#and since it’s been a long time since I posted one

[mxrcielaguito]

Oh boi, I've been wanting to write Elliott x Farmer for a while so here we go:

Based off one of the comments of the original post

"I would suggest we make time for a little 'rendezvous' in my old cabin... But I'm afraid it's become rather... Musty... In my absence" Elliott says. I'd like to think he's being playful but I can't really tell. His words are mischievous but his eyes seem melancholic. I mean, well, he writes angsty stuff all the time, why would this be any different, he loves feeling melancholic. He's an overemotional drama queen, and that's pretty much why I fell for him in the first place. But something's off today.

I look at him, up and down. Wouldn't be the first time we escape a social gathering and make time for ourselves. I work relentlessly. He writes relentlessly. Our kids mess around the house relentlessly, too.

"Why not?" I suggest. "It's not like anyone's paying attention."

His green eyes widen, his face blushes for just an instant and I recognize his look. He bites his lower lip, grabs my arm and pulls me into the cabin so quickly I can't even react. As soon as I step into the cabin I understand what he meant by "musty". The air feels heavy, humid, and the wood is starting to decay. His old piano is still there; withering away.

He locks the door behind us and I can already feel his heavy breath. I can't help but find it cute. It's been three years and he still gets all hot and bothered. He's turning his back on me, his hand still on the door knob.

"Elliott? Are you all right?" I ask.

"I have really neglected this place, haven't I..." He murmurs. "It's- it's not romantic at all, I-..."

"Love, it's okay, I don't mind" I try to reassure him, rubbing his back. Something's wrong but I'm not can't put my finger on it. "It's been quite some time since the last time you came here, huh."

Elliott laughs nervously and forces himself to let go of the door knob. He turns around and looks at his cabin, his eyes scanning every corner.

"I really used to live like this, didn't I?"

"I didn't know this place brought you bad memories", I say, my voice soft, almost a whisper. I know we don't talk much; my words are usually rather scarce, I can't remember the last time we sat and spoke to each other. I'd rather listen, but Elliott doesn't speak too much, either.

He runs a hand through his copper hair.

"Once upon a time, there lived a man by the sea..." Elliott speaks quietly, absently. "He dreamed of fame and greatness; he dreamed of people remembering his name. However, that day never came, and his little cabin by the sea, he let it rot away."

I frown, trying to make a meaning off of this.

"My father bought this cabin a long time ago, we used to have our vacation here, when I was a kid. With time I guess we all forgot about it, then I remembered it when he kicked me out."

My eyes widen.

"He... Kicked you out? Why am I learning about this just now?!"

"Well, he wasn't happy when I said I wasn't pursuing a career in the family business." Elliott runs his hand through the dusty desk, then fidgets around with an old inkwell. The ink has been dry for a very long time. "I didn't have much money. I was running out when I met you."

"That part, I remember, yeah", I reply.

"It's not that this cabin holds bad memories, as you said. It just a reminder of almost everything that hasn't worked out in my life. All the scrapped manuscripts. All the arguing with my father. All the times I stayed up late, trying to come up with the perfect plot, the perfect words, the perfect... Everything" he closes his eyes and sighs. I look at him and take his hand in mine. I love it: it's so soft. "And then, one day, you showed up and took care of that old farm nobody cared about. And you took care of me..."

He leans his head over mine. His hair tickles my nose, and it smells like pomegranate shampoo.

"I can take care of this place, too" I suggest, trying to cheer him up. "Just like I did with the farm."

"No, no. This place is mine to bear, not yours. However I would like to take your example and make this old place something worth the effort. Something out kids will be happy inheriting."

I look up at him and smile.

"Yeah? You wanna do that?"

Elliott smiles and nods. I feel his hand make its way through my eternally sore back to my waist. I rest my hand on his, fidgeting with his wedding ring.

"It's not that musty", I tease, after a very long silence. "The bed's still in good shape."

When you're just trying to make some goddamn soup but Elliott wants to have sex in his mouldy ass cabin.

[ellecdc]

hey elleeeee

could i pretty please do 🐻 the sharing a bed prompt, “cuddling in their sleep” + “waking up with their faces centimetres apart”. with remus but theyre not together just pinNING for eachother and this happens.

consider it done

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who cuddle for warmth and that's totally it [641 words]

CW: fem!reader, Remus sort of pining, but maybe it's not one sided!?!?, fluff, sort of a continuation from this post

Remus thinks he should perhaps feel a little guilty having taken advantage of the current situation; his original offer certainly hadn’t been a selfless one. 

Was the flat sodding freezing? Yes, it was. Would he have been up worrying all night that you’d died of hypothermia in your own bed? Absolutely. Was it indeed warmer having consolidated every blanket and pillow the two of you owned into one bed and sharing body heat to stay more comfortable? Damn right it was. 

But, it was because of all these aforementioned reasons that Remus felt it was perhaps a touch unethical to be enjoying his current situation as much as he did. 

The two of you were gripping each other’s hands and arms as if you were both afraid the other would simply float away had you not been holding on for dear life. The soft, cloud filtered light bathing your face in its glow; your head resting on one of his pillows he hoped to god smelled like you, now, that was but a few measly centimetres away from his own face. 

He found himself nearly holding his breath as though he was afraid to disturb the peace of this moment, one that he'd been fighting against yet secretly yearning for since he realised how much he enjoyed your presence; perhaps a bit too much to be simply considered roommates, or even just friends. 

He catalogued the way your eyelashes fanned from beneath your closed eyes and kissed the tops of your cheeks, fluttering ever so slightly when something would happen in your dream. He revelled in the way that you seemed to be smiling, even in your sleep; your lips relaxed and pursed ever so slightly as you breathed through your nose. 

Your nose - it was stupid and foolish and silly, but fuck - he loved your nose.

And this might well and truly be the one and only time he got to enjoy you like this, so sue him for what he did next.

He hardly had to move at all, really, he simply pushed his chin forward so that his nose bumped into yours. He was checking, you see, because he knew his nose was cold from the cool air surrounding your nest of pillows and blankets and body heat, but he needed to see if yours was too. He couldn’t in good conscience sit here and admire your nose if you were about to lose it to frostbite, now could he? 

Remus found himself smiling at the fact that your nose, for whatever reason, was slightly warmer than his. Good, he thought, I’d like her to keep her nose. 

“You’re supposed t’be sleeping.” You blurt rather suddenly for Remus’ tastes, still never opening your eyes as Remus rears his head back, though you strengthen your hold on his hands and arms so that he can’t actually move away from you.

“How long have you been awake?” He accuses you instead of admitting he was being a creepy fuck and watching you sleep.

You don’t answer him, though. Instead, you let out a languid stretch before releasing your hold of his hands in favour of wrapping your arms around his torso and slotting yourself against him; legs tangled with his and your nose - colder than the skin of his collarbone - pushing into his neck as you tucked yourself under his chin. 

“Go t’sleep, Rem.” You order him, tightening your hold around his chest as he allows his arms to cautiously encircle you in his own embrace; one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, and the other cupping the back of your head lovingly. 

He didn’t follow your order, unfortunately. But he did spend the rest of the morning wondering, hoping, nearly begging the universe that perhaps this might not be the last time he gets to enjoy you like this.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch5. child's play

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 5/x

ᰔ words. 4.8k

a/n. helloo my ihm friends! long time no see. hope you're all doing well and thank you so much to everyone who sent me kind messages about the whole ihm gojo ex wife thing haha. i really appreciate it :) i feel more confident about my writing decisions now, and that's all thanks to you guys! anyways, i will be posting shorter chapters for ihm going forward, so sorry if some chapters have slightly abrupt endings or stuff like that. i guess my goal is to post shorter chapters but more frequently! we'll see how it works out. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and see you at the bottom!!

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 (pending)

Ever since admitting your mother into hospice, things have been calmer inside your mind. After passing the initial wave of agony that came with no longer hearing her voice down the hall or seeing her silhouette in her bedroom as you walked past it, you realized that…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. No longer setting alarms at the height of every other hour to remind your mother to take her medication, no longer viewing every interaction you had with her as some form of study you needed to jot down in a binder for her neurologist’s records, and no longer driving her to all of her chemotherapy appointments, only to leave them feeling like you purposefully just took your mother to a place where they sucked all the life out of her in exchange for the slim promise of giving it all back to her someday.

Maybe it was evident in the way your shoulders felt less tense as you rolled them back, tilting your neck to the side and no longer feeling the painful strain that tugs a wince onto your face. The other day, you caught yourself humming a song as you drove to work. Your skin, usually feeling cracked and dry from stress and exhaustion, now has a slight plumpness to it like before. A more youthful glow, like the version of yourself you were before your mother became sick. The version of you that so quickly deteriorated, and one you didn’t even know still existed somewhere within you. 

There has also been time for hobbies. Rarest of occasions, you find yourself sauteing some yellow and white peaches in a saucepan over medium heat in Gojo’s kitchen, humming that song once again that’s been stuck in your head. The sundress you’re wearing matches the pink of the syrup that pools at the bottom of the pan, and you feel like you’re living your cottage core dreams in this brief moment of reprieve you’ve allowed yourself to fall into.

The sound of slippers tapping down onto the hardwood floor startles you out of your gleeful trance, and you turn your neck to the right to see a pajama-clad messy-haired Gojo shuffling his feet across the open area into the kitchen with a dark black mug in his hand.

“Why aren’t you dressed??” you ask him in a panic.

“I’ll get dressed later,” he tells you dismissively as he grabs the glass pitcher of coffee from where the coffee machine was nestled up against one of the counter corners.

“You’re stressing me out. Your mom told us to be there in two hours,” you say, putting your hands on your hips in disapproval as you hear the sizzle of the peaches in the saucepan. 

He entirely ignores you, choosing to instead drag his gaze down the form of your body. “Woooow, twice this month I get to see you in a cute dress,” he comments, pouring coffee into his mug but his eyes are still on you, “lucky me.”

“Oh Shut. Up,” you sneer at him with a harsh roll of your eyes, “your fake flattery might work on the lonely middle-aged women you seduce to make a living, but it won’t work on me.”

His shoulders push back before he slumps them slightly, his brow lifting with confusion. “It’s not fake though? I mean it. You look really nice right now.”

You point an accusatory sugar-syrup coated wooden spatula at him. “You’ve just been conditioned by the patriarchy to get a boner at the sight of a woman in a kitchen.”

“What–...no–...why do you always have to say stuff like that whenever I compliment you? Can’t you just accept it?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be flattered by an insolent man like you.”

He sighs, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, and you watch the way the fringe of his hair hangs over his forehead as he gazes into the contents, swirling it around with a loose grip on the handle. “Is this how it’s going to be everyday? I try to be nice, and you–...well, you know, are you.”

“Well who else should I be?”

His eyes lift up to meet yours, the slightest of a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes wander down the form of you again. “I don’t know. Someone a little…softer? Like, you’ve got this really pretty dress on, and then you’re telling me off about patriarchy-induced boners. It’s a little, uh, contradictory?”

You gasp. “You’re trying to control me. I knew it. You are poisoned by the patriarchy.”

“What?”

Your eyes narrow at him. “You have this image of a perfect and cute little wife, who’s gonna wear pretty dresses all the time, and bake stuff in the kitchen, and get all blushy when you tell her she looks beautiful, and you expect her to have this soft little personality that never argues with you or disagrees with you…ALL BECAUSE OF THE PATRIARCHY!!!”

“...I–...Okay, you’ve lost me.”

You let out a hmph! noise. “Can’t even discern his own brainwashing. Sad.”

“All of this just because I tried to tell you that you look nice?”

“I know what your ulterior motives are, you creep.”

His eyes spark a little at that, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a cheeky grin as he sets the coffee mug down onto the marble counter and he straightens his spine. You blink, watching with confusion as he crosses the distance between the two of you, to where you’re taking a small few steps backwards until your lower back presses against the edge of the island countertop. He cages you into the surface with his frame, followed by the palms of his hands sliding over the marble on both sides of you, and you feel his forearms press against the curve of your waist as he traps you in with no way out.

“S-Satoru,” you stutter, looking up at him with wide eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says, his voice deeper with a nonchalance that has you shiver, his gaze dropping to your lips when you part them slightly.

“T-The patriar–” you squeak out, but he suddenly dips his head down to kiss you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes immediately closing when he moves his lips against yours, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him and your hesitation is something that only lasts a brief second before you find yourself kissing him back. Some noise leaves his throat, deep and raw and sounding pleasantly surprised as he captures your lips more fervidly now, his hands smoothing down to hold your hips and his teeth slightly nip at your bottom lip. 

You grab a fistful of his shirt, unsure of whether you want to pull him closer to you or push him away, but the moan that you mumble against his lips only makes his grip on your hips even stronger, fingers digging into the softness through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The oven suddenly starts beeping, startling you and you pull away from the kiss with a gasp, eyes rounded as you look up at him, but his are lidded and dilated as his gaze remains glued to your lips. 

With a heaving chest, you try to push him away by a weak fist to his sternum but he’s unrelenting.

“You taste sweet,” he says, like some comment he noted in his head but accidentally voiced out loud.

“I–...” you inhale sharply, “I just ate three macerated peaches.”

“Uh-huh,” he barely acknowledges before leaning in to get another taste, but you push him away harsher this time.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, finally breaking out of that kiss-induced trance he was in, but he still remains close to you in proximity, so much so to where you can feel the heat from his body. It’s comforting almost, radiating through the soft cotton of his long sleeve shirt, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning towards him before you snap out of it too, and rock your weight back against the island countertop.

You cross your arms over your chest, hoping the flush to your cheeks isn’t showing. “Oh okay so we just casually kiss now?”

He shoves his hands into his plaid pajama pant pockets, leaning away from you slightly. “For as long as I can get away with it, yeah.”

“You are breaking the rules.”

“You never said no kissing.”

“I said no touching.”

“Ehhh kissing isn’t really touching, though, is it?”

“You sound stupid.”

“I always sound stupid to you.”

The oven starts beeping again, and you realize it’s long been preheated to the setting you had placed earlier. You slip away from him with haste, feeling his gaze on you as you press a button on the oven to turn the alarm off, and you stare at the handle for a moment or two to calm the beating of your heart down. 

Your eyes catch sight of something on the side of the fridge. A little magnet made of rubber that has the word London on it as well as the design of the Westminster Cathedral with golden accents. You recall that Gojo went on a trip to London recently, and that he didn’t bring you back any souvenirs from there like he did for your other neighbors. And you want to pretend, you want to shove it down, that incessantly childish feeling that wonders why he didn’t bring you anything back. You want to continue to pretend like it doesn’t hurt your feelings. Something so miniscule and small. But you–...well, you can’t.

You spin around to face him. “Do you hate me?” you bluntly ask.

He blinks at you. “Huh?”

“Do you, what, I don’t know, think I’m annoying or something?”

He shrugs with his hands still in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, I do think you’re annoying sometimes. But in a silly way. Like we’re just pals horsin’ around, y’know?”

You snarl at him, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your gaze until he’s hardly even visible anymore. “No. I actually find you annoying. Like, wanna-run-you-over-with-a-bus annoying. You just have horrendous social awareness and think that everyone loves you.”

“You actually don’t like me?” he asks, like he can’t even believe that someone wouldn’t.

“Yes,” you say, “now get out of my way.” You make an attempt to push past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder into him to assert dominance but he is unfortunately much bigger than you and so all it does is make you stumble ungracefully from the recoil.

He quickly grabs your arm to steady you, and you glare up at him before yanking yourself away and then step backwards until your back hits the fridge.

He studies your demeanor for a second before taking a deep inhale, and then lets it all go in a heaving sigh. “What do I have to do to get you to lighten up a bit?” he asks.

“You really want to know?” you sneer at him.

“Yes,” he says with a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

You cross your arms. “Pay for the fucking fence.”

He blinks at you, confusion replacing whatever frustration was previously decorating his tone. “What?”

“The fence,” you reiterate with a step forwards towards him, “the one I built six months ago. The one where you laughed in my face when I told you to help pay for it.”

He leans forward. “Yeah. Because I never wanted that fence built. Like I said, it fucked up the roots on my avocado tree. You should’ve asked me before building it. In fact, it’s illegal to build a fence without joint consent of both neighboring property owne–”

“Oh my god, okay, see? This is why I can’t stand you,” you snarl at him and make another move to get past him but he easily steps in front of you to keep you from going anywhere.

With a sigh, he relents. “Fine, I’ll pay for the fence.”

You try to keep the twitching muscles of your face still as you resolutely stare up at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. Through a strained tone, you say, “No. I don’t want you to pay for it anymore.”

He lifts a brow, utterly bewildered at this point. “Huh?”

“Now it just feels like pity. And I don’t want your pity money.”

“Two seconds ago, you did.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That was two seconds ago.”

“So…let me get this straight, you don’t want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to have wanted to pitch in SIX MONTHS AGO.”

“Okay but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that now?”

“NOTHING!!!” you finally snap at him, the shrill to your voice startling him slightly to where you see his shoulders jump, and his eyes are now rounded blue as he looks at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it, there’s nothing you can do to get me to ‘lighten up’ or ‘act softer’ or whatever the fuck kind of damage control you aim to achieve with me due to your pestering incessant need to be liked by every fucking person you come across. So just deal with the fact that I hate you and let me do it in peace.”

He’s silent for what feels like a long time as he blinks at you, his bottom lip pushing up slightly in a way that suggests he’s almost impressed by your little outburst, then he takes a step forward, and in that one large stride, he’s closed any distance between the two of you. Your back is up against the frigid steel of the fridge, your heels tucked under the warm rubber at the foot of it, and you’re looking up at Gojo as he towers over you, his hands still annoyingly and relaxedly shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a problem that I think you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?” he asks you.

A small puff of air leaves your lips, like you just can’t believe the audacity, but also having him this close to you suddenly made it a little harder to breathe. “C–...Can you just be fucking serious for one second?”

His head dips down, the fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, tip of his nose slightly brushing against yours, but his gaze never falls to your lips. “You think I’m not being stupid fuckin’ serious when I say that you’re hot?”

“S–” your breath hitches in your throat, and his gaze finally falls to the lick you pass over your lips, “Satoru–”

Like God himself answered to your (cognitively dissonant) prayers, the bell rings, and Gojo leans himself away from you, straightening his spine so he can glance over his shoulder towards the door, a slight look of irritation on his face through the furrow of his brow.

You blink up at him. “A–...Are you expecting someone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “No. Don’t think so.” He sighs before shuffling around the kitchen island and across the dining hall towards the entryway of the house, and you peer at the sight from across the hall.

When he opens the door, you see Sana standing outside, dressed in mom jeans and a t-shirt with her black Coach purse slung around her shoulder, arms crossed, and you barely register the fact that she looks pissed.

“Sana?” Gojo says, “what’s up.”

She entirely ignores him when she catches sight of you, pushing right past him and into the family room that you were currently finding solace in.

“You,” she points at you, storming right up to your personal space, “what the hell did you say to Juno when you were babysitting her?!”

“H-Huh??” you squeak out, taking a step backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“You told her to fight kids at school?!” she snarls at you, and your eyes widen.

“What?” you say, your face twisting with confusion, “I–...I never said that. I just said that she should stand up for herself if she needs to.”

Sana inhales deeply with rage, leaning back and jutting her hip out as she crosses her arms again. “Yeah, well, I had to pick her up early from school today because the principal called and told me she shoved a little girl on the playground during recess, and now she’s facing suspension.”

Gojo approaches suddenly from your periphery, standing in front of you as he faces Sana. You stand on your tiptoes to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why would Juno do something like that?

You hear Sana start to tap her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, and then she turns her head away from Gojo as a slight hmph! noise leaves her throat. “The why is irrelevant.”

You poke your head out from behind Gojo and glare at her, but then Gojo turns around suddenly to look at you.

“y/n,” he says, “what’s going on?”

“I–” you start, glancing at Sana again who now has a solemn look on her face with pursed lips. You glance back at Gojo, who’s looking at you with confusion and anticipation. A heat spreads down your neck from the attention of the both of them on you, and you’re not sure what the smart thing to say is, so you figure you’ll just tell the truth as it is. “...I just didn’t want her getting bullied and thinking she can’t stick up for herself.”

At that, you see Gojo’s shoulders stiffen. “Bullied?” he repeats after you, then quickly turns towards Sana, “what does she mean, bullied? Juno’s getting bullied at school?”

Sana faces him full-on, raising a stern pointed finger between the two of them “No. Satoru. Stop. You always do this. This has nothing to do with you, so don’t even start. It’s not a big deal, let’s not make it one.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s not a big deal? She’s getting bullied at school, and you want her to just suck it up?” he asks, venom dripping from his tone. 

“It’s for her benefit!” Sana exclaims. “Jun and I have spent months trying to get her into this school! We don’t want her getting kicked out.”

“Y’know, I’m–” you stutter, “I’m gonna–...I’m just gonna go upstairs,” you say, “this seems like a family matter. I think you guys should probably just settle this on your ow–”

“No,” Gojo says, pointing to the couch that you were standing in front of, “sit down.”

You sit.

Gojo turns to face Sana again, and although you can’t see his face, you imagine he’s pissed off from the way Sana’s shoulders drop slightly and her sharp expression is cut into a more sheepish one.

“Who cares if Juno is suspended for sticking up for herself? It’s the teachers’ fault for not making sure she’s safe,” he says.

“Shoving other kids is not the solution.”

“Well if you fuck around, then you find out. Kids are too soft these days.”

“This is not the 90s, Satoru.”

You watch the back and forth between the two of them for the better part of an entire minute, feeling uneasy in the hostile environment of the room, but there’s a sense of underlying familiarity between the two, one that is recognizable amongst family. And you feel rather foreign, but then remember that, technically speaking, now that you’re married to Gojo, this is your family too.

Amongst the arguing of the adults, none of you noticed that Juno had gotten out of the car in the driveway and was now standing in the doorframe of the front entrance. She looks scared and guilty, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her, and you notice her scrapes and bruises that you tended to last week were now mostly healed. 

Gojo catches sight of her, and you see his shoulders relax. “Juno, c’mere.”

With the permission, she instantly runs towards him and into his arms from where he was crouched down to the floor in order to welcome her, and then she starts sobbing.

“I’m–hic,” she cries, “I’m so–hic–I’m so sowwyyy Uncle Toru…I’m–hic–I’m sorry mommyyyy.” 

You see Sana sigh and she makes a move to brush Juno’s tear-dampened hair out of her face when Gojo pulls her away from his shoulder by a delicate hold of her bony little shoulders.

“Juno. Listen. If people are being mean to you, then you do exactly as your auntie y/n said. You stand up for yourself. And if that doesn’t work, then you cuss at them and threaten to shove their faces into the dirt until they run away with their tails between their legs. Do you understand me?” Gojo tells her.

Sana gives you a pointed look.

“Oh, I–” you put your hands up in front of you, “I didn’t say any of that last part.”

“Do you understand me?” Gojo repeats again, and Juno nods her head slowly before she falls back into him and soaks his shirt with tears. “I’m soowwwwwyyyyyy.”

Gojo pats her back a few times to comfort her, and your heart breaks for the little girl. It’s bad enough to be bullied at school, but then to be reprimanded by your mother the one time you stand up for yourself…you can imagine how emotionally exhausting that would be for a five-year-old. 

Juno sniffles, rubbing her snot all over the cotton of Gojo’s shirt, and then pulls her face away to rub at her eye with a weakly closed fist. “I–hic–I just…I just wanted him to feel–hic–the same hurt.”

“Huh? Who?” Gojo asks.

“The boy,” Juno says, “the one that shoved me today.”

“It was a boy?!?!?!” Gojo yells. “Alright. That’s it. I’m grabbing my bat.”

“Satoru.” Sana deadpans.

Sana and Gojo continue to bicker about the ethics of threatening five-year-old boys with baseball bats, going back and forth about how Gojo wasn’t actually going to do anything but just wanted to instill fear (he’s lying), while Sana isn’t exactly sold on a single pacifist thing that he says, and you sigh, because you realize you’ve become invested in one of, what you feel like will become many, of their family quarrels.

Juno sneaks around Gojo’s legs and comes up to you while the arguing is taking place in the background, and she gently taps your knee as you’re seated on the couch. “Auntie y/n,” she whispers.

You rub an eye crustie from her face and then hold her hand in yours. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm? For what?”

She smiles at you, her cheeks pink and flush from crying but rounded now in glee. “My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that, sweetheart?”

Why wouldn’t Sana and Jun be on normal talking terms? What does Juno mean that it’s been a long time? What exactly was going on at home?

“Juno,” Sana’s voice interrupts your thoughts, her arms crossed across her chest, “c’mon. Let’s go.” She points a stern finger at Gojo. “Seriously. I mean it. No baseball bats or rodent traps involved. I’ll talk to the teachers and sort something out.” She glances at you, that strict look on her face now dissolving into one of pure exhaustion. One you can imagine only a mother can face. “See you later at dinner, you two.”

Juno runs up to her mom and grabs onto her outreached hand, and you see Gojo ruffle her hair as she walks past him, her giggles ringing in the air, and then he sees them out the door. 

The air is awkward, at least to you, the second he closes the door, and when he turns around to face you, your body stiffens up.

He leans back onto the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks,” he says, “for telling Juno to stick up for herself.”

You blink at him. “Well. I don’t feel too great about it at the moment, to be honest.”

He sighs. “I just think that Jun and Sana are raising her to be…kinda meek. I wish they’d teach her to be more confident and take up space.”

“Mhm,” you nod. Because you agree. Little girls need to learn how to be that way at a young age, because the world is seldom very kind to them.

“Well, what you said to her is what I would’ve said to her anyways,” he says.

You roll your eyes, standing up from the couch and heading back into the kitchen to presume your work on your peach cobbler. “I never told her to shove kids’ faces into the dirt. But, uh, sure, I guess so.”

You see Gojo enter the kitchen too in your periphery, but you don’t give him any glance or look or attention. From what you can see as you stir around your macerated peaches in a Pyrex bowl, he’s leaning against the island counter about three feet away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s watching you. A slight warmth radiates in your cheeks, but you attempt to ignore the nerves by being hypnotized by the pink syrup that pools at the bottom of the bowl.

My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.

An unsettling feeling takes over your senses. It could be the past few years you’ve spent walking on eggshells around your mother, or the way you’ve become so keen to her energy as a way of staying on top of any shift in her symptoms, any single sign of disease progression, any clue that she wasn’t getting better. Any clue that she wasn’t doing okay. And you feel a sense of dread, because that skill, you realize, has now made you aware of similar circumstances in the people around you.

Not to mention, you are a child of divorce. You know what that fear feels like.

You just want to know if Juno feels safe at home.

“Hey, um…” you start, turning slightly to finally face Gojo, your eyes hesitantly flickering up to meet his gaze, “when was the last time you saw your brother-in-law? And with Sana?”

He raises a brow at you. “I just saw them last weekend for one of Juno’s dance recitals.”

“Ah…I see,” you say. You purse your lips together. 

Right. Kids say things all the time. They believe in Santa Claus and think that blueberry pancakes are called blubbery pancakes. And they sometimes read too into things, and they sometimes read too little. Surely, things must be okay. Maybe Sana and Jun had had a little argument with some stubbornly thawing cold shoulders, a demeanor that was noticed by their child, and now things have resumed to normal. That was normal. Part of every family. “That’s good to know…” 

You turn away from Gojo to stare back down into the bowl of macerated peaches again. With a furrowed brow, you close your eyes tightly to try to shake the chilly feeling in your bones, and you feel better when you open them again. The slightly numb sensation in your hand dissipates and you have enough dexterity to mix the peaches around in the bowl.

“I wonder what news they want to share with us over dinner,” you say, to quell the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Gojo hums, and you see him turn around face the counter now, hovering over the bowl of raw crumble topping you had mixed together, prodding at it with the wooden spoon. “Oh, they’re moving.”

Your head snaps to look at him. “W-What?”

“Yeah,” he nonchalantly affirms, scooping up a spoonful of the crumble. “They wanted to up-size, and move a little closer to the school that Juno’s at. I found them a nice place about an hour from here on the outskirts of the city. They just signed the papers a couple weeks ago.” And then he shoves the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh…wow,” you say. “Okay…”

“Damn,” Gojo says with surprise laced in his tone, "this is really good.” He’s staring into the bowl in awe and then scoops up some more crumble with a spoon.

You blink at him, irritated that he’s eating all your ingredients without even asking, and before you’ve even finished your dessert. It’s like he was born to piss you off.

You walk up to him and yank the bowl away, “Gimme that.” Then you pull it into the divot of your waist possessively and glare at him. 

He sighs, and then says something out loud that you’re sure he meant to keep in his head:

“I’ll get used to it.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. it feels so strange to post such a short chapter bahaha hopefully the ending isn't too abrupt. but hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry ab the slow burn in this series aaa but i can try to assure you that it'll all be worth it hopefully lol i'm really excited for what i have planned for this series!! alsooo sorry if there are errors or anything, i'm trying to spend less time editing since it really stalls me n leads to writer's block lol. hope to see you in the next one :) much love! - ellie

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[galaxitix]

Ehhh... I'm wasn't even sure what to write...(⁠─⁠.⁠─⁠|⁠|⁠）

I accidentally set my friend up with a guy without realizing till I become the third wheel on a recent outing. (I don't mind being a third wheel but I'm more shocked that they were dating, nothing official yet. she nicknamed him shoe stepper, name self-explanatory. annoyed her by stepping on her shoes and pretending nothing happened in a joking way). My friend thought I set them up on purpose, calling me a secret shipper, I didn't confirm or deny that statement, cause it was funny to me, didn't even knew they were dating till that moment. Fyi, he knew I was coming along and had no problem, so no i didn't crash their date(even though I thought it was just a regular outing between friends). Happy for her all the same, kinda wish love was that easy for me, it's only been 3 months since we started school T-T.

Once had a guy get mad at me for 'leading him on' despite making myself clear from the start that I wasn't going to get start dating a guy who happened to walk up to me randomly one day, but I wouldn't mind being friends to get to know each other (I didn't knew the guy and he was like 5 or so years older than me who just graduated highschool at the time). I also re-stated this over text that I only wanted to be friends. Couple weeks of texting then he randomly asked how I 'felt' about him. Long story short, I 'friendzoned' him then he got all mad at me for being fake and 'like other girls', leaning him on and I reminded him that I told him before I only wanted to be friends from the start, send him proof of my text that specifically stated that. He ghosted me after that text and I couldn't care less, blocked him then and there. He was just playing nice guy to eat in my pants anyways. How I know? 1. this guy's first question to me was if I still have my 'V card' (should have blocked him then but curiosity killed the cat I suppose. ) 2. His status that he post said a lot about him, it's disgusted me but I wasn't really surprised 😑 (I'm a girl that hardly checked people's status on Whatsapp, hence why it took me longer to see his true nature)

Oh and I have freckles on the back of my hands, inherited from my father.

(realize I just ended up rambling but oh well ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

Tags...hmm @donnietheterrapin @littlemissartemisia @bubblegum-flavored-timemachine and anyone else who want to do a lore drop

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

[bunnys-kisses]

⋆⋅☆max v. with a trans masc partner☆⋅⋆

max verstappen knew what he liked. while he usually put the front as a heterosexual man, he had always been a little more fluid about his sexuality outside of the limelight. he had kissed many men in his life as with women, even those who were neither men nor women. kissing was fun, sex was fun. and he wasn't going to limit himself to one set of tools to get the job down. a cock down the throat could be as delightful as sinking into a sweet pussy.

so it was more of a surprise for you to receive max's advances than it was for him to give them.

you remembered when you grandmother told you that she was concerned about you transitioning because you may "never find love" and you told her that it didn't matter. cars were your love, you didn't need a person to fill that gap. so when you met the three time world champion as the new mechanic for the 2024 season, you honestly didn't think too much about wooing him romantically.

but, max was wooed by you. especially when he saw that your lockscreen of your phone was a picture of your two cats, and when he brought up his cats, you just lit up. max liked that you treated him like he was a person. and you simply said, "mate, i'm pretty certain they don't let robots drive these cars." then slapped him on the back, "but i will make you bleed red if you total my car." then flashed him a smile.

you remembered the first time max kissed you. the dutch grand prix had been a total success and within the quietness of the garage post-race with the trophy max had won near by. he took you by the waist and kissed you. he'd later admit that he wanted to do it right on the track.

"do you kiss all your mechanics like that, verstappen?"

"no, only the ones who allow me to win." you two had spent almost the entire season bitching about red bull. max wondered if or when he eventually jumped teams, if he could take you with him. as he held you in his arms. chest to chest.

you admitted close to his ear, a little insecure, "i hope you know. i've built myself... i was born a girl, but became something more. different." then tried to pull back, fearful of his response. you weren't trying to trick him, you'd rather have it on the table.

but he pulled you back in, his blue eyes on you, "you act like i don't know what transgender people are, mechanic." he said as he leaned you back a little, to get a fuller look at you, "you act like i've never been to bed with one."

"i don't want to be a one night stand." you said, your hands on the front of his polo shirt. his hat long hit the floor in the heat of the kiss. you swallowed, "i won't be a toy, verstappen. i have too much respect for myself."

he chuckled, "that's what i like to hear." he held you around the waist and you kissed once more. he could feel the rise in his blood pressure. while you could've easily done it in the garage, max gave you the address of where he was staying and the lie to tell security.

the mechanics team were in another hotel, but if you wore your red bull branded uniform and had your mechanic's pass then you'd get in easily. they'd never suspect that you'd be intimate with the star of the team. and you did just that. even flashing a smile at security before you headed up to the elevator. they didn't even ask questions, which made your life easier.

you found max's room and he happily brought you in. but once the door was closed behind you. his strong arms were around you. he smiled at you, happy to see you. you carefully touched his face, part of you believed this was a strange dream after too many rum and cokes. but as you felt his facial hair under your hand, this was all painfully real.

"do you want this?" he asked.

you nodded and responded with a question of your own, "do you?"

his smile grew a little more, he leaned in closer to you. you only now realized how blue his eyes were, "since the moment i saw you come to the garage. you were more impressed with the car than with me... i found it endearing." he chuckled.

you held his face with both hands and gazed at him, "yeah, because it's a piece of shit car for a champion. it's like giving the king aluminum instead of gold."

he laughed before he leaned in for a kiss. you held his face close to yourself and you felt something bloom in your gut. eventually you got your worn sneakers kicked off and the jacket of your uniform off. it left you in a white t-shirt and max started to strip as well. you eyed his form and he eyed yours.

you felt his heated gaze linger on your chest for a moment and without thinking you crossed your arms across where your top surgery scars were. it was habit at that point.

max was in just his jeans and socks. he reached for your arms. feeling your warm under his palm as he carefully moved your arms away. he wanted to admire you, all of you.

"must've felt very different after the surgery." he said as he held your wrists, his eyes gazed on the fading scars. he was in no way to judge about scarring. at least yours were for something worthwhile, to change yourself in such a fundamental way, "was it scary?"

you shook your head, "no... i wanted to do everything afterwards. my doctor basically put me on bed rest because i was trying to push myself too hard. what was a four week recovery turned in seven."

he placed his hands on your flat chest and could feel the slight raise of the scars under his palms, "you push yourself too hard."

you swallowed, feeling the heat in your cheeks, "if you want to be the best. you have to do more than your best." your gaze met his. it felt so painfully intimate. this wasn't just sex in a hotel room, this was intimacy. max wanted more than your body, he wanted to know all the nooks of your soul and what inhabited them.

he leaned in once more, "we have that in common." before he kissed you once more. his kiss was sweeter, an assurance that you and your body were nothing to be ashamed of. if anything he admired it, even though he couldn't relate to the feelings you carried. he could at least understand the guts it took to go through it.

to become more than you what was given to you. it endeared you to him as you broke the kiss and continued to get undressed. the more of your bodies exposed to one another, the hotter the room got. even with the air conditioning rattling in the room. you could feel the heat between you two.

max sighed, "i don't have condoms... i can pull out or we can do something else." he explained as he got into the bed with you. both naked. his broad hand grazed across your body.

you responded and placed his hand on your lower abdomen, right before your pussy, "hysterectomy. six months before i started. are you clean though?"

he replied, "yes. been a long time since i've been with someone anyway." he was telling the truth. since you started at the season, everything had become a blur with you and the championship being a central focus.

his pointer finger trailed across the scar for a moment before he took your face in his hands and kissed you once more. you could go on about the shape of your face, but in his hands it felt very small. you hadn't realized that max verstappen had paws instead of hands. the thought made you giggle a little into the kiss.

he pulled away and looked at you before he laid you out on your back. he asked with a small smile, "what are you laughing about?"

you looked up at him and said, "didn't realized that formula one drivers had such big hands. every seen them up close like this before." then yelped a little when max grabbed you by the hips and pushed himself up against you.

he curved his back over you and maintained eye contact, those blue eyes were swimming with lust, "well. it's good you haven't seen others this close up. i might get a little jealous."

you looked away for a moment with a stupid grin on your face, "okay, flirt. why don't we get to it before i melt into this bed." then a soft moan left your lips as he rubbed his cock up against your wet cunt.

he admired you for a moment, hoping the image of your naked body stayed with him for weeks to come. you looked masculine. he wasn't going to say "technically" it's not having sex with a man. you were a man just as much as he was if not more. you had to create your manhood and you made it to perfection.

"i want you." you said softly.

he leaned forward and kissed you gently on the lips before he eased his cock into you. he replied with an equal softness, "i want you too, mechanic." the nickname made your ears hot as he moved against you. he thrusts were gently but gained a steady momentum.

you held onto the covers under your back and let him move against you. once you got a hold of his rhythm, you were able to meet his movements as well. the kisses you two shared grew hot as max planted both hands on either side of you and moved.

you two were moving against one another, locked in a heated kiss. the bed shifted slightly under your movements. max was thankful that were was not a bed on the opposite side of the wall. and that this place had enough insulation to keep your noises muffled.

the last thing he wanted was your integrity to come into question. that you only got to where you were because of your seductive ways. the noises between you two were soft. there was no need to rush, the race was over and tomorrow you'd be on the flight to the next one.

he took your hands and held them by your head, which kept you two close but also allowed him to keep you pinned under him. when you broke the kiss, you rested your forehead against his. the noises were harder to keep under wraps the more you moved. the pleasure felt like fireworks in your brain.

you moaned a little bit before you said, "i was thinking something stupid."

max chuckled his sweaty forehead against yours, "tell me."

"i realized what your eyes remind me of." you admitted softly, "i couldn't quite pin it after we met." you were breathing heavily as you locked your fingers further with his.

"and what do they remind of you?" he asked, curiously. he had heard people refer to them like the ocean, the sky after a store, the definition of blue.

you replied, "home. the lake near where i lived. not scary like the ocean. familiar like the lakes i grew up near."

max had no words, he simply laid another kiss on you. his hands grasped your tightly as you two moved together more. the pace quickened and max knew that he wanted to be in your life for a long period of time. he wanted you to be his home.

you moaned against the kiss, feeling the heat leap in your belly as you felt closer to orgasm. you came first with your lips against his. your back arched but your hands were pinned to the bed. it felt good as pleasure rushed to your brain.

max broke the kiss and continued to move against you. he let go of your hands in favour of your hips where he bounced your further against his cock. it made crackles of pleasure appear in your brain. and he was no better, his heavy breathing and occasional moan fueled his need to finish. and when he did, he did so inside of you. max never thought too much about the surgery you had, but he was thankful for it tonight.

he stayed inside of you for a moment as he cooled down before he left a kiss on the corner of your mouth. full of such tenderness as he pulled out of you and ran his fingers through his short hair.

you laid out next to him and heavily panting, feeling so vulnerable. he stayed closer to you, eventually pulling you to him and resting his chin on top of your head. you got comfortable against him.

"if you have any questions, i can answer them... about the whole trans thing." you swallowed, even now you felt embarrassed bringing it up. you felt it was a mood killer.

he took you by the chin and made you face him. he smiled down at you. he asked one question, "are you happy? did you get the life you wanted?"

you nodded in response, "everything and more." and that was enough for max. anything else you felt the need to tell him would be told with time, after all, max expected to be in your life for many years to come. both as his mechanic and lover.

-

max would only come clean about the relationship two years later. the end of his contract with red bull and a final championship was enough for the driver to retire peacefully. and when he retired, you retired and you made a home in monaco.

the coming out post set the internet ablaze. especially given how long you two had been together. wasn't anything too special, just a small collection of photos that he had taken over your time together. like the time you wore his helmet in 2025 with a big thumbs up. and that time you thoroughly messed up a birthday cake for him, and with the camera in your face, he rubbed the icing off your cheek. the one that really captured eyes was the one that a friend took of you at a house party when max came to visit your home country, with his legs over your strong lap and his lips against your face. you were smiling like the sun. being the center of a media storm was only braved with max by your side. at one point turning your phone off and throwing it onto the couch. his kisses were still loving as always, his words soft, and his affirmations of your gender were often so sweet that you'd cover your face in embarrassment.

you were always comfortable with the idea of not meeting your 'other half', you had been given a second chance at life once you came out. and if no one could accept you then so be it. but as you laid out on the couch laid out against your boyfriend with sassy at your side and your cat between the crook of your knee, you felt loved. <3

a/n: i do write for masc readers as well, both cis and beyond. just not as often because many request femme readers. but if an idea is cooking in your head. hit me with it!

[honeychamomile1]

Odd One Out

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Reader feels invisible around the Pogues.

Warnings: Crying, feeling strongly excluded, comfort, mention of disease, etc.

Note: I know this wasn’t part of my “Future Stories” post, but it’s been a side story for too long so I decided to post it! Hope you like it!

Masterlist

“I’m tellin’ ya, pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, that’s uh,” Pope chuckled at the silly conversation of debate whether the topping belongs on the delicious food or not before finishing his sentence, “the end of discussion. Debate closed.”

The whole room was still trying to wear off its laughter, a few people still going off in a fit before calming down again.

The girl was laughing too, just a lot softer and less full of….what’s the word….happiness.

Most of the time she didn’t know what the jokes were about, or the little references they would whisper to each other were on the topic of. It didn’t help the fact that she was sitting away from the majority of the group, the one sitter arm chair away from the couch they crowded.

She still remembers the encounter of them practically pushing her away from the group, forcing her to sit on the chair alone. She had walked in with them, all of them still laughing at some joke JJ said but of course she couldn’t get a word in on what he spoke at all, for she was always in the back of the group anyhow. The friends had walked in the house, one by one plopping on the couch or on the floor in front of it, so there wasn’t a single little space for her to squeeze in.

If she thought back deeper and shut her eyes, she could still feel the stare they laid upon her, waiting to see her point of action towards the matter. It was almost like they didn’t like her, like if she went near one of the particular that very person would be the unlucky girl or boy to have to deal with her for the rest of the hang out.

So yeah, her cheeks flushed deep red as she stumbled over crossed legs and ankles towards the back of the room, muttering soft pathetic apologies before sitting in the very chair she is sitting in now.

Now it wasn’t so bad, just that she was in the back, meaning all she could see were backs of heads and once in a while profiles. So the bit of participation she wished she had was no longer available, so now she was sitting in the chair, her legs crossed apple sauce style so they wouldn’t accidentally kick someone.

JJ was so close. So close that all she had to do in order to talk to him was tap him on the shoulder. He would turn around and talk to her and smile, giving her one of those blue eye sparkles. Maybe then she’d-

If she kept thinking like this she’d never be able to participate in the conversation. So she forced out a chuckle, trying to ease herself in.

Maybe she could squeeze her own voice in with all the others? If there’s room for them there has to be room for her too, right?

“One time I went to a pizza shop and-“

Her voice dyed out, the response being absolutely nothing. No eye contact, no expression change, not even a glance from anyone, almost like they didn’t even hear her.

She was speaking loud enough, the same volume of everyone else, but she also didn’t want to talk over the whole group just for a grab of attention.

So the conversation she wasn’t included in continued, someone else’s voice covering hers.

That someone else being Kiera, who of course everyone has to pay attention to. “Yeah, I agree, no more pineapple on pizza talk, maybe we should get actual pizza.” She suggested, and everyone loved the sound of that.

So did she, her stomach being the other thing she was thinking about besides the fact she wasn’t being included. She got up with the others, heading out the door behind JJ.

If she just tapped him on the shoulder-

He closed the door. Maybe he didn’t see her, since there was a corner to go around before exiting the house, but he didn’t forget about her, right?

She stared at the closed door, the past events causing small tears to arise in her eyes.

No.

She can’t cry just because someone closed the door in her face. It was such a small thing, a small action of a mistake he might’ve made. She almost expected him to come back, staring at the handle to see if it would twist, awaiting his face to pop in and apologize for the little thing he did.

But he never came.

She took a sharp breath in, reaching forward for the handle herself and leaving the house.

The group was outside piling into the Twinkie, talking about. She went to the side door too, hoping she could squeeze in somewhere.

But all the seats were full, and all the pitiful eyes were on her.

“Oh, there’s no room. Maybe you could drive in your car and meet us there?” Sarah suggested, and it was the first time that day they spoke directly to her. And it should’ve been something she enjoyed, like a little invitation to join the conversation or an offer to squeeze next to someone, them willing to be a little bit uncomfortable just so she could join.

But it was something she wished didn’t happen, because why did she even go to the side of the car in the first place? Did she really think there would be room for her?

“Or someone could squeeze over..?” Sarah trailed off, looking over at the rooms of people, and the girl couldn’t help but notice how John B moved closer to the edge with the window, covering a small space. Her heart broke.

“Or ya could sit on my lap, Princess.” She heard JJ chuckle, and she glanced at him, her broken little heart believing him for a second, her cheeks softly flushing, before realizing it was a joke. Some people laughed, Kie smacking JJ on the arm but there was a smirk on her lips.

The girl cleared her throat awkwardly, fiddling with her hands, all eyes still on her.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna go anymore, I’ll just go home…I’m not feeling so well.” She had to come up with some excuse, some ticket to get out of there, not like they would miss her at all.

She just walked away, heading to the sidewalk to walk home. Alone.

No one wished her well, despite her lie, but she still wished to at least get a “get well soon” or a “goodbye”.

Nothing. Just pity looks as she walked away, not long before chatter filled the car once more and they drove off.

She didn’t feel like eating anymore, despite her stomach yelling at her because she missed the only chance to eat; they would probably make her pay for her own meal anyway.

So she headed home, arms crossed as tears finally made their way down her cheeks. It hurt, the concept of not being included. She was the nickel out of all the pennies. They were all tan skin and smiles, considering themselves lucky because they found each other, very similar to being lucky when you find a penny. But she was all silver and plain, having a different engraving on her and being a different size than everyone else; they were all small and sweet, yet she was the biggest fool out of all of them.

She hated being a nickel. What did she have to do to be a penny?

She didn’t know, and that right there made her cry harder. She wiped at the tears but nothing worked, for whole rivers were already down her face by now. Her heart cracked, she felt it, because she knew if John B moved over just a little there would be enough room for her to sit with them.

But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to sit next to her, like she was some sort of disgusting disease that he didn’t want to catch.

All she wanted was to be included, to feel loved and fit in by them. But she’ll always be the odd one out.

She fell asleep crying, and woke up hungry since she skipped dinner the day before.

She got out of bed, seeing her red-eyed self in the mirror while brushing her teeth.

She decided to go out today, to JJ’s house.

Now, it didn’t seem like a good decision, but she needed comfort and he was the only person she knew that would provide it. Maybe she would tell him how she’s feeling, not the crying all the way home part, and he would assure her he likes her in the group.

At least that’s what her brain told her he’d say.

Because her mother wouldn’t understand, plus she had other things to deal with, and she didn’t want to bother her father with all the work loads he had on his mind.

But JJ, he was the shiniest penny of all of them, and he seems like the only person to trust. Sadly she didn’t forget about the joke he made the day prior, suggesting she sat on his lap, but it was a one time thing and he could’ve been peer pressured to make it.

That’s what her brain kept telling her.

But the morning was sunny and warm, practically begging for her to enjoy it so she couldn’t refuse.

She put on some Jean shorts and a sun shirt, putting some knitted bracelets on her wrist because she saw everyone else wearing one; plus they were fun to make.

She had made one for JJ, his two favorite colors she overheard him reveal tied into the bracelet. She was gonna bring it to his house, maybe have the courage to give it to him.

She got to his house on foot, spotting his blob of blonde hair behind his car hood, where it normally was.

She shyly made her way over, gazing at his car to pass time. She liked how rusty it was, showing its age but it was still quite clean, like it was his prize possession. (It probably was)

“She looks good, doesn’t she?”

She flinched, looking over at him and making eye contact. His blues were something she admired, but looking directly into them overwhelmed her so she looked away. He chuckled.

One of the main reasons why she went to him was because JJ was the type of person who could talk to anybody. He knew the words to say or the way to talk to make the person comfortable (friend wise that is.)

She hoped he would do just that while he talks to her, and so far so good.

She nodded in response, hands in her back pockets of her shorts and fiddling with the bracelet she made him.

“Yeah, looks great.” She assured, despite the fact that she knew he already knew that, but then again it was all worth the smirk he gave in response, leaning back into the hood.

“What’s wrong with it?” She had the courage to ask, hands out of her pockets now and fingers fiddling together.

He shook his head. “Absolutely nothin’, just had to replace the engine.”

She smiled softly at that, glad that there wasn’t anything severely wrong with his car. “That’s good.”

He nodded, clearly half listening but she knew it was only because he was so focused on the task at hand.

They fell into silence for a little bit, and she was kinda glad he didn’t ask why she was there, mainly because she needed time to build up the courage to start the topic.

“Hey, JJ?” She blurted out, forcing her lips to move. Her heart started beating quite quickly. He looked up at her briefly at the acknowledgment before glancing back down, letting her know he was listening.

“Mm?” He hummed.

“Um,” she started, fiddling with her hands harder than before and trying to ignore the surprisingly annoying racing of her heart. “I noticed yesterday-“

“You noticed the toilet paper I put on John B’s shoe? You didn’t tell him, did you?” He interrupted, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. She’s always wanted an eye sparkle from him, that meant the topic was mischievous and exciting for him.

But now wasn’t the time, for she needed to get to the point before her courage wore off. “Well, no, I didn’t tell him, but-“

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I wanted it to be there when we went to get pizza, which…”

He slowly trailed off, realizing she wasn’t there when they went out.

She swallowed nervously, feeling her cheeks flush. “Yeah, whatever, anyway, I really need to talk to you about something.”

She was satisfied that she could get that sentence out, for the courage in her chest hasn’t left yet.

His face drew back, twisting with confusion but he looked okay with it. “Okay, what’s up, sugar?” He said casually, leaning back down and popping the old engine out, lifting it before placing on the ground.

Her cheeks flushed red at the nickname, but brushed it off so she could stay on task. She kept telling herself that talking to him would help, so she really wanted to get her point across.

“Um, well, I’m feeling a bit, I don’t know, like I don’t…belong.”

The word: belong. It was something she always wanted to do, something she would die just for a taste of being it. It was something she so wanted to be that she held the word close to her heart, holding onto it tightly so it wouldn’t leave her. It was slowly fighting back against her grip ever since she met the group, yet she wanted friends so badly she kept trying.

She stared at JJ to see his reaction, watching as he lifted the new engine towards the car hood. He must have felt her stare because why else would he look up, eyes looking as clueless as ever.

“Did you say something?” He said, scratching his head, closing the hood.

“What?” She pathetically whispered, tears welling up but she blinked them away. She cleared her throat. “N-no, I didn’t say anything. I was gonna say I made this for you.”

Her voice was soft and helpless, setting the bracelet on the now closed hood of the car after taking it out of her pocket. He stared at it, eyes softening slightly before looking up, meeting her glossy eyes.

“I-I hope you like it,” She said, voice thick and her lips were quivering, tears so close to bursting themselves out.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” He said, stepping around his car and reaching for her, but she snatched her wrist out of his reach.

“You weren’t listening to me!” She sputtered. “Just like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could get out because he was in shock at her outburst. Normally she is the quiet cute girl in the corner, now her eyebrows were furrowed in anger and her cheeks were red. Smoke was practically coming out of her ears.

“Sorry?” She quoted. “I have been feeling like this for weeks, and I finally had the courage to talk to someone, that someone being you of all people because I had a speck of hope that you would listen but when I do you can’t do that just this once?!”

“Feeling like what?” He said- almost demanded- his eyebrows furrowing. She threw her arms in the air in asasperation at his response, like out of the whole outburst she expressed the only thing he heard was that little part. “Does it even matter?” She almost yelled. “You had one chance to listen and you didn’t take it. If you cared you would’ve listened.”

“I do care, sugar,” he desperately assured. “I didn’t know you needed my full attention. I should’ve listened, and I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore, forget about it, JJ,” she said, wiping her cheeks before turning away.

“No no talk to me, princess. I’m listening I promise,” he whispered, dirty fingers curved around her wrist.

She turned to him, desire for someone to listen to her was strong.

Once he knew she wasn’t gonna leave, he let go of her wrist, the warmth from his touch leaving her. She fiddled with her fingers, looking into his eyes that seemed so sincere.“You promise?”

He nodded almost instantly. “I promise.”

He even held out his pinkie to her, making her laugh but seal the promise nonetheless.

The rest of the morning they sat and talked, JJ’s smile as big as ever and the threads tied around his wrist.

She laughed.

Laughed.

And she actually got to hear his jokes for once. The ones she missed, misheard, and never repeated for her.

And those sounds were as genuine as they could get, her heart singing as he gave her a real eye twinkle.

It was at that moment her heart fell, fell hard for the boy next to her.

And at their next hangout she didn’t have to sit on the chair alone like she normally does, for now she got to see on Maybank’s lap (as offered) as she laughed with the group and got to have her say.

She felt loved. Felt like she was included.

And, most important of all, she felt belonged.

-Tell me what you think? 🫶🏻

[simplyzeeka]

Ruffian

Part.1

Summary: Ryan has been living a lonely life on her farm for a decade now. With no family to seek company from, she developed a routine with just her and her animals, something that soothed her loneliness. Until her happiness came back a little earlier than expected.

Warnings: MDNI!!! Cussing, chaotic animals, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, p in v(no protection), face sitting if you squint. They just missed each other y'all 😔

A/n: So, uhmm. This was supposed to be straight fluff, nothing nasty at all. But sometimes, characters have a mind of their own.

5k+

Ryan always believed life in the countryside was much more peaceful. Although she hasn't even licked the city streets, she hears enough to have a clear and unbiased opinion about it. But that did not mean that the countryside did not have its chaos. “Daisy… Daisy! Come back here girl, where you goin’?”

And most of this chaos came from her small little farm, especially her Great Dane. If it weren't her chickens causing a ruckus, her sheep and goats were raining ditsy havoc. Her only peace came from her Friesian stallion, Ferris, always chewing on a bunch of hay in his stable away from the blasting heat.

Despite all this, Ryan loved her little farm. It was a place with many stories. Tragic and happy alike. She inherited the small plot from her grandmother who raised her into the woman she was, her parents having moved to the city since she was young as a way to send money back into the farm.

Ryan shook her head at her dog’s antics before turning back to the task before her. “Okay, Ro. We’re all done girl, you get some rest.” She spoke quietly to her cow, applying a post-dipping solution on each teat when the spotted animal did not have any more milk to give. Ryan took off her gloves and offered the cow a batch of hay, then left the stable after checking on Ro’s calf.

It was a rather long day, helping a cow give birth was the least of her expectations, luckily her grandmother had always prepared Ryan for such a situation. She carried the bucket of colostrum filled milk that would be used to feed the calf, but stopped to check on her Stallion. “What’s up big guy? Your water still good?” Ryan checked the stable for any irregularities.

Once satisfied she left the stable, securing the lash before a smooth velvet voice caught her attention. “That sissy still standin’? Thought he woulda been long dead.”

Ryan whipped her head behind her, there occupying the entrance of the shed. Worn out timbs and a pair of denim jeans that matched in condition. White wife beaters and a denim jacket over his shoulder, his signature silver chain hanging around his neck. Terrence Richmond was still as handsome as he was all those years ago.

“You lyin’ to me.” Ryan shook her head, eyes blinking slowly, there was no way he stood in front of her currently. It was too early, he wasn't supposed to be back until a few weeks. See, Ryan knew that she should stop smoking the pre-rolls that Willow always brought, they tended to leave her more paranoid than relaxed.

The smile he let out from her quiet whisper was enough to spark a flamelet to her, he really was here. Years and years of being separated and finally, he was in front of her. , “I’m right here, baby.” He dropped the bags in his hand and opened his arms.

It took a while for Ryan to react, rendered speechless just by the mere fact that he was here… with her and near her. Next thing one step turned into two, then three before she was spriniting in his direction. Ryan wasted no time locking her body around his, legs around his waist and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Terry held her even tighter, his hands gripping at her thighs so he could hold her up. A soft scent of cinnamon and peaches invaded his nose so delicately that he brushed his nose against her neck to inhale more of the sweet scent.

“I thought you was gon’ be out in a few weeks. I aint even prepare nothin’ for you, coulda held a party or somet-.”

Terry didn't allow her to finish, “Ry baby, I dont need a party. This is good, this is perfect.” Terry protested, honestly so because there was no better way than for him to celebrate his return than with his fiancé.

Ryan held his face, a small pinch between her brows as she inspected his face. “I coulda bought you somethin’ nice at least.”

Terry laughed, knowing that Ryan always wanted nothing more than to please. Her heart plummeted at the sound, she missed it… thought she'd never hear it again, but Terry had a way of always coming back to her. “God, I missed you, like a fish outta water.”

Their noses nudged as she spoke, until the distance between their lips became a little too much to bear and Terry pressed their lips together. He swallowed the sound of her content sigh, felt her relax as she leisurely responded.

The small flame in her heart spread to the rest of her body, little embers flicking off her body when his hands grabbed at her supple flesh intentionally.

Ryan grew into her womanhood, everything about her screamed ‘grown’ and Terry loved every moment of that realisation. Ten years… he hasn't seen his woman for ten years, didn't watch her grow and grow with her. But he had time to spare now, and he would be damned if he didn't spend it on Ryan.

It took being placed on a block of hay and Terry stepping between her legs that made her push him away gently. “Mmm wait baby, we can't. Ro just calved.” She explained breathlessly while playing with the charm on his chain.

“Ro? As in little Ro?” Terry asked shocked, “She getting down and busy?” Ryan rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder with a laugh. “Ro ain't so little no more. And, she been gettin’ down and busy. This her third baby.”

Terry immediately moved his body away from Ryan, running her fingers through his short curls. “Somebody got my baby pregnant?” He frowned at the declaration, no longer in the mood to get acquainted with Ryan’s body. This was big.

Ryan huffed at his Oscar winning antics. “Terry, please. She damn near eleven years old, and also a cow. Breedin’ is what they do.” She explained, not that she thought they had to, he knew what it was when he bought Ro. “Yeah, but not my Ro.”

Ryan cackled at that, he never failed to treat all the livestock on this farm like children… except her horse of course. She couldn't blame him, Terry and Ryan bought Ro off a cow breeder before he left for the military. They were only twenty years old, freshly engaged and had a dream to grow a farm together… their farm. Ro was their first cow, a big accomplishment because cows were expensive as hell.

“Okay, Soldier. Calm down.” Ryan got up from the hay and walked over to Terry. “How bout you help me carry the milk to the kitchen?” She suggested, pointing at the half full bucket of milk behind him.

Reluctantly, Terry obliged, he picked up the bucket and followed Ryan to the kitchen. She did some work to the small area, it looked different from the last time he saw it.

“You recolored?” He asked, placed the bucket on the floor before looking around. It smelled like freshly baked cookies, which didn't surprise Terry, he knew how much Ryan loved to bake.

“Mhm, got tired of the grey.” Ryan grabbed the bucket of milk and poured it in baby bottles for the calf when it woke up, she had fed it a while before it went into a deep sleep.

Terry couldn't help but to watch her, like really watch her. Her face, her hair, her skin. Everything about her. Dressed in a plain shirt, the front of it tied in a knot, showing a bit of her stomach. Flared jeans that hugged her thighs enticingly. As always, Ryan wore a low cut, stetson hat on her head, she wouldn't leave the house without one on.

She looked good, damn good and Terry found himself unable to keep composure again. A few tentative steps was all it took until he was behind her. His hands placed on her hips while his fingers dig into her belt loops as to pull her hips into his.

Ryan let out a soft laugh when she felt tickling kisses behind her ear travelling to her neck. He smelled like he always did. Honey and a hint of musk. “I'm tryna concentrate, Terrence.” Ryan began, not detering from her task, just as stubborn as Terry was on his because he didn't let up on her. “You can do this later. Come on, Ry. I miss you.”

Ryan shook her head, this was important, the baby needed their milk. “And I got you later. Gon’ make you dinner and everythin’.” She turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with the little curls on the nape of his neck.

Terry sighed and looked down at her. She was so pretty. Her cheeks softly filled out, cheekbones lifting as she smiled. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from letting out a soft grunt of frustration, how was he supposed to hold off when she looked this good.

“Alright, I'ma hold you to that.” He nodded, sending a small smack to her ass and a kiss to her plump lips. “Anything you need me to help with?”

“Can you check on Ro?” Terry nodded in agreement, pecking her lips one more time before retreating from the kitchen, “Yes ma'am.”

Time passed slowly, that when evening rolled in, Ryan was already spent from her day. She made sure that Ro and her calf were settled in for sleeping as all her other babies. As usual, her chickens gave her more of a run around, but Terry helped put them in their coop.

She had just finished with dinner, opted for a bit of a full plate as Terry's first proper meal since being back.

He was currently in the shower washing the day away while she got the table ready. She had Janet Jackson playing in the background, something she always did to decompress from a busy day of farm work.

“Terry! Come on now. The food gettin’ cold.” She called out, impatiently seated, waiting for him so they could eat.

“I'm here, I'm here.” He rushed down the stairs. His heavy steps creaked on loose floorboards. He marvelled at the effort that Ryan put into making such a vast dinner for him. Terry couldn't remember the last time he's had a proper meal straight out the pot.

“Smells good baby.” He complimented, landing a peck on her cheek before he took a seat in front of her. “Looks good too.”

Ryan smiled in appreciation, “Thank you, baby.” She did a little jiggle at the compliment, causing Terry to laugh endearingly. “Alright, let's eat. I'm hungrier than a tic on a teddy bear.”

And at that they dug in. Ryan and Terry caught up with everything they have missed together. Ten years, and Ryan still couldn't help but feel like a giddy school kid around Terry. He always had that effect on her, and something told her that he always would.

Terry ate like a man starved and Ryan used this time he was distracted to admire him. He gained muscle… a lot of muscle. While he wasn't necessarily a man of small stature, Terry came back with his clothes stretched out. She eyed his prominent veins pop out everytime he flexed his arm even the slightest.

He trimmed his beard out and kept his goatee. It was a small change, but a nice one. She remembered constantly calling him ‘patchy’ back when he was trying to fully grow it but it wouldn't grow the way he liked it.

Once dinner was done, Terry offered to wash the dishes since Ryan cooked. “You go get the bed ready, pretty. I'ma be up there in a few.”

Ryan nodded and her small feet pattered up the stairs to her bedroom. She made sure to turn the ceiling fan on, the heat making her a little irritated. “Hotter than satan’s crack.” She mumbled lowly, naive to the presence in the room.

“Wouldn't be feeling so hot if you got out those jeans.” Terry commented from behind her, arms wrapping around her torso. “You tryna get me out my clothes, Mr. Richmond?” She turned to face him, hands rested against his ripple chest.

Terry playfully shook his head, nudging his nose against hers. “Nah, I wouldn't dare, Mrs. Richmond.”

Fuck she loved that, she couldn't wait until she could become that formally. Ryan landed a kiss on his lips, missed that. Missed kissing him so much, touching him and loving him.

The kiss picked up pace. While Terry had always been an impatient man, the time they have spent apart left him with an insatiable hunger. Ryan breathed him in, cupping his lower jaw as to pull away slightly for some air. Terry chased her lips, not giving a damn about breathing with Ryan this close in his proximity.

They crashed together again, then stumbled everywhere in the room. Terry tapped her thigh twice, before he rested his hands on the underside of her thighs and picked her up with ease, and on the bed he laid Ryan gently.

Her hands fumbled with her belt buckle, not wanting to waste anymore time talking and laughing. She wanted him, in every way he came to her.

Terry took over, gently removing her hands and undid the buckle himself, except he took his time. Once the leather was gone, he unbuttoned her jeans with his teeth, sliding them down her thick thighs along with the orange lace panties that he wished he had taken the time to appreciate on her.

Ryan was breathing heavily, watching as Terry kissed on her exposed stomach. He was serenading her with his lips, silently telling her how much he missed her.

The pillows of his lips moved from her stomach, down to her pelvis. He kissed the visible scar on the soft skin, one she got when she tried shaving without any guidance for the first time.

By the feel of his lips moving lower, Ryan was too anticipated to let him do what he wanted. She wasn't in the mood for foreplay.

“Terry, I don't need that now.” She whispered as she rested on her elbows, looking down at the earthiness of his eyes. Fuck him for being so beautiful.

“Hm? What you need then?”

Ryan shook her head, she knew what he wanted. He wanted her to explicitly tell him what she wanted. But how could she so boldly tell him that she wanted to be stuffed with his dick.

“Closed mouths don't get fed, baby. Gotta let me know what you want so I can give it to you.”

“I can't, T.” She reasoned softly.

“Yes you can, I know you can. You know why? Cause you're my baby, and my baby listens.”

Ryan sighed heavily, unable to understand why he couldn't just fuck her and call it a night. Now he was bringing all this Military obedience bullshit to her at the worst of times. It frustrated her.

“Terry, come on. Please.”

He noted her frustration, sighed in disappointment before he stood to his full height. “Okay baby.”

“We'll fix that some other time.”

And she knew that was a promise he was going to keep. Ryan smiled in relief, gasped suddenly when he kissed her feverishly.

This kiss was sloppy. They nipped at each other's lips before Ryan granted him access into her mouth.

And inevitably, allowed entrance into her leaking folds as well.

It wasn't just his muscles that grew, his dick seemed to have gained an extra pound as well because it laid heavy inside her, stretching her out that she knew nobody would ever be able to fill his space, not that she wanted anybody to.

Ryan struggled to take it, regardless of the face that he was going slow, she still couldn't take it. The mushroom of her tip brushed carelessly at the soft tissue of her spot at every thrust, it had her recoiling backwards everytime he pulled out.

“Don't piss me off, Ryan. You wanted this right?” Terry gritted out, his grip on her hips tight as she rolled his hips up into her yet again. Slow, deep strokes. Just as she liked. “Hm? Answer me, baby.”

Her pussy was gold. Always has been, always will be. Ryan had no right to grip at him like that and expect him to let her run. You couldn't offer somebody candy and expect them not to indulge, it was inhumane, at least to Terry it was.

He had her holding her legs, presenting herself to him so she could watch where their hips met without obstruction. Ryan's essence pooled around her thighs and Terry's, leaked out everytime he pulled out the piping heat of her pussy to where his tip is all that stayed, before he dove his heavy dick back inside her so he could kiss her insides.

“Fuck. Y-yes I did.” Ryan managed to respond, her brows drawn together, her eyes too stuck on where they connected. Watched as rings of cream coasted the thick base of his dick. “Fat fuckin’ dick. Oh my… yess.” She whispered softly, throwing her head back, her grip on her thighs tightened ever so oftenly.

“And you love me, hmm baby? You love me don't you?”

“Yes yes yes yesss. Love you so much. Oh my God.” Ryan looked up at him with teary eyes.

“So don't run from what you love baby, don't run from me. Take this dick, there you go, girl. Pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

He fucked like a grown man now too. Before he left, Terry and Ryan had good sex, she wouldn't dispute that. But it never felt like this, he definitely missed her, and he sure as fuck was showing her just how much.

“So deep, so fuckin’ deep, T. Just like that.”

“Yeah? In your stomach baby?” Terry watched where his dick poked out on her stomach. But Ryan shook her head dumbly, he felt way beyond that. “In my- shittt. In my heart.”

“In your heart?” Terry laughed, the sound causing Ryan's walls to pulsate around as they clenched. That drew a hiss out of Terry before he continued. “Dick got you talkin’ dumb baby.”

Ryan moaned at that. Fuck she liked that, she liked that a lot. It made her ooze more of her juices, down her ass and onto the bed.

“Ease up mama, let me in.” Terry groaned, struggling to dig her out the way he wanted to because she gripped at his dick so tight, sucking him in with every thrust. “Open up, Ryan. Let Daddy in.”

“Shittt.” She creamed at that. Fuck he was so sexy, so so sexy she wanted to give him children. Ryan tried to open up more, but the heaviness of his dick made it hard. He was impaling her, and he expected her to make that easier for him?

Terry wrapped her legs around his waist, leaned lower, his elbows near either side of her head. Their foreheads touched and Ryan wasted no time touching on him.

He was angled so much deeper like this, but that wasn't what had her heart pumping. The way he looked at her, while slowly pumping her full of dick had her reciting her love for him all over again.

“I love you, love you so fuckin’ much, T.” She spoke with her eyes stuck on his, hands caressing his jaw as her mouth fell open at his pace. “Fuck yesss.”

“Fuck this pussy magic. Wanna die in it, wetting me up so good. Pretty baby, you so pretty Ry. You hear me? So so pretty. Love you, till death yeah?.”

And she believed him, believed that he would die for her because Terry has shown her his love, showed her that she deserves that kind of love, and that kind of love deserved her.

“Oh my God… I'ma cum. I'm cummin’ baby.”

“I know, I feel it baby, I feel you. Let it go, cum on your dick mama.” He coached her, leaving kisses on her face as he maintained the pace of his hips. He whispered profanities and sweet everything's in her ear as Ryan squeezed around him.

“Fuck fuck fuhhh. Oh my God, I love you.” She gasped when she gushed on him heavily. Her cum leaked out of her, damn near pushing Terry out of her walls. He fucked her through it, kissing her slightly sweaty skin.

He pulled away from her, rubbing her thighs lovingly and watched as she caught her breath. “Turn over, I ain't done.” Terry sent a small smack to the side of her thighs and laughed when he heard her whine but still as obedient as ever, oblige to his command.

On her elbows and knees, Ryan spread her legs slightly, earning an appreciative hum from Terry as he gripped at her plump ass.

“Look at you.” He said, eyeing the slick that covered her heat before blowing on her swollen bud. “She missed me, hmm?” he asked no one in particular, yet still, Ryan responded with a silent “Yes, Sir.” that had Terry grabbing the base of his dick. The sound of her accent didn't make this any better.

He sent a long stripe from her clit to her pulsating hole. Sucked her bud into his mouth and gave her pussy lazy kisses that left Ryan leaking again.

Ryan gripped at the sheets in front of her. This man was insatiable, and she knew that there was a long night ahead of her, if not a few days as well. “Shit shit shit, like that. Just like that.”

He hummed against her, the vibrations creating pressure waves inside of her, amplifying the pleasure that was being sent to her brain. “Taste so fucking good, look at this shit.” Terry said and spread her lips apart, before diving back in, slipping his pink muscle inside her and exploring more of her taste.

Ryan's thighs shook, almost causing her to fall out of the position. “Keep that fucking arch, Ryan. You hear me?”

She whined in response, pinched her eyes together from the slight overstimulation.

Terry was a noisy eater, slurping and slipping. Didn't even mind moaning at her taste, occasionally praising how much she got wet, how pretty her pussy looked, how much he loved her.

Once he was done with his oral loving, he teased Ryan's entrance with his tip. Slapped it against her clit a few times before sliding it between her folds.

Once he slowly plunged into her slowly, he threw his head back and whimpered shamelessly. The sound made Ryan smile to herself, loving how he expressed himself freely in that sense.

“Fuckk, not sure if I can hold off mama.” She muttered, pulled out then plunged back in again, the sight made his dick twitch. “Can't believe I went ten years without this pussy. Never again, okay baby?”

Terry began the relentless thrusting. Pulled her hips back against him, watching the recoil of her ass in appreciation. “Never again. Gon’ die in this shit if I have to.” His bottom lip sank between his teeth, watching himself enter her with more and more cream decorating his veiny dick.

Ryan was at a loss of words, couldn't speak as tears filled her eyes. Dick couldn't be this good. She understood now why women often fought for their men, there was no way she's ever letting up on this. Terry would get fucked up for even doing something as stupid as think of getting with another woman.

Naturally, she threw her ass back on him, because she missed him. And he deserved this, deserved so much more. “Fuckkk that's it, show out mama. Take your dick, just like that. Taking me so good, it's yours ain't it?”

The sound of skin clapping and squelching could be heard in the room, accompanied by the sound of their persistent moans and whimpers. Their declarations of love and praises.

“So big, stretchin’ me so much. Fuck, let up Terry.” Ryan cried out, reached behind her to push against his stomach. Terry ignored that, instead, he just slid back in deeper. He angled his hips that made him kiss her cervix with so much pressure. Ryan opened her mouth agape and her arm fell forward to grip the sheets.

"Why you fucking me like this?" She moaned out elongated, using the leverage of her elbows to pull her hips away from him. "Cause you deserve it. You deserve this nut, baby." Terry gritted out, so concentrated at the work he was putting between her thighs, watching the mesmerising waves on her ass every time their skin slapped. "Working so hard every damn day, takin' care of the house, the farm. You don't gotta worry bout that no more though, cause Daddy's home. You hear me, Ry?" Terry angled his hip in a way that dug her out in a way that would have had her promising babies, but she held off.

All she could do was nod, grip the sheets harder. Her moans leaking out her mouth like the faucet between her legs. "Mh mh, say it. Say Daddy's home baby."

“Daddy’s home… fuckkk daddy's home. I'm bout to cum.”

“Right behind you baby, cum with me baby. Hold it just a little longer.”

Ryan tried, she tried so hard to listen but she couldn't hold it. She began squirming on him, yelling chants of ‘I love you's’.

The feel of her clenching sent Terry over the edge. “Fuck fuck fuckk, I'm cummin’.” He grunted before he spilled inside her then fucked his nut inside her.

The two gathered their breath, catching a sense of time and space while coming down their highs.

Once Terry pulled out, Ryan believed she was done. “Sit up baby.” Terry called out gently, rubbing her back gently as she moved around the bed.

Once she was sat on the bed, she was face to face-to-face with his slick covered dick. He definitely was bigger, and the sight of his cum mixed with hers had her mouth watering.

Ryan looked up at Terry, the corners of his lips lifted slightly. “You okay?” He asked for assurance to continue first, the ball was in her hands.

Ryan eagerly nodded. She wanted this, needed this even. “Clean me up then.” he ordered.

Hesitantly, she wrapped her hands around him. Even with both hands, his head still peaked out. The weight of it felt tantalising.

“Don't play around with that shit, Ry. Eat it up.”

Immediately, her lips wrap around his head, sucking gently. Her eyes met his when her tongue poked out to lick from her shaft to the base. They tasted good together, like a match made perfectly in heaven.

Ryan slid her mouth around him, sliding her lips lower as she inhaled. Her hands wrapped around what she couldn't fit into her mouth. He felt heavier on her tongue. “That's right, nice and slow. Ain't goin’ nowhere mama.” Terry watched with his lip caught between his teeth.

His brows furrowed as she took him with skill, just as he taught her all those years ago. Ryan began bobbing her head, her eyes already getting teary at the way he stretched her mouth open.

“Just like that. My baby getting me right. Take what you need.”

Ryan picked up the pace, slurping at his dick like it was her last meal, slowly easing him deeper in her throat, her nose slowly inching towards his pelvis.

“Look at you. Nasty ass, you love this dick Ryan?”

She nodded her head, hummed in response as well knowing that would drive him crazy. By now, she was damn near deep throating him, his tip kissing the back of her throat.

Ryan clenches her throat around his head which causes Terry to buck his hips forward. Ryan pulled away to get some air, breathing loudly as her hand twisted around the weight of the muscle.

She tapped the head against her tongue before sliding it back into her mouth.

Terry laughed, he wanted to be gentle, wanted to let her do her thing. But now she had him worked up, teasing him as if she wanted him to show out.

Gripping the back of her head, Terry pulled her away from him, before guiding her back towards his head.

“Breathe, baby. Breath.” He instructed, watching as Ryan nodded in understanding.

Terry slid into her mouth, watching her jaw relax as she breathed, right until her nose touched his pelvis. He heard her gag and relieved her by pulling out.

Tears adorned her eyelids, falling when she blinked up at him with spit running down her chin. “So good baby, you think you can do it?”

Ryan nodded her head. “Yeah, I can, promise. Please.”

“Mhm, ‘course you can.” He said before siding back into her mouth. “Love being slutted out, don't you mama. Mi get yuh, baby.”

The patois, fuck the patois. It wasn't often that she heard it before he left, only ever when he was angry. Then he spoke in patois, but during sex? Ryan has never heard it, and she's not sure she wanted him to stop.

Ryan hummed around his dick. He used her mouth for good measure. “You so pretty like this.” He praised as his thrusted into her mouth gently, loving the sight of her lips wrapping around him.

Ryan did a few tricks with her tongue, drawing him closer to his orgasm. “Fuckkk Ry. Fuck baby, I'm bout to nut. You gon catch it?” He asked breathlessly, brows pinched together as his grip on her head tightened.

Ryan moaned around him, her hands rested on top of his thighs. The room filled with sounds of gagging and Terry's moans.

It didn't fall unnoticed to Terry the hands that rested between Ryan's legs. She was playing with herself, smearing his nut between her fold as she rubbed leisure circles on her sensitive bud. Perhaps she liked Terry in her mouth more than she thought she did.

Terry laughed at that sight, pulled out of her mouth and heard as she gasped to take a breath. Ryan chased the head of his dick, clearly not happy with how soon it ended, he didn't even cum yet. Despite all the spit running down her chest and the tears that filled her eyes, she still wanted more.

Terry teased her, pulling her head back everytime she got close to having him back in her mouth. “Terry, come on.” She whispered desperately.

Hr knew she could get down and grimey if she wanted to. Terry knew that Ryan could fuck him to sleep if she wanted to, if only she could stop being so shy. They'd get there though, he'll make sure of it.

“It's right there baby, go head and take it.” He urged, tilting her head to see her face better. “Or you want me to give it to you?” Ryan immediately nodded her head, she liked him being rough, taking what he needed because he knew she would do nothing but give.

“You lazy as fuck Ryan. Daddy gon get you right, though.”

His hand let go of her hair, wrapped his hand around her neck instead, squeezed just enough to slow down the blood from going to her head.

Ryan felt a little lightheaded when Terry pulled her up to where she stood on her feet. Her hand wrap around his wrist, her eyes crossed eve so slightly when he squeezed tighter. “Fuck.” She whispered.

Terry pecked her lips. Once, twice, and a few more times. “You okay, baby?” He asked, releasing some tension on her neck but kept his hand there.

“Mhm, I'm fine. Thank you.” She smiled tiredly.

“Good. Cause I aint finished. Come sit on my face.”

“Terry. I'm tired, I got a lot of work tomorrow.” She shook her head incredulously. There was no way he could possible have that much energy. What water are they giving these men in the military?

“And ain't I say Daddy's home?. I'ma help with all that.” He tapped her thigh.

Ryan sighed and climbed over him on the bed, hovered over his face slightly, clearly worried about suffocating him.

“Don't play with me, Ryan. I said sit.”

Ryan rolled her eyes, happy he couldn't see her. “Sir, yes Sir.” She mumbled before lowering on his perfectly sculpted face, his eyes gazing up at her as he munched away between her thighs.

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[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Do you have any tips on how characters react after a heat in the moment first kiss?

Hey there! I'm so glad you reached out about depicting characters' reactions after an unexpected first kiss. This is such an important and tricky moment to get right in any romance story.

I don't talk enough about romance, so I've very excited to write a blog post about this, especially since in almost all my writing projects I utilize a romantic subplot.

Understanding the Emotional Impact

First things first, it's important to recognize just how powerful and transformative that first kiss can be for your characters, even if it's spur-of-the-moment or unplanned. A kiss like that has the power to shift the entire dynamic between two people, unlocking a whole new level of vulnerability, intimacy, and emotional intensity.

Think about it - your characters have probably been building up tension, attraction, and unspoken feelings for each other over time. And then, in one electric moment, all of that comes bubbling to the surface. Suddenly, everything changes. The world seems to slow down, and all that matters is the connection between them.

Whether your characters have been pining for this moment or it takes them completely by surprise, that first touch of their lips is guaranteed to trigger a whirlwind of emotions. Excitement, nervousness, relief, uncertainty - it's a veritable emotional rollercoaster.

And of course, the way each character responds will depend on their individual personality, past experiences, and overall mindset. A shy, cautious character might be utterly flustered and overwhelmed. A bold, adventurous one might be thrilled and eager for more. And someone with trust issues or a painful romantic history might panic and pull away.

The key is to really get inside your characters' heads and hearts, understanding how this monumental moment resonates with them on a deep level. That's what's going to make their reactions feel raw, authentic, and achingly real for your readers.

Crafting Nuanced Reactions

(The examples I use are very cliche, and personally not my writing style, but they're simply for your reference to get a rough idea of what I'm trying to indicate)

Okay, now that we've established the emotional gravity of that first kiss, let's dive into some specific techniques for portraying your characters' reactions. Here are a few ideas:

Focus on the sensations. When a character experiences something as intense as an unexpected first kiss, their physical responses are going to be heightened. Capture the racing heartbeat, the trembling hands, the tingling skin - all those little visceral details that make the moment palpable.

For example (Very cliche but, just for reference): "Her lips were soft and warm against his, sending a shiver down his spine. His heart pounded in his ears, fingers trembling as he cupped her cheek, hardly daring to breathe."

Showcase their inner turmoil. Don't just describe what's happening externally - give us a window into your character's jumbled thoughts and feelings. Are they overjoyed? Confused? Terrified? Let us see the full emotional spectrum unfolding.

Like this: "Panic rose in her chest as his lips met hers, every nerve ending firing at once. What was happening? This couldn't be real - it had to be some kind of dream. But the way her skin tingled, the way her stomach fluttered, told her this was very much reality."

Use body language and subtle reactions. Characters don't always have to respond with grand, over-the-top gestures. Sometimes the most meaningful reactions come through in the little, unconscious movements - a shy glance, a gentle touch, a subtle smile.

For instance: "For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, frozen. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, eyes sparkling with a mix of wonder and delight."

Lean into the awkwardness. First kisses, even magical ones, can also be a little clumsy and uncertain. Embrace that sense of fumbling vulnerability - it makes the moment all the more endearing and relatable.

Something like: "Their noses bumped as they leaned in, hearts racing. He hesitated, suddenly unsure, but then her hand slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Their lips met in a tentative, exploratory kiss that sent tingles down his spine."

Contrast reactions between characters. If you have two characters with very different personalities or perspectives, lean into that contrast to create compelling dramatic tension. How might a guarded, cynical character react compared to an optimistic romantic?

For example: "She froze, eyes wide with shock. This was the last thing she'd expected - to be kissed by her best friend, of all people. Panic fluttered in her chest, desperate to pull away. But then she saw the vulnerability in his gaze, the slight tremble in his hands, and her heart melted. Slowly, hesitantly, she kissed him back."

The key is to get creative, have fun, and be able to let your characters' unique voices and perspectives shine through.

Additional Resources

And of course, don't hesitate to reach out if you have any other questions! I'm always happy to chat more about anything writing related.

--Rin T.

[dear-ao3]

riddle me this. what does a 50 million dollar drive, a giant helmet made from recycled materials, the british media, safety infringements, an aborted start, six red flags, rain, team orders, the first black flag in seventeen years, the dutch national anthem and ayrton sennas 1990 mclaren all have in common? 

stumped? well i’ll tell you. 

it’s the 2024 brazilian grand prix.

the last race of our second to last triple header. a sprint weekend. and chaos in its highest form.

today is november 23, 2024 and make sure you get a snack because this is a long one. 

we started the week off pretty strong with lance stroll getting broken up with on his birthday.

well, maybe. 

his girlfriend deleted all of the pictures of him off of her instagram account on his birthday, which really doesnt look good. and this really set the tone for the week of bonkers shit that was now upon us. 

things like lando being asked about the dreaded Last Week With Max incident. in an interview he was asked (told?)

“Are you aware that people watching at home don't want to see the fight between you and Max for the world championship ending in radio messages, tedious steward inquires, time penalties? They want to see you racing nicely and cleanly.” 

lando was in agreement clearly because he said 

“And so do I! And I do.”

max on the other hand still remained max about the situation 

he was asked  during the press conference: “a lot has been said since mexico. are you going to change the way you go racing this weekend?” 

and max said, like a badass:

“yeah, ive heard that before in my career. its my tenth year in formula 1. i think i know what im doing!”

christian horner brought receipts, as in actual data sheets, to his mexico gp media session about how max’s penalties from mexico were unjust. i don't think that anyone really listened to any of this though because the penalties were never unturned. 

one penalty that they did figure out what charles’s swear penalty from the press conference in mexico. the fia finally made a decision. charles will be pleased to know that he does Not have to do community service with max. but honestly (and this is now my own opinion here) why give one guy community service and not give it to the other? max apologized for his language Before he said “the car is fucked.” charles apologized After once he realized what was going to happen. not really sure here why the fia is out to get max but whatever i don't make the rules. also. the fines and the community service seem to Only be confined to the press conferences because as we know. people have cursed in the cool down room (lando in singapore notably) and also many have over the radio (checo, franco, charles, george, etc etc) and they have not been told anything. hm. in any case though, we have more important things to focus on than weird swear bans. 

like charles leclerc nation going insane when this video was posted, which is a new contender for best weird yet still sexy video of charles on the ferrari page

liam lawson told everyone that he is “not here to make friends, im here to win.” following his Incidents with fernando and also checo at the us and mexican gps. which is interesting for a few reasons. 1. hes in a vcarb and statistically they have not won a single thing all season because they are vcarb and 2. he was soon after seeing being besties with yuki.

oh and also. max reacted to (was asked about?) the whole liam flipping checo off while they were driving in mexico thing, and max said “Checo, I think if I did that to you, I would be quite afraid leaving the country.”

and there were also the usual “this is checo’s last race weekend” general threats. weve seen these before. so theyre not worth wasting typing space on because i cant imagine that theyre going to fire him this late into the season. and why would we talk about the goofy red bull rumors that always are swirling everywhere when we could instead talk about lewis hamilton and franco colapinto.

lewis hamilton praised the crap out of franco colapinto. at the press conference on media day. as we all know franco is a lewis fangirl. so. he honestly might still be in a state of shock.  

“It's always great to see young people, young talented individuals get the opportunity to come through and shine, and he did that in the first race. We had a great little battle and it was super safe. It was hard but fair. [...] He's saying it's not for him to decide, but my advice would be - I would be pushing on my side to make sure I'm doing absolutely everything. At the end of the day, he's got to continue to focus on doing his job every weekend, as he is, and hopefully, he's got good people behind him who are doing the right job to make sure that he's here racing next year.”

and low and behold a few hours later franco did make a fangirl post about it.

also. brazil is Not franco’s home race, but they are now officially in south america, so it was like a home race adjacent for him (hes from argentina) and the crowds were definitely in agreement. we will get back to that later. 

there was a fan at the race who saw him in the paddock and yelled at him “FRANCO. CAN YOU SIGN MY SHIRT? IT’S A KNOCKOFF ONE. FRANCOOOOO” and he lost his shit over that. because remember a few weekends ago he told everyone to buy williams knockoff merch cause it was just as good and not as much money?

we also had some helmets. valtteris had coffee on it because its something that brazil is known for.

oscars had funny little androids on it that were all different hims (he also said he only recently learned that it was polite cat and not sleepy cat)

esteban had some brazil themed stuff

lewis had a senna/brazil tribute helmet

lewis was also going to get to drive ayrton senna’s 1990 mclaren after qualifying on saturday.

oh and of course we had stake do a funny little meme thing on their twitter because theyre quite known for their funny little meme things.

is this a terrible glimpse at media day? yeah absolutely but u know what i have 7 pages of notes front and back from the races themselves so deal with it i suppose. unlike what some of you may think, i 1. do not want to be writing this post forever and 2. also have other things i need to do.

one person was not at media day though and it was fernando alonso and it was because he was in the hospital im pretty sure somewhere in spain for what im also pretty sure was intestinal issues. he had also been out last week for media day due to sickness, but he was back for the race. between this and lace’s probable breakup it was shaping up to be a banner weekend for aston martin, and it was only going to get worse!

someone who definitely didn't miss media day though was sebastian vettel. if you don't know who sebastian vettel is, he was a four time world champion, menace, shit stirrer and boy toy twink esque guy who is now mostly unreachable and is the epitome of “hey i cant do nothing to nobody no more” and comes out of hiding maybe twice a year to subject the grid to a new arts and crafts project. but do not be fooled. this is the same guy who was asked, after winning his first race, if it was the best moment of his life and he said, and i quote “you obviously weren’t there when i lost my virginity.” anyway, this time his arts and crafts project was a giant helmet made from recycled materials paying tribute to ayrton senna. and yes, he made the whole grid get in the helmet. his whimsey is still off the charts.

he was also wearing really terrible shorts. as in they were long, over the knee khaki shorts. some things never change. 

he also tried to make a bet with sky germany about max winning the championship. sky germany refused.

ok im not even going to Pretend to know what happened during the practice session. max got a 5 place grid penalty for sundays race because he took a new engine.  i think george’s car briefly broke? idk. he did get it fixed tho and ended the session in p2, behind lando who was p1. and then we had a special guest in p3.

who was it? well i will give you a clue. it was NOT kevin magnussen!!! why? because he wasn’t feeling well.

so, everyones favorite (team dubbed) “super sub” jumped back in the cockpit once again. 

you guessed it, it was ollie bearman!!! originally i think he was supposed to just be in for practice (and yes he did get p3 in practice). but since its a sprint weekend (yeah, i forgot that too) that means theres only one practice session and then sprint qualifying later that day. and so. the way formula racing works. is that whatever driver drives the car for qualifying also needs to drive the car for the race. they cant get replaced if the car has already qualified. 

ollie by the way had never driven in brazil before. he said that he did it once in a video game. and now he was about to do it irl in a real car. he also got a phone call at 6:45am saying heyyyyy buddyyyy you wanna jump in the car this weekend? we happen to have an opening! and well that's not the exact quote but that is what happened.  

and then haas announced that kevin was not going to be racing that weekend due to sickness. ollie responded in a definitely very normal way which was “of course condolences…i mean, give my best to kevin.” and then he was officially In The Car for the weekend. what could do wrong???  

well lets just say that a Lot happened:

starting with lovely and wonderful Sprint Qualifying. yes that’s right. this is a sprint weekend. why does the fia do this to us guys. 

two things were important to note. 

there was a slight threat of rain

2. the track had been resurfaced and it was bumpy, which is not great when you're driving over 200kph. it really can affect your vision and also your back

lewis had trouble with the car a few years ago when it was porpoising and he was also not doing great at this race. but merc said that he was “all good.” he was not the only driver complaining about the bouncing though. it was extreme and it was dangerous and we will hear more about it later. 

i think that franco took a nap at some point. at least its in my notes so it must have happened. and i think that it was also in the car. unfortunately i don't have a photo. like many other things on this post you will just have to trust me.

aston martin had decided that their car sucked to massive degrees and rolled back their upgrades all the way to suzuka. u know, just to see if they could figure out what the fuck was wrong with their car. Unfortunately though they could not because both of their drivers got out during sq1. 

one team was pleased with what was happening and that was mclaren. they had a new rear wing that was brazil specific and also apparently legal unlike the last one and they were Flying. in sq2 lando took the fastest time with a 1.09.0. on medium tires. last years fastest time was 1.10 on soft tires, so in the words of the commentators, “norris is on another planet!” this was good for them because they hadnt actually been sure they were going to be able to race. theor freight for their car (and some other teams cars) had all been delayed cause they were shipped in wooden boxes and you cant ship things in wooden boxes to brazil because they need to protect the rain forest.

the commentators, mostly karun, also lamented about the swear bans, which they rightfully thought were stupid as hell. he brought up a good point though which was “are you going to have translators for every language? how are you going to monitor it?” because very few of them speak english as their first language and most speak more than 1 language so it is possible they could just curse in Not English

but we don't have time for that right now. not when ollie bearman had just knocked checo out of sprint qualifying. that’s right, ollie went just slightly faster, pushing checo from p10 down to p12. 

liam and checo also almost crashed. which wasn't a surprise but it was still funny.

also surprising was that oscar pulled out a pole lap at the very end of sq3, a 1:08.899, only a few thousandths faster than lando. 

“where did that come from?” karun asked. “was he saving something in his pocket away from his teammate? that is a very fernando alonso trick”

regardless of what it was, he was still on pole. for the second time during a sprint. 

“very very happy,” oscar said in his interview. “try and win obviously…starting from the best seat in the house, make sure it stays that way.” which is an important surprise tool that you should all remember for later. later being the sprint race. 

they all lined up

oscar, lando, charles, max, carlos, george, pierre, liam, alex, ollie, lewis, nico, checo, franco, valtteri, fernando, esteban, yuki, lance and guanyu. 

and before we get into the sprint, lets get a little reminder on the championship standings.

1 Max Verstappen 362

2 Lando Norris 315

3 Charles Leclerc 291

4 Oscar Piastri 251

5 Carlos Sainz 240

6 Lewis Hamilton 189

7 George Russell 177

8 Sergio Perez 150

9 Fernando Alonso 62

10 Nico Hulkenberg 31

11 Lance Stroll 24

12 Yuki Tsunoda 22

13 Kevin Magnussen 14

14 Alexander Albon 12

15 Daniel Ricciardo 12

16 Pierre Gasly 9

17 Oliver Bearman 7

18 Franco Colapinto 5

19 Esteban Ocon 5

20 Liam Lawson 2

21 Zhou Guanyu 0

22 Logan Sargeant 0

23 Valtteri Bottas 0

so max, lando and i believe also charles and maybe oscar?? were still in contention for the championship title. and as a reminder. oscar was starting on pole, with lando, charles and max all behind. lando was able to knock some points off of max in mexico with the time penalties that he racked up and was really hoping to continue to do that in brazil. so max needed to get around charles at the start asap so he could start duking it out with the mclarens.

and speaking of mclaren, there was some good speculation that we might get faced once again with the “papaya rules” aka mclaren team orders. as in, oscar might have to let lando past.

and so. lets see what happened on lap 1. 

well. max did not pass charles. lewis dropped several places, ollie dropped several places, and the two mclarens started to pull away from the rest of the pack, especially oscar who managed to get half a second ahead of lando. 

so we had a slightly new running order:

oscar, lando, charles, max, carlos, george, pierre, liam, nico, ollie, alex, checo, franco, lewis, esteban, valtteri, yuki, fernando, lance and guanyu

and then max and charles started battling on lap 3. by lap 4 charles had taken the fastest lap. and by lap 6 he had closed the gap to lando and was in an epic drs train because lando had also closed the gap to oscar.

george had also started struggling, probably because he was in a mercedes, and was trying to get passed by pierre gasly, in a alpine. 

lando meanwhile, was still up in p2 and not entirely pleased. 

“yeah, im not sure what were doing here i thought we talked about this” he said over his radio right before he locked up and fell out of oscars drs and into charles and then also max’s drs. he was probably referring to, why the hell hadn’t mclaren done their team orders business yet?

well, his race engineer, will jacobs, had absolutely no information to offer for him, he instead said. “understood keep doing what you’re doing.” 

“yeah whatever,” lando said, unimpressed. 

there was some announcer speculation that oscar might give it up to him on the last lap, on the last corner, similar to what lando did to oscar way back in hungary. hungary? idk. its been a long season. and its still even longer.

anyway. checo had been stuck down behind nico hulkenberg in 11th for a very solid nine laps, unable to pass him. he finally managed it on lap 9. his reward? another haas to pass! ollie bearman! he managed that a few laps later and was met with quite possibly his biggest foe: liam lawson. who, just to add even more insult to injury, was in the last points position of the race.

mclaren meanwhile had decided to do some team orders, but not the ones that lando wanted. they told oscar to drop back to give lando some drs, to rescue him from the charles and max inferno that was chasing him. and oscar did. the top 4 though were still separated only by 4 seconds. 

and charles, he understood the assignment. he was racing absolute balls to the wall, elbows all the way out. doing anything and everything to keep max behind him. 

max was though, unimpressed. 

“ah come on charles man, so many mistakes,” he said over the radio. 

charles was told about this post sprint, and he had a funny little reaction. unfortunately i could only find that reaction in gif format.

in any case, i believe this was a clip from sky sports, possibly probably alex jaques who said after that radio "that is max verstappen urging a rival that he's had since his childhood to stay with the McLaren because he wants the ferrari to stay there. but that error has created now two battles instead of a four car battle for the lead."

to make it worse for max, lando could have gotten ahead of oscar here, but alas there were no team orders. so he could not. and also he was still slightly too close to charles and max to not be under threat from them. still, oscar was told to floor it to open the gap between lando and charles, for the potential swap. 

and there was nothing that charles could do about it cause he had absolutely no battery power. 

will jacobs finally decided to mention the team orders threats on lap 17. “we are happy to hold these positions until the last lap.” 

to which lando said “yeah i will overtake.” 

and so it seemed that the commentators were correct. there was a prophesied last lap swap coming from mclaren. 

in case you're tired of this mess, checo was still battling for 8th place with liam. he managed to get it very briefly. and then he lost it because he locked up. 

oscar went fastest on lap 18. and then max also passed charles. 

so it was game fucking on at the front of the grid. and everyone, including gp, max’s race engineer, knew it. because he told max on lap 19 “cmon mate, lets chase em down.” 

mclaren responded as anyone would. by telling oscar “verstappen we believe is faster than leclerc” on lap 24. which is like. fork found in kitchen. max is the king of putting that red bull in places that it should never be allowed to go and that is the front of the grid. 

speaking of red bulls, checo finally managed to pass liam lawson for 8th. and he did it cleanly without locking up this time. and liam didn't even flip him off.

and mercedes, to no ones surprise, had no race pace. 

then! interestingly! there was a yellow flag! but the cameras didn't quite cut fast enough so we didn't really see what happened. turned out that nico hulkenberg had pulled off with an exhaust issue. he was technically off the track, but it was not in an overtaking spot (can overtake during yellow flags) and he seemed to still be trying to maneuver the car further away from the track, so the announcers said that this would not hurt the overtaking battle that was looming between the mclarens and max. the cameras then jumped back to that, kind of ignoring nico. 

they had still not swapped, and max was gaining. 

then the cameras cut Back to nico hulkenberg. and he was now out of the car. standing on the grass near some barriers. and this picture doesnt really do it justice but he is about 15 feet from a live race track

(there was still a yellow flag in that specific sector but he was OUT OF THE CAR next to a FORMULA 1 TRACK with NO SAFETY CAR) 

there was now though a Threat of a safety car. gee i wonder why. his car was stopped not too far from the track and he was standing on the track, it was a massive disaster waiting to happen. 

and so, mclaren gave the team order to swap positions. 

lando and oscar did. 

and immediately.

and i MEAN IMMEDIATELY they called a virtual safety car. 

oscar had dropped back into the clutches of max verstappen and max had just revved up to pass him when suddenly! no no! safety car!

which was interesting.

but we will get back to that in a minute.

now, under a virtual safety car, cars need to keep the gap between them, but the track can go green at any moment and without any warning. 

and max was on top of that. “pay attention to this!” he said over radio “because if hes (oscar) on purpose driving slow (to give lando a bigger gap) report it!” 

oscar though seemingly remained on his best behavior. 

and on the last lap the virtual safety car was announced to be ending. 

max was getting antsy behind the two mclarens and pulled up next to oscar in preparation for the track going green, but it went green a second too late and oscar was able to pull away and make a beeline all the way to the checkered flag while still keeping max behind. 

lando came in first, followed by oscar, max, charles, carlos, george, pierre, checo, liam, alex. lewis, franco, esteban, ollie, yuki, guanyu, and lance and nico DNFd. 

oscar was clearly very disappointed about the result (remember he said after sprint qualifying that he wanted to hold onto his p1). and karun wondered aloud if “mark webber will negotiate a bonus for oscar with that, he should.” cause remember, mark webber was the infamous number 2 red bull teammate to sebastian vettel who was forced to pretty much give up anything and everything for him. and, need i remind you, this weekend seb was running willy nilly around the paddock getting drivers to get in his giant recycled helmet. all very distressing things for one mark webber. 

oscar also said that it was “a bit tricky….bit bumpy….learned a lot for the race tomorrow.” 

lando said that “we work well as a team together….i thanked oscar….he deserved it but you do what you have to do.” 

later, in the press conference, an interviewer congratulated oscar on his win. oscar, confused, said “i don't know what i won but thank you” 

max said that he “had to wait for some mistakes and luckily they came” in regards to overtaking charles. “it took a bit too long with charles…but whenever hes on the drs, hes very hard to attack!”

charles said in a later interview about max “i think max was a lot more on the reserve at the beginning then started pushing at the end. he had more pace, he did a better job with tire management”

lets remember that these two are Not Teammates. 

max though was brought to the stewards though for a vsc infringement (when he pulled next to oscar) because that is Not Allowed. and he ended up with a time penalty that demoted him to fourth. so charles ended up finishing third. and he got a penalty point on his super license.

but what about that safety car call? 

well i am so glad that you asked. 

the post race show opened with one will buxton talking to one andrea stella, the mclaren team principal. and here was what he had to say about the mclaren 1-2:

“very good news, a mclaren 1-2… [we had a ] clear conversation with both drivers [before the race]” here he then called them both number 1 drivers again (which everyone thought we were past) “[it was] very risky swapping even with 1.5 seconds [to max], we were waiting for a few more seconds to materialize, but it never did” 

will buxton, ever the shit stirrer and also as we know, probably the number 1 person pissed at mclarens team strategy this year, then asked why lando was so upset over the radio. 

andrea was having none of it. “well i already answered the question didn't i? when you're a number 1 driver you get nervous when you are behind…we needed to do a very good job to stay ahead of him [max].” 

he then departed and james hinchcliffe quite literally Stumbled into frame with his own thoughts on the mclaren swap. “it ended to plan, it didn't go to plan,” he said. “they got very lucky with the vsc.” 

he then talked about the vsc. “the timing of the vsc was weird to me” you know with the driver being a solid 10 feet from the track with zooming cars? “i don't think it was done the best it could have been done.” 

and this seemed to be the general consensus everywhere else online. why on earth wait to call a safety car when quite literally we had a driver who was out of the car and standing next to the track? that is quite literally a Safety Problem. and given the timing of the mcalren swap, it seemed Possible that perhaps race control had been waiting for mclaren to swap before calling the car. which is, as im sure you could all figure out, kind of weird and sketchy.

but aside from that. there was still much praise for max. “max played it so smart today,” james said, referring to max selectively murdering charles’s tires by fighting with him for the first half of the race. “with not the best car on track hes still performing above expectations.” 

there was some proper francomania in brazil. so much so that flights from argentina to brazil had sold out. franco said on the post race show that “the rivalry between brazil and argentina is in football not motor racing.” 

pierre had scored a p7 which he was happy with. mostly because it was a points position and those are kinda hard to come by at alpine. 

lewis though just about wanted to quit. they asked him how his race pace was and he said “horrendous. one of the worst races ive had” which is really saying something when you remember that he has had 353 race starts. he wanted to change the car entirely before quali. 

and lance stroll also winked at esteban ocon while they were interviewing ollie bearman. 

most notable quote from the post sprint was this, by max:  

the interviewer asked him: “lando said ‘i don't have to change my driving style, if anyone has to do it, it's max.’ do you agree? you won't change it?” 

and max said: “[im a] three time world champion. i don't have to change anything.”

max, as some of us may forget, is a very good driver, he’s just in a shit car this year and other people are very very fast. finally. but he is in fact a 7 time world champion. he won every race except 3 last year. he’s insane and he loves this sport. it never pays well to underestimate max verstappen.

and with that absolute banger of a line, let’s get into qualifying. 

what's that? its delayed? why is that? 

oh! cause its raining!

like comical, almost biblical amounts of rain. 

during the delay we had one will buxton and one james hinchcliffe speaking to us about all the current drama.

for example: is checo doing enough? apparently christian horner has dialed back the intensity of his support, so whos to say! but then again, this is red bull, they drop people for anything and everything

and they briefly mentioned the audi seat cause everyone is in contention for the audi seat apparently, including gabriel bortoleto, who is currently leading the f2 championship and a mclaren academy driver.

but they mostly debated their favorite topic: what the ever loving fuck is going on at mclaren. 

specifically, this edition: Why Didn't They Swap Cars Sooner????

(please know this conversation was had in rain jackets in the pouring damn rain and it looked like they were like uh we got no broadcast happening cause downpour we need to fill the time we need to fill the time hmmm what to do oh! we got will and hinch! give then a microphone and let them go for it! and that they did)

james thought that they left themselves exposed to max and charles for too long, and apparently mclaren said that it would swap the cars at the first opportunity originally but then they didn't swap when they said over the radio that the gap to leclerc was significant. 

will buxton had a theory: “they’re trying to do it without upsetting either driver” 

he then, in true will buxton fashion, went completely and totally off the rails about it: 

“andrea stella wrote the guidebook for team orders when he worked at ferrari. where is that? [why aren’t they saying ‘you work for us, you do what we say’?]”

“the team [the drivers] needs to understand who pays the bills here” james added.

“if they don't lay down the law now they put themselves in an awkward position or later” will said about how this would affect the future of mclaren because if they were already starting to win now and be in contention for the championships then whos to say that they couldn't do it again next year?

and then, somewhat inexplicably, they stopped talking to us and we had no screens no nothing no view on anyone for about 40 minutes. all we could assume was that qualifying was delayed. 

and that it definitely was. 

once we finally got a visual on the track again it was in fact still raining, and only getting worse. 

but if theres one thing about formula 1, its that they know how to have fun in the rain.

like how they let ted loose in the pit lane and he stalked through the mercedes garage, and proudly told the whole world that bono, lewis’s race engineer, has a carbon fiber cup of tea. and then the camera zoomed in on it.

 

he then also tried to talk to toto by picking up a headset and shouting into it “we miss you toto!” but instead of getting to toto the message went to jack, toto’s son?  

and then someone, i don't remember who, perhaps it was karun, told ted to “look at fred vasseur, hes a handsome man most of the time.” 

the crowds were shouting “ole ole ole franco!” which was different from their usual chant of “ole ole ole senna!” and will buxton told franco that “flights from buenos aries to sao palo have sold out, that's the affect you are having” franco was impressed.

ollie bearman, who has objectively, by the way, been thrown now into three increasingly more insane race weekends (saudi arabia with like a few hours notice, singapore, and now the hellscape that was the giant rain storm in brazil) decided to do the sensible thing and take a nap.

"at his age it's gonna be his bed time soon, right?" one of the servus tv announcers said about ollie.

lewis decided to brave the rain to take some aesthetic rain pics

which he then posted on his instagram story

kimi antonelli was not so lucky. he got shoved into the rain by some mercedes mechanics. for sport.

george meanwhile was off jumping in puddles

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and looking like a polite bowling pin wearing maybe some toe nail polish

and jack doohan made everyone tea in the alpine garage

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oscar had a lovely little chat with fernando alonso

and then so did mark webber 

perhaps the most insane part of this was that no one and i mean no one knew how they were going to decide the grid order, should qualifying not happen. and as it got progressively more and more delayed, that was looking like it was going to be the case. 

the race director told everyone at one point that it was “not really possible to qualify” which was you know, a problem, since that needs to happen in order for them to race. 

hilariously, there was nothing in the regulations for if someone like this were to happen.

next years regulations said that championship standings could be used for qualifying order if qualifying was not able to occur, but that's not this years regs so they couldn't do that. there were though regulations for what should happen should qualifying for a sprint race not be able to occur and that was use the standings from practice 1. and there was also regulations for what should happen if qualifying could not occur on a normal race weekend and that was use the standings from practice 3. but this was a sprint weekend in the main grand prix. so should they use the standings from practice 1? that would be particularly advantageous to haas who had ollie bearman come in third. should they use the standings from the sprint race? that would benefit mclaren. 

“i’ll add this to the list of reasons why i’m glad im not a steward,” karun said.

they continued to debate. everyone went back and forth. theyre going to use practice 1! theyre going to use the sprint! they’ll use sprint qualifying! 

they got a hold of mike krak (the aston martin tp) who said that it was “a bit too dark and a bit too gloomy and a lot wet” definitely too wet for racing. 

sure enough qualifying was then switched from “delayed” to “postponed” perhaps indefinitely. 

there was a chance that they could move qualifying to sunday morning. but the weather was not good for then either. and so the session ended, with no one knowing what the fuck was happening and sir lewis hamilton interrupting f1 ceo Stefano Domenicali’s interview saying:  

"I wanna go out give us better wet tyres and warming blankets so we can go out!" 

and that was it

now, rain at the interlagos circuit is not exactly unheard of. mostly because it is literally interlagos (between two lakes, in portuguese)and theres been some insane rain races here before. namely 2016. max, who was still nearly a rookie and only in his first full year at red bull at that point had qualified fourth but ended up down in 16 with 15 laps to go due to some oversteer and pit stopping. he managed to make it all the way up to 3rd by sheer willpower and insanity alone and toto wolff called it “the verstappen show” because it was “physics…being redefined.” 

another infamous rain race was the one in 2008, the season finale race and where lewis hamilton won his first world championship title at mclaren. he almost lost the title to felipe massa at ferrari. felipe won the race, and lewis was running in 6th around the last few corners to the checkered flag when the person driving in front of him, timo glock, started going slowly and he managed to pass him for 5th place, which was all he needed to get to win the championship. but there were a few minutes of celebration in the ferrari garage where they thought they had won the drivers championship, until lewis crossed the line. and “is that glock going slowly?” is one of those very famous facing quotes

and last year at qualifying in brazil it ended with an absolutely biblical storm (according to crofty) and we got the infamous max verstappen storm lap for pole position

the running fan theory though as to why there was such massive amounts of rain this year was that nelson piquet was in the paddock. why does this matter? well. nelson piquet (a three time world champion and also father of max verstappen’s current girlfriend kelly) was fined 1 million dollars and banned from entering an f1 paddock again as punishment for racist and homophobic comments he made on video about lewis hamilton. and he was just there. in the red bull garage. like nothing was wrong. (this is made infinitely worse by the way that f1 drivers have since been banned from making “political statements” on the track and etc, mostly because lewis in 2020/21 did a bunch of advocating for black lives matter and got some other drivers in on it (he was stopped by the fia for wearing a shirt that said “Justice for Breonna Taylor” and sebastian vettel did some other advocating for the environment and also lgbt community, so they cant really even complain too much about this) 

lewis did though tweet this tweet after that whole incident.

but anyway. qualifying. what was to come of qualifying??

well. let me tell you. 

qualifying was postponed until 7:30am on race day, local time. and the race was moved up to i think 10:30 ??? am? to try and avoid as much weather as possible. which was good progress for f1 cause usually they don't do this. 

it wasn't great for the drivers though who had to be awake at about 4am, barely ate food and jumped into the cars. esteban ocon set his alarm at precisely 4:31.

and george had coffee on an empty stomach. lando had a nutella sandwich. and off they went.

and by off they went i mean, it was still raining. “wetter than a fisherman’s boot” according to crofty.

but they were qualifying.

ollie had never driven an f1 car in the wet before. which he was about to get a whole lot of experience doing.

some drivers though really love the wet. rain at at f1 race, while scary, is sort of a neutralizer because it really comes down to the skill of the driver and not so much the car. george loves the wet (a la spa 2021 when he managed to qualify a shitbox williams in p2) and so does esteban and lewis and max among others.

lance also likes a good wet race. “well hes canadian, lance stroll,” crofty said. “he’s rather good on the ice.”

and to make it extra fun, theres no tire warming blankets for the wet tires to save money, which seems a little counterintuitive, but they don't really get used very often. 

everyone was whipping around, dodging the puddles as best as they could, trying to clear the track of water a little, and we had some interesting people up in the top 5. as in the top five was esteban ocon, fernando alonso, yuki tsnuoda, checo perez, and lance stroll. 

and then, could it be? in this economy? a red flag??? 

it indeed was! and it would not be the last!

it was franco, he had found the wall. he was okay. but the car was not. 

and there was not a lot of time to fix it.

karun took this time to tell everyone that he thought that franco could not possibly get the red bull seat (which was a thing that was being debated hotly in the paddock despite franco saying that he was not in talks for a seat last weekend) because of incidents like this due to his own inexperience. 

crofty brought up a separate but interesting point which was that in all the previous times that we have had qualifying on a sunday, a german has been on pole. 

he is of course, correct. 

japan 2004: michael schumacher

japan 2010: sebastian vettel

australia 2013: sebastian vettel

texas 2015: nico rosberg

japan 2019: sebastian vettel

and there was of course only one german on the grid right now. nico hulkenberg.

“its written in the stars!” crofty proclaimed loudly and to the general annoyance of karun, who did not want there to be a german polesitter this race because then crofty would be “insufferable” about it. 

while they were debating that, the red flag had cleared and everyone went out again. including george russell, who was so impatient to get out that he overtook in the pit lane and despite being impeded a few times, still managed to put his mercedes in p2. 

max got his lap time deleted and was now stuck down in 12th. lewis still needed to get out of the bottom 5 and lando was stuck in 15th. 

everyone had one more lap. 

lewis managed to only go 14th. then got pushed to 15th.

lando managed an okay first sector but needed “a middle and final sector of his life here” in order to clear the elimination zone. and he got a personal best in the middle sector but still only managed to go 14th. he was safe, but lewis was out. along with ollie, franco, nico and guanyu.

(“your run of german poles on a sunday is gone,” karun happily told crofty)

lewis, as could be predicted, was very unhappy with his car. as he should have been. according to crofty he is “one of the top 3 drivers of all time in the wet” and yet. here he was. in the wet. out in q1. 

at the start of q2 it was not actively raining, which was good news. but it was still slippy and people still had on wet tires for the most part. 

george went for a little spin but he was okay. no damage and no walls for him.

carlos was not so lucky. 

he found the barriers. another red flag. 

later he said that he had clearly misjudged the grip.

his crash was pretty big, bigger than francos, and again, theres less than 5 hours until the race. 

everyone was ushered back into the pit lane as the track was cleared and repaired. 

at the time, oscar was leading, followed by george, lance, max, liam, checo, valtteri, fernando, charles and carlos with lanco, pierre, alex, yuki, and esteban in the drop zone. 5:51 to go. 

when they came back on track fernando alonso somehow managed to go fastest. could it be his first pole in over 4000 days???

and as everyone was on their final flying lap, including lando and max and checo, the yellow flags came out. it was lance stroll, he had gone off. 

again, like in the sprint, the cameras did not immediately cut to him. but the announcers said that “i think race control are waiting for these laps to count before calling the red flag.” because several people were on flying laps and it was the end of the session, so it would not be resumed after the red flag.

lando crossed the line. he went fastest. almost immediately the red flag was called. max and checo were unable to finish their flying laps. 

the red flag has had to be called cause lance was in “a dangerous position” 

later, there was a half baked excuse that they thought that lance was trying to get the car moving which was why they did not call the red flag. this, by the way, was the state of lance’s car:

it was clearly not in any state to be driven. 

and yet. it took them 40 whole seconds to call a red flag for this. the previous two red flags were called in under 5 seconds. 

and, need i remind you, that the delay of this red flag allowed for lando to get himself out of the bottom 5 and also knocked max and checo out of the qualifying session. 

now might also be a good time to mention that max had a five place grid penalty for changing his power unit. so he would be starting all the way down in seventeenth. 

and he was fucking pissed. 

because remember. the 40 second delay of this red flag allowed Everyone to finish their flying lap Except for max and checo. so q2 ended with lando in first, followed by fernando, oscar, liam, alex, charles, esteban, george, lance, and yuki with valtteri, max, checo, carlos and pierre all getting eliminated. 

also this is a very very valid safety complaint. it should not take that long for a red flag to be called when the car is not moving, had three clearly broken wheels and is also 15 feet from the track. all the worst accidents in f1 happen when there is a car that is already not moving from an accident or a problem and then it gets hit by another car. there have already been people who have died this way. it does not need to happen again. 

aside from the bs flag call, checo was also pissed at red bull for entirely separate reasons and those reasons were because red bull had waited really long to go out for the final run which was part of the reason why they were not able to finish. 

“cmon guys,” he said over radio. “we gotta do that better…if everyone is already waiting at the end of the pit lane why don't we go?” 

fans were outraged at this. one commented on instagram under a post about the teams qualifying positions “what is checo's garage doing? seriously???” and a red bull mechanic named greg commented underneath it saying “giving him the same tools as max.” then, a second red bull mechanic named charlie commented responded to greg, saying “why you lying for”

so. shit is certainly hitting the fan in more ways than one at red bull. 

but back to qualifying. 

there were no red bulls. which was odd. but we did have nine cars: both mclarens, both rb’s, and one aston, one mercedes, one williams, one ferrari and one alpine. what an interesting mix. 

and it was about to get even more interesting because fernando alonso found a wall. 

another red flag. 

“red flag was much quicker that time,” crofty said. “19 seconds instead of 40.” 

and another wrecked car.

the standing order, with 6:59 left on the clock was lando, alex, oscar, esteban, george, charles, yuki, liam, fernando and lance. 

and the rain could be coming back. 

but there was good news for some people! like alex albon who was, according to crofty “on course for his highest start” as he was currently sitting in p2 rather comfortably. 

and in anticipation for the rain to re start, everyone had already queued up in the pit lane, despite the fact that the track had not yet been green flagged. 

“it’s like the post office on a tuesday morning. you go down to get a box of stamps and they're already queuing up!” crofty said, making absolutely no sense. 

thankfully there was no need to dwell on it because the track went green and they all spilled out again. 

yuki went off and into the gravel, but was able to get out. so there was no red flag. 

that came a few minutes later, for one very, very unfortunate alex albon. 

yes, the same alex albon that had been on course to have his highest ever start. that alex albon. 

and it was a big crash. he ping ponged right across the whole track like a very expensive and very broken ping pong ball. 

he had no idea what happened either. over the radio he asked if the brakes failed. 

and now williams had two very, incredibly broken cars to fix in just about three hours. remember that this team is held together by an excel spreadsheet. 

three minutes, thirty one seconds to go. 

and esteban ocon was seated at the front of the pit lane, waiting. behind him, the remaining six cars still left in the qualifying session from hell. remember this was all before ten am. at least two of them were running on only coffee and nutella. 

“if i were him [esteban ocon], i’d select first gear and then wait ten seconds,” crofty said, speaking about how to impede lando and waste time, who was behind him, when coming out of the pit lane. 

“oh you’re naughty,” karun said. then he went on a rant about how you physically cannot lie to the stewards because they will find out out. he apparently knew this from experience. 

esteban did not impede lando and oscar upon exiting the pit lane. they all came out as they should. 

“glad to see esteban found his first gear no problem and is out on the track,” crofty said. “[this is] quite the day in the championship battle.” 

and that it really was. five red flags, seven cars still standing, max verstappen starting p17, lando finally starting to really close the gap to him in the championship, qualifying at 7:30am on a sunday, race in three hours, rain, back end of a triple header, no one’s been home in a month, and everyone was awake at 4am. 

still, lando managed to improve his time, staying on provisional pole. oscar locked up and didn't finish his lap, he stayed p3. 

liam lawson was gaining. he went second. 

he was then replaced by yuki. for second. 

then esteban ocon pulled out a third, splitting the two racing bulls.

lando extended his pole lap a second time. 

and then george pulled out a p2. 

charles unfortunately did not get in on the p2 fun. he stayed 6th.

and so. 1 hour and 45 minutes and five red flags later, with only barely 3.5 hours to the race. we finally had the starting order of the 2024 brazil gp.

p1: lando norris

p2: george russell

p3: yuki tsnuoda

p4: esteban ocon

p5: liam lawson

p6: charles leclerc

p7: alex albon

p8: oscar piastri

p9: fernando alonso

p10: lance stroll

p11: valtteri bottas

p12: checo perez

p13: carlos sainz

p14: pierre gasly

p15: lewis hamilton 

p16: ollie bearman 

p17: max verstappen

p18: franco colapinto

p19: nico hulkenberg

p20: zhou guanyu

one person wasn’t satisfied with their position and that was charles leclerc. 

“that's p6” his race engineer told him over the radio. 

“that's fucking shit” charles said.

the top three were definitely pleased though.

“a lot going on today,” lando said, accurately. “a little surprised.”

“really pleased to be lining up p2,” george said.  “i loved it [coming in early] to be honest. maybe this is the format for sunday morning.”

“very tricky,” yuki said. “certainly enjoyed it. feels much better than yesterday, good pace.”

yuki also ran into all of his mechanics in victory.

and we got this hilarious picture. 

and i know what you're thinking. did everyone manage to repair their cars in time for the race? 

yes. everyone except for alex albon, that is, who had to withdraw from the race due to significant damage.

what? that was not what you were thinking? 

oh. you want to know if lewis got to drive sennas 1990 mclaren?? 

yeah! he did! before the race! and he did it no handed, in the rain. not to be biased here, but that's my fucking seven time world champion.

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and. finally. without any further ado. the race. or more accurately, the drivers parade. 

charles was standing with pierre and then Yanked his had away from him so that he could shake hands with max. they seemingly developed somehow even more of a soldiers bond here, having a weird unspoken agreement that they were going to stop mclaren at whatever costs, because honestly what else could these two be yapping about, looking like they were teammates? especially when max was one minor inconvenience away from burning down the entire paddock?

meanwhile george and alex were causing all kinds of problems, completely oblivious to the scheming going on around them

and that about sums up the drivers parade. 

onwards. 

to the race. 

it was still slightly raining when the cars all pulled off for their formation lap. and unfortunately that was where the chaos began. 

with lance stroll going off during the formation lap. he then turned out of it and got himself stranded in the gravel after boinking into the wall and was effectively stuck. 

and so there was an aborted start. some drivers, the several at the front, started to go around the track again, but their was confusion from others (like max) if aborted start meant that they did go around again or if they just sat on the grid and waited for the mechanics to come back out. in any case, everyone ended up going around again. 

in the end, it ended up being that lando, the polesitter, was not supposed to go around again. and he did. and a lot of people followed him around. and no one knew if anyone (like his engineer) told him to go around again or he just did it on his own. he was still noted for going, and the whole mess was going to get brought up to the stewards later. 

because what were they supposed to do in that instance? penalize everyone? 

“yet another reason why im glad im not a steward,” karun said.

one thing was for sure and that was that lance definitely should buy his mechanics dinner that night as an apology because they had worked very hard to fix his car only for him to bin it again. (though the car had been in several pieces not too long again and there was a chance something was not connected correctly, he did say later that the car had felt pretty bad to dive in the formation lap) 

this isnt even the first time that a car hasnt completed the formation lap in brazil. just last year charles leclerc crashed on the formation lap due to steering failure. 

once they all arrived back on the grid after formation lap 2 the mechanics came back out and started rechecking the cars and etc while they waited for lance’s car to get cleared. and the mercedes mechanics made a sneaky little adjustment to the tire pressure, hoping that no one would notice. unfortunately, they noticed. 

onto formation lap 3! and thank god! everyone made it this time!

so with 18 cars and a rainy race ahead, lights went out and away they went into lap 1.

george was able to hold onto the lead! 

and at the end of the first lap (which everyone blessedly survived) we had the following order: george, lando, yuki, esteban, charles, liam, oscar, fernando, pierre, lewis, max, franco, ollie, valtteri, nico, guanyu and checo.

that's right. max made up seven places. seven. and lewis had made up five. they were coming. max especially

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checo meanwhile had briefly gone spin, hence why he was now down in last place. 

max passed lewis for 10th, already back into the points by lap 2.

george took the fastest lap on lap 3, already leading by 1.5 seconds. lando took it from him on lap 4. there was no DRS due to the rain, so lando was going to have to pass george the old fashioned style. 

ollie bearman briefly went off the track after a small incident with franco, but he was able to rejoin.

and max passed pierre for 9th on lap 5

and then was up to 8th on lap 6 after passing fernando

meanwhile, along with lando, george, yuki and liam were all also noted for the starting procedure infringement at the beginning of the race. they would have to go with lando to the stewards after the race to hear their fate. meaning that no matter what the outcome of the race was, there was still a chance that they could get slammed with penalties after, so who knew if the real winners would in fact be the winners. 

max, who had followed the rules for the starting procedure, took fastest lap on lap 7 as he started to close the gap to oscar in p7.

lando had started to eat into george’s lead a little, and george was now only .8 seconds ahead. 

and the stewards noted the incident between ollie and franco. ollie received a 10 second penalty for causing a collision. which didn't really make a lot of sense to people as franco didn't really even have any damage.

max was declared to be the fastest man on track, faster than george, as he still zoomed up to the back of oscar. 

meanwhile, lewis’s car had started bouncing, but george seemed unaffected as he took the fastest lap again on lap 10. 

max passed oscar on lap 10, now in 7th. “he came from so far back,” oscar said, entirely not expecting it. 

“max has tremendous confidence,” karun said.

and might i remind you all that it is RAINING

and then he passed liam for 6th on lap 11. unsurprisingly, liam was more compliant with max passing him than he had been with checo passing him in mexico). he was only 2.5 seconds behind charles, who was in p5. he had already made up 11 places in 11 laps in the pouring freaking rain.

lewis was not having as good luck. he went off the track and then got passed by franco. 

“if i was haas i’d be annoyed with the penalty,” the announcers said, referring to ollies 5 second penalty. “nothing is wrong with that williams.”

by lap 15 there was a four way battle brewing for third. yuki, esteban, charles and max. who again i will remind you was 17th a mere 15 laps ago. this performance was starting to put even his 2016 brazil rampage to shame. 

lewis was still not doing nearly as well, he tried to pass franco and failed. 

lando was still in second behind george on lap 17 and said that he was struggling to overtake and that they were slow on the straights. 

and to top it all off. the rain was set to get heavier in 15 minutes time. 

charles, meanwhile, was managing to keep max behind. maybe he had brushed up on his skills since yesterday when max had called him out during the sprint for making so many mistakes over the radio. 

no one had boxed yet. and the rain was starting to come down a little heavier. “getting slippery with these worn tires in the wet” nico said on lap 18. 

and now as we know, its a crapshoot at best figuring out when to box for tires when its not raining. all that gets compounded into a fuckshoot when its raining. because it its expected to rain more soon, you'd want to put on new tires closer to then so that you have a better chance at clearing the water. plus theres always a chance it could get red flagged and then you could get a free pit stop. so the teams needed to get to the point with the big rain and then box for tires and hope that that was the right choice and that no one went off before then.

lando was back to gaining on george on lap 18

and ollie passed lewis for 14th

hamilton was clearly struggling in the mercedes, but george was leading? so was it a lewis problem? was it a car problem?? no one knew

max, meanwhile, was still under a second behind charles, no drs, on lap 20. charles had managed to hold him up for 9 laps and counting, which was a true feat when you remember how many places he has already made up. 

“car’s not driveable mate,” lewis said on lap 21. “locking up, bouncing everywhere.” apparently the mercedes had some kind of a brake problem, but george was managing it just fine. he was still leading. 

on lap 22 max tried to pass charles

charles, clearly, did not let him

“that was charles leclers knowing exactly where max was going to go and defending it a long way out!” karun said.

“he was squeezing me!” max complained. “he didn’t leave a car’s width!” 

no one else seemed to have this view though because the stewards did not note the incident. 

carlos was seemingly having some kind of car problem as he stopped behind ollie and lewis after going off the track briefly. 

and this was all looking like it might be a good time for some new tires. 

by lap 24, with heavier rain rolling in any minute, here were the standings:

george, lando, yuki, esteban, charles, max, liam, oscar, pierre, fernando, nico, ollie, lewis, franco, carlos, checo, valtteri, and guanyu.

the drivers had to make the call for the tires to go to the wets, according to the announcers. its something that the driver has to feel, not really the team, because the driver is the one in the car. 

charles pitted for inters on lap 25.

not full wets, which was interesting (wets have more groves on them, inters have less, and they were about to have a shit load of rain)

lando asked to box to overtake george on lap 26. mclaren wanted him to stay out, despite his protests that he wanted to box for new tires. so he stayed out. 

liam lawson meanwhile went off the track due to contact with oscar. he came back on in 9th.

nico hulkenberg pitted for inters on lap 26

lando was half a second behind george on lap 27

and apparently those inters didn't work too well for nico hulkenberg because he went off track and managed to get stranded on some banking.

a virtual safety car was called on lap 28, though not before esteban ocon managed to pass yuki for third.

again, who knew why it took them so long to call the safety car. 

many people decided to pit. 

oscar, fernando, lewis, ollie, carlos and checo.

and at this point, mercedes was finally reported for adjusting their tire pressure on the grid, which is not allowed! and also very bad news for george should he win the race because usually that behavior results in a disqualification and i don't think that george could handle another dsq after winning this season.

nico hulkenberg, meanwhile, was able to get back on the track

and the virtual safety car ended.

right as george and lando went to pit. which was incredibly unlucky

prior to this, george came on the radio to say that he thought that it was now red flag conditions. and he was probably correct.  

“i think this is going to go red mate,” he said on lap 28. “this should go red. we cant keep a car on the road like this. theres going to be big crashes. theres a big puddle through 4 and 13. there will be a crash there. i think stay out. it should go red.” and that would be good because then george could get his free pit stop and also maintain the lead of the race. 

“understood, understood,” his engineer said. “so box, box.”

“i think, no, its going to go red,” george repeated. 

“box box. box, box. box, box. we need to box,” his engineer said. and so george had no choice but to box. 

someone who didn't box was esteban ocon. he chose to stay out and with both lando and george pitting he was now leading the race on lap 29.

liam lawson and yuki tsnuoda pitted. 

and after all the pit stops, we had:

esteban, max, pierre, george, lando, yuki, charles, oscar, fernando, valtteri, lewis, carlos, checo, ollie, franco, guanyu and nico.

“after a truly awful season,” crofty said. “alpine is 1 and 3.” that they were. somehow. maybe it would stay that way. 

and after all that. lando finally managed to pass george. but only for fourth, not for first. 

and the safety car was deployed for rain.

so now no one could pass anyone. 

esteban ocon had a 7 second lead on max verstappen. 

and franco colapinto took this opportunity to pit for new inters. 

oscar got a 10 second penalty for causing that collision a way long time ago with liam lawson.

and merc were still under investigation for the tire pressure thing.

and then all the others were still under investigation for the start procedure mishap as well. 

at this point, max had gained 15 places. pierre had gained 10. 

and behind the safety car they all pootled along. esteban, max, pierre, lando, george, yuki, charles, oscar, fernando, liam, lewis, valtteri, carlos, checo, ollie, franco, zhou and nico

that was, until franco had a huge crash.

and once again, there was the return of the red flag. 

so now williams had crashed three whole times during the weekend. remember, they have no money and hardly any parts. and the mechanics were distressed beyond belief.  

lando hopped on radio, annoyed with the mclaren strategy error because now everyone at the front (two alpines and max) would get free tires and he would not have the opportunity to get back to the front after they pitted. 

george on the other hand….

“so, red flag, red flag,” his engineer said. 

“fuck!” george cursed. “i fucking said it! shouldve stayed out!”

yuki got a pep talk immediately after getting out of the car from team principal laurent 

and oscar jumped out of his car and immediately apologized to liam lawson for the incident.

“theres a proper variety bag of pick and mix penalties that need investigating,” crofty said. 

including nico hulkenberg who was being investigated for restarting his race after getting assistance from the marshalls pushing him back onto the track

and the results were in. he got a black flag. meaning he fucked up so bad he was disqualified. he was out. and it was the first black flag in 17 years. team haas was really doing it different this year. cause remember kevin got the first race ban in 12 years this season as well.

and ted just happened to watch nico get told this. he felt very awkward about it.

“i cannot watch this anymore, it’s too depressing,” ted said, turning away.

it was then announced that the race would be restarted as a rolling start. in 10 minutes. 

max sprinted down the pitlane. meanwhile george and lewis peacefully scootered. they might still get disqualified for the tire pressure. they didn't seem to care.

george even stopped to get his boots cleaned as he stepped into the car (which yes i know is a thing cause they were wet with water but it looked so funny to see the mechanic wiping his feet like he was a princess)

and alpine, as we know, would be starting 1 and 3. they had not been in the top 5 all season at all whatsoever. 

george did not like that there would be a rolling start. “that’s more dangerous than a standing start,” he said over the radio. 

and carlos thought that they needed 2 or three laps behind the safety car to decide. cause remember it is still very much raining.

but it was officially a rolling start. in six minutes. a rolling start meaning that they wouldnt line up on the grid, they’d go out and do a slow lap and then just zoom! go!

carlos had a problem with his tires as they pulled out onto the track. “ricky,” he said. “these are not new inters. which ones are these? ….hello?” ghosted by his own team.

and they went racing

zhou and bearman ended up in the grass pretty quickly, but they were able to get back on.

lando also went off and came back on just ahead of george. george took the position back.

and charles briefly went off. 

on lap 34 esteban was still leading and had managed to stay 1.5 seconds ahead of max

hamilton overtook alonso for ninth.

ollie went spin spin spin into the barriers on lap 37. he was able to get going again but he had boinked his front wing. which had already been replaced during the red flag.

and yuki suddenly didn't have pace anymore because he was down in 8th. and getting hunted down by lewis.

ollie went off again. “interlagos is really testing him,” crofty said. yeah no shit. prior to this race he had only driven the track once in a video game (not even the sim!) and he has no experience with f1 cars in the wet, much less this much wet.

on lap 39 esteban ocon was still leading by 2.8 seconds now.

and then carlos ended up in the barriers. no red flag, just a safety car. 

he was okay. but he didn't get out of the car. it then became clear that he was trying to get the car out of the barriers before getting out. and thent here was a tractor on track. with a safety car. in the rain. cause that's safe and totally didn't happen at all during the fatal 2015 japanese gp.

it was at this point that they realized that most people who had gone off track had done so because they had gone over the white lines. and remember, the track had just been resurfaced. and despite the anti slip paint, they were still slipping. hm.

also, the last time that alpine had gotten a double podium was back when they were lotus with kimi raikkonen and romain grosjean in 2009 (?)

and, because this race wasn't already interesting enough, there was potential for more rain at the end of the race. 

the safety car ended and they all went racing again on lap 43. ocon, verstappen, gasly, russell, norris, leclerc, piastri, tsnuoda, hamilton, alonso, lawson, perez, bottas, zhou, and bearman. the remaining 15 cars.

and max finally managed to get in the lead. all the way up for 17th place at the grand prix from absolute weather hell. 

lando went off! dropping all the way down to 7th!

meanwhile liam passed fernando for 9th

and fernando went off the track, triggering a brief yellow flag.

max was already 1.5 seconds ahead of ocon. doing what he does best and making a gap. no one had ever won from 17th before at brazil either

and he took the fastest lap too, on lap 45

so our new order was: 

max, esteban, pierre, charles, george, oscar, lando, yuki, liam, checo, lewis, ollie, valtteri, guanyu and fernando 

mclaren popped on the radio with some infamous papaya rules and told oscar and lando to swap positions, so now oscar was in 7th and lando was in 6th, minimizing the damage to the gap that lando had just managed to close in the drivers championship very very minutely. 

charles was noted for rejoining unsafely

and max took another fastest lap on lap 48

“massively impressed with the alpine’s pace in these conditions,” karun said. 

the last time that two french drivers finished on a podium was in 1997 in spain

on lap 50 checo and liam lawson started to battle for ninth. the commentators brought up the ever present talks that checo might not be in f1 next year. 

oscar briefly went off the track, but managed to stay ahead of yuki, who was chasing him down.

and lando, despite the swap, was still quite stuck behind charles, despite having more pace. and we had already seen charles keep max behind for many many laps, so there was no doubt that he would continue to fight with lando. he and max were low key now teammates, after all

and yet, there still might be more rain

checo was still trying to pass liam lawson. he was still failing. 

fifteen laps to go (finally)

max was still leading esteban, pierre, george, charles, lando, oscar, yuki, liam, checo, lewis, ollie, valtteri, guanyu and fernando on lap 55

and checo still could not pass liam

max had an 8 second lead

and even if the race ended up getting red flagged and not resumed for rain, everyone would get full points because the race was more than 75% complete

checo and liam had a minor incident. it was noted. “he drove into the side of me!” liam complained

on lap 57 ted popped on to give his Insignificant and Unnoticed Award of the Day “to fernando alonso, he was 20 seconds down and now hes cut it down and is going to overtake zhou.” 

 max took yet another fastest lap, he was now 10 seconds ahead of ocon

“hes never changed one iota since he came in,” crofty said about max. “sometimes when you get penalized for the same thing over and over you do need to change.” though honestly, max was proving that he really didn't need to change, because he went balls to the wall with confidence unlike any other, and was leading a race he had started in 17th by 10 seconds. in the rain.

and george had managed to get within a second to pierre gasly

if pierre could hold onto third, alpine could jump from 9th to 6th in the constructors championship. which was estimated to be a difference of 50 million dollars in prize money.

lando was told over the radio to go close to leclerc. “i am!” lando said. “what do you think im doing?” 

by lap 63 max was still leading. this time by 13 seconds.

max was set to get 18 points more than lando at this race, and that was before any start penalties that lando might get awarded. 

and he took another fastest lap

on lap 66 max was leading esteban, pierre, george, charles, lando, oscar, yuki, liam, lewis, checo, ollie, valtteri, fernando and zhou

“looking like he [max] will be a 4x world champion and hold off the threat of mclaren,” crofty said.

and then, fernando alonso’s radio crackled to life. 

“i will finish this race for the mechanics, they did a very good job today,” fernando said. “but my back hurts so much, there is so much bouncing. this is not normal.” and he did sound very in pain saying that. this re brought up concerns about the porpoising on the track. lewis had complained about it earlier and its been at no other track this year, meaning that it must be a track thing. meaning further that the track was probably resurfaced badly. because this is not normal. and yes, fernandos been having a terrible time during the triple header. hes been sick, he was in the hospital, he missed media day. this is still not normal though and cant be attributed to that.

lap 68. nearly to the end now. and max was leading by 18 seconds. 

“he’s got more god given talent in a finger than some drivers every have,” karun said,

and meanwhile his teammate was down in 11th, trying to pass lewis for 10th. and failing.

last lap! finally!

and max won by 19 seconds! and he broke the record for most consecutive days leading a championship, breaking the record previously set by michael schumacher. and made it from 17th to first in the rain, despite all odds, in a car that barely worked, no drs, just spite and rage and pure talent. a true world champion

one by one, everyone else crossed the line

p2: esteban ocon

p3: pierre gaslu

p4: george russell

p5: charles leclerc

p6: lando norris

p7: oscar piastri

p8: yuki tsunoda

p9: liam lawson

p10: lewis hamilton

p11: checo perez

p12: ollie bearman

p13: valtteri bottas

p14: fernano alonos

p15: zhou guanyu

“brilliant for alpine today, disastrous for mclaren,” crofty said

max, predictably, was absolutely thrilled saying that it was "SIMPLY LOVELY"

he sprinted to his mechanics, screaming and celebrating everywhere. he kissed kelly. he did not kiss christian. 

this was only the 5th time, in this history of formula 1. 1125 races. that a race had been won from 17th or lower. 

alpine was also thrilled.

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the funniest part was esteba ocon’s radio, where they asked him “did you think we were going to be here?” and he said “funnily enough, no!”

ruben barichello did the post race interviews. 

max said that he “stayed out of trouble, made the right calls.” he had 17 fastest laps. which you can watch here.

and you can watch all of his overtakes here.

esteban was also thrilled. “what a day that was after a difficult season! very happy to be on the podium!” they didn't know that the car would perform this well in the wet. 

and pierre was equally as excited. “its incredibly for the whole team…in these conditions everything was possible. im absolutely buzzing right now….would have been easy to just give up but we never give up.” 

because lets remember where alpine started at the beginning of the season. heaviest car on the grid. and also the slowest. and now, here they were, with a double podium. and scoring the most points out of any team at the brazilian gp (35)  

alpine even made a little graphic, reminding everyone of this:

also, id like to remind you, that pierre and esteban don't really get along. they used to be friends and now theyre not for complex reasons, and they were so overcome by the emotion of their double podium that they effectively ended the french civil war

the cooldown room was quite excitatory. never had we ever seen a podium where everyone was so insanely happy to be there. max said in the cooldown room to esteban that "You were fast. You were so fast I was happy to settle for second."

and of course. we got our dutch national anthem. she was back ladies and gents! she was back!

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and we had the goofiest looking podium selfie

esteban and pierre dropped their champagne bottles down to their mechanics. they celebrated. they were on top of the world.

prior to today, esteban had 5 points. today he scored 18.

“red bull might feel a bit more back in the game,  but they still need 2 drivers,” crofty said. “mclaren are leading by some 46 points.” 

max though, now had a 62 point lead on lando.

and so lets see what our favorite dynamic duo, james hinchcliffe and will buxton, had to say about all of this in the post race show.

“i don't know what we were missing,” james said. “we had everything.” and he was right.

starting off with the fact that max absolutely showed who was boss and now lando has to score 21 points every weekend in order to beat him in the drivers championship. prior to this weekend max hadnt been within 20 seconds of the winner at all in the last ten races. and today he won by almost 20.

and alpine hadnt finished in the top 8 all season!

“i take my hat off to them” will said. “they were 19th and 20th in bahrain, their car was overweight, there was no hope and they got their heads down and they got it done.” 

then we were joined by yuki and liam lawson.

“it was like floating around!” yuki said about the conditions.

“i nearly crashed probably 10 times,” liam said. “i came into the pitlane and i tried to stop nad i wasn't stopping. crazy race.” 

the two of them said that they just didn't have good luck today and got stuck behind others in dirty air. “shame pierre got p3 and they overtook us in the championship,” yuki said. “but we keep going.”

then they examined the start. lando, george and yuki all went for the second formation lap. esteban ocon asked over the radio if he was supposed to say where he was and the tea, said yes. but then they eventually told him to go. james said that this was not great and someone from the team should have reminded the drivers of the procedure. 

lando, george, yuki and liam were all going to see the stewards about the start.

then they moved on to discussing lando. “lando did not have his day when max showed his absolute best,” will said. 

lando said in his own interview that he was “just unlucky with the vsc pit. just that's life sometimes, not talent, just luck….still made a couple of mistakes in the end, little unfortunate….4th was the best anyone who boxed could do.” which, its unclear what hes really talking about here. if hes saying max just had good luck or if he had bad luck. in any case, insane to call a run from 17th to first just luck and not talent. and will buxton agreed.

“verstappen proved once again that he is the best in this sport. to beat the best you need to be better than the best.” and today lando wasn't.

james was in agreement with will, saying that mclaren did make some bad calls and also that max has a habit of putting his car where it doesnt deserve to be

first lando lost to george, then the safety car pit, then his mistakes on track, then he lost position, then he swapped positions and still couldn't get past charles. it was “enough mistakes that it does come down to his driving,” will said. “max was ruthless today. there was no drs and he [still] found it.” 

“doesnt take many mistakes to lose to max” james added.

mclaren also posted one of the strangest post race videos ive ever seen. usually theyre like somewhere in the paddock or whatever. this week they were in what appeared to be a weird dark closet, with lando and oscar only half in frame. oscar sitting on a desk and lando sitting in a spinny chair next to andrea. and it vaguely looked like they were all being held hostage. oscar aso said that “lando has one sock on inside out and that sums up our weekend.”

then they moved on to mercedes. 

“my take is that iv we stayed out we would have been at the front,” george said. “i was pretty angry at the time cause i wanted to say out” because he was confident despite the conditions and thought it would get red flagged. 

by comparison “lewis hamilton looked like he was having a horror show today in the first half,” will said. 

“hes been unsettled with the race car,” james said. “his highlight was before the race even started,” as in driving sennas car. and it was. 

lewis had this to say on instagram about the whole thing

“Grateful for the team and the engineers, we did our best out there but it was a hard race throughout in really tough conditions. This could’ve easily been a weekend to forget but the energy and passion from the fans have made it memorable for me. I still can’t put into words how it felt to drive Ayrton Senna’s car. To share that with this crowd means everything to me. Thank you Brazil for the support and the love. I feel it, even on days like this, and I send it back to you 🇧🇷🫶🏾”

checo, they said “was having a good comeback drive, but then that incident with lawson threw him off.” 

and ollie “equipped himself pretty well.” he said that it was a “tough race…finished p12, quite close to the points…really tough day, learned a lot that's for sure…racing in these conditions the water is quite rare and valuable.” 

will was disappointed in the stewards decision with his 10 second penalty. and they gave him two penalty points as well. 

will tried to also look on the bright side for sauber by saying they could have gotten their first points. 

james was unimpressed by this take.

“i’m trying to out a spin on it, i just want them to get one point this season!” will said. 

they then moved to feranndo alonso, commenting on the amount of pain that he was in at the end. “very 2022,” james said. “havent heard that in awhile, especially with the wet” so it was definitely the track surface itself. 

there was also a clip of fernando getting out of the car post race where he almost needed help from the mechanics.

and they were unimpressed with lance. “he had the ability to get it onto the black and he drove it into the gravel.”

and nico, to them, very obviously got disqualified because he had help from the marshals, something he should have known would happen.

they agreed that it was a tough day for williams. especially losing a place to alpine in the championship.

ferrari also have a “tough day…at the end of two brilliant gps” and charles was “kind of in no mans land today.” 

james agreed. he said they “just never had that spark….salvage what you can kind of weekend.”

“all good things just come to an end,” james said, realistically. 

also on the not having a great day list was oscar. though he thought his penalty was deserved. “it was tricky,” he said. “just trying to stay on track was difficult at some points” 

they also spoke with oliver oakes, the alpine team principal. “big result today,” he said. “we were confident [staying out] was the right chouse but we werent sure [about other peoples choices to stay out]. today is a bug result, doesnt chage what we are doing….gotta stay humble and keep pushing.” 

and alpine were definitely humble about their win

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but they also hula hooped in the trophy

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“i just want to say so many words but i need to calm down first,” pierre said. “unbelieveable, its historical for the team….its been difficult..at the end of the day we never give up…no one thought one alpine could make it onto the podium this year and we made it two…there is so much to say but from p13 to p3 im so happy.” 

and esteban said “i don't know ig we are in reality right now it this is just a dream…my alarm rang this morning at 4:30 and we had no idea….[ive kind of been] thinking when is my rime going to come, if we all had the same car…the cars they level out in some tracks.”

and finally, we had max. “I was very frustrated in qualifying, but tried to use it as motivation in the race….made all the right calls again…was hoping for two points so this is amazing.” he was also asked how driven he was and he said “we had moments, but after that quali where i knew we'd be fast, i nearly destroyed the entire garage. i was barely able to hold myself in. but i started the race very driven. i think i'm the best when i driven, i don't show it an awful lot, but usually yes.”

he was also asked about lando and he said that “if you look a few hours ago it was the other way around…three hard races to go, we need to make no mistakes.” 

so turns out, after all that, max’s quote from earlier in the weekend was correct. he is a three time world champion and he doesnt need to change how he drives. 

this though was too much for the british media to handle and they didn't bother to show up to the press conference. which max called them out on.

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in the end, no one ended up getting penalties from the start and mercedes did not get disqualified. mercedes got fined 5000 euros for each car. and the stewards agreed that "The gate to access the grid was not immediately opened. The FIA accepted that given this short notice it was extremely difficult if not impossible for the teams to follow the procedure prescribed in the technical directive"

which meant. this was our current championship standings. 

for the drivers

max verstappen: 393

lando norris: 331

charles leclerc: 307

oscar piastri: 262

carlos sainz: 244

george russell: 192

lewis hamilton: 190

checo perez: 151

fernando alonso: 62

nico hulkenberg: 31

yuki tsunoda: 28

pierre gasly: 26

lance stroll: 24

esteban ocon: 23

kevin magnussen: 14

alex albon: 12

daniel ricciardo: 12

ollie bearman: 7

franco colapinto: 5

liam lawson: 4

zhou guanyu: 0

logan sergeant: 0

valtteri bottas: 0

and the constructors

mcalren: 593

ferrari: 557

red bull: 544

mercedes: 382

aston martin: 86

alpine: 49

haas: 46

rb: 44

williams: 17

stake: 0

“fun to watch it all, cool to watch it all, but at the end of the day you have to congratulate max verstappen for another championship win,” james said. “by far most dominating performance of the year and one of the most ever.” 

“we leave you with one message resonating louder than ever,” will said, staring directly into the camera. “mess with the bull, you get the horns. we will see you in las vegas.”

the 2024 formula 1 silly season and drama master post, part 2 (part 1 here)

Hello and welcome to ah fucking fuck auto caps fuck fuck fuck how do i turn off auto caps AHA there we go okay. take 2

hello and welcome to the great and very insane formula 1 2024 season drama post, part 2. if you are new here or are just looking for part one (which contains the previous 16 (?) races, the off season, pre season testing and everything else, that can be found HERE. (a word to the wise: open it in a browser, not the app, and preferably on a computer to avoid crashing. its fucking long). 

what the hell is formula 1? car go fast. fastest cars in the world zoom around tracks at top speeds of over 300kph, piloted by the top 20 drivers in the world. it might not sound dramatic, but oh man. you will Not be disappointed. this post focuses on the drama, the insanity, the sheer what the hell how is this a serious sport. no legitimately. we've just about seen it all this year. grindr, dogs, watersports, ice cream brands, its all here.

the point of this post? to educate, to catalog the insane drama, and to just have a good time. people like to gatekeep this sport, there is also a lot happening. i try to make it easy to understand. again, probably best to start at the beginning of the post because it does a pretty good job of explaining things, which i began way back in january, and can be found HERE (again, shes long, be careful)

and, as usual, if you do not want to see this post EVER AGAIN, block the tag #saph explains silly season 2024

and a second caution, i assume this post will be getting long as well. including this one we have minimum 9 updates left!

anyway, those of you who have been following along the whole time, welcome back! i know we got a little delayed. and i know we’re on a new post, so lets just briefly take a second for me to explain what the fuck happened. first i had an anatomy test, second i work 2 jobs with fuck ass hours, third tumblr decided to stop letting me look at any of my drafts, fourth tumblr support ghosted me about the drafts issue and the post was half saving half not so i just decided fuck it, were going with post 2, electric boogaloo, and fifth, i decided to start typing this instead in a google docs so. many changes. if you're new here i am usually more on top of this.

but here we are. were back on street circuits. we’re in baku, azerbaijan, for the start of the last third of the season. 8 races remain, world championship titles are still within grasp of multiple people. the drama is dramaing. and today is september 22, 2024 and lets fucking go. 

first and foremost, on account of the fact that this post is late (again, see above), were going to have to do a bit of a speed run. if you're new here, i promise that this is not representative of my normal dedication to the update post. and for those asking, yeah, ill probably compile it somewhere better than a tumblr post after its all said and done, but we don't have time for that now. 

what we do have time for is the Off Week (and like some of the media stuff). and it was filled with silliness: 

george russell decided to wear what can only be described as slightly ugly yellow short shorts with his taylor swift shirt that he got at the eras tour. this was baffling for several reasons, the main reason being that i don't think the internet knew that he was capable of wearing a graphic t shirt

fernando alonso got his aston martin valkyrie finally. in case you are unfamiliar, a valkyrie i think is the worlds fastest street legal car. he posted tweets about this that made it seem like he wanted to fuck the car. hilariously, the car broke down an hour later.

we also had the very thrilling conclusion to grill the grid. oscar won and he somehow managed to look more pleased about his grill the grid win than his first race victory. 

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nico rosberg went to the green awards and he wore a fantastically insane teal blue suit. yes i know hes not a current driver. but you all like hearing about him so ask and you shall receive. unfornunately i cant find a picture of it though

and also not a current driver is mick schumacher, but my roommate asked me to include that he was seen on his girlfriends instagram being bad at golf. like. exceptionally bad at golf. like he hit a tree 20 feet in front of him.

also playing golf was lando norris. except he managed to look like try bolton from high school musical 2.

he also talked about the world driver championship with his friend max fewtrell while they were playing golf. unfortunately i lost this link in the sea of technical difficulties, but the gist of it was that he was saying that there is still hope for him to beat max in the championship (hes about 60 points behind right now). lando doesnt usually talk about the championship because he doesnt want news outlets to paint him as “desperate” so this was interesting

charles leclerc had an insane off week. first he rear ended someone in monaco. then he spoke at a yacht conference. he was not scheduled to speak at said yacht conference, he was there doing something else and they were like hey you're cool people know you, heres a microphone. he alsp ended up on a weather channel while promoting a karting event he was doing for the jules bianchi foundation (his god father, the one who died during the f1 race in japan 2014). he also changed his instagram pop and re centered it because some random tiktoker told him it matched his aesthetic better.

oscar piastri posted a photo of himself sitting in the cockpit of a plane and then promptly deleted it. because he posted it on 9/11. for anyone who doesnt know what that is, that was when some terrorists hijacked commercial planes and few them into the world trade centers in nyc and the pentagon in washington dc

max verstappen also posted a plane pic with himself and lando norris, but he did not delete it.

we also had the return of daniel ricciardo’s jpg instagram account, which is kinda like a finsta for photos that hes taken. i think lando started this a few years ago. 

heading into the race week we certainly got a weird ass batch of pr. including but not limited to:

lewis hamilton was back on top and slaying in the fit game. as was yuki. 

lewis hamilton also exposed george russell as listening to katy perry pre race. katy perry and taylor swift (this was after he claimed that he liked listening to old school rap music.) though, lewis then started singing wrecking ball???? confusing vibes all around

george was not off the hook yet tho because some intern definitely make him say skidibidi toilet or whatever the thing is idk, i might be gen z but im not insufferable, okay? actually george in baku was just all kinds of unhinged

george and alex also got up to something, what it is no one knows but it is clearly something

max pulled up to the paddock de aged about 10 years. picture one is of him in baku in 2015 (i believe he was 17) and picture 2 is this year. no i am not kidding. 

and franco walked into the paddock telling everyone about argentinian mate (which is a drink, not a friend)

and max shoved a microphone out of the way so everyone could gossip

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then of course, we had some slightly more relevant drama

haas announced that ollie would be replacing kevin at baku. in case you forgot, kevin magnussen received a total of 12 penalty points over the season so far, which means he gets one race ban. how did he get the points? well he was mostly wreaking havoc on everyone else so that his teammate, nico hulkenberg, could drag his car into the points. lets all remember the time in saudi arabia where he managed to get 20 seconds of penalties by basically driving like a mad man just to make sure that nico could keep his position after he pit stopped. anyway, nico was kind of pissed about the race ban situation and said “maybe the guidelines for F1 penalties need to be reviewed as the stewards ‘want to get involved’ no matter the contact.”

in any case though, k mags was out. and ollie was in. we’ve seen ollie before. notably he subbed in for carlos sainz at the saudi arabia gp when carlos had appendicitis. he managed to get points as well. since then, he has been announced as a haas driver for 2025 and is now subbing in for k mags (haas, later in the week called him a super sub. clearly no gen z person read that over.) he can do this because ferrari has a haas engine so they share reserve drivers.

adrian newey finally got employed. i know! i can hardly believe it either! but he did! and youll never guess where! 

ferrari? no that would be too obvious. 

mercedes? nah

williams? no too much of a shit show

aston martin? ding ding ding! just the right amount of shit show! 

that is right. newey is going to aston for 2025. 

apparently he was offered a “good package” according to himself, which i assume means pay and also the fact that lawrence stroll made him a shareholder? stakeholder? whatever its called. in the team itself. basically he has a lot of power. 

he said that he always wanted to work with fernando and lewis. and he couldn't do both. and aston had a better package than ferrari. 

fernando looked positively evil during all the announcement pictures. and called the team "definitely the team of the future" and for those of you who don't know, fernando is positively evil. hes just been stuck in a shit box and we havent seen very much of him, but man does he know how to evilly slut it up. so that will be fun to see.

by contrast, people said that lance was not excited enough. and well. lance 1. has resting bitch face and 2. never really looks excited about anything. also he lives in a world where take your child to work day somehow became his job. (his dad owns the team).

lewis hamilton was asked what he thought about adrian not going to ferrari, and here's what he had to say:

"i feel like, while I have mentioned before that it would be an honor to work with adrian, i have been privileged to work with two championship winning teams that didnt have adrian."

mclaren announced pato o ward would do FP1 in mexico. who is pato o ward? hes one of mclaren’s indycar drivers and one of the f1 reserve drivers. he is incredibly charming and definitely runs his own social media as seen here:

mclaren Also claim they figured out who their number 2 driver is and they claim its oscar. i say they claim because the statements were a lot more complex than that. essentially, according to andrea stella, the priority is to the team first, then lando and then oscar. so they didn't outright say that oscar is the number 2 driver and i am willing to bet real money that this is because mr mark webber, oscars manager, has something in oscars contract that prevents him from being a number 2 driver. this is of course because mark webber was one of the most infamous number 2 drivers in f1 history to none other than menace war criminal sebastian vettel, who in their time as teammates, managed to win 4 back to back world champions. or, top to bottom if you're mrs darbus from high school musical. 

lando was asked about this and he said that yes, the team does support him. though he would not expect oscar to give up a win for him and that it is more complex behind the scenes. i suppose we will see if there are any papaya rules coming out this weekend….

and oscar said "i think the main point is its not purely just going to be me pulling over for lando every single race, because thats how none of us, including lando, wont want to go racing, if we feel that someone has done a much better job on a weekend, whichever way it is, we want that person to be rewarded."

max verstappen commented on the mclaren situation as well. which was funny mostly because red bull has one of the most defined number 1 and number 2 drivers of any team. he said "you look at it form oscar's perspective, he is closer to lando than lando to me. they have to deal with that."

and allow me to put on a tin foil hat as we are about to talk about the future of the red bull seat. because all i have to offer here is a baseball hat and a red bull can. 

a long time ago we talked about the red bull cans. the ones that red bull makes to promote f1. at the end of last season red bull put max and checo on the red bull can. this season at the start it was just max on the red bull can. well. now checo has reappeared on the cans too. and i will tell you what i think this means. it means that checo is not getting swapped this season, which was a possibility for awhile. 

but! there is more! 

daniel ricciardo made an instagram post this week. and it was very interesting. but most interestingly he was wearing a red bull hat.

which he does occasionally, no big deal really. he did race for the for several years, he technically does currently. BUT then he showed up TO THE PADDOCK wearing the red bull hat.

which is Big Interesting. usually you show up in a statement outfit or wearing the team kit. and daniel is not a red bull racing driver. he is a visa cashapp racing bulls driver. they might be owned by red bull but they are Not the same team. so why the red bull hat. in the paddock. well, the rumor is that hes taking checos seat for 2025. and the rumor is that this will be announced before mexico. so checo can have a proper send off. 

and with that. the baku lore. 

theres a lot that has happened at baku. as i said its a street circuit. and i think its the fastest street circuit. but over the years theres been some notable events. 

such as the great kimi raikkonen radio for gloves and steering wheel:

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they gave mini kimi this week gloves and steering wheel in honor of that

the max and daniel crash in 2018 when they were running p1 and p2 respectfully

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and of course. how could we forget. charles’s infamous “i am stupid” radio.

speaking of charles, he crashed again in fp1. not quite in the same spot, but nearly. he took a picture with the marshalls. 

then in fp2 he rage quit, basically saying that the car sucks. 

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but he was back and better than ever in practice three because he managed to top the time charts. welcome back fuck ass ferrari.

some other teams definitely experienced the lows but not really the highs of baku during practice. like lance stroll who came on the radio to say “this is not a car” (good thing they have adrian newey now, right? 

franco colapinto also cut his ear before practice on the neck strengthener stretcher thing that they all use and the team wanted to give him stitches but he was like no no no i need to be in the car in about 5 minutes im not doing that. so he jammed on his helmet and jumped in the car. he also crashed and when he went to the medical center he took off his helmet and there was blood everywhere and they were like no no no you cannot race! and he was like no! this is not from the crash! and then explained it and they let him do qualifying. 

also im pretty sure? ollie bearman crashed? in practice? but frankly i don't have time to google it so whos to say. 

but alas. qualifying. 

i know i know this is kind of a shitty update. i promise ill go all out in singapore. i PROMISE. 

so as i said. its a street circuit. high speed. 90 degree corners. and also windy as hell. we also had the dynamic duo of karun and harry in the commentary box. 

max led the first practice, george led the second and i think charles led the third. or some order like that. 

slipstream here is almost essential (slipstream: going behind another car to reduce the wind drag so you can go faster) 

charles has the last three pole positions (first in qualifying) here in baku, but he has never won. by comparison, red bull have never had pole here but they have won. 

and franco has never been to baku before. 

i think that's all the exposition that we need here. 

q1 started with max complaining about his car. “the car is jumping around like crazy on the rear axle” he said. despite this he was sitting in p3. 

the mid field battle though….the mid field battle was heating the hell up. mostly because none other than franco colapinto, who if you will remember, has never been to baku before, had split the two ferraris. he was in third for the moment, .109 seconds behind carlos sainz and .159 seconds ahead of charles leclerc. we still had a lot of qualifying left to go, so this was probably not going to stay, but it was still insane. he was pushing insanely hard, nearly kissing the walls. clearly he had learned from his crash in practice. 

the two mclarens waited until the very end of q1 to do their final flying push lap, and oscar made it through, but tragedy struck for lando. 

lando was in the middle of his last flying lap, time was ticking down, and there was a Very Brief yellow flag on the track. now, according to rules, you cannot complete your flying lap if there is a yellow flag. so lando pitted and was stuck down in 17th and out of qualifying. this would be the first time that he was out in q1 since vegas last year (which if i remember correctly was also not his fault) 

now though, of course nothing is ever that cut and dry. people thought that there had been a mis showing of a flag. yellow flag means that a car is stopped on track, white flag means that a car is going slowly on the track. and people thought that there had been a yellow flag shown when it was actually supposed to be a white flag (if there had been a white flag then lando would have been able to keep doing his flying lap) lando himself said that he had no idea what people were talking about because there is a light on the steering wheel that lights up when flags are called and he had a big yellow light. so it was clearly a yellow flag. 

if you're concerned about lando being able to pull it out of the bag, id like to point you in the direction of the mexican gp last year where lando qualified 17th and finished 5th. on a track that was hard to overtake on. he can be absolutely insane when he wants to be. worry not gentle reader. 

in any case. also out in q1 was daniel ricciardo, valtteri bottas, zhou guanyu and esteban ocon.

and notably, williams, who was on fucking fire this weekend as we already saw, finished q1 with alex albon in second (ahead of oscar) and franco colapinto in 8th. pierre gasly had somehow managed to also get into 4th. and nico hulkenberg was in 7th with ollie bearman in 13th. i told you the mid field battle was heating the hell up. 

q2. everyone zoomed straight out of the gate. they didn't want to get lando norris’d. but, speaking of that, if lando managed to get no points in the race and charles managed to win, charles would overtake lando in the drivers championship. mark webber himself told this to charles, who was absolutely baffled. 

in any case, charles was kinda suffering right now and that was because he was not getting slipstream from carlos to make his lap faster. meanwhile, carlos seemed to be actively trying to give charles the slipstream because he came on radio to say “he keeps missing the tow” 

and amazingly, franco colapinto was 4 tenths AHEAD of alex albon. alex albon who had not been unqualified by his teammate once since the start of 2023. ex red bull driver alex albon. that alex albon. 

max topped the times in q2, followed immediately by charles. insanely, fernando alonso managed to drag the aston martin to fifth. and franco was right behind him in 6th. by comparison alex albon was in 10th. 

and from q2 we lost ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda (who has never qualified lower than 8th in baku), pierre gasly, nico hulkenberg and lance stroll. so yes, ollie bearman managed to outqualify nico hulkenberg. this is ollies second ever f1 race. 

steaming on forward to q3. 

we had, for review, in q3 the following: 

both ferraris, both red bulls, both mercedes, both WILLIAMS (has not happened since vegas 2023), plus fernando alonso and oscar piastri. 

right out the gate it was wild. 

“red bull! theyve re found their mojo! or have they!” karun said. red bull were in 5th and 6th and not entirely sucking for the moment. 

everyone did one flyer and then came out at the end for a second flyer. 

here were the standings: 

charles, carlos, oscar, george, checo, max, lewis, alex, franco, fernando

and everyone was making it to the line and all was going smooth until-

wait a second what is that

could it be! alex albon! with the air box fan still on his car! surely not!!!

oh but it was! and harry and karun were like oh wow so unfortunate for williams tisk tisk

meanwhile ted jumped on the radio to Loudly announce to everyone that this was insane and if i have time here i will put the rant he ranted cause it was Fantastic.

and what do you know i have time

so we had 3 minutes left qualifying and everyone was pulling out of the pits for their last flyer when oscar hopped on the radio to say

"the williams still has the air box fan in"

"oh what an error! disaster for williams!" karun and harry said. they speculated if the marshalls could get it or if the session needed to be red flagged. but alex threw the fan off the car.

and then they asked "ted have you ever seen that before?" and ted did not hold back:

"ITS A MASSIVE YELLOW FAN HOW COULD YOU MISS IT???!!! HOW COULD THE MECHANICS MISS IT???? I CANT BELIVE THEY WOULD MAKE SUCH A MISTAKE DOWN AT WILLIAMS! SUCH AN EXPERIENCED BUNCH OF GUYS AND GIRLS! WHAT IS GOING ON AT WILLIAMS OPERATIONALLY? HOW COULD YOU SEND A CAR OUT LIKE THAT?"

alex, obviously, got fined for an unsafe release 5k euros. he also had to throw the fan off to the side and got slightly covered in dry ice. he did not get to the a second flying lap. 

franco did tho!

and here were out qualifying results: 

p1: charles p2: oscar p3: carlos p4: checo p5: george p6: max p7: lewis p8: fernando p9: franco p10: alex  p11: ollie p12: yuki p13: pierre p14: nico p15: lance p16: daniel  p17: lando p18: valtteri p19: zhou p20: esteban 

oh ho ho but we werent done yet. because pierre gasly got disqualified from qualifying. for failing fuel flow regulations. and lewis was going to have to start from the pit lane for changing his power unit. 

everyone, and by everyone i mean oscar max and checo, pretty much said that charles was going to get pole no matter what, they knew this coming in and the best they were trying for was second

onto the race. 

notably, this is considered a checo track. this was one of the three races that max did not win last year. because checo won it. its a track that he does well on, evidenced by the fact that he qualified above max in qualifying. so people were expecting big things from him.

and so, we head into lap 1.

charles managed to hang onto the lead. checo passed carlos straight out of the gate for third and max managed to pass george to take fifth. lando had managed to get ahead of nico and up into 13th. notably, franco held onto 8th and ollie was able to hold onto tenth. 

someone who was not doing well was lance stroll, who came on the radio saying that he had a puncture. this was from contact with yuki. lance had to pit for fresh tires and was pretty immediately thrown to the back of the grid. 

by lap 2 lando had managed to get past daniel and was in 12th, he was trying to get past yuki next, which he managed by lap 3. yuki also lost a  spot to nico. 

also slaying in the mclaren was oscar, who took fastest lap. then charles took fastest lap.

and lewis hamilton, who had started from the pit lane, was up to 16th. already. somehow. though he was displeased with the tires, sayig that “this tire is pretty bad” over the radio. 

yuki meanwhile was clearly having a problem because he had started going very very slowly. thought the pit wall said that he had no problems. this would later turn out to be false but we will indulge them for the time being. 

franco was STILL ahead of alex albon on lap 6. STILL. 

lando on lap 8 managed to push his way into points positions, overtaking ollie bearman for 10th. though this was where things were about to slow down for him because in front of him were alex, franco and fernando, who were all very close together and would be hard to get past. 

george was back in bad luck hell as a plastic bag entered his airbox. will he ever catch a break. 

on lap 11 nico hulkenberg finally caught up with ollie bearman and passed him for 11th. 

and max’s car was not working. to potentially no one’s surprise. “i have zero bite in the car” he said. and this was probably true because checo was a whole 6.5 seconds ahead of him. insane gap. 

several pit stops later that i will not detail out because we simply do not have the time, alex albon ended up in 4th and lando ended up in fifth. and oscar was about to get undercut by checo. 

“mojo seems to be back for checo perez” harry said, correctly. 

mojo was back for him indeed. and now he was right behind lando. 

and if you will recall, according to mclaren themselves, priority at mclaren is the team first, then oscar, then lando. but oscar was ahead of lando. so what did mclaren do? 

they asked lando do hold up perez, but not compromise his own race. 

remever a long time ago when i said mclaren wouldn't have any internal drama this season? man how i was wrong.

lando managed to hold up perez for around a lap or two before he got past. this was crucial because this was during when oscar was in the pits. 

thanks to lando and the power of the papaya rules teamwork, oscar ended up coming out in 4th, only .706s ahead of checo. 

mclaren are working together everyone! mclaren are working together!

meanwhile, turns out that yuki did indeed have problems because he retired on lap 17 with a hole in his sidepod from the contact with lance on lap 1. this was now two races in a row where he had had to retire for reasons out of his control. 

several more people pitted. and eventually charles was back out in front, oscar was in p2. until he wasn't. no, he didn't dnf. he overtook charles! he was in p1! he popped out of nowhere! nowhere being 2 car lengths back and just flooring it to spring around charles like a little silly slinky! karun called it a “good, fair and robust defense,” which sounds like its descibing notes in wine. but this was not wine. this was the baku gp. and we were only half done. 

ollie bearman was defending against lewis hamilton, holding on tightly to 14th place. 

charles was still behind oscar and he could not get past, despite the fact that he was still very much in spitting distance. “they are pushing like crazy or they have more grip than us” he said. 

carlos got past both lando and alex albon and was up into 4th

this brought max up behind lando. max was on 11 lap old tires and lando was on 24 lap old tires. but lando still defended like hell and managed to hold onto sixth. max was 0.632 seconds behind lando on lap 25 when he said that “my brakes are not working.” this was hardly a surprise. max has hated the car since china.

also experiencing technical difficulties was sir lewis hamilton. he was stuck down in 14th and was first told to do “everything you can do to get the surface temp down” of the tires. he said “im trying” then several laps later on lap 29 he came on the radio to say “are you seeing how i have to drive this thing?” “yes,” bono, his engineer said. “quite effective though.” 

max was still half a second behind lando. mclaren faked a pit stop call over the radio to get max to pit. he did not. 

but, george russell did manage to pass him. which was “not good for max’s world champion aspirations.”

this was also when ted very bafflingly said that “if i had a sofa in the pit lane i would be jumping up and down on it” im not sure what that was in response to. 

meanwhile, ollie was still holding off sir lewis hamilton. and charles was trying to get oscar to pit again by lying over the radio. it was not working. 

lando did a pit stop finally and came out a whole 15 second behind max. he was hoping to catch max by the end of the race. but it might be tight. lets go last lap lando. 

“lando, imagine andrea on your shoulder saying ‘zero wheel spin’ in every exit,” lando’s race engineer said. if you're confused, everyone else was too. 

10 laps to go and here were the order of affairs:

oscar

+.449s charles +1.865s checo +2.989s carlos +16.530s george  +1.909s max +11.535s lando +9.715s fernando +2.589s alex +2.451s nico +4.667s franco +1.590s lewis +1.261s ollie +1.791s pierre +9.205s daniel +23.919s esteban  +.789s lance +3.862s valtteri +3.631s guanyu 

lando was determined. he took fastest lap on lap 43 and was 8.8s behind max

at this point, the leaders were starting to lap the cars in the back. “the back markers are starting to come up,” checo’s engineer said to him. “its going to get messy.”

“hold onto your hats and if you don't have one go get one and hold onto it” harry said. harry would turn out to be correct. 

we had the top 3 all running very close to eachother, that was oscar, charles and checo and “welcome to the party carlos sainz!” who was now 1.2 seconds behind checo in the four way battle for the lead.

definitely not leading was lance stroll, who retired on lap 47 with a brake problem. 

oscar managed to pull ahead of charles by 1.5 seconds, finally knocking him out of DRS range. so now it was a three way battle for second. and charles had “no rear tires. no rear tires at all.” 

and, just like i said he would, lando managed to pass max on lap 49. he was closing the gap slowly in the championship. 

“verstappen’s day goes from bad to worse,” harry said. because lando still had fastest lap, so he would score 3 more points than max. which is important if lando wants to beat max in the championship (though i think hes still like 60 points behind)

meanwhile! franco managed to pass nico hulkenberg for 10th! he was in the points!!!! at his second race!!! 

but this was short lived because there was a crash! a big smackeroo! between carlos and checo!! checo was mad, carlos didn't know what happened. 

what happened was that carlos was trying to pass checo but checo did not move over. it was deemed an equal fault accident. both of them were utterly confused at what happened and apparently spent 20 minutes in the medical center being utterly lost and aparently saying that sometimes this sport sucks. and! contrary to what several people said! checo did not bang on carlos’s helmet after the crash. 

the crash actually caused chef's dad to have a heart attack. he is stable now.

and well. this clip of george from the post qualifying interviews definitely didnt age well:

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but! since we were a matter of a few laps from the end, this meant that the rest of the race was finished under a virtual safety car. 

which meant 

OSCAR PIASTRI WINS THE AZERBAIJAN GP

and george inherited p3! 

and on his own merit too! no safety cars, no team orders, no weird shit! 

“yes!” he whispered over the radio. 

he almost fell getting out of the car, then gave us all the “one moment” hand gesture before properly celebrating. 

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he also got driver of the day! 

(this was marginally better than george russell, who said over the radio “i cant get any rubber (to pick up on his tires) all im getting is leaves”)

gunther steiner also hosted the post race interviews. which was interesting. 

george said that the most difficult part of the race was “driving full gas into a wall of carbon fiber on the penultimate lap…the vsc should have come out sooner” 

charles bashed ferrari because they didn't do any high fuel runs in practice. 

oscar was entirely pleased. “i managed to overtake and hold onto it for the next 35 laps..one of the better races of my career.” and honestly, oscar winning a race straight after mclaren basically announcing that he was their number 2 driver is nothing short of hilarious.

and! mclaren was now leading the constructors championship by 20 points! for the first time in ten years!!!!

the top three had a moment outside of the car that was filled with baffled: 

and oscar's engineer tom got to stand on the podium with him. he usually takes a selfie with oscar after each race he podiums at, but he was too excited to so george took this picture for them

(george also aparently demomished oscar in a game of uno on the plane, immediately humbling him)

george also shielded himself from the champagne on the podium

the cooldown room reacted to the crash in a very straight forward manner:

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and very quickly cause its midnight and the singapore gp starts in 8 hours, the post race, speed ran: 

-mark webber told off laura winter for thinking that oscar didn't have good tire management

-alex albon was “super happy, that's a lot of points for us” (williams finished in 7th and 8th). he cut his own interview short when ollie bearman arrived, saying “I can go, im happy to go” and then waving comically. 

-williams was so pleased with this result they blasted everyone with champagne. and they overtook alpine in the constructors championship! this was also their best race finish all season

-(and a quick note, if youre going to really blame logan for being that shit of a driver here, please remember that the car he was driving was several rounds of upgrades behind alex's pretty much the entire time he was driving it)

-ollie became the first driver to ever score points in his first two races for two different constructors because the double dnf pushed him up to 10th place. he said that there was not much difference between the haas and the ferrari, the ferrari was just red

-franco continued to charm everyone and flirt with the reporters. 

-they interviewed george and lewis and the camera had to be adjusted for george's height. it was comical and resulted in my favorite edit so far of the season (sound on)

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-lando looked pleased and happy for once. he said about holding off checo that “i didn't hold him up i just had to cool my tires a little.” he was delighted to be leading the constructors for the first time in ten years and he defended alex albon saying “i struggled to get past alex for a while, which is common, alex doesnt make mistakes.” he also ratted on max for going to fast during the VSC and said “i didn't complain, facts were stated.” and to sum it all up he said that “im executing things well, i’m very quick…i’m not going to be the happiest guy, but i am never the happiest guy….car is performing well everywhere…some red cars behind us seem to be our biggest competitors right now” 

-by comparison george insulted all of pirelli. the tire people. “pretty infuriating that it (the pace) changes this so much….its black magic, people who make the tires don't understand the tires…..for 20 laps we had a car not worthy of points and for 20 laps we had a car fighting for victory and the only difference is the tires.” 

-lewis was notably upset after the race and walked through the paddock with his helmet on, not wanting to talk to anyone. but he did talk to franco and ollie and congratulate them on a job well done defending against him and racing against him. franco even fangirled over this on his instagram. 

-charles was clearly upset with ferrari. he was so upset he posted a thirst trap.

-and oscar. oscar was very happy this afternoon. and his mom was there! she doesnt usually come cause it scares her, but nicole was there today! 

-mclaren celebrated with a hell of a lot of champagne. both oscar’s wina and lando’s insane recovery, and the fact that they were leading the championship. red bull have been dethroned, at least for now. 

-there was so much champagne that lando took off his socks to spray it. all seems well at mclaren. 

-at least one thing is for sure, oscar had a better time here this weekend than last year when he got food poisoning and only ate four pieces of toast

and with that. we head into singapore. quite literally as it is starting in a few hours. again, i apologixe about this post. its a little sad, but the next one will be better. pinkly promise. 

see you all soon!!!

[darthteeth]

(^ picture of my draculaura at the top as a bribe)

Im at my wits my parents have still not finalized their divorced yet my deadbeat has bought a new fucking house but getting him to help me or my disabled sister can be like pulling teeth.im tired of explaining myself I'm burned out and suicidal I just want to meet one big mutual 4id goal, I've been taking care her and my own medical bills since 2022(and with help from dnations and friends money)but back then I had hope because I didn't know what long covid is or how serious it can be, I had no idea I HAD long covid I thought I would recover eventually. But I never did, now it's almost 2025 and I wanna shoot myself and get it over it. If you see this please share or dnate and if u want to see my old post check out the link below

TLDR: URGENT MUTUAL 4ID HELP A CHRONICALLY ILL PERSON AND THEIR DISABLED SISTER

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[slytherinsmuse]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Yours, Always | Theodore Nott ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem! Reader

Warnings: characters are 18+, not canon,SMUT (minors please look away), smoking, drinking

Summary: Smut, fluff, light angst|Amidst the quiet chaos of a summer at the Malfoy Manor, Theo and his ex navigate the tension of unresolved feelings .

Word count: 12108

author's note: This is a bit longer than what I have posted. Honestly I hope you enjoy because I feel like I am bad at writing smut (despite loving to read it).

The fire crackled and hissed as the group gathered around it, the orange glow casting flickering shadows across the sprawling Malfoy gardens. The scent of freshly trimmed hedges mingled with the faint aroma of smoke, the warmth of the flames competing against the cool evening breeze that whispered through the manicured lawns. Laughter echoed through the warm night air, conversations overlapping in a symphony of easy companionship. Astoria leaned into Draco’s side, her hand resting lightly on his knee as they exchanged whispers. Daphne and Blaise shared a bottle of wine, their heads close together, their laughter a soft, musical undercurrent. Pansy was perched on Mattheo’s lap, giggling at something he’d said, her wine glass dangling from her fingers as though she’d forgotten it was there.

And then there was you.

You sat silently in one of the ornate garden chairs, its wrought-iron design digging faintly into your back as you nursed a glass of wine. The firelight danced on the surface of the dark liquid, flickering shadows reflecting your own stormy thoughts. You did your best to appear absorbed in the flames, as though the mesmerising flicker of orange and gold could distract you from the oppressive knot tightening in your chest.But the warmth of the flames did little to thaw the cold discomfort that had taken up residence there.

It had been a mistake to come. You knew that now.

You’d spent the better part of the past week convincing yourself you could handle it—convincing yourself that enough time had passed since your breakup with Theodore Nott, that you could sit across from him and feel nothing. That you could be surrounded by the memory of what once was, of what you’d lost, and still hold yourself together.

You’d been wrong.

Theo sat across from you, lounging with his usual effortless ease. The firelight played in his sharp features, highlighting the angles of his jaw and the unruly strands of dark hair that had always refused to obey him. His long legs stretched out lazily, one arm slung over the back of his chair. Every so often, his gaze would flicker your way, lingering just long enough to send a shiver crawling up your spine, only for you to quickly look away, pretending not to notice. You could feel the weight of those glances, though, burning as vividly as the flames that cracked and danced in front of you.

The tension between you was suffocating, a silent storm raging beneath the veneer of calm you both pretended to wear. And yet no one else seemed to notice. The couples were too wrapped up in their own happiness, too absorbed in their easy laughter and whispered conversations, to see the battle playing out in the spaces between you and Theo.

Not that the tension was entirely his fault. If anything, it was your own for agreeing to come in the first place. You’d known the risks. But you’d come anyway, clinging to the false hope that you could prove something to yourself—prove you’d moved on. Instead, you were sitting in silence, your heart twisting painfully every time Theo laughed at one of Blaise’s sarcastic quips or leaned back with that maddening smirk.The worst part wasn’t just Theo. It was everything. The whole scene was a cruel reminder of what you didn’t have anymore—what you’d lost not once, but twice.

The couples were like something out of a picture-perfect fairy tale, their laughter and soft touches a sharp contrast to the gnawing ache in your chest. Astoria’s fingers lightly traced patterns on Draco’s arm, her delicate laugh blending seamlessly with his quieter chuckles. Daphne and Blaise were a study in effortless intimacy, sharing quiet jokes you couldn’t hear, their heads so close they might as well have been sharing the same breath. Even Pansy and Mattheo, chaotic as ever, were locked in their own little world, her laugh ringing out as he whispered something in her ear that made her swat his chest.

The breakup with Theo had been bad enough. It had left you raw, hollowed out in ways you hadn’t thought possible. But at least you’d had something to blame then. At least you could point to the fight, the accusations, the heartbreak, and tell yourself it had been inevitable.

But then came the Ravenclaw. The safe, soft-spoken boy who had seemed like the perfect antidote to Theo’s sharp edges and cutting words. The boy who had treated you with kindness, who had said all the right things and made all the right moves, but who had left you with the same emptiness.

“I think you still care about someone else.” he’d said when he ended it, his tone tinged with sadness. “And I think you need to figure that out before you can give your heart to someone new.”

You hadn’t been able to argue with him. You’d known he was right.

And now here you were, back where it all began, surrounded by couples who had figured out how to make it work, while you sat across from the boy who had broken you, pretending you weren’t still in love with him.The fire crackled again, louder this time, a log splitting in two as it fell deeper into the flames. You glanced up instinctively, your gaze colliding with Theo’s.

For a moment, neither of you looked away.

His eyes held yours, dark and unreadable, the firelight reflecting in their depths. Your breath caught, and for the briefest second, it felt like the world had gone quiet, like the laughter and chatter of your friends had faded into nothingness. You looked away, breaking the moment before it could shatter you completely. You took a long sip of your wine, forcing yourself to focus on the heat spreading through your chest instead of the ache threatening to overwhelm you.

It was going to be a long two days.

The glass of wine felt heavier in your hand as your mind wandered again, thoughts spiralling down paths you’d tried to block off. You’d kept your breakup with the Ravenclaw—Dennis—a secret from your friends, not wanting to ruin the excitement of finishing school. They had all been so wrapped up in their plans, their triumphs, their relationships. The last thing you’d wanted was to bring them down with your own failures. Besides, it wasn’t like you had the energy to explain it. The breakup had been amicable, sure, but it had left you feeling hollow. It wasn’t just the end of the relationship that hurt—it was the reminder of how little you’d truly felt for him, how you’d used him to try and forget Theo, and how much you’d failed.

You barely registered the voices around you until Astoria’s clear, sweet tone broke through the haze of your thoughts.

“Do you have any plans with Dennis this summer, Y/N?”

Your stomach sank at the mention of his name. The fire popped loudly, punctuating the sudden tension that tightened around your chest.

You glanced up, finding all eyes now on you. Astoria’s question was innocent, her gaze curious but kind. It wasn’t her fault, of course. None of them knew. You opened your mouth to answer, but the words stuck, your throat suddenly dry. You could feel Theo’s eyes on you again, sharp and piercing, but you refused to look at him.

Reluctantly, you forced a smile, doing your best to sound casual. “No.” you said, your voice a little too light. “No plans.”

There was a pause. Then Blaise chimed in, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What, is he too busy nerding out over his books or something?”

You chuckled nervously, trying to play it off. “Something like that.”

But Daphne wasn’t so easily distracted. She leaned forward slightly, her expression soft but probing. “Wait—why not? Didn’t he say he wanted to travel with you this summer?”

The group was silent now, all of them waiting for your response. Even Pansy, who had been laughing moments ago, seemed to have stilled.

You swallowed, the laughter bubbling in your chest too bitter to contain. “Because we’re not together anymore.” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

The reaction was immediate. Astoria’s mouth fell open slightly, her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh.” she said softly, her hand instinctively tightening around Draco’s arm.

“What?” Blaise asked, his tone incredulous. “Since when?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Daphne added, her voice gentle but concerned.

You shrugged, forcing a chuckle that sounded too hollow to your own ears. “It wasn’t a big deal.” you lied. “It just… wasn’t working out.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that stretched uncomfortably long. You took another sip of wine, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat.

“Well, good riddance.” Pansy said, breaking the tension with her usual bluntness. “He was too dull for you anyway.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks for that, Pans.” you said dryly.

But you could still feel the weight of the others’ concern. Daphne’s worried glances, Astoria’s quiet sympathy, even Blaise’s rare seriousness as he studied you. You hated it. What you hated most, though, was Theo. Or rather, the fact that you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and unrelenting, as if he could see straight through the flimsy façade you were putting up. You refused to look at him, but you could almost hear the thoughts running through his mind. You could imagine the way his jaw would be tight, the way his fingers would curl into his palm as he tried to stop himself from saying something biting or too honest.

“Honestly, good for you.” Blaise said after a moment, his tone lightening. “Dennis never could keep up with you anyway.”

You chuckled faintly, murmuring a quiet “thanks” before finishing the rest of your wine in one long gulp.

“Well…” Astoria said, clearly trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground, “that just means you’re free to enjoy the summer without any distractions.”

You nodded, forcing another tight smile. But as the conversation shifted, their voices growing louder and more cheerful again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else wasn’t letting the subject go. You risked a glance at Theo then, just for a second. His eyes met yours, and the intensity there made your breath catch. He didn’t look smug or amused, the way he often did when you were forced into the same space. He looked serious. Concerned, even. The knot in your chest tightened as you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on Astoria’s voice. You hated how easily Theo could read you, how he could strip away the carefully constructed walls you’d built without even trying. But more than that, you hated how much you still wanted him to.

You sat up quietly, the ornate chair creaking softly beneath you as you placed your empty wine glass to the side. The laughter and chatter of your friends faded into the background as your fingers slipped into your pocket, fishing out the small carton you kept hidden.

Cigarettes.

It was a habit you had once despised—one of Theo’s worst, in your opinion. You’d argued with him countless times about it during your relationship, hating the smell, the way it clung to him like an unwanted shadow. But now? Now it was a habit you had picked up yourself. The irony wasn’t lost on you as you flicked the lighter, the soft flame dancing briefly before the tip of the cigarette glowed. You inhaled deeply, the familiar burn spreading through your chest, and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl lazily into the night air. It was another secret you’d kept from your friends, like so much else. They didn’t know. They didn’t know about the cigarettes, the way you craved the sharp edge they gave your frayed nerves, the way they dulled the ache that nothing else seemed to touch.

The wine in your veins and the hollowness in your chest made you not give a fuck.

You ignored the glances from the others. Astoria’s subtle frown, Pansy’s raised brow, even Blaise’s brief look of surprise. None of them said anything, though. Perhaps they could sense that this wasn’t the time to pry, or maybe they were just too shocked to find the same girl who used to chastise Theo for his smoking now doing the very thing she’d hated. The only one who didn’t seem remotely surprised was Theo.His gaze locked onto you immediately, his expression unreadable. You felt the weight of it, sharp and piercing, as you took another drag. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, though. You focused instead on the fire, on the way the embers popped and sparked against the night, on the rhythmic rise and fall of your own breath.

But you could feel him watching you. Not with judgement, not with pity, but with something else entirely—something that made your skin prickle and your heart ache all at once.

“Didn’t know you smoked, Y/N.” Blaise finally said, breaking the silence. His tone was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of curiosity behind his words.

You exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift away before answering. “There’s a lot you don’t know.” you said simply, your voice calm but distant.

“Clearly.” Pansy chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. “What’s next? You’re going to tell us you’ve taken up gambling?”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Not yet.” you replied, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at your lips.

The group laughed, the tension easing slightly, but the moment didn’t feel any lighter to you. The cigarette burned between your fingers, a bitter comfort, as you leaned back in your chair and stared up at the dark sky.

Theo’s voice cut through the chatter then, low and measured. “Thought you hated smoking.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, one laced with a weight that only you could feel.

You froze for a heartbeat, the cigarette hovering near your lips, before taking another drag and exhaling slowly. “Things change.” you said quietly, refusing to look at him.

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Theo didn’t push further, but you could feel his gaze lingering, pressing against you like a touch you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Anyway…” Astoria said brightly, clearly desperate to shift the mood, “Who’s up for another round of wine?”

The others murmured their agreement, the conversation picking back up as the bottle was passed around again. You stayed quiet, the cigarette slowly burning to its end as you stared into the flames.

And across the fire, Theo kept watching you.

As the night deepened, the alcohol began to take its toll. Laughter grew louder, gestures more exaggerated, and the conversations turned increasingly ridiculous. Astoria was the first to start giggling uncontrollably, leaning heavily into Draco as she slurred something about how he was “too perfect for words.” Draco smirked, the kind of self-satisfied grin that only he could pull off, before helping her to her feet.

“Well.” he said, clearly amused, “I think someone needs to call it a night.”

Astoria protested weakly, but her flushed cheeks and half-closed eyes betrayed her exhaustion—or at least her inebriation. The two of them disappeared into the house, Draco’s hand resting lightly on the small of her back.

That was all it took for the others to follow suit.

Blaise stretched dramatically, letting out an exaggerated yawn as Daphne rolled her eyes but still stood with him. “Time to get some rest.” he announced, though his smirk told a very different story.

“Rest?” Pansy snorted, clearly not buying it.

“Shut it, Pans.” Blaise shot back, his smirk widening as Daphne tugged on his arm, steering him toward the manor.

Mattheo and Pansy weren’t far behind, though their departure was accompanied by far less subtlety. “Come on, love.” Mattheo murmured, his voice low and suggestive as he lifted Pansy effortlessly off her feet, making her squeal with laughter.

“Absolutely not.” she objected, though her arms were already looping around his neck. “Put me down!”

“Not a chance.” he replied with a grin, carrying her off toward the house without so much as a glance back.

And just like that, the once lively circle around the fire dwindled to two.

You and Theo.

The fire crackled softly, the only sound breaking the stillness that now enveloped the garden. You leaned back in your chair, gripping your empty wine glass as though it might anchor you somehow, your gaze fixed firmly on the dying embers.

You didn’t have to look to know Theo was still there. You could feel his presence, sharp and unavoidable, just a few feet away.

“Guess it’s just us now.” he said, his voice low and even, cutting through the silence like a blade.

You glanced at him then, unable to help yourself. He was lounging in his chair, as calm and composed as ever, but there was something in his expression—a flicker of tension, of something unspoken—that made your chest tighten.

“Seems that way.” you replied quietly, your voice carrying a faint edge.

The silence that followed was thick, heavy with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between you. The fire burned lower, the orange glow dimming as the night stretched on, and still neither of you moved. You hated this—hated the way he could make you feel so unsteady, so raw, with just his presence. Hated the way your chest ached every time you looked at him, a painful reminder of all the things you’d tried and failed to forget.

But most of all, you hated the way some part of you was glad it was just the two of you now.You risked another glance at Theo, only to see him pull a cigarette from his pocket. The motion was unhurried, almost lazy, as he tapped it against the carton before placing it between his lips.

The faint flicker of his lighter caught your eye, the soft glow illuminating his face for a moment as he lit the cigarette with practised ease. He took a slow drag, the ember flaring bright against the darkness, and exhaled a stream of smoke that curled lazily into the air.

You couldn’t help but watch him. The way his long fingers held the cigarette, the slight tilt of his head as he blew out the smoke—it was captivating in a way you hadn’t expected, your breath catching before you forced yourself to look away.

“Are you going to tell me off for it again?”

His voice broke the silence, low and laced with a faint hint of amusement. You glanced back at him, only to find his eyes on you now, sharp and curious, as if he’d been waiting for your reaction.

You shook your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back in your chair. “No.” you said simply.

He raised a brow at that, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Really? No lecture about how it’s a disgusting habit? Or how I’m going to ruin my lungs?”

You met his gaze, your expression unreadable. “I’m not exactly in a position to judge anymore.”

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your own cigarette and lighter, ignoring the way his smirk faltered slightly. You lit it with a soft click, inhaling deeply before exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

Theo’s eyes widened slightly, the surprise flickering across his face before it quickly vanished, replaced by something more guarded. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied you, the cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers.

“When did that start?” Theo asked, his voice softer now, though still tinged with curiosity.

You shrugged, taking another slow drag of your cigarette. The smoke curled lazily from your lips as you exhaled, your eyes fixed on the glowing embers of the fire. “A short while after we broke up.” you admitted, your tone calm but distant, as if the words didn’t weigh as heavily as they did.

His brow furrowed slightly at your response, and for the first time that night, the carefully guarded mask he always wore seemed to slip just a fraction. He didn’t respond immediately, instead taking another drag from his own cigarette, his gaze flickering to the fire before returning to you.

“Didn’t think I’d be such a bad influence.” he said finally, his tone dry but lacking the usual sharp edge.

You gave a faint, humourless chuckle. “You weren’t.” you replied simply, tapping the ash from your cigarette. “It wasn’t about you. Not entirely.”

Theo tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “Not entirely?” he echoed, his voice low, almost cautious.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you stared up at the night sky. The stars were faint, their light muted by the glow of the fire and the lingering smoke that hung in the air. “It was… everything.” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “The breakup. The mess it left me in. The way it felt like nothing else worked to fill the silence.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the fire crackling between you. You didn’t look at Theo, didn’t want to see the expression on his face. It was hard enough to admit it, to give voice to the hollow ache you’d carried for far too long.

“That’s why you do it?” He asked finally, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “Because it reminds you of me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, sharp and unrelenting. You turned to look at him then, your breath catching at the way his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching and raw in a way that left you feeling exposed.

“It’s not that simple.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Isn’t it?” he asked, his tone softer but still insistent.

You shook your head, turning away again. “No. It’s not.”

Theo leaned back in his chair, exhaling a slow stream of smoke as he studied you in silence. “So why keep doing it?” he asked finally.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you took another drag of your cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling it slowly. When you finally spoke, your voice was steady but distant, as though you were speaking about someone else entirely.

“Because sometimes, it’s the only thing that feels real.” you said quietly. “The burn. The taste. The way it makes everything else fade for a little while.”

Theo didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and searching. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N.”

The words hung in the air between you, raw and unguarded, cutting through the smoke and silence like a blade. You turned to look at him then, your heart clenching painfully at the way his usual composure seemed to crumble, just slightly, around the edges. For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo looked vulnerable.

“I know.” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. “We were both at fault.”

The admission felt heavy on your tongue, but it was true. You’d spent so much time blaming him for the pain, for the fallout, that you’d almost forgotten the ways you had contributed to the mess. The silence, the assumptions, the stubbornness that kept you from reaching out when it mattered most. The stillness that followed was heavier than any argument, thicker than any words could cut. Theo looked away first, his gaze falling to the fire as he took another drag from his cigarette. The ember glowed brightly in the dim light, casting a fleeting warmth across his sharp features. And still, neither of you moved to leave.

A burst of laughter carried across the night air, high and distant. You turned instinctively toward the mansion, catching the faint echo of Astoria’s giggles. The soft hum of voices followed, muffled by the grand walls of Malfoy Manor but still audible enough to remind you of what was happening inside. You could picture it vividly and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy twist in your chest. Not at them, not specifically. It wasn’t Astoria or Daphne or Pansy you envied. It was the ease. The simplicity of their happiness. The way they could exist without the weight of the past dragging them down, without the constant reminder of what could have been. And here you were, sulking around the fire with your ex, smoke curling between you like a barrier you didn’t know how to cross. Your attention shifted back to Theo, drawn by the subtle movement of him standing. He stubbed out his cigarette against the armrest of his chair before stepping forward, using his foot to scatter the embers of the fire. The dying glow of the flames cast shadows across his face, emphasising the lines of his jaw and the faint crease between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice breaking the quiet.

He didn’t look at you, his focus on the fire as he pressed the embers into the dirt. “Putting it out.” he said simply, his tone neutral.

“Because it’s late.” he replied, finally glancing your way. His gaze lingered for a moment, unreadable, before he added, “Why? Would you rather sit out here sulking all night?”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking toward the softly lit windows of the mansion in the distance. The distant giggles and murmurs carried faintly on the breeze, a reminder of exactly what was happening inside.

“Do you really want to go back right now?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Theo raised a brow, clearly catching the hint in your voice. “Yeah, why not?” he said, though there was a trace of amusement in his tone. His smirk widened slightly as he tilted his head, studying you. “Unless…” He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air before his eyes narrowed playfully. “Are you jealous, Y/N?”

Your head whipped around, your mouth opening to protest immediately. “Jealous? Of course not.” you snapped, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed you. “Why would I be jealous of… of that?”

Theo chuckled softly, his deep laugh low and knowing as he straightened. “Sure you’re not.”

“I’m not.” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him, though it only seemed to amuse him further.

He took a step closer, the smirk still tugging at his lips. “You’ve got a terrible poker face, you know.”

You sighed heavily, the fight draining out of you as you glanced back toward the mansion. “Fine.” you muttered, reluctantly. “Maybe I am. Just… a little.”

He didn’t tease you this time. Instead, his expression softened, the humour in his eyes giving way to something more understanding.

“Come on.” he said, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “We’re going for a walk then.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden suggestion. “What?”

Theo gestured toward the shadowed path that led deeper into the Malfoy gardens. “You’re not going back in there, not like this. And I’m not about to sit around while you mope about whatever nonsense is running through your head.”

“I’m not moping.” you argued half-heartedly, but he was already walking away, his long strides carrying him toward the path.

“You coming or not?” he called over his shoulder, not bothering to look back.

You hesitated for only a moment before sighing and following after him.You walked beside Theo, your hands slipping into the deep pockets of your oversized hoodie as the cool night air wrapped around you. The quiet crunch of gravel beneath your feet filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not yet. Theo glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips, breaking the stillness.

You frowned, your head turning to him with suspicion. “What are you laughing at now?” you grumbled, your voice carrying more irritation than you felt.

He didn’t respond immediately, his smirk growing as he nodded toward you. “That hoodie.” he said, amusement lacing his tone.

You blinked, looking down at yourself, confused. “What about it?”

“That’s mine.” he said simply, the smugness in his voice unmistakable.

You froze mid-step, the realisation hitting you like a gust of wind. Your heart sank as you recognized the worn fabric, the familiar scent of him that still lingered faintly in the material. You cursed yourself internally for not even thinking about it when you’d grabbed it earlier.

“Shit.” you muttered under your breath, your cheeks heating.

Theo’s chuckle deepened as he stopped and turned to face you fully, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his trousers. “Didn’t think you were so sentimental, Y/N.” he teased, though there was a softness in his tone that you couldn’t quite place.

You glared at him, tugging the hoodie closer around you defensively. “I didn’t even realise, okay? I just… grabbed it.”

He raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure you did.”

You sighed heavily, your gaze dropping to the ground. The memory of when he’d given you the hoodie tugged at the edges of your mind, unbidden but vivid. It had been almost two years  ago, during a late night in the common room after everyone else had gone to bed. You’d been complaining about how cold it was, wrapping yourself in a blanket that didn’t do much to help.

Without a word, Theo had pulled off his hoodie and tossed it to you, muttering something about how you were “hopeless.” You’d teased him at the time, but you hadn’t given it back. And he hadn’t asked for it, either.

Now, standing here in the dark with him staring at you, that memory felt closer than it should.

“You want it back?” you asked finally, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Theo shook his head, the smirk fading into something softer as he glanced down at the hoodie. “Keep it.” he said, his voice low. “Looks better on you anyway.”

Your heart stuttered at his words, but you quickly pushed the feeling away, rolling your eyes for good measure. “Whatever.” you muttered, shoving your hands deeper into the pockets as you started walking again.

Theo followed after you, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Can’t believe you’ve been wearing it this whole time.” he said, his tone lighter now, teasing but not unkind. “Didn’t think you were the type to hold on to old things.”

“I’m not.” you shot back, refusing to meet his gaze. “I just didn’t feel like wasting money on a new one.”

“Right.” he drawled, clearly not buying your excuse.

The crunch of gravel underfoot filled the silence between you as the two of you walked deeper into the gardens. You could feel Theo’s presence beside you, steady and familiar, but your thoughts were far away, tangled in memories you didn’t want to revisit.

“You gonna tell me about Dennis, or do I have to guess?”

His voice cut through the quiet like a sharp knife, low and casual but carrying enough weight to make your shoulders tense.

You stopped mid-step, glancing at him with narrowed eyes. “What about Dennis?” you asked, your tone defensive.

Theo shrugged, his hands still stuffed into his pockets. “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you two aren’t together anymore?” His brow arched slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not exactly subtle back there when you told everyone.”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking, your hands tightening in the pockets of his hoodie. “There’s nothing to tell.” you said flatly.

“Come on, Y/N.” he pressed, his tone softer now, less teasing. “You were with the guy for months. What happened?”

You hesitated, your steps slowing as you debated how much to say. The breakup was still fresh, the wound not quite healed, but there was something about the way Theo asked—genuine, even if his curiosity was layered with his usual smugness—that made you feel like he wouldn’t let it go.

“He ended it.” you admitted finally, your voice quiet but even.

Theo’s brows furrowed slightly as he glanced at you. “Why?”

You let out a soft, humourless laugh, shaking your head as you stared ahead at the shadowed path. “Because he figured out what I was too afraid to admit. That I wasn’t over…” You trailed off, your stomach twisting as the words caught in your throat.

There was a long pause, the kind that stretched uncomfortably but wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Theo didn’t say anything right away, and when you finally glanced at him, his expression was unreadable.

“Me.” he said quietly, almost like a statement rather than a question.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze dropping to the ground as your stomach churned with a mix of frustration and something you couldn’t name. “Don’t flatter yourself, Theodore.” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

He let out a soft chuckle, but it lacked his usual confidence. “I wasn’t trying to.” he said, his voice low.

Silence fell between you two once again. Theo stopped walking, and when you realised he wasn’t beside you anymore, you turned to face him. His eyes were dark, focused on you in a way that made your chest tighten.

“Did you love him?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. The answer rose in your chest before you could stop it, but it wasn’t one you wanted to give. Finally, you shook your head, exhaling softly. “No.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t.”

Theo’s expression softened slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he nodded. “That’s what I thought.” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” he said lightly, though his tone carried a sternness you couldn’t ignore. “Just… I always knew you couldn’t fake it.”

His words lingered in the air between you as his gaze held yours. You hated how easily he could read you, how his words had a way of hitting exactly where they weren’t supposed to.

“Dennis is a good guy.” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “He didn’t deserve to be with someone who was only half there.”

Theo tilted his head slightly, his smirk fading into something more serious. “Maybe he didn’t. But that’s not on you, Y/N.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze dropping to the ground as your hands tightened in the pockets of his hoodie. For once, Theo didn’t push. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing yours lightly as he started walking again.

“Come on.” he said, his voice softer now. “Let’s keep moving.”

You followed him without a word, the quiet night wrapping around you both as you walked side by side.

You hesitated for a moment before breaking the silence, your voice careful but laced with curiosity. “What about you?”

Theo glanced at you, one brow arching slightly. “What about me?”

“Have you been in a relationship?” you asked, your tone as casual as you could manage. You kept your eyes ahead, pretending you weren’t entirely invested in his answer.

For a moment, Theo didn’t respond, his silence louder than any words.

You pressed on, a faint smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself. “I mean, I’ve seen you around plenty of girls. But none of them ever seemed to stick. Why is that?”

He let out a soft laugh, though it was more defensive than amused. “You’ve been paying attention, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “We are in the same friend group, I see it without needing to look.”

Theo’s steps slowed slightly, his gaze falling to the ground as he ran a hand through his hair. For once, he seemed caught off guard, his usual smirk nowhere to be found.

“Maybe I just haven’t found the right person.” he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant.

You glanced at him, frowning slightly at the shift in his tone. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” you teased lightly, though the look on his face made your chest tighten.

Theo sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kept walking. “It’s not that simple.” he muttered.

You tilted your head, watching him closely. “Why not?”

He stopped then, turning to face you fully, and for a moment, you swore he looked almost… vulnerable. His usual mask of confidence and indifference had cracked, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something raw beneath the surface.

“Because.” he started, his voice low and hesitant, “nobody else…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he looked away, his gaze fixed on a distant point in the darkness.

“Nobody else what?” you asked softly, your heart pounding as you took a step closer.

Theo exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Nobody else could replace you.” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words hit you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. You stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to process what he’d just said.

Theo’s gaze flicked back to you then, his expression guarded but his eyes betraying the depth of his emotions. “Happy now?” he asked lightly, though his voice lacked its usual edge. “That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Theo…”

He held up a hand, cutting you off. “Don’t…” he said, his tone firmer now. “I didn’t say it so you’d feel sorry for me.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

Theo let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he started walking again. “Forget I said anything.”

But you couldn’t forget. Theo’s movements were different now. No longer slow and lazy, no longer calculated and confident. His hands shook slightly as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, the lighter flaring unsteadily in the dark. The sharp glow lit up his face for a moment, and for the first time that night, he looked completely exposed. Vulnerable. He didn’t say anything as he took a deep drag, but the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers twitched around the cigarette—it was obvious he was trying to hold himself together. But he wasn’t. Not really.Without a word, Theo pushed ahead of you, his strides long and purposeful, the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. He didn’t look back, his shoulders stiff as though bracing himself against something unseen.

You bit your lip, your heart racing as you stared after him. His words still echoed in your mind, raw and unfiltered, unravelling something deep within you.

Nobody else could replace you. You didn’t know how to feel. Guilty? Relieved? Angry? Everything tangled together in a mess of emotions you couldn’t name, couldn’t tame. All you knew was that you couldn’t let him walk away like this.

With a shaky breath, you hurried after him, your footsteps crunching against the gravel. “Theo, wait.” you called, but he didn’t stop.

His shoulders tensed further at the sound of your voice, his hand lifting the cigarette to his mouth for another sharp inhale. The smoke curled around him, a barrier he was trying to erect between you, but you weren’t about to let it stand.

“Damn it, Theodore!” you snapped, reaching for him.

Your fingers caught his arm, and he stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a look that made your breath catch in your throat. His cigarette hung loosely between his lips, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. His eyes were wide, burning with a mix of anger and pain, and something else—something that made your chest tighten painfully. For all his sharp edges, Theo had always been able to hide behind his smirk, his sarcasm, his infuriating charm. But now, all of that was gone, stripped away to reveal the raw truth beneath. He looked… lost.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said finally, his voice low and rough. “I’ve been trying to forget. I’ve been trying to move on. But every fucking time, it’s you. It’s always you.”

The words struck you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond. All you knew was the weight of his gaze, the raw vulnerability in his voice, and the ache in your chest that had been growing since the day you lost him. Your gaze dropped to the cigarette in his mouth, the bitter smell of smoke filling the small space between you. Without thinking, you reached up, plucking it from his lips and tossing it to the ground. His eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t stop.Standing on your tiptoes, you closed the distance between you, your hands grabbing the front of his shirt as your lips crashed into his.It was intense, all-consuming, every ounce of anger, pain, and longing pouring into the kiss. For a moment, Theo didn’t move, frozen in shock. But then his hands found your waist, gripping you tightly as he kissed you back, his movements desperate, hungry, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had. The world seemed to blur around you, the night fading into nothing as you pressed yourself against him. His lips were warm, familiar, and the way he kissed you—it was like he was trying to say all the things he hadn’t been able to put into words.

I still love you.

The thought crashed over you like a wave, and you tightened your grip on his shirt, pulling him closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, the ache in your soul finally easing as the walls between you crumbled. Theo’s hands slid up your back, one of them tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his breath mingling with yours. He kissed you like he was afraid to stop, like he was afraid this moment would slip away if he let go. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other as the silence wrapped around you again.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

“Shut up.” he growled lowly, his voice rough and desperate, sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could react, his lips crashed onto yours again, fiercer this time, more demanding.

Your body melted into his, the intensity of the kiss igniting a fire deep within you. His hand tightened in your hair, the other gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. This wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything. Every argument, every hurt, every word you’d left unsaid. Every moment you’d spent trying to forget him, only to fail. It all came rushing back, raw and unrelenting, as if your souls were trying to bridge the chasm you’d created between you.

You didn’t even realise your hands were moving until they slid down his chest, resting on his lower stomach. Theo’s abdomen flexed under your touch, muscles coiling tight as he groaned into the kiss. The sound vibrated through you, making your knees weaken. You clung to him, nails digging into his skin as he pinned you hard against the cold stone wall of the Malfoy manor garden. Your bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, curves moulding perfectly as the heat of your bodies merged into one. You felt the thick ridge of his growing erection pressing insistently against your belly, and a needy whimper escaped your throat. Theo broke the kiss, panting harshly as he stared down at you with wild, desperate eyes. 

“Tell me you want this.” Theo demanded, his voice ragged and trembling with barely restrained emotion. His hands gripped your waist firmly, grounding you, as though afraid you might slip away before he could hear the answer. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The words weren’t just a demand; they were a plea. His eyes, dark and burning, searched yours with an intensity that left you breathless. Vulnerability hung in the air between you, raw and unguarded, cutting through the desperation like a blade. But you didn’t hesitate.

Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt as you surged forward, wrapping your legs around his waist in one swift motion as you jumped up. He caught you instinctively, his arms tightening around you with a strength that made your heart race. Instead of answering with words, you crushed your lips into his, the kiss fevered and consuming. It was the only answer your brain could come up with, the only way you could convey the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. His response was immediate. His hands slid to the curve of your hips, gripping you tightly as he pulled you impossibly close. He kissed you like it was the last thing he would ever do, like the world might fall apart if he let go. The heat between you was electric, your body pressing against his as his lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. Every ounce of tension, every unresolved feeling, every unspoken word came pouring out in the way his hands roamed your body, the way his breath mingled with yours.

You gasped softly as his teeth grazed your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips moved to your jawline, then to the sensitive skin just below your ear, his voice a low growl as he murmured, “Say it.”

Your breath hitched, your fingers threading into his hair as your heart pounded in your chest. “Theo…”

“Say it.” he demanded again, his voice rough and desperate, his hands tightening their hold on you.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes locking with his. The raw intensity in his gaze made your knees weak, even as his arms kept you steady.

“I want this.” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute. “I want you. I am yours.”

Theo's eyes flashed with triumph and relief, his grip on your bare thighs.“Mine.“ He breathed, the single syllable a vow, a declaration, a promise. His hands roamed your body with renewed urgency, caressing, claiming, branding you as his own.Every brush of his fingers ignited something within you, a fire that had been dormant for far too long.

“You have no idea how much I've needed to hear you say that.” he muttered, his voice rough and unsteady as he buried his face in the curve of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

His lips found your collarbone, trailing fiery kisses along the sensitive line as his fingers slipped under the hem of your light summer dress, hidden beneath the oversized hoodie. The fabric bunched beneath his touch as he slid his hands higher, his thumbs brushing against the bare skin of your ass with an aching tenderness that contrasted the raw hunger in his movements.

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling into his hair as you tilted your head back, giving him more access. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word felt like a balm to the wounds you’d both been carrying. 

“Theo…” you whispered, his name a plea, a prayer, a surrender.“Not here…”

“You’re right” he breathed his heart pounding with every syllable.

Theodor’s eyes  never left yours, their fervour unrelenting as he began moving, his strides purposeful and hurried. The gravel crunched beneath his boots as he carried you through the shadowed garden, the cool night air brushing against your skin where his hands weren’t already burning their way into you.

You barely registered the shift in scenery, too consumed by the heat of his touch, the dizzying press of his body against yours. But when the faint glow of lights from Malfoy Manor appeared ahead, reality intruded just enough for you to pull back slightly, your breath coming in gasps.

“What’s your plan?” you whispered, your voice shaky, though not from hesitation. 

“To my room here.” he muttered, his voice low and ragged. “I’m not in the mood for the others finding us like this.”

The thought of being caught sent a thrill through you, though you knew he was right. You tightened your arms around his neck, leaning into him as he navigated the winding garden paths. His movements were quick, almost frantic, yet he carried you as though you weighed nothing, his grip on you secure and unwavering.

The glow of the manor grew brighter as he approached, the grand building towering above you like a silent witness to what was unfolding. You couldn’t stop yourself from studying his face as he walked, the tension in his jaw, the way his brows furrowed in concentration. He looked so different from the Theo you’d known in the past—hardened, raw, but still achingly familiar.

The two of you slipped inside through a side entrance, the cool marble of the manor floor muffling his hurried footsteps. The distant echoes of laughter and conversation from the others reached your ears faintly, but Theo paid them no mind, his focus entirely on you.

His lips found your neck as he ascended the stairs, the faint scrape of his teeth against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. You clung to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt once again as he carried you through the hallways with a confidence born of familiarity.

When he finally pushed open the door to his room, the soft click of the lock echoed in the quiet space. The moment the door closed, he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as if reluctant to let go.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence charged with an intensity that made your chest tighten. The faint light from the window cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the vulnerability in his eyes that he no longer tried to hide.

“You’re sure?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you met his gaze. “Theodore Nott, I haven’t slept with another man since we broke up. Of course I am sure.” you said, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart.

A shaky breath escaped him, and then his lips were on yours again, the kiss deeper, more deliberate this time. His hands slid down your back, pulling you flush against him as the tension between you snapped like a tightly drawn string. In the quiet sanctuary of his room, with only the faint moonlight as witness, you allowed yourself to fall completely, surrendering to the moment and to him.

“You haven’t slept with Dennis?” Theo grumbled as he pushed you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes roaming your figure.

You only managed to shake your head as your fingers quickly worked on unzipping your hoodie.

“Good.” Theo growled approvingly, watching intently as you shed your clothes. His own garments joined hers on the floor in a rush of movement, leaving them both bare and wanting. He loomed over her, his muscular frame casting a shadow across her skin, his heavy arousal jutting proudly from between his thighs. 

Theodore leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle, exploratory kiss. His tongue swept across her mouth, tasting her sweetness, while his hands began to roam her body once more. They traced the curves of her breasts, thumbs brushing over hardened nipples, before sliding down to cup her hips. Gripping her gently, he rolled his pelvis in a slow, teasing circle, grinding his length against her core. Lilith moaned into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched into him. Breaking the kiss, Theo trailed his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh. Every touch of Theo’s hands felt achingly familiar, yet somehow entirely different. There was a softness to his movements, a deliberateness that hadn’t been there before, as though he was rediscovering you with a reverence that made your heart ache. The way his fingers trailed against your skin, the quiet intensity in his gaze—it was all so electrifying, so much more than you’d remembered. It was as if the time apart had sharpened everything, making each shared moment feel more vivid, more real, more right than it ever had before. Reaching down, Theo guided himself to your entrance, the swollen head of his cock parting your slick folds. With a low groan, he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful yet calculated stroke. You moaned out, your back arching off the mattress as you adjusted to his size. Theo stilled, giving you a moment to acclimate, his face a mask of concentration and tenderness. 

“Are you okay, amore?” he whispered, his voice low and gentle, cutting through the charged silence like a soothing balm.

The nickname made your cheeks flush, warmth spreading across your face in a way that caught you completely off guard. You’d heard him call you that a million times before, the word slipping so easily from his lips in the past. But now, it felt entirely new. It wasn’t just a word anymore; it was a promise, a reassurance, a reminder of everything that had been and everything that still lingered between you. Theo smiled at your reaction, pleased by the blush staining your cheeks.

“I'm better than okay.”  You managed to breathe out he murmured, your body shivering as his hands glided over your sides to settle on your hips once more. 

“So beautiful…”  Theodore groaned softly, punctuating his words with a slow, deliberate thrust, withdrawing almost completely before sinking back into your warmth. 

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure rippled through you like lightning. Leaning down, Theo captured your lips in another deep, sensual kiss, his hips finding a steady rhythm. As he explored the wet heat of your mouth, his fingers found your nipples once more, rolling and tugging gently until they hardened against his palms. Breaking the kiss, he gazed into your eyes, his own darkened with desire. 

“Tell me what feels good, amore.” he urged, his voice a husky whisper, thick with both longing and vulnerability. “Guide me.” 

The words sent a shiver through you, not because of their intensity, but because of the way he said them—so raw, so open, as though he was offering every piece of himself in that moment. His gaze held yours, unrelenting yet tender, and you could feel the weight of his sincerity settle over you like a blanket. It wasn’t just a plea; it was an invitation, a chance to bridge the distance that had once separated you, to rewrite the way your story had ended. Your heart swelled at the raw emotion in his words, your own vulnerability mirroring his. You reached up, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until your foreheads touched.

“Touch me.” you whispered breathlessly, your breath mingling with his.You guided his hand lower, to where their bodies were joined, urging him to experiment, to explore the sensitive places only he knew. As his fingers danced over your clit, you bucked your hips against him, a low moan escaping your lips. 

“That's it, don’t stop… please.”  you panted, your hips rocking in time with his. Theo obliged your pleas, his touch growing more confident, more insistent, driven by your pleas and the desperate need burning within him.

Theodore’s touch was like lightning, electrifying and all-consuming, igniting a fire under your skin that you hadn’t known could burn so brightly. Every brush of his fingers, every deliberate movement sent waves of pure ecstasy coursing through you, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. It wasn’t just the sensation—it was the way he made you feel cherished, like every part of you mattered in a way that was almost overwhelming.

Theo's fingers continued their relentless assault on your clit, each stroke combined with his harsh thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He watched you closely, drinking in the sight of your flushed skin, your parted lips, your wild hair splayed across the pillow. 

“You feel so good.” he breathed, his own arousal throbbing inside you in time with your quickening heartbeat. “I want to see you lose control, y/n.” As if to prove his point, he increased the pressure, rubbing firm circles around your sensitive nub, his thrusts becoming harsher, deeper, needier. Your back arched off the bed, a high-pitched whine tearing from your throat as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you. 

“Don't stop.” you begged, your voice a ragged whisper. 

A tidal wave of pleasure bubbled inside you, building with an intensity that was almost too much to contain. Every moment, every touch, sent it climbing higher, threatening to overflow and consume you completely. It was overwhelming in the best way—like you were teetering on the edge of something profound, a rush of warmth and light ready to break free. Your heart raced, your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but surrender to the sheer bliss of it all, letting it wash over you like a sunrise breaking through the darkness. For Theo, the pleasure wasn’t just in the moment—it was in you. Every expression of pleasure, every soft sound you made under him, every way you moved drew him in deeper, until he was utterly consumed. It bubbled inside him like a fire threatening to escape, an immense, overwhelming rush that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in so long. The way you looked at him, the trust in your eyes as he made love to you, made it all the more intense. His chest tightened, his breath catching as the sensation surged, flooding him with a kind of bliss he never thought he deserved but couldn’t bear to let go of. With a growl of primal satisfaction, Theo slammed into you one final time, grinding his pelvis against yours as he reached his peak. The sensation of his release triggered your own climax, your body seizing up as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name,not caring who would hear, your voice hoarse with ecstasy, as you clung to him desperately, your nails raking down his back. Theo collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving against yours, his forehead pressed to your shoulder. 

For a long while, you lay entwined, your hearts pounding in perfect sync, the rhythm of your breathing gradually steadying as the world around you faded into stillness. The only sound was the soft, shared cadence of your breaths, filling the quiet room with a soothing, unspoken connection. It was as though the world beyond these walls had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you suspended in this fragile, perfect moment.

Finally, Theo lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a look so full of tenderness it made your chest ache. There was no smirk, no guarded expression—just pure, unfiltered emotion, the kind that made you feel as though he was seeing straight through to the deepest parts of you. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight, hesitant even, as though he feared you might vanish if he held on too tightly.

“I missed you… I missed this.” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, as though the words themselves were sacred.

His gaze searched yours, desperate, almost pleading, as though he needed to know you felt the same. His words struck something deep within you, breaking open the dam you hadn’t even realised you’d built. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, grounding him as much as yourself.

“I missed you too.” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “More than I ever let myself admit.”

Theo closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling a shaky breath as though your words had lifted some unbearable weight from his chest. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze made your heart stutter. Slowly, he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, the closeness grounding you both in a way that felt unshakable.

“I’m not letting you go again.” he murmured, the words a vow, raw and unyielding. “Not this time.”

~~~

The soft golden light of morning spilled through the curtains, casting long, gentle streaks across the room. The quiet hum of the world waking up outside was barely audible, muffled by the stillness that lingered within these walls. You stirred slowly, the comforting warmth wrapped around you grounding you before you even opened your eyes. It took a moment for the memories of the previous night to settle, but when they did, your chest swelled with a mix of emotions—tenderness, relief, and something that felt a lot like hope.

Beside you, Theo was still, his breathing deep and even. You turned your head slightly, your gaze falling on him. His face was relaxed, his features softer in sleep, free from the guarded tension he so often wore. You watched him for a moment, taking in the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hand rested lightly on the bed between you, as if even in sleep, he didn’t want to be far from you.

It was strange—comforting, even—how natural this felt, as though the rift that had once separated you was a distant memory, something you both had decided, consciously or not, to leave in the past.For the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in your chest was gone, replaced by a quiet, steady warmth that spread through you like sunlight. You let out a soft sigh, the sound barely breaking the stillness, and closed your eyes again, savouring the moment for just a little while longer.

Eventually, you sat up slowly, careful not to wake Theo, and turned to look at him properly. You traced the lines of his jaw with your eyes, the faint shadow of stubble there, the soft curve of his lips. His lashes were long, darker than you’d remembered, and they brushed lightly against his skin. Leaning in slowly, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, your lips barely brushing his skin. He stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping him, but he didn’t wake.

“Sleep a little longer.” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as though afraid to disturb the fragile tranquillity of the moment.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, doing your best to keep your movements quiet. The floor was cool beneath your feet as you tiptoed across the room, gathering your scattered belongings and slipping into the oversized hoodie you had worn last night.

The manor was quiet as you made your way back to your own room, the only sounds the faint creaks of the wooden floorboards and the distant chirping of birds outside. Your heart raced with every step, half expecting someone to catch you in the hallway, though it seemed most of the house was still asleep.

When you finally reached your room, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the door for a moment to steady yourself. The memories of the night before rushed back in vivid detail, and you felt your cheeks flush as you hurriedly changed into fresh clothes.

By the time you made your way to the dining room for breakfast, the warm scent of coffee and pastries filled the air. The table was only partially occupied—Astoria and Draco sat close, whispering and smiling, while Blaise and Daphne were still nursing cups of tea, their expressions relaxed but tired.

You slid into a chair quietly, keeping your movements casual as you poured yourself some tea. You could feel their gazes on you, especially Astoria’s, her sharp eyes studying you with a hint of curiosity.

“Morning.” Blaise said, his voice smooth but tinged with amusement. “You’re up early.”

You shrugged, keeping your tone light. “Couldn’t sleep.” you lied, reaching for a slice of toast. “Figured I’d get a head start.”

Astoria raised a delicate brow, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?” she repeated, her tone light but teasing.

You avoided her gaze, focusing on spreading jam over your toast. “Something like that.” you said, hoping the flush in your cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

Draco smirked from his seat beside Astoria but said nothing, his gaze flickering briefly toward the doorway as though expecting someone else to join the table. You forced yourself to act as if nothing had happened, though the events of last night lingered in your chest, a secret you weren’t ready to share. As you sipped your tea, you couldn’t help but wonder how long Theo would sleep—and how long you could keep this new shift between you hidden.

The quiet hum of breakfast was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by Pansy’s unmistakable voice cutting through the air.

“Well, well.” she drawled, her tone teasing as she swept into the room with Mattheo trailing lazily behind her. “Looks like some of us managed to survive the night without too much trouble.”

Mattheo yawned loudly, ruffling his already messy hair as he flopped into a chair with all the grace of a toppled tower. “Speak for yourself.” he muttered, reaching immediately for the coffee. “I’m still half-dead.”

Pansy rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, sliding into the seat beside him with her usual flair. Her sharp gaze scanned the table, pausing briefly on you before moving on. You kept your expression neutral, biting into your toast to avoid meeting her eyes.

“Where’s Theo?” Mattheo mumbled, his voice muffled by the mug he was now sipping from.

Draco’s smirk deepened, his gaze flicking to you for the briefest moment before returning to his plate. “Probably still asleep.” he said casually, though the slight edge of amusement in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

Astoria hid a smile behind her teacup, while Daphne exchanged a knowing glance with Blaise. Blaise leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening as he lazily stirred his tea.

“Or recovering.” Blaise added, his tone light but unmistakably suggestive. “You know Theo—he likes to keep himself busy at night.”

You nearly choked on your tea, the cup clinking awkwardly against its saucer as you set it down a little too quickly. Your cheeks flushed a deep red, and you kept your eyes firmly on the table, refusing to look at anyone.

Astoria let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Really, Blaise?” she chided gently, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

“Just saying…” Blaise said with an exaggerated shrug, his gaze darting briefly to you before turning back to his tea.

Before you could recover, Mattheo yawned loudly once again, ruffling his messy hair as he leaned back in his chair. “Don’t blame the guy.” he drawled, his lips curling into a teasing grin. “Theo works hard when he’s… motivated.”

Pansy snorted, her sharp eyes darting between you and the others. “Motivated, huh?” she said, her tone dripping with mock innocence. Her gaze settled on you, her brow arching slightly. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Y/N?”

Your head shot up, your wide eyes meeting hers as your face burned hotter. “Of course not.” you stammered, but the unconvincing tone of your voice only seemed to amuse them more.

Draco chuckled, his smirk widening as he gestured with his fork. “Relax, Y/N.” he said smoothly. “They’re just teasing.”

Pansy leaned her chin on her hand, her smile sly. “Are we?” she mused, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You groaned inwardly, picking up your teacup again in a vain attempt to hide behind it. The weight of their teasing was almost unbearable, but even as you tried to brush it off, you couldn’t help but think of Theo and the events of the night before.

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and the unmistakable sound of Theo’s footsteps filled the room. He appeared in the doorway, his hair slightly tousled, his eyes heavy with sleep. His shirt was rumpled, and the faintest shadow of stubble clung to his jaw, making him look far more casual than usual.

You froze, your stomach flipping as his gaze swept across the table before landing on you. But unlike you, Theo looked entirely unbothered, even amused, by the attention.Without hesitation, he strode over to you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders as he leaned down, pressing lazy, sleep-warmed kisses along your neck. The brush of his lips sent a shiver racing through you, and your cheeks flushed as the entire table fell into stunned silence.

“Didn’t see you in bed this morning.” he murmured, his voice husky and teasing, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Missed waking up next to you.”

Your face burned hotter than the sun, and you heard the faint sound of stifled giggles around the table. You didn’t dare look up, knowing you’d find Pansy’s smirk and Draco’s raised brow.

Blaise, of course, couldn’t resist. “Well, well, Theo. Didn’t know you were such a romantic.” he quipped, his grin practically oozing mischief.

Theo straightened, his hands sliding off your shoulders as he fixed Blaise with a pointed look. “And I didn’t know you were so interested in my love life.” he retorted smoothly, his tone light but carrying a subtle edge that made Blaise hold his hands up in mock surrender.

“Fair enough.” Blaise said, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair.

Theo moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, taking a slow sip before glancing back at you. “Come on.” he said casually, tilting his head toward the door. “Join me for a cigarette. It’s too early to deal with this lot.”

The invitation was so nonchalant, so unapologetic, that you could only nod silently, sliding out of your chair as the others exchanged amused glances.

Pansy’s voice followed you as you headed for the door. “Don’t take too long, lovebirds!”

You ignored her, keeping your head down as you followed Theo out into the garden, your cheeks still burning. The cool morning air brushed against your skin, soothing the heat in your face, and for the first time that morning, you found yourself smiling faintly despite the chaos inside.

Theo led you to a quiet corner of the garden, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a practised flick of his lighter. You did the same, the faint orange glow of the cigarettes matching the warmth of the rising sun.

He leaned back against the stone wall, his gaze fixed on you with a sleepy fondness that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers brushing yours as he leaned in to kiss you. It was slow, unhurried, and achingly tender, his lips lingering on yours as if savouring every second.

The peaceful silence was broken by faint voices drifting from the direction of the house. You could just make out Astoria’s unmistakable tone, laced with triumph.

“Told you they’d end up back together.” she said smugly.

“Oh, shut up.” Daphne groaned. “I’ll get you your galleons after breakfast.”

Theo pulled back slightly, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “They’re such goons.” His voice was soft and teasing, the words accompanied by the faintest smirk.

You laughed quietly, your forehead pressing against his as you shook your head. “They really are.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, wrapped in the quiet morning air, the world around you fading into the background. Whatever came next, whatever teasing or chaos awaited inside, it didn’t matter. Right now, it was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always very much appreciated! ♡

© slytherinsmuse. please do not copy, claim, translate or steal any of my works as your own.

[celestie0]

hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

[bluedalahorse]

I feel like there’s some meaningful stuff here about Sara and August’s relationship, so I wanted to reblog and lift those up here! Sara has traditionally been unfairly slammed by the fandom, even though her actions were meaningfully different from August’s in season 2. And a lot of times saraugust is held up as this ontologically evil foil to wilmon, even though both pairings juxtapose the capacity to be sweet and loving with some pretty intense teenage flaws.

Personally, while I understand why they happen, I’ve always been a little wary of discussions of “is Sara a bad person/is August a bad person.” I understand why this framing works for some fans, but it doesn’t work for me. Mostly because a while back, Omar was talking in an interview, and he talked about Lisa’s writing philosophy being that there aren’t good and bad people in her stories, there are people in her stories who are capable of good and bad actions. Now, authorial intent can only go so far, I get that. But I do think this is a theme that underpins the series. I think they did a great job of showing Sara’s complexity and growth over the season. I do think there were some fumbles to August’s writing in season 3 that led a portion of the audience to believe he never changed, ever, over the course of the series. I think the show would have benefitted from him and Simon having a chance to do restorative work outside of their relationships with Wille. At the same time, I don’t think season 3 was without growth for August. @sflow-er’s post on the Fleabag parallel does a great job of breaking down August’s arc. I’m not saying any of this negates the harm August does—far from it—but I do think the show is inviting us to envision a better future for August where he grows and changes, especially in our fanworks.

And that’s what I want to talk about in this reblog: fanworks. It’s been a long time since people were acknowledging the saraugust nuance in season 2, and ultimately how fascinating the pairing is, but there’s still only 96 fics tagged Sara/August on AO3 and only a few are actually about them.

I think, what I’m sad about most when it comes to Young Royals fandom, is that there is no fanworks community around Sara and August the way there is for wilmon, at least on tumblr. There are individual people who are interested in their dynamic, and some of them create fanworks from time to time, and some of us reach out to one another and have meaningful and wonderful one-on-one conversations in our inboxes. But there’s very few reblog chains about them where people are just expressing fun headcanons, there’s very little circulating fanart, there’s some gifsets and edits but they don’t circulate as frequently, no fandom events or challenges themed around them, no following and cheering on of Malte and Frida’s careers, (to my knowledge) no epic multichapter saraugust fics we discuss together and swoon over and make starry eyes over.

To be clear: I don’t think I’d ever expect saragust to have the same size of following wilmon does. There are many factors that make wilmon more popular, first and foremost being that August does real legitimate harm and is annoying and kind of sucks. Like, hey! I get it! Not everyone is going to like him, and that’s perfectly okay. And then there’s the fact that not everyone who’s drawn to an m/m show is going to feel excited to ship a f/m pairing. As @crownedwille points out, fandoms sure can do some stuff when female characters are involved. Of course saraugust will get smaller numbers.

But as someone who’s been tracking the saraugust breadcrumbs in fandom for a while, and has been following their tag on AO3, what I’m noticing is not exactly a natural absence of interest in the pairing. It’s more like I see a lot of people who have an interest in the characters and the dynamics, but something about the way YR fandom interacts socially reinforces the notion that you keep your saraugust feelings to yourself. Or, for a while if you were expressing those feelings, you were encouraged to express them in ways that are full of apologies and disclaimers. When you’re spending all your time doing that, it becomes a lot harder to create fanworks. Like, even in the tags of this post, I see a lot of people saying they liked them or found them interesting or cute or they’re hooked in by the drama or whatever else! Clearly the enjoyers exist and are out there. I think the discourse (and the harassment of actors/writers/creative team on social media) has died down a lot since the finale and there’s more space to like the characters, but I also think that some of the patterns of fandom interaction that sprung up post-S2 have had a continued impact on how people express themselves.

And yes, it’s important to be mindful of the morally dubious sides of this pairing, but we can do that while creating space for people to openly enjoy it through fic and headcanons and edits and such the way that many people in the fandom openly enjoy wilmon, even if it’s a smaller group of us. (Heck, some people enjoy saraugust because of the moral dubiousness and that is part of a Valid Fandom Tradition of enjoying morally dubious pairings.)

As someone who’s currently feeling a little burned out on wilmon by itself and doesn’t really have a desire to read works centered on them, but who’s still in love with the broader YR world and its characters, especially my two favorite characters—I am desperate for a little bit less saraugust discourse and a little bit more joyous fannishness about them. I’m not entirely sure how to make that happen. I’ve been writing fic, blogging about the characters, creating ask games, posting pictures of the plushies, and also doing some other stuff behind the scenes. But I often don’t post or reblog as much as I could for fear of discourse returning, and I feel disconnected from fandom most of the time, even though I have some strong individual ties to individual people. (I also feel like I may have burned some bridges at times when I was upset.) It’s a bit of a sisyphean conundrum, isn’t it? I wish I could wave a magic wand and make more fanworks and community happen around this pairing in particular, but also around other pairings and characters on the show for the fans who want those other pairings and characters. I just wish there was a little more variety in the characters and pairings talked about.

Anyway, I don’t have any answers and it’s time for me to acquire groceries for the week, so. Blue out.

There's so much discourse around Sara and August. Whether they were good together or not. Whether they loved each other or not.

What we tend to overlook is the fact that they talked to each other. Enough that they knew each other.

He wanted someone to talk to and he thought about her. So he went to find her and he knew to find her in the stables. Then he immediately proved to her that he was someone "safe" by petting her horse. She misunderstood his invitation that evening but he didn't make her feel bad about it. We know she talked to him about the Felice Horse Selling Thing™️ because when she comes to say that Felice was officially selling the horse, he just said "I thought you already knew that" because she had already told him.

Sara talked to August. The same why August talked to Sara. He opened up about the drugs and why he used them. He opened up about being Wilhelm's back up. He opened up about his guilt and about feeling like a horrible person.

She talked to him about her horse and about Felice. Two things that she considers the most important in her life. She also opens up to him about wanting to fit in. Wanting to "be like him" meaning that she wanted to be like the Hillerska crowd.

They talked to each other.

So like, yes, they did horrible things. They are bad people. But they aren’t incapable of caring. And they aren't entirely self centered. That's what makes their individual betrayals even more heartbreaking. Because we know they're capable of caring and they made the choices they did anyway.

[moonlight-prose]

STRANGE ADDICTION

➻ 01. BEAUTIFUL DEATH

a/n: i have rewritten this chapter about two times just to get it right. i want it to feel like the show, but also i'm a perfectionist when it comes to posting in a new fandom. this story has been in my head since s1 dropped and well it feels great to finally put it somewhere. even if the love for silco has sorta died down. i've had the most fun writing this so i hope you enjoy!

summary: dinner with an old friend leads to revelations about your past. about whether you chose the right path - the future meant for you. or if time indeed stands still beyond what science and magic tells you.

word count: 4.5k+

pairing: silco x f!reader; viktor x f!reader (platonic)

warnings: not explicit, angst, friendships, flashbacks, arguing, hesitation to tell the truth, pining (not by reader), the haunting of past relationships.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

The sun beat down harder than ever before. A bright scorching ball of light that seemed intent on searing through the fabric of your gown. Although you weren't entirely opposed, given the weight of the material that clung to your skin.

It seemed that the sun favored topside more than anywhere else. You'd known this for a while, your eyes fixed on the horizon at each turning of the clock. Dusk assumed its duties for the day, bringing forth the moon that hid until the time was right to reveal herself. Flames licked across the sky and suddenly you were a child again. Stunned by the magnificence and beauty of something so normal.

When you were younger you held the belief that only those in the grand city would be able to witness this. To watch as sunset broke along brilliant blue before sinking below—away from the towers of the grand house.

Although the term house felt humble and dishonest given the lavish setting. Castle seemed like a better word. Or kingdom.

Piltover. The land of progress.

How ironic that just below the surface lay the vastness of a city that thrived on the opposite. You felt like royalty amidst the opulence around you. Someone who was crowned long ago by the people who deemed you worthy enough. Yet it wasn't that long ago that you were a young kid vying for a glimpse at a clear sky. Topside rarely accepted those that didn't belong; unsurprising but still a bitter disappointment.

How you managed to trick them—fool their wits—into allowing you access escaped you.

This felt too extravagant. So unlike the person you once knew. It felt fictional. A tale as old as time now finally bestowed upon someone like you.

"Unbelievable," you muttered, eyes wide at the brilliant orange that painted itself over pinks and yellows.

A voice echoed in the distance, someone calling your name, and with a sigh you were pulled away from the ambience of this view. You preferred a chance to stay here but you recognized the lilt of his voice, the familiar drawl of his words. With a sigh you let go of the balcony railing and turned towards the room you were staying in. His room. He offered and gave no room for an argument.

That didn't stop you from trying.

"Dinner is being planned," he announced, balancing his weight on the cane held in his tight grip.

"All this trouble isn't necessary." Pulling the chair by his bed close, you took the opposite one with a grin. "I'm not that important."

He huffed, long and loud enough to keep you quiet. "I don't see you often enough. Dinner is the least I can do."

"Viktor–" His hand went up before you could state your case—the argument ready to fly off the tip of your tongue.

"I've argued with you enough over the years to know when you will start." His smile is warm, an old piece of the past that still resides in the back of your mind.

"I call that an unfair advantage," you muttered.

"I would call it strategy."

"Strategy requires the mind of a politician," you joked. The words rolled out of your mouth with ease as you scrutinized the man before you.

He shrugged. "I've got politician friends."

"Right."

Over the years you often wondered where your paths might cross again. Where on the timeline of your lives Viktor would once more become your ally. You both found one another in your younger years—when things were simpler. The time in your life where you were starting to be recognized for your mind and him with his mind.

Two intellectuals forged in the fires of the Undercity. At one point in your life this might have felt humorous. Almost ironic.

Now you tried to grasp at what kept the two of you together. Especially since your step back away from the atmosphere of progress.

"I–"

"While you are here, would you mind—uh—looking over the research I have accumulated over the years of your absence?" The notebook he draws from the table beside him is crammed with scraps of paper. The binding was ready to burst at the seams. A sight that so utterly and undeniably the young man you met in the Undercity. "I trust your intelligence more than mine sometimes."

You could recall the hours spent pouring over books, each one filled with information you never thought you'd have the opportunity to learn. They brought the both of you closer to something that he felt would do the world some good. Knowledge was power in Piltover—you simply learned to utilize it for your own good. As a way to escape the past you tried your best to ignore.

Flipping to the first bookmarked page, you attempted to discern his writing. At times it was illegible, but you knew it better than yours. After years of looking at the same scratch marks and symbols, you were able to pick through Viktor's work with ease. Your heart stuttered at the research before you—the truth that rang silently in his hopeful expression.

"You want to find a power source?" you exclaimed, glancing up to see his eyes grow apprehensive.

Of course he would be wary about this. Every line scribbled, each night of hard work, all amounted to his life's legacy. The weight of his name was placed on loose pages and ink that bled between the compact journal. Running your finger over the foreign symbols etched onto each page and margin, you felt their power—the meaning behind each mark made.

"Viktor it's..." You wanted to call this emotion pride but the word felt minuscule given how much effort had been put into this. "Magnificent."

He grinned, settling back with a sigh of relief. "My partner Jayce—who you will meet tonight—has made a remarkable discovery."

"Remarkable is putting it lightly," you cut in, absentmindedly following the curve of the largest rune on the page, marking it in your memory.

Ducking his head, you watched his hands clasp together tightly, his thumb pressing against the pulse point of his wrist. "I have to do something...that will help."

That much you could understand.

"Ever since I've known you–" Shifting, you felt the skirt of your gown tug upwards—your leg exposed to the slight chill in the evening air. "You wanted to be remembered as a great scientist. Someone whose mind would be their legacy. I think you're closer to that than you think."

He scoffed. "I only told you that to stop the questions."

"About where you came from? Or something else."

The silence gave you enough of an answer. Explanations of his past came with little to no details. Merely stories that were fleeting, sinking beneath the depths long before you got a chance to figure them out entirely. He remained a mystery to you even now. Although...you couldn't say you were any different.

"Did you ever want that for yourself?" He leaned closer, his gaze attempting to pry beneath the depths of your mind.

"No," you breathed, catching one last glance at the sky. "It has always been better for my name to die with me."

"That I don't believe."

"No?" His eyes burned into the side of your face. A silent plea to finally let him in on the secret. To spill about the past you couldn't even accept for yourself.

Even as the years passed quicker than you could comprehend, Viktor never changed. Despite his age now surfacing across his face, he still felt familiar with each new slight wrinkle and faint mark that hadn't been there before. Beneath the fancy clothing and grim expression, he was still the boy you once knew. The ravenous scientist with a hunger to know more.

A man on a never ending journey for knowledge.

"You're brilliant," he said. "You always have been. I never quite understood why you chose to only be a..."

"A healer?" He nodded. "I didn't fit into Topside as smoothly as you did."

Whether he wished to admit it or not, the turmoil that tore through his body and mind was there. Hiding beneath the surface. Even as he refused to meet your gaze. Time may have intertwined you with him, but his dreams remained different—his hopes were vast enough to drag him away from the life you once knew.

Where he found the grandeur of a scientist working for someone brilliant, you found solace in your small shop surrounded with various concoctions and potions. A space that let you be the person you were always meant to be.

"You're talented enough to make a name for yourself. If you let me talk to the counsel–"

"No." The word sliced the air swiftly, silencing him with the sharp end of a whip.

He froze, drawing you out of the stupor your mind hastened to put you in. Upsetting him was the last thing you wanted, but you knew if he didn't stop now things would already be too late. Viktor had a tendency to escalate matters far more than necessary. It's why you were hesitant to even take his call—to give him leeway back into your life like this.

"Why?" he asked, his brows furrowed and eyes piercing through to the depths of your mind.

The answer lay at the back of your tongue—clear and ready to be pronounced with ease. But saying them out loud felt like a feat you'd never be able to manage.

"There are things in my past that are better left where they are," you replied, brushing off the way he looked at you.

A puzzle yet to be figured out. A math problem that held a solution to fix all that was broken.

But that was the thing...you couldn't be fixed. There remained no potion, no herbal remedy that could heal what had torn you to shreds. Who shattered you beyond repair.

Viktor left to pursue his Topside dreams—his pride in himself larger than anything you'd seen. Yet you remained behind. You stayed in the darkness of the Undercity with the promise to one day find him—to celebrate your dreams together. But that was before the battle plans, before you were recruited to help heal those that couldn't heal themselves. Before...him.

When it came down to it, you found yourself in a life far different from the one you dared to imagine with Viktor. The intention to follow him still existed somewhere as a fading dream that might never come true. But once you grew up, saw the world for how it was, you understood why you would never receive the same welcome he did.

You were a soldier first above it all and that was the one thing he would never know.

The secret you held in the confines of your heart.

"My past is the same as yours," he said. "We come from the same land. Surely if they accepted me, they will do the same for you."

You didn't fall in love with the devil.

The words that would never see the sunlight of Topside.

Reaching forward, you pat his knee in a gesture that offered a friendship despite all the secrets. Viktor would do what he wished; you couldn't stop him. That had always been the way of things since you were younger and so it would remain.

Merely two people who once offered to save one another from the bleak aspect of a future ready to eat you alive. Yet now there you were as adults. Sitting close enough to be friends yet miles a part from where you originally started.

You snapped the notebook shut and handed it back to him with a reluctant smile. The distaste of keeping him in the dark was pungent in your mouth, but this choice wasn't up to you to decide. It was always a mutual agreement between two people that were forced to be parted. He wouldn't speak about what happened and you'd do the same.

You were always meant to become a ghost of the Undercity and he a ghost of Topside.

Two fates that were never to intertwine again.

"Tell me," you said, moving to the still open balcony doors. "What's your partner Jayce like?"

He straightened in the chair, relief crossing his face at the realization that he hadn't offended you by pushing too far.

"You will like him."

"Oh I don't know about that," you drawled, a sly smile crossing your lips. "Don't you recall the night of the dinner party?"

He cringed as the memory of that disastrous debacle came to mind. You got into it with a certain doctor he befriended—a man with an ego large enough to choke the very air out of any room. The night ended with you unceremoniously chucking your drink into the man's face to save yourself the harsh act of slapping him. You refused to see Viktor for weeks—your own self worth having been burnt to the ground and defiled.

"I did not know he was going to insult you the way he had."

Scoffing, you leaned your back against the balcony railing. "You knew he wasn't good."

"Unfortunately that I did know." He stood on shaky legs, the clack of his cane against marble echoing off the walls as he joined you. "I can promise that Jayce is nothing like that."

"I'll determine that for myself." You sighed, glancing up at a darkened sky—the stars shimmering bright enough to rival the moon. "Besides, dinner is just us, right? Not a surprise interview to induct me into your hall of science. Because as flattered as I am–"

His laughter spilled over into your chest as he nudged your shoulder with his. "There will be no inducting. Not if you don't wish for it."

"Good." The clock across the room ticked away with expedited force—as if speeding up the flow of time to get you out of here. Yet you found yourself longing to stay, to remain in this small bubble. "Does he know who I am?"

"He knows what I've told him."

"All good I hope," you humored him, offering a placating smile that could be mistaken for charm. In the hopes that you'd make it through this night unscathed.

"There may have been a few stories." Swatting his shoulder, you ignored the shift he made towards you. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." You clutched the railing behind you until your knuckles hurt, your gut filled with the foreboding dread that came with treading the waters of your past. "I'm perfectly okay," you replied confidently.

Even if the words rang with the transparency of a lie.

Piltover at night held no comparison after witnessing the beauty of sunset. Yet after three glasses of wine and a dinner large enough to feed the village, you felt the thrill of excitement fill your chest at the thought of exploring parts you'd yet to see. Looping your arm around Viktor's you fell into step beside him—mere feet behind Jayce and a woman they introduced as Mel.

Of course, you knew who she was. Everyone in the city knew her name, but for the sake of a peaceful dinner void of any politics, you didn't make that fact obvious.

"It was a nice dinner," you said, the breeze off the water skimming the bare skin of your back.

"We should do it again." His voice remained steady, like a piece of home you never thought you'd get back. His eyes however...screamed something entirely different.

A divot in the road you weren't prepared for—one you didn't see yourself wanting.

"We should," you agreed, finding a spot against the railing. The blue of the ocean gleamed beneath the light of the moon. Truly Piltover at its finest. "Maybe next month?"

The irritated sigh slipped past his lips before he could reign it in, but that was all you needed to understand his intentions. You'd been afraid of this since you came to visit him the very first time. An execrable feeling weighed heavy in your stomach as time went on and his silence prevailed.

He stood beside you now with hope in his heart. The voices of Jayce and Mel faded into the background as they walked further away. And you were left with the friend you never wished to lose—the boy you longed to keep knowing.

"I haven't said—I should have said it already but–"

"Viktor," you interrupted, standing upright.

Suddenly the wine and the excessive amount of food didn't sound like a good idea after all. Your heart pounded against your chest, reverberating through your entire body—each nerve alight and waiting for the worst possible scenario to this outcome. He'd been your oldest friend, someone you counted on when you had no one else and the thought of ruining that left you feeling sick.

Each second he looked at you as if you held all the answers to what he pined for made your heart twist painfully.

With a shaky breath, you finally relented to the truth. "I can't."

"What do you mean?" His cheeks flushed vermilion as he fixed his gaze back to the water.

Shutting your eyes to collect your thoughts carefully, you sighed. "I know what you want me—us—to be and I can't...give that to you."

"Oh."

"I do care for you." Somehow the words echoed with hollow deceit, despite how true they felt in your heart.

"It's because of him."

You reared back, startled. "What?"

His eyes—plagued with sorrow deep enough to slice right through you—met yours waiting for a different answer. An explanation as to where your heart belonged. But you stood as still as stone—unable to form thoughts let alone coherent words. He ripped right down to the bone, pulled at your weak tendons and bit down on frayed nerves.

Yet he wasn't done.

"I'm not oblivious. When you finally came to Piltover you wouldn't tell me about what you did when I wasn't there. I only assumed you had feelings for someone. A man you didn't wish to speak about."

You exhaled slowly—the icy chill of relief swallowing you whole. "Oh...yes I...there was someone."

"Do you still love him?"

Glancing across the water, you glimpsed the bridge standing tall—a beacon of this city's hope for progress. But to your eyes it felt like a separation—a division between the two worlds of your life. One filled with enough pain to leave you staggering where you stool and other...a world of grandeur that overflowed with the option of peace.

At one point you had wanted to watch it burn. His betrayal tainted everything good about that place. A scar carved deep enough to leave an everlasting wound that never healed. You longed to forget it—to rid yourself of the memories he plagued—but you still knew one day...you'd stand upon that same ground again.

"I don't know," you breathed, the past clawing its way up your throat—shoving towards the very front of your mind.

BEFORE

The streets were overrun with people as they moved and flowed like the waves on a shore. You felt shoulders knock into you, exasperated glances thrown your way as you fumbled with the plants still gripped in your hands. They grew at the edge of the bridge—hidden in the shadows as a safeguard from the sun. Dirt packed itself beneath your fingernails, mud coating the thin fabric of your pants from where you dug.

"You should really have that looked at," you grumbled, shoving the plant into your satchel.

Garnering no response, you were left to get lost in your own thoughts. Whether or not he was actually in pain didn't concern you. Not when you had a job given by Vander who insisted you focus solely on healing rather than fighting. It's not as if you entirely disagreed with him—you were more than happy being a healer rather than a soldier—you simply couldn't figure how this would help in the long run.

What exactly were you supposed to do when people acted stubborn and brash?

"What are you writing?" he barked, stopping abruptly. You rammed into him with a sneer.

"Nothing that's of any concern to you." Shoving your pen and notebook into the bag, you watched as he huffed in response, turning away. "I'll tell you again since you seem to be hard of hearing. You should really have your wound–" He stopped, eyes flashing over his shoulder with a glare. “–looked at."

"You sure do talk a lot," he snipped.

"It's a gesture of kindness. You don't have to be an ass about it."

How did you manage to get stuck with this man? You were more than capable of sneaking around the border of Topside without anyone's help. Vander assigning you an escort seemed synonymous with the actions of an older brother being overly protective. Yet you weren't related in any way shape or form—you were simply someone who understood the need for change.

Arguing would get you nowhere and so you did your best to ignore his quick glances. Coming up with a correct judgment for what you found took precedence over the man in front of you.

The heat of the day seeped into your clothes—sticking to your exposed skin—the longer you trekked back. If it were possible to steal some time, you'd search for that small pool you and Viktor used to play at—just to submerge yourself in cold water. But with a guard at your side, you were left with only one option. Dreaming about weather cooler than this.

"You're walking too slow," he called over his shoulder.

The desperation for escape called to you, begged you to leave him behind and go somewhere quiet. But before you could sprint in the opposite direction, he turned. Ignoring him didn't seem to be a well thought out solution, but that never stopped you from trying. Even as he glared at you.

What little sunlight remained began to dip below the horizon—a sight you'd neve grow tired of. If only you had the chance to see it over the ocean with a clear sky above.

"You need that fixed before we return." Avoiding the incensed glare directed your way, you settled on the edge of a wall.

"What I need is for you to keep going. So I can go home."

"Listen—whoever you are—I know that when you return you're going to be questioned about why you're in pain. Either you let me patch up that wound or you get Vander. Your pick."

The arguing ceased with a defiant raise of your brows, lips curling into a sly grin that pinned him where he stood. There really was no other option than submission. What was a quick check before you were on your merry way. Much to your delight, he seemed to come to the same conclusion as he joined you on the wall, undoing his vest with an indignant sigh.

Silence filled the empty space between you. Slipping between the cracks and shadows that cast across his angular face. You'd seen him before on the edge of your vision, leaning against the bar with a book in his face—long fingers trailing the rim of his glass absentmindedly. Whether you liked it or not, the two of you differed.

Where you wanted to roam, he longed to be back making plans with Vander instead of trapped in the task of guard duty for a healer he'd never met before.

"Who shot you?" The glow of sunset illuminated the pale skin beneath his shirt—a long jagged scar etched into the skin threw you off for a moment as your fingers searched for blood.

The sharp wince in his face said you'd found it. "I couldn't see their face."

Nodding, you moved his hand to keep the fabric up and out of the way. A quick rummage in your bag for the salve you made earlier caught his attention—turquoise gleamed in your peripheral, prying you open with enough ease to jar you down to the bone.

"The bullet only scraped you. This should help close it up by the end of the week." You pressed the dark mixture along his wound, catching the subtle flinch he tried to smother. "Sorry."

"I'm fine," he mumbled in a whispered tone.

"I can fix it up properly when we return. Get you a real bandage to keep it from getting worse."

You nearly missed it. That slow imperceptible grin that curled at the edge of his lips. But your eyes latched onto it like a kid with candy, savoring the quick glimpse of something surreal. It threw you off balance, forced you to reckon with the thought of never knowing him before today.

Ethereal. Empyrean.

He sat before you a stranger with the eyes of a fond ally. A friend you had yet to be properly introduced to. It seemed he harbored the same thought—his mouth forming the question as if it fell right out of your head and into his lap.

"You're a friend of Vander?" Slipping his vest back on, you noticed he left it unbuttoned.

You found you preferred it that way.

"So are you. I've seen you...uh...with him. Around the bar you know."

The quiet echo of the water lapping at rocks and voices in the distance didn't feel bitter, but rather settled the nerves leaping beneath your skin. It was nice to sit there and watch the night sky show itself to the world once again. Eventually you'd be forced to return to a life that teemed with a clear understanding that hung over everyone's heads. There would be a fight. An inevitable battle for what you believed was right.

But for this transcendent moment you basked in the few moments of peace life allotted you.

The calm before the storm.

"I don't know your name," you admitted, turning your head slightly to catch his gaze already faced in your direction. "Vander never told me."

If he caught you in the middle of a blatant lie, he didn't call you on it. You could tell he saw right through you—the glint in his eyes shining brighter than moments before. This wasn't a clarification for Vander's sake or the battle. You wanted to know his name for yourself. A small token of the man you may never interact with again save for tonight.

After a moment his voice came with a soft breath of air. "Silco."

Teeth dug into your lip to keep the blooming smile at bay. "Silco," you said under your breath.

He latched onto it, dug his fingers into the tangible feeling they created in his chest, and felt a smile pulling wider at his own mouth. You said it again, unable to stop yourself as a thrill of excitement fluttered at the base of your stomach. So simple, so smooth off the tip of your tongue. Yet filled with enough power to stir your chest with a feeling you wished to inspect further.

The lilt of it hung in the air as you turned back to the sky with a satisfied hum, relishing in the time you had left with him at your side.

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #11: MACHINE LOVE

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was the title track, My Darling, My Companion, which means today is the final track on the album - a song about the truths that lay in hiding within artifice, and a computer falling in love - Machine Love!

Before we get started on this particularly long closeup - I'll be doing a follow-up post after this one, answering various miscellaneous questions I've gotten over the course of writing these! If you've got anything you wanna hear more from me about, album-related or otherwise, feel free to reply to this post or send me an ask! It may very well end up part of the bonus closeup :~)

---

Let's circle back to the very first track, Dyad.

In that track's closeup, I mentioned the main sonic touchstones of this release relative to my previous ones being guitars and vocal synths. The whole guitar rock thing I think I've gone into detail enough about, what with all the inspirations I've rattled off in other posts, but there likely is still a burning question for some long-time listeners.

Why vocal synths? Why am I not singing on like half of this album? I thought you were a singer, Jamie Paige, so what is this Hatsune Miku robot Vocaloid crap?

Truth be told, the Vocaloid scene and community has always been a massive source of inspiration for me. So much of my favorite music ever, music that inspires me or touches my heart or makes me go apeshit, has been sung by synthesized vocalists in a language I don't even speak. I grew up with it, and it's grown up with me - music just as intricate, mind-boggling, twisted, fun, and ridiculously creative is being put out every single day by vocal synth producers, and nowadays it's coming from English speaking musicians in droves!

Before this year began, I'd made at least one major contribution to the culture, but in spite of my genuine adoration of everything vocal synth related, I felt like I was just looking in from the other side. Caught between worlds, existing outside of any communities, simply gesturing vaguely towards what I wanted to do.

But I wanted more! I wanted to make the same kinds of things that stirred my heart and made me want to write! I wanted to sing with those same voices! I wanted it to be true - to be like you!

---

I won't lie to you and tell you Kasane Teto has always been my favorite vocal synth. That title used to go to GUMI, and in general, I wasn't particularly attached to any UTAU voicebanks as a younger vocal synth fan. (Nowadays, I genuinely open up OpenUTAU just as much as SynthV because I've fallen deeply in love with Adachi Rei, but that's a story for my next album.) Obviously, I knew of Teto, and found her presence in things like Triple Baka delightful, but for the most part, she was mostly something of an oddity, a wayward piece of vocal synth history that had her Fans like any other.

However, there was one Teto song I've been inexplicably attached to since the moment I first heard it - Song of the Eared Robot, by nwp8861. I was introduced via this particular cover, which I love, but I quickly gravitated to the original. Something about the warbly, childish nature of her very first voicebank, the ambitiously orchestrated and unabashedly digital instrumental, the lyrics referencing fundamental frequencies and Markov chains and compiling code all just spoke to me!

That song stuck with me, laying in a part of my heart that had been collecting dust, all the way to April of 2023.

Now, yes, Teto wasn't always my favorite, and I had other vocal synths I was attached to, but I don't live under a rock, and I still understood how monumental the announcement of Kasane Teto's Synth V voicebank was - to the point that I interrupted a call full of FFXIV-playing friends who knew barely anything about vocal synths and gave them an impromptu TED talk because I was so excited.

(An excerpt of a summary of that night's events, written the morning after. i was up my own ass a little bit but in my defense Kasane Teto had just been announced for Synthesizer V)

I was watching, in real time, a dream made manifest. It's literally one of the Bits with Teto! That she'd be a Vocaloid one day too! And here she was, on the fan favorite engine, sounding genuinely fucking incredible. Especially in hindsight, it's such a beautiful and perfect twist of fate for her.

I saw myself in her. A weird little outcast, explosively reborn and thrust straight into a community's open arms with love. I wanted it to be true - To be like that, too.

It didn't fully hit until later, hearing another cover of a song I'd almost forgotten.

Machine Love, my love letter to the entire world of unbridled creativity and artistry surrounding vocal synths filtered through one sentimental little song, was fully written by the start of May, maybe 4 days after I had gotten my hands on Teto SV and long before a certain compilation album was even a glint in my eye.

If you haven't heard DAEMON/DOLL yet, you really, really, really should go listen to it - yes, I mastered this album, many of my friends and collaborators are featured, and I have two entire songs on it, but I genuinely mean it when I say I believe it's some of the best fucking music that's come out this year in general. In many respects, it also feels like a companion (hah) to Constant Companions.

I had finished writing Machine Love by this point, but it was working on this album in its entirety - discovering artists like Anh Duy, Eggtan, and beat_shobon through it, and hearing everyone in top form making this twin-drilled chimera fucker sing her heart out - that not only made me confident in my decision to go down this artistic path, but that made me fall completely in love with Kasane Teto. And honestly, how could I not? She feels like a microcosm of everything that makes vocal synths so special, this community of creatives all leaving their marks and touchstones along the trail of a great big shared folk mythos. Yeah, maybe the folk hero we're all collectively mythologizing is an anime girl, but yknow maybe Odysseus could take some branding cues from hatsune miku idfk

Basically, even if he says he wants to kill me, I owe fucking everything to rice for inviting me to work on DAEMON/DOLL.

---

On that note, my vision for Machine Love's MV was pretty clear from the beginning.

the actual factual setup for the above shot, which was done entirely in-camera with my laptop, a tv, and two video files manually synced using VLC

The fundamental idea was always there - live-action shots of animation playing back on various screens, edited together to feel somewhat seamless. However, I really struggled with what exactly was going to be on said screens for a while; Big commissions were very far out of my budget, but I knew this song needed something grandiose.

Ultimately, what I arrived at was exactly the kind of scrappy, DIY bullshit it was always meant to be.

I asked my Twitter mutuals for help. And spent a couple months in Final Cut Pro and Apple Motion hell turning all the Teto art I got into a bunch of tiny little mini MVs, some of them parodying real vocal synth MVs, some of simply just evocative of vocal synth MVs, all of them painstakingly edited by yours truly and filmed with the help of some friends over the next couple months across two states and many more cities just to be painstakingly edited and synced up again by yours truly.

THE NEXT MV I DO WILL BE SMALLER IN SCOPE

---

And with that, I believe that's the album!

There's a reason it ends with Machine Love, and not with the title track. I do think that in some respects My Darling, My Companion would have made a better closer, but that song only really resolves one of the thematic strands running through the album.

There isn't really a definitive answer to the specific question "Baby, do you know what you wanna hear?", but it evokes a theme running through the entire album - wanting something, knowing that you want something, and simply needing to find the courage to do it or say it or be it. My Darling, My Companion is in many ways a declaration of intent, an acceptance of what needs to happen, but Machine Love, to me, is that action being done. The words being said!

And now, if I may give this a somewhat selfish tint - with the explosive response my works from this album have gotten, my contributions to things like DAEMON/DOLL and Flavor Foley, the collaborations I've done and that I still have in the pipeline, the friends I've made and the community I've found a spot for myself in, and the newfound voices that I can lay my heart bare with -

Well, shit, I know what I wanna hear, and I've gotten to hear it. I'm a vocaloP. It's real!

Thank you all so goddamn much for reading and listening. I'll see you back here either tomorrow or Monday for the bonus AMA post thing!! Make art and be gay, motherfuckers.

❤️💚

[ganxiously]

This is the part of the helicopter crash fic I started writing today. I don't know if I'm going to post it to ao3 but I did want to share it here. Now, this first update is angst so read at your own risk, but it will be a happy ending, I promise. This is Tommy's pov and I'll be back with Buck's side of things and the aftermath as soon as I have finished writing them —

The silence is stark in the aftermath and Tommy’s ears ring like they are still expecting the screech of the altitude alarms or the roar of metal crashing into rocks and trees. He’s not sure what happened, one moment he was flying his helo back to Harbour and the next, the altitude alarms started going off one by one. He had tried to fix it, tried to pull the bird up even as it became amply clear that nothing was working. They had dropped fast, swinging this side and that with the wind and then his tail had hit the cliffside, sending him and his medic rolling down the mountain in a 30-tonne metal can. He doesn’t know what happened to her, Amy, a new recruit with a penchant for keeping to herself. That’s why they worked together so well, a good thing until it led them here.

“Amy?”, he manages to ask, his voice coming out hoarse. “Medic Garcia?”

There is nothing. Not even the sound of feeble breaths. Tommy swallows the burgeoning feeling of grief and panic and tries to think of a way out. It’s dead of the night, the scenery outside the broken glass of his wind-screen pitch black, the flickering lights of the city not even visible from where he’s landed. He tries to move himself and then immediately freezes as the pain threatens to take away his consciousness. 

This is bad, he thinks. I don’t know how to get out of this one.

He is still strapped into his harness and beneath that, his flight suit is soaked with blood. It feels tacky and slippery against his skin, enough of it that he knows wherever it’s coming from, it’s not good news. It’s not survivable. His legs are pinned and he’s pretty sure the wet feeling around his eyes is blood. His ribs hurt and when he tries to move his hands, his shoulders refuse to bear the weight.

Oh, I am definitely not getting out of this one.

The realisation hits like G during a rapid climb and for the first time in long while, Tommy’s scared. He is terrified, as terrified as he hasn’t been since he was a wet-behind-his-ears boy seeing war for the first time. He thinks his hands would shake if he could move them that fast, his breath would stutter if it already wasn’t, wheezing past the damage, past the blood and tickling at his lips.  He doesn’t want to die like this, the thought occurs to him. He doesn’t want to die at all. He wants to turn back time and return to those scant months when he had been, for once, truly happy. He wants . . . he wants Evan. Beside him, holding his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on Tommy’s palm as he talks about anything and everything that comes to his mind.

Maybe that is the thing about impending death. Its finality, its loneliness puts things into perspective really fast. When he had all the time in the world, he had faltered, he had a thousand and one excuses ready as to why it was a bad idea. Now that Tommy’s out of time, there is not one that seems to hold up to reason. He wants Evan, he loves Evan and he should have told him that when he still had the chance. He should have spent every second he had left loving him.

He somehow manages to take his phone out of his pocket, surprised to see that it’s still mostly intact, except for the one thin crack down the middle. He thumbs it open and there he is, brushed golden in the sun and laughing at something Tommy had said. It’s a damn shame he can’t remember anymore what that something had been. There’s no cell service on his phone, which is bad but it also relieves him. He doesn’t have to make a 911 call, only to tell them they are already too late and like this, he won’t give in to the urge to hear Evan’s voice one last time.

He opens their message thread like he has done so many times these past couple of weeks, typing and deleting messages that never seem to be able to convey his complicated thoughts. He clicks on the typing bar, watches the keyboard pop up and then just keeps on staring, looking at the bloody fingerprint on his screen as he tries to think of what to write. What last words do you text your ex-boyfriend who you broke up with? That I’m sorry and I think I’m an even bigger asshole than you probably think I am?

The pain in his body notches up, so spread out that he barely knows where it originates from and he grits his teeth with an effort to keep himself from screaming. Eventually, it passes and Tommy takes the opportunity to click on the voice message button to the right.

“Buck.”

He hates that name on his tongue. 

“Evan.”, he starts and then stops again because it still doesn’t feel enough. It doesn’t feel like it encapsulates everything Tommy associates with that name — the warmth, the safety, the incredulous how is he real? and the helpless adoration that he just can’t seem to keep at bay no matter how much he tries. So, he gives it one more shot, “Evan. My Evan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about a million things.”

A cough stops him, the movement jostling him enough that pain rips through him anew and he is left gasping and sobbing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay away. I’m sorry I didn’t leave earlier and I’m sorry I left when I did . . . I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He swallows the blood in his mouth or at least, he tries to but all of it comes out with the next cough.

“I should have stuck around. I should have stayed and I should have loved you as long as you let me. I should . . . I should have told you I love you. Even—even if you don’t and that’s okay. You should— you shouldn’t love someone like me but that was no reason to not tell you I did. I just . . . I should have loved you as hard as I could while I still had the chance, Evan. You, at least, deserved that.”

He’s getting colder by the second and the part of his brain that still works, tells him that he is going into shock. Tommy’s running out of time and he’s running out of time fast.

“I don’t want to die.”, he manages to say through the sobs racking through his throat. He thinks he should feel pain but there isn’t anything beyond numbness anymore, “I don’t want to die and I don’t want to go through death alone. I want you . . .”

No, but that’s not right, is it? He doesn’t want Evan in this mess. Evan doesn’t deserve to get hurt again just to accompany Tommy in his last moments. He should be far away, happy, healthy and at peace. Maybe it is better that they broke up. If this was always supposed to be the end, it is surely better that Evan no doubt hates Tommy a little bit now. Maybe, if he’s lucky, Evan will leave a flower on his grave one day.

“I really wanted to be your last, you know?”, he finally says after a minute of silence, the words spilling out almost conversationally, long after he thought he’s run out of things to say. “But more than that, I wanted you to be my last and I’m happy that I got it, even if it’s not in the way I wanted it to be.”

And it's so fucking typical of him, isn’t it? He is being so selfish right now, ruining Evan’s life like this just so he can get some things off his chest. And he knows Evan, he knows what this message will do to him. Evan will go through life with the burden of Tommy’s regret on his shoulders and he hates how tempting that thought is, that if not in his heart, Tommy’s existence will at least have a place in the scars he carries for the rest of his life.

Here lies Tommy Kinard. He’s the bastard that broke my heart once upon a time.

But no, he can’t do that to Evan. He’s been selfish when he kissed Evan the first time, when they decided to give it a second try and when he hurt Evan to protect himself. He’s been selfish every moment that he managed to steal in between.

“Nevermind.”, he breathes out, smiling through the blood that’s threatening to choke him. “Nevermind, Evan. You— you don’t need to know all that. You should forget me. Forget there was ever a Tommy Kinard who loved you. Live a happy life and maybe . . . maybe in our next one, I’ll get to keep you. I’ll delete this now. I would have deleted myself out of your life too if I could’ve but this will have to do. I’m really outta time here, kid.”

He tries to blink away the blind spots around the edges of his vision but he’s fading fast. He fights against the unmoored feeling that is taking over, tries to swipe his screen in hopes of deleting the message but his hands are too slick and too weak to do anything anymore. The phone slips from his grasp and falls with a thunk somewhere near his feet, not that it matters. Not when he can barely remember what he was doing with the phone in the first place. Something to do with Evan. Maybe.

He huffs at his uselessness.

“Evan.”, his lips shape the word with care even though his voice doesn’t quite manage to colour it fully but it’s enough. It’s enough to have that be the last thing he speaks, to be the last thing he thinks about. The name washes away the cold like dawning sunrise on a crisp winter morning and Tommy is at peace, he is content.

“Tommy?”

That’s Evan’s voice. He has to go. He has to answer. He has to—