#and I'm still hoping for a great final season
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justin-chapmanswers · 2 days ago
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Hey Justin! Quick question (okay maybe not so quick after I write this),
What are you and the other guys’s (Adam and Brian) thoughts and plans after you release II S2 E18? Are you planning to do anything with the characters after it?
What are your thoughts on (I don’t want to say ending oh my goodness) finishing? this season. Is there going to be anything else or are you just done for good. (NOT IN A MEAN WAY IM SORRY)
I’m just curious since I’ve been hyperfixating on II for a while now, and I’ve been working up courage to just ask my idol a quick thing but AAAGGGHHH WHO KNEW HOW SCARY IT IS.
Anyways, I hope you’re having a great day or night, and hope you aren’t overwhelmed or overworking yourself.
AAAGAGGHHHH BYEEE STAY SAFE HUBFRBFHURBFHURDR
- 💙 Queer ahh anon (OKAY IM SORRYHUCNFUHFR)
Hihi! Thank you for the sweet words.
Unfortunately I can't give a clear answer right now, because it's so up-in-the-air. We've thrown around ideas for II and non-II things. It really comes down to what inspires us most after this season has wrapped. If there's a big II story still to tell, we'll tell it. If something else calls to us, then we'll turn in that direction.
I don't have a lot of time to search it out, but I'm sure there must be at least one or two asks on this subject from a long time ago in which I responded with like "it would definitely be a very different world after this season" and I'm sure you can see why already haha.
I would be sad if I had to say bye to II forever after this, though. Whether or not there's anything more, season two's finale is written so that it could be an ending. So we'll seeeee.
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donutfloats · 19 hours ago
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Wait, are The Fox And Ratau's friendship the "friendship turned mutually destructive that will never heal because neither can trust the other as they once did" variety of The Farmer and The Snake tale or are they the "trusting person helps someone in need, only to be betrayed once their help is no longer required" variety?
I'm pretty sure it's the latter, because yk its the Fox we're talking about, but can't never be to sure considering googling it will lead you to both versions of the tale, so that's why Im asking lol
Both if I were to be honest!
They were friends at one point, sharing similar situations (fucked over by gods)
The Fox however was using Ratau to get to the Red Crown, as it’s the only crown left that he has not tasted
Problem is that he maybe sorta kinda caught actual feelings, and started to care about the Rat, but when Ratau discovered The Fox’s plan he cut off contact entirely to them
So present day The Fox requests to eat Ratau with the thought that it’s because he’s the only being he can eat now that has a connection to the Red Crown, but really he still has feelings for Ratau and wants him close again
They were not healthy for eachother because of their relationship being built off of their dislike of the other gods
The Fox is basically in complete denial of how they feel, while Ratau has trust issues and deals with it by devoting himself entirely to The Red Crown
What would happen if Fox ate Ratau though?
My idea is below the cut (cw emetophobia, only mention of it)
So to explain why Fox would have this reaction I’m about to describe I have to quickly explain Fox’s motives for why they want to eat someone that’s related to The Red Crown
In my au Fox, when they were a mortal, was alive during The Great War. They saw gods die, homes burn, fields wither and seasons stop entirely
There was an intense famine during this time, perhaps a tactic used by Heket to dwindle the numbers of opposing cultists. Fox was amongst those starving
Desperate times called for desperate measures, so Fox ate the corpse of a dead god
It wasn’t the first time they had to eat a person, they were starving after all so there were plenty of bodies to pick from for a time, but the bodies rotted away and there were fewer every day. So when they found the body of a dead god they jumped at the opportunity
They discovered that it had a taste to it, something completely unique that made it stand out from mortal flesh- and he liked it
That’s how it started, every time he found a dead god, he’d eat their body. Time would pass, the fields would grow plentiful again, but The Fox still craved more of the godly flesh
So they made it their goal to taste every crown bearer, and if they couldn’t eat the crown bearer- they’d eat their disciple instead, ones who have consumed their gods blood and now had it course through their veins
That is why they wanted the Red Crown, it is the last one, the final course
With that explanation of Fox’s motives, this is what would happen if they were given Ratau and ate him:
Fox would discover that the Red Crown’s flesh tasted of… nothing. No bitterness, sweetness, sourness- hell they would have taken rotten
But it didn’t taste of anything, and they’re devastated about this
All this time, all this waiting, even eating the one person who ever cared for them- it was for NOTHING
So that sends Fox into a melt down, they want to take back what they had done, so they throw up what ever remains of Ratau
All that’s left is bones
That’s why you never see Fox again after handing Ratau to him, as he sits at the spot he spat Ratau up at. Having made a pitiful shrine with what ever remained of his body, and sits there: in denial of what he has done, hoping maybe Ratau will come back to life again one day like he always did when he was a Vessel
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geekgirl101 · 3 days ago
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More 8x06 thoughts. Still processing
I've been trying to express my feelings about 8x06 on paper, and there's still so much swirling in my head. So apologies if this is too long and ranty.
The GA isn't happy for a lot of reasons. One was that Tommy did fit with the 118, he was friends with Eddie and Chim. Two: they were happy Buck was in a relationship, and it seemed like (at least in season 7) that he was finally off the hamster wheel. And they like Eddie and Buck's friendship and don't want to see them together. After all the BS takes I've seen from you-know-whos, I can't say I disagree at all.
It's like neither Buck nor the writers have learned anything from past love interests. Tommy is the one with the most potential because of how well he fits, and he clearly has a lot of abandonment issues. Hey, so does Buck. That could have been a great point to explore.
I don't think Buck needs to sleep around to explore himself. But I do think Buck never fully processed anything.
It's wild that Buck and Tommy dated for six months and NEVER had any real conversations about exes? Tommy does strike me as the kind of person who keeps people at arm's length, who maybe doesn't say much about his past unless he has to. He could have also held back because he was letting Buck set the pace. I know Tommy isn't a main character. But they could have done so much more with this and with him. Hopefully its not the end.
The show also did nothing to show Buck's growth in a relationship, aside from the fact that he kissed a boy and liked it.
8x01 showed us that Buck was competent, professional, and mature, and stupidly I was hoping that would extend to his relationship too.
I think Buck has to figure out what he wants out of a relationship, I hope we see more of Buck talking to Josh or Hen and then he and Tommy work on making a relationship that's lasting, honest, and full of love (if we're grudging up Abby, we can continue the red string here and make that nod too)
What also bothers me is they took 3 episodes to build Buck and Tommy and show us that they have chemistry and that Tommy shows up for Buck, they had two more moments where it was clear they were getting to know each other and were solid in season 7.
And then it took them 1 episode to tear it all down without ever showing Buck showing up for Tommy. They were supposed to be getting to know each other. But six months in, it's like they didn't even know each other at all... or actually. It's like Buck didn't know Tommy at all.
I find it frustrating that we got to see so little of them, and most of it was Tommy doing things for Buck, showing up for Buck, complementing Buck, and taking care of Buck. A relationship has to be a two-way street. You show up for me, I show up for you.
And I'm glad Tommy showed up for Buck. Buck deserves love. But so does Tommy. Tommy was clearly looking for love, IDk if he was looking for a family or anything long term. Maybe he was dealing with a bad breakup and Buck was adorable, and he thought, maybe this could be a thing for now, but he ended up falling for him, clearly, and panicked. But I think on some level he was looking for someone to show up for him too, even when things got hard. And maybe this is foreshadowing. I hope it is. But I refuse to get my hopes up about it, or about Buck's love life ever again.
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duckielover151 · 2 months ago
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Yes. Yes, yes, yes...
Especially knowing it was the final season, I have a really hard time believing she was asking for anything unreasonable.
I've read articles where the showrunners describe her as "the glue holding this series together," and that feels so fucking hypocritical, knowing why she left.
There are many things I can live with, but finding out that Sierra McClain will not be back for season five of 911 Lone Star is not one of them.
You’re telling me the only person you couldn’t figure the contract out with is the dark skinned Black woman who is arguably the heart and conscious of the show…
I’m not surprised but I am incredibly angry and disappointed.
Article Here
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omaano · 2 years ago
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“You’ve come for your turn early,” the stranger says, turning to look at Boba as if Gregor does not exist. Gregor flashes Boba a grin, all too-sharp teeth, as the stranger steps away, shaking off the attractive glamour as if it’s nothing. Gregor seems as delighted as Boba is troubled to realise that their would-be customer is more cunning than he seems.
Mereel & Family Booksellers by binz, shiplizard
Allow me to recommend one more awesome Bobadin fic - since @sidhebeingbrand and @toughbreaks were kind enough to let me illustrate their fic for my "Jaster lives" square for @bobadinweek's Bobadin AU bingo card... with a bit of cheating - my love for which only grows and grows with time (and trust me, it does get better with every re-read! ). Fantastic and delightful world building with Victorian era and fae magic, and beautifully written characters where every single one of them vibrate with life. (Boba gets to suffer his 99 siblings, Jango is forced through some emotional catharsis kicking and screaming, and Din is trying his best to be a dad of a fae child. It's just the best, okay?) I'll eventually want to make one more drawing for chapter 2, I just realized during my latest re-read that I imagined the whole scene wrong ^^;
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magentagalaxies · 6 months ago
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video essay!!!
hi friends!!
if you were curious at all about the video essay i was putting together for my comedy-theory class or are interested in hearing about some projects i'm working on, here's the link to watch it:
youtube
the video is unlisted bc it was specifically made for a class, and since a lot of the future-projects mentioned will probably go through major changes before i'm ready to release them to the world i didn't want this to seem like any kind of announcement video, but i'm also super proud of this video (it's probably my favorite final i've done) and i wanted to share it with any tumblr friends who are interested
if you'd like to learn more about any of the projects feel free to dm me bc i love infodumping about what i'm working on and the projects i mentioned here are very important to me. also dm me if you're at all curious about the comedy theory i'm citing, unfortunately due to the time limit on the assignment i didn't have enough time to give an in-depth explanation people outside of the class could get, but i LOVE comedy-philosophy and i made sure to download all the readings by the end of the course, so i would absolutely be willing to send over some PDFs and do some comedy analysis education lmao
also the first thirteen-and-a-half minutes are the video i turned in as my final, and the last six-and-a-half minutes are my in-class presentation that went along with it. for this assignment we had to construct a "comedy manifesto" using some of the theorists we covered in class to analyze our own comedy and outline goals for what we want our comedy to accomplish, and then for the in-class presentation we had the option of either presenting an abridged version of what we said in our "manifesto" or performing a piece of our own comedy that aligns with our goals. i of course did the second one bc i will never waste a captive audience.
tbh i don't think this was my best performance but i will say i literally memorized it in 24 hours so the fact that i only messed up twice is still impressive (also the lack of audience response is at least partially bc this was the last week of classes so most people who didn't have to present just skipped class)
presentations were also optional and i was the only one who did a piece fully in-character so that also gives you the vibe of the room
btw every piece of music in the video essay (aside from "having an average weekend" by shadowy men on a shadowy planet aka the kith theme) was composed by me for my musical other girls (who needs royalty-free music when you still have the demo files from your musical in fall 2022)
also there was no requirement on this assignment to interview a comedian, i just decided to zoom with paul bellini the week this was first assigned as a flex for my video essay lmao. so anyway watch this video if you want never-before-heard bellini content (at least 20% of which is just bellini complimenting my writing)
oh also if you're curious about the buddy cole tour behind-the-scenes thing i edited for my final in a different class dm me and i'll send you the vid, i'm not posting that one anywhere bc it's not great quality (i made it while super burnt out and i didn't have all the time/resources to include everything i wanted to include, plus the audio's not great) so i don't want it to be released as like an "official first look at the upcoming buddy cole documentary" until i can put together something more polished, but i would be willing to dm the link for people who just want to see a video of me and scott causing chaos on tour knowing it will be a much more polished edit later
anyway go watch my video essay i got the highest possible grade available on it and i'm very proud
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dagmartoons · 1 year ago
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AAAAAAAAA THERE THEY ARE!!!
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magicomens · 19 days ago
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First >> Prev
I could say that realizing every artist's dream of completing a project like this wasn't easy, and while it's true, I must thank you all once again for encouraging me with your sweet comments and messages. It's thanks to you that a one-part punchline became a full 202 pages (!!!) story.
Now that it's over and if you still aren't tired of my shenanigans, you can follow my main blog (and see my yearly Snowlin Halloween illustration soon!).
As for the Magic Omens AU, please give me a moment to catch my breath and I'll start preparing the digital release (with bonus drawings) that will be downloadable from kofi!
To the Merlin fans who are keeping the fandom alive, to the Good Omens fans (I'm sure the 90 minutes finale will be great, even if we won't get a full season! stay hopeful!!) and to the fans of both shows for constantly enabling my silly idea,
thank you! <3
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creepyscritches · 7 days ago
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I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.
Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.
What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is
1) intricately interwoven with the federal government
2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)
3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business
4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)
The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.
Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).
The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.
Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.
I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.
I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.
The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.
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fastandcarlos · 4 months ago
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Through The Years : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton
summary: you've been with lewis since day one, and you've got the instagram posts still saved to show just how much you guys have been through over the years
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liked ynusername, mercedesamgf1 and 2,419,593 others
lewishamilton: WORLD CHAMPION BABY 🏆🏎️
291,492 comments
username1: always knew you were destined for greatness
username2: congrats champ 🏆
ynusername: pretty cool to say I’m not dating a world champ 💕
lewishamilton: @/ynusername you’re welcome 😂
username3: IM SO PROUD OF YOU LEWIS!!
nicorosberg: I’ll get you next year 😂
kimimatiasraikkonen: amazing season lewis, congratulations 👏🏻
username4: my world champ 🌍🏆
username5: we always knew that you’d get there…first of many 🫶🏻
jensonbutton: nice to see the trophy coming back to british seas 🎉
username6: cannot wait for you to be world champion for the next twenty thousand seasons 🥺
aussiegrit: amazing season, great racing with you this year!!
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liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg and 992,138 others
ynusername: apparently i'm a mercedes girl now, 2012 season incoming and i'm here for it, wishing you all the luck in the world my love
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username7: five years on and I’m still so thankful that lewis has you in his corner yn ❤️
jensonbutton: mercedes is the best team anyway 💙🏎️
username8: it’s taken years but she’s finally convinced 😂
username9: if you ever change your mind I’ll come and be a mercedes girl instead
lewishamilton: thank you for always being my biggest fan my love 💞
ynusername: @/lewishamilton always on your side 😘
username10: another world title pending…
username11: lewis doesn’t need luck, the title is his yn!!
nicorosberg: still can’t believe you’re not wearing my shirt around the paddock 🙄
ynusername: @/nicorosberg last time I checked I wasn’t dating you 🤷🏻‍♀️
username12: this is the level of girlfriend I aspire to be
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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1,982,503 others
lewishamilton: yn said we weren't allowed to have children yet so i went and got the next best thing, introducing roscoe 🐶❤️
148,580 comments
username13: omg roscoe is just the cutest 😭😭
ynusername: I already deal with a child every day living with you 😂😂
lewishamilton: @/ynusername stop exposing me like this!!
schecoperez: can’t wait to meet roscoe at the paddock soon!
username14: proudest dog dad ever!
username15: can I also be adopted by lewis and yn like roscoe please???
aussiegrit: how much are you paying poor yn to dogsit during race weekends 🤔
lewishamilton: @/aussiegrit she’s paid in love and affection don’t you worry 😂
username16: YET…there’s hope for the future still!!
valtteribottas: how have you adopted a dog and only just told me now? 😡
username17: roscoe is already my best friend and no one else’s
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liked by maxverstappen1, valtteribottas and 3,491,508 others
lewishamilton: still just as sweet to win all these years on, thank you mercedes fans for your continued support
104,592 comments
username18: true legend of formula 1 🤩
valtteribottas: congratulations, so proud to be your teammate 🏎️
username19: a decade on and still your number one fan!!
maxverstappen1: let someone else have a win for one will you? 😂
ynusername: and I’m still just as proud to see you on the podium as I was all those years ago 💕💕
username20: it’s unfair how talented one man can be 😭
username21: just tell us your secrets pls 😂
username22: all the other drivers wishing that they could be as talented as you!!
kimimatiasraikkonen: couldn’t think of a better guy to be p2 behind ☺️
danielricciardo: can you just retire already and leave us alone??
lewishamilton: @/danielricciardo: you’re stuck with me a little while longer yet
username23: no one else will ever compare to you…
hulkhulkenberg: teach me how to overtake like you 🙏🏻
username24: I’m not prepared for the day we experience f1 without this man 😭
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liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 859,182 others
ynusername: oh yeah...did i mention that i have a husband now?? 🥺
47,620 comments
username25: my two favourite people in the world are married…I can’t cope 😭
danielricciardo: congratulations, couldn’t be happier for the two of you 🥂
valtteribottas: we had the best time celebrating you guys ❤️
username26: how did they manage to get married and keep it an entire secret from the world???
username27: I want to see all the photos asap
landonorris: okay and my invite was where exactly??
ynusername: @/landonorris whoops must’ve got lost in the post somewhere 🤷🏻‍♀️
username28: the ultimate boyfriend material just became ultimate husband material
charles_leclerc: couldn’t have happened to two nicer people 🫶🏻
username29: my heart just skipped a beat with pure happiness for this 🥺
lewishamilton: have I mentioned how proud I am to be your husband? 💞
ynusername: @/lewishamilton I bet not as proud as I am to be your wife!
username30: why do I feel like I’ve been betrayed by not being told this news sooner??
georgerussell63: fyi best wedding I’ve ever been too!!
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liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 2,492,608 others
lewishamilton: our greatest blessing is yet to come, yn and i are so happy to share that we are expecting our very own little one just before christmas...i could not be any happier as we start this new chapter ❤️❤️❤️
149,528 comments
landonorris: ah I’m so happy for you two!!
username31: omg this is just the best news ever!!
username32: my two faves are having a baby 🤯
schecoperez: I’ll make sure to pass all my tips onto you 😂
lewishamilton: @/schecoperez I’ll be needing all of them
username33: I’ve never been happier then I am right now 😭
ynusername: I can’t wait for this next adventure with you 💕
lewishamilton: @/ynusername no one else I’d rather do this with!!
charles_leclerc: cannot wait to meet your little one at the paddock soon!
jensonbutton: being a parent is the best feeling in the world ❤️
username34: I’ve waited so long to see this post and now it’s finally happening 🎉
username35: nobody speak to me for the next nine months
valtteribottas: uncle duties pending…
username36: they’re going to be the best parents I can already tell
carlossainz55: I know how much this means to you two…congratulations!
username37: THIS IS EVERYTHING 🥺
nicorosberg: simply couldn’t be happier, the biggest congratulations 👏🏻
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liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux and 729,501 others
ynusername: the best daddy i could ever dream of our little girl having, on cloud nine right now ⛅️
33,495 comments
lewishamilton: thank you for giving me the greatest gift ever 💞💞
username38: dad lewis is just something else 😭
carmenmmundt: I can’t wait for all the cuddles asap!!!!
ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I cannot wait to introduce you as soon as were at a race 😭
username39: my heart can’t cope with how adorable these photos are
georgerussell63: well these are just a little bit cute eh??
username40: thank you yn for blessing my timeline like this
username41: it’s not fair how one baby can be so cute 🤩
landonorris: this kid is too cute to be lewis’ surely 😂😂
username42: you can just tell she’s already got lewis wrapped right around her finger 😂
charles_leclerc: stop rubbing it in how cute your daughter is 😂
username43: ultimate daddy’s girl right here 🥺🥺
sebastianvettel: these photos are adorable yn, so happy for you guys!
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liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 1,492,043 others
lewishamilton: everything in life i do for these guys, everything i've ever wanted and more
42,291 comments
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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f1boistrash · 6 months ago
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i have a name | l.s
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a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister
summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much
Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'
But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.
Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.
The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.
"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.
"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.
"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.
You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."
Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.
You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.
It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.
"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.
"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.
"That bad huh?"
"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."
The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.
"You get used to it." You shrugged.
"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."
"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.
"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.
"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.
"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.
You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."
-x-
"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.
"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.
He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"
"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.
You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.
"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"
"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.
"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."
Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."
"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.
It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.
Y/N:
Thank you again for tonight.
His response was quick making your stomach flutter.
Logan:
You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N
Y/N:
I know
I enjoyed talking to you tonight
So thank you for your company 😊
Logan:
I enjoyed talking to you too 😊
I hope we can do it again some time
You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.
Y/N:
I would love to ☺️
Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙
Logan:
Good luck Y/N 😊
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loudclan-clangen · 22 days ago
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Loudclan - Moon 29: Part 3
Things are gonna get a bit darker than they have been in the second half of this moon. Be warned and check the tags! Happy Spooky Season!
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The sun is ever-present in the summer sky. It sits vigil alongside the clan. Soon after the bodies arrive at camp a patrol sets out to track the rogues, but finding that they have already crossed Shadedclan's territory, it is decided that the opportunity for revenge has passed. They'll double patrols and wait to see if the murders try to cross the territory on their way home. Many are upset, but few argue. As the sky begins to lose it's duskiness, the vigil is ended, the bodies buried, and the clan cats left to filter back into camp at their own pace. Wildfirecry excuses himself to clear his head, while Dancepaw attempts to bridge the gap with the only brother he has left.
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Seeing Rosehiptree will be left alone in the burial place, Songpaw decides to stay for a while.
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It takes Wildfirecry three days to find the farm cats.
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There are Forestclan traditions that were never passed on to Loudclan. Rites that were deemed too dark to touch the newborn clan and thus were cast aside. But here, miles past the valley territories, they live on.
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Wildfirecry returns to Loudclan's camp a week after the vigil having lost two lives. No one questions where he has been. The scent of rancid dried blood still lingers despite a fresh coat of oil, and his wounds, while closed, are unmistakably fresh. The clan returns to an uneasy normalcy.
[Whoo! I did it! This moon was INCREDIBLY hard for me. The first part relies so much on my dialogue skills, which, is the part of comic-making that comes least easily to me, and the second part is super experimental, which was so much fun, but also mentally tiring. (On that note please let me know if it's like impossible to see. I meant for it to be a bit difficult to make out, but it's hard to gage between my ipad and my laptop whether it will be readable for all of you. I can fiddle with the color grading tomorrow if necessary.) And finally, Rosehip's experience here is really, really close to my heart. That means that her scenes here are ones that I really wanted to write, but also that I had to take a couple of breaks to make sure that I wasn't wearing myself down too much, so sorry that it took longer than I thought and I haven't been able to answer as many asks as I had hoped to. Anyway, despite early difficulty I had a GREAT time finishing this moon up and I'm happy with how it turned out! Songpaw and Rosehiptree are keeping the trauma dump to best friends pipeline alive and I love them for it. Erminekit is kinda being a brat but he really just wants to be there for his best friend and everyone is getting in the way! He doesn't really get the concept of "giving someone space". As far as Moon 30 I have a science class that I'd like to get finished by the end of the month, so it will probably be a minute. Hope you guys enjoy!]
First Moon
Next Moon
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incognit0slut · 6 months ago
Note
i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333
tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3
Home is whenever I’m with you
Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words
He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.
But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.
“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."
You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.
And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.
And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.
What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 
Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.
Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.
His mom is safe.
A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.
That’s good to hear. Is he fine?
Not great, but he's managing.
That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.
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You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.
Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.
And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck
“Spence, what are you—”
Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.
"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 
“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”
“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”
“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”
You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”
He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.
“How’s your mom?”
He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”
You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”
He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”
Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”
He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.
“Do you want anything? Water, food?”
He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”
"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”
You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”
You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”
"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."
He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”
You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”
He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.
“You grew out your facial hair.”
A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 
You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."
“Really?”
“It’s growing on me.”
His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 
You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.
"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.
"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.
“I thought I was never going to see you again.”
"Why would you think that?”
He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”
You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”
His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”
“Oh, honey…”
“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”
You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”
He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”
You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”
He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."
He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.
“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”
You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.
“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”
He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.
You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.
You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.
Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.
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v6quewrlds · 25 days ago
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❝ say my name, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  
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‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: success is great until you realize that you haven't touched your husband in nearly a month. feeling guilty about your absence, his new assistant's constant presence hits a nerve.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: game dey fic for good luck! i'm just gonna come clean and say that this picture inspired this entire thing. possessive joe we all say in unison. this was so fun to work on, thank you anon for the request <33 requests are still open!!
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: angst & smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, established relationship, jealousy, dom!joe, exhibitionism?, public sex, mirror sex?, size kink? size kink, cunnilingus bc joe burrow is an eater™, the tiniest baby hint of a breeding kink.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x fiancee!reader.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.8k.
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The kitchen was bathed in the soft glow of the hanging lights hanging above the island, casting shadows that danced across the marble countertops as yourself, Joe, and your best friend, Tamara, sat around the kitchen table. The aroma of a quick meal filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of Joe's cologne and the sweetness of the boxed cake mix they had shared. Your dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun, your blowout beginning to curl up again. You and Tamara listening intently as Joe spoke of his assistant's impending departure. Your eyes, a deep shade of brown, drifted in and out of the conversation as you thought about the pile of work waiting for you at your office in downtown Cincinnati.
You just barely heard Tamara suggesting her cousin as a replacement. Tiffany, who was studying Marketing at the University of Cincinnati, had grown closer to her older cousin in her time in school despite the age difference between them. "She's been looking for an internship or something part-time," she said, hope sparkling in her voice. "It's tough out here, and she's really good with people."
Joe looked at you, who nodded in approval, half listening and trusting your best friend’s endorsement. "Send her my way, T," he said, smiling. "I'll set up an interview."
The following week was a blur of phone calls and emails as Joe prepared for the interview. Your schedule was packed with work, and Joe was buried in his season commitments. Your paths rarely crossed outside of brief moments at home, leaving your newly purchased house feeling more like a rest stop than a shared home.
When the day of Tiffany’s interview finally arrived, Joe was surprised by her poise and professionalism. She walked in dressed sharply, her confidence radiating in the room. Despite her youth, she spoke with the eloquence of someone who had been in the industry for years. Her references were impeccable, and her career goals were admirable. He had no doubts that she would be a valuable asset to his team.
You met Tiffany for the first time in the kitchen the morning after she started. The young woman's enthusiasm was palpable, but you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something not quite right with her demeanor. Tiffany's eyes lingered on Joe a little too long for your liking, and her smile was a bit too wide when he spoke to her. You shook yourself out of her skepticism and chalked it up to nerves and excitement about the job. You had to admit, after all, that Tiffany was a breath of fresh air. She was excellent in keeping up with Joe’s schedules and appointments, helping to shoulder some of the burdens he dreaded about his career.
The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of game days and late-night reheated dinners. Your business was thriving, and Joe's season was on an upward trajectory. Yet, amidst all the success, there was a worrying feeling that something was off-balance. Tiffany was always there, a constant presence that seemed to hover closer to Joe than necessary. You tried not to let it get to you, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy every time Joe laughed at one of Tiffany's jokes or thanked her for handling something simple so efficiently.
You stood over your side of your twin sinks, your coils pushed back from your forehead as you completed your skincare routine. You felt a gentle nudge as Joe leaned against you, his reflection in the mirror showing the exhaustion etched into his features. It was 10 PM, way past Joe's bedtime, but you appreciated the effort he was showing to take advantage of what little time you could spend together.
"So, I've got a dinner tomorrow," he began, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet bathroom. His strong arms wrapped warmly around your waist. "It's a sponsor thing. Nothing crazy, no cameras. Just dinner and a few schmoozes."
Your eyes met his in the mirror. "You want me to come?" You tried to keep the hope out of your voice, but it crept in regardless.
"Yeah. I know you've been slammed with work, but I'd love it if you could come. It's at the Kinley downtown. They have that amazing tiramisu you love." Joe's smile was boyish, and your heart melted at the thought of a rare date night.
The last time you two had been to the Kinley was the night of your engagement three months ago. That famous tiramisu had been delivered to your suite to accompany a bottle of champagne after the hotel manager heard the city's star quarterback was celebrating an accepted proposal. It had been a night filled with laughter and love, and you couldn't help but hope for a similar experience tomorrow.
"Okay, I'll come," you said, turning to kiss him. "But only for the tiramisu."
Joe chuckled and squeezed you tightly. "Whatever it takes to drag you outside with me." He kissed the top of your head before reaching for his toothbrush. "But promise me you'll wear that dress I like, the white one."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "The one that never makes it through the door before you're trying to get it off me? That one?"
Joe grinned, his teeth flashing in the bathroom light. "You know the one."
The morning light streamed through the blinds, creating a checkered pattern across your bed. Your eyes fluttered open, the promise of the dinner date lingering in your mind. You felt Joe's warmth beside you, his even breaths a comforting soundtrack to the start of your day. As you slipped out of bed and into the shower, you couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement for the evening ahead. Joe was gone from his side of the bed when you returned from her shower, his deep voice carrying from the kitchen as he laughed over the phone with Ja'Marr.
As you got dressed to leave for work, you heard the doorbell ring. You didn't expect anyone, but Joe's voice grew louder as he spoke to someone at the door. You made your way downstairs to find Tiffany, dressed in a sleek casual outfit, her hair slicked down perfectly.
"Morning, you two," she chirped, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joe. You felt a flicker of irritation but pushed it aside.
"Hi, Tiffany," you said with a forced smile. "I can't believe your boss got you over here so early."
Tiffany's eyes darted to Joe before returning to you. "Oh, it's no trouble. I just wanted to make sure everything is set for tonight. Joe said I could tag along to the dinner. You know, for networking and all."
Your smile didn't falter, but your stomach did a flip. "Networking? At the Kinley? Downtown? Tonight?" You couldn't help the searing glare you shot towards Joe who remained wrapped up in his own little world. Completely oblivious to the dissatisfaction on your face. 
You had to admit that you had hoped for a more intimate evening with Joe, but you had no desire to be rude. "That's a great opportunity, Tiffany. It'll be good to make some business connections in the city."
Joe looked between you, blissfully unaware of the tension between the two women. "You're right, babe. Tiffany's going to be graduating soon, and she needs all the help she can get." He gave you a kiss on the cheek, a hand reaching to cradle your waist. "Don't worry, I'll try to keep the business talk to a minimum."
You nodded, trying to keep your emotions in check. You didn't want to ruin your night with a petty argument about his assistant. After all, Joe had done so much to support you, especially with putting up with your late work hours recently.
Tiffany grimaced as Joe's hand lingered on your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. "Right," she murmured. "I'll just grab my laptop and get to work." She reached into her laptop bag, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at her reaction. You had agreed to come to the dinner to support Joe, not to play chaperone.
The day passed slowly, a mix of business meetings and working through the massive to-do list from your secretary leaving you with little time to dwell on the evening's potential awkwardness. When you finally returned home to get ready, you found Joe in your closet, half dressed in a sharp suit that hugged his muscular frame. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, and you had to admit that you felt a spark of excitement at the prospect of a night out with him.
"Joe, did you think Tiffany's energy was off this morning?" You asked as you stepped into the walk-in closet to choose your outfit.
Joe looked up from his phone, presumably texting his stylist, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
You emerged from the closet wearing the white dress he had requested, your eyes meeting his in the floor-length mirror. "She just seemed... eager."
Joe shrugged, his tie now hanging loosely around his neck. "Eager to network, you mean? That's what she's here for, babe." You nodded, trying to convince yourself that your jealousy was unfounded. You reached up to do up Joe's tie for him, your hands trembling slightly. As you stepped back to admire your work, he pulled you into a tight embrace.
"You look amazing," Joe whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hand cupped your cheek, his blue eyes sweeping over your face. "You always do, beautiful."
You felt a warm blush creep up your neck. "Thank you, baby." You kissed him lightly, trying to ignore the voice in the back of your head that whispered about Tiffany.
The drive to the Kinley was filled with Joe's stories from practice and Tiffany's chirpy interjections about the inside jokes they built up over the weeks she had been working for him. You listened politely, but your mind was elsewhere, planning how you could make the most of this evening. You didn't want to spend the entire night watching Joe work the room with his assistant by his side.
Once you arrived at the luxurious hotel, the valet took Joe's car, and the three of you stepped into the bustling lobby. The air was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and laughter, a stark contrast to the quiet tension between yourself and Tiffany. You took a deep breath and slipped your hand into Joe's, reminding yourself that this was your night, despite the third wheel.
The dinner was a mix of business moguls and sports celebrities. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for a friendly face. You spotted a few local influencers from your business’ social media following, but you were already engaged in your own conversations. The grand ballroom of the Kinley Hotel was a sea of unfamiliar faces, all dressed to the nines and seemingly at ease. The three of you made your way to the table reserved for Joe and his two guests.
Tiffany was already scanning the room, her eyes lighting up as she recognized a potential networking opportunity. "Oh, there's Dr. Simpson from the university," she exclaimed. "I've been dying to talk to him about an internship."
Joe nodded, his gaze following her as she gracefully excused herself. "Go for it," he encouraged, offering her a kind smile. "I'll grab us some drinks."
You watched Tiffany weave through the crowd, an eager bounce in her step. As Joe returned with an espresso martini for you and an iced tea for himself, you couldn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach. You took a sip of your drink, trying to push the negative thoughts aside.
The evening progressed with Joe being pulled into conversation after conversation, leaving you to sit alone at the table. You checked your phone for the millionth time, scrolling through social media to keep yourself entertained. You were in no mood to schmooze with influencers and their sugar daddies, your work had already left you with minimal energy. The chandeliers above cast a warm glow over the room, and the clinking of silverware against china filled the air. You felt out of place, a fish out of water.
Your eyes followed Joe as he charmed a table of investors with a story about a recent game-winning play. Tiffany hovered at his side, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she subtly touched his arm, prompting him with information or a well-placed joke. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you watched Joe's assistant monopolize his time.
A server approached with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, and you finally gathered the will to stand and mingle. You recognized a few faces from your own business circles, but the conversations felt forced, the words sticking in your throat as you tried to maintain a cheery facade. With each passing minute, your frustration grew. This wasn't the romantic evening you had hoped for; it was just another work function for Joe with an unwelcome plus-one.
Tiffany reappeared at Joe's side, her laugh a tinkling sound that seemed to carry across the room. You felt a twinge of annoyance at her ease, the way she moved with confidence and charm among these powerful individuals despite her lack of experience. You couldn't help but wonder if Joe had noticed the flirtatious glances she kept casting his way.
"Babe, you okay?" Joe asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he took a seat beside you. His brow was furrowed with concern, and for a moment, you felt guilty for your jealous thoughts. You forced a smile and nodded. "Just a little tired," you said, playing off your discomfort.
But Joe wasn't buying it. He leaned in close, whispering, "What's going on, sweetheart?" You took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne calming your nerves slightly. 
"It's Tiffany," you confessed.
He frowned, glancing over at his assistant. "What about her?"
You took a moment to gather your thoughts, wanting to choose your words wisely. "It's just... she's all over you, Joe. And it's so fucking weird. She's supposed to be here for business, not to flirt."
Joe's eyes widened in surprise. "Flirt? She's not flirting with me." He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to where Tiffany was now engaged with a group of businessmen. "Babe, she's just doing her job. Networking."
You felt a spark of frustration at his dismissal. "It's more than that, Joe. I can feel it." You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice low and steady. "I don't want to ruin your night, but I can't ignore how uncomfortable this is making me."
Joe studied you for a moment, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. But before either of you could say anything else, Tiffany came gliding back over, a triumphant smile on her face. "Joe, I've got a meeting with Dr. Simpson next week. He's interested in discussing some marketing strategies for the university's athletic program. You're a genius for bringing me here!"
Her eyes flicked to you, who offered a tight smile in return. "Congratulations, Tiffany," you said through gritted teeth. "You're doing a fantastic job." The words were perfectly sweet, topped off with a gentle lilt as you stood up from your seat. Your hands smoothed over your dress before pushing the chair back in. "But if you'll excuse me..." you trailed off, making your way through the crowd of people without a backward glance.
Joe's hand reached out to grab yours as she passed, but you slipped away. He watched your retreating figure, the frown on his face deepening as he realized he had a situation to handle. "I'll be right back," he told Tiffany, who nodded, her eyes tracking your exit with an odd expression that was not lost on Joe.
He found you in the quiet hallway outside the ballroom, leaning against the wall, your eyes closed. "Hey," he said softly, approaching you. You didn't open your eyes, but you didn't flinch either, which was a bad sign.
"Hey," you murmured, your voice low and tired.
Joe stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Babe, what's wrong? I don't like seeing you like this."
You took a deep breath, opening your eyes to meet Joe's concerned gaze. "It bothers me Joey, the way she acts around you is so fucking weird. And you're not even picking up on it." Your voice was laced with a hint of anger, but the exhaustion from your long day was clear.
Joe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. If you're uncomfortable, I'll talk to her," he offered, his voice sincere. "But she's been nothing but professional with me, sweetheart."
You looked at him, your eyes squinting in disbelief. "Joe, she's been all over you since she started working for you. That’s not professional."
He frowned, clearly confused. "Babe, she's just trying to do her job. She's young, eager to impress. It's not what it seems."
You pulled your arm away, your voice rising slightly. "Why would she need to impress you by flirting with you? She's your assistant, not a contestant on a reality show."
Joe's expression darkened as he took in her tone. "Babe," he warned slowly. "You're being dramatic."
But you were beyond caring. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a huff, "Joe," you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and sadness. "You're so blind. She's obviously into you."
Joe's jaw tightened. "Look, if you need attention, I can give you attention." He offered his hand for you to take, his patience wearing thin.
You stepped back, the coldness in his voice cutting through the warmth of the room. "Is that what you think this is about? Attention?" You threw your hands up in frustration. "This isn't a game, Joe. This is our relationship!"
The music and laughter from the ballroom seemed to fade away as you faced each other, your words echoing in the quiet hallway. The silence between you seemed to stretch on for hours. Neither of you were willing to back down. 
Finally Joe took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I miss you." He hummed as a hand reached for your hip, pulling you closer to him. "It's been a month since we’ve done anything just the two of us."
Your eyes searched his, the frustration slowly melting away as you gave in. "I miss you too."
Joe's gaze softened, and he leaned in to kiss you. It was gentle at first, a sweet promise of comfort and reassurance, but it quickly grew into something more urgent. A month's worth of longing and tension poured into that kiss, and suddenly, the hallway didn't feel so cold anymore. Your knees practically buckled under his touch, his hands grasping at your curves with a hunger you missed so desperately.
"I need to feel you," he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding around your waist.
You felt a thrill run through you. You knew Joe wasn't the type to act on impulse like this, but you couldn't deny that a part of you craved this passion from him. You had been so busy, and this raw passion was a stark reminder of why you were together. You leaned into him, the heat from your bodies melding together.
"Baby, not here," you whispered, though your voice was laced with want. You didn't miss the twinkle in his eye as he glanced down the hallway.
"Come on, let's go somewhere private." He took your hand, leading you away from the ballroom's prying eyes. You stumbled into an empty bathroom, the door clicking shut behind them. The tension between the two of you crackled in the air as Joe's hands slid up your thighs, pushing your dress up. You gasped as his mouth found your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of heat.
In the dimly lit bathroom, your eyes locked in the mirror. The reflection showed a side of them that hadn't been seen in weeks—desperate and passionate. You gasped as Joe bent you over the counter, his hands roaming under your dress. The cool marble sent a shiver down your spine, but it was nothing compared to the heat between your legs. You didn't protest when he pulled your panties to the side, instead leaning into the sensation of his hand on your skin.
Joe's voice was a gruff whisper in your ear. "Do you want me to stop?" His thumb traced a tantalizing circle around your clit, and you bit back a moan.
"No," you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck me."
With a grunt, Joe complied, his hand moving away to unbuckle his pants. He was already hard, his cock pressing against your ass as he lined himself up. He slammed into you without much prep, and your moan echoed in the tiled room. You gripped the edge of the counter, your breath getting caught in your throat as he began to thrust into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with the distant laughter and clinking glasses from the dinner.
Your movements grew more erratic as you both gave into your desires. Your heels clicked against the marble floor with every thrust, the sound bouncing off the walls. Joe's grip tightened on your hips, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered dirty nothings that made your toes curl. It was a stark contrast to the elegant evening gown you wore, now hiked up around your waist, and the fancy hotel bathroom you found yourself in.
"Harder," you moaned, your voice thick with desire.
"Yeah?" Joe questioned, his grip tightened on your hips, his rhythm quickening as he drove into you. The bathroom's sterile scent was overpowered by your mingled perfume and the scent of your arousal. The world outside the bathroom door faded away, replaced by the symphony of your panting breaths and the wet slap of your bodies coming together.
"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your eyes fluttering open to meet Joe's in the mirror. The sight of him, all muscular and intense, brought a new wave of arousal crashing over you. You felt the tension in your core tighten with every stroke, your body begging for release.
"I'm right here," Joe murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the urgent sounds of your lovemaking. His eyes held yours in the mirror, a silent promise that he heard you and that he cared. "You're all mine, baby. You're all I want. The only one."
You felt your body respond to his words, the tension coiling tighter, your orgasm approaching like a freight train. "Baby," you moaned, your nails digging into the counter. "I'm gonna come."
Joe's eyes darkened, and he thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you. "Come for me, sweetheart," he urged, his own breathing ragged. "You wanted my attention? You got it. Right here, right now."
Your body obeyed, shuddering with pleasure as she climaxed, your inner walls clenching around him. He groaned, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. The sound of your passion bounced off the marble walls, echoing through the empty hallway outside. It was a reminder of the passion that still burned between the two of you, despite the distance your busy lives had created.
You both came down from your highs, your breathing slowly returning to normal as Joe held you against him, your hands resting against the cool bathroom sink. "I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter.
Joe leaned in to kiss your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't be. We both needed this." He pulled out of you gently, setting you upright to clean you up gently. You straightened out your clothes, trying to compose yourselves before returning to the dinner.
When you exited the bathroom, the tension between you had shifted. The awkwardness was gone, replaced with a newfound intimacy and understanding. You held hands as you walked back to the ballroom, your eyes meeting in a silent promise that you wouldn't let your busy lives come between you two again.
As you re-entered the buzzing room, the first person you saw was Tiffany, who was chatting with a group of people. Her eyes immediately darted to your joined hands and hazy eyes. You felt a smug satisfaction at the slight flicker of jealousy in the assistant's gaze. But you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on Joe and the rest of the night ahead of you.
Joe steered you to your table, and you noticed that the dinner had progressed to dessert without you. The other guests were engaged in lively conversations, oblivious to the passionate interlude the two of you had just shared. You couldn't help but feel a bit rebellious, a bit wild, knowing that while everyone else was munching on chocolate tiramisu, you had just been properly fucked by your fiancé in the bathroom.
You sat down and picked at your desserts, Joe occasionally squeezing your hand under the table. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and forced smiles, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Tiffany's eyes kept finding you, lingering a second too long on the lean into each other or the occasional kiss you shared.
As the dinner wound down and guests began to disperse, Joe leaned in, whispering, "Let's get out of here." The excitement in his voice was palpable, and you found yourself smiling genuinely for the first time that evening.
"What about Tiffany? She's not ready to leave," you whispered, glancing at Joe's assistant who was still deep in conversation.
"She's a big girl," Joe said with a firmness in his voice that made your stomach flutter. "We need some time alone."
"Joe," you warned, your voice a mix of amusement and concern. "You can't just leave her here."
He leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Why not? She's a smart girl, she can handle herself."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smirk that played on your lips. "Fine. But you're telling her we're leaving."
Joe leaned back in his chair, his own smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "My pleasure." He stood, his movements graceful despite his towering height. He approached Tiffany, and you watched as he tapped her on the shoulder. The young assistant's smile faltered when she saw who it was, the new glow in his features unmistakeable.
"Tiffany, we're heading out," Joe said, his voice firm but not unkind. "I know you're not ready to leave yet. But when you are, just order an Uber. It's on me, you can Venmo me in the morning."
Tiffany's expression tightened, and she nodded, trying to play it cool, but the sting of being ditched was clear in her eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt, but you couldn't bring herself to care much. Like Joe said, she was a smart girl, and it didn't take much to see the sexual tension floating between an engaged couple.
The two of you made your way through the lobby, giggling to each other as you tried to slip out under the radar. An older man passed by, giving you a knowing smile. "Looks like the night's just getting started for you two," he said with a wink.
Joe's arm tightened around your waist as he replied, "You could say that," with a mischievous grin. "I'm taking my wife home." The man chuckled before continuing on his way, leaving you to your own devices.
"Wife? Already?" You teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was promised another ring, Mr. Burrow.”
"Might as well get used to calling you that," Joe said, a hint of possessiveness in his tone that sent a thrill through you. “The ring will come in due time, Mrs. Burrow.”
You stepped outside into the cool Cincinnati evening, the sounds of the city muffled by the plush hotel lobby behind you. The valet pulled up with Joe's sleek black sports car, and you couldn't help but feel like a teenager again, sneaking out for a date with your forbidden boyfriend. You drove through the city streets, the tension in the car thick with unspoken words and lingering passion.
Back home, you didn't bother with small talk. The moment you were through the door, Joe scooped you into his arms and carried you upstairs in a bridal carry to your bedroom. Your kisses were deep, your touches exploratory, as if you were discovering each other all over again.
"Joseph," you scolded as he tossed you onto the plush king-sized bed, your bodies tangling together as he followed you down. His broader, more muscular body covered yours completely. Your heart swirled with arousal at the thought of him towering over you, claiming you as his wife as he did earlier. 
He kissed you deeply, his hands exploring the curves of your body as if he hadn't touched you in years instead of just an hour. Your fingers danced over his chest, feeling the familiar strength beneath the fabric of his shirt, your desire for him growing with every beat of your heart.
"I think we have some unfinished business," Joe murmured against your neck, his voice deep and filled with desire as his hands continued to roam over your body. His mouth trailed hot kisses along your collarbone, making you arch into him with a gasp.
Your own hands found their way to his shirt buttons, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. As the fabric parted, you could see the outline of his muscles, the result of countless hours of training and hard work. You ran your fingertips over his chest, feeling his heart race beneath your touch. It was a powerful reminder that, despite his rigorous schedule, he was all yours.
"Open those pretty legs for me," Joe groaned, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, pushing your body up even further on the bed and tearing your panties away.
You eagerly complied, your heart pounding in anticipation as Joe's eyes darkened with lust. He kissed down your body, peppering your skin with kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake. When his mouth reached your pussy, you bucked your hips upward, desperate for his touch. His tongue slid along your slit, teasing your clit before delving deeper. Your moans grew louder, filling the quiet room, as he feasted on you, bringing you to the brink of another orgasm.
"Fuck, baby," you whispered as Joe's tongue swirled around your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You couldn't believe how much you needed this, how much you craved his touch after being entrenched in your busy life. Your body felt alive again, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as Joe worked his magic on you.
"Yes, Joe," you moaned, your hips rocking against his face as Joe's skilled mouth brought you closer to climax. You felt him smile against you, the movement sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you. You were lost in the sensation, your body trembling as you reached for his hair, gripping the short strands in your fists.
"Yes, yes," you panted, your body writhing under Joe's relentless attention. His tongue was a masterful tool, bringing you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. You could feel the tension building within you, your toes curling and your grip on his hair tightening as you approached your peak.
"I'm gonna come," you warned, your voice breathless. "Baby, please don't stop. I need you so bad."
Joe's only response was a low growl of approval, his mouth working faster as he felt your body tense beneath him. He knew you were close, he could taste it in the sweetness of your arousal. With one final, lingering lick, you shattered, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Joe looked up at you, his eyes gleaming with pride and lust as he watched you come apart in his arms.
You collapsed back onto the bed, panting and trembling, your eyes fluttering shut. Joe didn't waste any time, quickly shedding his own clothes before sliding between your legs. He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock thick and hard with desire.
"Look at you," Joe murmured, his voice thick with lust. His eyes traced the lines of your body, taking in every inch of you like it was the first time all over again. "So beautiful, all mine. Never seen anyone so fucking perfect."
You felt your body warm at his words, your eyes snapping open to meet his. "Joe," you whispered, your voice a plea for more as you felt him nudge against your entrance. He slid in slowly, filling you completely, making you gasp with the sudden fullness.
Your rhythm was slow at first, a gentle rocking that grew in intensity with every beat of your hearts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back. Joe's eyes never left yours, the love and desire in his gaze setting you alight. You moved together in perfect harmony, your bodies speaking a language that only the two of you understood.
"Joey," you whispered, your voice strained with need as his hips rocked into you steadily. His thrusts grew stronger, more demanding. The bed beneath you creaked with the force of your passion, the only sound in the room your ragged breaths and the slick sounds of skin on skin.
Your voice cut off with a strangled moan as he hiked your thighs up higher. Your calves now rested on his broad shoulders, as your pelvises cushioned against each other. 
“What is it baby?” Joe questioned softly against your parted lips, your breaths mingling together in whispers of moans. “You know I’d give you whatever you need. Just ask.”
"Tell me you love me," you breathed, your eyes locked on Joe's. 
His pupils dilated, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.
"I love you, beautiful. So fucking much," he growled, his voice a mix of passion and frustration at the same time. "You're mine, and I'm yours. No one else." His words were punctuated by his hips, driving into you with a ferocity that mirrored the emotions churning within you.
"Only yours," you repeated, your voice a breathy whisper as Joe's cock slammed into you, each stroke hitting a spot deep inside that sent you spiraling towards another climax. The words resonated within you, a departure from the insecurity that had plagued you earlier in the evening.
"Fuck, Joey," you moaned, feeling the pressure build inside you once again. Your nails dug into his back, urging him to go harder, faster. "Don't stop, baby, don't ever stop."
Your movements grew more frantic, the passion between you a live wire, sparking and crackling in the air. Joe's muscles bulged with effort as he drove into you, each stroke hitting deeper than the last. The room grew hazy with lust, the only reality the feel of your bodies joined together.
"I don't want you to ever doubt how much I love you," Joe said through gritted teeth, his eyes stuck on your pleasure-ridden face. He pushed into you, each thrust a declaration of his love and ownership. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you felt the familiar tightness begin to coil within you for the third time that night. "Not when I'm with you, not when I'm at work, not when I'm around anyone else."
Your lovemaking grew more intense with every word, each one a promise that resonated through your soul. The feeling of him inside you was more than just physical; it was a reaffirmation of your commitment, a reminder of your bond. Your nails raked down Joe's back, leaving a trail of red in their wake. Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer, as if you could somehow fuse your bodies into one.
"I fuck you too hard?" Joe smirked, his voice strained as he felt your tight grip on him. He knew you were close, your breath hitching in your throat, your eyes screwed shut with pleasure.
"Too good?" He continued his relentless pace, his hips slapping against yours. You could only nod, your mouth forming a silent "yes" as you rode the wave of ecstasy. Your legs trembled around him, your body begging for more.
“Want me to fill you up, baby?” His mouth kept running as his voice became more strained with effort.
"Fuck, yes," you gasped out, your eyes flying open to meet Joe's intense gaze. You could feel your orgasm building, your muscles clenching around his cock. The way he filled you, the way he claimed you with every stroke, it was more than you could handle.
"How could you ever doubt me baby?" Joe whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he drove into you even deeper. 
His lips found your neck, biting at the soft flesh and soothing the pain with the flick of his tongue until you were squirming beneath him. "How could you doubt me when this good cock is just for you, huh?"
Your eyes rolled back in your head as another orgasm ripped through you without warning, your body tightening around Joe's cock. He groaned, feeling your pussy pulse with pleasure as he picked up the pace, driving into you faster and harder. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, the bed shaking beneath you as you both gave yourselves over to the moment.
Joe felt his own release building, the pressure at the base of his spine growing with every stroke. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, your teeth clashing together as you lost yourselves together. He could feel your pussy clench around him, milking his cock, and with a struggle of a moan, he came, filling you with his warmth.
For a moment, you two lay there, panting and trembling, your hearts racing. Then Joe pulled out of you, collapsing beside you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you both fought to catch your breaths. You felt his heart thud against your chest, the steady beat a reassurance of his love and commitment.
"You're so fucking beautiful when you come," Joe murmured, his voice still thick with desire as he kissed the side of your neck. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the aftermath of your lovemaking. 
Moments later, you leaned back into his broad chest as you soaked in the warm water of your bathtub. Your bodies tangled together, the only sound your ragged breaths and the occasional whisper of love and reassurance. The tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by a comfort and closeness that you hadn't felt in weeks. You knew your schedules were hectic, but moments like these reminded you why you had agreed to marry Joe in the first place.
"You know I don't doubt you, Joe," you murmured against his shoulder, your voice sleepy with satisfaction. "Tiffany's behavior today was weird. And I felt guilty about my feelings and I took it out on you."
Joe sighed, his arms tightening around you. "I’m sorry we’ve been so distant, baby. I'll talk to her. I hated seeing you so upset." He kissed the top of your head.
"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling closer to him. Despite your exhaustion, you knew that talking about Tiffany had brought the issue back to the surface. But Joe's embrace made you feel safe, and you allowed yourself to relax into the comfort of his arms.
"It's not just her," Joe began, his voice serious. "I know I've been distant, with the season and everything. But you're my priority, always." His fingers traced lingering patterns into your ribcage under the water. "I don't want anything to come between us."
Your heart swelled at his words, his voice devoid of any sign of doubt. "I know you don't," you said softly. "We'll do better, baby. I know we can."
Joe nodded, a serious look crossing his features. "We will. I promise." He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your temple. The silence was a welcome comfort, the weight of your promises lingering in the air.
571 notes · View notes
sebscore · 9 months ago
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EXCUSE ME
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pairings: lewis hamilton x driver!reader
warnings: LEWIS GOING TO FERRARI !!!!!! also there is swearing in this.
author's note: i have finally risen from the death. gzd is back, baby!
masterlist
• • • • • • •
The knocking on his apartment door confused Lewis, not expecting anyone that day. He walked over to the front, and looked through the peephole, frowning at the sight of his younger colleague.
He opened the door. ''Y/N? Hey, how are yo-''
The young woman didn't spare him a glance, walking right past him. ''You are going to fucking Ferrari?!'' She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
Lewis stood there, momentarily stunned, as Y/N breezed past him into his home. He quickly closed the door, while shushing her. ''How do you know about that? How did you even get into the building? I didn't buzz you in.''
''Nico's daughter did, but that's not the point.'' She brushed his latter question off.
''Y/N, she's six.'' He stated, hoping his fellow driver was joking.
''Don't switch topics! You're going to Ferrari, it's actually true?'' She continued probing, absolutely in disbelief about the news she had received.
The man sighed, glancing around as if someone else was there that would be able to hear them. ''Yeah, in 2025.'' Lewis confirmed.
''Oh my fucking God…'' Y/N slowly sank down on his couch, in shock at the news of him leaving Mercedes the following season. ''Lewis, this is huge.''
He carefully nodded. ''How do you know this? I've barely told anyone, not even Toto knows.'' There had been a permanent frown on his face the moment she knocked on his door.
She smirked. ''Sorry, my sources stay with me.''
Lewis narrowed his eyes at her. ''I won't tell anyone. I'm excellent at keeping secrets.'' The Brit grinned.
''Yeah, clearly.'' Y/N teasingly scoffed, receiving a light push from the World Champion. ''But, dude, this is massive!''
The World Champion simply chuckled at her response, loving the dramatics.
''Lewis, this is like Zayn leaving One Direction! Like when this news drops, everyone will remember where they were on the day that Lewis 'The Great' Hamilton joined Ferrari!'' Lewis just watched on as he let the woman deliver her monologue, enjoying himself.
''Does Nico know?'' She asked him, the face of the German suddenly popping into her mind.
He shook his head, laughing in confusion. ''No, why would he?''
She shrugged her shoulders. ''To rub it in his face, I don't know.''
Lewis chuckled, feeling a tension that always resurfaced whenever his former best friend's name was brought up. ''You're a funny girl.''
She leaned back on the couch, crossing her arms, still wearing that playful smirk. "Oh, come on! Picture this: you strolling into the Ferrari hospitality, shades on, and casually waving at Nico like, 'Hey mate, look where I landed.' That would be fucking epic.''
The Brit arched an eyebrow. ''I doubt he cares that much.''
Y/N's jaw dropped, exaggerating her response. ''Lewis, it's Britney we're talking about. The biggest yapper of all time. Of course he cares.''
Lewis burst into laughter at the ''yapping'' comment, unable to resist her infectious enthusiasm. ''Does Nico know you talk about him like this?''
She shot him a sly look. ''Maybe, maybe not. But I can just imagine all the articles already. Oh! Imagine he takes your Merc seat! Anything is possible at this point!''
He shook his head, but was still smiling. ''You're on the internet too much.''
''Okay, boomer, and you aren't on the internet enough.'' Y/N retorted.
Lewis raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. "Boomer? Seriously? I'm not that old.'' He gasped.
"Well, you're old in internet years, Lewis.'' She smiled, innocently.
''You're one insult away from being thrown out of my house.''
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''Hey, Lewis.'' 
''Hey, Pierre. How are you doing?'' He greeted the younger man on the phone. 
Lewis could hear him scratch his voice. ''So, Ferrari, huh?'' Pierre smirked. 
''Not you too!'' The Brit exclaimed, sighing loudly, much to the Frenchman's amusement. ''Where did you get this from?'' He asked. 
Pierre snickered. ''I can't tell you that.'' 
''It was Y/N, wasn't it?'' 
''Yeah…'' 
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jimblejamblewritings · 7 months ago
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love letters and second sons | part 1.
Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.
Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.
Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader
Word Count: 5.4k
Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special
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My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 
I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search. 
I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition. 
Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received. 
I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all. 
Yours truly, 
A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)
My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 
Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there. 
Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea. 
Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws. 
I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed. 
Yours Truly,
Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)
My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 
I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.
I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom. 
Yours truly, 
Youngest Princes Y/N Kew 
The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention. 
Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them. 
They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.
But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama. 
In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters. 
“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.” 
“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them. 
Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?” 
Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?” 
“Everything is wrong with that.” 
“Hmm.” 
He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face. 
“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.” 
Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?” 
Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.” 
Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.” 
“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.  
“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said. 
“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.” 
The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud: 
“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered. 
Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her. 
Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.” 
“Piss off.” 
“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms. 
Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.” 
The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell. 
“I don’t want this anymore.” 
“Cecilia.” 
“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.” 
“Cecilia.” 
“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.” 
“Cecilia.” 
“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.” 
“Please, just give u—” 
“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.” 
“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.” 
Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”
“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.” 
“I second that.” 
“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.” 
“The princess, no doubt.”
”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything. 
That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?” 
“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.
“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.” 
Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.” 
All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society. 
From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today. 
But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps. 
You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness. 
After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get. 
You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham. 
Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month. 
You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen. 
“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.” 
“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?” 
“Not your room?” 
“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.” 
“You are getting restless.” 
“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?” 
“Oh yes, she’s fine.” 
“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.” 
Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name. 
It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact. 
You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.” 
The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.” 
“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.” 
“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?” 
“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.” 
At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you. 
“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?” 
“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.” 
“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?” 
“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.” 
“Yes, Your Highness.”  
“And, by the way, I already washed up.” 
“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.” 
You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room. 
Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora. 
“Oh, good. It is just you.” 
“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?” 
You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.” 
“What?” 
“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.” 
“Your Highness.” 
“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.” 
Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.” 
She gasped as you hugged her. 
“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.” 
“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.” 
You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.  
You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination. 
The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?” 
“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it. 
The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs. 
“Is there a problem, Marshall?” 
He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.” 
“WHAT?!” 
The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back. 
You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance. 
Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss. 
“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…” 
“Beckett,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name. 
“Mrs. Beckett?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all. 
“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.” 
“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.” 
You nodded. “Simply Miss Beckett.” 
“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.” 
Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues. 
“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.” 
He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.” 
“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.” 
They all chuckled when you laughed. 
You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.” 
The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you. 
“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?” 
“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.” 
“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?” 
“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time. 
You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.” 
“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.” 
“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.” 
It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.  
Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?” 
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 
“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”
(part 2)
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