#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

[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!

[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.”

[ntmx8783]

Nakata's Sri Lanka Diary

Title: Nakata's Sri Lanka Diary Author: Nanako Tsujimura Originally Posted: November 26th, 2019 -- First posted in the The Case Files of Jeweler Richard Fanbook

TL under the cut in full. I had a lot of fun translating this one! I hope to translate some other short stories from the fanbook soon too, but it may take a while.

I suddenly have free-time.

Hey, Iggy here.

Just like the title says, I suddenly have some free time in Sri Lanka. The client I was supposed to visit had to go on an urgent trip, so it turns out I have the whole day off.

Since I have the chance to do whatever I want, and my Boss said I couldn’t study, I’d like to ask for your opinions on what I should do. I’m pretty sure there aren’t many people living in Sri Lanka that read this blog so general suggestions are fine too. Whatever you like to do to relax and stuff.

By the way, I usually like to cook when my friend from work visits me here, but I recently realised I don’t really cook for myself. The curry from Sri Lankan restaurants is just too good.

Ely_03 Heya, Iggy! I always have fun reading your blog here in Greece. My daughter is studying abroad in Japan right now so I’m interested in Japanese culture. I’m really happy I’ve found this blog.

1975Hallelujah Are there any nightclubs? Have you tried finding one? Greetings from Egypt!

BB_Typhoon How about cleaning your room? It’s probably surprisingly messy.

Archangel Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Iggy. If you’re in Sri Lanka, I've heard there’s a type of spa called an ‘ayurveda’. Because it’s a cultural aspect you haven’t experienced before, and because you happen to have the day off, wouldn’t you agree it’d be nice to go see what it has to offer?

I found this place online. I think it looks rather pleasant.

[This link can only be seen by site administrators.]

Please take care on your day off.

I went to an ayurveda spa!

Hey, Iggy here!

Thank you for the comments on my last post.

I was super excited to try something new again, so I ended up going to the spa Archangel recommended. Those sorts of places have a bit of a reputation as being somewhere only women go to in my country, but it ended up being so relaxing that I wish I had visited one sooner…

Also, the masseuse there spoke Tamil! I wish I had been able to talk to her a bit more.

I feel really refreshed thanks to you guys.

Well then, until next time!

Archangel Mr. Iggy, there’s truly nothing better than having pleasant days. I consider the most effective method for your studies to be thinking of language and gemstones as two wheels on a bike. By learning about them in tandem, I hope that the study of both will become more enjoyable henceforth.

Punk_Of_England I always have a blast reading about whatever fun thing you’re doing! If there had been a ‘Like!’ button, I’d probably have spammed it by now. Take care of yourself, yeah?

Man, anonymity sure is convenient.

Three-Wheeler

Hey, Iggy here. Sorry for the lack of updates recently.

Does anybody remember the last time I posted, when I mentioned buying a small type of car called a three-wheeler? Well, I’ve become a bit addicted to driving it around lately.

I had a license back in my home country, but I was the type of person that didn’t own a car or bike or anything, so it wasn’t until I rode one of these here that I realised how fun it could be.

The one I have is the version that only has a canopy overhead instead of a roof. Feeling the wind on my face is great!

I drove past the water reservoir and spotted waterfowl on the lake there. Seeing that made me feel really content.

Well, I’m going to go study now. I might even go for a drive in the three-wheeler when I finish. It seems like it’ll be fun!

Archangel Hello, Mr. Iggy. I’m very pleased to hear that you’re enjoying your new vehicle. This may be a bit excessive, but if you’d allow me to express my concerns, I’d like to ask you to be careful while riding. Though it is a great casual vehicle, it is not suitable in preventing crime. What I mean by that is that there are no walls to protect you if an assailant were to come at you from the side while you were stopped. I suspect your senior and your boss have already told you that it’s better not to use a three-wheeler when carrying around valuable items, but please be careful regardless.

Iggy > Reply to: Archangel

Thanks for all your comments. I do recall my boss telling that to someone too…

I don’t carry any valuables when I drive so there’s no need to worry, but I’ll keep that in mind anyway. Thanks again!

Ilovestones I just read the post about buying the three-wheeler. How cute!! I never see those sort of cars in my country, but it looks fun to drive. I bet that’d be super convenient for when you want to check out all the strata near your house or something. I’m so jealous!!

Punk_of_England Man, I feel like peoples’ quirks really come through in their comments even though it’s ‘anonymous’. But I really can’t tell if he doesn’t actually know it’s them, or if he’s just ignoring the fact…

Men in Skirts

Iggy here. Just like the title says, I passed by a ton of men wearing skirts today. I guess it was some sort of traditional clothing? Anyway, it was so colourful and had such a casual look that it really surprised me! I can’t tell if I was staring rudely or not, so if I did, I’m really sorry! It was unintentional!

Archangel > Reply to: Iggy

Mr. Iggy, you are correct, that is a traditional Sri Lankan textile called a ‘sarong’. Please refer to the URL below for more information.

[This link can only be seen by site administrators.]

It is my understanding that they’re used for formal occasions, so I would assume that the group of men you saw were part of a wedding ceremony. Please do not be discouraged if you were staring.

I received a sarong!

Iggy here! First of all, check out this image.

[This image can only be seen by accounts authorised by site administrators.]

It has a red and blue gingham pattern! It’s really nice!

I assumed it would be since the locals wear it, but it’s really breathable and prevents sunburns… and that’s not to mention how easy it is to walk in!

As you can see in the photo, it only reaches to my ankles. But it helps a lot that it’s longer than a Scottish kilt. I was told that these are often worn to weddings, which is awesome, but the best thing about it though is how suited it is to Sri Lanka’s climate. A sarong is definitely better than the bermuda shorts I’ve been wearing.

I received this one from my neighbour, but I like them so much that I plan on buying a couple more.

I probably can’t wear them daily though…

Singhalion Sri Lankan native here. The fact that you’re interested in my country’s traditional wear pleases me greatly. Sarongs have recently become very fashionable to the elite college students, so if you happen to live in a neighbourhood near one, the boutiques nearby will be your best bet in finding another. I hope you continue living a comfortable life.

By the way, I’ve noticed one user leaving a large number of comments. Are you alright? If they become a nuisance, there is a block button you can utilise. Well then, I’ll leave my concerns at that.

Archangel > Reply to: Singhalion

Singhalion, it is nice to meet you (I presume). Please cease saying unjust things about people you haven’t met.

Too Many Sweets

[This image can only be seen by accounts authorised by site administrators.]

I made way too much…

That’s a photo of coconut rolls, pudding, and date caramel.

I obviously can’t eat it all by myself, but my neighbour also refused to take any and got a bit mad, saying it’d be bad for their kid’s teeth… What on earth should I do now…

My Coworker Visited!

The excess sweets didn’t go to waste! Man, that’s lucky. What a crazy coincidence too! I’m really glad though. I wonder what I should make for him the next time he comes to visit.

Please leave a comment if you have any suggestions! Right now I only know about Sri Lankan ‘watalappan’ and the sweets sold at the Otoha Station kiosk. Rolls, cream bread, coconut dango… stuff like that. But even that’s delicious too.

Anyway, please let me know your suggestions!

Archangel Mr. Iggy, I’ve read your posts with great interest. However, I think it’s important not to forget the purpose of your internship. Please use your days in order to improve your skills, mind, body, and soul. For that reason, I believe the type of sweets you should make are the ones you already have skill in making. What do you think?

Singhalion > Reply to: Archangel

Overprotectiveness becomes a vice when taken too far. Haven’t you learned that already?

Archangel > Reply to: Singhalion

Singhalion, please stop speculating on things you know nothing about. You and I know nothing about each other.

Punk_of_England Whew! Things are getting interesting here! I’ll keep watching the events unfold!

Ilovestones Um, can you guys leave it at that? You’re probably bothering Iggy. This is his blog, after all.

Archangel I’ll be more careful in the future.

Singhalion My apologies.

Punk_of_England Sorry!

Mura_Shimo Yo, Iggy! It’s your good friend H.S. here! I came to check out your blog! Man, there’s a lot of comments here, fun! It’s pretty impressive considering you said you didn’t advertise it at all. Is this just part of your natural charm?? We gotta meet up and chat again sometime soon! Let’s catch up!!!

I’ll do my best with guitar practice ‘till then!

Punk_of_England The chance that he was overlooking it just plummeted to zero, didn’t it? Mr. A, are you okay? Or are you seriously gonna stay silent forever?

Archangel I have no idea what I should say, so I am hesitant to comment. Silence may be the safest option.

Archangel_of_Archangel Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Iggy.

I read your entire blog. It looks like you’ve been having a lot of fun, huh? That’s a big relief. Though it wasn’t Sri Lanka, I have experience working in a Southeast Asian country myself, so reading all the fun adventures you’ve had made me remember that time when I was younger, which in turn caused me to laugh and cry. What a wonderfully vivid blog to bring your colourful days to life.

Seeing all the people in the comment section watching over you brings tears to my eyes as well. Speaking of which, is it really true that the commenters have no actual connection to you, and are just watching over you from this blog alone?

> Reply to: Archangel Mr. Archangel, can I speak with you again?

Mail Account:

Sent From: Richard@xxx.uk Sent To: N_Yasuhiro@xxx.jp Message: I will contact you using the regular number.

Sent From: N_Yasuhiro@xxx.jp Sent To: Richard@xxx.uk Message: Understood. Thank you for always looking after my son.

The number of comments decreased?

Hey, Iggy here. Ever since my last post, the people who usually comment seem to have gone quiet… Did I write something weird? I guess this request will also be weird, but if it’s not too much trouble, please go back to being lively. Since I have a lot of times when I’m on my own, reading the comments gives me the energy to keep going.

The city is bustling with preparations for the Perahera Festival. It looks like there’ll be a lot of events happening in the summer! I wonder if I can experience them here too.

Until next time!

Archangel Greetings, Mr. Iggy. I will leave a long comment for you soon.

[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.

[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

[purplesurveys]

1949

Do you want the last dream you had to come true? Not necessarily. It was one of those weirder dreams where people from different areas in your life show up in one scene and say lines that their Real Self would never say – and it would make zero sense in this timeline if it were to happen, lmao.

When did you last talk to the person you’d most wanna talk to right now? Mm around 10 minutes ago, but only through Messenger.

What kind of pill did you last take? Biogesic for my horrrrrrrrrrible migraine 2 weeks ago.

Do you like wearing glasses? I like them; they're the only way I can see haha. I also much prefer glasses than contact lens because I simply don't like putting Anything in my eye whatsoever.

Does your mom know the last person you hung out with? Yeah very much. We've pretty much adoped her into our family the same way hers has always treated me as their own. I wouldn't be her maid of honor + my mom wouldn't have been designated as her godparent in marriage if we were any less close.

What were you doing 4 hours ago? I think I was playing Rhythm Hive while I was (barely) listening to the CDC in the background. I don't really give as much excited attention as I used to since my school hasn't had a podium finish in like 9 years, but I still watch to show my support.

What would you most like to eat right now? Balut tempura. I didn't finish my order of it from lunch and I'm looking forward to having it again later tonight lol.

How long were you last in the car for? Just around 15-20 minutes.

What is something good that happened last weekend? I got two new Koya plushies I found at the mall! :) I also got to pick out my dad's Christmas present. Now to think of the rest of the gifts I still need to give to like 40 other people uuuuuughhhhhhhh

Do you like holding hands or do you think it’s stupid? I do like it. It's just that I never get to do it with anyone anymore.

The last song you heard, what does it make you think of? Nobody other than the artist (Jimin), really. It's one of those songs with lyrics that aren't relevant to me.

How’d you get your last injury? Minor, but Max's scratches.

What do you like about your birthday? The fact that nobody can get mad at me for one day, heh.

Do you like being home alone at night? Sure. It never happens, but I wouldn't mind it if that were suddenly the case. I have the dogs to keep me company + can always order Grab if I go hungry.

What first comes to mind when thinking of 10th grade? So that's like sophomore year, right? Tbh, the first thing I thought of are a couple of sophomore-exclusive classes I took at the time – Asian history and statistics. Everything else about it is a blur; I can't even remember who my best friend at the time was.

What’s the scariest thing that’s happened to you? Two years ago when they found a cyst in my mom. My family has never been open around one another and as expected my parents were extremely secretive about the whole ordeal, so I had no idea what was going on much to my quiet frustration. All I knew to do was to just keep a straight face as the eldest daughter + do whatever my dad asked me to do, like getting my mom's favorite pastries to cheer her up and such.

To this day I'm still not very knowledgeable on the details, and the one time I directly involved myself in the situation was when I visited my mom in the hospital, post-hysterectomy.

Has an ambulance ever came to your house? Nope.

The person you’re thinking about - what are you thinking about them? I'm not thinking about anyone.

When did you last skip class? 2019, I guess? It's the year before the world stopped lol, and is the only reasonable guess.

Do you like the shape of your fingernails? Sure.

Did you look at your fingernails for the question above? No. I already know that I like my nails haha.

Whose pool did you last swim in? I haven't swum in a pool in years lol – the chlorine bothers me.

What’s something you like about your 3rd hour? My what?

Is formspring a good idea? I hated that shit. I never even liked seeing people air their dirty laundry through that website. Just so messy on all fronts, lol.

What’s your biggest problem at the moment? I'm devastatingly desperate for a new job to move to. I hate where I work and it chokes the happiness out of me every day. That's all I'll say because even typing about it now is making me stressed.

When did you last see a police car? Can't really remember.

Why aren’t you doing something more productive than this? I don't have to. It's a Sunday evening and I already worked well into midnight both Friday and Saturday.

How many different cars have you driven? I can think of three.

What did you do on Thursday? Had a stressful day at work + said bye to my sister who at the time was scheduled to fly out to Korea.

What color was the last thing you drank? Light brown.

What do you do on Fridays? Be stressed at work + relax and enjoy once it's evening.

Have you ever had to take desperate measures in a desperate situation? Sure.

What door did you last open besides any on your house or car? Client's office.

[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"

[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.

[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.

[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.

[tiannasfanfic]

Boys of Summer: Part 3

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader (Angst)

Summary: After your family moves away from Evergreen when you were 16, you and Adrian Chase keep passing by each others lives like ships in the night. (Crossposted to AO3)

Rating: Mature

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, no pronouns used. The chapters are getting longer now with each year that passes. Adulthood gets more and more complicated for these two. Assumptions, emotions and thoughts run rampant when left to their own devices. I also switched the rating from Teen up to Mature since we may have smut in a couple of chapters.

CW: Mainly evil brain weasels, angst and emotional turmoil regarding feelings for people. Some heartbreak.

Word Count: 2,163

I never will forget those nights; I wonder if it was a dream. Remember how you made me crazy, remember how I made you scream? I don't understand what happened to our love. But baby when I get you back, I'm gonna show you what I'm made of.

July 2019

When your dad said he was going to move back to Evergreen when he retired, he wasn’t kidding.

Even before his retirement party, he was already browsing houses on Zillow. Within six months, he had bought a house, sold anything he didn’t want to keep and had his house in Phoenix up on the market. Since a moving company was handling everything, you and he drove up to Washington together in his car.

“What do you think?” he asked as you both got out of the car at the new house. “It’s actually a bit bigger than our old house here was.”

“Oh?” you said, looking up at the house as you got out of the car, then over at him. “How much bigger?”

“Fifty square feet,” he said, completely deadpan.

The two of you stared at each other over the top of the car then burst out laughing at the same time.

It was good to be back in Evergreen again. Both times you had been back now felt like coming home. You were definitely appreciative of the cooler summer weather, that was for sure. Since you were unemployed at the moment, you planned to stick around for a few weeks to help out and also consider taking your dad up on his offer of just staying up there with him.

After college, you had finally settled on the NSA and your dad’s old friend secured you a job there. That lasted for about a year. Apparently, the higher ups actually didn’t like that tenacity you had been praised so highly for. They said you had a problem with authority. You said they had a problem with accountability. They disagreed and outvoted you. From then on, with the only plan you ever had dashed, you’d had a few different jobs that never seemed to last long. So, a fresh start in your hometown didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Once you’d recovered from the drive up and helping your dad place all his furniture in their proper spots, you started taking walks around the neighborhood. It was during one of those walks that you realized how close your dad now lived to where the old Chase house was. Just a few streets over, in fact.

One day after the afternoon transitioned into evening, you decided to take a detour on your walk and swing by the house. It didn’t occur to you to think Adrian might still live there, you just wanted to see it. You still hadn’t been able to find him on social media and no one you finally asked had heard from him in years. You just assumed he was long gone at this point since the city was just one big painful memory for him. He really didn’t have a reason to stay in Evergreen.

It was right before dusk when you reached the house. There wasn’t a car in the driveway, and it didn’t look like anyone was home. No one was out in the neighborhood right then, so you didn’t feel weird stopping to look.

Not much had really changed over the years. The flower beds hadn’t been kept up, but Adrian’s mom had started letting them go even before you moved. She had been working two jobs and didn’t have the time. The lawn was still neat and tidy looking though, and the paint still looked good. It made you happy to see whoever owned it now was taking loving care of it.

You smiled as your gaze swept over the front of the house again. The Chase house was the birthplace of some of your fondest memories, despite Gut’s best efforts to sabotage them. Every single backyard camp out ended up with the sprinkler being turned on. Every movie night always ended early with Gut taking over the tv. Every attempt to teach you DND resulted in Gut flipping the basement light off and locking the door. Regardless, you still had fun because you were with Adrian, and he could make the best out of any situation Gut put you two in.

Before anyone could notice you loitering, you decided to continue on with your walk, eventually circling up around the block to head home.

A few days later, you received an offer for an IT job back in Phoenix. You had interviewed for it before coming up to Washington and that finally made up your mind. If that didn’t pan out, then you’d move up with your dad. You wanted to actually try using the degree in the field you studied before giving up entirely.

The night before you left, you couldn’t sleep and decided to go for one last walk. It was a little after 2am, but these were decent neighborhoods. You doubted you’d have any problems.

Rather than your normal path, you found yourself going straight back to Adrian’s old house. This time, the knowledge of where you were going made you sad. This would very likely be the last time you saw the house unless it was by accident. Even if you did end up moving back, you knew holding onto this wasn’t healthy. While you had never let your old feelings hold you back from pursuing meaningful relationships, it felt like you dwelled on Adrian a lot between them. Even during them sometimes if it was an unhealthy relationship, which was unhealthy in itself. You didn’t know if saying goodbye to the house would finally allow you to let go, but you had to try.

Most of the houses on the street were completely dark at this time, making it very dark out. It didn’t help matters any that most of the streetlights were out too, including the ones around Adrian’s old house. While that house was dark too, this time somebody was home. There was a light-colored car parked in the driveway. You definitely had to make this quick then.

Just after you came to a stop in front of the house, an odd feeling came over you. It almost felt like you were being watched though you didn’t feel threatened by it. You turned and carefully looked around. You didn’t see anyone else lurking, but figured you had better hurry this up just in case.

Looking up at the house, you sighed and started talking softly. It was just to yourself, you knew, but saying everything aloud might make you feel better. Sometimes talking to your mom helped when you missed her, maybe it would help this time too.

“Hey Adrian,” you started out, your voice not much louder than a whisper. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Meanwhile, Adrian watched you from the bushes near the side of the house, eyes narrowed with suspicion behind his visor.

He was home a couple of hours earlier than he normally would be, but patrol had been slow that night. Moreover though, he was exhausted. Between working way more hours at his day job from them being short staffed and the already long hours he always pulled with his side gig, he was barely getting any sleep. That was normally the case anyway, but now it was starting to affect both of his jobs. Last night he got stabbed in the shoulder and then this afternoon he broke a few dishes. He decided if he didn’t catch up on sleep now while he had the chance, he might really start messing up.

Tonight’s patrol had been halfhearted from the start. He hadn’t gotten very far away from his house at all, just a few neighborhoods over. On his way home, Adrian cut through several backyards, finally ending up in the backyard of the house across the street from his place. He hopped that fence and had just crossed the street when he saw someone walking in his direction. It didn’t look like they saw him, so he quickly ran to the bushes by the house, ducking out of sight. It took a little bit, but the figure eventually came into view again as they walked along, then they came to a stop halfway down the sidewalk in front of his house.

Now that was curious.

But then curious became alarming when the person actually turned and started staring at the house. Alarm bells instantly went off in his head.

While his first instinct was to overreact and assume the worst in situations like this, like that his secret identity had been discovered, something in his gut urged him to wait. That wasn’t a first, but Adrian was just tired enough he actually listened to it for once.

It was very dark thanks to not having a working streetlight outside. Adrian kept most of them shot out so he could come and go without being seen, but just shooting out the ones around his house alone would have seemed too suspicious. He studied the person as best he could but couldn’t make out anything about them thanks to some baggy clothing and a hoodie. That shielded their body type and gender from view. He could just see enough of their lower face to make out they were talking, but he couldn’t hear them from this distance.

When the person finally turned and continued walking on, Adrian intended to follow them and figure out who it was. But when he took a few steps in that direction, his weak legs reminded him how tired he was. As bad as he hated to admit it, a pursuit wouldn’t be a good idea right now. He was in no condition to fight if it came down to it.

Well. He could, but he didn’t really want to.

As Adrian crept around to the backdoor of his house, it occurred to him that he was far less worried about this little incident than he should be, even with as dead tired as he was. He just caught someone scoping out his house and let them get away. But, at the same time, there had been something familiar about them, though he couldn’t put his finger on what. The way they moved, the way they walked, the way they stood, all of it had been familiar. Even more odd, he found he had been content just watching them. It was as if looking at them was comforting in some way. Even at that distance, whoever it was had put him at ease and no one had been able to put him at ease at all since you left.

That made him start thinking of you as he started stripping off his armor. It had been a while since you crossed Adrian’s mind. When he realized that, he immediately felt bad. The last couple of years had been such a whirlwind, especially with Peacemaker going to prison.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he realized he had lost both of you in much the same way. Quite suddenly and unexpectedly, and both times he found out what happened later. But at least there was still a chance he could see you again. It was a very small chance, but it was still there at least. He would never see Peacemaker again. He was quite sure of that fact.

Who are you kidding? he thought to himself, his inner voice of doubt sounding a lot like his brother these days. You’re never going to see Y/N again either. She’s forgotten you and moved on, remember? You should too.

It was a depressing thought, but a true one.

Two years ago, he had hung around the reunion for an hour before he learned you had left before he got there. No one knew where you had gone though, or where you were staying while you were in town, they just saw you leave with your old friends. Since you bailed so early from this reunion, Adrian doubted you’d be back for any of the others if you were invited. You really didn’t have a reason to come back to Evergreen.

Logically, he knew he shouldn’t be holding on to you like this. While he never let his feelings for you keep him from trying to pursue meaningful relationships, none of his relationships ever panned out well. At this point, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t have panned out with you either and imagining anything else was just a fantasy. Partners always got sick of him in one way or twelve others. You probably would’ve left him too.

Adrian froze while removing one of his boots. That was the moment when he realized something.

That was exactly what you did. You left and he never heard from you again, which meant you had left him.

Now that felt like getting stabbed in the heart.

[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.

[atpaftmoom-bily]

Thoughts about Erik, why Wilhelm wasn't allowed to come out, and more.

Be warned, this is long, confusing, and I'm not even sure if I made any valid points. But I had thoughts on Young Royals, with no one to talk to, so here you go.

I've seen various different takes on Erik and what people thought his reaction would have been if Willie had come out to him, most of them being positive, and some as well saying how sad it was that Willie never got to come out to his brother. I have a different take, but bear with me it's gonna take a second to get there.

Something that I found interesting in the first place was that when August found out it was Simon and not a girl, he just seemed shocked, but not in a homophobic way that I had kind of been expecting.

Additionally, let's take a look at the comments on the video, I've split them up into three different groups. General comments (disbelief, surprise, pity, etc.), comments sexualizing them, and negative comments. (I've translated these as well as I could as they were not all captioned, but if I've made a mistake feel free to let me know!)

General Comments "OMG Have you seen this?? The Prince is gay!!!!" "Who's the other guy?" "I'm dead" "Finally some news to put Sweden on the map!" "Poor boys, I feel sorry for them" "So clumsy to get caught on film" "I know where he lives!" "I think the video is fake" "Love for the boys"

Sexualizing Comments "Royal porn" "Sexy" "Love" "Sexiest video ever"

Negative Comments "How will the monarchy survive this?" "The end of the royal family, time for Sweden to become a republic!" "Never been ashamed about being Swedish until now" "Class traitor! Your mother cries for your sins"

Now, there are quite a few things I want to point out about Sweden that I feel should be taken into account here. Of course, we don't know the exact dates that the show took place, but we do know it is modern-day, and though it is a work of fiction, I am going to assume that anything that is currently true in Sweden at the moment, give or take a few years, would also be true in the Young Royals universe.

The first point I would like to make is that Sweden is one of the most LGBT-friendly countries, even being named the most friendly country in 2019. Looking back in history, 1944 was when Sweden decriminalized sexual relationships between consenting adults of the same sex, though it was still thought to be an illness. However, in 1979 it was no longer considered an illness. Fun unrelated fact, but Sweden was the first country to legalize gender change in 1979. (If you'd like to read more on LGBT rights in Sweden here are some resources. One. Two.) If Sweden is that progressive and is that LGBT-friendly, then I wondered what the problem was with Willie coming out, so I dug some more.

I'm American, so my understanding of many parts of the world is unfortunately skewed or incomplete, but I'm working on changing that. However, because of this, one thing that surprised me in my research was that the monarchy in Sweden is more of a unifying symbol than anything else. They have no political affinity or formal powers, but rather "the King’s duties are mainly of a ceremonial and representative nature." Of course in the case of Young Royals, the Queen inherited the throne, and Wilhelm would after her.

Something else I found interesting about the monarchy in Sweden is that the current Queen, Queen Silvia, did not come from a line of nobility, so when Queen Silvia and King Carl Gustaf married in 1976, it was highly unusual. (See more on the Swedish monarchy here.)

There is one last thing I want to point out about the current King and Queen. "In summer 2000, King Carl XVI Gustaf and Queen Silvia of Sweden made history when they ate under the rainbow flag at Djurgårdsterrassen, a Stockholm restaurant owned by gay owner Arto Winter. At that time, the decision was seen as controversial, and played a valuable role in moving conversations forward – while making the royals’ position abundantly clear." (Source)

Now, of course, I understand the difference between a fictional work and real-life situations, but at least in my opinion, these same ideals should carry through to the show that we see. If the King and Queen in real life have been openly supportive of the LGBT community since at least 2000, then although specifics might not be the same, some of those ideals should carry through to Young Royals, so what is the problem, right?

I'm not trying to erase the reality of homophobia altogether, because of course, that exists. We even see in the show through comments that there are some people who are worried about the state of the monarchy, are disgusted, or downright still think that not being straight is a sin, but we also see other comments as well. If Wilhelm were to come out, what would happen? Would there be some backlash? 100%. Would there be people who would support him? Also 100%. Would it make his life harder? Probably, but would he be happier? In my opinion, yes, but I guess that's a question that Wilhelm would have to gauge on his own.

Now I want to look deeper at the conversation that Wille has with his mother, the Queen, in the car on the way home so he can give a statement to the media. Below is an excerpt from their dialogue.

---

Wilhelm: Why can't I just have a relationship with him? And not say anything. Just live a normal life.

Queen: You're the crown prince. And that's a privilege, not a punishment.

Wilhelm: Yes, but I didn't ask for this!

Queen: Well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this! You are the only one who can take over the throne after Erik. Don't you understand that? You are so young. When you're young, love feels like the most important thing in the whole world. When I was your age, I too had an unfortunate romance. That was before I met your father. What I mean is, is it worth it? If you feel that the attention you've been getting so far is unacceptable, it's nothing compared to what you will endure for the rest of your life. We have a chance to cover this up, I urge you to take that chance. You may not get another."

---

Something I find interesting is how much Willie just wants to live a normal life, which I get. He is under so much pressure, from being a role model, his brother's death that he hasn't even had time to process, preparing to be king someday, and (kind of) being outed to the entire world, but at least his school. It's enough to make anyone want to live normally. I think the biggest thing we have to think about here is the Queen's question as well. Is it worth it? She is right of course, the attention he will get will always be there, but I do think that Willie would be able to find a way to be happy along with being King. It shouldn't have to be a case of either-or, and ultimately I don't think it is.

Now I'm going to move back to Erik, and really, this ties everything back to the start where I mentioned I had a different take on Erik's reaction to Willie being not straight. I think that Erik already knew. It would make sense for a variety of reasons. In the show, it is obvious that the two of them have a good relationship. We also hear Erik tell Willie, "you can trust him, he's like a brother," in episode one when speaking about August, showing that trust is something strong between them as brothers. I'm not exactly sure how old Wilhelm is meant to be in the show, but I estimate somewhere around sixteen. I would like to assume that sometime before attending Hillerska, he may have had a crush or felt some attraction to a guy. We also can see from their phone call in episode three, that they're not afraid to joke around with each other about such things, meaning that Erik would most likely be the first person that Willie would go to about such things.

Another thing that makes me believe Erik already knew has to do with people assuming that Simon is the first guy that Willie has liked. Now, I know things are not the same for everyone, but if we consider what happens when the video is posted, and Willie had to deny it is him, we can conclude that being anything other than straight in their family is not okay, simply because they are royals, and the media attention will be too much. Imagine you've known your whole life, you can't be something, the first instance you encounter that, you're probably not going to give in right away. I'm talking at least some minor internalized homophobia here or something.

So put that into the context of Simon and Willie's first kiss in episode two. Simon kisses Willie twice before Willie says "Well, I'm not... I'm not... Stop! Wait, wait, wait!" and immediately pulls Simon back towards him. Let's reflect back to episode one where Willie says "I’m not… I’m not allowed to speak about political issues." I'm not allowed. Of course, there are TONS of restrictions on what he can and can not do, kissing guys, probably being one of them. But if he was going to say I'm not gay or I'm not like that, why would he instantly pull him back in, contrasting what he was just going to say. In episode three, Willie does say, "I'm not like that," which makes sense. He's had time to think and isn't in the heat of the moment. What other explanation can he give? Sure, he could say he's not allowed to be like that but saying that would admit that he is. It's a circle, a very messy circle, but it is a... loop.

Going back to what I'm supposed to be talking about here, Erik. This isn't Willie's first rodeo, but Erik was there for the first. One last thing I want to talk about is the phone call that Erik and Willie have in episode three. Below is an excerpt from their dialogue.

---

Erik: You've met someone.

Wilhelm: I, uh... Yes, okay, but I... I don't think we're a couple or anything. I don't know what it is but can we just...

Erik: I get it. I get it. You don't have to tell me any... I don't wanna hear any details. Hey. Willie, enjoy yourself. Soon enough people will start having opinions and-

Wilhelm: They don't care about me. 'Cause you're the Crown Prince that they have opinions.

Erik: I don't get it. Why are you sitting in your room sulking when you have a crush to hang out with?

---

Firstly, Erik refers to Willie's crush as completely gender-neutral. "You've met someone" could very easily be "you've met a girl". The same goes for "you have a crush to hang out with". Very well could have been "you have a girl to hang out with". Sure, it could be completely coincidental, but we live in such a heteronormative society that it would just make sense for Erik to use female-gendered words. Unless, of course, he knew.

Secondly, "Hey. Willie, enjoy yourself. Soon enough people will start having opinions". This sounds very much to me like, enjoy your time while you can be yourself without backlash because soon you won't have that privacy. While I feel that, yes, the same may happen with anyone Willie was to date, him having a same-sex partner multiplies that, by a lot.

In conclusion, Erik knew Willie was not straight, Willie should come out, but when he is ready, and August is a really deep character that people don't give enough credit to. Gosh, I hope I covered everything, I probably forgot so much, but it's fine. Please let me know your thoughts if you've made it this far into the post.

One last thing. I hope you'll notice how in this post, I never referred specifically to Wilhelm's sexuality, and I did that for a reason. I often see gay used to label him, and though I am unsure if that's being used as an umbrella term or specifically as in he only likes men, I think it's really important to realize that they're specifically making him unlabeled. In this youtube video Edvin Ryding, the actor who plays Wilhelm, says "What we're trying to do... We're not labeling Wilhelm's sexuality. I think that's good because it's like, it portrays that it's okay that way too. You don't have to. You shouldn't have to come out. It should be allowed to be a bit fluid, a bit out there." I just think that it is important as it's another type of representation that is not seen often.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Plank All Over Me - 72 Questions With Vogue Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Plank All Over Me Series Masterlist

Regular Masterlist

“Hi. I’m here from Vogue. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Oh, hey. Didn’t see you there.” You flirtatiously flipped your perfectly curled hair over your shoulder and winked at the camera. “Come on in.”

You walked inside your house, and gestured for the camera man to follow. In preparation for the interview, you and Tom had gotten out every award you’d ever won and strategically placed them around the house. You smiled at the camera and rubbed your hand over your growing baby bump.

“Welcome to my crib. Sorry it’s such a mess.” You rolled your eyes and faked a laugh, knowing the house was far from being a mess. You kept walking and saw Tom in the living room, polishing on of his awards with a feather duster.

“Oh my stars.” You feigned a gasp once you spotted Tom. “Is that my husband, the critically acclaimed movie star and Lip-sync battle winner, Tom Holland? I had no idea he was home.” You winked at the camera again.

“Oh, hello.” Tom stopped dusting and posed with a smile. “Don’t mind me. I was just cleaning this.”

“Might want to give that a dusting too.” You pointed to one of your awards before sending the camera another huge smile.

“Are you guys ready to answer some questions?” The camera guy asked.

“I was born ready.” Tom concurred with a smile.

“You were a C section baby.” You reminded him. “You weren’t even born.”

“I was removed ready.” He kept the same tone in his voice.

“Where did you meet?” The camera man asked as you and Tom began to walk towards your backyard.

“We met at BBC Radio 1 while doing the Plank All Over Me challenge.” Tom answered.

“Where was your first date?”

“Cracker Barrel.” You winked at the camera as you opened your back door. Tom laughed and shook his head at your joke.

“It was not. We got milkshakes at an Ice Cream Shop in Soho.” He corrected you.

“Who made the first move?”

“Why, he did.” You touched a hand to your heart. “He found me after the planking challenge, both our arms sore and aching, and asked me out on a date. We’ve been together ever since.”

“When you did you move in together?”

“About six months into the relationship when I realized she had a bigger bathroom than me.” Tom answered as he took a seat in one of your decorative deck chairs.

“How long have you been together?”

“Since September 29, 2019 at precisely 6:33 p.m.” You responded.

“Wow. Just a year?”

“Realistically, we’ve been together for a few years, but that’s when this series was first posted.” You shrugged. Tom and the camera blinked in confusion for a few minutes as they processed what you said.

“Moving on.” The camera man cleared his throat. “Tom, how did you pick an engagement ring?”

“I went into the shop and I said “which is the least expensive because I’m trying to buy a Porsche” and that’s how she ended up with this bad boy.” Tom smirked as he held up your hand to show off your engagement ring.

“I can’t wait to tell our baby that story.” You played along as you rubbed your baby bump.

“When did you know you wanted to propose?”

“As soon as she started whining because the planking was hurting her arms, I knew she was the one.” Tom joked.

“Did you know he was going to propose?”

“Surprisingly, no.” You laughed. “It’s the one secret he’s ever kept.

“I nearly got an ulcer from trying to keep it from her.” Tom blew out a breath.

“Who planned the majority of the wedding?”

“I did.” You declared. “I had to text Tom the morning of the wedding to remind him where the venue was.”

“Did either of you cry?”

“As soon as I mentioned the yoga challenge in my vows, the whole room was sobbing.” Tom teased.

“How big was the reception?”

“Let’s just say, we had all the Avengers there.” Tom nodded.

“All the important ones, anyway.” You joked. “Mackie couldn’t make it.”

“How did you spend your honeymoon?”

“We went to Bali and didn’t see any of it.” Tom smirked, earning a playful smack on the arm from you.

“What’s been your favorite video together?”

“I loved the prank with Josh.” You answered with a smile.

“I didn’t.” Tom shook his head. “I nearly threw hands with a ginger that day. I quite liked the friendship test.”

“What video gave you the fondest memories?”

“Spill your Guts, for sure. That’s when I learned about the existence of this one.” Tom beamed as he rubbed your baby bump.

“What was your least favorite video to film?”

“We already know Tom’s answer.” You chuckled.

“Prank interview.” He stated. “To this day, I hate it.”

“Did you see yourself getting married when you first met?”

“All I saw were the nose hairs in Tom’s nostrils when we first met.” You laughed. “After all, he did plank on me for six and a half minutes.”

“I had a feeling we would.” Tom smiled shyly. “Or a hope, at least.”

You pouted at his sincerity and leaned forward to kiss him, which his happily accepted.

“Have you thought of baby names?”

“Josh.” You answered immediately and Tom groaned.

“I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes. “I really like the name Ryan Reynolds though.”

”What are you hoping for?”

“An oscar.” Tom answered at the same time you said “A divorce.”

“You already want a divorce?” The camera man laughed.

“Oh, not a divorce from Tom.” You assured him. “I want Ryan Reynolds to divorce Blake Lively so he can marry me instead.” You explained as Tom nodded along.

“And I want to die every time she says that.” He cracked a smile.

“Let’s get back to the baby questions.” The camera man said as you began to move around the yard. “Do you know the gender?”

“We do.” Tom said deviously. “But we’re not telling.”

“Do you think the baby will be more like their mother or their father?”

“Definitely me.” You stated.

“Why are you so sure?”

“Because Tom’s not the father.” You smiled sweetly. Tom stared at the camera with an unamused expression and shook his head.

“Who’s going to be the fun parent?”

“Considering I’m the parent who can swing from buildings, I say me.” Tom boasted.

“Who’s going to teach the baby how to read?”

“I am. And after the baby learns, they can teach Tom.” You smiled as you patted Tom’s shoulder.

“Do you think the baby will like to plank?”

“If they’re anything like their mommy, no.” Tom poked fun at you.

“And if they’re anything like their daddy, they’ll grow up to play the Green Lantern.” You shot back.

“Hahahah. She’s so funny.” Tom forced a laugh at your joke.

“Do you think the baby will develop your senses of humor?”

“Wait, you have a sense of humor?” You asked Tom. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“She loves me so much, it’s crazy.” Tom deadpanned towards the camera.

“Do you want the baby to grow up to be an actor or actress like you guys?”

“I just want the baby to be happy.” Tom gave a serious answer. “Every thing else will fall into place on its own.”

“That’s a great answer. Do you think you’ll post about the baby a lot of keep them out of the spotlight for the first few years of their life?”

“I think we’ll wait until they’re at least 4 months old until we exploit them for our own financial gain.” You said and Tom nodded along.

“Have you picked out the godparents yet?”

“Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal.” You joked. “They’re so excited. Jake said he would take the baby fishing.”

“He’s taken me fishing a few times.” Tom said as he stared off.

“How have you been preparing for the baby?”

“Well, I personally stopped sleeping, changed my whole diet, started lactating, and my pelvic bone separated in the middle so that I could push the baby out. Tom, what did you do?” You tilted your head at him.

“I bought the car seat.” Tom said proudly. “My wife picked it out, though.”

“I also drove him there.” You glared at the camera for a moment, cracking a smile after your joke.

“What are you most looking forward to after the baby is born?”

“Laying on my stomach.” You laughed as you looked down at your protruding bump.

“I also miss laying on her stomach.” Tom pouted as he rubbed the bump. “That was my favorite cuddle position.”

“Aw. I’m sorry we can’t cuddle the way you want to anymore because I’m growing your child inside my body.” You said sarcastically, making Tom laugh.

“Thank you for growing our child inside your body. I don’t say it enough.” Tom praised as he leaned in for a kiss.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at him before turning to the camera man. “Anything else you want to know?”

“Actually, I have a question.” Tom stated as he looked at the camera.

“What’s that?” The camera man asked. You and Tom looked at each other and exchanged a smile before turning back the the camera.

“Are you excited to meet our baby girl?”

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