by her claim.

he merely furrows his eyebrows, “but she is my wife.”

his daughter smiles mischievously and shrugs and nanami realizes just how much a of a devil his sweet daughter can be.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the son of ryomen sukuna, your son has been raised to be befitting of the title of a king and that includes his speech mannerism that he picked from his dad.

somehow, that further irritates you as your son says, “silence, mother!”

it reminds you of a certain king of curses who says, “silence, woman.”

however, the king of curses does not escape your wrath when he says those words and neither will your son.

“oho? is ‘silence’ something you say to your mother, s/n?” you inquire and your son narrows his eyes in an attempt to intimidate you, but it only causes your cursed energy to increase which makes the boy gulp slightly.

your husband enters the room and is confused by the display: your son looking at you scared and you looking close to smacking the hell out of the kid, “what’s the matter?”

you look at sukuna, “oh I don’t know; why don’t you tell him s/n?”

your son looks at you then at his dad. “…I told mother to be silent,” he says shamefully.

your husband barks out a laugh but is quickly punched in the stomach by you. he falls to the ground and glares at you, “why you!” he grumbles.

“sukuna-sama, is telling your mother to be silent a good thing?” you emphasize the honorific and your husband stands up and shakes his head.

“no,” he grumbles and you nod, looking at your son.

your son frowns and walks to you then bows slightly, “apologies mother, it’s my mistake.”

you sigh and gently flick his forehead, “I am your mother; don’t bow to me silly.”

your son looks up to you, surprised and smiles, nodding before hugging you.

meanwhile, sukuna is there, complaining about how you dared to punch the king of curses.

GETO SUGURU:

your 5 year old daughter had told you to shut up while she was watching her favorite show and you have started ignoring her ever since.

whenever she would try to talk to you, you would turn away from her and walk away. she didn’t know or rather realize what she did wrong so she went to her daddy to ask for help.

“daddy, I don’t know why mommy is ignoring me!” she tells him seriously and he looks at her nodding while munching on his cereal.

“did you do anything wrong that made mommy mad?” he asks and smiles at how she scratches her head as she thinks. after a while, she shakes her head clueless.

he hums before looking at her, “well, a little birdie told me that you told her to shut up; is that true?”

she tilts her head, “how did the birdie know?”

“I will tell you later, but what’s important now: is it a good thing to tell mommy to shut up?” he inquires, raising and eyebrow at his daughter who plays with the hem of her shirt as she mumbles a small ‘no…’

“there you go, now you know why mommy won’t talk to you,” he winks, “now go apologize; good people apologize when they do something wrong, right?”

she nods with a small smile and he ruffles her hair, “good girl.”

later on, after everything is resolved, she is nestled in your lap and suguru is beside you with his arm around you as she asks, “daddy, how did the little birdie know?”

he smiles and he doesn’t tell her that his cute wife, you, was huffing about how rude her daughter can be and how he had to hug her and pepper her with kisses to calm her down.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will suplex you

[sushirrrry]

would love to see a blurb about best friend harry thinking yn’s boyfriend doesn’t deserve her and accidentally confesses his feelings for her

bound a harry styles one-shot blurb; 7.2k words cw: fluff fluff and more fluff

When Harry had booked this trip, there were three things that he was looking forward to.

One of them was the open bar that their friends—the new Mr. and Mrs. Moxley—would be providing to them, which would include a couple gin and tonics too many.

The second was the beachfront room that he had scored from the credit card points he had expertly racked up the past few months, especially for this trip to Barcelona for his friend’s wedding. He thought he had scored a pretty good deal.

The third was seeing Cassidy for a weekend straight.

While the two of them lived in the same city, they were walking different paths at the moment, which had never been them. There were nights that they met for dinner, almost like nothing had changed. But Harry lived in South London; he had been working long nights in the museum, Cassidy was on the opposite side of the city working at her accounting position she had taken recently.

Both hadn’t had each other’s undivided attention in quite some time, and Harry was looking forward to the possibility of having that again. The kind of attention, the kind of laughs and indescribable joy that they had both needed—he was sure of it.

If there was one thing that he knew about Cass, it was that she was sprinting on the plane to get the vacation she had been looking forward to.

Plus, neither of them had a plus-one this time around.

That meant that it was just the two of them, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk every time he thought of it. Undivided attention.

Harry had thrown on a linen suit for the welcome party; the night before the wedding. He had started to unpack his room, trying to pass the time before he knew that Cass would arrive. Once he heard a buzzing on his phone, his head lifted from looking down into his suitcase and towards the device on the duvet.

If there was one thing Harry was going to do on his vacation, it was unpack the entirety of his suitcase before doing anything else.

iddy: smyf

The small acronym ‘show me your fit’ made him smile before he noticed a few more texts rolling in, the dots precursing them on the phone.

iddy: for tonight, not right now. I should have clarified. Please don’t send a pic of your penis

iddy: someone has to make sure I’m not overdressed. How do you dress for a pre-wedding dinner

The panic over the texts was exactly how Harry knew Cassidy; she worried over small things but overlooked the bigger picture. It was a small, miniscule flaw, really.

But before he’s able to even move towards the large mirror in his bathroom, his phone vibrates again. His attention is grabbed by the way that his eyes move over the image that comes in, rather than the words he had been reading from her.

And something about it made him stop in his tracks on his own way to show her what he had looked like.

Something about the way that she held the phone up to the mirror, giving a small pout—a playful one, as if unsure of herself. The way that the wisps of her hair were around her face, but the rest was pulled back by a clip—he was certain of it. She didn’t like having her hair down if she could help it.

Harry swallowed in the comfort of the room, almost like he was trying to keep himself from getting caught in the moment, even when no one was around. His eyes flew over the soft baby blue of the dress, the way that it dipped down, just a bit.

The way that the color danced over her tanned skin; maybe even a bit red from the sun he was certain that she had taken apart in as soon as they hopped off the plane. Harry knew that she bathed in the sun whenever it came out in London; she wouldn’t have gotten burned there, though.

There were dainty cream flower details—maybe stitching, even—on the dress as he zoomed in to get a better look at it.

His thumb cruised over the message, writing out a message before he pressed send.

Harry: good thing you told me not to send you a pic of my penis! Was about to!

Harry: also, you look beautiful, c

He frowned when she sent another message.

iddy: ok but am I overdressed

Harry: no, see

Harry held his phone up to the mirror as she had done to him—as they had done for one another many times before. But something about the way he looked in it bothered him for a moment. He fixed his hair, running his hand through it, almost to make sure that it looked much better than usual. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit before he sent the picture through to her.

The cream suit was opened, a white shirt settled underneath it. He wore a pair of his favorite white sneakers that fit like a glove, even a bit scuffed—but he felt that that balanced the outfit.

When he sent the photo, he waited a moment for Cass to send something back. But it felt like the longer he stared, the more pressure he felt to not see the grey dots coming back on the screen.

He bit the inside of his lip, waiting patiently before he locked the phone and slid it down into his pocket.

Instead of worrying about that, Harry checked his watch to see that it was closing in on six-thirty– which meant that he was fashionably late to the six o’clock time for the dinner.

He spritzed a bit more cologne, checked his teeth in the mirror, and pushed the bunches of curls off of his forehead that he meant to get cleaned up before coming on this trip but simply losing track of time.

He grabbed his wallet– hoping to not lose it or need it– and walked out of the hotel room door, down towards the lobby where he figured everyone would be gathering. He figured he'd take the long way, walking through some groups of people until he saw a grand staircase to lead down into the lobby area.

Harry figured that he would walk that way, down towards the main area where some familiar faces had collected for cocktail hour and drinks. His eyes maneuvered around, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Cass in any capacity.

Walking down the stairs, he saw Mari and Logan– the bride and groom– and greeted both of them accordingly. Mari and Harry had worked together back at uni, so they had become close friends. There may have been a night or two when Harry and Mari actually went home together, but they chalked that up to some consensual stress release.

When she started dating Logan, they started to hang around everyone more– which then included Cassidy. They would all go out together to the pubs after classes and had become really great friends since then. It was no surprise that this kind of event would bring them all together again.

“Have you guys seen Cass yet?” Harry asked, looking around. “I haven't seen here since she got here. She texted me but didn't get a response.”

Mari looked at him a bit suspiciously before turning to Logan for a moment. “Didn't you guys RSVP together?”

Harry looked up at her for a moment, shaking his head.

“No– I mean, no, I didn't respond with her name or anything. Did she do that for me?” He had thought that he marked one salmon meal and that was it.

Mari bit her lip as she blinked at him a few times. “No, but she RSPV’d a plus one, I think. Or she said something a few months ago– it's a bit fuzzy, but she told me she was coming with someone else. I– I mean, I was certain it would be you.”

Harry’s smile faltered just a bit before he shook his head, the hands in his pockets had turned to fists as he turned to look around him. Wondering if he'd lay eyes on her or watch her holding hands with another guy.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen that before, but the excitement of seeing her for the first time in a while was slowly dwindling before he turned his head for what felt like the millionth time looking for her.

But this time, his vision landed on her. The rosy colored glasses that he saw her threw was starting to dim as the picture got a bit blurry.

The baby blue dress that fell just below her knees, the dip in the front. The silky material hung on her body, but his eyes stood on the hand that hand firmly on her waist as if to keep her tucked into him.

His greatest fears becoming reality as he looked up the girl giggling at a probable reasonable remark.

Cassidy took a break from her schoolgirl giggling to see Mari and Logan standing there, looking at her and the person practically wrapped around her. But when looked up to see that Harry had also been standing right there, a sudden course of fear trembled through her.

Fear was a strong word; worry was more like it.

She had known how Harry was, which is why she kept this a secret from him. Now, he was forced to get to know her boyfriend of three months because they were here on their own accord for a weekend. They would spend it together, having each other in their lives for a weekend. That's what he had requested, and what she could agree to.

He had promised her that– even if he hadn't realized that had included this moment right here, yet.

“Hi, guys!” Cass put on her smile, a gorgeous one that pushed the dimples on her chin forward. “Mari, you look so beautiful!”

The girls wove into a hug, Harry standing and staring at the man who had let Cassidy go– looking a bit as if he was uncomfortable at letting someone else touch her. His eyes stayed on them as Cassidy pulled back and moved onto Logan, congratulating them on the whole marriage thing.

It was like she was taking a moment before she would get to him. She looked at Mari’s ring, gushing about how beautiful it was and she beautiful she looked.

Her eyes reached Harry’s then, a sheepish smile on her face before she pushed her arms out to wrap her arms around him, one over his shoulder and the other around his ribs.

“It's so good to see you.” She commented; he wanted to say something back but the comfort of her made his face retreat into the slot of her shoulder and neck.

When they pulled away, he got a real look at her and gave her the smile she had been waiting to see.

“So glad you're here.” He told her before feeling like a blush had intermittently taken its place in his cheeks.

Their connection had faded a moment before she paused; she took a breath and stepped back before remembering the man who stood behind them.

“Guys, this is–“ She looked up at him, “This is Dalton. We've been seeing each other for a few months, and just thought it would be so good to introduce him here since we're all here.”

Harry had to try to remember to release the fists in his pocket before he would go to shake his hand.

“Dalton, this is Mari and Logan– the bride and groom,” She introduced, letting him shake their hands and give their respective hello’s, followed by congratulations and thanks. But then she turned to Harry, Dalton’s composure changing a moment before he watched Harry’s change too.

Cassidy felt small between them as she stares at the way they faced one another.

“Uh, Dalton, this is my friend, Harry. Harry, this is Dalton.”

Harry lets one of the sides of his face turn up in a smile before he reaches out to be the better person. “Best friend, actually. Nice to meet you.”

Cassidy looks at Harry, almost giving him a really?

The grip of the man’s hands together feels tense as Dalton gives him a courtesy, “Nice to meet you, too.”

As Cassidy watches the interaction, she notices that the way that Harry stands is taller and fuller—like he’s trying to prove to Dalton that he’s bigger, he’s better—that he could end him in a moment’s notice, if need be. She holds onto Dalton’s arm, practically pulling the man from his trance with trying to overthrow Harry’s dominance.

“Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She offers, giving Harry another grin before Cassidy and Dalton makes their way over to the bar area.

Harry watches tentatively before he notices that Logan and Mari are also a bit in shock by the interaction and the couth that Cassidy had to bring someone into this sacred space, once again. Harry knew how Cassidy felt most days about herself—she looked for the satisfaction of a partner, the confidence boost that having someone on her arm could bring her.

It was reassuring to Harry to think that she could go into a room by herself; owning the space and knowing who she was. That was what he was hoping for in this interaction, but instead, she had to enter with someone else.

And with that, came the idea that the men that Cassidy picked always had a knack for making her the jealous type. Harry could always tell that her reactions became much more aggressive, her body language becoming possessive.

Cassidy wanted to feel like she was the most special girl in the world, and somehow, Harry was always left picking up the pieces of her tortured, stomped on heart after the last guy had decided that she wasn’t good enough. What the men in Cass’ life failed to see, was that her heart was always borrowed, on loan. It was never theirs to keep, because they never nurtured it or regarded it in any sense.

Her kindness had been taken from granted, her will to give was always overused and spent.

Harry knew that his love for Cassidy ran deeper than the deepest oceans, and wider than the largest forests, but something inside of him knew that they were better off as friends. Maybe it was because she was smart, and he figured she would have figured it out by now; the way he looked at her overruled the way he would ogle art painted on canvas, or sculptures tall and mighty.

He was always there with a rose and a smile, standing outside her door after the last guy packed his belongings and left for good.

It was why watching her happy, standing by the bar without a care in the world broke his heart into a million pieces. He knew that he was always there to rescue her, and he could see by the way that the guy stood away from her—maybe even trying to get a glimpse of the other women around him. But Cassidy’s naivety kept her eyes locked on the man instead, her irises shaped like hearts.

Mari and Logan had started a new conversation with another few people, Harry stood with his hands in his pockets as he tried to figure out a course of action. He had figured that the night would be wasted away—quite literally and figuratively—with Cassidy by his side, but now he felt more alone than he had before.

A man with champagne on a tray walked by, and Harry grabbed two flutes. One for each hand. He downed one quickly before he made his way back to the bar where the two of them had been standing before setting one of the glasses down and keeping the other before he noticed that Cassidy had grabbed a glass of red wine—Cab Sav, most likely.

The man—Dalton—held a short, rocks-glass that just had something clear in it, possibly straight vodka, if he was brave.

“So, you really didn’t bring anyone? Haven’t met anyone yet? You’ve usually grabbed a few asses by now,” Cassidy spoke out, moving around Dalton to get closer to Harry. He turned his attention back to her, shaking his head a few times.

“No—I mean, I thought we were just going to hang out. I didn’t know you were bringing someone.” Harry’s eyes flicked up towards Dalton’s before he watched Cassidy bite her lip. The red on her lips had either been from the stain of the wine or the way she bit on her lip; either way, Harry found it to be enticing enough to stare for a beat too long.

“I—I don’t know, I just assumed you would have brought someone with you. Weren’t you seeing someone?”

Harry took a sip from the flute, shrugging casually, “Yeah. But not like, exclusively.”

Cassidy nodded a few times, raising her brows, “Is it ever exclusive with you?”

There was a teasing tone in her voice, but the way that her eyes lifted to investigate his own only made his stomach drop at the intention. Harry felt an incredible sting through his chest as he cleared his throat, almost to wash away the sensitivity that he felt around his heart.

He went to speak, but his lips didn’t seem to let any words leave. Instead, the bartender interrupted as Harry realized that there may have been a small line forming behind them.

Harry, Cassidy, and Dalton moved to the side a bit—all three having their drinks in their hands before they found themselves in a circle of silence. Each taking sips of their drinks before Dalton seemed to make a move of conversation towards Harry, nodding at him.

“So, what do you do for a living, Harry?” He licked over his lips, a tight smile painted on his face before Harry could respond.

“I’m—uh, I’m an art curator. At a small art gallery in London.”

Cassidy chimed in, “Harry has great taste, actually. He’s put together some really great art expos and exhibits.”

“Hm,” Dalton hummed, “Where is the gallery? My parents host charity galas, and we are on the board at the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery.” He chuckles a bit, “I assume you’re not curating there.”

Harry feels the way that his jaw tightens, almost an innate reaction to the way that the man puts him down. Harry pushes his shoulders back before lifting his head. Cassidy looks to Dalton, speaking on Harry’s behalf.

“N-No, it’s—” But she’s interrupted when Harry speaks, then.

“It’s neither of those, no. It’s a bit more modern, helping to lift unknown artists who are looking to make their way into the conversation, which I think it’s very important. Especially now, our worldview is so mirrored by adding such high value to art that never needed it to begin with—art shouldn’t have value like that, in my opinion.” He felt that his tongue had a bit of venom on it when he took a larger sip of the champagne, practically downing that one, as well.

Dalton nodded. “I see. Well, I assume that amateur art wouldn’t have a value like Michelangelo or Vermeer, would they? But I think it’s presumptuous to say that art doesn’t have value. Everything has a price.”

Cassidy took in a breath before she took a large sip of wine; her eyes went to Harry who almost seemed like he would explode at any moment.

“Most things don’t have a price. Nothing has a price, it’s all relative. We, as a society, added price so people of higher status could act like they were better than other people, when it was all a façade to just make them look a bit fancier with their pretty goldleaf vases and Vermeer’s. A Vermeer painting doesn’t hold value to me, anyways.”

Dalton nodded a few times, giving a mock toast to the man in front of him, before he looked down at Cassidy.

“Yeah, that’s quite obvious. Class isn’t a given, it’s inherited. You should see the types of people that try to get their hands on these gala tickets, as if it’s some sort of carnival they can just attend. Half of them don’t have two quid to rub together, and it’s just embarrassing at that point.”

Harry took a step forward before Cassidy realized that his expression meant one of anger. Her arm pushed him back a bit before Dalton recognized the move and his eyes held a gentle smirk of cockiness.

It sat in Cassidy’s throat as she felt the deflation of her confidence. The weekend she had been looking forward to being was diminished quick before her eyes, and all she could do was count on the glass of wine that hadn’t even really been filled halfway.

“What he means is, being exclusive is an honor, and you of all people should know that, I’m sure.” Her eyes drive up to him, and Harry looks at her with that same feeling of hurt that he had felt moments ago by the bar. Harry’s lips parted as he looked at her and felt the subtle sting of her accusation.

Whether or not she meant it as a jab, he wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

“Excuse me, Cassidy,” Dalton chuckles with a hint of a mocking tone, “I can speak for myself, darling. No need to interrupt.”

In just that moment, Harry felt himself push against Cassidy’s arm that had been subtly holding him back with no force other than the small barrier of her shoulder. The small push sent Cassidy off balance, which in turn allowed the slosh of wine to knock around her glass.

“And who are you to talk to her like that?” Harry questioned; his eyes now centered on Dalton as his brow knit together. “Fuck off with that, will you?”

“Bloody hell,” Cassidy gasped out, her eyes dropping to the small amount of wine that covered the hardwood floor underneath them—small droplets of the red wine were coating the bottom of her dress; only enough for her to notice, really, but her eyes narrowed at the floor.

Harry and Dalton both turned to her then, Harry’s eyes dropping to the way that she held her dress up to get a bit of a better glimpse of the stain.

“Oh, fuck, Cass. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that. Hey, I’ll clean it up—” Harry moves towards her, his hand holding at her bicep to help keep her balance.

“Good work, mate.” Dalton eyed Harry, who felt the need to clench his fists again. He did so rather quickly, trying to get the feeling of anger to subside for the moment so that he could focus on Cassidy in the moment.

“It’s fine—really, I just want to make sure it doesn’t stain. I—let me go back to my room, I think I have a stain stick.” She lifts her head to look at before she starts to move out of the small space.

“Let me help,” Harry offers, starting to follow behind her. It feels like an opportunity to take—the two of them alone for just a moment so that he can gauge how she’s really feeling about Dalton and this whole situation. The first few minutes of him have Harry already written off, and he knows the type of person she needs to be with should never be one to talk over her.

“No—Harry, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” She says quickly before she feels Dalton’s hand on her, as if to help guide her.

“I can help, darling.” He tells her, “Don’t worry about it. We can buy you a new one, if it’s too bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes and practically gags at the way he speaks to her. As if Cassidy couldn’t buy her own, for herself. He watches as he feels that Cassidy may be a bit overwhelmed by the two of them staring at her, knowing that they’re both fighting for her attention and affection.

The look on her face suggests as such before she look at Harry and blinks a few times, noticing that he had started to back off a bit. Not that he really wanted to, but knowing her, she didn’t want all the attention on her at once.

Harry downed the rest of the champagne, leaving the flute on a small table before Cassidy knit her brows and shook her head. “Actually, Harry— can you help? Your mum’s stain trick always seems to work. I can’t remember, though.”

His eyes float to Dalton who seems a bit taken aback by her push to have Harry go up to her room with her instead.

Harry nods a few times, watching as Dalton goes to speak, but Cassidy reassures him. “I’ll be right back, okay? We won’t be long.” She hands the man her wine glass, only a quarter full now, as most of it had landed on the sandy wood floors.

It’s then that the two of them take off towards the elevator. Cassidy has a bit of a stomp in her step, almost like she’s making sure that her and Harry aren’t in direct line so he can’t speak to her. The fits of anger that bubble in her chest is unexplained as she goes to press the elevator button to go upwards. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stares at the way that the light changes to go upwards.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Cassidy speaks out, a bit quietly as if to just think her thoughts—not say them outwardly.

“C’mon, Cass, he's got the ego of a narcissist and the smile of a Kennedy, you really think a guy like this could be the love of your life? Honestly.” Harry hounded her as they entered the elevator. He reached for the button, but Cassidy was already there, pressing three.

“That's not fair, Harry, you don't know him.” She settled against the wall as she stared at the ceiling, feeling the movement before she held onto the railing behind her. “He’s extremely smart, he’s confident—he knows what he wants. Which I think you and him may not agree on.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment before he looked back at her, knowing she wouldn’t look at him—but knowing that he had to say the words to her.

“But I know you.”

Cassidy shakes her head as if she’d heard that from him before. Something about the mixture of the two men felt familiar with many of the guys she had brought home, or brought to meet Harry, really. She couldn’t figure out if he just couldn’t understand that she was dating this guy—not just sleeping with him. They were forming a connection, but maybe Harry didn’t understand that.

Harry didn’t understand the concept of falling in love was possible, probably because she had never seen that happening. She had never seen Harry madly in love with someone; never seen his heart broken before. She didn’t know if that was a red flag or if that was a person choice that he didn’t allow for himself.

Either way, she wasn’t going to let him ruin her chances at finding it—no matter what his personal opinions were.

“So, why are you putting me through this? C’mon, no one is ever good enough for you. I never said I was going to marry the guy!”

The shuffle of them towards the door to the hotel room increases as Cassidy throws the key against the electronic pad to open the door. Harry follows in quickly behind as she throws her shoes off. Harry makes sure to avoid tripping and falling over them but knows diligently that she takes her shoes off every time she walks through her door—without fail.

He knew that.

“But why waste your time if you won't spend your life with him?” Harry questions, turning on the light in the foyer of the small room that Cassidy and Dalton were sharing. Harry’s eyes tried not to wander as he saw the unfamiliarity of the dark navy suitcase on the floor next to the TV.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t,” Cass answers a bit with a huff as she rustles through her own suitcase to try to find the detergent stick, she had forgotten to throw in her bag, “All I said was I wasn't sure if I would, maybe I will! Also, I can throw that question right back at you, Mr. One-and-Done.”

Harry stands with his hands in his pockets as he knits his brows together at her answer.

“I just don’t think he’s the one, Cass. That’s all I said. You don’t have to insult me, too.”

“No, Harry, that’s not all you said,” She retorts, “You rolled your eyes, you were a bit disrespectful, you—you started like,” She scrunches her nose when she comes back with the detergent stick in his hand as she sits on the edge of the bed. “You were like puffing your chest at him or something—like you were trying to prove a point. Just because he doesn’t share the same opinion as you, doesn’t mean he’s wrong, you know?”

Harry pursed his lips as she had walked by him, feeling that her entrance into the room gave him permission to follow. He didn’t want to pry into her life if he wasn’t invited to.

“I was not puffing my chest at him, that’s ridiculous.”

He took a seat next to her on the bed as she pulled the long dress up just to her knee to try and rub the stain stick over the red wine stain before she dropped the fabric in her lap.

“Yes, you were,” She tells him, “You do that whenever a guy gets too close, like you’re trying to scare them off or something, and it’s bullshit because you don’t even give them a chance.”

“Why would I give them a chance when I can obviously tell that they’re not good for you?”

Cassidy dropped the dress fabric in her lap as she sighed a bit louder, very obviously done with the back and forth where no one would win. Her head turned towards Harry, sitting next to her now. The way that her throat tightened when their eyes met almost immediately threatened her composure.

“You never give them a chance, Harry,” She tells him with honesty in her tone; wanting him to listen to her like he had never listened before. She knew that he was hard-headed, stubborn to say the least. But she knew that when he really knew she was serious, he would back down. “I just want to make this work, okay? He’s a good guy—I promise, he is. And he would make my life comfortable. He’s looking for a wife, a family. He’s looking to settle down. We’re thirty, Harry—I want to have these commitments, even if you don’t.”

“I don’t doubt he’s a good guy, Cass—really, I—” He stops himself as he thinks of all the people he’s made promise’s too over the years, over various occasions, and conversations that he would think back to whenever he caught a glimpse of the green eyes that laid on his now.

Her mum, Barbara. Her younger brother, Antonio. Her best girlfriend from uni, Annabelle.

But her dad, Tony, was the most important for him to honor—considering he knew that he left the planet wanting Cassidy to be in the best hands; he had gotten confirmation from Harry in their last conversation that he would never let someone hurt her. And was loved, there was a guarantee that she would be loved and cherished until the end of time.

There were people in her life that had always looked at Harry as a guide, whether they meant anything by it, but they knew that Harry knew Cassidy better than anyone in the entire world. He had known every detail of her life for the twenty-some years that they had been the best of friends.

But it had always just been there– the best of friends. Saying anything different could change the whole dynamic of what that was.

“What is it? Why do you always do this to me?”

“Why do I always do this to you?” Harry questioned, setting Cassidy back a bit. She stared at him before she felt the way that their connection seemed to have a sense of distance between them. “Cassy, I thought we were going to have a weekend just the two of us. Just like we had been talking about—you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long, we haven’t spent any time together recently. You’re right—we’re thirty now. Life is going to change, but I wanted to have at least one more time where it would just be the two of us to spend laughing and making fun of people like Walton.”

Cassidy fought so hard to not smile at the name Harry gave her date, “Fuck off, you know it’s Dalton.”

“Cass, it doesn’t matter what his name is.” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes, “What matters is that you always do this to me. You always insert this jackass as if to push him in my face and practically tease me with it. And what’s with all the jokes about me being exclusive?”

Cassidy feels her shoulders deflate, her eyes batting a few times before she shakes her head. “I just want you to find the right person, too, and maybe that would make you back from me and my choices just a bit. You think that I would treat a girl you dated like that? You think I would sit there and puff out my chest and try to make my boobs look bigger to make you look at me instead of her?”

Harry shrugs. “If you were jealous enough, I’d hope you would.” He goes to say something else but quickly shakes his head as if to not speak too much.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy tells him, her eyes giving a small up and down motion as she realizes how much space was between them now.

Harry stands up, his hands moving through his hair in a frustrated motion before he goes to stand in front of her at the end of the bed. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you see it? Just because I’m the one with the artistic eye doesn’t mean that I’m the only one who can see art, Cass. You know when we go to the galleries in new cities we travel to, and I really make you look at them? You glance at them and are like, ‘that’s a nice one’ or ‘that’s pretty’. No, I really want you to look at it—and then sometimes it makes you emotional because you can really see the way that the artist has manipulated his wrists to make the kinds of strokes that the brushwork is, or the way that the divot in the sculpture is supposed to look like it’s a flaw, but it’s intentional? And that what you didn’t see before, because you were just glancing, is really there all the time?”

Cassidy looked at Harry who was standing in front of her, his eyebrows knit and his face practically begging for her to see him. He’s begging her to recognize this game that he had been playing wasn’t a game at all, it was just a matter of time. It was a matter of wanting her to see what they could be so that he didn’t have to spell it out.

He didn’t want to push her, but he wanted her to see it for herself. First and foremost, he wanted her to want it as much as he had.

“All I’m seeing is that you’re painting me out to be the bad guy here. All you do cycle through girls like a manic—you’re sleeping with one, you’re stringing one along. You think that’s supposed to entice me?” She asks quaintly, a bit quietly as she shakes her head, looking at Harry who seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he takes in a deep breath to try and get to a level of calmness that fits his demeaner.  

“No, Cass! I just wanted you to see how in love with you I am!” The words that leave his mouth are practically begging, but they leave a sour silence in the room as Cassidy is taken by the tone Harry’s voice; his hands resting on his hips as he finishes the pacing he had been doing.

“Cassidy,” Harry swallowed down the lump that had been sitting in his throat, his voice practically faltering as he shook his head, trying so badly to get through to the words he had been looking for. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. They were never there to stay, okay? That’s why I didn’t look for exclusivity— it was never theirs. I was saving every ounce of my love and my time and my affection for you, and you never reached out to take any of it.”

Her silence hits her for a moment as she sits with her wine-stained dress in her lap on the white, linen sheets before she watches the man in front of her professing all the love and needs to her. She doesn’t feel like she can speak, but her eyes drift down to her lap as she feels all the sudden unable to find the words at all.

“Look—I’m sorry, I—I just can’t see you being with someone like this. And it physically hurts me to see you heartbroken when I know,” Harry pulls his lips into his mouth as he puts his hands on his hips, “I know that guy is going to fucking annihilate you. You’re going to fall in love with him, and he’s going to take it all and run with it. And there I’ll be, standing there, waiting for you to realize what’s been waiting for you this entire time. It’s just bound to happen.”

Cassidy sits with her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip as she feels the threatening of tears to spill from her eyes. She doesn’t understand the overwhelming feeling of the man’s words as she shakes her head, a sad chuckle leaving her throat as she looks up at him.

“He ordered me a pinot noir tonight,” She nods, “Told me that it was the best wine he’d ever had before.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he doesn’t know that you exclusively drink Cab Sav from a box, no matter what, unless you’re celebrating something big, then it’s a discounted bottle of Dom Perignon from that Lombardi’s store down from your flat,” Harry tells her with a scoff, almost like it had been a test to prove that he knew her better than anyone in the world did.

And Cassidy knew that he did, but the validation that he showed only made her tear fall with the knowledge that he didn’t just listen—he remembered, he supplied this vision of her and this want for her that didn’t come with rules or expectations.

Harry just saw her.

And in a world where you want to be seen, Cassidy just fought to be glanced at. She fought for the spot in someone’s eye, but when she thought that Harry only had eyes for art, she couldn’t have imagined what he had seen in her this entire time.

“Yeah,” Cass nodded, “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Harry shook his head, looking at the ground as he started to feeling heaps of embarrassment but knowing that the awkward silence in the room was there to stay for a few more minutes at least. “I’d never order you a fucking pinot noir.”

Cassidy nods a few more times before she looks at the stains on the dress, knowing that it’s stained for good. That the stain stick won’t work anymore but knowing that it’s sometimes okay to have something marked, in the case that you wanted it to stick around forever.

Her heart felt like it had been borrowed and bruised but watching as Harry stared down at her only made it flutter as if trying to come back from the dead.

There were three things that Cassidy had been looking forward to this week—when she had originally booked the trip, that is.

One of them was to have a large glass of Cab Sav and sit on the balcony with Harry and laugh at the way that the people were pummeled by the waves; they always got too brave and then would be smashed down by the force of the water.

The second was to be able to dance. The dancing at the weddings always made her feel like she had been letting go of every ounce of worry and detrimental work email that she had received since the last time she was dancing at a wedding. It usually felt like a cleanse.

The third was to watch people fall in love. To watch people and see that their forever was right in front of their eyes and to confirm every moment of it with vows and unspeakable glances that felt like a bound contractual agreement.

As Cassidy stood in front of Harry now, her dress a mess of stain and wet, detergent marks, her eyes searched his for a moment before she looked up at him, with a different set of eyes, this time.

They were colored in a way that felt extraordinarily bright, like she had woken up from the darkest slumber. The mask of uncertainty was laying on the floor as she felt his hands lift her jaw to look at him, his feet taking a step forward.

“I think they say this at weddings,” He squinted at her, the line of a smirk coating his face as he kept his words quiet. Her hand moved up to hold his wrist as she bit on her lip softly, feeling the way that their lips tried to find one another—slow, encapsulated by an intense amount of tension, “’Speak now, or forever hold your peace’?”

The silence between them spoke for itself.

Harry pulled her forward, not rushed, but certainly not waiting a second longer. His lips attached to hers in a way that felt every single day of the last twenty years; the kiss that could have lasted the rest of his life without a doubt in his mind.

It was what was bound to happen all along; there just had to be a few frogs before the real prince revealed himself.

Well, that’s what Harry told himself, anyways. Cassidy would just roll her eyes, but knew that at the end of the day, it had always been him.

Exclusively him.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt5

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: and its a double update!!! im showcasing a lot of side characters that will eventually be a huuuuge part of the plot (winks). also the brewing tension. let me know what you folks think about this

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @cristianovettel @callsignwidow @gothicwidowsworld

2010, Istanbul Park

The necklace sits heavy on Y/N's neck. She had been fiddling with it the whole morning. There was something about the internal and unspoken pressure happening in the Red Bull garage ever since both of their drivers tied their points for the championship. She have heard more conversations here and there about who would Red Bull side with, their older driver or the rookie.

It was very stressful for Y/N to spend time with the two drivers involved with the discussions.

"Nervous?" Sebastian noticed.

"Can't help it" she gave a weak smile.

"For me or for Mark?"

Y/N had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. As if she hasn't had enough of this whole which driver would you pick to side on. She just gestured that her lips are sealed meaning that she won't take anyone's side.

"Stop trying to get my sister on your side" Mark apparently overheard the conversation "Blood runs thicker than water, am i right sis?"

"I'm not gonna comment on that"

"See what you are doing to my sister, you are ruining this family Seb" Mark overdramatically reacts

"Your sister is my bestfriend, get over it" Sebastian rebutted.

Bestfriend.

And just like that, there was a pang in Y/N's heart. Maybe another factor of the heavy feeling is that she has been doing her best to bury her feelings for Sebastian. But after the whole Monaco pre-birthday thing, every effort that she has to bury her feelings is thrown out of the window. She was hopelessly inlove with the man and Sebastian was very blind about it.

"Just have a good race, okay?"she reminded the two.

"I think we will score some good points today" Sebastian confidently stated.

"That's the fighting spirit" Mark cheered on.

It was moments like this that Y/N was reminded that the two Red Bull drivers are not fighting each other as the team pictured them to be. They may showcase competitiveness during the races but that's just normal. Outside the track, the two share a very friendly atmosphere with each other.

Soon, the two set off to go their respective cars. Y/N watched the race outside of the driver's room for a change. Ever since, she started to hear the gossiping of the Red Bull crew about Seb and Mark, she opted to be more around them. She wanted to know what they are saying to warn the drivers or make a possible plan on how to resolve if ever the situation escalates.

The race started out well with Mark leading comfortably. Sebastian was behind and Lewis was next. It was going really well for Mark and if Y/N have to say it then he might win another race. Sebastian, on the other hand, has been challenged by the two McLarens of Hamilton and Button.

Then it happened all so quickly.

Y/N let out a gasp as the two Red Bull drivers crashed with each other. One was sent down to the gravel while the other managed to push back to the track. Y/N was too focused that she didn't notice that the cameras were pointed at her.

'Y/N Webber

Mark Webber's sister and assistant, Sebastian Vettel's bestfriend.'

The whole garage was in shambles as the radio messages from Sebastian sounds really angry. The amount of swear words in the radio was a stark difference from the jolly Sebastian that she was speaking to a couple of minutes ago. Y/N looked worriedly as Sebastian goes to the stewards.

"It was Vettel's fault"

"No, Mark Webber wasn't looking and giving him space"

"That's stupid, it was clearly Sebastian Vettel's fault"

Watching the replays, Y/N hates to admit it but this one is on Sebastian. She could hear the discussion even becoming more rampant as Sebastian reaches the garage.

A permanent scowl graces his face as he talks to Helmut and Christian about the incident that occurred. Y/N followed to check up on him and she can't help but overhear the conversation.

"That was not right, this shouldn't have happened" Christian lectures "It will cost us a lot of points with the two McLaren looking for two podium finish today"

"Don't look and point fingers at me, I'm not the only one who crashed" Sebastian clearly not thinking his words through.

"Sebastian this should never happen again, understood?" Christian firmly ordered

"But it isn't right to blame Sebastian, the boy is right there were two of them there" Helmut comes to the defense of Sebastian "It was clear that Mark did not make way for him resulting to the crash"

Y/N felt herself getting red. It was clear as a day that the crash was not caused by Mark. It was getting clearer for her that someone has been playing favorites.

"See, you better have word with Mark" Sebastian said.

"Unbelievable" Y/N muttered.

She was taught that if she couldn't say anything good then she probably shouldn't say anything at all so she walks away. She decided not to show herself even after Mark got a podium finish.

Her sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed but Sebastian just let her be.

2010, Silverstone Circuit

Things at Red Bull garage has gone from bad to worse. It was difficult now to hang out with Mark or Sebastian as the two drivers have intended everything to be a competition. Y/N didn't want to see any part of this which is why she is currently doing babysitting duties at Mercedes.

It was a weird set-up seeing how one of Red Bull's employee is staying at the pristine white facility of Mercedes—she sticks out like a sore thumb. But Mick Schumacher only wants Y/N to be with him as he watches his father race. It has always been that case ever since Y/N met Mick when he was around 4 years old.

"Y/N, are you not scared for your brother and Seb?" Mick asked as the two of you watched the cars go out for the formation lap.

"I used to be scared" she still is "But its something that they love"

"Mama says Papa gives her a lot of stress when he races. I hope there is no aksident"Mick's tone was with a slight worry.

"Your Papa will be okay, he is a legend"Y/N assures.

The cars are now slowly lining up to the starting grid. Sebastian was on pole while Mark was the 2nd one so they were sharing a Red Bull front row. It only made Y/N worry even more because race starts are quite chaotic here in Silverstone.

"Mark and Seb must be really lucky to be at the front"Mick commented

"I sure hope so"

The lights started flashing and the infamous lights out and away we go went off. It was indeed chaotic at the start with Sebastian and Mark neck to neck with each other. They were both trying to take the lead even if it means pushing the other off track.

"OH FUCK" Y/N immediately covered the ears of Mick as the collision was broadcasted.

Mark managed to go through but Sebastian had puncture. The German was obviously mad for losing crucial places.

"What happened Y/N to Mark and Seb, I thought they are teammates" was the confused question of Mick.

She sighs. Her thoughts are echoing what Mick just said. What happened to them.

"Mick,they are still teammates its just that they also have to compete with each other. Its a sports and sometimes we lose,sometimes we win"Y/N tried to explain it to 10-year-old Mick.

She could already imagine the chaos in the Red Bull garage. She hears the commentaries that maybe this was Webber's revenge for Istanbul. The headache that will emerge for her after this whole race will be very difficult to ignore.

"Y/N if I become an f1 driver,would you come see me?"Mick asked

Its like heaven sent an angel in the form of Mick for Y/N. When she hears him talk it feels as if the world is slightly a little simpler and better. How she wish she lives in that same bubble as Mick.

"I won't crash, I promise"Mick added

Young Mick is still very young but he really dreams to be a Formula 1 driver like his father. Y/N could feel grey hairs developing if she sees Mick in an F1 car.

"Of course Mick"

"Good"Mick grinned "Oh look Y/N your brother is leading! Go Mark Webbahhhhhh"

The cheers of the little Schumacher made Y/N grin. She will deal with all the Red Bull stress later.

2010, Hockenheimring

Usually, Y/N likes getting her coffee at the catering but she doesn't feel like interacting with any Red Bull team for this morning. This is why the Webber girl is seen queuing up in a local Starbucks.

She was just about to sit down and wait for her coffee when a random man bumped her. It sent all her paper flying and Y/N could only grumble since the man didn't even look at her to help.

"Some people these days lack manners"she huffed in frustration.

It was a good thing that someone was helping her picking up the paper. She looked at the bracelets adorning her wrist and the long blonde hair tied up into a bun, thank God for a woman.

"Thank you so much for helping me" Y/N started "You really didn't have to"

"Nonsense, it will be rude to just stare at you picking up your papers"the woman has a thick German accent, similar to Sebastian.

She is probably local, Y/N thinks.

"Still thank you" Y/N politely insisted "Do you want to sit with me, the whole cafe is full"

"Of course"

Y/N wasn't usually chatty but the woman is very comfortable to talk to. She mentioned that she was a local but she lives a bit far from here and that she was only here for the weekend. Y/N shared how she is also here for the weekend.

"Wait are you going to watch Formula 1?" she quizzed

Y/N was about to answer when she heard the call of the barista. he quickly picked up her coffee and went back to her new friend.

"No way, you are Y/N?THE Y/N Webber?" the girl repeated.

Y/N chuckled. It wasn't usual that she has been recognized by formula 1 fans. She felt red as she admits that she is a bit flattered that she knows her name.

"I didn't know I am famous around here"Y/N joked

"Sebastian always talks about you, I was really looking forward to see you later at the garage"

Oh? Y/N thinks there is only one Sebastian that she knows.

"My name is Hanna, Hanna Prater" she introduced "I'm Sebastian's childhood bestfriend"

2010, Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps

Sebastian was bitter. He felt as if he lost a golden opportunity by not being able to score any points today. He is so bitter that he choose not to celebrate with the team tonight and he intended to stay holed up in his hotel room.

However, after a while,he grew tired of the hotel room walls so he ended up walking at the rooftop of the hotel.

Only,he wasn't the only one there.

"Hey stranger" he called out "I haven't seen you in Red Bull garage for a while"

Y/N turned around and she smiled when she met his eyes.

He doesn't understand how she does it but everything seems to melt in the background when she does this. It felt like he was back in his rookie days when they met up at the rooftops and talk for hours. It was much more simpler back then.

"I have been busy.. socializing" Y/N replied.

They both know that was a lie. Y/N was obviously using socializing as a front when in truth is she doesn't like to mingle with the toxicness of the Red Bull garage. But, Sebastian lets it slide.

"Is it bad that I missed you and I want you to stay at the garage?"Sebastian popped the question out of the blue.

"I'll be there as Mark's sister and his assistant, I don't think it will work well with the situation" Y/N informed.

There it goes again. This was that line that Sebastian has been hindering him to confess or ask her out.

It felt so stupid that he can flirt with anyone with ease but when it comes to Y/N, its so hard.He shouldn't have been scared of Mark, he is never scared of Mark (and it shows multiple times on track). But the thing that Sebastian knows is that Y/N has high regards for her brother and Sebastian didn't want to put a strain in their family.

"How are you feeling with the race today?"Y/N asked, diverting the topic.

"I could have been better." Sebastian sighs "Maybe I should train over and over again"

"Don't push yourself, you are still in the pool for the championship" Y/N assures

The championship. It's everything that Sebastian has ever thought of lately. Its within his reach and he really wants to extend a lead with it but somehow its not working. He really thinks that there is a high possibility that he can get his first championship this year.

"The championship must feel really nice" Y/N comments as she observes the smile on Sebastian's face

"I mean that's why were all racing dangerously" Sebastian chuckles.

No sane man would want to race in harsh conditions or beyond normal speed limit without any incentives.

"Just don't lose yourself"Y/N said "I worry about you Seb"

He acknowledges that. He is not dumb that the Red Bull crew has been pitting him and Webber against each other. In the end, it places a pressure on both of them to perform well because all that Red Bull cares about is who will bring the victory. The more likely victor will be the more favored one.

"We'll be alright" Sebastian comforts.

Even if this is all a lie, the two finds that comfort and repeat it to themselves. Maybe if they repeat it a lot then maybe it will end up coming true.

[akutasoda]

hello!! platonic dr ratio with a teen!student reader who excels at one particular subject but is bad or average on the others? also lacks social skills

student knowledge

synopsis - when one of his best students start falling behind in other courses

includes - dr ratio - platonic!

warnings - gn!teen!reader, fluff, slight angst + crack, maybe ooc, wc - 1.1k

taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss

dr ratio was renowned across the galaxy for many things - a member of the intelligensia guild, a bright scholar or even a professor of sort. his students specifically knew him very well as the esteemed scholar who had no time to spare for idiocy. due to his many degrees, ratio offered a variety of subjects to lecture on and most of the time his students did take more than one, whether it was multiple from him or from various other professors.

a common complaint that ratio received was from students who have had chalk thrown at them or even hit over the head with his codex - should they be unfortunate enough to be sat in the front row. however it couldn't be said that he was a bad teacher as he was quite the opposite, no matter how foreboding he seemed when chalk would be launched across the lecture hall faster than the students could track.

exam season had surfaced yet again and that meant ratio would have to spend time toiling over the mistakes of his students, to which he believed was only due to their incompetence and unwillingness to learn.

he let out another sigh as he pushed another students exam to the side, 67/100, he had yet to be impressed by the results and he had no hopes of that changing until he glanced at the name on the top of his next paper. he perked up slightly, maybe there was hope afterall. he briefly remembered you as the quietest student he had who aat at the back and kept to yourself but you were by far his best student in that subject so he never had any complaints. your test certainly hadn't disappointed him this time.

---✩

dr ratio didn't particularly like to interact with the other professors unless absolutely necessary, mainly because he didn't hang around long after his lectures had finished. however he couldn't help but overhear one talking about you in your recent test - it was only mere curiosity that begged him to listen in. although he started questioning if they were actually talking about you when they began talking about how you had one of the worst scores.

surely they were talking about someone else? if you were his best student surely you wouldn't be doing worse in other mediocre professors classes? maybe it was just an unfortunate day for you and next time you'd do better then everyone he was sure of it.

some may say ratio just held you in high esteem and they would be partially right - it was quite the achievement to gain the attention of the scholar. he had seen something in the way you answered the questions he poised and the fact that you excelled magnificently in all tests for his class reinforced the idea that you were one to watch. ratio didn't play favourites but if he did you would be one.

he had seen you in his lecture later that day and observed that nothing seemed the matter, you sat there in silence and didn't even break it when he hit another student square in the head with a piece of chalk. he was tempted to pull you aside afterwards to ask about your other subject results but he knew that it wasn't his place to say anything - it was your course and he wasn't your teacher - so he let it go.

---✩

as much as he tried to forget what he overheard, he couldn't. something didn't sit right with him at the idea that one of his best students were struggling in another subject (in his opinion a worthless subject). perhaps you were pouring all your effort into his lectures and neglecting the others... maybe if he loosened up your homework you'd pull your grades up in that subject - he could always play it off as your reward for doing so well in the test.

you almost questioned dr ratio when he didn't assign you extra work but you opted to stay quiet and take the rest. admittedly you did feel as though you should pull back in your studies for his class as your other subjects were suffering, naturally or not. perhaps you should use this as an opportunity to bring those grades up...

unfortunately that didn't seem to help. you had a surprise test in the subject and you couldn't help but stare at the mediocre score with a grimace plastered on your face. perhaps you should just stick to getting good grades in ratio's classes.

admittedly it had soured your mood but you didn't think it would be so noticeable until dr ratio asked you to stay behind after his lecture. at first you thought you're grades had also dropped in his class but ratio seemed to diminish those thoughts immediately.

'i don't take interest in my students lives but when one of my best students looks down i have to worry it may affect their scores' he started and you almost hung your head in a small bit of shame 'what's happened?' ratio observed as you wordlessly reached into your bag and dragged out a test.

you shyly handed him the test, practically ashamed of your score. normally ratio would let his ego get the best of him and he would scoff at the low score, but he didn't. instead he scrunched it up and threw it onto his desk, your eyes widened in surprise as you never took dr ratio to do suchh a thing.

'a bad test score shouldn't define your mood. you are a excellent student who just needs to focus their efforts elsewhere for the time being' you were quite shocked as you never took the doctor to be one to dish out compliments 'if push comes to shove is hall intervene and help you get those grades up but i doubt it will come to that'

due to your rather introverted nature you could only muster up a small nod at the compliment, ratio noticed you're slight uncomfortableness and dismissed you.

ratio didn't have favourites, but when someone gains the attention of him he can't help but want to push them to flourish in everything they do.

[kairiscorner]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEE IM BEGGING 29 FROM THE DIALOGUE PROMPT WITH EX-HUSBAND CO PARENT MIGUEL WHO WE’RE STILL IN LOVE WITH BUT HE ACCIDENTALLY TAUGHT GABRIELLA TO CUSS IN SPANISH WHILE SHE WAS WITH HIM FOR THE WEEKEND OR SOMETHING😭💕 I LITERALLY LOVE ALL YOUR WORK SMM TAKE YOUR TIME🥹🩷🩷

HIIII omg THANK YOUUU and i love that idea wHAT i hope you like this !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i didn't teach her that. – divorced!co-parent!miguel o'hara x divorced!co-parent!reader

miguel's car was parked in the driveway, with miguel himself helping gabriella out of the car and walking her up to you. she greeted you with a big hug as she came inside to change her clothes and taking off her shoes, leaving you and miguel out here by the patio. it was just two adults, two adults who used to be married to each other... but now just two adults who are forced to see each other for the sake of their daughter. "how was she?" you asked him promptly as you leaned against the doorway of your house. "oh, as bright and darling as usual. my mom came over, and so did gabri--they took care of her more than i would've liked to myself." he said as he looked away from you, feeling the heavy tension between you two still, even though your divorce had happened years ago.

you couldn't shake off the awkwardness between you two, you were both stuck in a weird limbo, you both were in a checkmate with each other. and no matter how much it hurt for you to think you used to be married, you used to be in love with this man... you couldn't hate him. in fact, you loved him dearly still. being divorced to him didn't change the fact you loved him, that you still love him; it also didn't change the fact you had to see him more than you thought would be good for either of you due to gabriella, it didn't change the fact he was the father of your child and had every right to see her.

you nodded as you opened the door a little wider, with a small voice in your head asking you what the hell you were doing. "wanna, y'know... come in?" you asked him in an awkward voice as he looked at you in slight surprise. "ah, sure, sure. thank you." he said as he stepped in as you opened the door wider for him. you hated how kind he sounded right then and there, how soft he became. 'this isn't the guy i divorced, that guy was a piece of shit. who's this guy really? he can't be miguel, no way...' you thought to yourself as you shut the door, hearing gabriella and miguel's faint conversation from far away in the kitchen.

the father and daughter were laughing together as miguel picked her up and spun her around. you remember when he used to do that when gabriella was a toddler, when neither of you had any problems towards each other, when all was blissful and sweet... when life was good. you abruptly stopped reminiscing the beautiful moments you all shared as a family when gabriella called you back to reality, asking you if you wanted to play some soccer outside with her as her goalie, with miguel being dragged by her outside. you chuckled and agreed, following her and miguel outside.

you two played a few good rounds, with miguel being the referee and keeping track of every time gabriella scored a goal. though when gabriella kicked the ball too hard and the ball was thrown into the top of a tree in your yard, she muttered something you could not believe would come out of her mouth. "mierda, puta madre!" your daughter exclaimed in frustration as you turned your head to her, asking yourself if you heard her right. "what did you say, young lady? do you even know what those words mean, dear?" you asked her in a stern tone as she froze up and turned to look at you.

"um... papa says those words all the time when... when he gets angry over the phone..." she muttered in a semi-frightened way, as if she didn't realize what she did wrong when you looked at her angrily and furrowed your eyebrows at her. your expression softened as you realized she didn't mean to cuss, it was her father's influence.

you breathed in deeply and exhaled, smiling at her, you knelt down to her level and pat her head as you called miguel over. "gabi, baby, please go to your room. your papa and i have a lot to talk about." you said as you glared at miguel when you turned your head to face him, with miguel gulping and going over behind gabi, holding her by her shoulders as if she could protect him from your rage. "gabi, as your papa, i say protect me from the dragon that is about to breathe fire on me." he murmured as you gently pulled gabi to you and led her into the house as you shut the sliding door and smiled at miguel a little too sweetly.

miguel backed away slowly as you took one of your slippers on the steps into the house and, while smiling all the while, approached him and raised your hand to smack him with your slipper repeatedly, scolding him for teaching your daughter to have a foul mouth and for not even being responsible enough for teaching her not to repeat what he says. "but muñeca, please! i'm sorry, i'm really sorry! i didn't think she'd repeat what i say, believe me!" he tried pleading with you as you kept swatting at him with your slipper. "like hell i can believe you of all people on anything you say anymore!" "even... even if i told you that i still loved you, you really wouldn't believe me? because, i... look, i still love you, querida, okay?! at least... at least believe me there, because nothing else could be truer!" he blurted out in a genuine, sad tone as you kept hitting him, but soon stopped as his words sunk in.

he loved you.

he loves you.

he still loves you.

but like hell you could believe him anymore.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @arachnoia @melovetitties @meeom @fictarian @yuridopted0 @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[quack-quack-snacks]

Time Will Tell - Chapter 15

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: Cursing, panicky feelings, the voting scene. Word Count: 1,545

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The papers pulled out and accounted for were placed on the table while Eun-hyuk kept track of them with the whiteboard behind him. It was down to the last two slips of paper in the box and you were getting worried, the fear and panic building up inside your stomach and threatening to take over. 

“If one of the last two ballots is in favor, he’ll be kicked out,” Eun-hyuk declared as Seok-hyeon grabbed all the slips and looked around at the residents in the room with something like betrayal. 

“Seven people opposed? Are you all crazy?” He yelled. 

“Opposed,” Eun-hyuk read off the next one he pulled out and wrote it on the board, just like he did with the others. “Eight to eight.”

“All the bitches and bastards on his side should be thrown out with him!” He screamed, looking directly at you and the three people near you: Eun-yu, Ji-su, and Jae-heon. 

“Will you calm the fuck down?” Ji-su asked him, her face curled into one of disgust. You would have said something too but your throat was closed up with your anxiety. 

“Don’t get worked up yet,” the boy keeping score placated everyone, looking at you in particular when he noticed the growing panic on your face. “The last vote here will determine the result.”

He drew the final paper from the box and you buried your head in your arms, reminding yourself to breathe.

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In- 

“Invalid.”

You looked up as he showed the paper to everyone, revealing the circle with an X drawn through it. You didn’t know you could feel such relief but you did and let your head fall back against the pillar behind you. 

“Oh, no way!” Seok-hyeon cursed as he grabbed the paper from Eun-hyuk’s hands and turned to Byeong-il, demanding he bring Hyun-su to the room. “Bring that bastard here!”

“Y-you mean me?”

“Yeah! We need to get rid of him!”

Byeong-il looked reluctant to do it but eventually walked off to retrieve the boy. 

“Voting, my ass!” The older man yelled at the boy in the front before turning around. “Are you all crazy? Did you forget that someone just died?”

“Are you against the result?” Eun-hyuk asked rather calmly. 

“What?” Seok-hyeon asked as he turned back around to face him. “You don’t know squat. Murder is killing a human being, not killing a giant fucking monster!” He flipped the small table holding the box and papers over, it falling rather anticlimactically to the floor. 

In a moment of what you liked to call instant karma, his nose started bleeding tremendously, the first sign of monsterization. 

“This is… it’s just because I’m tired!” He tried to reason, walking towards the middle of the group while everyone backed away from him in fear. You stayed on the ground, watching the scene in slight amusement that you wouldn’t dare show on your face. The amusement faded when he stopped in front of a familiar figure donning a black hoodie. You quickly stood and looked at his face, a face you missed despite you seeing it no less than an hour ago. 

“Hyun-su…” you whispered. His eyes flickered to you but he kept his attention on the bleeding man in front of him. 

“You better brace yourself,” he warned, almost tauntingly. 

“What?” Seok-hyeon asked?

“The monsters are coming for you.”

You nearly laughed at the fury that filled Seok-hyeon’s fear-filled eyes. “You son of a bitch!”

Hyun-su moved his gaze to the box and papers scattered on the floor, walking over and kneeling down. He picked one up that already had a circle drawn on it. “Can I cast my vote?” He asked, hovering the paper with a circle above the box. 

“Hyun-su, what are you doing?” You objected, ready to walk forward and pluck the paper from his hands if it were for Eun-yu grabbing your arm and pulling you back. 

“If I put this in, he’ll be thrown out too, right?” He asked before looking directly at Eun-hyuk to make sure. You let out a light gasp when you saw his pitch-black eyes. “Am I right?”

The thud of Seok-hyeon’s body falling to the floor interrupted the staring contest between the two and everyone looked over. The blood still pouring from his nose pooled around his face and chest, staining his white shirt beyond repair.

“That’s right,” Eun-hyuk declared, drawing everyone’s attention back to him and the question asked. 

“Wait! No, no, no, we can’t just kick them out! Some of the monsters weren’t evil! I’ve seen them through the windows, how are we sure these two won’t turn into those types of monsters?” You tried to reason, looking at Eun-hyuk with your pleading eyes.

“Alright,” he compromised. “We’ll quarantine them. We’ll put them in the arcade room for now so we can keep track of them during the transition periods.”

Your face fell but your eyes held relief. You were happy that at the very least they weren’t going to be exiled out of the building, but you weren’t sure you were too fond of the idea to completely isolate them from everyone else. Your gaze moved from his to Hyun-su’s where he was already watching you. You moved over to kneel next to him. He still had the hand holding the paper hovering over the box, ready to cast his vote and make it so that he and Seok-hyeon would be quarantined. “Are you okay with that?” You asked him, your voice quiet and meant just for him. You wanted him to fully be in control of what would happen, but knowing that wouldn't happen you could at least tell him his options. 

His eyes remained on yours as he placed the paper in, casting his vote and condemning himself to nearly complete isolation from everyone else. “Yeah. As long as it keeps… everyone safe,” he said, nearly saying ‘you’ instead of ‘everyone’ but catching himself. 

You nodded reluctantly, whispering, “Okay.”

“The votes have been cast. The infected will be quarantined in the arcade room until further notice,” Eun-hyuk announced as the meeting came to a close. You stayed kneeling on the floor beside Hyun-su while a few members helped pick up Seok-hyeon and carry him over to the arcade room. 

Eventually, it was just you, Hyun-su, and Eun-hyuk in the room. “Time to go,” the bespectacled boy told him. You let out a sharp breath before standing and offering your hand to Hyun-su. He spent a few more moments than necessary just staring at your hand until finally raising his and accepting your offer. It was more for the sake of physical contact than for actually helping him up, but you appreciated it while it lasted, and you hoped he did too. Once he was standing, you slowly let go of his hand and let him walk behind Eun-hyuk as he started leading him to the arcade room. 

It didn’t take long for the three of you to get there. Seok-hyeon was placed on the only couch in the room, leaving Hyun-su the option of the floor or a raised plastic platform as his bed. You let out a sharp sigh, feeling your eyes sting but holding back the waterworks. Quickly, you took off the jacket around your waist, not caring about how the air seemed to be getting chillier over the past couple of days and only thinking about Hyun-su’s comfort. 

“Here,” you gave him the jacket. “You can use this again as a pillow. It’ll probably be more comfortable than anything else here.”

“No,” he refused with a confused shake of his head, still looking surprised by your endless acts of kindness toward him. “I can’t, you need this. What if you get cold?” 

You smiled. “If I get cold then I’ll come and ask for it back. How’s that sound? Just use it until then though, okay?” He still looked unwilling to accept it so you sweetened the deal. “Just for the nights you sleep in here. I’ll take it back in the morning, okay?”

He begrudgingly accepted, taking the rolled-up jacket from your hands with one last attempt to convince you otherwise. “But what if I get blood on it?”

You gave him a look that said ‘Really?’ “We’re living in the apocalypse now. A little blood never hurt anybody,” you teased. When he still looked hesitant, you gave a solution. “If you’re so worried about it, you can put your hood over your head to make sure it won’t get on it, but I really don’t mind if it does.”

He nodded, giving you a small genuine smile in thanks. Your own smile widened at the sight of his. It was the first time you saw it and it was honestly an adorable sight to behold. 

A call of your name from the arcade’s entrance brought both of your attention over there and you saw Eun-hyuk. “Come on. Time to go.”

You sighed, looking at Hyun-su with an apology painted over your face. “Don’t bore yourself to death in here, okay? I’ll try to bring you something to do,” you promised. He nodded and you turned, walking out with a final glance back at him before Eun-hyuk closed the door with a click. 

[acesofspadess]

the right thing to do

Lando Norris x black!driver!OC (Ace Jules Giovanelli)

warnings: angry Lando, cursing, crashes (mentioned), physical injury (mentioned) kissing??

ace radio 🔊 this took a little bit longer than expected, but first F1 fix is here! 4.5k words so get comfortable and enjoy

Being one of the first women in F1 was tricky but you managed to come into one of the top teams; McLaren. You and Lando had been great teammates for the past 18 months, but even better soulmates for 12 months. Your confessions were after the Silverstone 2023 Grand Prix making second and third. You had yet to win but were inching closer and closer every race. 

Today in the Hungarian Grand Prix you knew the front row lineup between you and Lando would prove to be a race indeed.

“IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

Lando merged across the track closer to you but stayed far enough to not throw you off. You managed to overtake him while he was fighting with Max and there you were, P1. 

Being in the lead for most of the race with Lando behind you gave you the adrenaline to push. The first pit stops were great and you managed to work back up to P1. It was the second set of pit stops that made the race tricky

You watched Lando merge behind you into the pits; effectively watching your maiden win get thrown in the bin. 

“Why didn’t we box?!”

There was no answer until you made your way around the track. 

‘box box’

You wanted to cry but knew that it wouldn’t help. You had a great pit stop and worked your way back to P2. 

Lap 51

(commentator) We’re getting ready to hear what they're telling Ace for the first time

‘Okay Ace, so once you get to Lando, we’ll swap positions. We’ll swap positions, but we want to avoid Lando having to give up a lot of race time.”

“That’s not fair to Lando, you boxed him first telling him to drop isn’t fair.’

‘Team orders Ace.’ Andrea’s voice came through. 

“I want to win, I'm telling you I do.” Your voice cracked emotions high, “but not like this.”

‘Ace, not here.’

‘Fuck!.’

Wow you can hear the emotion in her voice. She doesn't want the race to go like this either.

You knew then that there was no other choice. You had to race.

‘Once you catch up to Lando he’ll let you pass.’

But he wasn't giving up, and quite frankly neither were you.

‘I can't catch up to him like this.’

‘working on it’

It looks like Ace is trying to go for it, despite not agreeing to the team orders

You were frustrated for so many reasons. For them giving Lando P1 and then taking it from him, but also for yourself because he wouldn’t follow the team's order. 

You tried to maintain the pace but you knew the tire deg was going to catch up to you if you weren’t careful. 

You saw Lando start to slow down and pressed a little harder to pass him. You threw up half of a heart in thanks and appreciation for the uneasy decision. 

It was only then you realised that you only had a lap left until you won your first grand prix

“We are witnessing history here this afternoon. Daughter to a hairdresser, goddaughter of Jules Bianchi. We watched her fight fearlessly through Formula 3, Formula Renault, Formula 2, and now Formula1. She has done it folks! Ace Giovanelli is the first woman to win a Formula 1 sprint race and now a Formula 1 race. The youngest driver on the grid has scored her maiden win, putting her third in Drivers Championships, behind her teammate Lando Norris. 

‘That’s P1 Ace, P1!’

They could hear your tears over the radio. 

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. This means so much. Thank you Rup, Zak, Andrea. The whole fucking team. Sorry for making the team orders hard. My pace wasn’t good enough to close the gap without Lando slowing down. But Lando. Mon ange. I love you. I couldn’t have made it this far without your love and support and I couldn’t have won this race without you, and i will be the first one to say that. I love you. Thank you all so so much. To mum I love you. To every single girl out there. Follow your dreams, no matter what anyone else says, especially if it's F1. To the girls in F1 academy, this is also for you. You will be right here winning your first race too, never give up.‘Et à Jules. Ceci est pour vous! Merci de m'avoir montré ce qu'était le karting, je sais que c'était un désastre à gérer. Je vous aimerai pour toujours. J'aimerais que vous soyez ici.’ First win Spade Army!!!!’

Parking in parc ferme with the big 1 in front of you was surreal. You just sat taking it in when you felt a bump against your head knowing it was Lando helmet tapping you. You finally got  out of the car and stood on the front, fist pumping like crazy. You immediately ran to your team and jumped on them knowing they would catch you. 

You didn't know how many hugs and congratulations you received but you never wanted it to end. You went to the weigh station and saw you had lost a lot of weight, unsurprisingly. You finally took off your helmet and balaclava revealing the four twists you always put your curls in. you undid them and shook them out dramatically knowing your fans always loved when you did it and put on the hat that had P1 on it.

You found Lando as Lewis was talking and jumped into him throwing him off his balance. ‘Thank you.” you whispered as he hugged you back. You repeated it over and over again until the tears made it unable to speak. He pulled your face from out of his neck and held it in his hands. ‘You deserved it baby.’ you knew he meant it but saw the sadness in his eyes. ‘I love you.’

He was pulled away from you but still mouthed those three words back to you before starting his interview. Lewis picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and spinning you around and you laughed and screamed. ‘Lewis!!’ 

‘So proud of you little sis. Many more to come.’ you hugged him thankfully and walked in separate directions to start your interview and for him to go to the cool down room

“Ace! It is your first Formula 1 win on a Sunday, and your breaking records as the first woman to win an F1 race. How is it?”

“It's very very special. This is the day I dreamed of as a kid. Being on the top step of an F1 podium, as a woman that feeling is one-hundred times better. I won’t ignore the complications at the end, but I put myself in the right position at the start, and just thank you to the team for an amazing car. It's been otherworldly racing with McLaren. I can’t thank them enough for trusting me and making a little girl's dream come true.”

“How are you feeling with the car McLaren is giving you now?”

“Yeah it's,” you whistled ending with a little chuckle. “It's a beast right now. In every condition we've managed to get a podium, is it the driver, is it the car,” you laughed again as it was an ongoing joke that you and Lando were the true main piece. “But it really was a great car. We had it under our control and it was very fast today, a six second gap is no joke. But securing a win, let alone a 1-2, who knows when the last 1-2 was so, incredibly happy with the whole team and getting my first win on the board.”

The camera, unbeknownst to you, caught Lando watching the interview with a small smile on his face. 

“You said it was under control, but the team order situation did not seem under control from the outside. How were you towards the end there? That Lando might not actually let you through?’

You chuckled a bit knowing it was the first of many questions aimed towards the situation. “I mean the longer you leave it, your nerves start to kick in. But I knew he would eventually listen. And on the off chance he didn’t, i would fully respect that because you have to be selfish in this sport. I haven't heard Landos team radio yet but I'm sure it will be uh- informative- to say the least. But yeah, it's team work whether we like it or not, but no, I knew he would have done it.”

“So we can assume this is the first of many wins. You’re proving to be such a special talent out there.”

“I hope so.” you laughed while looking around. “I’ve definitely still got things to work on, like my pace and stuff, but I'll enjoy this win as much as I can. Try to be back here under less complicated circumstances.” 

“Next is Spa, very different track, lots of downforce. Do you expect to see yourselves at the front there too?”

“Yeah I do. You have to be confident in your team and your partner no matter what, but genuinely I think we've got another 1-2 on the way. It's also Landos second home race,” you paused to look at him quickly, “so spirits are high for that.”

“Alright. Congratulations Ace on your first win. Absolutely spectacular.”

“Merci!”

You walked away putting the mic down, and grabbing your helmet and sticking your balaclava and gloves into it before walking into the cool down room.

“…you made the most out of it seven years ago, and now it's us.” You felt the tension the moment you walked in. “I wasn't complaining, I was just complimenting that you guys were fast.” You heard the dejected and confused tone in your grid-brother’s voice. “Lando.” you scolded and he sighed, “Sorry mate.” you nodded at Lando as a thank you and Lewis shrugged it off. “No worries, emotions are high.” he dapped him up as he stood in front of the television.

You sat down in the middle seat with a giddy smile on your face. You watched the race highlights, laughing at Lewis wincing when you slid a bit into the gravel. “Yeah, I paid the price for that one.” 

When the Max and Lewis collision popped up you winced. “That probably scared Max. I would've started crying.” you laughed at yourself with Lando and Lewis joining in. “Which is crazy considering you've crashed way worse than this.”

You refrained from remembering that.

You let out a sigh when it showed the clip of you crossing the line with Lando a car's length behind you. You both made eye contact then looked away. He was rightfully upset, and you knew it would be a while before he wasn't.

The highlights ended and you were gestured out of the room to start the podium celebrations.

It felt weird watching the men go before you and not you before them.  ‘And winner Ace Giovanelli!

Your name was being chanted all around the podium and you couldn’t help the tears that escaped your eyes.

You waved at everyone around the podium seeing so many people wearing papaya with hints of gold meaning they were there for you specifically. You blew kisses to everyone you could shaking hands with Lewis and Lando before stepping up onto that top step. You took your hat off and listened to the Monaco National Anthem, you thought of Charles who was your best mate growing up and wondered if he was down there listening to his home anthem being played for his best friend. 

After the British anthem played you were handed your first, First place trophy, and jokingly shielded it away from Lando as you both laughed. You ducked down as the medal was placed around your neck and thrusted the trophy into the air. You watched Lando get his and something just clicked in you. After Lewis finished celebrating you yelled out a ‘wait!’ sending everyone for a shock. You jumped down from the top step trophy in hand standing in front of Lando. He looked confused as you took the second place from his hands and gave it to the person standing next to the stage. ‘Go on.” He looked shocked. ‘Ace no.’ 

You knew he wouldn’t budge so you stood on his step and pushed him towards the top step as he stepped up. You handed him your first place trophy and saw the tears spring to his eyes. ‘It’s yours as much as it is mine.’ You saw him wipe a tear as Lewis started clapping for him and then you and then everyone else. ‘Lando, Lando, Lando!’ Was all you heard and you knew that THAT was the right thing to do.

He stepped down pulling you into a deep kiss. No words were needed. You took your positions back and took your picture. The first, but definitely not the last time that you would be in the middle. You ran to give your trophy to someone before you and Lando champagne popped together. You tried to spray both Lando and Lewis, but it was three against one.

Lando saw you wiping the champagne from your eyes, knowing the burn first hand. The smile on your face as you got showered in it was more than enough to rid him of all negative thoughts. The way your brown skin glowed in the sun beaming against the champagne made him fall in love with you all over again. He saw you turn towards him and spray a little champagne before kissing him again. His arms immediately wrapping around you, pulling you closer. You felt the pour of champagne over you both and giggled into the kiss. You looked back to see Lewis behind it all with a big smile on his face laughing and going to collect his stuff. ‘Come on winner.’ Lando joked, taking your hand to grab his trophy and yours. 

“Let's hear from Lando now. This could be interesting.” 

“Hey Lando. I know it's not easy giving up a win and I will never be in that position. But a great result for the team, tell me how you're feeling right now.”

“Yeah, happy. Happy for the team. I don't know when the last 1-2 last was,” he smiled cheekily, “probably over 10 years ago or something. Just super happy. I'm also happy for Ace too. Like your first race, I know she won in Qatar, and she’ll agree this win means a lot more. But this win is a proper win, it's a special moment and i'm happy for her. Not only as her boyfriend but as her teammate.”

“...but just personally how difficult was the design in that race, cause you  just want to win?’

He smiled that cheeky smile while chuckling. “Yeah, uh, it's tough, but I know what Ace has done for me in the past. Yeah, I think this is a little bit different, but I got told to let her pass and I did.”

“Were you aware that Ace didn't want to pass when the team order was first called out?”

“Uh, no I was never informed of that. That-” but he left it there.

“The podium celebration seemed very happy but did you not feel any emotion on watching Ace wave at you as she passed?”

“Did she?” Lando questioned a little hurt but not fully believing. “Ace wouldn’t do that.”

‘I mean it’s what we all saw.’

‘I’ll have to ask her myself. She wouldn’t do that to anyone let alone her boyfriend.” He chuckled a bit wondering why they were trying to stir stuff up.

“Hey Ace, first win, under slightly awkward circumstances, but a race win nonetheless.”

You chuckled with your head tilting. “Yeah I'm super happy about winning, that's not something that will ever fade. You know between Lando and I we were the frontrunners. Me in the first half and Lando in the second, but I put myself where I needed to be in the beginning and it turned into a win. It was essentially an undercut, so the position swap seemed fair, but the circumstance under which the swap was done could have been handled better.”

You got jumped on by not one but 4 of your favourite people. You all started screaming knowing exactly what they were there for. The mic bare,y caught onto what was said,

“Race winner!” Pierre congratulated first. “Now you’re on my level.” Carlos teased. “You won Australia because everyone felt bad.” you teased back. “Whatever helps you sleep at night amiga.”

“Despite the shit race I had, this is the only thing that could make it better.” Max threw his arm around your shoulders and you laughed seeing the clip of him cursing at GP. “You owe GP an apology.” 

“I don't owe him shit.”

“Moving on,” Charles cut in before scooping you into a hug you needed more than you thought. “je suis si fier de toi. Ecouter notre hymne m'a fait pleurer. Jules serait tellement fier de toi et serait là pour te serrer dans ses bras à ma place. Vous méritez tellement ça.”

You hugged him tighter. “Je t'aime tellement Charlie. Merci d'être toujours là pour moi.”

You let go of him and they all hugged you before leaving you, and you went back to your interview with repeated apologies.

“No worries, everyone wants a bit of the winner. You said earlier that you would listen to Lando’s team radio, have you done so yet?”

You smiled cheekily - much to similar to Landos- knowing where this was going. “I did yeah. I wont say much publically, for multiple reasons, but Lando had every right to say and do what he did, and i'll leave it there.”

‘We talked to Lando about you waving at him as passed him on the penultimate lap-

‘I didn’t wave at Lando. Let’s get that settled first, I put up half of a heart. It’s something we’ve been doing for a long time, so let’s not turn this loving moment into something it isn’t please.’

You walked in a bit late hearing Landos answer.

“...it's not my fault I was leading the race, you know. They should have boxed Ace first and we wouldn't even be having this discussion. So you know - um- it's not that, but I think we could've made slightly better decisions and I'm sure we'll talk about it later. At the same time, this girl here,” he looked at you with a sad smile. “Deserved to win. She got me off the line and yeah it's a very special feeling winning your first race- and i'll say first race ‘cause i think she’ll agree that it's a race win and not a sprint race. I'll let her enjoy it, and for the team it's an incredible weekend for all of us.”

You rested your head on his shoulder in gratitude before handing the hot cup of lemon and honey tea, as if it was nothing. “Let's move onto Ace. You've been dreaming of this since you were a little girl. You've won on your 35th race start, how was the view from the top step of the podium?”

“Yeah, it's an incredible feeling. Lots of monegasque flags, felt like a home race.” you chuckled briefly while adjusting your hat. “But yeah ever since I can remember i've been saying it was my dream to get to Formula 1 and then to make it to that top step on the podium. It's surreal and i'm glad it happened with my friends and boyfriend by my side.”

“How different does this feel from your sprint win in Qatar last year?”

“Very different. As Lando said, this is a proper race, and a sprint race isn't easy, but it's easier than a Sunday race. It's a win but nothing you can really brag about, unlike today.”

“Can we talk about strategy in this race? If you had boxed first then it would have been simpler.”

“Yeah, it was to cover certain people, Lando had Lewis and I had max. That's what the team had us do. I'm sure as a team we will talk about it later, i've got a few choice words I’d like to say but i'll leave it at that.”

Lando and Lewis both smiled at that comment before Lewis was answered his question. “I mean the number doesn't really matter. I'm just looking at how young they are. They were in nappies when I started.” he chuckled looking back at you and Lando. “Ace you were born in 2000-”

“2003, 20 years old.”

“Holy moly,” you both laughed, “yeah, just seeing how far McLaren has come as a team, but these two specifically. They had a really tough time last year, so seeing them up here now just makes me happy that I'm still here to witness it.”

As Lewis was getting asked questions you saw Lando picking at his fingers. You looked at his face and scooched closer to him. He immediately forced a smile as he looked at you and leaned into your chest as you wrapped your arms around each other.

“Question for Lando please. You said earlier that you weren't aware Ace didn't want to do the switch at first. If you had known that, do you think things would have changed?”

He left your side but stayed close. “I mean I argued it anyway didn’t I?” You joined into Landos chuckle. “I know what I'm going to do and what I'm not. I was going to do it on the very last lap on the last corner. I would have just kept going if i had known Ace didn’t want to but, I mean it is what it is. I was always going to give back the position, unless they changed their mind but they didn't and Ace didn’t seem to have any say in it either, so.” and he put his mic down.

“Another question for lando. Lando you said over the radio that you were fighting for the world championship, do you think the team made the wrong decision today? Especially with Ace right behind you now.”

You rolled your eyes as he picked up his mic. “Are you?,” he broke his sentence looking at you and you shrugged, you didn't think you had passed charles just yet. “But no, to answer the question. I mean, I didn't lose there, I lost the win off the line. You know i had a terrible-

“Lan”

“I had a bad start,” he looked at you knowing you were scolding him for downing himself way too extreme. “Something happened on my second shift, I lost a lot of momentum. Ace got in on the inside and that was that. So, i got put into the lead rather than ‘wanting to’, um i feel like we made things way too hard for ourselves and way too tricky for ourselves. Should have just boxed Ace first, and you know they gave me the lead, and I gave it back, so I shouldn't have won today. I didn't deserve to win because of my start and Ace’s good start and that's that. I don't feel like - i know i was in that position for 16-17 laps, its hard cause your in that position to give it back and i was thinking about those 7 points but truth is i shouldn't have been given the hope for those points and so the team were right and i stand by what they said.”

He put his mic and you picked yours up. “I mean it's all a bunch of hypotheticals, hypothetically, if I spun out in the gravel, landed upside down and snapped by neck. Lando would've won” you watched everyone's face turn. “Yeah see its bull. It's stupid to make it up. Lando deserved the win just as much as I did because his team strategy was better and his pace was better. If no one else is going to say it I will.”

You were known for being ‘mini max’ in interviews and conferences and you held that with pride. 

You weren't asked a lot of questions, but you weren't surprised, the media loved drama and tried to get the most out of Lando.

“... i wouldn't expect Ace to let me pass just because i was fighting for a championship, i mean lets ask. Would you?” he chuckled quickly, turning back. “She drove better and you know that's it, It's just something we'll work on as a team.”

“I would by the way. I said this earlier but I wouldn't have been mad if Lando didn't give it up. You've got to be selfish and static- statistl- yeah i'm not doing this. You know what I mean." Everyone laughed. “But yeah he proved at the end that he was the faster and the better car so yeah. He also had a better chance at the world championship for not only him but the team, so who am i to hold him from that.”

You leaned back after that. Finally putting your true feelings out there. 

“Final question and it's for Ace, you spoke about Jules at the end of the race, how much of an inspiration he was to you.”

Lando grabbed your hand as he knew this was sentimental. “Yeah um Jules died when i was 11 and i didn't fully understand then that he was um- not coming back.” you cleared your throat as the memories flooded back in. “It took a few days for me to understand that he wasn't just taking a trip and that it's hard for an 11 year old to lose the person that treated you as their own daughter. I just remember me and Charlie never leaving each other's sides. Which he probably hated having a little 11 year old attached to his arm.” you laughed at the thought. “He told me this week on the anniversary that he had planned to adopt me, and damn did that throw me off, but I wasn't named after him for no reason, so everything I do I owe to him.”

When you were dismissed you and Lando walked back quietly to the motor home. You were still digesting and you knew Lando was as well. “I'm sorry.” Were the first things he said as you went to your driver's room. “For absolutely nothing. You don't need to apologise. Ever. It happened. I got my first win which we are both more than proud of.” he nodded hastily at that. “Yeah the team made some shit calls, but we just have to roll with the punches. No one, and especially not me, is mad at you for feeling the way you do. I would be so much more visibly upset if I were in your shoes.”

You watched as he sunk in the words you said and nodded before opening his arms asking for a hug. “Come here baby.” you let him come into your arms as you swayed back and forth. “I love you so much Ace.”

“I love you Lando two-wins.”

“Two?”

“You won my heart, what more could you ask for.” you teased making him laugh.

“Yeah, that's the best win.”

mclaren posted!

liked by acegiovanelli, landonorris, and 5,000,000 others

mclaren P1 for our papaya princess and driver of the day!

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papayaa5army this being their most liked post is so real

landonorris congrats baby 🧡

acegiovanelli thank you admin… but im in your walls

↳ papayaspades girl😅

f1 posted

liked by acegiovanelli, maxverstappen1 and 546,789 others

f1 Ace Giovenalli has done it again. She makes history as the first woman to win a sprint race and a Sunday race. She also won driver of the day.

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acegiovanelli 🧡

↳ ln4life lando should’ve at least got driver of day

↳ acegiovanelli couldn’t agree more

↳ princesspapaya not her agreeing

landonorris love you baby

↳ acegiovanelli the true DOTD. je’taime mon ange

landonorris posted

liked by lewishamilton, acegiovanelli, and 858,694 others

landonorris P1 P2 yesterday, P1 P2 today. Congrats to the love of my life on her first win. Many more to come.

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acegiovanelli I love you mon cœur. Next one is yours I can feel it.

↳ landonorris 🧡

↳ papayaspades why is this giving quadrant crashing everyone out so Ria can win

↳ acegiovanelli 👀

acegiovanelli posted

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 101,050,555 others

acegiovanelli I dreamed of this day every since Jules let me sit in his F1 car. Thank you to everyone who has supported me throughout my racing years. Thank you McLaren and above all thank you Lando, this is yours as much as it is mine. I love you all, see you in Spa!

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landonorris all you baby 🧡

zendaya congratulations girl! many more to come

charles_leclrec Jules serait tellement fier de toi. just like me❤️

beyonce congratulations gorgeous

badgalriri yesss! you did that

lewishamilton black girl magic

carlossainz55 so proud of you amiga

pierregasly congrats little sister 🧡

maxvertsappen1 looks like I have competition now

↳ landonorris rude

alexandrasaintmleux congrats wifey

francisca.cgomez my baby is growing up 🧡

kellypiquet P is jumping around for you 🧡

instagram most liked post… I think so

ace radio 🔊 thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed it, likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

[lokideservesahug]

For How Long!?!- Extras

Extra 3: First Impressions (and do-overs)

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairings: Logan Sargeant x reader (not yet romantic)

Warnings: None that I can think. Young Y/N is a bit of a dick?

Notes: I love this series sm...so here's another extra! Also apologies for any spelling mistakes

Summary: Y/L/N and Sarge first met at 13 and 14... and did NOT get along well at all. Does that change when they re-meet a few years later?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

It was hard being a woman in a male dominated field. I mean sexist remarks and extra criticism are to be expected. But the amount of attention you received? It was nearly enough to make you quit the sport all together. But, you knew that this what you were getting into when you started karting and now that you know the feeling, there is nothing better than zooming as fast as you can around a track.

Despite the regular criticism, one thing that the spectators had to admit was that you were good. Like really good. You were only 13 and already you had a backing from one of the biggest F1 teams' junior programmes (how you managed that, you're not quite sure).

You were happy with the rate in which you were going; winning race after race (and if not then at least scoring points). F3 was already in the discussions with your name thrown around. Maybe you'd even be racing there already... if there weren't age limits that you were yet to hit for another few years.

You were comfortable. Until HE came along. Logan Hunter Sargeant. The most stereotypical American you could ever imagine. You didn't hold a grudge at first, you never did. When you went to speak with him and shake his hand after his recent promotion into the WSK series, you were actually quite excited to meet him. Despite being constantly surrounded by men you weren't used to seisng anyone so...pleasant looking (he also wasn't unattractive to your 13 year old self's brain).

However, when you bounced out of your seat and introduced yourself whilst holding your hand out, he just stared, slack jawed. Gosh he really was just like everyone else. Surely it's not that outrageous to see a woman here. I mean the sport is getting much more diverse!

So disheartened and slightly upset, you turned way and grunled a quiet "Ok then" under your breath as you walked away.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logan didn't mean to react like that. He just couldn't help it. He'd heard of you, everyone had. The youngest woman currently dominating the lower levels of motorsport. Everyone spoke about the Y/L/N girl with the super bright future. Yet, everyone failed to mention how pretty she was. By the time he realised his worldless, opened mouth state, it was too late. You and already started to furrow your brows, frown and turn away.

When his brain and body had finally resyncronsied, it was too late. You had walked off and he was left feeling. Well like a complete jerk.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

He had tried many times to re-introdice himself as time went on. But unsurprisingly to protect yourself, you had made a judgement and stuck to it.

However, Logan was adamant. He tried again and again to make you at least talk to him.

However as time progressed and you got promoted into F3 and then F2, he was left only questioning what could had he have introduced himself differently on that fateful day.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Being 17 was quite an interesting age for what you did as a 'hobby' you thought. You were old enough to have shown your talent and solidified your place as a good driver. However, you were not old enough to actually be able to drive in Formula 2, per the Fia's age regulations (you were still upset that you missed out by only a few months).

You can't really remember what you thought when you heard that Logan Sargeant was being promoted to F2. Maybe a small "good on him" fluttered through your mind before quickly being squashed by a thought of "is he still the same?"

The awsner to that was no; he was not the same. He'd grown exponentially and now borderline towered over you. He actualy looked like he belonged on the scene- and had his eyes always been that dreamy? Wait, you couldn't get caught up in these thoughts.

For all you knew, he was still the young 14 year old boy that just stared when you excitedly first greeted him with your hand stuck out and a smile plastered on your face. Not unlike the one he had on now...

Huh?

You then actuly payed attention to your surroundings and now saw the American stood in front of you with his hand stuck out and a slight flush on his cheeks. "Uh, hi" he said breathlessly (almost like he had rushed to get to you before you had a chance to get away).

You gave him a glance up and down. "Hi." You raised your eyebrows and continued, "Can I help you?" His eyes almost lit up at your response. Almost like he was excited that the two of you were actualy holding a conversation after all these years.

"Yeah. I just wanted to apologise" He looked down as he said the last part. "Apologise for what exactly?" You countered. You knew what you wanted his response to be but whether he had conjured up something to apologise for that you were unaware of was beyond you.

"Well I'm not sure if you remember when we first met." Oh you remember. For some frustrating reason it had plagued your mind on many nights. "But you introduced yourself and I just kinda stood there and didn't say anything...like at all. And I've felt really bad about it for many years and I've tried to make up for it so man-" "Hey" you laughed at his clearly passionate yet worried rambling "It's fine. You've apologised. That's all that matters."

And there it was again. That same slack jawed expression that he sported all of those years ago. You almost had the urge to laugh at the obscurity of the situation or even roll your eyes when he mumbled out "That's all it took?" What was he talking about? "After all of these years That's all I needed to say?" Now he looked almost hurt...

"Well no." You spluttered out. Did your avoidance of him really have that much of an effect on him? "Well I mean..." Maybe your avoidance was a good thing if he reduces you to a spluttering mess after one conversion. You released a sigh of resignation and then apologised.

"Look I'm really sorry for how I reacted because clearly it wasn't enjoyable for either party." The last part made his eyebrows rise as you continued "I'm just so used to having that reaction for the wrong reasons so I never really gave you a chance to explain yourself. So, like I said, I'm sorry. Can we possibly start over again?"

That got him to smile and oh if it didn't make your heart flutter. You took his turned up lips as enough of an awnser and stuck your hand out like you did those many years ago and tried again. "Hi I'm Y/N Y/L/N. It's lovely to meet you." This mouth then split into a wide grin and at that you found yourself doing the same. "Well it's a pleasure to meet you Y/N. I've heart a lot about you."

"You didn't say your name!" Your fake whisper caused him to let out a breathy chuckle and he corrected himself. "My Bad, I'm Logan Sargeant, the newest driver." After you exchanged a handshake you began to giggle at the obscurity of the situation.

Four years ago you would have been appaled that you 'forgave' the man after just one conversation. But as he joined in in your laughter and the two of you became hunched over with giggling, you couldn't find it in you to care.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

I miss these 2.

As always, Likes, reblogs and especially feedback are always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection

[flemingsgirl]

Enough pt. 4

Finishing the two group stage games the Canadian team was back at zero points. But their journey is far from over. With another win against Columbia, they could advance to the quarter finals. The team keeps their hopes high, to counter the deduction and to make their fans proud.

Tension lingers in the stadium, the fans are engrossed in the game and on the edge, waiting for the important goal. Until the 61st minute the game was nerve wrecking, equal possession from each side, as well as shoots on the goal. A free kick from a position which bestowed the Canadian team several goals already. The linkup between Fleming and Gilles. Milliseconds before the ball hit the back of the net the fans leap up from their seats, arms thrown into the air, beer and other beverages hurtle through the air. Clasping their neighbour into one’s arms, shouting and cheering erupts in the stands. For the last thirty minutes not a single person sits down again. When the final whistle blows certainty and relief settles into the crowd as well as the players. The team hustles and embraces one another and shake hands with the opponent, praising their fight.

As the Canadians walk their lap around the stands Jessie’s eyes search the crowd for a special someone. Her face falls as she couldn’t find you anywhere; how so, you were an athlete as well, needing your practice and recovery. She puts the poker face on and steps over to the fans to take pictures or to sign autographs. The captain avoids eye contact with most of the people, only for pictures or to thank them for compliments. When she stops the next time, a child holds a jersey in front of her but that’s pushed into the background as a flirtatious and familiar voice fills the air. “Your smile is proof that the best things in life are free.”

When your eyes meet hers, you can see the breathtaking smile that adorns her face. She moves closer to the rail. “What are you doing here?” Jessie halts in her track fidgeting with the hem of her jersey, eyes avoiding your own. You lean over the rail and offer her an embrace. Jessie raises herself on the tiptoes to bring her arms around your figure. She takes deep breath and relaxes against your body.

Entangling yourself from Jessie to admire her, you shrug your shoulders. “Watching you play.”

Her eyes scan the surroundings, her lips twitch up and her hand rises towards you. As your hand rest in hers she intertwines them. As a response you present her a warm smile, eyes closed, and you squeeze her hand. “But what about your own?”

“On a short break.”

“Your knee?” you nod in agreement. “But why aren’t you with your team?”

“You did so well. Is your hamstring—"

“It’s alright. It twitched mostly overstretched but nothing a little break will heal. Tell meee.” She sways your hands back and forth.

“That sounds good. Appeasing. Off to the quarters.” You throw your other hand up and cheer, Jessie’s cheeks turn another reddish shape. “What a fate and how it turned out. You showed mentality, astonishing.”

“We’re a great team and a unit, pushing each other.”

Softly your thump caresses the skin of her hand, “Well without their captain they’d be lost,” you state firm.

Jessie rolls her eyes. “It’s a team effort and achievement.”

“Without your assist Gilles wouldn’t have scored.”

“Janine or Dri could’ve made that too.”

“Don’t play it down Jessie.” In a swift motion you try to release your hand from her but her grip on you gets tighter. “You can admit it sometimes.”

“I’m not that kind of player to take all the glory for myself.”

“But some doesn’t hurt anyone.” She grins cheesily, her eyes everywhere but not meeting yours.

Jessie clears her throat. “Will you wait for me?”

“Always.” She squeezes your hand before relinquishing the hold on your hand. You watch her take off into the direction of what you assume was her family. As you left the stands you don’t notice that Jessie turns around to glance at you, she crakes a smile and heat rise into her cheeks which still lingers on her face as she reached her parents and siblings.

Here you are again, waiting for Jessie by the exit of the player, fans gather around it wanting pictures or autographs. Your wait is brief when arms sling themselves from behind around your torso. “I thought about su—” you stop in tracks removing the arms from you. “You’re not Fleming,” you comment as you turn and face a beaming Janine Beckie. The woman has a fit of laughter, clutching her hands over her stomach. “Oh wow,” you roll your eyes as you huff, “let the war begin,” you rub your hand as Jessie comes into sight.

“I see you met Janine.”

Offering her the space between your arms the Canadian steps in them. “Yeah, was it her idea?” you feel how her fingers mess with the fabric of your shirt.

“Yes, absolute,” she chuckles nervously.

“I wouldn’t think you’d do that.” You break the embrace, but one arm remains on her shoulder. “Like I said before, I think we should get sushi.”

“I’d like that.”

“You didn’t tell me why you’re here and not with your team.”

You avoid her gaze, playing with the ring on your finger while biting the inside of your cheek. Jessie hands wanders over to yours and she rests it on top. “Avery suggested it…” you swallow hard. “Talking to our coaches maybe it’ll be the best for me. They were critical at first. Taxing me with letting the team down and so on. I told them how I feel, with your situation and the impact of my injury. They grasp the importance to be at your game and spent time with you.”

“This means a lot to me,” she squeezes your hand and brings it to her lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’m delighted to share those moments with you.”

Both of you inch closer to one another, mere centimetres separate you. “I could get lost in your eyes forever,” Jessie breathes into the air between you.

Closing the last space between you, you ghost your lips against hers before pulling back with a smug smirk. You could observe her chasing you desperately.

After seconds you mumble, “I’d invite you back to my flat but unfortunately I can’t and you’re not able to travel to Paris with me.”

“Make me.”

“Oh, I would.”

“Maybe I can invite you to my hotel room.”

“Of course.”

The two of you sit on Jessie’s bed. Your back pressed against the headboard as Jessie has her head rest in your lap. You run your fingers through her hair. Her hands play with your free one, fidgeting with the rings or drawing circles on your skin. “My parents have noticed...” Jessie pauses, turning in her spot, now glancing at you. “That my first point of call is someone else after the lap. Unintentional obvious.”

“Oh, is that bad?”

“No?” she furrows her brows. “I mean...” her hand reaches for the pendant on your necklace. “Is it for you?”

Your finger skim over her cheeks then her jaw. “It’s alright. What did they say?”

Something along the lines who’s she? And how long we’ve known each other. Like they just want to know who you are.”

“That’s valid. They care about you and are interested in your life and want to be a part of it. Your parents love you.”

Jessie spins the maple leaf between her thump and pointing finger. Her eyes settle on it as well, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “What’s wrong?” you brush a lose strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

“What are we?” her voice fragile, just above a whisper.

“Jess.”

“Please Y/N.”

You cup her cheek, caressing the skin with your thump. “You know it.”

“I need you to say it. I want to hear it.” You lean down and Jessie tilts her head slightly upward, but you connect your lips to her forehead, then her cheek followed by her nose, lastly the wrinkle of her mouth. Her lips form a small smile, and her eyes remain closed.

“You wanna waist the first weeks of butterflies and excitement while being apart and barely available for one another?” the Canadian shrugs her shoulder her face falls to the opposite of your body. “Hey,” you place your hand on her cheek and turn her face back to you. “It means a lot to you right?” her eyes stare into yours as she slowly nods in agreement. You could see how her eyes start to get watery. Leaning into her you place your lips as gentle as a feather brushing against her. When your lips meet it's like sparks of electricity travel through your veins. Your breaths mixing. “Well then, I think we can make this work out,” you mumble against her, feeling her lips turn up

[talesofourworlds]

"Lady Milla calls Jude what?!"

[evalevaeva]

Strangers | Sieun x reader

; in which Sieun values his academics over his partner.

warning: argument, breaking up, ignoring.

eva notes! : yo this kinda hit home a little.. :] enjoy

The day seemed like the usual days. Youngbin was busy messing with Sieun and you were sitting in the seat next to him. You took the chance to glance at your significant other next to you as his ears were filled with music and the tip of his pen busy on the notebook infront of him.

"Sieun, Sieun, Sieun!" You tried to whisper-shout to get his attention as he finally took off his earpieces and turned to you, his body language calm as he waited for you to continue.

"Isn't Miss Yeon returning the test papers from the weighted assessment tests the other day?" you asked him as he nodded, his eyes still as dull as when you first met him in school.

It definitely did not go unnoticed. His cold demeanour signalled that his stress levels were over the roof once again, and he definitely was not in the mood for Youngbin's shennanigans or anything happening today.

"Everyone, please return to your seats. Let's begin with checking our assessment papers," Ms Yeon began as she walked over to the podium at the front of the class with stacks of papers, marked with red ink and big numbers on the front, the total scores.

"Miss Yeon! Who got the highest score?" A voice questioned as another student scoffed loudly, "God, you're asking that as if Sieun hasn't topped the last 20 exams since we entered this school!".

Miss Yeon took a look at the stack of papers infront of her as she smiled.

"Actually, we have a new top scorer this examination, Y/N achieved the highest score for this assessment!" Miss Yeon said with a smile as a round of applause was heard.

You looked around, ears red as you'd never have expected to be the top scorer, much more against your own boyfriend.

That was until a bang was heard.

You turned to see Sieun, hands in fists as his eyes burned holes into your face. You've never seen him this angry before, even when Youngbin had thrown a sandal at him.

"Sieun, are you alright?" Miss Yeon asked as Sieun turned to her with a blank face, and responded plainly, "Yes Miss Yeon."

You ran up to catch up with your boyfriend after school as you realised he had left without you, walking to the cram school that you both entered back in your first year of high school.

"Sieun!" You shouted as you ran to reach him, but realised he had his earpieces in, causing him to not hear you. You tapped his shoulder but was met with no response as he continued walking as if you were never there, as if you never existed. You grabbed your phone from your skirt pocket and pressed on his contact on your phone.

"Sieun, are you mad? Let's talk it out?" You texted and sent the message as you followed behind him to the bus stop to the Cram School.

Even at Cram School, he blatantly ignored you as his eyes only switched between the notebook and the large blackboard at the front of the room, ignoring any signs of you trying to get his attention. You tapped his arm, tried to move his notebook, and tried to hold his hand, and still he did not respond. It was as if he changed overnight as it was. . . terrifying to say the least.

"Sieun!" You called out to him as he walked down the path from the cram school to the bus stop to go home.

You'd had enough of him ignoring you the whole day and act as if he didn't know you. This needed to stop.

"Sieun! Stop it." You stated as he stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you.

"What do you want?" He asked for the first time in the many hours you've spent together in school and cram school and all the time in between.

"You blatantly ignored me the whole day, and you have the audacity to ask me what I want? What's wrong with you? You ignored my messages, ignored me, ignored my existence, and treating me like trash. God, even trash would have to be picked up and discarded," you spoke as he stared blankly at you, as if he was, bored.

"You did this," He stated as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Did what exactly?" You questioned as his gaze became sharp.

"You knew. You knew that this was everything I had. My studies, my grades, they're all I have. Yet, you take them away from me like you don't even know me," He spat out as your jaw dropped from the absolute audacity he had to say what he said.

"You think I chose to score higher than you? Well, sorry, mister arrogant, but I studied just as hard as you did, and you knew that. Just because I scored higher than you in one assessment, it gives you the right to treat me like garbage? You're insane," you responded as you tried to remove your gaze from the stranger in front of you.

"Let's break up." Sieun stated as your eyes widened.

"Just like that?" You questioned as he turned, not bothering to answer your question at all.

He wasn't worth it anyway, right? That's what you tried to tell yourself for the next 4 weeks as days passed by like hell. You requested Miss Yeon to change your seat, away from Yeon Sieun. You did not want to associate yourself with such a jerk, and your academics shouldn't suffer because of a piece of trash like him.

A new student joined the class, and soon, Sieun was buddies with Sooho and Beomseok. Maybe a month ago, it would hurt seeing him having company with other people other than you, but now you were strangers, nothing more.

[seasidesandstarscapes]

Bite

Summary: They're playing Bobby's old team.

Between worry and anger, Don doesn't know which one will win out.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Hockey AU, Angst, Major Character Injury, Protective Don Hume, Car Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2671

A/N: for @sparrow-in-the-field !! thank you for sending me this idea, it was fun and emotional to write shdfajskdl

-

AO3

or

There is a change to Bobby. 

Don can’t put his finger on it. It’s only been a week after all. Maybe it was the last game they played. They didn’t lose, but the talking they got from Ulbrickson was jarring at best. And Don knows as much as Bobby respects Ulbrickson, more often than not, they’re at odds. 

That doesn’t seem quite the problem however. From stilted smiles to short conversations, Bobby is somewhere else. No matter what Don says, all he gets is a wave, a reassurance that all is well. The helplessness carves into his chest and Don just wants Bobby to tell him the truth. 

Dinner is a quiet affair and when they’re in bed, watching a movie, Don finally tries again.

“You okay?”

Bobby is slow to turn from the TV, brows already furrowed. “Yes…? Why?”

Don shrugs, takes Bobby’s hand in his own. “You just seem a little off is all. Like something is on your mind.”

The sigh that leaves Bobby is drawn out, tinged with a hint of nervousness. “Have you looked at the schedule lately?” 

Don shakes his head. He doesn’t mean to lose track of games, but when it’s one right after the other, they tend to get lost in the shuffle. 

“We’re playing my old team soon.”

Don’s jaw tightens and he pulls Bobby close. Suddenly, Joe’s newfound attachment to Bobby makes sense. This day was bound to come, but Don worries that no one on the team is ready to handle what might be thrown at Bobby.

“Please don’t defend my honor or anything like that,” Bobby looks right in Don’s eyes. “Not that I wouldn’t appreciate it, but as much as I hate to admit it, Peterson is a damn good forward and we need you on the ice.”

A small sigh leaves Don. Bobby is right. If they want to sweep the game, they’ll have to be on their best behavior. No matter the anger that boils low in Don’s gut.

“Okay,” he nods. 

The corner of Bobby’s mouth twitches, a struggle to smile as the silence edges in. 

“I’m not going to let the puck get anywhere close to you,” Don promises. 

“I’m holding you to that.”

Don tilts Bobby’s head up, brings him into a soft kiss. Bobby’s sigh is heavy and Don just wishes he could take on every little thing that eats at Bobby. If only Bobby could never hurt again.

Bobby’s eyes are slow to open when the kiss ends and Don looks on with fondness. Entrancing doesn’t even begin to describe how Bobby looks, the way Don’s heart stutters. 

With a scowl, Bobby’s face turns red and he mumbles something under his breath. Don laughs at this, pulls Bobby onto him. The two adjust so Bobby is sitting on his lap and facing him. 

This earns him a quirked eyebrow, a sly grin, and Don knows the night has only just begun.

~

The locker room is tense. 

Any chatter is quiet, short. There is a cloud hanging in the air and Don chooses to focus on his stall. 

“Alright, boys,” Bobby clambers in, all dressed and ready to go. “I don’t want a single one of you in the penalty box.”

There are glances exchanged, a few nods. Joe’s mouth opens but before he can speak Bobby stops him. 

“Rantz,” he warns. “I know you’ve got some personal beef too, but what’ll really put them in their place is not letting them score a single goal. I know you boys can do it and I’ll be dead before I let a single puck get past me.”

“We’ve got your back, Bobby,” Roger reassures and the first smiles start to show. 

As tempting as it is to pull Bobby into a kiss, Don lets him leave the locker room with the first of the guys trailing behind. Throwing on the rest of his gear, Don is quick to follow, the mouth guard clamped tight between his teeth. His anger is unfamiliar, but he lets it settle deep inside, ready to jump only when necessary. 

The pre-game, the face-off is a flurry. Don is looking into smirking faces, catches a few choice insults when the ref is distracted. If his grip on his stick doesn’t snap it in half, slamming it into Peterson’s face will. 

But, Don does as Bobby asks. He doesn’t cave in to his emotions, keeps his head high. With Shorty and Joe with him, they’re a force to be reckoned with. Only once does Chuck have to get the puck out of Bobby’s zone. 

Then, one of the other players does the unthinkable. Don isn’t close enough, he doesn’t even see it happen until he hears Chuck’s shout. The game comes to a halt and Don scrambles over to Bobby. He’s on his hands and knees, head hanging low. His breaths are haggard and Don falls next to him, arm around his shoulder.

“He decked him!” Chuck yells at the ref. “His neck practically snapped in half!”

The ref is trying to calm Chuck and Don leans in close to Bobby. “What happened?”

“What Chuck said,” Bobby grimaces. “Fuck, I feel dizzy.”

Before Don can yell for Ulbrickson, he’s already there, kneeling on the other side of Bobby. 

“Let’s get you off the ice.”

“No!” Bobby shoves Ulbrickson and Don away, only to lose his balance. He falls against Don and winces. “I can do it, Coach.”

“Like hell you are,” Ulbrickson takes hold of Bobby’s arm. 

Bobby looks to Don for help, but Don has to take Ulbrickson’s side. It’ll be better to have Morry and take their chances than Bobby getting worse. 

With a frustrated groan, Bobby lets himself be taken off the ice. Don just wants to follow, but he stays rooted, gives Morry a nod as he takes his spot in front of the net. 

“Moch has you all eating out of the palm of his hand, doesn’t he?” 

Don turns to the voice, teeth grinding into the mouth guard. He gives an even stare to his opponent, hates the amused smile on the other man’s face.

“He must really be putting out this year. Got a pretty little mouth, doesn’t he?”

Don’s anger spikes but seeing Shorty hold Joe back out of the corner of his eye quells his fire.

“Yeah. Too bad you don’t get to have it anymore,” Don bites back. 

He skates to his position as the ref and coaches try to regain order. Don was determined to put their rivals in their place before, but now he wants them absolutely decimated. His boys match his energy and Don fights and fights. 

They win by a landslide and Bobby, now much better, pulls Don into a hug, almost sending him head over heels into the box. 

The locker room is full of energy in the aftermath and after Bobby’s reassurance that all he’ll have is a sore neck the next day, everyone splits off in their respective groups to rest for the evening. Outside of the locker room, Don throws his arm around Bobby’s shoulders as they walk down the hall. Bobby is already going a mile a minute, praising Don, gushing about Jim’s little trick that turned the other team on their heads. 

Don is just ready to cuddle with Bobby, but it seems life has other ideas. The hall is blocked with Peterson at the front, several other players around him, loud and joking. It’s their only way out and Don holds Bobby closer to him.

“Well, look who it is,” one of the guys calls out. “How’re you doing, Bobby?”

Bobby ignores it and Don tries to make a path for them. 

“Don’t be like that,” another attacks. “Come back to our hotel. Let’s make some more memories.”

Don’s heart breaks when Bobby flinches, but they keep pressing on. They’re outnumbered though he knows he and Bobby have a fighting chance. 

“How can you be with him, knowing what he does? He’s just a slut.”

They were almost free, but this is the last straw. Don turns on his heel, faces the rivals head on. 

“Don,” Bobby tries to stop him. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Defend the guy with the sex channel,” Peterson grins.

“You mean the channel that bought our penthouse apartment? Or are you referring to the fact that both of us are debt free?” Don is a charging bull and he doesn’t give the other men a chance to get a word in. “Not to mention how not a single one of you could score on him when he was in the net. Don’t know how you got into the leagues. And while you’re jerking off your useless dicks, I get to have amazing sex with the man you’ll never lay your hands on again. So, shut up before I knock out the last of your teeth.”

Grabbing Bobby, Don drags them out to the sanctuary of the parking lot. There’s no following footsteps but Don still makes sure the doors are locked when he and Bobby get into his car. 

“Sorry,” Don mutters before pulling out of the lot. 

Bobby is quiet their entire drive home and Don’s mind curses him. He just snapped, couldn’t stop the outpouring. It felt good to say all those things, but it might’ve been too much. He might have hurt Bobby.

When they get to their parking space, Don turns off the car and makes no move to get out. Bobby still hasn’t said a thing. 

“Bobby, I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

Don is slammed back into his seat with Bobby climbing on top of him and he crashes their mouths together. 

“Fuck, that was so hot, Donny,” Bobby pants between open kisses. “I wanted to fuck you right in front of them.”

Shock doesn’t begin to cover it, but Don returns Bobby’s passion all the same. He’s given no time to think as Bobby works open his jeans and he’s only shaken from his stupor when the car horn blares. 

“Shit,” Bobby leans forward. 

Don just laughs, pulls the seat lever so he can lay back to give Bobby some more space. Bobby grins and throws open the console where they keep lube just for occasions like these. He’s all over the place, about to grab the bottle before he’s trying to get his own jeans off. His sweater gets tossed into the back, but he keeps his shirt on as he finally frees himself from his jeans and underwear. Don barely has time to shove his boxers out of the way before Bobby is already stretching himself. 

So impatient he can be sometimes, but Don is endeared nonetheless. His hands trail up under the white shirt and he drags his nails along Bobby’s spine. Bobby whines at this, bites his lower lip as he shoves three fingers deep inside. 

It must hurt, but the smile Bobby gives Don isn’t pained at all. Instead, it steals Don’s breath away and he forgets himself. 

When Bobby lines up with his cock, Don just wants to shove all the way in. He needs to be consumed by every inch of this man. Never know a day’s rest without him. As if reading his mind, Bobby slams down pulling heady groans from both men. 

“Bobby,” Don’s head falls back against the seat. 

“Yeah, such a good boy for me,” Bobby breathes. He has one hand braced on Don’s chest, the other on the window. “So good.”

“Anything for you,” Don confesses. 

Bobby leans down to kiss him then. Don soars, sparks fly from his mind to his fingertips. Bobby is more than just his boyfriend. He’s both the storm and the calmness afterwards. He’s a kiss in the rain, the snow that melts in his hands. 

Don could cry at how lucky he is. 

When Bobby moves to lift his hips, Don sighs with all the love inside of him. He meets Bobby halfway and their bodies collide as they fall further into their hunger. Don can’t help but stare, locking his gaze with Bobby’s while he rubs a thumb along his lips, red and bruised.

“Touch me, Don, please,” Bobby begs, his hand fisting into Don’s shirt. 

He can’t say no to that. Don reaches for Bobby’s cock, stroking with a featherlight grip. It pulls a whimper out of Bobby and Don does it again just to hear that beautiful sound. 

Don can’t focus on just one part of Bobby. From his tight hole to his weeping cock, hair falling into his face, Bobby is a masterpiece. The parking lot is dark, but Don can still see Bobby’s eyes shine, blue like a diamond in the ocean.

Lost in ecstasy, Don squeezes Bobby’s sides, makes him cry out again and again. Bobby is almost there, his mouth dropping open, gasping, struggling for a single breath. Watching him fall apart is enough to drive Don over the edge, but he needs to see Bobby come. Needs to have his very being poured into him.

Bobby spills over Don with little warning and his moan shakes the car. It takes just a moment for Bobby to collect himself before he keeps moving on Don’s cock. Bobby teases him with slow drags, clenching his hole, but it’s more than enough.

“Bobby,” Don chokes out, slamming into Bobby, two, three more times before his own release crashes into him. 

Bobby falls on top of Don and the two hold onto each other as if this is their last moment together. The car seals them off from the rest of the world, a solitude so difficult to find some days.

“I love you. I love you so much,” Bobby whispers. 

Wetness falls against Don’s neck and in his worry, he pulls Bobby’s face into his hands. Bobby is crying, refusing to look Don in the eye. Don’s stomach sinks and he doesn’t know what’s broken.

He wipes at Bobby’s tears and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Bobby?”

It’s a tense moment as Bobby hiccups, mouth opening, but no sound coming out. Don can only hold his face, hoping his touch is some reassurance.

Bobby takes a slow breath, shaking and shallow, and his voice strains. “I don’t deserve you.”

Don doesn’t know what to say. He brushes Bobby’s hair from his face, keeps catching his tears. He would repeat his love over and over if it would be of any help. Before Don can, however, Bobby speaks up again.

“But I’m so happy, god, I’m so lucky I have you.”

Pulling Bobby back into a hug, Don squeezes him tight, rubs his shoulders. “You deserve the world, Bobby. I’m going to make sure you have it.”

Bobby sniffs, kisses the crook of Don’s neck. “You’ve given me that. All that and more.”

Don isn’t sure he’s earned such high praise. It’s Bobby who’s forged this new life for them. He’s the one that washes all of Don’s doubts away. But for Bobby, Don can convince himself that he’s done alright. 

After a few more minutes of just soaking in each other, Bobby finally opens the driver’s door. “Suppose we better,” he says as he peels himself off Don. 

He steps out, unashamed of his appearance as he grabs his discarded clothes from the back seat. Don’s thankful for the quiet parking lot as he takes off his stained hoodie and he waits for Bobby to pull on his jeans and shoes before they head to the elevators. 

Their hands are interlaced the entire way up and when they enter their apartment, Don tugs Bobby into one last kiss. They’re utterly exhausted, they’ll have to talk more in the morning, but for now, they can rest. 

As they crawl into bed, Bobby tucks himself into Don, arm wrapping around his waist. The warmth seeps into Don and he breathes, the world starting to make a little more sense. 

Bobby is his, to love and cherish, and he’ll be damned if anyone takes that away. 

[captain-mj]

Monsterhandler part 4? :3

I can’t help but speculate. Is Simon not being able to shift back maybe a stress response??

Oh i can definitely do that!!! So excited about the number of asks I've gotten for it!! Previous part here

Soap had spent years trying to work with... Their technical term was ESUs but that was a boring name. The other soldiers had casually called them monsters or freaks, but he didn't want to use those terms. He had seen the way they flinched when that got thrown around. Though, he doubted something like that would ever rattle Ghost of all people. The guy was tough. Big, bad and almost indestructible with a track record to put most units to shame by himself.

The SAS had been a wonderful achievement, but being a handler had always been the main goal. Ghost had been right. This had been a chance for career development. Though, exciting didn't begin to cover it. This was it. It was perfect. Especially since it was Ghost.

Except Ghost did not seem very willing to work with him. Which was fair, he had been with Price a few years.

Soap sighed and started to reread his file for... who knows how many times. It started with Simon [REDACTED]'s achievements. Excellent sniping record, extremely high amount of kills for such a short period of time, third best time for the military drill tests his scores from where he aced simulated investigations. Then his deployment ended and he went back home to a giant [REDACTED] though it took five minutes of talking to the guy to know he was from Manchester. There was a large section blacked out before getting to where he was found. Apparently he was just... found like that.

Defective was actually in bold. Huh. Soap hadn't really noticed before.

Pictures of his body were there. The scarring looked... intense. Most of his body either covered in scarring or bandaging. His wings... They looked gorgeous.

Ghost wasn't too bad himself. He was so tall and broad shouldered. The photos were strategic, never showing his face. Soap felt pretty disappointed by that.

There were a list of restrictions that had caught him off guard.

Don't let him be alone for long periods of time

Keep him muzzled

Keep his wings bound

Don't allow him off base without supervision

Don't allow him alone with recruits

Don't allow him alone with medication

Do not expose him to Christmas lights.

Soap had been under the impression he'd be dealing with a feral monster trying to kill anything and everything. But Ghost was... something else. When they had first met, he had already known he'd be getting Ghost. Despite that, he didn't make a comment on it. He hadn't been aware that Ghost was uninformed, so that was a smart move. If Ghost had found out on the field, Soap doubted he would've made it back. A simple accident in the field. A bullet that came from nowhere. Or maybe his body just never would've turned up. Soap chose to not take that knowledge personally.

Ghost had been interesting. Brushed him off and only really paid attention to him if Soap initiated first or he needed to give him an order. All in all, it had been... informative.

The Christmas lights part of the restrictions caught him off guard. Why the fuck couldn't he be around Christmas lights? Worried he'd strangle himself with them??

Soap sighed and put the file away. It wouldn't do any good to keep going over it. There was nothing new or useful in it. He stretched and got up to get himself a cup of coffee. To do so, he didn't have to pass Ghost's room. In fact, it was really out of his way to even go in the same general direction, but he still went by his room. Ghost's room was completely silent, so Soap knocked.

Ghost answered almost immediately and Soap almost stumbled when the door opened. Besides his mask and gloves, he didn't have his other stuff on. His wings were out, fluttering behind him and Soap could see his ears perk up through holes in his ski mask. They were a soft blond color. His hair was probably blond too. Weird considering his feathering, usually they matched.

"It's almost midnight." Ghost commented. He stared down at him. Another thing Soap had noticed about Ghost was the staring. It would be predatory if it wasn't so clear that's just how he was. Then, it became almost endearing.

Maybe he was drowsier than he thought. To think this mo- To think Ghost was cute.

"Yeah. You want a cup of coffee?" Soap asked, smiling at him. Goddamn he was pretty.

Ghost stared at him for a minute before crossing his arms. "I don't drink coffee."

"Tea then?" He was a Brit. They all liked tea.

"Sure."

Hook, line and fucking sinker.

Soap walked with him to the mess hall. Because of how late it was, no one was around. Most people respected the whole lights out at 9 pm thing. Good to know his... God he needed to think of something to call him. His Ghost he guessed. His Ghost also didn't care about them.

They could hang out whenever.

He turned the kettle and the coffee machine on. Ghost perched on the counter immediately. His bulk made it look rather funny, though without all the gear he looked slightly more human sized. Slightly.

Tattoos covered his right arm though. Skulls and flames. What a dorky sleeve. He looked up and saw that he had been caught staring.

"Johnny, right?"

"Ah. You looked through my file." Good to know you're just like me. He wanted to ask how many times he read it.

"Yes. Don't get why they thought we'd be a good fit. You locked a military police in his trunk." Ghost sounded amused, but his eyes didn't give anything away. They were so human. Soft and brown. It was unnerving.

"What you a bleeding heart for the police?"

"Nah. Can't stand them."

Soap smiled. "Ever get arrested?"

"Once. Got off easy." Ghost grabbed the kettle since it started to whistle. He poured the water in the mug on top of the teabag. The smell of vanilla filled the air like perfume.

"Aye. You seem like the type."

"Dick." Ghost looked at him for a moment, staring hard and Soap quickly turned around. He fixed the cup of coffee and drank it for a moment.

"Can I turn around now?"

"Nah, appreciate the view." Soap felt a blush creeping up his neck at the implication. "Your hair sucks less from the back." Nevermind.

"And you called me a dick." Soap mumbled, drinking his coffee.

Ghost laughed. It was… melodious. Soap wanted to turn around to see if he could catch him.

“Johnny.” Ghost’s voice had a growl to it. A lot of them did, it just wasn’t noticeable when they were relaxed. Soap wondered if Ghost was just never relaxed or if it was part of him being defective. He really wished he knew why. It wasn't a problem for him, but it clearly was for Ghost.

Soap went to say Simon before deciding he didn’t want to do that. They were having fun. He settled on copying his tone. “Ghost…”

Ghost sighed. “I want to get it out of the way, you understand?”

“Get what out of the way?”

“What do you plan to do to me? What do you consider punishment for me?” Ah. Fair question he supposed.

“It’s like you said.” Soap answered, getting the urge to be gentle with him. He wondered what Price considered punishment before deciding he didn't want to know, worried he'd come out thinking less of the man. “You’re not feral. I don’t need to treat you like a dog."

Ghost was very quiet for a minute before Soap felt a weight on the top of his head as Ghost patted him. “You’re a good one. That’s nice.” His hand was huge. Claws gently running over Soap’s hair. Sharp ends that could cut through his skin easily. He hadn't noticed it before but it was obvious now. The gloves he thought Ghost was wearing was his skin. It felt normal but it was stained a black color like it had been tattooed. His fingertips trailed along the back of his head to his neck. 

“Alright, Johnny. I’ll work with you for now. But one wrong move.” His hand suddenly wrapped around Soap’s throat. Extremely gentle, not an ounce of pressure. But a threat nonetheless. “You understand?”

Soap tilted his head back just a little, letting Ghost’s hand settle a little more firmly on his throat. “I understand.” He knew for a fact that Ghost wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Killing his handler wouldn’t be good for him. But he wanted Ghost to trust him. Fuck it. He wanted Ghost to like him.

Ghost squeezed carefully, making sure that he cut off blood flow but not his actual breathing, before letting go.

Soap counted to 10 before he turned around. Ghost was gone. The mug sat in the sink.

Soap sipped his coffee.

A very exciting career development indeed.

[petit-papillion]

FP1:

Several drivers already cutting it very close to the barriers and ripping off advertising.

ZHO ripped off more than that and lost his end plate.

Which Charles promptly drove over and then got it stuck under his car, before a red flag could be called to clean up the debris.

Pierre was having PU issues and ended up being able to put in only a handful of laps

P1: HAM | P2: PIA | P3: RUS

FP2: Charles was 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 !!

P1: LEC / P2: HAM / P3: ALO

FP3:

Charles was again on fire and finished at the top of the list. I honestly can't recall anything else happening!

P1: LEC / P2: VER / P3: HAM

Quali:

In Q1 plastic from advertising had wrapped around Charles's front wing end plate, messing up the aerodynamics and leading to much slower laps than anticipated.

Shock exit for PER as he placed P18 with only the Saubers behind him.

GAS managed to make it to Q3 much to Pierre's delight as he was shouting on the radio when told he was P5 in Q2. Teammate OCO ended in P11.

Bad luck seemed to follow Charles again as he reported something moved in the pedals, but he still took provisional pole.

Another super lap in the final stages of Q3 gave Charles his third pole in Monaco with an incredible 1:10:27.

Haas drivers HUL and MAG qualified P12 and P15 respectively, but ended up getting disqualified because they changed their wing and did no measure the height correctly. This meant a pit lane start for both of them.

Petit's Race Notes:

Ah, where to begin? Oh, I know!

CHARLES LECLERC WINS THE 2024 MONACO GRAND PRIX!!!!!!

Fingers and toes crossed at the start, but Charles was quick off the line. But behind him chaos unfolded...

Carlos bumped into Oscar and got himself a puncture which led to a yellow flag.

Next Checo and Kevin collided as K-Mag tried to squeeze through and Perez did not give him any space. PER hit the wall, got hit by MAG again, and then HUL also got hit for good measure.

The end result was that PER's car was reduced to the survival cell, debris was scattered all over the race track, both Haas's were out, and we had a 45-minute red flag for clean up and barrier repairs.

Meanwhile elsewhere on track OCO drove into GAS launching himself in the air and damaging both Alpines in the process. Gasly's car was repairable, but Ocon was out. He also received a 5-place grid penalty for Montreal and 2 points on his license. And Alpine is even rumoured to be considering having him sit out the next race...

With the red flag thrown before all cars entered sector 2, the order was reset for a second start.

Which meant Carlos (who'd been able to make it back to the garage) started again in P4, and Charles had to have another good start to keep his position.

This time all went well, and we were in for 75 laps of anxiety (Charles fans) / boredom (everyone else).

George (in mediums) backed up the pack, so it was 🔴🟡🔴🟡 at the front (McLarens in their special yellow Senna livery).

ALO led his usual DRS train - under the assumption he was P10 (found out after the finish that he was actually P11).

The remaining 16 (!!!) cars all made it to the finish line without further incidents.

Pierre Gasly scored his first point of the season.

There were only 6 pit stops the entire race.

After much nail biting and some lovely team radio sound bites, Charles came across the finish line and FINALLY won his home Grand Prix! 🙌

Not a dry eye in the house at the podium celebrations! The royal family was elated, with Prince Albert II crying, Charles's football buddies pumping their fists in the air, and the Prince also getting in on the champagne spraying.

Oscar was the only non-Ferrari man on the podium, but having been recently "adopted" by Charles, he was part of the family!

Watching on below the podium: girlfriend Alex, Mum Pascale, brothers Lorenzo (with girlfriend Charlotte) and Arthur, Joris, John Elkann, Andrea, Nicolas Todt, and the entire Ferrari team, with Ale lifting the P1 sign over his head! The Monaco/Italy anthem combo hadn't sounded like this since Monza 2019! 😍

Charles has already told Bryan over team radio that he wanted everyone to stay for celebrations, and celebrate they did - well into the night!

Fred and Charles also made good on their agreement to jump into the harbour (originally from 2018 when it was about scoring points).

Charles continues his streak of top 4 finishes this season, and is now only 31 points behind Max in the WDC.

Top 3: P1: LEC | P2: PIA | P3: SAI

Fastest lap: Lewis Hamilton

Driver of the Day: Charles Leclerc

Fastest pit stop: Red Bull/Max Verstappen (2:10)

📷 Scuderia Ferrari, F1

[ginnyw-potter]

I like a challenge Written for @hinnymicrofic, prompt 20: Rush (1000 words, I don't know what happened.)

Professional Quidditch players for opposing teams AU Also on AO3

He should have been looking at the snitch, really. Yet something else bright kept catching his eyes, namely the red-headed Holyhead Harpies Chaser. She was fast, agile, and flew through the air like it was second nature with the Quaffle under her arm. He was captivated by her, or that’s at least that’s what the papers would write the following day.

As Seeker he has no business keeping track of the other team’s Chasers, he just needed to know the score. But he was glad that day he had been looking at her. She had just thrown the Quaffle through the hoops of his team, distracted by scoring when a Bludger hit her in the head. She was several metres below him and he watched as her eyes rolled back into her head and she slowly dropped sideways as she went unconscious. Harry didn’t hesitate one second. He immediately rushed down as she tumbled to the ground, attempting to race gravity. With a curve in his flight path, he ended below her and stretched his arms out to catch her, his own legs tightening on his broom to keep them both upright. She landed in his arms, still unconscious and he flew to the ground, where Healers immediately rushed to them and took her off his arms. He watched worriedly as they carried her away and didn’t stop looking until she was out of sight, forgetting that the game above him continued. 

She sat at the kitchen table at The Burrow, taking turns sipping tea and taking gulps of the horrid potion the Healers had given her to recover from her head trauma. She examined the table without much interest, refusing to look anyone in the eye. In the same way she had refused to know the outcome of the match. She didn’t want to know how badly they had lost. 

“Dear,” her mother said softly and Ginny bit back an objection to anything her mother wished to say. “Your saviour is here to see you.”

Ginny moaned loudly. “Please don’t call him that. I don’t want to see the pathetic Potter prat.” 

“You’re welcome,” a voice said, a man’s voice she had only heard a few times. “Nice alliteration, I guess that means you don’t have lasting brain damage.” 

Her head shot up and her eyes met the gorgeous green eyes she had been distracted by after scoring her goal. The handsome Seeker stood in the kitchen, her mother beaming up at the poor guy. 

“Do you want tea? I just made some,” she offered Seeker Potter. 

“That would be lovely… Mrs Weasley is it?” he said with a charming smile. 

Her mother chuckled. “It’s Molly for you, dear.” She handed him a mug, told him where the sugar was and then promptly left the kitchen though she had been in the middle of preparing dinner.

“Come to gloat?” she asked. Potter looked at her with so much confusion that she promptly glared at him. 

“Actually came to see if you were alright. I went to the infirmary but you had already gone home,” he said, sitting down beside her with his mug as if he belonged there. 

Potter prat, Potter prat, Potter prat, she chanted to herself. Potter prat with the gorgeous eyes and the charming smile and the soft arms she had felt in a semi-conscious state.

“I don’t know why you aren’t happier, you scored the winning goal,” the Potter prat said. Realisation dawned on his face. “You don’t know. The Harpies won.”

She looked at him in surprise. “What?” 

A blush crept up his cheeks. “I didn’t see the Snitch because I was looking at you.” He looked down at his mug. “I caught you and your Seeker got the Snitch instead.”

“Pathetic,” she muttered. 

“Yes, pathetic Potter, you’ve said. Please can you call me Harry? I am sure you can find a word to go with that too.” 

Handsome Harry, handsome– fuck. She felt her cheeks burn. “How can you miss the Snitch, it was right by your ear?” she said. 

“How would you have known that if you didn’t know the outcome…” His eyes lit up. “Unless you were looking at me…” He looked far too smug. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snipped. 

“Potter, could I interest you in dinner? For saving my daughter?” her mum butted in eagerly. 

“I certainly wouldn’t mind. My whole team isn’t talking to me you see,” he said, and he turned back to Ginny. “They said my focus was on the wrong thing.” He took up his tea again. “I was just more worried about you than the game I suppose.” 

She resisted rolling her eyes. “Don’t say such things in the proximity of my mother, she’ll have us married by dessert.”

Harry snorted into his tea, sending droplets of tea over the rim of the mug. He wiped his chin. “Who knew this season’s most eligible Chaser was that easy of a catch? But then I suppose I did catch you.” 

She hummed softly. “I’d skip dessert if I were you. I’m not kidding my mum–” She stopped as her mum appeared again. 

“Do you like treacle tart?” Mrs Weasley asked as she popped her head in again. “Or something else? I could whip something else up…” 

“Treacle tart is my favourite, actually,” he told her and she disappeared again. 

Harry looked back at her, meeting her glare. “What?” he said innocently. “It is!” 

“You’ve committed to dessert... I warned you.” She shook her head. 

“So, Ginny is it?” he asked casually. “Better be on a first-name basis if you are to be Mrs Pathetic Potter.” He grinned and something fluttered in her stomach. Must be the concussion. 

She looked him up and down as if she was thinking about it. “Harry,” she said huskily. “You couldn’t handle me” She leaned towards him to tease him. 

His face came closer to hers, eyes flitting to her lips before he locked eyes with hers. “I like a challenge.”