#ask me about Cars (2019) even if you’d like

[abelllia]

Idk if anyone’d like to ask me stuff but if you’d like, the ask box is always open! :DD

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 20 - Backstreet's Back - All Right!

Why this sat in the drafts for so long, I do not know so I apologize to everyone! I've been super busy with college and haven't had time to write much...but here we are

Today was an ABSOLUTE fever dream and we all need a little somethin somethin. So I present to you - the backstreet boys (formula 1 edition)

RACES SKIPPED ARE CANADA AND SPAIN (side note - Arthur hasn't been able to be at a race since Monaco)

Haven't been able to say this in a while but I hope you enjoy! Remember that comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!! Love you all :D

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

You had gotten to the paddock super early once again. But that was only because Lando and Oscar has asked you to hang out, and you’d never skip out on some good times with your papaya friends. Andrea loved you and often let you sit in his office if you were bored. Actually, all of the team principals seemed to do that. 

Even Toto, which was weird considering you stole on of his driver’s car with his other driver. 

Like always, you found yourself killing some time by playing Subway Surfers. You were about to get a new high score when two shadows covered your screen, making your character get arrested. 

“Hey, you made me lose my score!” 

You were about to tear them a new one, but your face had a shocked look once you finally pointed your head up. 

“What the f-!” 

“Has anyone seen the kid?” was a question that Max did not imagine that he’d hear first thing in the morning when he arrived on Sunday. 

His eyes glanced to the corner that you were almost always in, listening to music. But, the corner was void of any rookie teammate. He looked toward Christian, who asked the initial question. 

“Have you checked her driver’s room?” 

The Brit sighed, “We checked her room, your room, hospitality, and even the Ferrari garage, Williams garage, and McLaren garage. No one has seen her, yet the log says that she’s already here because she tapped in at the entrance.” 

Well, Max was stumped. And he knew why Christian was wanting to see you. They were finally in the Red Bull Ring, the home race for the entire team. It was a big deal, and Christian didn’t want you to get overwhelmed. There was a lot on their shoulders. Charles had pole, but Max was right behind him. Charles was always strong in the Red Bull Ring, almost winning in 2019 and then winning in 2022. The Ferraris had done well the last two races, and you two needed to hold them off. Thankfully, you were right behind Max in P3, but Carlos was behind you in P4. A Ferrari sandwich if you will. 

Everyone was kind of counting on the both of you for a Red Bull 1-2. 

“Have you seen Vito or Mitch?” 

“We’re right here.”

The Dutchman turned around to see your race engineer and manager, but you were nowhere to be found. He opened his mouth to say something but Vito held out a hand. 

“Yes, we’ve already tried to call her and Arthur. Both phones went to voicemail.” 

“Oh god.” Max shivered. If you weren’t picking up, and your boyfriend wasn’t picking up. Well, he didn’t want to imagine what you were up to. Just as he was about to suggest looking in the garages again, Lando popped his head in. 

“Have any of you seen Bug? She was supposed to meet up with me and Oscar earlier and she never showed up!” the curly-haired Brit whined. 

Now, that had Max even more worried. You never skipped hanging out with your favorite Brit (after Christian) or Aussie. Before he was about to start getting a search party together, Mitch suddenly made a weird face. 

“Do any of you hear that?” 

The five went silent to try to hear whatever Mitch had heard. 

Lando’s face scrunched. “Sounds like the Backstreet Boys?” 

The group quickly walked over to the opening and didn’t know whether to be relived or just upright confused. 

Because there you were, holding a giant boombox (God only knows where you got that) with sunglasses on, with Arthur to your right and one Ollie Bearman to your left. The soundtrack was indeed Backstreet Boys, namely the 1997 hit song “Everybody.” 

As Max learned at Vegas, you definitely knew how to make an entrance. By now, most of the drivers had walked out of their garages to see the commotion. 

And much to Max’s surprise, Nico Rosberg, Mark Webber, and Jensen Button walked up to the three of you, giant smiles on their faces. The song had ended a bit ago, and you handed the now silent boombox back to the German. The Australian of the group gave both Ollie and Arthur pretty big hugs. 

“Well, Oscar lost his grid dad,” Lando said, earning a hit from said Aussie. 

“Hey! He was never my grid dad in the first place.” 

The now group of six made their way to the giant group of drivers, including but not limited to: Max, Lando, Charles, Carlos, Logan, Lewis, George, and Oscar (in no particular order). Arthur’s hand was behind your back as you enthusiastically talked to the very tall British brunet dressed in Ferrari red. 

“I cannot believe that you come here, apparently to see me, and say that you need to be in the Ferrari garage! Arthur’s even going to be in the Red Bull one!” they heard you whine as the group got closer. 

Ollie rolled his eyes. “That’s only because he’s your boy-oof. You did NOT have to hit me.” He glared down at you as he rubbed his side. 

“Yes I did.” Your arms crossed as you finally stopped in front of the giant group, who were all staring at you. “Hey guys, what’s up?” 

Lando mirrored your stance, even popping his hip out. “What’s up?” he jokingly mocking. “We were supposed to go to breakfast?” He pointed between him and Oscar. 

A look of realization glossed over your face as you looked at the papaya drivers. 

“Oooohhhh, yeah. Sorry. Uh, their fault?” You pointed at Ollie and Arthur, who both looked betrayed. 

“Our fault?” Ollie squawked. “You were the one who dragged us to breakfast!” 

“You had breakfast?” 

“Yes Lando, I had breakfast.” 

The younger Monegasque silenced you. “The big boys are talking. And then you dragged us to find Nico because you thought  he had a boombox.” 

“The big boys? Seriously Thur? I can take you any day.” You glared up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked down at you, getting in your face to really show the height difference. 

That’s it.

You suddenly jumped on him, bring him to the floor. The Max and Charles jumped into action, trying to get you separated. Ollie just watched with a giant grin on his face, laughing at the two of you. 

“Ollie, kindly shut up?” 

“Yes mom.”

The two of you were separated quickly, because you really didn’t have much malice toward your boyfriend. 

“I totally won.” 

“Kid, you lost horribly.” 

“Max, has anyone ever told you that you don’t have to say everything that comes to your mind?” 

Charles, Lewis, Lando, Oscar, Logan, and George all nodded in agreement while Max stared at them with wide eyes. 

“You all agree?!” 

“Can I have my drivers back please?!” Christian suddenly yelled, making everyone look at him. 

“Please take her. She’s rabid.” Arthur pushed you forward, making you take a swing at him (that he was ready for and dodged rather easily). 

You stuck your tongue out at him, before giving Ollie a hug and gently guiding him to Charles. 

Your finger pointed at the red-clad driver. “Take care of my son please, even if you are the enemy. He likes his sandwiches without the crust and needs a nap with his blanket in 5 hours.” 

“Gosse?”

“Aw you brought my blanket?” 

Ollie’s face flushed red as he realized everyone’s eyes were on him. Charles just looked worried as though someone just handed him an actual child and told him “good luck.” 

You turned to follow your team principal, who was muttering something about you giving him even more gray hairs every weekend. “By Ollie! Have fun!” 

The parade went by smoothly. You laughed a lot when Nico brought the boombox to the interviews. He had a lot of questions for you and Max, since it was the team race today, which made your anxiety skyrocket just a bit.

You and Arthur were able to have just a few minutes of alone time back in your driver’s room. 

Because this was a surprise race, Arthur didn’t have to work or be with his brother. So, he was all yours for the entirety of Sunday. However, your excitement didn’t last long as he told you that he had to go back to Switzerland for more testing right after. 

You sighed as you pressed your head against his chest, his arms around you. “If I had known that you’d be gone so much, I wouldn’t have called Seb and just have kept you as my WAG.” 

Arthur sadly smiled down at you. “I know chéri, but I like testing. It gives me a purpose.” 

Another sigh escaped your lips as you finally met his gaze. He cooed as he saw tears forming in your eyes. 

“What is wrong mon fille jolie?” 

You let a few tears escape, but they didn’t get very far as Arthur wiped them off as quickly as they fell. 

“I just miss you and I miss home,” you confessed, hiding your face in his neck as you stepped closer. Arthur gently brought you over to the couch and readjusted you so that you were just lying on his front. 

His hands gently ran through your hair. He knew you needed to be in the car soon, but he wouldn’t let you go without trying to console you. 

You continued, “And I know that we just had summer break not too long ago, but it wasn’t enough.” 

Arthur just listened, know you needed to spill to feel better. 

“Everyone is counting on me to bring in a 1-2 since it’s the home race. But the last two races weren’t the best. I barely got any points.” You muttered the last part, “I’m never going to win a race by now.” 

“Hey, none of that.” Arthur lifted your face so that you could look in his eyes. His were filled with determination. “Do you know how amazing you are? You podiumed at your first race and are fourth in the championship. As a rookie! You are incredible. Parfois j’aimerais que tu te voies comme je te vois.” (translation: Sometimes I wish you saw yourself as I see you.)

You huffed. “I still can’t understand you, but I’m hoping that was a compliment.” 

“It was.” 

He moved his head down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. At the contact, a sigh expelled from your nose. 

It felt so good to be so loved. 

If someone was to write a poem, about how Arthur looked at you and how you looked at Arthur, their pens would be void of ink and the stars would be shadowed by their words. 

The two of you were so lost in each other that a knock at the door scared you both and ended up with you on the floor. 

Mitch poked her head in before shaking it slightly. 

“I don’t even want to know what you were up to, but Y/n needs to get in the car.” 

You quickly stood, with Arthur’s help, and grabbed your helmet, making your way back into the garage. Like clockwork, the Monegasque took your headpiece and gently made sure that it was safely secure. And, with a kiss on the “forehead,” he sent you off. He could tell that you didn’t really want to get in the car. Which was understandable. It wasn’t very often that Arthur saw you not want to drive. But he knew that you were going to be amazing today. 

Starting Grid: 

Charles Leclerc 

Max Verstappen 

Y/n L/n 

Carlos Sainz 

Oscar Piastri 

Pierre Gasly 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Lewis Hamilton 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Alex Albon 

Lando Norris 

Logan Sargeant 

Valtteri Bottas 

Fernando Alonso 

George Russell 

Lance Stroll 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

Esteban Ocon 

Nico Hulkenberg 

You rolled your tires as you waited for the lights to go out. They were tense, but that helped you be ready to press the accelerator. If you weren’t tense, you knew there’d be something wrong. If you felt high-strung outside of the car, inside was 10 times worse. 

All the pressure, all the doubts, all the hopes and dreams – were on your shoulders. 

And you weren’t going to let them down. 

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the 2024 Austrian Grand Prix! Charles Leclerc has a strong start in the initial few seconds, but Max Verstappen seems to be on a mission to turn this into a win. Verstappen gets down the inside and pushes Leclerc a bit wide to gain a position on the pole sitter. We both know that he will probably start to bolt in just a few corners. 

“His rookie teammate Y/n L/n seems to also have the upper hand against the other Ferrari of Carlos Sainz as she seems to do what she does best – go around the outside on that initial turn 1 and somehow make it out in front. 

“Now the track is a bit rainy, and we saw what happened the last time that happened, so we’ll keep an eye on our Red Bull number 2.” 

You felt water droplets fall into your visor as you were picking up speed on the Ferrari in front of you. You knew that this “dirty air” would be much worse than regular, since it was contaminated with water as well. 

You pressed your radio button when it seemed almost impossible to catch up to the red car. The rain had also stopped so your intermediates were getting dangerous to drive with. 

“Mitch what is the plan because I cannot catch up to Leclerc in these conditions.” 

“Do you think you can go the rest of the way in mediums?” 

You thought for a moment. You couldn’t go the rest of the way on softs, as they would degrade too quickly. And hards took forever to warm up. 

“Yeah. I can do that.” 

“Then box ahead of Max. You’ll come out right behind him. So, he’ll give you a tow and then when he boxes, you’ll do the same. Max has priority.” 

“Copy.” 

You quickly pitted the next lap. The Red Bull team seemed to be on fire as you were in and out in a few seconds. You didn’t know, but they somehow set the record for a new pit stop – 1.789 seconds. 

The crowd got excited as you suddenly appeared behind Max and in front of the number sixteen car. 

With Max in front of you, the tow was very helpful as you started to build bigger gap. You guessed that Ferrari must have messed up Charles’s pit stop as Lando’s papaya car was now behind you, instead of Charles. 

You felt bad, but that’s on his team. 

However, Lando was on much fresher tyres that you were, and he was gaining in the last ten laps of the race. You really tried to not let him overtake, but he did…with five laps to go.

Mitch suddenly came over the radio. “Don’t push it like last time. We don’t need another Suzuka. Third place will be just fine.” 

But you weren’t having any of that. You never responded and just kept at the pace you were going, trying to get the maximum out of the car. 

You hadn’t noticed, but everyone else in the garages could see that you were surprisingly gaining on Lando. Ollie watched as you were making qualifying times per lap. The crew was holding on to each other, cheering you on. With each tenth gained, the noise grew louder. 

You saw the last lap flag, and you knew you had to keep your elbows out. 

“And we are coming up on the last lap and L/n has somehow made it back into Norris’s DRS. She tried to get around the outside on the first turn, but is not successful. Yet, she’s keeping herself well in the DRS and doesn’t make try to make a move on the straights. 

“Here comes the last real corner of the circuit and only a small straight for an overtake. 

“SHE’S GOING FOR IT!

“IT’S A PHOTO FINISH…DO WE HAVE RESULTS?” 

You slowed down your car as you drove around for the cool down lap. Your finger was jamming the radio button. 

“Do we have it!?” 

Arthur was biting his fingernails as everyone in the garage was waiting for the results. The mechanics were happy with another P1 finish from Max, but they were on baited breath to see if you had almost done the impossible and finished in a 1-2 sequence. A steward walked over to the pit wall and gave Christian the paper with the results.

A giant smile crossed his face as he was the one to give you the news. 

“Congrats kid. It’s a 1-2 finish.” 

Race Results 

Max Verstappen – 25 points 

Y/n L/n – 18 points 

Lando Norris – 15 points 

Charles Leclerc – 12 points 

Carlos Sainz – 11 points 

Pierre Gasly + fastest lap – 9 points  

Oscar Piastri – 6 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 4 points 

Yuki Tsunoda – 2 points  

Alex Albon – 1 point 

Logan Sargeant 

George Russell 

Lance Stroll 

Fernando Alonso 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Kevin Magnussen 

Zhou Guanyu 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 244 points 

Charles Leclerc – 201 points 

Y/n L/n – 124 points 

Lando Norris – 115 points 

Carlos Sainz – 91 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 70 points 

Oscar Piastri – 68 points 

Alex Albon – 39 points 

George Russell – 36 points

Fernando Alonso – 35 points 

Logan Sargeant – 29 points  

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points 

Pierre Gasly – 12 points 

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Kevin Magnussen 

Zhou Guanyu 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings 

Red Bull – 383 points 

Ferrari – 292 points 

McLaren – 194 points 

Mercedes – 106 points 

Aston Martin – 50 points 

Williams – 41 points 

Alpha Tauri – 31 points 

Alpine – 12 points 

Alpha Romeo 

Haas 

“OH YEAH BABY. LET’S GO!” you yelled over your radio. The crew in the garage stood up from their seats and began to hug each other. 

“Oh man, that was, wow! Can’t believe that. Great job everyone. Is this what winning feels like?” you asked as you took the cooldown lap, yet there was no answer. Everyone was too busy watching that final overtake and celebrating about it. 

Arthur just watched your car take a lap on the screen. He softly whispered, “I knew you could do it.” The love in his eyes could have poured out if love was a physical thing. 

Mitch came over the radio as you were beginning to pull in. “And congrats kid. You have surpassed Lewis Hamilton’s rookie point record.” 

“LET’S GO! THAT'S THE SHIT!” 

“You really need to stop hanging out with Max all the time. He’s teaching you bad words.” 

You smirked under your helmet. “I’m a girl whose friends are dominantly male. Mitch you even curse over the radio.” 

Max almost didn’t want to look at whatever car was in the second place spot. He knew you’d be devastated if you weren’t there. Last he knew, Lando was behind him with you on his tail. It was your helmet that caught his attention. His body turned to see you standing on your car in the P2 spot. 

His heart dropped, but in a good way. He watched you jump off and jump into the arms of the crew. Head pats were definitely deserved as you tried to touch as much of the team as possible. He laughed when you purposefully hung off the banner, just to get closer to the crew who were a bit further back. 

He watched you and Mitch hold out your arms (kind of like Lando and Carlos at the Singapore Grand Prix), mirror each other, and then hug it out. He swears he saw the older lady wipe away a few tears. 

Next was Christian, who gave you a big hug as Max finally made his way to the wall of crew. It was his turn for hugs, high-fives, and helmet pats. 

You had just gotten to Arthur, who held onto you a bit longer than everyone else. 

Just for the two of you, he whispered, “If you didn’t have you helmet on, I’d kiss you right here in front of all these people.” 

Your cheeks were bright red under the helmet.

Ollie, who had been able to escape from the prancing horse, had also come to congratulate you. His hug was a tag shorter than Arthur’s, but you knew he did it to make your previous hug not look as suspicious. 

You had been on the podium time and time before, but this felt different. You don’t know if it was the adrenaline, the sun, or the happiness that ran through you veins that made the trophy a bit lighter or the bubbly a bit sweeter: maybe it was all three. 

You were still hungry for a win, starving, but this was just the snack to tide you over.

Down below, Arthur and Ollie had somehow gotten a hand on the boombox once again. You could barely hear it on the podium, but you had a guess. Suddenly, the music screeched to a halt, making everyone confused. You watched as your two boys had a knowing smirk on their faces. The same smirk slowly crept on your face as well. 

You turned to Max and Lando, who looked equally confused. You held your trophy to your lips, as though it were a microphone. You pointed at the two men, and lip-synced the words. 

“BACKSTREET’S BACK -  ALL RIGHT!” 

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing 1-2 in the house! The Red Bull Ring was shining as our drivers carried home two new trophies! Congrats to y/n.89 for her first record as she surpasses Lewis Hamilton's rookie points with 124 points total!

liked by y/n.89, maxverstappen, lewishamilton, and 4,203,893 others

y/n.nation THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

y/n_on_top that fight for the win will go in the history books mark my words

landonorris please tell your drivers to slow down so the rest of us can have a chance

charles_leclerc I second this y/n.89 idk, you all just sound like misogynists here... maxverstappen1 what she said

lewishamilton I knew someone would have to beat it. congrats kid

y/n.89 thank you Lew! (someone should take notes ahem landonorris) landonorris sure bug, sure

redbullfan 1-2! 1-2! 1-2!

y/n.lover she is legit currently in p3 for the constructor's championship...what do they feed her?

y/n.89 the tears of my enemies (Charles cries a lot) charles_leclerc HEY redbullracing lots of energy drinks and protein!

arthurxy/n Arthur back in the rb garage - too bad ollie couldn't join them

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 my boys are BACK

liked by y/n.nation, boxbox_express, change_ur_f-car, and 85,395 others

y/n&co God I've seen what you've done for others

rookiefan I kinda feel bad for her boyfriend...but at the same time Arthur is more than happy to show her off (her bf needs to take notes!!)

olliebearman MOM ON PODIUM

y/n.89 did you have a nice nap? olliebearman yes until charles_leclerc forgot my blanket y/n.89 when I find you charles_leclerc arthur_leclerc Charles you better run charles_leclerc HE'S 18?? WHY DOES HE STILL NEED A BLANKET AND NAP y/n.89 you're 26???? why do you still need to call my teammate goodnight? lestappenlove and I OOP

prema_y/n anywayyyyy the second pic is hilarious

Arthur.nation thur is glowing, wonder if he has a gf??

arthurgirly4life I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

boxbox_express the trio no one knew we needed, but the trio that we deserve

arthur_leclerc has posted

arthur_leclerc a driver, a reserve driver, and an endurance driver walk into a bar...

liked by thurthur, ferrari_fanfest, porsche, and 102,284 others

arthur4porsche this makes no sense but it's hysterical??

y/n.89 ollie actually smacked his head on the bar

olliebearman YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL - DAD, MOM IS MAKING FUN OF ME AGAIN arthur_leclerc it was funny? olliebearman grandpa? charles_leclerc yes? olliebearman not you, you forgot my blanket. the better one maxverstappen1 take that Charles

arthur&crew if max and Charles are grandpa...does that make Christian great-grandpa??

christianhorner sadly yes y/n.89 SADLY?? YOU MADE HIM CRYYYY charles_leclerc w o w , could never at Ferrari y/n.89 Charlie, you cried yesterday

redbullracing maybe the driver should become our photographer?

olliebearman has posted

olliebearman why is it that when we're together, we're always eating??

liked by ferrari, y/n.89, logansargeant, and 83,294 others

olliebear WHAT ARE THESE PICTURES I'M DYING

arthur_leclerc blocked and reported for that last picture

olliebearman why? trying to look good for someone?? arthur_leclerc say goodbye to the blanket olliebearman too late, your brother lost it :( arthur.nation HELLO??

y/n.89 I look sexy

olliebearman your boyfriend sure thinks so :D y/n.89 what Arthur said, blocked and reported

prematrio what are these comments??

y/n&co shhhhh just let them

oscarpiastri guess the invites got lost in the mail??

landonorris same here... y/n.89 you weren't in prema? kimi.antonelli thanks for the food mom! olliebearman brother? maxverstappen1 here we go again

change_ur_f-car what a time to be alive

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[formula-nyoom]

Don't Get Squeezed | CL 16

Charles Leclerc x Sister!Driver!Reader

Summary: The unexpectedness of the Chinese Grand Prix brings the younger Leclerc sister placing higher than she's ever placed for the upcoming race. But with worries of a high placement and no experience racing this track, a crash seems like an inevitability.

A/N: Pardon my French(literally, I don’t know that much French and had to use google translate). While some would expect me to place this in Suzuka, I decided to go with China because I honestly had no expectations for that race and was stressed something bad was gonna happen the whole time. 

~~~

The Chinese Grand Prix seemed to have an air of tense unexpectedness. Having not raced the track since 2019, none of the teams knew what to expect from this race weekend. With new car regulation, updated track maintenance, and the fact that 5 drivers have never raced this track before, it was well known that anything could happen. 

Out of all the things, you never expected to qualify P10 at a track you’ve never raced before. It sounded like a miracle that you were able to fly your Haas into starting in the top 10. But while the team was proud of your efforts, you were very nervous.

 “I’ve never started in the Top 10, Char! I only know how to start from the back, and honestly I think I’d prefer it there since it’s easier to avoid first lap crashes from the back.” You said to your brother as you paced your hotel room.

“That’s not true. You started from the top 10 and even the front plenty of times in F2. How is this any different?” Charles asked. You scoffed.

“En quoi est-ce différent? It’s different because in F2 I had a good car and was constantly lapping the others. I still don’t know how I managed to get my Haas in front of Sir Lewis Hamilton today!” You exclaimed.

 “I don’t see what’s so surprising about you qualifying P10. That’s the same spot you ended the sprint race in.”

 “That’s because, in the sprint I was able to climb my way from the back.” You told him. Charles let out an exasperated sigh at your own self doubt. He could partially see why you were nervous. Starting in a much higher position than where you usually qualify puts more expectations on your shoulder to do better. They’re even higher expectations then the one you already have with being a Leclerc. But Charles knew that you could do well, not just because he was your older brother but because he’s seen you drive. You may start from the back often, but your racing skills are phenomenal to where you constantly end in the points. Even if you were to drop from P10 at the start of the race, Charles knew that you’d be able to work your way back up and higher. 

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Charles’ thought process was interrupted by a knock at the door. He walked over and opened it, being met by Arthur with bags of food in his hands.

“Arthur, can you please help me reassure our sister that she will do amazingly starting in P10?” Charles asked as he let his younger brother into the room.

 “Arthur, can you remind Charles that the only reason I did good in F2 was because I outperformed everyone with a good car?” You asked, taking the bag that was offered to you from Arthur.

“I’m confused. What’s going on?” Arthur asked as he set the other bags down. You sighed.

 “I don’t think it’s a good thing I’m starting in 10th place for tomorrow’s race, considering how I’m much more accustomed to starting in the back.” You explained.

 “I think she’ll be fine.” Charles said.

“What’s the main thing you’re worried about with being in the top 10 at the beginning?” Arthur asked.

 “Getting squeezed. Everyone at the front is always bunched up trying to overtake at the start. I’m worried that I’m gonna get stuck in the middle since I can’t pull back or move forward starting in 10th place.” It was a common worry, one you had during every race. But it seemed to be much bigger now with your current grid placement.

“So don’t get squeezed. Keep your elbows out but be mindful of your surroundings.” Arthur said nonchalantly. You let out an exasperated sigh at your brother’s response. Charles saw that Arthur’s response didn’t help you and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

 “Trust me (Y/N), as someone who has started in the top 10 multiple times, awareness of your surroundings is key. It may be tempting to overtake right from the start, but if you're that worried about possibly getting hit by someone, just remember to leave a gap.” He told you.

 “You’re one to talk about leaving gaps, Mr Inchedent.” You said, your own teasing managing to get you to smile. Charles sighed.

 “Peut-être que je te pousserai hors de la piste demain.(Maybe I’ll push you off the track tomorrow)” He mumbled. You laughed and threw a pillow at him.

 “Tu n'oserais pas!(You wouldn’t dare!)” You said, dodging the pillow that Charles threw back in your direction. 

~~~

The weather seemed to know how nervous you were and decided to make it worse by making it rain. It was only a drizzle, not hard enough to cancel the race. But every driver knew how unexpected wet conditions can be when racing. Even a drizzle can turn a driver’s race upside down. You’d just hoped you wouldn’t be one of them.

Before having to get into your cars, you and Charles managed to get away from your teams’ garages and give each other a hug for reassurance. It was your guys' tradition before each race. A promise that you would make it to the end. Arthur was able to join you two this time and you were glad that both of them were here. 

 “Don’t get squeezed.” Arthur said, giving you a shoulder pat before following Charles back to the Ferrari garage. If Arthur wasn’t Ferrari’s development driver, he would be in the Haas garage supporting you. But he had to settle for supporting both his siblings from only one team garage today. 

For the first time since joining F1, you slotted your car into the P10 spot after the formation lap while everyone waited for the lights to go out. You spotted your brother who was ahead of you in P2. You made eye contact with him through his car’s mirrors and gave him a thumbs up. Charles gave you a nod in return before you both directed your attention to the lights that were set to blink on at any moment.

Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink

The lights went out and everything roared to life. You slammed your foot on the throttle and your car cruised forward, steadily gaining speed. You immediately went to move to the outer edge of the approaching turn to hopefully avoid any front placement congestion.

 “Don’t get squeezed.” You thought to yourself.

A lot can happen on the first lap. Hell a lot can happen in the first turn.

You didn’t get squeezed going into turn one. Or turn two and 3. There was a bit of sliding on the track because of the wet conditions but you managed to get your car under control. It was the last turn, the turn that a lot of the drivers struggled with throughout the week, where everything went wrong.

You weren’t able to see who it was that was trying to overtake you. You felt the hit to the side of your car and could tell that it was too hard based on how fast you and the other car were going. But by then it was too late to break as your car started to spin out.

It’s when the ground switches from asphalt to gravel that the car starts to flip….

And flip…

And flip…

Your vision becomes a quick mixture of sky and ground as the car continues to roll. It’s too fast for you to properly brace for the impact with the barrier and all too quickly the only thing you see is darkness.

“Red Flag! Red Flag!” The voice of Charle’s race engineer quickly comes over the radio as he brakes going into turn one.

“What happened?” Charle’s asked, trying to split his attention between driving and whatever his engineer is going to say next.

“Return to the pits. We are trying to get more details and will update you once you’re in the pits.”

“Did someone crash? Tell me what happened.” Worry started to build up in his chest as multiple scenarios flashed through his mind, his sister a part of many of them.

 “There was a collision between an…Alpine…and a Haas.” 

Charles almost lost control of the car going into turn seven upon hearing what cars were involved but quickly recovered.

“Tell me it’s not (Y/N).” Charles demanded. “Please, tell me it’s not my sister that was involved.”

The silence from his race engineer seemed deafening. He probably knew that anything but the confirmation that his sister was safe could send Charles into a literal spiral on the track.

 “Come back to the pits Charles. Please.” It sounded like his race engineer was almost pleading with him and Charles reluctantly followed the orders and headed into the pit lane.

As soon as Charles’s car stopped in the Ferrari pitlane, he immediately got out of the car, not even taking the time to disengage his steering wheel. The pit crew tried to stop them but Charles pushed them away as he ran over to Haas garage. Charles’s hope rose when he saw the familiar white of a Haas car pull in, but it was quickly dashed when he saw that it wasn’t his sister pulling in, but her teammate. 

 Charles didn’t want to take that as confirmation that his sister was involved with the crash. He immediately ran over to the pit wall. His sister’s race engineer would tell him she was ok, right?

“(Y/N), are you ok?” Was the first thing Charles heard out of the engineer’s mouth. 

“Tell me my sister’s ok. She’s answering, right?” The race engineer barely glanced at the Ferrari driver, focusing more on getting a response from their own driver.

 “Are you ok? (Y/N) please respond.” The engineer said again. Charles wanted to take the engineer’s headset off, and ask that question himself. Hear his sister’s voice. Get confirmation that she was ok. But Charles’s eyes finally landed on one of the screens that was showing the replay of the crash.

You were approaching the last turn. For some reason Ocon decided to attempt an overtake when it was far too late and he got too close. His front wheel hit the side of your car, hard, causing you to violently spin. Charles' heart dropped into his stomach as he watched your car flip over and over on the gravel and it might as well have shattered when he watched your car harshly collide with the safety barrier.

“I’m getting no response.” Charles heard your engineer say to the team principal. Charles’ vision started to tunnel and all the noise around him became muffled. He didn’t even register that Arthur was now standing in front of him, trying to speak to him, but Charles didn’t hear anything.

His sister wasn’t responding

There was no movement from the car.

Is she breathing? She had to be? She had to be ok?

She’s alive right?

She was so worried about her placement and crashing. She wasn’t supposed to crash!

Charles’ brain betrays him as it thinks back to the one person he didn’t want to think about at this moment. This crash reminds him too much of Jules. It hits too close to home because the person in the car is his little sister. The little girl who was so enthusiastic about watching his karting races when he was younger. Who wanted to be just like her older brother and managed to race her way up the motorsports ladder. His little sister who made it into Formula 1 and who he gets to race alongside almost every weekend. 

Both of you knew from an early age the dangers of being a race car driver. But despite every crash, you’ve always managed to walk away from it. But all Charles saw was your car. Upside down and wedged in a barrier. There was no sign of movement from what little he could see of the driver’s seat, and you weren’t responding to your engineer. 

He couldn’t lose anyone else to this sport. Not after Jules…you had promised him that you would make it to the end-

“Charles!”

Charles snapped out of his panic state as Arthur yelled his name. He could tell now that he had begun to hyperventilate, and tried to calm his breathing.

 “They want you to try and talk to her.” Arthur said. “Maybe you can get a response.”

Charles numbly nodded and took the headset that was being offered to him. 

 “(Y/N), it’s Charlie…can you hear me? Are you ok?”

The silence was so loud.

“....(y/n)....(Y/N)!”

Consciousness slowly came back to you as you started to gain a sense of your surroundings. Your head was swimming and you couldn’t tell what was up or down. How did you get here? One second you were racing…and the next?

You had gotten squeezed.

“(Y/N)...can you hear me?” A voice came over your radio. Your arm trembled as you strained to press the radio button on your steering wheel. God, did everything hurt and you felt tears start to well up from the pain you felt. 

“Charles…” Your brother’s voice was the first thing you recognized. The one thing you could recognize in the darkness and confusion of your current predicament.

 “(Y/N)! Are you ok!” Charles asked over the radio. He sounded so worried and you mentally kicked yourself a bit knowing you were the cause of the worry.

“Charlie…everything hurts…I can’t move.” You told him. It was true. You felt trapped under your seatbelt and felt that one little movement would send pain throughout your whole body. 

 “Breathe sœur, breathe. Your car is upside down and wedged in the barrier. The safety marshals are trying to flip the car over to get you out right now.” Charles explained. That offered some comfort.  You listened to Charles' advice as you tried to take deep breaths. You moved your head a bit to try and get awareness of your surroundings, but even moving it an inch sent a wave of nausea through your body. You felt the car shake and braced your body as the car was flipped over and your vision was filled with daylight. You had to take in more deep breaths before you could lift your head and make eye contact with the safety marshal who was checking to see if you were ok. You managed to give them a thumbs up, a sign that you were conscious, and they immediately went to help you out of the car. Fans cheered as they saw you climb out of the car with assistance. Signs of relief seemed to echo throughout the pitlane and Charles and Arthur practically collapsed to their knees with relief at the sight of you alive and moving. Charles looked to the sky and placed a hand over his heart.

“Merci Jules…” He quietly whispered before hugging Arthur tight.

Despite the immense pain and the swimming feeling in your head, you managed to wave your hand to the closest grandstand, sending the fans a message that you were ok.  

Charles and Arthur watched as you were helped to the ambulance and placed on the stretcher. You would need to be taken to a hospital to assess any injuries and possibility of a concussion. Arthur told Charles that he would meet you at the hospital and call Lorenzo and Mama. Because despite everything that just happened…the race still needed to be finished. Charles would rather be in the ambulance with you than get back in his Ferrari and race on the same track that you had just crashed at. He wished the race didn’t need to be finished at all. But it had to. And if Charles had to race, then he was going to win. He was going to win for his little sister. 

~~~

Next to all the flowers and get well cards, on your hospital bedside table was a beautiful first place trophy. Charles barely stayed on the podium after receiving it, immediately heading to the hospital you were taken to once the celebrations were done. When he arrived, he was grateful to hear that you only had a sprained wrist, bruising and a concussion. He wished you weren’t injured at all, but compared to how crashes go, you got off on the better side. Charle’s sent another silent thank you to Jules, as doctor told him that the halo was one of the main things that prevented further injuries.

“I think I’ll purposely try to start from the back for the rest of the season.” You said while sitting up in your hospital bed playing Uno with Arthur. The doctors decided that you should stay overnight to monitor your concussion.

 “I think that may be a good idea.” Charles said as he sat next to you, watching the current card game take place. 

 “Or, you start on pole every race.  You don’t have to worry about being surrounded by the other cars if you’re already in the front.�� Arthur said, placing a card down. 

 “Yea but then the only view Charles would get the whole race would be my rear wing and I don’t know if that’s a view he can enjoy every race.” You said. Charles rolled his eyes.

 “Maybe I should get the doctor to check your head again with all the nonsense you just spoke.” Charles said. “As I recall you’ve been chasing my rear wing throughout the seasons.”

 “Uno!” You declared, placing your second to last card down. “Please Charles, it’s only a matter of time before I beat you at a race. Like how I’m about to beat Arthur at this game.”

 “There’s no way you’re going to win. I know for a fact you don’t have any blues.” Arthur said, placing down a blue five. He gave you a sly smirk that quickly fell when you gave him one back. Without saying a word, you placed down a +4. 

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part two.

Friday evenings are typically spent in the comfort of your flat. Normally, you’re half paying attention to reruns of whatever shitty reality TV happens to be on and half scrolling through social media to keep up with the ever-fluctuating trends of content as per your job requirements, all the while eating your body’s weight in takeaway. It’s not the dream, but it’s certainly a dream.

Tonight, you plan on amending things to include going through the pictures of Bali’s stunning beaches that Lando’s been spamming you with throughout the day, but beyond that, you have no intentions of deviating further from your norm.

You’re actually really looking forward to it. Though you’d rather cut off your own hand than admit it to his face and give him new ammunitions to tease you with, you miss Lando during the winter breaks. So much of your year is spent having him nearby━ a near-constant presence buzzing with the inability to slow down let alone stop━ and when he isn’t around, the silence seems louder. There’s no one else who manages to annoy you the way he does, and it’s just not the same without him.

To make matters worse, between your new job, Lando’s travels, and the scheduling conflicts that have arisen in turn, you haven’t had a chance to catch up with him beyond a few back-and-forth messages about his current escapades. So you really, genuinely, truly are looking forward to it.

Garrett Ward throws a wrench into things.

You have mixed opinions of Garrett. He can be very sweet, and he’s gone out of his way to make you feel incredibly welcome in your first week with the Manchester City team. He makes good conversation and seems genuinely interested in what it is you’re doing, often asking questions about your equipment and process, which is a nice change of pace from most other clients you’ve worked with in the past who rarely give two shits about anything beyond the final product. But his reputation is… concerning.

Garrett Ward is infamous in English tabloids for being a notorious womanizer.

There are several articles that come to mind, but the most damning of which is from 2019, before his trade to Manchester City, detailing with very incriminating photos how he’d been seen entering a club with two women and then leaving just a few hours later with a completely different pair. You don’t want to assume he’s the same man now as he was back then, nearly a full five years ago, but you’ve been working in the sports industry long enough to know that athletes can have anyone and if they want then they will have anyone━ there is no shortage of temptation.

And you are not arrogant enough to assume you would be the outlier.

Which makes his interest in you feel less like friendly curiosity and more like something you need to be wary of.

It’s also why━ as you make the trek through the Etihad Campus car park━ you feel dread begin to pool in your stomach as you answer your ringing phone. “Hi, Garrett.”

“Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly, sounding like he hadn’t just seen you barely ten minutes ago in the weight room. “I meant to catch you before you left, but you were outta there so fast I wasn’t able to.”

And there’s probably a reason for that, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “Yeah, I usually try to be pretty quick about it.”

There’s an awkward pause left open as if he expects you to say more, and when you don’t he clears his throat. “Erm, well, I was actually just calling to see if, perhaps, you would like to grab dinner with me this evening.”

You don’t. At all. It’s one of the last things you would like to do. There are plenty of other hellish things you would willingly rather subject yourself to before sitting down and sharing a private meal with this man━ jumping into the Thames is one of them, and letting Lando drive you around on the autobahn in his Spider is another. Both could very easily result in death, permanent disfigurement, or any other number of horrible outcomes, but neither includes Garrett.

Your hesitating silence must be an answer enough for him, because he chuckles again and adds on quickly, “No strings attached, I promise. It’ll just be two friends getting dinner.”

All you want to do is get cozy on your couch in your pajamas with a kebab from the place down the street and watch pretty people deal with their pretty people problems on TV. You don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but apparently, some higher power does.

“I suppose that’d be alright then,” you agree tentatively, speeding through the stages of grief as you mourn the initial plans of your Friday evening━ the easy, simple, comfortable plans. “Shoot me a message with the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

“Awesome!” Garrett cheers. “See you later then.”

The peaceful silence that awaits you after you hang up feels like it’s mocking you. Too bad you can’t flip off silence.

“Look, the truth is, City is looking at trading me at the end of the season if I can’t clean my act up.” Garrett’s voice is quiet as he admits the reality of his future to you, but it breaks the silence of the world around you like a gunshot. “And not just loaning me out━” he adds, a twinge of something akin to anger noting his tone, “━but fully trading me. They’re saying that my image makes things too hard for them and the only way they’ll consider re-signing me is if I can either keep my name out of the tabloids or try to clean myself up.”

In Garrett’s defense, he technically did hold true to his promise of just two friends getting dinner. Things were actually going quite well, too. The restaurant was a little more high profile than you would’ve expected for a casual meal, but that can easily be passed off as the luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes of a pro athlete who can certainly afford it. Expenses of your meal aside, he’d been good company, asking after the ways of working in Formula One and then finding similarities in his football career that made it easy to chat about the struggles and stressors of professional sports.

But you can recognize that this is where it’s all beginning to go downhill.

He’s announced it completely out of the blue as you’re walking back to the garage where you’ve both parked your cars. On top of that, his pace slows and you’re forced to slow down as well to match it until you both eventually come to a halt in the middle of the pavement.

You feel for him, in all honesty. You understand the difficulties of contract negotiations and how easily they can fall apart. The fragility of Formula One contracts is its own special brand of tricky and you’ve seen many friends move on to other teams in the blink of an eye just as they’ve begun to settle down and make their mark where they are. You can’t say for certainty that you understand the mechanics of football contracts to the same degree, but you can imagine they have their own fragile fine print.

But the chill of a January night in Manchester is brutal, and you’ll be the first to admit that your outfit does not protect against it. You don’t really want to be having this conversation in general, because you’ve known Garrett for all of a week which makes you acquaintances at best, but you especially don’t want to be having it now, out here in the cold when all you want to do━ all you’ve wanted to do since this afternoon━ is curl up in something warm and comfortable and pretend the world outside your flat doesn’t exist for a few days.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me if I’m being honest, Garrett.”

He shrugs. “I just thought you might be able to help.”

You shove your hands in your pockets in a desperate attempt to keep your fingers from going more numb than they already are and shake your head at him. “I don’t know how exactly you think I can help you with that. I’m a photographer, not a PR officer.”

“My agent thinks it would be a good idea if I showed the media that I could hold down a steady relationship. Prove to them that I’ve changed my ways, and have matured.” He shrugs again, nonchalant despite being the one to bring this up in the first place.

“Have you?”

He makes a face, something between a flirty smirk and a suggestive wink, “Well, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Garrett.”

“Look,” he crosses his arms and levels you with a look that fills you simultaneously with more rage and annoyance than a single person has ever made you feel before. “It would just be for a couple of months, and then we could stage an amicable breakup and that would be that! It just has to be long enough to show everyone that I’m not the same as I used to be.”

You give him a look right back, hoping it conveys how appalled you are by his audacity. “Okay, but why me of all people? Christ knows you probably have a list of women in your contacts who would jump at the chance to pretend to date you for a few months.”

His face pinches up in disgust. “Yeah, but they’re all former hookups, and I mean, they’re kinda psycho about me to be fair. If I tried to end things, they’d probably go to the tabloids themselves and smear my name with the worst things they could come up with.” He shrugs again, and you’re starting to find that you hate it when he does so. “I need someone willing to just play along for the time being and who will be discreet when things are over.”

“And you think I’m that person?” You scoff. “You’ve known me for a week!”

Your voice echoes and it reminds you once again that you’re having this conversation in the middle of a random street in Manchester. It’s cold and dark, and you’ve been attempting to bite back your frustration since the moment Garrett called you. You’ve been as nice as you possibly can be for this man, shy of bending over backward to worship the very ground he walks on, and you’re so close to your limit that you think if he shrugs one more fucking time━

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, but you know how this industry works. So I know you can be trusted.”

You take a deep breath to try and retain what’s left of your quickly slipping composure, before you say, “Garrett, this goes beyond unprofessional. I could potentially get into a lot of trouble for this. You’re technically my co-worker, if not my client by proxy. It’s not a good look for me to be getting with the athletes I work with, considering my entire career is based on working with athletes.”

He makes a befuddled face as if asking what that has to do with anything. It occurs to you that he’s probably never had to worry about the ethics of hooking up with someone when most of the women who are interested in him would do everything in their power to spend a night by his side whether it’s morally just━ or legal, for that matter━ or not.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from being all cozy with that Nor-whatever guy,” he grumbles.

“What?”

“That driver,” he repeats. “You post him all over your socials, like, all the time.”

You tear your hands from your pockets and throw them up in the air, “Because that’s my job?!” The stupidity of the man before you is genuinely baffling. He’s been asking about your job all week long but the way he’s talking now makes it seem like he didn’t catch onto the fact that your entire career is centered around media and the creation of content made with the explicit intention of being shared.

“I am quite literally paid to take and post pictures of him per my contract with McLaren,” you continue. “And even if I wasn’t, he’s my best friend?! I’ve been working and traveling and spending the majority of my time with Lando since 2019 so of course I’m going to be close with him. Do you not post your mates every once in a while?”

“Yeah, but it’s different. All my mates are guys, so nobody thinks I’m dating any of them when I do it.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I cannot believe this right now. You know, for a moment, I briefly considered helping you. But you’re actually exactly the type of prick the tabloids say you are.”

He takes an intimidating step closer, and his voice drops an octave lower. “I would reconsider if I was you.” You’re not short, but Garrett isn’t either. He’s one of the tallest players on the Manchester City team, and the way you feel now with him staring you down makes you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his opponent on the pitch.

It’s fucking terrifying.

But you’re fucking livid, too.

Your jaw clenches and you bite out sharply, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he starts, “is that if you don’t help me, maybe I slip a word about something or other to my boss who slips a word to his boss who is, also, your boss, and suddenly, whoops!” He gives you a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that it makes you feel like your blood is literally boiling. “He’s not your boss anymore. In fact, nobody is your boss anymore, because your ‘slip in conduct’ was very inappropriate and made several players uncomfortable, which doesn’t look very good when trying to get jobs elsewhere in the industry.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Well,” he fucking shrugs. “When you say it like that, yeah. I guess I am.”

You cross your arms, your hands clenched into fists so tightly that you can feel your nails digging painfully into the flesh of your palms. “You’re a real bastard, you know.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, love.”

If only it were legal to kill a man━ Garrett Ward would be six feet under and picking worms from between his teeth.

You weigh your options, though. You’re not sure how much weight his word actually carries. For all you know, he could tell his boss, they could bring you in to discuss things, and then you could explain it all from your point of view. Garrett is a notorious flirt and you doubt it’s the first time he’s tried to pursue someone who isn’t interested in him. You doubt it happens very often, but it has to have happened at some point. Not to mention, his reputation regarding women is bad enough that Manchester City is already giving him an ultimatum, so you probably have a chance, and the worst-case scenario is that you amicably part ways with the team and that’s that.

But realistically there is a worse worst-case scenario, and it’s pretty damn close to what Garrett is threatening. Losing this side gig wouldn’t really be too much trouble. It would put a dent in your savings, and you’d have to be a bit better about how you ration out your groceries and other necessities around the flat, but losing your job at McLaren? Being blacklisted from the industry entirely? That’s life-destroying. You would lose everything━ all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to get where you are would be for nothing.

All because of a prick in sky blue.

“Fine,” you utter from between gritted teeth. “I’ll help you. But I won’t post you on my account. I won’t bring you home to my parents. I won’t go round to your flat and I certainly will not have you round to mind. You get one kiss to make it official to the paps, and then nothing more.” You take your own threatening step toward him, and a vindictive part inside you shines with malicious glee when he shifts ever so slightly backward. “If you try anything else, I will run to the papers and drag you through the mud worse than any of your little psycho groupies ever could.”

He scoffs, “You’d ruin your career.”

“But I’d tear you down with me,” you reply.

He takes a moment to think, staring into your eyes and weighing how serious you are. Whatever he sees staring back at him must be convincing enough because he sniffs, nods, and smirks.

“Deal.” He leans down, “I think I’ll be taking that kiss now. Make sure to really sell it, yeah?”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre

━━ a/n: i feel like i say this every time, but i am seriously blown away by how well the first part of this was received! like, seriously, thank you so much for the kind words everyone said about it! hopefully this second part lives up to the hype of the first, it's a little denser, but the events are important to establish for the rest of the story so it needed to happen!

[wonsdoll]

𝐶𝑂𝐿𝐷 iN LA ── SJY

❄️ 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝖺 .. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗁𝖾.

심재윤 ／⠀𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 reader ── fluff + non 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 au ｡｡ if you know this song, i love you >3< happy birthday to MY MAN !! ∿ ✦ more

♫ iS YOUR BODY TALKING, CAUSE YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY? DO YOU DO THIS OFTEN? IS IT ALL JUST A GAME? TO YOU IM WONDERIN’ , NEVER SEEN THIS SORT OF THING.. AM i THE ONLY ONE YOU CAME TO SEE ?

moving back to your hometown was supposed to be exciting. you got to be with your family again, reconnect with close friends, and experience everything from your childhood. part of you had forgotten you met jake in your hometown.

it was senior year 2019, when jake slipped a note in your locker saying he has a crush on you. at first you hesitated, “ why would the best soccer player at school have a crush on me? ” you were skeptical, but you went for it.

your relationship was perfect.. for a while. miscommunications were happening constantly, leaving you unsure about where your relationship stood. you called it off, leaving yourself and jake heartbroken. to escape your heartbreak, after high school you moved away.

being a few hours away from your hometown was difficult. you didn’t see your parents often, you were alone almost everyday, who lead you to feeling depressed. after some time away, you decided it was finally time to move back home.

you pulled into the driveway of your parents house, turning the car off as you hopped out of the driver seat. you walked to the front door and knocked on it, hoping your mother or father would answer.

“there you are sweetheart, i’m so glad you got here safe.” your mother pulls you in for a warm embrace, being in her arms after a long time felt like a warm blanket on the coldest day.

it was cold after all, it was the middle of december. the snow was falling softly, and your fingers grew red and cold. you got inside, where you reunited with the rest of your family members. over a cup of hot chocolate, your mother asks about jake.

“have you contacted jake since you got here?” she asks, her hand resting on top of your free hand.

jake.. a name you haven’t heard in months. “no.” you quickly said, sipping on your hot chocolate. you wanted to avoid the topic, deep down though, you wanted to know how he was doing.

“you know he visits sometimes… to see your brother” your mom added, you had forgotten your brother and jake were close. “shit..” you mumbled under your breath.

jake and your brother were on the same soccer team, after finding out they had a lot in common, they became close friends. close friends lead to spending the night at each others houses and play video games.

your brother came out of his room to greet you. “been a while, sis.” jaemin hugged you. your brother never hugged you, but you could easily tell he missed you. you caught up with your brother, during the conversation you managed to ask about jake and his well-being.

“so how is he..?” you ask, sipping your hot chocolate to avoid saying his name.

“who?” jaemin teases, forcing you to say the forbidden name.

“jake, stupid.” you roll your eyes, placing the cup onto the nearby coffee table.

“jake’s been alright. we went to nationals and he made us win the golden cup.” jaemin bragged, proud of the moment. “he’s a great guy you know.. i think he misses you.”

jaemin’s words had you for a minute, lost in your thoughts. you couldn’t imagine your ex of almost 5 years missing you, or even holding onto the feeling you.

“you’d think by now he’s probably seeing someone.” you tried to brush off the thought of jake, as much as you tried, he always came back to your thoughts.

you went into your childhood bedroom, your bed made the same way you left it, all your childhood goodies remained safe and tucked exactly where you left them. you skimmed through your shelves, looking past all your school awards and achievements.

your eyes became fixed on a stuffed bear jake had bought you after finding out you won your volleyball tournament, the matching bracelets you bought on a school trip, and other goodies you had saved.

the idea of throwing away anything that belonged to your past relationship hurt you, it was almost like you were throwing away the memories and the idea of him, which was far from the truth. ever since that talk with your brother, you wanted to see jake again, you just needed a way to.

you decided to grab a few essentials for dinner that night, your father promised to make all your favorite comfort meals but needed a few more things. as you were about to check out, you noticed a familiar face at the register.

it was jake, something about his appearance was different. he looked more mature, his hair got longer. he wasn’t the jake you knew back in highschool, he was far from that. nervously, you walked to the register jake was working at. his eyes widened as he met with your figure.

“y/n.. no way?” jake says, he stops scanning your groceries, giving you his full attention.

“hi jake..” you smiled nervously, it had been a while and it was clear you both were nervous.

“when did you come back?” he asks, his dark eyes meeting with yours, sending a familiar feeling up your spine.

“today actually..my dads making dinner tonight so i had to pick up some things. so you work here now?” you ask.

jake nods, smiling dearly. “ i do, it helps pay for university.” he resumes scanning your groceries, placing them all in a bag. “that’ll be $21.97”

you reach in your wallet to grab your card, you hold out the card for him to take and swipe. jake’s hand gently touches yours, you don’t pull away, instead you found yourself yearning for another subtle touch. as jake swipes your card, returning it to you, your fingers touch his.

jake’s face flashed a shade of pink, he grew more nervous. “have a good day y/n.. hope to see you soon.” he waved goodbye, his smile was just how you remembered, soft and sweet.

jake went home that same night, his thoughts were consumed with you. he wondered about what happened after you moved away, what your life was before coming back. he sat on the couch of his apartment, scrolling through his socials as he normally would. suddenly, his phone rang, causing him to jump out of his thoughts.

“hello?” jake answered, it was jaemin.

“hey, you wanna come over and play that new game that came out earlier this week.” jaemin asked, setting up his console for two players.

“yeah i’ll be there.” jake hung up, he grabbed his coat and a few snacks before heading back out.

jake arrived within 5 minutes, while him and your brother stayed up playing video games, you sat in your bed, your attention growing strong onto a book you’d recently gotten into. within a few hours of gaming, jaemin has fallen asleep on the bean bag chair he sat on.

jake got up slowly, he made his way to the door and opened it softly. his figure made it into the hallway, walking towards your half—closed door. jake knocked softly. “can i come in.”

“yeah.” you said, sitting up in your bed and placing your book to your side. “what are you doing up so late?”

“jaemin fell asleep.. and honestly i can’t sleep.” jake sat by the end of your bed, you could hear the tiredness in his voice and his eyes.

“how come?” you asked, leaning against the headboard behind you.

“because you’re back in town.. and i’m always thinking about you. but now, you’re here.. you’re consuming my mind so much y/n.” jake stopped, realizing he had said too much.

“i should go back.. shouldn’t i?” you asked, unsure if what he said was a good thing or bad.

“i don’t want you to go back, your home is here..with me.” jake leaned in close, the closest he’s been since your last moment together as a couple.

jake’s lips softly pressed against yours, pulling you into a sweet and soft kiss. his lips on yours was a familiar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. you slowly pulled away, jake had realized what he just did, he quickly backed up.

“i’m sorry.. i shouldn’t have done that.” jake got up from your bed. “i’m sorry y/n..” he quickly left your room, leaving you alone in your thoughts, questioning what happens next.

it had been a few nights since the incident in your bedroom, you refused to tell your mom or anyone, except yunjin, your childhood best friend.

you and yunjin were getting ready for a holiday party, you both wore matching red dresses and a similar heel. “so he kissed you?” she asks, finishing up her makeup.

“yeah he did.. i don’t know what to do now.” you sat down, getting ready to place your heels on.

“i say go for it, i mean your brother told you he misses you .. and he pulled that? you should absolutely go for it.” yunjin stops. “only if that’s what you want.”

“i do.. kinda?” you said, you were confused and lost in your thoughts.

life with jake again didn’t sound so bad, in fact you both grew as the years progressed, you matured as individuals and that was what mattered.

you and yunjin arrived at the apartment complex the party was being held at. the music was blasting, drinks were on the table and everyone was enjoying themselves. you sat down on a couch, your drink in hand as you watched everyone have a good time.

“wishing jake was here.. maybe he’d keep my company.”

you thought to yourself, when in reality, you didn’t know how to talk to him after the incident in your bedroom. you sipped your drink, when suddenly jake appeared from the crowd.

“looks like you’re not having fun, parties have never been your thing.” jake smiled, a hand reaching out towards you. “come.. let’s go outside for a bit.

“you remembered..” you smiled, taking his hand as you both walked out to the balcony. “of course i do..” jake adds, opening the door to the spacious area.

you and jake stood beside eachother, it was quiet for a moment, silence consumed most of the air, followed by the loud music coming from inside.

“i miss us.” you blurt out, a rather surprised look forming on jake’s face. “ever since i moved back here i was afraid of seeing you again.”

“why’s that?” jake asks, his hand leaning against the cold medal of the balcony.

“i don’t know..” you sighed. “we’re both confused, are we no-“

jake’s lips crashed onto yours, a sweet kiss you received weeks ago. the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, it was all too familiar. his hand rested on your lower back, holding you close to him.

“i know what i want.. and that’s you.” jake smiled, holding you close to him. his eyes met with yours, sending a rush of shivers down your spine.

“i want you as well.” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again.

[puck-luck]

moving along | john marino

warnings: established relationship, general complaints about Jersey, minor brat!reader but it’s not part of the sex, untraditional sex in the sense that they do not have furniture, unprotected p in v, sex as means of resolving an argument i guess?, fingering (fem!receiving) (sometimes i wonder if i need to clarify that because i personally am not into fingering my man’s ass and i doubt it’ll ever make its way into my writing), reference to oral (m!receiving), eating come (so true) pairing: John Marino x fem!reader request: “Could I request John Marino smut where after he’s traded to the Devils from Pittsburgh his girl is upset about the move but when they get to New Jersey he decides the best way to handle the move is for them to christen the new apartment to make it feel like home?  Like literally no furniture has arrived yet and they’re already going at it.” wc: 2570

Pitt had been your home since John first signed his contract with the Penguins in the summer of 2019. You’d moved there with him because he asked, you two had curated a shared apartment space that you loved and considered your first real home as an adult. You were happy in Pittsburgh and John was happy with the Penguins. You hadn’t really known about the trade until it came, just ten days shy of the three year anniversary of Pitt becoming your home base, your foundation.

You knew that the NHL was a fickle business when John first joined. Injuries were abundant, trades happened more often than you thought they would, and at weird times. Hell, people lost their teeth all the time in hockey. It was a weird sport, but for three years you and John had made a place for yourself in Pitt. 

John had just signed a six year contract extension with the Penguins a year and a half ago– so, yeah, you were still in denial about leaving Pittsburgh. It just didn’t make sense and you couldn’t wrap your brain around it.

You had packed up in what seemed like lightning speed, ditched the town that you knew, and now you’re arriving in Jersey. You don’t know anyone or any places except your new apartment complex, your new home. 

You’re cranky because you’ve been in the car for six hours. Not because you hate New Jersey and everyone there for uprooting your life in a mere instant.

Obviously.

John has been a saint about the move and the trade. It’s not his first– since he was originally drafted with the Oilers, he’s been through this process before. The difference, as you’ve reminded him multiple times now, is that he never played with the Oilers. He was picked, but he went to college. Then, he went to Pitt. And Pitt, John, was home. Not New Jersey.

That’s the gist of the same argument you’ve been having with your boyfriend over the past week or so. It’s never escalated because John is patient with you and so great, but you’ve noticed the tick in his jaw when you huff and puff and tense up in his arms. You don’t want to be angry at him, of course you don’t, because you know that it’s not his fault he was traded. It’s just the way the cookie crumbles. However, his presence has been a reminder of the fact that you were so happy in Pennsylvania and you’ve been nothing but bitter about New Jersey.

And now, standing in your empty apartment with a frown on your face, John has reached his limit.

He sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck and one of your hands finds its way to his curls. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” John murmurs into your ear, another kiss adorning your neck.

You scrunch up your nose and side eye him. “Duh,” you reply. John knows that you two have been together long enough that you’d damn near follow him to the ends of the Earth, even if the end of the Earth is in New Jersey. 

Your response causes him to chuckle, kissing you again. He turns you in his arms and smiles down at you. 

You glare, pouting, but John can tell that you’re more upset than angry. It’s been a lot of change over the past few days, and even though you’ve been a little bit of a brat, your behavior has been justified. John’s heart clenches a bit when you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

It’s quite the sight– a sweet, long embrace between partners in their newest home.

At least, it’s sweet until John ruins it.

“I have an idea about how we can make this place feel a little more… homey,” John says. You know the lilt in his voice by heart, having been with him for years. 

Pulling away, you roll your eyes and making sure John sees, knowing exactly where this is headed. You play along anyway. “What’s your idea?”

John grins and whispers conspiratorially, “We need to christen the apartment. It’s not a home until it’s been christened.”

You hold back a laugh, but a smile slips through. “We don’t have a bed yet.”

“We don’t need a bed,” John says. He slides his hands down to your hips and walks forward, only stopping when your back hits the wall and he’s crowded into your space. His head dips down and he mouths over your jawline. “I can fuck you right here, against this wall.”

“Mmm, dreamy,” you quip, your hands smoothing over John’s shoulders. You tilt your head back so he has more access to your neck and he rewards you by sucking a hickey near your pulse point. “You really know how to woo a girl, Johnny.”

John’s hips press against yours and you can already feel him stirring in his pants, growing harder as he continues to suck bruises along your skin. His hands have found your waist and hold onto you desperately. His lips make their way to yours and you share a brief kiss before he pulls away. “Just want to make my girl feel better,” he says, blinking innocently at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

Oh, how you fall for those eyes over and over again.

You draw out a sigh, looking around the apartment. One of your hands returns to John’s curls and pets through them, making him wait for your response. John, patient as always, waits for your response with an attentive smile and a tiny tilt of his head. His eyes rake over your face, taking in all of the details. His thumb comes up to your chin, tilting your head up. He leans in for a kiss.

You offer your lips up willingly, letting him control the pace. When he pulls away, you relent. “I guess we can christen the apartment,” you faux-complain, like it’s a job to keep up with John and his libido. 

John growls, teeth finding your bottom lip. “Let’s see if I can convince you to be a little more enthusiastic,” he teases, sneaking his hands up your shirt and lifting it over your head. He tosses the fabric behind him. Out of sight, out of mind. 

You hadn’t worn a bra today, since all you had done was sit in the car all day, and John reaps the benefits of that fact almost immediately.

He latches onto your chest, licking over one of your nipples and pinching the other. You pull on his hair, arching your back away from the wall. Your mouth opens in a silent moan as you puff out your chest, chasing the sensation of his tongue swirling against the peak of your nipple. He switches sides, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

“Johnny,” you say, and he smiles against your skin. You bring him back up to your lips, groaning when his tongue finds its way into your mouth and makes contact with your own. 

He runs his fingers all over your body, cupping your breasts and tracing your sides. He takes a handful of your ass and squeezes, making you jump against him. His length is fully hard now, still pressing into your hips, and he breathes out a moan when you roll your hips, grinding against him. 

You tug at his t-shirt, a wrinkly old stained thing from college, and he pulls away from you just long enough to get the offending clothing over his head before reconnecting your lips.

Now, your hands are the ones roaming his body, mapping his details through feel alone. He’s always been lean, but his skin is warm against yours and he’s defined in all the right places. He’s also soft and solid and he moves with your hands, making sure you’re always touching him in some way. You place the flat of your palm against his stomach, and the other against his chest, and you can feel John’s heart beating underneath your touch.

John sinks to one knee, pulling your shorts down and kissing over your stomach as he does. He removes your shorts and your panties, leaving you bare against the wall. He holds you steady, completely unnecessarily but sweet nonetheless, helping you step out of the clothing. He kisses his way back up your body.

Pecking your lips, he runs a finger through your folds. “So wet,” he mumbles into your mouth, pride filling his tone. He brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean, then traces his tongue over yours. You can just barely taste yourself and it makes your knees a little weak. 

You lean into him, pulling him close. John works his finger back into you, pumping it slowly into and out of your entrance. It’s barely enough contact, barely fulfillment, and it isn’t long until you beg John to add another finger.

You’re scrambling, holding his bicep with a vice grip as he hikes your leg up onto his hip to give himself more access. You’re fucking against his hand, chasing the feeling of the orgasm that’s just out of reach, and it makes your eyelids flutter shut.

You moan aloud when John crooks his fingers and traces the spongy spot inside of you, teasing it. When you open your eyes, you find his trained on your face, lips parted and eyes wide. He never gets tired of seeing you like this, seeing you come apart on his hand.

“Please,” you breath out, voice cracking. You know you can come anytime, whenever you’re ready, that you don’t need permission, but you need John to give you just a little more.

“Touch your clit for me, baby,” John replies, kissing just under your earlobe.

You reach around and pet over your bundle of nerves, the contact making you clench down on his fingers. John groans at the feeling, sagging against you. You’re trapped between the wall and his warm, solid, strong body. 

“Make yourself come,” John encourages, voice soft. “Wanna see you.”

A wanton whine rips from your throat as your climax overtakes you. You arch into John as much as you can and he brings his mouth to your nipple once again, sucking harshly as the waves of your orgasm overtake you. It elongates it, makes your mind reel with pleasure, and you’re shaking in John’s arms by the time you come down.

He kisses you until you’re on solid ground again, the hand that’s not covered in your come crading your face. The other hand pushes at his shorts until they’re low enough that he can kick them away, then he does the same with his boxers. John grinds against you, his cock twitching against your oversensitive folds, but not breaching your entrance just yet.

He rubs himself against you until you pull away from his kiss and blink up at him, eyes hazy. Both of your hands find his cheeks and you smile at him, a little dopey. He returns the smile, goofy and oh, so pretty before dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“Gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, rolling his hips forward again with a bite to his bottom lip.

You nod, a quiet “please” falling from your lips. Your arms loops around his neck again and John brings his hands to your thighs, lifting you until your legs wrap around his waist.

“I’m gonna fuck you in every room of this apartment,” John promises, lining himself up with your entrance. You sink down on him as much as you can, as soon as his tip pushes into you. “Make you come over and over again, until you love our new home–” He thrusts his hips forward. “Just as much as you love me.”

“Impossible,” you reply. “Love you too much.”

John grins, a hand on your hip and the other bracing himself against the wall. “We’ll see.”

He drills into you, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filling the empty apartment. It seems to echo off the walls, surrounding you. John’s grunts and moans fill your ears, and your whimpers fill his. He bites your neck, then soothes the skin with a pass of his tongue, letting his saliva cool over your throat. It’s almost as satisfying as the weight of his hand would be.

He fills you so well, and he’s pent up, having been waiting to fuck you for hours. His favorite way to satisfy you, to make you content, is to fuck all of the negativity away and make it so your head is full of thoughts about him and the pleasure he’s giving you, nothing more and nothing less. The move was the perfect excuse to fuck you hard and fast and dirty, the way John knows you love.

As evidenced by your walls clenching down around him, the wet slick dripping from your cunt and gathering at the base of his cock. God, if he can get you to come before he does, he’ll have you lick it all off until his come paints the back of your throat.

Just the thought has him fucking you harder, faster. You’re barely able to make any noise because it’s just so good, and John relishes in the feeling of your fingernails digging into his back. Back in its favorite place, one of your hands pulls on his curls, grip so tight that his head has to follow. 

John brings both hands to the globes of your ass, leaning into you so that your back against the wall supports you both. He presses into you, fucking so deep that he swears he can feel the tip of his cock against your cervix with each thrust. 

You cry out, tensing against him as he fucks you through a second orgasm, your legs shaking around him. You’re breathless and despite the overstimulation, you’re still fucking down onto him, rolling your hips to meet every thrust. 

John ditches his other plan on a whim, burying his face in your neck and allowing his hips to stutter, his warm seed shooting off inside of you. You moan aloud at the feeling and John almost buckles, and would have if the wall behind you hadn’t been holding the both of you up. He catches his breath, his thrusts slowing as he continues to fuck his come deep inside of you, feeling the way your walls drag against his shaft. 

“So good,” you sigh as John lowers you to the floor.

He slips out of your warmth with a wince, his cock softening. His mouth waters as he watches the come slide down the inside of your thighs, a milky mixture of both of your releases.

You laugh a little at the feeling, dragging your hand over the skin to stop the flow and licking the liquid off your palm to clean yourself up. 

John groans at the sight. “Fuck, baby, don’t do that,” he complains. “I can’t go again yet.”

“Mmm,” you hum around your fingers, drawing them out of your mouth with a pop that has John wilting. You smile, sickly sweet and teasing. “Just like at home. Nice to see that a change of location doesn’t affect your refractory period.”

[stripedstarsblueflags]

goodbye to a world

reading between the lines of the various goodbyes and dismissals to logan sargeant

Pt. 2: Alex on socials

full series

oh, alex albon. you beautiful soul.

it goes without saying that the social media presence of drivers is so important that it’s monitored and orchestrated by an entire group of people– but a team like williams? they’ve got that shit under lock and key. i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again: the shitstorm williams has been in puts an unbelievable amount of pressure on their drivers not just to perform well but to pick up the pieces. they’re at the forefront of the “let’s look forward! let’s keep pushing” optimism campaign that all backmarker teams have to put together for the sake of professionalism. logan basically doesn’t have a social media presence, and you see more of him on the official f1 grid photography dumps than williams’ own account. alex’s posts are more frequent, but the content itself might as well be autogenerated. in conferences, they’re both reserved, careful what they say, always swinging back inelegantly towards the same one-liner: “we’ll look at the data, reset, hope to come back stronger in [next race]”. and unlike teams like mclaren, mercedes, ferrari– the two teammates definitely don’t make posts to or about each other.

alex posts this three hours after the official august 27 announcement:

alex…

this is going to have to be a list again, isn’t it? one post, a few photos, and he’s already said and conveyed so much more than the williams “statements” ever even tried.

first of all, 12:20 exactly? that’s been queued. obviously. we also know that alex found out about logan being axed mere hours before the decision, and i for one think that was absolutely deliberate. they wanted to get logan out– like, physically out of their vicinity– as quickly and as discretely as possible. so are they going to give alex, who’s famously kind and compassionate and talks too much and pays more on-camera attention to logan than practically anyone else in that team… they’re going to give him a heads up? unlikely.

so is there a chance that this post was composed for him before they even told him? that’s actually almost a certainty, but the most important detail to mention is that caption. let’s go sentence-by-sentence.

“i know firsthand how brutal this sport can be…”

wow. okay. i said sentence-by-sentence but i can’t even get past this because… BRUTAL. what a word. this is clearly a reference to alex’s own replacement by red bull. 2019. not that long ago, but considering alex’s f1 presence has already been solidified as “adhd cat dad who can also outperform the SHIT out of a backmarker car” it’s not something that’s called back too often, that he had a shot in a front running team. it wasn’t really a fall from grace, was it? because even in a williams alex has continued to prove himself and put that car way further ahead than it deserves to be. so it was painful but not in a way that, like, max’s silverstone crash is still painful to some people. it’s pretty distant in the f1 public consciousness from what i can tell.

but alex is making a point to throw back to it. not in detail, not heavily, because he’s not making it about himself. the only allusion to the actual event is the word “firsthand”. high is the right way to go about it because saying anything about “back when i” would be going too far, reshifting the spotlight in the wrong direction. but he’s asking us all:

remember when i was a kid and i was trying to build myself up and they tossed me aside like i was nothing? remember when i got discarded by a team that’s burned through so many second drivers already, and left thinking my only f1 legacy would be “that disappointment”? remember how much that hurt?

brutal. what a word. because that’s what red bull is, that’s what they do. famously. but it’s definitely not the word you’d apply to a team that’s supposed to be The Underdogs and A Family and A Lovely Sense of Familiarity and Support what fucking ever.

so alex gets away with this by the way he’s planned out the last half of that phrase: “how brutal this sport can be…” because he says ‘this sport’, not ‘this team’ or ‘james vowles’. so he’s flipping a two-sided coin here:

side one, on the surface. what williams want to see from him and want to believe. the sport is brutal. it is what it is. life’s not fair. that’s just how it goes. no blame but the harsh reality of the sport itself.

side two, between the lines. not too far deep between the lines, too, all you have to do to see this side is not have a compulsive, ashamed, desperate desire to see anything else. this is brutal. what’s happening to logan is brutal. what’s happening is painful and humiliating and you’re leaving him in the dust like he was always disposable, like you never wanted him, like you can’t wait to forget about him and i know because that’s what happened to me.

he’s saying this right to their faces. he’s saying it to everyone.

“…it’s tough to see Logan leave the team mid-season.”

i have a feeling this is the part that was prewritten just because of the word tough. “this is, of course, incredibly tough on” et cetera, we know where that understatement came from. the emphasis is on the fact that the disruption, the replacement is happening literally during the season, which is Such A Mess For Everyone, not the fact that the disruption is logan losing his entire career in disgrace (because he’s already said that part). so this single sentence toes the line so gracefully it’s almost an art.

“You gave it your all brother and it’s been a pleasure being teammates with you.”

this is really interesting specifically for the fact that 1) shortly after james manages to say the same thing as a put-down and 2) he goes on to contradict himself. i’m going to pick up later on the “you gave it your all” part because we will definitely revisit that, but the second half is nice too. it’s not focusing on logan’s performance as a williams driver, or as an f1 driver. it’s about logan– and, to an extent, himself– in a light people don’t tend to see either of them in: as a teammate. when you’ve got a team like mclaren or ferrari where the teammates are so closely matched that their race craft, cooperation and competition is a direct talking point in their racing, we talk about that a lot more often. but alex and logan can spend a race more than half a grid apart from each other, and as a williams driver that’s been true for alex this whole time. so we don’t think of which of them is or isn’t a better teammate because they’re barely driving the same race, and they’re not being treated like they’re in the same team. but even bringing that up in a post is good to see, just another way to give logan an additional title. the williams’ failure, the underperformer, the disappointment, the backmarker, and– oh yeah, alex albon’s teammate. love to see it.

“I know whatever you do next, you’ll be awesome.”

WOAH. okay, talk about shifting the spotlight. what’s been the williams 2024 story so far? i mean, if you were going to use a sentence to describe “how we got here” and “where we’re going”? we would probably see something like: logan’s failure in 24 brought in carlos sainz for 25. the narrative from james vowles in particular is: whatever we do next with carlos sainz, we’ll be awesome. the williams narrative since jv took over has basically been “uhhh yeah we’re nowhere now but WE’RE GONNA BE!! UH! SOMEWHERE! EVENTUALLY!” all about the future.

logan, in contrast… his whole narrative since joining f1 and immediately tumbling has been “he had a chance for a future but it’s gone now.”

not. to. alex. albon. in the wake of this announcement everybody is fucking reeling, and in the context of williams people are buzzing all around colapinto and how he’s been rocketed into the limelight for the better or worse, and all the distraught logan fans are either throwing up or screaming to the heavens, “WHAT NOW??” logan is being pushed aside the same way you’d push some clutter off a desk. he’s evaporating into thin air, or at least that’s what williams are trying to make him do.

three hours in, and alex albon is there to remind us: logan’s story is not over. he’s acknowledging that logan’s future is wide open, empty, undecided and unprepared (“whatever you do next”) but he’s ACKNOWLEDGING THE FUTURE. and the change in tone from third-person “seeing Logan” to second-person “you’ll be awesome”… once again, it’s not about him. it’s not about alex being a nice guy and a nice teammate and showing the world how nice he is by taking pity on this other person who’s leaving. he’s personally telling logan and by extension us: you’ll be awesome. doesn’t matter where you go, what you do, you have the potential to be awesome and so you will be. it’s not even “have fun” “enjoy where you’re going” “i hope you do well” it’s <<you will>>.

“Just you fucking wait,” Alex is saying. “You wait and watch. He’ll show you.”

it’s not just a lovely goodbye, it’s a ferocious goodbye. it’s a statement. it’s a confident send off, maybe the only genuine vote of confidence he’s ever gotten from williams.

and we love to see it.

[maikissed]

sweet feelings

Richarlison x reader

Hi, hello. Soooo I’ve written something and wanted to share. Maybe it will come to your liking. I write stuff from time to time but mostly in my mother language and english is not my first language so I'm very sorry for any misspelling and mistakes in my grammar :( I am a huge football fan and sometimes I just get inspired by those talented boys.

This one is for one of my favourite Brasilians. Hope it'll reach some audience. Let me know what you think and if you'd like a Part 2 ;)

warning: it's a bit smuttish, aaaaand i've never wrote a smut so I'm sorry for poor writing as well. friends to lovers trope bcuz i'm kinda a sucker for that :|

After the ceremony of The Best FIFA Football Awards, you and Richarlison both came back to your hotel around 2 am. You were feeling slightly tipsy, due to the few sweet and sour drinks you’ve had at the gala, so you kept smiling at your friend trying to convince him to carry you to your shared room.

„Now you’re just being whiny" he commented after letting you first into the lift.

Your legs were killing you after wearing high heels all night. You’d take them off right this moment if it weren’t for the lack of energy to actually bend down.

You sighed.

 „Are you dissapointed?”

„No, why would I be?” Richy answered looking in your direction.

„You were very excited about this ceremony. But it was nice of you to congratulate the winner"

You sent him a warm smile.

„It was a fun time anyway. Paris is pretty” he shrugged.

After entering the room you sat on the sofa right away, feeling tired. It was so calm, warm and quiet inside, the only sounds were coming from the outside, an urban tumult caused by passing cars and honks or police sirens. But it was just a distant noise that actually made you feel a bit more relaxed. Your dress started to feel too tight.

Richarlison sat on a little table that was right infront of you and took your left foot to place it on his knee. You smiled softly seeing him unfasten the clasp at your high heel sandals. Your thigh visibly bare due to the slit dress you were wearing.

„Are you upset that I didn’t join you on the carpet?” you asked before he took off your shoe completely and placed it gently next to the sofa.

You two weren’t a couple. You’ve known each other for almost 3 years now and have been spending a lot of time together lately. The moment you met something just clicked between you two and after some time you started to run into each other more often. In the second half of 2019 you were assigned to work in London and Liverpool, and since your work was associated with sports environment, football in general, you kept seeing him more during football matches or other sport events. At the time you met, Richarlison was in a relationship and you were too busy for any love interests. It was very casual in the begging until it wasn’t. For you at least. You were quite a distant person, always gatekeeping your emotions from showing too easily, your friends always said that you often come off as cold or blase even. It’s quite funny because you feel like you were the most sensitive and fragile person that could ever walk this earth and anyone could notice this if they’ve ever put more effort into it. There were times when you felt like Richarlison could actually read into you efforlessly and this relationship between you two have started to grow into something more tender. But it wasn’t love – rather lukewarm friendship.

You didn’t actually discuss the matter. You were convinced that showing up at the ceremony, with Richarlison holding you on his arm, will cause a fuss and gossips about you two being together will start to spread. Which wasn’t true. You weren’t a couple. Anyway you just couldn’t shake off the feeling that something have truly upset him tonight.

„No I am not, you had things to do. Besides… we agreed on that" he just shrugged being sure that you know what he was referring to.

After taking both of your shoes off he stood up and took his jacket off, hanging it over the sofa backrest and sat next to you.

He looked very handsome in the white shirt and black tie, you don’t get to see him dressed like that often. You enjoyed this look on him, however you didn’t get to tell him this openly, despite the fact that he’s been complimenting you at any chance he’s got. That was one of the main differences between you two, you generally were too nervous about this type of disclosure, when he in fact was immensely open and have never found it difficult to speak out whatever he truly wanted to say. You’ve always thought of him as of free spirit.

You rested your arm on the sofa to face him comfortably.

„Then what is it?” you asked.

He sat the same way like you and smiled gently.

„Nothing much” Richy wiped his face with his palm „I just feel helpless lately. Had my moment at the world cup and that’s it”

„You’re being too harsh on yourself”

„But it’s true. I feel like i’m not giving enough” he shook his head avoiding eye contact.

„It’ll pass” you whispered appreciating his vulnerability „Give yourself some time. You still have that great potencial in you”.

He hummed sending you a warm smile and started to untie the tie he was wearing.

„You look beatiful today” he added shortly, looking straight into your eyes.

Another moment when you felt that he could actually dig in right into your heart and soul. You let out a shaky breath. He truly said it for like the third time tonight.

„Let me” you just said leaning in to untie his tie for him.

The moment you got closer you felt the scent of his cologne, it was your favourite. After you told him that you like the perfume, he started to use it frequently because, as he said, he always trusts your judgement.

You were being very gentle with him. After slowly taking off his tie you undid two buttons of his shirt. You were focused on the task before you momentarily felt his heavy gaze on you. You took the risk and looked up, he had that smug grin on, almost made you roll your eyes. But mostly you started to feel really hot and dizzy. Maybe it was still the alcohol in your system or maybe he just got that effect on you. You finally had to stop lying to yourself, you were attracted to him. With any other guy it would be ten times easier. He was making you so so nervous recently, it was almost ridiculous.

You moved away from him and stood up, honestly not giving too much thought about what you were planning to do next. Something just pushed you to give in and risk a chance to show him how you truly felt about him.

„Come” you reached out both of your hands to him.

He grabbed your hands without tardiness and stood up as well, visibly towering over you. So you started to slowly walk backwards in the direction of the bed. He kept holding your hands, and you kept the eye contact. You were wondering if he knew what you truly wanted right now. Did you even know?

You stoped in your tracks and bit your lower lip before lifting your hands up to undo the rest of the shirt buttons. Richarlison said nothing, but you were almost sure that he could hear your beating heart.

„If you want me to stop right this moment, just tell me” you said sounding more confident than you really felt.

He brushed some of your locks back with his hand, exposing your chest. You felt your cheeks heating up.

„Please, continue” he murmured lowly looking intrigued.

After unbuttoning the shirt at the wrists you used your fingers to delicately slip it off his broad shoulders. It fell easily, and you were considering your next move. You began to worry that once you expose yourself to him like that, it would change a lot between you two. But you wanted him, like you have never had before, and it was starting to consume you.

You reached for the zipper of your tight black dress and noticed him looking briefly at your cleavage. His maroon iris were darkening and it caused shivers to run down your spine. You sent him a feisty grin before removing the dress straps and slowly letting the dress to fall off your body. Now you stood bare infront of him, wearing only lace thong. You heard him intake a sharp breath and stepped closer, throwing your hands over his shoulders. Your chests touched, he was warm and yet you shivered. His hand were immediatly at your hips, gripping lightly and you reveled in the feeling of his hard body pressed against your softest places.

„Can I kiss you?” you asked quietly feeling his chest rise and fall.

Now your heart was pouding mercilessly. You haven’t done much yet, however your body was almost trembling owing to how aroused you began to feel.

He didn’t answer, simply leaned in and connected your lips in a gentle and sweet kiss. He hummed lowly and his hands started to travel across your sides and back. You deepened the kiss and gasped feeling him gripping your ass cheeks. He took advantage of that, putting his tongue inside your mouth. The moment was so sweet but also exciting, it made you moan uncontrollably. You felt a clench and slowly building tingling between your legs, making you squeeze your legs together which elicited another moan from you. He then leaned back, you both were breathing faster. He looked almost etheral, with his lips slightly open, cheeks reddened and foggy eyes. Your pretty boy.

„I’ve been imagining this so many times” he breathed „You have no idea of the affect you have on me. Are you sure you want this?”

You couldn’t find words after his confession, feeling your throat tightening, so you just nodded silently and reached for the zipper of his pants. The garment fell to the ground.

„Minha linda” he said grabing your chin to make you look at him.

You smiled at the comment said in Portuguese and rolled your eyes feeling intimidated.

„Shut up” now you were back at your casual bickering.

Richarlison grinned smugly and licked his lips before bringing them to your neck. You put your hands on the back of his head, playing with his short hair, your lids closed. One of his hands traveled up your thigh and rested gently at the apex of your legs. It was delicate but abrupt and your lower body jolted forward. You heard him groan against your throat and he used his fingers to rub circles over your covered pussy.

„Oh” you whined in a high tone.

You always thought that if it ever came to this moment, you would be a little flustered and maybe unsure, because he was your best friend, and at the same time he made you feel like no other man before. But right now he was making you react to all this like an unexperienced little girl and it was so overwhelming.

„So delicate and responsive”

Of course he had to be cheeky during a moment like this. Almost made you want to slap him but you just started to grind against his palm. That’s how weak you were right now. And you were enjoying this, ready to let him do whatever he wanted with you.

You whimpered.

„Tell me what you want” he said.

„I…” your ragged breathing made you cut the sentence „want you to fuck me Richy"

[goldenbloodytears]

imma pose you a question! what is your most out there ghostface headcanon? the one that has you like this

trying to explain your thinking and reasoning if there even is any

Hi! Thank you for the ask! If you had asked me this back in 2019 I probably would have answered with either my headcanon (now canon) of his dad being a military man or the other headcanon where he’s an ex-Mormon/uses being Mormon as a cover.

I’ll talk about the Mormon one, since while it’s not exactly “out there” the way believing in Bigfoot is, it’s not a headcanon I see come up often (like at most its jokes about him being from Utah).

In 2019 and 2020 I fell down a rabbit hole of Mormon true crime thanks to Netflix. The documentary about the Salt Lake City bomber was a particular inspiration due to the focus on document forgery. It made me consider whether Danny might have some loose links to the ‘subculture’ if you will, as either personal knowledge or connections would help him when it comes to forging a fake identity.

As it stands I don’t think Jed Olsen is the only identity he’s used, I think he’s used others. I also don’t think he just uses completely falsified documents, but probably steals actual identities sometimes.

Back to the Mormons. There’s a big survivalist culture, like, if you actually check the LDS church website you can find resources on making survival kits/bug-out bags. There’s a lot of fascinating quirks in the culture of the church like this. I felt like the survivalist aspect would build nicely into the fact he’s a drifter. He knows how to pack and he’s ready to go at a moment’s notice, if he needs to ditch his car he can easily do so and make an escape on foot.

I’ve generally tweaked this headcanon over time to where Danny himself isn’t a church member, so he’s no longer ex-Mormon in my headcanon, but I feel like it makes a lot of sense that he would still have picked up elements and some of the quirks. I like the idea that some of his family are Mormon, and through this he learned that a lot of people won’t question those who act “godly” and “righteous” especially if they’re religious themselves. A funny quirk he’s retained is that he doesn’t drink coffee, instead his apartment and desk at work are littered with cans of cola.

Another quick headcanon that is funny is I like the idea that he carries a VHS player with him. It’s one of the first purchases he got as a young man and he paid a good amount of money to get it so it moves with him. He tends to sublet properties that already come with furniture, which suits him just fine, but not everybody owns a VHS player. If a current property already has one, you’d likely see two VHS players, which would be pretty weird to see if he had somebody over. Good thing he doesn’t usually lol

[maybege]

'tis the damn season

Summary: Years after you last saw Boba Fett, Natalie invites you to spend Christmas with her family.

Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 7.5k | Rating: M

Warnings: angst, fluff, more angst, probably too many Taylor Swift song references

Hello, my loves! How are you? I hope the end of the year is treating you well. After too many years since 2019, I have caught The Big 'Rona and thought to myself “Why feel miserable when I can make us all feel angst?”. Basically the premise of this is: Have you ever thought what would happen after the alternate (unhappy) ending? This is the answer. The vibes are heavily inspired by ‘tis the damn season and I think there are a few TSwift reference there for you to catch if you enjoy them (don’t ask me how many/few, I literally have no idea). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this last return to hot dad!Boba and I would be so so so very happy if you let me know what you thought in a comment or a reblog! I wish you all a very happy winter season and we will read each other next year ❤️

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“You promised you would come!”

“I know, Nat,” you sighed, leaning back in your office chair, “It’s just … it’s a long time since I’ve been back and I don’t want to impose and –“

“You would never impose,” she interjected, “You know that! My mom is already so excited to see you and,” here her voice got quieter, “If I do get engaged this holiday season, I want my best friend there. You didn’t even come to the summer trip this year.”

I didn’t come on the summer trip in the last three years, you wanted to reply but you knew that it would not help your case. You clicked out of the document you had been working on, immediately being faced with the desktop background of you and Nat, smiling into the camera when she had come to visit you last year.

You remembered how happy you had been to show her around your new home, to see her after your big move and talk to her like nothing had happened. And for a few brief moments, it had felt like your heart had never been broken, like you were healed from the sadness that seemed to haunt you from three years away.

“Okay,” you heard yourself say, “I will come to visit you over the holidays.”

*

Two months later, you were sure you were about to regret your moment of weakness. But it was too late to go back now, your bags were checked in, the plane had taken off and landed and the winter’s frost was sneaking its way into your thick winter coat as you hurried across the tarmac and into the little airport building.

You were barely past the gates when heard your name being called by a very familiar and very excited voice and it took you but a moment to spot a head of red curls bobbing up and down in the crowd. And then there they were, Nat and Will, everyone’s favourite couple.

It was late, already, and you were tired but having Natalie swing herself at you had you. “You look amazing! Oh, my stars, how was your flight? Did they serve dinner? If not, mom saved you some dinner she made this new pasta dish that you are going to love. Seriously, it is to die for, it has these bits of rosemary in the sauce that –“

“It is so good to see you,” Will greeted you with a smile, taking your suitcase from you, his hand landing on your shoulder, before leaning in to whisper, “She has been very excited as you can hear.”

You grinned, listening to Natalie chatter away as she led you outside and through the parking lot, right towards Will’s car. Snow was dusting the ground and you could see your breath forming little clouds in the air.

It was a winter wonderland.

“How was your day?”

“Exhausting,” you answered honestly as you sat in the back of the car, “Drove to the airport straight from work and it's just – it’s been a long day.”

“You’ll be happy to hear that Poppy has prepared the guest room for you,” Will smiled, “And made her famous lasagne.”

You could not help your groan, “That sounds fucking amazing.”

Nat laughed in the backseat, “I knew you’d say that!”

The drive to her home was shorter than you had remembered but perhaps it was also Nat’s commentary on what you had missed the last three years that made it seem like the blink of an eye before Will pulled into a familiar driveway.

“Oh, wow that’s a lot of cars,” you commented, feeling a little anxious about the gathering that Natalie had insisted was “small”.

As you got out of the car, your eyes Immediately went further up the road, trying to see if you could spot any light in the windows of the neighbouring house or a car in the driveway or Boba walking towards you, confessing his undying love and that he wanted you back and –

“Let’s get going before the food gets cold,” Nat clapped her hand, clearly excited and you tried your best to smile, “I bet Mom had to defend the leftovers for you already.”

Will was the first to enter and carried your bag up the stairs which you were thankful for. You could hear voices coming from the kitchen but you made it a point to let Natalie enter first. “Look who is here!” your friend announced excitedly and you stepped into the door.

Poppy was immediately in front of your, completely blocking your view and you immediately felt more at ease when you saw her genuine smile. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” she greeted you, hugging you to her before pulling you to the kitchen table, “Good thing Will is a quick driver or else …”

You were sure she continued talking, you just didn’t hear her. Her voice faded off into nothingness much like everything else. The only sound you could hear was rushing in your ears as your eyes drifted to the kitchen table. There was Nat’s dad, Rob, yes. He had a plat of lasagne before him and a glass of wine in his hand. He was smiling as he listened to his voice.

But next to him, standing up as soon as you had entered, was Boba. His plate was empty as was his glass, his big hands were resting on the table as if he had pushed himself up. He was wearing blue jeans and a belt and a blue button-down that was rolled up on his forearms. Your heart began to beat faster and faster with no shows of stopping and you were

When your eyes met his, time stood still. There was no other way to describe what was happening other than everything else ceased to exist. Time, space, and any other people in the room. It was all gone. All you could see, all you could think, was Boba. The years hadn’t changed him, really, he was still as handsome as ever, if not more. His dark eyes were warm and his lips were pressed tight together. You wondered if seeing you again affected him as much as it did you.

“Hi,” you blurted out, your voice sounding wrong to your own ears.

Boba swallowed, you could see his head bob, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. Lips that you had kissed once like it was the easiest thing in the world. And it had been.

“Hello,” he said, his voice such a deep rumble you felt like it made your chest vibrate.

Things were said and people stood and left and you didn’t really notice any of it. All you could do was watch as Boba left with Rob, his eyes never leaving yours and was Poppy with them too?

And how did you end up at the table with Nat and a steaming plate of lasagne in front of you?

“I, uh, I didn’t know your dad would stay here,” you finally said, numbly reaching for the fork. You couldn’t even look forward to Poppy’s famous lasagne. Great.

“Oh, since he sold the house, he stays over every Christmas,” she shrugged, “It’s cheaper than getting a hotel and it’s nice to have him close.”

“He sold the house?” you frowned.

“Told you,” she smiled sadly, “A lot has happened since you were last here.”

*

If there was one thing it was that Nat always knew how to get a whole group of people tied into activities, no matter how reluctant they were. Making gingerbread houses, movie nights, potlucks, and walks through the wintery town, Nat really went all out.

Which meant that you had two weeks fully packed with activities for the whole family and no chance of escaping Boba’s intense gaze.

Great.

You had prided yourself on the fact that you were over him. You had gone on dates, you had bought sex toys for yourself, you had set up dating profiles, you had done everything a woman your age did. He had no power over your anymore, of that you had been sure as soon as you had moved away.

But now that you saw him again, saw the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, saw the way his body shook when he laughed or how his hand looked around a cold glass of wine, you weren’t so sure anymore. The worst thing was when you caught him looking at you – more than once – almost lost in thought and his eyes so soft it made your chest ache.

“Dad where are you going?”

You looked up from where you were unsuccessfully trying to drip frosting over the edge of your gingerbread house.

Boba was already by the door to the hallway, looking like he got caught with the hand in the cookie jar. “I’m done,” he said and, as a way of explanation, pointed to his structurally sound and brutalist-inspired decorated ginger house.

“But we aren’t!” Nat protested and much to your dismay, she pointed to you, “Why don’t you help her?”

“Oh, I really don’t think –“

“C’mon, Boba,” Rob interrupted him gently, “Help the girl.”

You had never felt more miserable in your life. Not only did he not want to be close to you, but he also had to be forced to be close to you. An awkward silence ensued as you feverishly stared at your project, trying to avoid looking at him. Because stars knew if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to stop.

A dark green sweater appeared behind the house as he sat down and you swallowed when you thought of how good he looked with the little belly and the strong arms and the –

“So … what are we doing?”

“I’m trying to put snow on the roof,” you explained, still not looking at him. Your fingers were sticky with the glaze and you clenched your teeth when you saw a chocolate sprinkle slide down the wall. Why could this stupid thing not work the way you wanted it to?

Boba reached for the piping bag in your hands and when his fingertips brushed your knuckles, it felt like he was burning through your skin. “Here, let me. The trick is –“

You pulled away, the icicle you had been piping dropping to the tin aluminium asphalt. “I got it,” you hissed, “You can – You can do something else.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, and you could see him reaching for the bowl of cookie crumbs, “Should I do the garden?”

You nodded, trying your hardest to get your hands to stop shaking. Conversations assumed around you and you both worked in silence. He did not say anything and neither did you because what if you said something embarrassing? Had you overreacted when he had wanted to help you? What if you already had embarrassed yourself?

Then again, why would he refuse to help you? Why didn’t he want to be near you? Sure, you weren’t together anymore and you could imagine easier things for your heart than to be decorating a gingerbread house with him but surely, you weren’t that bad? Did you repulse him that much?

The thoughts in your head didn’t leave you any peace and so you chanced up a glance at him. He was meticulously spreading the cookie crumbs on the foil, his head tilted forward and your eyes followed the bridge of his nose, the line of his jaw, and the little crow's feet next to his eyes that you wanted to trace with your finger.

As if he knew you were looking at him, his eyes shot up, meeting yours. Your breath caught in your throat and you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t do anything, really, except for watching the corners of his mouth quirk up in a tentative smile.

Shakily, you smiled back.

*

“Let’s go ice skating!”

By now you should have known that whenever Nat had an idea, she would get everyone else to do it with her whether they wanted to or not. If you were honest with yourself, you appreciated her for always getting you to try new things and taking you out of your comfort zone but damn sometimes you just wanted to take a stroll through the snow and curl up in bed with a good book.

But instead of the soft duvet of the guest bed and the warm pages under your fingertips, you were standing at the edge of the frozen lake in a park, the air filled with laughter, screeching children’s voices and the scarping of skates on ice. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shifting from left to right to keep at least a hint of body heat.

“No skating for you?”

You looked at the man standing next to you. He looked casual. And good. He always looked good. He was wearing a black coat and had his hands in his pockets as he looked at a laughing Nat and Will that waved at you. You waved back with a smile, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t really feel like breaking my neck today,” you explained, “What about you?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

There went your composure.

“Oh.”

“So,” he started, smiling slightly, looking at you and forgotten was your determination to just ignore him for the two weeks. The man could read you like an open book and it felt so good to be with him again. Even if it would never be like before. “Nat mentioned you got promoted?”

“I was,” you confirmed, fiddling with your hands, “I, uh, I moved to the coast two years ago. It’s pretty cool, actually, no more fighting with marketing and I get to do some of my own projects.”

“That sounds great. So, uh, John still around?” he asked, his hands awkwardly in his pockets, “Couldn’t help but notice that he isn’t … here.”

You chanced a side glance at him, marvelling at how he

You cleared your throat, “No, he, uh, he hasn’t been around for a while.”

“A while, huh?” he echoed and you nodded.

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” you shrugged, “Is, uh, is Caroline still in the picture?”

“She and I wanted different things,” he explained, “Took us just a little time to realize it. I, yeah, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

As you stood at the edge of the lake, his arm lightly brushing yours, you wondered if maybe you were meant to be.

*

“I think Will is going to propose,” she whisper shouted one night as she sat on your bed, “He is so weird about his luggage and yesterday I saw him hiding something in the sock drawer.”

You had just stepped out of the shower, your hair still dripping as you wrapped the towel tighter around your body. “Did you look to see what it was?”

“Of course not!”

You threw her a look.

“Okay, maybe a little,” she admitted, “It certainly looks like a ring box. Now I just need to

“You know I am going to ask you to be my bridesmaid, right?”

You laughed, “Thank you, Nat, but I expect you to ask me again when it is all official.”

“Of course, of course,” she assured you, gripping a pillow in front of her belly, “I am just so fucking happy. Me! Married! Can you imagine?”

“I can,” you smiled, “And I am truly happy for you, Nat.”

Suddenly her smile fell, though, and you tilted your head questioningly. “Don’t tell me you already worry about the guest list,” you teased her.

“Oh, don’t kid yourself,” she grinned, “I have that figured out since forever, I just …”

“Yeah?”

“I just wish you could feel as happy as I do,” she admitted softly and your smile fell.

“It’s okay,” you said, your heart cracking a little, “I just haven’t met the right person yet. I – I wasn’t as lucky as you were.” Your voice trailed off towards the end, knowing that you had met your person already. It just hadn��t worked out. But you could hardly tell her that.

“Yes, but what if you were,” she insisted, standing up and pacing around the room, “Maybe – maybe

“Nat, if this is your attempt to get dating again, you know I am not ready after John and –“

“John was a bad idea,” she waved off, “But it is important to me that you know that I only ever want you to be happy, okay? I need you to know that.”

“Nat, are you okay?” you frowned, pulling her into a hug, “I promise I am happy and I would never think you were trying to keep me from being happy.”

“Okay,” she sighed, her arms wrapping around your shoulders so tightly, it felt like she was squeezing the air out of your lungs, “I just really need you to know that.”

*

His stares drove you crazy. No matter where you were, in what part of the house, or with whom, Boba haunted you like a ghost and the worst thing was you weren’t even sure if it was intentional. You saw him wearing comfy sweaters, debating wine choices with Rob or joking around with poppy and always – always – glancing at you like he couldn’t even help it.

You wanted to hate him for it. You wanted to hate him for the way he had broken your heart and how you still loved him so effortlessly.

*

You had never really understood what an out-of-body experience was supposed to feel like. Yeah, sure, when Boba and you had gotten hot and heavy there had been a few instances where you felt like your mind was floating above your pleasure-filled body, it never quite rang true.

Well, when Will woke you up the next morning, asking you to back up his suggestion for the day's activity because he wanted to propose to Nat, you knew the entire day would pass you by like you were just a spectator of your own life.

And it did.

You watched Will get down on one knee in front of everyone. You watched Nat gasp in surprise, tears of happiness trailing down her eyes as she accepted with the biggest smile you had ever seen. Everyone was so happy and you wanted to think you were too. And you were. Somewhat.

But you couldn’t help but ask yourself if that would have been in your and Boba’s future if you had stayed together. If something like marriage was still in your future, even if it wasn’t with Boba. But did you even want to marry anyone that wasn’t him?

Poppy and Rob got out the prosecco and as Boba hugged his daughter and Will, his eyes met yours and you imagined seeing the same questions in his eyes that were in yours. That made it even worse.

You were all squeezed into the living room, a fire roaring in the heart and loud jazzy Christmas music playing as Nat stood next to you, showing you how her engagement ring twinkled in the firelight. It was truly a beautiful piece of jewellery and Will had chosen it perfectly for his fiancée.

Nodding at whatever she was saying, you forced the corners of your mouth upwards. The back of your neck prickled and you turned around, finding Boba frowning at you, clearly concerned. In this room full of people, he was still the only one who could spot your fake smile.

“I need to get something to drink,” you mumbled to a still-talking Nat, turning on your heel and escaping into the dark kitchen.

The feeling in your chest grew heavier with every step you took and you swore you couldn’t breathe, your vision going black for a moment. Was this what a panic attack felt like?

You opened the fridge, the blue light a welcome sight and you breathed in the cold air, closing your eyes and thinking. It would all be okay. It had to be.

“Are you okay?”

You flinched, shutting the fridge door and turning around. You wanted to say Yes, thank you for asking before smiling and going back to the living room and pretending as if nothing had ever happened. But somehow, seeing him stand in front of you, a symbol for the biggest what if, the biggest regret, the stand-in for the life you did not have but wanted to have, so badly, with him, it messed with your brain. There was no other explanation for what happened next.

“I loved you, you know?” you burst out, immediately wishing you could take it back when you saw the way his eyes widened. Your breath caught in your throat.

There they were. Words that floated between the two of you that could never be taken back, that had opened you up to him shooting the final shot, throwing you over the cliff, stomping on your offered heart and shattering it into a thousand pieces that you would pick up and glue together just to offer it again.

Because there was no denying now that no matter how much time had passed, you would always love him.

“I know,” he replied, quietly, “I love you too.”

Words were stuck in your throat, building up into a mass that made you feel like you couldn’t breathe anymore. It felt like something was stuck in your throat – your heart, maybe – and all you could hear was I loved you too. But that wasn’t what he had said, was it?

Before you got your mouth to work again, Poppy came in, her presence like a shock of cold water on your system. “Boba, could you help Rob with the tree? I think it might be a two-men-job.”

“I need to go,” he said, still only looking at you, and he followed her out.

“Yeah,” you breathed, watching him leave the kitchen, “Leave me.”

*

You took the first opportunity to leave, mumbling something about a migraine after dinner, before you hurried up the steps and into the sanctuary of your room. You sat down on the bed and didn’t move, simply letting yourself cry to your heart’s content because there was nothing, no thought, no idea, nothing, that could keep you from feeling like you had just lost everything.

You didn’t have any more strength in you to deal with this and you doubted you had had any strength coming into this. All you wanted was Boba but life just … it just didn’t work.

Maybe you weren’t meant to be after all.

What must be hours later, a knock on your door alerted you before the door already opened and a familiar redhead appeared in your room. In her hand, she held a bowl with chocolate mousse and tears stung your eyes again because she was such a good friend and she didn’t even know and –

“I am so sorry,” you cried, hastily wiping at your cheeks, “I am so happy for you, Nat, truly, I didn’t want to ruin –“

“It’s because of my dad, isn’t it?”

You froze. “What?”

“Because of Boba,” she clarified, her voice careful, and set the plate down on the dresser.

You could feel the blood leave your face, all of it racing to your heart that was pumping so fast it felt like it would burst inside your chest. You felt faint. “Nat, I’m so sorry,” you said numbly, your voice hoarse, “I – “

“Don’t … Don’t say anything, please,” she interrupted you, taking a shaky breath, “I think it's about time that I confess something to you.”

*

It was the middle of the night when she was done talking. You hadn’t said anything, feeling like a wall had just collapsed on top of you and you just sat there. And then she sat there, tears in her eyes like she was the one who had been betrayed by her very best friend.

“It was you?” you swallowed, “It … You knew? All this time.”

“I know and I – I am so sorry. You two are so miserable without each other and it is all my fault but I just – I felt like you were betraying me. But now that I know I want this happiness for you too and if it is with my dad then so be it, I mean I, … I really hope you can forgive me.”

Suddenly it all seemed too much. The ring on her finger screamed at you, rubbing under your nose how happy she was and that it was exactly this happiness that she had destroyed for you.

“I – I need to go,” you heard yourself say, already standing in front of the door.

Nat jumped up, “No, please wait!”

You ripped the door open, rushing down the hallway in a blind rage to just get away.

“Is everything okay?” That was Will. Will who was still friends with John. John who had only called you because Nat told him to. Because Nat knew. She had always known.

She called your name but you did not look back, rushing towards the stairs and bumping into a warm body.

Why did everything need to be so mall?

Warm hands settled on your upper arms. “What’s going on?” a concerned voice asked and hearing his voice now made you feel both worse and safer. Stars, you wanted to cuddle into him and escape the madness that was this day.

“I need to go,” you brought out instead, highly aware of Will’s confused stare on your back.

“No, c’mon, please let us talk!” Nat was closer now and you didn’t know what you would do if she managed to catch up with you.

Suddenly you were a few steps down the stairs, a large body covering yours from her gaze. “I think maybe that is not a good idea.”

“Dad, you have no idea –“

“I think I do,” he said, his voice unwavering and you blinked in the half-dimmed light, taking in the curve of his broad shoulders and Nat’s face you could only see parts of, “And I think your friend needs some time.”

She didn’t say anything but you also did not give her a chance too. You hurried down the steps, almost missing the last one because of how eager you were to finally get out. You did not bother to turn on the light, knowing your boots were the ones on the very left and you hopped on one foot, trying to stuff the leg of your jeans into the leather.

A shadow fell over you and you did not need to look up to know who it was.

“I am coming with you,”, he said, the car keys already dwarfed in his big hand, “you are in no condition to go anywhere on your own.”

You did not protest.

To be honest, you were relieved. Your mind was reeling, you felt like you had lived fifty years in the last twenty-four hours and you just … you just needed the familiar comfort that was him.

It was eerily quiet outside. And cold. So fucking cold. He made it a point not to touch you but you still imagined feeling the ghost of his hand on your back, leading you to his car. He opened the door for you and you slipped inside, immediately assaulted by the smell of his cologne and the sheer domesticity of it all.

Boba remained quiet as he started to drive and you appreciated him letting you your space. Because as soon as you somehow were able to form a coherent thought, panic filled you because Boba did not know. Or did he? Would you have to tell him that it was Nat’s involvement all along that had gotten you into that fateful fight years ago? Would it even matter to him?

When the car stopped, you looked up, trying to recognize the place you were at and immediately let out a sad, broken laugh.

“How fitting,” you murmured, “Let me guess, we got room 13B?”

Boba smiled sadly, “I never actually stopped the standing reservation,” he took the key out of the ignition, “Never stopped paying it.”

You did not know what to say to it but somehow it felt like a love confession all over again. The snow crunched under his shoes and you shook your head, trying to free your head from the cloudy thoughts that made everything so much harder to bear.

The way to the room caused you flashbacks of all the times you had met up here and you hated how the few steps to the stairs and along the horribly carpeted gallery felt like coming home. It felt comfortable and safe and the way Boba opened the door for you with the smallest smile felt familiar.

He shrugged out of his jacket and put it over the armchair before turning on the heating to full blast. The sound of the AC was loud and jarring but it was exactly what you needed to get you back into reality.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked when you sat down on the bed. You toed off your boots, pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your feet under the duvet. This would be a long night, of that you were sure, and you were tired of always being cold.

Boba followed your example and the mattress dipped when he sat down next to you. You could feel the heat radiating off his body and the wish to cuddle into him was stronger than ever before.

I love you too. I love you too. I love you too. I love you too. I love you too. I love you too. I love you too.

He had said that and he had meant it. He had to have meant it or else he wouldn’t have said it. Boba was many things but he had never maliciously lied to you and he wouldn’t start now. Or were you just imagining things because you were so desperate to be loved by him?

You took a deep breath, fresh tears gathering in your eyes and you started to relay the conversation, the monologue, you had had with Nat. It wasn’t the best moment to talk for you, considering you still hiccupped with tears sometimes or stumbled over words in your haste to get through them without crying. But Boba listened to you and he understood you if the knot between his brows was anything to go by.

His hand was lying between you, looking like it was just waiting for yours to join.

“I am so sorry, I don’t want you to be angry at her,” you trailed off towards the end, frowning, “Or maybe I do. I – I don’t know …”

“I’m not angry,” he said, “I’m just incredibly disappointed in her.”

You laughed, tears sticky on your cheeks. “Sorry,” you sobbed, “That is just the most dad thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“I suppose that’s true,” his lips crooked up, his hand turned his palm up and you hated how that made your heart skip a beat, “But it is how I feel.”

“I never –“ you inhaled sharply, feeling your eyes sting again, “I never thought she knew. I never – What if she had –“

“Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes!” you cried, “Because I never – I never wanted to lose you,” your voice grew soft, “We could have worked things through we could have – we could still be … happy.”

Boba hummed and you gathered to courage to put your hand in his. For a split second, you were afraid he would pull away but he didn’t. His thick fingers slipped between yours effortlessly and breathing felt a little easier now that he gently squeezed your hand.

“I’ve thought so many times about what happened,” he started slowly, “It was the only thing I could think about for months and if I am really honest, it still haunts me.”

You sniffled, looking up at him through your lashes and he met your gaze and damn it why did his eyes still make your heart skip a beat after all this time?

“I wish I had done a lot of things differently back then,” he continued, never looking away from you and for the first time you imagined seeing him scared, “I should have taken your words at face value, I should have been more open about my fears and I should have … I should have believed you when you told me you didn’t mind my age. And I am – stars, princess, I am so sorry.”

You had cried so much, it felt like there were no more tears to cry. But instead of tears, you needed to spill words now because you could feel this was it. This was the moment you could be

“I would have done a lot of things differently, too,” you whispered hoarsely, clearing your throat before hurriedly continuing, “I would have tried to understand more what is at stake for you, I would have told Josh to fuck off right away,” Boba smiled at that, “I would have told you I love you and that – that I am willing .”

Boba shuffled closer, his shoulder bumping into yours and you smiled when he raised your joined hands to his knee.  

“Ask me why I sold the house.”

You tried to calm your racing heart. “Why did you sell the house?”

“I could not bear to be in a city without you in it,” he confessed, “To be fair, it’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you but I – I couldn’t stay in a place where there was no future with you.”

“Boba –“

His fingers squeezed yours before letting you. You watched as he stood up from the bed, walking around to stand in front of you and you gaped up at him, turning to sit on the edge. He held out his hand you gave it to him without a thought, his rough fingertips brushing over your knuckles.

“I never stopped,” he stated, his voice sounding as strong as when he had told Nat off, “I never stopped loving you, princess.”

“Me neither,” you murmured, hardly believing what was happening and you stood up as well, the edge of the mattress still in the back of your knees but you needed to be close to him. And you needed to stand because this was … this was important and you needed him to know and –

“Look where we stand, princess,” he whispered with a smile, his chest touching yours.

You looked up. Damn and motels and their cheese decorations.

“I heard it’s incredibly bad luck not to kiss under a mistletoe,” you breathed, unable to hide a teary smile as you felt his breath on your face. He was so close.

“We wouldn’t want that, now do we?” he replied with a grin, leaning even closer. His nose brushed against yours, his fingers brushing over your wrist until he could hold your hand and tug and –

Stars, you had missed kissing him.

It felt like coming home: his chapped lips against yours, the stubble on his jaw, the warmth of his body seeping through your clothes, his tongue and you couldn’t help but sigh into him. He rumbled, one hand coming up to your back and holding you against him and you smiled, trying to press even closer to him.

Yes, kissing him felt like finally coming out of the cold and putting on a warm blanket.

Boba pulled away and you both breathed heavily. “I love you,” you grinned, squeezing his hand, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he murmured, kissing you softly, “I never stopped loving you.”

He held your hand and he didn’t let go, his thick fingers squeezing yours so tightly as if he was afraid you would disappear into thin air at any moment.

“Wanna sit down?” you asked, slowly sinking to the bed and Boba followed, leaning over you until your back hit the mattress.

His hand let go of yours as he supported himself above you and there was something so beautiful about finally feeling his body rest on yours again. He leant down, kissing you again though he did pull away before things could get more heated. You pouted, running your hand over his chest and belly and relishing in the tingle you felt all over your body.

“Wanna take things slow,” he whispered into your ear, his nose brushing down your jaw before he planted a kiss on your neck, “I want to do things properly, this time around.”

“There is nothing proper about us,” you teased him, kissing his scratchy jaw and the rumble he let out made your core ache.

He chuckled and rolled off of you and you turned on your side, his arm immediately coming around your middle to hold you to him. It was like no time had passed at all between now and the last time you had been this close, your bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

“Not yet,” he admitted, “But there could be.”

Not knowing what he meant by that, you just looked at him, resting your hand on his chest.

“I got a job offer by the coast,” he revealed quietly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and you closed your eyes.

“Where?” you asked, hoping to not sound too eager, “I mean, uh, what city?”

He chuckled, his finger tracing over your cheek, “I think you know which one.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you opened your eyes. Boba was smiling now, properly, and his eyes were shining with mirth and he was serious and he wanted what you wanted. You could not help the excited laugh that bubbled up in your throat and soon, he joined in, peppering kisses all over your face.

“What do you say we start the new year together?” he suggested, his arm tightening around your middle, “On the same side of the country?”

*

The house was completely dark when you came back and you did not know if that should make you feel better or not.

Boba had given you his jacket, insisting that your thin pyjama shirt wouldn’t do anything to stave off the cold and he was right. Besides, you loved seeing him in his dark green sweater. Both of you were silent during the ride back but this time not because of tension or the accumulation of years of hurt but because you were so content.

He was holding your hand, his thumb occasionally running over your palm and you glanced at him every few seconds, smiling because this was the start of something precious. Something you would fight for forever if that was what it took.

The door squeaked as you entered the hallway, toeing off your boots and you could hear Rob snoring in the bedroom.

“I’m gonna get changed,” you murmured, suddenly feeling a little shy, “Will I see you at breakfast?”

Boba hummed, stepping closer to you and kissing you again, his fingers tapping your chin. “You know it, princess,” he rumbled and you kissed him again. After all, you had some catching up to do.

It was when you were both ready to go to your respective rooms that Boba posed the question you had tried to avoid. “Do you want to talk to Nat today?” he asked quietly, careful not to wake anyone.

You thought about it for a moment, your shoulder falling when you realized, “I – I don’t know. It’s all still fresh.” 

“You don’t have to decide now,” Boba assured you, pulling you in for a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “We have time.”

And for the first time in weeks, you could relax because you knew he was right.

You had time.

*

There was no question that it was the best and the worst holiday of your life at the same time. You went from spending time with Nat and avoiding Boba to spending time with Boba and avoiding Nat – an arrangement that you were sure hurt her as much as it did you. But she accepted that you needed time and despite your unsure feelings, you managed to stay civil until Will drove you to the airport for your flight home.

But the year that followed was, without the question, the best one.

In January, Boba accepted the job offer and moved to the coast, only a five-minute drive away from where you lived. You texted every day and set up regular date nights and although it felt like you had simply continued where you left off, you both made it a point to talk things through, several times, until you were ready to face the new future together.

In February, he surprised you with a weekend trip to a family-led boutique hotel. You spent the entire weekend locked up in the bedroom, too busy exploring each other’s bodies to really care for what was going on in the outside world. You ordered room service, watched TV in just your bathrobes and

In March, Nat sent you a tentative text message. You replied just as tentatively. Boba set you up as his emergency contact which you found out when his company car was involved in an accident and the secretary automatically called you, causing you to have five heart attacks all at once. (He was fine, he assured you multiple times but you still got an uncomfortable feeling when he would have to drive somewhere.)

In April, Will and Nat married. Boba attended the festivities and although you were specifically named as his Plus One, you only managed to bring yourself to attend the service, clutching Boba’s hand the entire time who never left you alone – just like he had promised. As Nat passed you on the aisle, she smiled at you and you smiled back. It would take time, you realized, to ever get back to the kind of friendship you had before. But it was not impossible.

In June, you surprised a reluctant Boba with a trip to the animal shelter. The plan had been to find a pet for you but after five minutes of Boba playing with one of the older and, according to staff “shyer”, dogs, you realized that if anyone was going to leave with a pet, it would be him. And so, it came that Boba adopted an adorable American Staffordshire Terrier named Rancor.

In July, you, Rancor and Boba joined the family on the yearly summer holiday. It wasn’t even a question of whether or not you would share a room and you secretly relished in John’s shocked face when Boba kissed you demonstratively. (He insisted he wasn’t jealous but you swore he threw the man a dark look more than once. And so did Rancor.)

In August, you and Boba bought a house to make into a home. It had a garden for Rancor to run around in and enough rooms to serve as an office and, as Boba teased one evening, nurseries. Countless trips to furniture stores, home depots and gardening centres later, you knew that this was the man you wanted to spend your life with.

In September, a crying Nat called you, causing both of you to panic and Boba already googling for flight tickets until she could finally form words and reveal that she was pregnant and already four months along. Boba got a bit pale around the nose when you teasingly called him grandpa but things got better when he realized he could call Poppy grandma just to get on her nerves.

In October, you and Nat talked for three hours on the phone. Many tears and apologies later, you felt like you had finally some closure on a part of your life that had dragged on for way too long. Were things great between you? No, but they were a start that you felt good about.

In November, you and Boba attempted to make your own Thanksgiving dinner which failed catastrophically and with a barely thawed turkey in the sink, Boba made the executive decision to order pizza while you tried to save the apple pie. The night ended with you relaxing on the couch, his arm around your shoulders, your head on his chest and Rancor snoozing away at the end of the couch.

But it was December that really made things come full circle. Because when you hosted your first Christmas party in your house, everybody came to visit, sharing the holiday spirit and exchanging thoughtful gifts and making you feel even more welcome in the family. A pregnant Nat helped you choose some fun activities.

And as the whole town started a countdown to the new year, Boba, whispering in your ear, his arms around you as you looked at the sky in anticipation, asked you to marry him.

[leqclerc]

The thing is when Charles starts on pole they can’t do those strategies because either Carlos refuses or he is not great enough and it fails.

Because still right now while Charles is a bit behind in quali (no confidence in the car) he is still better in race pace. And his race craft help tremendously for Carlos to keep his position.

So everytime it’s Charles race that has to be compromised. Already in 2022 we could see that.

Now Carlos who needs confidence in the car but also in himself can be on a high. And I agree Charles might stay behind in the standings. Could have been different with no mechanical failures and Ferrari fumbles that caused him two penalties for impending but… 🙄 Carlos is lucky I guess (i would say his side of the garage is just better because I don’t believe luck is a great explanation for 99% of what goes on at Ferrari). Charles lost some points when he tried too hard or not enough a few races back, we could sense he was frustrated with the year and the car. But after Monza and even today the faith he has in the team still… I guess he knows something we don’t.

I just need Ferrari to listen to his feedback and listen to him more than Carlos. We know Carlos prefers a car that will be slower. The field is coming together now so they need to be able to extract everything and that mean not an understeery car.

I fear Carlos recent form will get us back to 2021-start of 2022 : no first driver, Carlos resisting orders … the situation needs to be clear right away. Or Charles needs to be more like Carlos and do his own thing, but he won’t. Like today you’d think Carlos came up with the strategy, while Charles is barely acknowledged but he is the one who started on softs and who asked for the free pit stop but was denied. (Ooops I’m a bit mad again, the lack of ambition in this team. Yes let Carlos take p1 and don’t do a 2019 again but maybe trying to get both car on the podium for a top team is not completely out of reach?)

(In my wildest dreams Ferrari and Carlos would also acknowledge Charles work today, because without him we would be looking at Lando 1st win or Merc back on top that’s a given. We really need to work on teamwork and recognizing it, it’s crazy).

You're so right 📣

This is why I'm so frustrated—it's less about this one singular win (although, assuming Red Bull bounces back like nothing ever happened in Japan and this remains the one and only non-RB win in the entire season then obviously the optics will be massively skewed to Carlos's benefit) and more about what this means on a larger scale in terms of how Ferrari operates and their future long-term trajectory.

Carlos's own ambitions and ego have gotten in the way of maximising results in the past. I don't see how that's going to change any time soon, especially now when he's buoyed by recent events. When the same is asked of him there's always an excuse and/or bargaining, "don't ask this of me," "stop inventing," "I can go faster just give me [x number of laps]" etc. I mean, we all remember Silverstone, and at that point the championship was still technically on the table even in spite of all the setbacks. Having seen what we've seen over the past few seasons I frankly don't trust him to go above and beyond in the team player game in a high stakes, high pressure scenario, like how Checo worked with Max in Abu Dhabi 2021.

Ngl it was so funny to see the team be so deathly afraid of an undercut they pulled off completely inadvertently back in 2019, lmao 😭😭😭 Fall back 3 seconds behind, 5 seconds... And yeah, failing to pit Charles under the VSC when he was willing to go for it... still feels like they're struggling to make decisions under pressure and are unwilling to gamble even when 1. it's what the driver wants, 2. they're not risking losing a win because Charles was already at a disadvantage after the initial hold-up in the pits. If it had been the wrong call then it would've been on Charles, but seeing how quickly the Mercs closed up on him and successfully passed him on fresher tyres... Feels like they're committed to making the exact same mistake over and over again with him. I've lost count of how many times he's made the right call, was denied/overruled, and then it turned out they lost out that way.

And yeah, it sure seemed like it was Carlos and Lando who were the Ferrari teammates that day with their little agreement. Like, I get it, they're friends off-track, and they can celebrate however they wish, but in terms of on-track happenings... 🤨 Don't think I've ever seen Carlos help Charles out like that tbh.

Disappointing from the team for sure, but as for Carlos, I've long gotten used to the fact that Charles is little more than an footnote when he's high on his own success 🤷🏻‍♀️

As for Charles and still having faith in the team... Idk, it's hard to tell what's going on at the moment. Recently we've had quotes about how the team seems to have "figured out" the weaknesses in the car and they pointed to Monza as a sort of breakthrough weekend, but they certainly weren't expecting 1. Red Bull annual Singapore stinker, 2. to be competitive at this track. So I'm not sure if whatever they're doing at the moment is actually helping any—or rather, helping Charles any, since he's still vocal about struggling with the handling of the car while Carlos is on cloud nine with how the car feels for him—or if this is just Charles cutting his losses and looking forward to a clean slate in 2024.

I do find it interesting how he was willing to fight down to the wire in Monza over a third place spot on the podium, but then here in Singapore he's sitting discussing pre-race strat with the team and seemingly agreeing to be used for Carlos's benefit. Was he that disappointed with himself in the Q3 mistake that he figured, okay, let's at least do what's best for the team even if it puts me at a disadvantage (possibility of a win sky-rocketing after Red Bull's flop era was confirmed in qualy) or... Because he did comply, but he also had to point out that if they slow him down too much they're going to just back him into George, and that it would be more beneficial to ask Carlos to pick up the pace since he was at the front controlling it.

[redcap3]

Charming - Pt. 1

Charmed. 

Since I became a part of the hypnosis community, it’s been this shining star on the horizon. 

“Oh, you should go to Charmed!”

“I got the best idea from this class at Charmed…”

“Last time at Charmed I got so melted…”

The star became even more intense when I became part of the Oikos family. 

“I wish you’d been with us for…”

“When you go to Charmed, we’ll…”

“I am going to collar you at Charmed.”

Well. We all know that last one didn’t work out, but the point remains that it took on a status beyond just “this is a big convention” for me. 

My Goddess and the other Chosen made it clear that Charmed is their event of the year, a celebration on par with and just as important as the recent winter holidays. 

In 2018 I was still navigating the end of my marriage. In 2019, I was too broke after my divorce. 

In 2020, I didn’t feel like I could make the money work, and I didn’t ask them to help because it didn’t feel right. 

In 2021, I attended online yet still knew I was missing out on the ‘real’ Charmed experience. 

In 2022, we were within a week of leaving for the con when the host city declared a health emergency due to spiking COVID delta variant cases, and the family made the decision we had to stay home for safety, even as it broke us. 

(There was deep, fundamental damage that day to all of us in the Oikos, and many of those wounds still haven’t healed.)

I don’t regret anything about the collaring that Goddess found a way to perform for me and for Camden Dawn, my amazing counterpart, but there was still a lingering ache of knowing it was not what we had wanted to do.

Last summer I finally made it to Beguiled, and got a taste of what the hypnocon experience could be like. 

When Camden came to me and said she needed to be at Charmed regardless of what the family chose to do, I agreed, and I promised her she wouldn’t go alone. 

I made every effort to ensure I would be as safe as possible to go. 

Third booster for immunocompromised patients? Grabbed mine within a week of the announcement. Bivalent booster? Hit it the day it became available in Minnesota. I asked my doctor if I could do anything else to protect myself, and she even got me the Evushield prophylactic shot series. 

I pulled finances together even as I sunk money into dealing with some major house repairs. I researched what would be the best routes if we drove, I checked flights and I watched rental car rates regularly. 

On some level I knew that Charmed had been built up in my head into something bigger than any one event could really be, but at the same time a part of my brain said ‘If we go to Charmed, everything finally gets to happen. I get to have my own Charmed stories! Everyone gets better. Everything will be OK again.’

So I basically needed Charmed to be perfect in a way that was genuinely impossible…and yet I am also going to tell you that I had a really great trip!

So how does that work?

Wednesday: In chaos there is…mostly just chaos, actually. 

(Administrative note: The Oikos family as a whole and I specifically wore N95 respirators with fitted seals, plugged valves, and disposable filters any time we were in a public space, and changed those filters daily. If I do not mention being masked, please assume that I was masked up in my interactions unless in a private space with the consent of all parties.)

So I should preface that Goddess charged me with doing logistics for the trip after a conversation where the majority of the family decided that we would fly rather than drive. 

(Camden and Sleepyhead had already booked plane tickets due to some circumstances, but we would all be in the same hotel)

Within 12 hours of that discussion I had plane tickets booked for Goddess, myself, Copper, Jukebox, Tigress, the younger spawn (hereby referred to YS), and Timbit. (I initially did Timbit's seat by paying for an additional seat under my own name when I booked our tickets online. This turned out to be Wrong. More on this later.)

I booked a rental car which was listed as being able to carry all of us and our luggage for a week, set to be picked up once the main group had landed, plans to get us to the hotel and meet friends, and to get access to two of our three hotel rooms. 

(One room was reserved outside of the con block for Goddess, Copper, Jukebox and YS, since they’re only 17 and really do not want to know what we get up to in our spare time. We also had a handicap accessible room paid for by a friend of Goddess’ as a holiday present that was supposed to be in the con block (it was four doors down from the “outside” room, and nowhere near the con block or the con area!), and a “standard” room Camden had booked that was in the con area and turned out to be much more accessible for me to get around the con than the accessible rooms!)

We all slept at the “prime” Oikos house Tuesday evening, with cabs scheduled to pick up the primary traveling groups and take us to the airport at 7:30am so we would be ready for our 10:20 flight to Baltimore. I even checked us all in, prepaid for checked bags and forwarded the electronic boarding passes to everyone Tuesday afternoon so we could get to our gate with as little stress as possible. 

(I had originally planned on a Lyft XL capable of taking the group, but there were some concerns about the Lyft driver not wanting to take a dog.)

There were expected to be some light snow flurries, but nothing that would cause too much trouble. We would get picked up, go to the Delta counter closest to the airport’s south security checkpoint which was almost directly across from our gate’s concourse, and be golden. 

Which is why we were totally shocked to wake up and find that freezing rain had coated everything in about a quarter inch of ice. 

For those who don’t know: I have RA and mobility issues, and was planning on using my cane to get around the airport. 

But first I had to get my luggage. From my car. Parked on the driveway. 

The roughly fifty degree slope driveway. Covered in ice. 

Worse, as we attempted to abseil down the slopes to get everything together from the house for the trip to the airport, we quickly realized our cabs were nowhere to be found. 

We ended up taking two Lyft rides after all, though I was so deep into trying to adjust the plans on the fly that I didn’t even notice Goddess, Tigress, Timbit, and YS getting picked up from the other side of the house!

Once Copper, Jukebox, the rest of the bags and I were on the way, I got a notification on my phone that our gate had changed from Concourse G to Concourse F, but at least it was still in the same general area. 

Then we got to the Delta counter and found out our gate was now in “C” concourse - on the opposite side of the airport. 

I took my bag to the drop, and found out my main bag that I had (over) packed with outfits, rope, and toys was seven pounds overweight. 

Rather than try to repack my carryon and checked bag, I took the financial hit, got into the precheck lane at the south checkpoint, and asked for help from a handicap assistance cart to run me over to the gate while Copper and Jukebox headed for the north checkpoint. 

At the same time, Goddess and her party were being dropped off, and thanks to our heads up they went to the North checkpoint. 

Unfortunately, a TSA agent decided to give Goddess a headache about YS’s legal gender on their passport not marching the ticket (YS found themselves to be non-binary since the passport was issued) and then wanted to know why Timbit didn’t have an animal pass. 

That would be my fuckup, since I didn’t know Timbit needed an animal pass since she was in a carrier and had a ticket to travel in the main cabin. 

Goddess, YS, and Tigress went back to the Delta counter, finding Copper along the way, and eventually sorted the situation out while I sat at our gate, increasingly confused and hungry. 

(I had planned to get something from a caribou by our original gate and use a straw / strategic positioning to be able to lift my mask seal long enough to eat, but with the gate change there was nothing close enough to get to easily with my carryon and cane.)

My solution, once I was caught up via discord on what was going on, was to provide as much info as I could to Goddess until the Delta agent was able to help sort it all out, and to put in a mobile order at the Dunkin Donuts near-ish to our gate on the concourse with a request for Tigress to grab it in exchange for getting her a Diet Coke. In the meantime, Delta provided Goddess with a wheelchair and attendant to get her down to the gate, and everyone else followed suit. 

Now I need you to know I used the Dunkin app to order egg bites, an iced coffee, Tigress’ Diet Coke, and on impulse, a brownie batter donut. 

Boarding was called shortly after Tigress let me know she had the order, so I let her know Goddess and I were pre-boarding with Timbit, and to please bring me the food and I’d try to eat on the plane before the doors were closed. 

Long story short, Tigress arrived with a donut and a Diet Coke because that was all the Dunkin staff gave her, and I had to open a ticket with Dunkin’s mobile order support to see if I could get the other $10 of stuff refunded. 

It had been aggravating, stressful, and I got a big blob of chocolate goo on my t-shirt, but we all got on the plane and into our seats without further incident. 

(Well, aside from the ticket agent wondering why I had two tickets, which I had to explain again about Timbit (and my size making it generally a good policy to have an extra seat next to me) and the agent said “Oh, you didn’t have to do it that way! You could have saved some money!”

Notice she didn’t actually offer to refund me that money. Yeah. Thanks, Delta!)

The flight itself was pretty uneventful, and I have to praise the best pup here - Timbit (who was admittedly stoned out of her little puppy mind on CBD dog treats) didn’t bark, whine, or make a mess in her carrier. She was sweet and good and Goddess and I did our best to open the carrier when possible and give her pets, contact, and reassurance. 

(Oh, and we were miraculously not caught in the FAA shutting down a majority of air traffic that morning! A bit of luck I am still grateful for.)

We finally reached Baltimore, waited for most of the passengers to deplane, and eventually got off the plane and down to baggage claim, and I suggested to Copper that the two of us go to the rental car depot to get the rental and have him added as an additional driver so he could take YS out to the Smithsonian at a couple points during the con, while the others got bags together and took a break to rest.

(For those who have never needed to acquire ground transportation at BWI, it is a bit different from most of the airports in the US, where a rental car garage / parking deck will be located adjacent to the Terminal. To get a rental car at BWI, you must take a shuttle bus out to a facility that is about 3 miles away from the airport, where you will also return the car when it is time to go home. For Copper and I, this meant a ~10 minute bus ride (after hustling, and failing, to catch the one going by as we left baggage claim), then a short walk to the Enterprise counter.

Unlike our airline experience, getting the car reservation pulled up and having Copper added as a driver was pretty painless!

I was starting to drag a bit (a lot) due to lack of food / water and wearing my Envo N95 respirator for the better part of six hours at that point, but a reprieve was in sight. 

Sort of.

Y’see, I mentioned reserving a “Full Size” SUV / Crossover? The first two options we were shown were both crossovers with only 5 seats. 

Third time was mostly a charm with a Nissan Armada that we dubbed “Cyclonus the Rental Tank.” It had three full rows of seats with decent legroom, but loading cargo required a bit of tetris when we got back to BWI to load the family in. Still, it was a vehicle, it ran, and we’d fit in it. Good enough.

(It turns out it also had a hair trigger throttle, an acceleration curve that was more like a sheer cliff, and a navigation system that I well and truly hated by the end of the drive to the hotel, but hey, it did the job!)

We made the way down to the hotel, got our first room secured, and got everyone and their things inside while we tried to work on the second. (Oh - and those ‘accessible’ rooms? Required you to take a half flight of stairs unless you wanted to enter or leave the hotel from a side door! I might have been a bit peeved about that.)

I had already planned to make a Target run for needed supplies (CPAP water, potable water, drinks, snacks, first aid stuff), and we ordered some pizza for everyone because I was about ready to start eating some of my metamours at that point. 

(Sorry, Jukebox.)

After pizza arrived and I managed to eat and have some water, my mood was back up into at least “mildly chuffed”, and I began texting with Panda, who had graciously offered to re-color my hair when I had lamented not having time to dye it during my con prep. (OK, I actually started texting Panda after we had boarded the flight, but now we got serious.)

Getting the information to get into the second room took a lot longer than we had expected, and I was way past overstimmed and overwhelmed by that point. Even busying myself with putting the Target order in so I could pick it up later didn’t really help much, and it was an incredible relief when we finally got the keys and I could retreat for a few minutes…just as I got the notification that the Target order was ready.

I took a deep breath, asked Tigress if she would come with me, and we made our way over to get the stuff, which was mostly uneventful.

(Note: WHO PUTS MULTIPLE DRIVE-UP AREAS IN DIFFERENT LEVELS OF THE RAMP?) We would return to the hotel, get stuff distributed, and I was finally able to tell Panda that it could come down to start having hair fun, and I let another friend, Linnybee, know that I had the “Trance Cards” she had asked me to print ready so that we could hole punch them, attach ribbons / twine, and hopefully distribute them during the con as fun ways to keep track of scenes and as souvenirs. 

Not too long after we started making good progress on the cards, Panda arrived, and I broke out the various (and generally less than ⅓ full) bottles of color I’d had left in my house from the last time I had a friend help me color it at home. It was not long before I was changing into pajama pants and an old tank top so Panda could get to work mixing up purples, blues, and pinks, and place a very shiny cape around my neck. (“I’ve got foils and everything!”) Side note: Panda and I have been friends since sometime in 2020, but this was our first in person meeting instead of zoom, discord, or text conversations. It gave me an amazing hug when we finally got to be in person, and squished very nicely. Huzzah. It will probably not surprise anyone that after a long and stressful day, sitting down and letting Panda mess with my hair eventually turned into Panda messing with my head, getting nicely relaxed and trancy as it took care of  me, lightly fractionating me but being careful not to completely melt my brain since I still had things to do. (Turns out this also did Tigress some splash damage, which, well, whoops!) Goddess and Timbit dropped by while we waited for the color to set, and it wasn’t long before I was stripping down to shower and rinse off the excess dye while Panda made sure everything was combed out and looking good, then washed my hair with color protecting shampoo and conditioner. By the end my hair was purple and pink with blue accents that looked amazing and I got the chance to spend a bit more time with Panda and Linny before they each needed to be off to their next adventures, while I got dressed again to head back to BWI to pick up Camden and Sleepy.

We had passed a Steak & Shake on the highway on our way between the airport and hotel, making plans to grab food there for a late dinner with everyone on the way back from BWI, but in the post pandemic world it appears that S&S is no longer a 24/7 beacon of grease and hand spun goodness, so a backup plan of chicken, biscuits, and fries was arranged to be delivered to Goddess’ room while I made my way up to the Arrivals section of the terminal and found a good spot to wait, pulling up to the curb moments before I got a message from Sleepyhead that their plane had touched down.

When they emerged and made their way to the car with their bags there were hugs and a few kisses before we got back on the road, and I happily listened to how they had each tranced each other during the flight. I had known that Daja and Sleepy had planned a special experience for Cammie on the plane, but I was just as squeeful with compersion to hear about Miss Dawn putting our lovely dolly into her own deep trance.

I dropped them at the front of the hotel so that Camden could get checked in and acquire room keys, then parked the tank as close to Goddess’ room as I could, meeting everyone inside for a meal and some quiet hanging out time before I eventually went down to take a look at Camden’s room and I asked if it would be OK for me to stay down in their room rather than try to do a lot of stairs and walk about two-thirds of the length of the hotel any time I wanted to go back and forth. I was concerned about Tigress feeling abandoned, but she completely understood why I needed that access, and I was grateful for her acceptance. Bags were grabbed, stuff was shifted, and I ended up getting ready for bed with Sleepy curled up against me in one of the two queens and Camden in the other, listening to Goddess’ peaceful sleep file as the three of us drifted off. Thursday: Pre-Con sounds great, but…

Somehow, despite going to bed closer to 2am than not, the three of us woke around 8 and no-one died. I had originally planned to attend EnScenic’s Music, Hypnosis, & Hijinx class that morning at 10, but after I took my meds and did some self reflection, it was clear that what I really needed was to take it easy that morning. 

I am reasonably sure I had breakfast, though I genuinely do not remember what it was, grabbed some extra naptime with Sleepyhead, and eventually arranged to get some additional groceries for the weekend delivered to our room, though I was continually thwarted in my search for the high-protein shakes my dietician recent recommended I add to my meal planning.

I also stopped by registration and got my badge somewhere in there, but I genuinely don’t remember when or how, though I did run into several friends and acquaintances along the way to say “Hi!”

Sleepy has been open about her battles with anxiety and depression as she prepared for and attended the con, so I will say that I spent some time comforting her while Camden went out to explore and meet up with several people (including Daja, once she arrived), and not too long after we had a nice lunch sent over from the Double T diner, she asked if I could use some pallet wrapI had in my bag to give her a nice comfy bondage hug and a trance that soon turned into restful sleep. (Note: Double T is a descendent of the Greek Diner tradition, and their Moussaka was amazing. It reminded me so much of the Moussaka I used to get at Matsos’ back in Wooster that I would not be shocked to learn their family recipes both came from the same part of the country. Not a crucial part of the weekend, but it was a nice and unexpected bit of comfort and nostalgia for me!) I eventually decided to skip the afternoon classes as well, given that I needed to (in no particular order) acquire our massive household cookie order from EnScenic, pick up the books I had shipped to the Con via Daja to sell and drop them off with EnScenic so she could vend them when I wasn’t available, pick up rope I had ordered ahead of time from Lynx and her company MFA designs that I secretly intended to gift to Daja since she had expressed an interest in learning how to do rigging and I had offered to show her some of the basic ties I use with Cammie as her subject and Sleepy as my demo partner, go to a hardware store (or arrange delivery) for hex keys because I forgot my lightsabers’ set screw keys, my wife to murder and Guilder to blame for it.

(If it sounds like I was kinda overcommitted this weekend, you are exactly right. A big lesson I am taking away is to really think about how many hours are in the day, and how much I actually will feel able to do.) Oh, and did I mention that I was part of the on-site consent team, and was on-call in case any issues came up before our kickoff meeting / pizza party that night?

Yeah.

Thankfully we did not get any calls for consent issues that I was asked to help with that day, but it was a constant tickle in the back of my head as I tried to keep an eye on our reporting channels and discord chats.

Somehow, 90% of what I wanted to do got done, and I even managed to pick up a couple of badge ribbons from Meraklis, who I had done a fun scene with at Beguiled and was looking forward to seeing more of later.

Daja, her spouse Turq, and Cammie came back to the room for dinner, and we picked up Italian as a compromise between most of the group wanting pizza, and me already being pizza’d out thanks to having a lot of pizza on Monday and Wednesday, and knowing more pizza was in my future for the late evening. We ordered from a local restaurant called Bella Italia, and my eggplant rollatini was delicious, thank you. 

There was a bit of light play before and after we ate, but it was generally just a happy hangout time with good friends and watching some AGDQ speedruns. Daja was given the rope (though we kinda had to do a raincheck on the lesson - more on that later), and Turq and I got to vibe a bit while mutually appreciating Sleepy.

(For those not familiar with Sleepyhead, A) How? and B) You should know that basically everyone in the community is a little bit in love with her, and it is a beautiful thing. Since this was our first time attending a hypnocon together, I privately made a promise to myself to give her as much freedom as she wanted to play with friends, other partners, and potential play or romantic  partners. I didn’t want her to feel I was constantly following her around or breathing down her neck, and I think we both did a good job of letting each other do what we needed to do while communicating and occasionally sharing fun stories or experiences when we had proper permission.)

I went to part of the “Welcome” event hosted by Psy and the concom that evening, but lack of seating eventually made me move over to the room where the Consent Team meeting was to be held while I read a bit and futzed with my phone.

One of my goals for Charmed was to try to get out in the community more, since most people either knew me from my writing or an online event or two. I made a goal to be more social and make more connections in the community, so I decided to put a post out in the “Looking For Play At Hotel” channel to let people know I was open to play on both sides of the watch, so to speak, and that I had brought stuff to do rope, impact, and sensation play. Once that was done I also reached out to some friends and previous play partners who were doing classes, and asked about being a potential demo bottom for a few of them.

Well, I quickly learned that offering to be a top at a kink con will get you a lot of attention, as my messages exploded within moments of the post going up. 

I replied to as many as I could, making plans to negotiate and potentially play on Friday or Saturday, generally with an eye for making use of the dungeon while it would be open, but leaving in-room play on the table as well.

The consent team kickoff would go smoothly, with our fearless leaders Spinfrog and T distributing plastic file folders to keep our paperwork, notepads, kleenex, and some emergency candy in, and we made sure everyone had their ground rules (and more pizza) before breaking up. I ended up bumping into Meraklis again while she was talking to several people about her Jedi Mind Trick triggers, and she asked if I’d mind being an impromptu demo, since I wanted to have the trigger refreshed anyway. (Oh no, please don’t throw me into that briar patch...)

The trigger is pretty simple: If Merkalis or someone you trust waved their hand in front of you in the usual “Jedi” manner, you froze for a few seconds and then went back to normal. If they waved and said a phrase (“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for”), you would blank out, repeat the phrase, and then surface again. 

It’s cute, it’s silly, and I love it dearly. When it was set up at Beguiled she had put a limit of the trigger expiring once the convention ended, but this time we left it a bit more open ended as long as I was in a safe place with people I was comfortable going into trance around.

I had a few more hallway conversations on my way back, including bumping into someone who I had a warm and happy conversation with, and knew I recognized, but my brain utterly failed to identify her(?) by name, and since they didn’t have a badge on, I was SOL.

(You were wearing a cute motorcycle jacket, skirt, and a steel infinity collar, and I had hoped to run into you again and say Hi / actually get your name! If you read this, please ping me so we can catch up more?)

I would return to the room, a bit tired but still in good emotional space, and Sleepy would ask if her friend gothsocks could come down to say hello for a bit. 

I had also been talking to socks and getting to know her better, so I happily agreed. We had been discussing the possibility of doing a dollification and cuddles / light play scene during the weekend, so I was happy to just have some low key, no pressure hang out time to build some groundwork and rapport.

(Plus socks is neat, and again: trying to be a more social creature.) 

What mostly ended up happening was socks and I nerding out over FFXIV’s latest expansion and new classes / raids / dungeons for a while before we all needed to get some sleep while Sleepyhead watched us infodump back and forth, and it was great.

Not long after goth left Sleepy and I planned out a few things for Friday before we got cuddled up for bed again, knowing that Camden was likely to be spending the night elsewhere.

[thepoliticsofexisting]

Dear Kai,

I don’t know why I’m writing this now - it’s hardly the first time I’ve wanted to. For me, this is part of healing and self-affirmation. Since August 2018, I’ve contracted COVID twice. The first time (winter 2019/2020) left me with substantial cognitive long-haul symptoms which I’ve only begun to heal from in the last 9 months or so. Recently, I’m rediscovering memories and accessing some of my “advanced” conversational vocabulary, among other things that I haven’t been able to do for a couple years. I’ve also been working through the mental health fallout resulting from the brain damage and other life circumstances. Writing this is a part of my recovery. (In case you do end up reading this, I will try to keep it as short as possible.)

Your exit from my life transformed it. I want to be clear - it’s not that you didn’t want me in your life that really got to me - it’s the specifics of how you chose to leave. I just dropped you off at home one night and never heard from you again.

At first, I just assumed family life was happening, and you’d get back to me. Then, for at least a couple weeks, I was legitimately scared that you were seriously ill or injured; I assumed you hadn’t died simply because no one had sent me an obit or a funeral/memorial time. I respected you and your ability to communicate your needs. Understand, from my perspective, I had no reason to think you were angry or unhappy with me, we’d spent years quasi-living together, and we had plans to eventually have a household together.

I respected you as a partner, and, as such, I assumed you’d at least inform me that you were no longer interested in our partnership. When I opened Spotify on my computer one day and saw you were listening to some of your favorite music, I was relieved (that you were safe/healthy enough to be listening to your  music) and devastated (that you’d apparently ghosted me). I remember our discussions about how disorienting and hurtful ghosting could be; I was stunned that someone I’d respected so deeply, who knew how much I hated to be ghosted, would choose that particular method to end our partnership. It seemed to me like you chose the method of maximum damage.

Like others who’ve been ghosted, I spent hours/weeks/months dissecting each recent interaction that could have possibly given me a clue as to what was about to happen. I know I wasn’t perfect; I made mistakes that I was not mature enough to apologize for at the time.

(If you’ve ever wondered, I am so sorry for partially un-koshering your kitchen, for the time I accidentally partially outed you, and for the multiple social faux pas I managed to commit at Philly THC. I’m sorry for scratching/denting that rental car in California, and for being late to the Rose Bowl. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay the full time house-sitting in Philly with you. I could go on.)

For all my analysis, I couldn’t find an answer that warranted ghosting. I thought there was a good chance that there had been some sort of parental ultimatum. But then I thought, “Kai is so smart, and we are connected online through so many platforms. Their parents are smart but they would have to completely strip Kai of any internet-connected device to keep them from communicating with me if they wanted to - even if it was just to send a final goodbye message.” And, because of Spotify, I knew that was not the case.

You could have emailed me (like we did when you were in Italy), messaged me on Steam, Tumblr, Snapchat, Telegram, and probably ten other ways I’m forgetting about right now. Even without electronics, I trusted you could scribble something on a scrap of paper, put it in an envelope, and drop it off at a post office discreetly. So it seemed to me that no matter what the exact circumstances, you chose to end it maliciously.

More than once, I considered messaging Joey to ask what happened, but I was so ashamed. And it felt so middle school.

I’d built so much of my self-confidence (and discovered my personality) alongside you, and because I truly believed that you respected me enough to send a message - even one sentence - part of my brain just couldn’t handle the malice I perceived. I will always wonder why you chose that, but now I’ve accepted that I’ll never have an answer. 

I abandoned Tumblr, Snapchat, computer games, and anything else that reminded me of you. I avoided picking up my phone for any reason. I’m still trying to relearn how to take pictures at appropriate times - so often I was taking pictures to share with you. I completely withdrew from anything queer or gender-fucked - the last Pride-related event I attended was with you. The last musical I attended was with you; the last movie I attended was with you (unless you count Frozen 2 in China - obviously not my choice). For the first six months or so, any reminder of you or what we had together (like 75% of my life) was a gut punch.

I haven’t made friends partially because when I tried, it was so much work and no one could even begin to compare to the way we understood each other. Or, at least, the way I thought we understood each other. I will never know how much/little of that understanding actually existed. More than anything, I knew I never wanted a partnership to end like that again, so I was desperate to avoid social mistakes. All of that just made friends draining and depressing. Friends are something that I hope to someday reincorporate into my life.

You still appear in my dreams sometimes; not every night, just occasionally.

In conclusion, this writing has two main goals (I don’t know if these matter to you now, but they would have mattered to the Kai I knew): (1) if you’re close to someone and you want to end contact without causing more damage than necessary, just give them a message, even if it’s short, saying you’re out/done/whatever; and (2) I need to honor myself and my experiences - the good and the bad and the ugly - I deserve to record my experience so it lives somewhere more than my mind. This is actually my first written record of what happened, and I’m extremely proud of myself for writing it.

@eternal-blank-flank @showmesomeoneinnocent @handmeacoatifyoureinthere

[theflixdiary]

watched all on Jul 21, 2019 on Google TV

Sharknado Movie Series (2013-2018) directed by Anthony C. Ferrante

age rating: 13+ genre: sci-fi, comedy, action duration: 1h 50m (average) country: USA language: English screenplay: Thunder Levin, Scotty Mullen

major cast: Ian Ziering, Tara Reid, Cassandra Scerbo, Vivica A. Fox

plot summary : The Sharknado movie series follows Fin Shepard (Ian Ziering) as he battles waves of shark-filled tornadoes, facing ever-wilder dangers in a surreal blend of action, comedy, and sci-fi horror.

if you enjoyed this post, don't forget to show some loves by leaving comments / likes / reblog / help me to spread the words. follow me for more reviews!! ❤︎❤︎

read my thought below (may contain spoiler):

Sharknado had me shrieking and laughing in equal measure, but not for the reasons you’d think! these movies aren’t exactly masterpieces – far from it. they’re the kind of “so bad it’s good” spectacle that draws me in against my better judgement, then keeps me there, wide-eyed and jaw-dropped, as the absurdity just keeps ramping up. and somehow, I couldn’t stop watching, all the way through to the sixth Sharknado movie – well, almost. by the last one, I felt like my brain had taken a vacation to the twilight zone and might not be coming back. first things first: the CGI. trust me, I'm not talking “Jurassic Park” magic here; it’s more like “someone got carried away with early-2000s video game effects.” the sharks look hilariously fake, like clipart images pasted onto a hurricane. there’s no way to sugar-coat it: it’s bad – like "am-I-watching-a-video-game-or-a-movie?" bad. watching sharks get hurled around in a tornado, chomping through buildings, cars, and whatever else they land on… let’s just say, my suspension of disbelief wasn’t exactly suspended; it was snapped in half and sent flying.

but still, there’s something glorious about it. they keep trying, movie after movie, to make me care about these ridiculous plot twists, each more nonsensical than the last, and somehow it’s… entertaining? kind of? okay, very entertaining, but don’t ask me to explain why. the plot – if I can even call it that – is a total rinse-and-repeat job. Fin and friends tackle new shark-filled tornadoes in increasingly absurd locations, and every time it’s like, “will they survive this one?” (spoiler: they always do.) each sequel outdoes the last in sheer lunacy, as if they’ve got a checklist titled “what can we possibly do that’s even more bonkers?” it’s brain-melting, IQ-draining stuff, like watching a Saturday morning cartoon on a sugar high. by the end, I wasn’t even sure what reality I was in anymore. did I like these movies? not exactly. did I enjoy the experience? oddly enough, yes! Sharknado might be the cinematic equivalent of junk food, but every now and then, that’s just what I need. my advice for you: don’t expect it to make sense, don’t expect award-winning acting, and definitely don’t expect science to play any part whatsoever. just buckle up, prepare to laugh at the utter lack of logic, and maybe don’t binge-watch the whole series unless you’re ready to feel like you need a brain reset.

posters & stills credit: IMDb edited using canva

[onebigfangirlworld]

Peace and Quiet

Summary: Your exhausted but you also want to spend some time with your boys

Relationship: Bob x Rooster x Hangman x gn!reader

Warnings: none, this is just a lot of fluff

Word Count: 598

A/N: I havent written a fic since like 2018/2019 so please be nice to me. This is heavily insired by @daughterofthereaper02 and her work. I don’t own these characters and please don’t steal my work

Link to masterlist

You didn’t know who or what to blame for your exhaustion. You could blame the full moon that was happening tonight. You could blame the fact that all the students in your classes today were rambunctious and couldn’t sit still. You could blame the fact that you were up late unpacking box after box, trying to get moved into your new home with your boyfriends. You tried to find a reason for your exhaustion but there were just too many to count. Even though you could feel the exhaustion sitting in your bones, you still joined your boyfriends out for a night at The Hard Deck. Having not seen them, in what felt like weeks due to busy schedules, you’d take any chance to see them.

“You doin’ alright, sugar?” Jake asked you. The two of you had been playing pool against each other but you were struggling. Jake had noticed pretty quickly. So had Bradley and so had Bob. The three of them always seemed to notice when something was wrong. 

“Yeah,” you give him a soft smile, “but I think I’m gonna get another drink. Can you step in for me Bradley, please?” 

“Of course, darling,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you passed the pool cue off to him. You stopped by Bob, sitting on a bar stool watching the pool table and having a conversation with Phoenix, and asked if he or Phoenix needed anything. You got their drink orders, and a refill of peanuts for Bob, before making your way over to the bar. 

Returning to the pool area you pass off the drinks to everyone, before slotting yourself between Bob’s legs, his arms wrapped around your waist, as he continues his conversation with Phoenix. Your back presses against his chest, as you feel yourself relax into his embrace. 

“You alright there, sweetheart?” he mumbles quietly in your ear. 

“Yeah. Just tired that’s all,” you respond before stealing some peanuts out of the cup in front of you. He nods his head in response and gives you a quick kiss on the side of your head before returning to the conversation. You closed your eyes, laid your head back on his shoulder, let out a deep sigh and relaxed even more into Bob’s arms. 

Bradley nudged Jake’s ribs, stopping him from lining up the shot he was just about to take.

“What-” Jake started saying before Bradley cut him off and pointed towards Bob and you. Both you and Bob were enjoying the quietness of each other’s company. The two men smiled at the two of you fondly. They wished they could freeze the moment and stay there forever. It was as close to perfect as they could get right now.  

Bradley and Jake were finishing up round two of their pool game, when Bob got their attention. He jerked his head towards the door, a subtle hint, asking if they were ready to go. You were practically falling asleep in Bob’s arms and the boys all agreed it was time to go home. 

“You ready to go sweetheart?” Bob softly asked. You opened your eyes and saw your boys all staring at you. You nodded your head and moved out of Bob’s arms. Jake wrapped his arms around your shoulders and led you out the front door, with Bradley and Bob following behind you. As you walked to the car, you felt Jake give you a gentle kiss on your forehead. You gave him a soft smile. You were very happy and content and ready to go to bed.

[alittlebitofeverythingtbh]

The Night It All Happened

Corey Cunningham x fem!reader

Warnings: angst angst angst

Authors Note: I am sorry in advance cause this is kinda sad lmfao. This is a flashback in the Corey series, before the series started.

October 2019

You were sitting in your class, listening to whatever your lecture your professor was teaching on. You stared at the clock just waiting for it to hit six in the evening. Your prayers were answered once the lecture was over, and you gathered your things to head out. You were putting away your folder full of notes when someone came up to your desk. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey Cunningham,” you said with a smile, looking up at your friend Corey. He beamed back at you, “hey, so I managed to get a babysitting gig tonight.” “Congrats! Try to make sure the kid doesn’t eat too much candy,” you teased. He snorted, “no promises.” You grabbed your stuff and got out of your seat, making some room for Corey to join you at your side as the two of you walked out of the classroom.

“It’s for Mrs. Allen. She needed someone last minute to babysit her kid Jeremy,” he explained, “figured I wasn’t gonna do much besides passing out Halloween candy.” You nodded, “that’s fair, you wanna come over after you’re done? Later I mean.” Corey smiled, “I’d love to. I’ll text you as soon as I’m done.” He looked at the time on his phone, “I should probably head home and get ready to go. She needs me to be there in around 30 minutes.” “Alright, have fun Corey, we’ll talk later,” you said, moving towards the parking lot outside. He waved as you went, watching you go with that goofy grin of his.

You looked back, your gaze lingering on him a bit too long. You wouldn’t tell anyone, let alone him, but you had been harboring a bit of a crush on Corey for a while now. How could you not? He was sweet, caring, and absolutely adorable. You sighed as you started your car, thinking it wasn’t meant to be. Things never worked out in the love department, so you just kept everything to yourself. Besides, what if Corey liked someone else? He told you everything and you hadn’t heard anything about him having a crush. But still, what if? You backed out of your parking space before heading home as the the last light of the day faded away.

You didn’t do much Halloween night, mostly just passing out candy on your porch. You didn’t wear a costume, but you wore a horror movie shirt and called it a night. Maybe if Corey came over you’d wear something else. You let out a small chuckle at the idea of wearing the bustier you had gotten at Spirit Halloween last week, and maybe with a cute skirt. Oh god, no you couldn’t do that. Corey would literally turn into a tomato. But it would be kind of funny.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a text message from your mom.

We need to call.

You gave your mom a call, feeling concerned. She never called you too often. “Hello? Mom?” you asked. “Baby, I- I just got off the phone with Mrs. Cunningham…it’s Corey…he.” Your heart dropped, “he what?”

“He killed a kid. He…killed a kid.”

Your mom didn’t have much information, saying that there was an accident or something when Corey was babysitting. “I don’t think it was on purpose, but they took him down to the station. It doesn’t look good,” your mom continued as you tried to hold yourself back from crying. You barely heard what else she said before goodbyes were said. You hung up, the sobs you had been holding back coming up all at once. You didn’t even notice you had dropped the candy bowl full of candy on the porch. You just knew that you felt awful, like throwing up. All the plans you had for the night were gone.

Once your breakdown was over, you glanced at the ground and saw the candy all strewn about. You quickly dropped down and began picking it all up, dumping it back into the bowl. Once that was done, you went inside and turned off your porch light. You didn’t even bother leaving a note outside saying that there was no more candy.

Halloween was over.