#bon appetit chat

[imagination-confusion]

Listen-

Listen. Is this that Smiling Critter Friends show everyone's been talking about?

[jaarijani]

Her name is Stephanie...

[coffebits]

i wanna give your scifi ganon a big smooch he's so !

JSKKDKD I mean, I don’t blame you 😂 *inserts that Flynn Rider scene*

[bridgertonbabe]

Bridgerton Group Chat AU - The Darkest Timeline

As a thank you to both @silverhallow and @holybatgirlz for writing hilarious pieces inspired by the Group Chat AU, I have written this entirely ludicrous and outlandishly batshit drabble for the series. This is an extremely over the top and completely far-reaching out of the realm of reality insight into what might happen in the darkest of timelines of this AU if the Bridgertons were to ever truly take a game night way way way too far.

Entirely based and inspired by this clip from Community following the events of study group's own chaotic game night:

"To Phil." Simon slurred as he raised his half-drunken bottle of vodka. "May he rest in Phil."

There was a pause as he processed what he had just said before he snorted and cackled, and then proceeded to pour out some of his vodka onto the floor by his chair.

"Simon, don't you think you've have enough?" Kate remarked with a wrinkled brow of concern as she watched her inebriated brother-in-law across from her.

"Of you." Simon instantly threw back.

Kate gasped from the offence made against her as Simon knocked back another mouthful from his bottle, all the while maintaining a pointed resentment-filled glare at her as he drank.

"Guys, I've been thinking about that night over and over." Penelope piped up. "One thing has become clear; this is the darkest most terrible timeline."

"Enough with the timeline crap, Pen!" Kate exclaimed.

Though she had endured the most amount of years faithfully attending Bridgerton game nights and knowing full well all the horrors that were bound to unravel and occur, ever since that night Penelope had well and truly cracked. She hadn't cried nor grieved nor shown any ounce of emotion since that fateful night, instead her brain had rewired itself (as a form of coping mechanism) to narrow in on the semantics of that evening as she obsessively tried to think up every alternate timeline that might have occurred had she interfered at numerous points of that night. Every time the rest of the spouses had seen her since all she had been capable of speaking of were alternative trajectories stemming from that night as well as fervently mentioning the odds and probabilities of the events playing out the way in which they infamously had.

"Phil had a heart attack and dropped down dead!" Kate hysterically reminded Penelope. "Simon's a drunk, Lucy's locked in a mental ward because her guilt drove her insane, Michael lost an arm in the fire," - she gestured to Michael sat beside her, who in turn emotionlessly (his merry persona now long gone) gestured with his only arm to where his other arm should have been - "Gareth lost his larynx because for some dumb reason he tried to destroy a flaming troll doll by eating it-"

"Clearly you don't understand anything about defeating trolls." Gareth's electrolarynx-powered voice interjected.

"Our spouses are all either dead or in prison, our children all got taken away by social services, and now the doctors have pronounced Sophie's practically brain-dead and that it's up to us whether to pull the plug on her!"

The last five remaining spouses all looked to the bed they were sitting around where Sophie lay comatose amongst a sea of tubes and wires keeping her alive, the beeping of her heart rate monitor and the machine pumping oxygen into her filling the momentary silence in the room.

"Life has gone to hell, Penelope! This is real!" Kate cried with the despairing hope of trying to get her sister-in-law to touch back in with reality. "Look at us! Look at me!"

"Kate." Michael uttered in a low voice, unable to look at her. "You put one wash-away blue streak in your hair - and I lost an arm." he stated in as tempered and controlled a voice as he could muster, as he finally turned to look her in the eye.

"Exactly." Kate nodded back at him. "Life got dark."

"And all because Michael rolled a one." Penelope said.

"Oh I love how this is all my fault somehow." Michael replied, his voice inflected with growing exasperation.

"It's mine." Penelope shook her head dismissively. "I've run through that night over and over in my head and I keep coming back to one thought; I should have caught the die and not let you roll it. That's the exact moment I've pinpointed all of the chain of events from that night stemming from. I failed to do that and we all suffered for it. But I'm going to make it all up to you."

Penelope then put down the pair of scissors she had been using and picked up the black pieces of felt she had been fixatedly working on since they had convened in Sophie's hospital room. She then distributed each of the pieces to her remaining fellow spouses, each of them receiving them with curious expressions.

"What is this?" Michael deadpanned after examining the cut out black felt piece he had just been handed.

"Of all the timelines this is clearly the darkest which is why I propose we commit to being evil." Penelope explained matter-of-factly. "I've made us all black goatees out of felt, I suggest you put them on until you're able to grow your own." she advised in all seriousness.

While Michael turned the fake goatee over in his hand, his eyes narrowing in on it with every passing second, Simon simply slipped the goatee onto the neck of his bottle before swigging from it once more.

"From now on, I am Evil Penelope." Penelope declared after putting on her fake goatee. "We are the Evil League of Bridgerton Spouses and we have but one evil goal; return somehow to the prime timeline - the one that I stopped you from rolling that die - then we destroy the good versions of ourselves and we claim our proper lives."

Kate and Michael looked at Penelope blankly before their attention was drawn to Simon whimpering across from them as he looked to Sophie's lifeless figure.

"It should have been me." Simon wept. "I should have been the one who got hit simultaneously by the firetruck and ambulance from both sides... I'm so jealous!" he cried out and waved his bottle about, spilling some of the contents over Sophie's bedding.

"Simon, don't say that!" Kate spluttered. "Everything about that night was godawful and should never have happened in the first place-"

"The darkest timeline." Penelope breathed under her breath in reiteration.

"-and there was nothing we could have done to save poor Sophie!"

"Evil Pen; as Evil Michael am I allowed to pull fewer punches with everyone?" Michael addressed his obsessive sister-in-law in a low voice brimming with a deep resentment that none of the other in-laws picked up on.

"Certainly." Penelope nodded.

"I hate you!" Michael exploded. "I hate you all! I hate the stupid fucking family we all married into! I hate your stupid sci-fi crap!" he barked at Penelope. "I hate you for standing back and letting the rest of us foolishly marry in one by one so you weren't alone being married into that wretched family of monsters!" he shot at Simon, who shrugged uncaringly and carried on necking back his vodka. "I hate your stupid fucking electrolarynx!"

"Rude." Gareth's robotic voice retorted.

"But I hate you most of fucking all!" Michael turned on Kate, much to her incredulous chagrin. "You who enabled, encouraged, and exacerbated the Bridgertons in their heinously insane competitive ways! You who were just as bad, if not even worse than some of them when it came to those stupid fucking games! You who Sophie was chasing to try and save from going back into the raging inferno when she got hit by the emergency vehicles because you were crazed enough to insist that if you counted up all your cards you could prove you had won!"

"But I did! I did win!" Kate retaliated, her maddening competitive glint returning to her sharpening gaze in spite of everything that had befallen them all.

"Sophie is on her deathbed because of you!" Michael yelled, his voice breaking with long-amounted incandescent rage.

"Well maybe if she wasn't so desperate to prevent me from proving just how badly she had lost-"

"That's it!" Michael screamed and jumped to his feet. "I can't take this anymore! I'm filing a restraining order against each and every one of you! I want nothing more to do with any of you! With any of this!"

With that Michael stormed out, flinging the door open with his one remaining arm and slamming it emphatically after him.

"Hey!" Kate leapt up, tearing the door open, and followed after him. "It's a group decision to pull the plug on Sophie - you don't get out of it that easily!" she called out as she marched after Michael's retreating footsteps.

A crash within the room then brought Penelope and Gareth's attention to where Simon had just passed out from all the alcohol he had consumed, having fallen out of his chair and into some of the machines keeping Sophie alive, his bottle crashing on impact and sending glass shards across the floor.

Gareth then turned to share a look with Penelope - and that's when she noticed that he too was wearing one of her black felt goatees. There was a shared nod of agreement as they both mutually decided on the path they were about to embark on

"Evil Pen and Evil Gareth!" they both chanted; and thus began the new Evil Chapter of their lives.

[fenixseraph]

Vinesauce Vinny and the Cinnabortion

I got a wonderful commission from @ri2xe to draw this hilarious parody comic of Vinny Vinesauce and his cinnamon roll abomination in the style of the Great British Bakeoff.

Parody reference and further context for the cinnabortion underneath the cut:

[pompadourpink]

Literal French expressions

À deux - at two

À la + n. - in the style of

À la carte - at the menu

À la mode - in fashion

Amateur - lover

Après-ski - after skying

À propos - about

Armoire - wardrobe

Art nouveau - new art

Au naturel - plain

Au pair - at the peer

Auteur - author

Avant-garde - before guard

Bête noire - black beast

Blasé - jaded

Bon appétit - good appetite

Bon voyage - good journey

Boutique - shop

Buffet - credenza

Bureau - office

Canapé - couch

Carte blanche - white card

C'est la vie - that's life

Chauffeur - warmer (n.)

Chef - leader

Cliché - picture

Clique - gang

Connaisseur - "knower"

Coup d'état - blow of state

Coup de grâce - blow of mercy

Coup de foudre - blow of lightning

Couture - sewing (n.)

Cul-de-sac - ass of the bag

Début - beginning

Débutante - beginner

Déjà-vu - already seen

Dénouement - untying

Dossier - file

Double entendre - double hear

... du jour - of the day

Eau de toilette - washing water

Eau de vie - life water

Encore - again

Ennui - boredom

En route - in road

Ensemble - together

Entourage - people surrounding you

Entrepreneur - starter (n.)

Essai - attempt

Esprit de l'escalier - spirit of the stairs

Étiquette - label

Exposé - exposed

Façade - frontage

Faux pas - fake step

Femme fatale - deadly woman

Film noir - black movie

Fin de siècle - end of century

Flâneur - "stroller"

Femme - woman

Folie à deux - madness at two

Foyer - fireplace, home

Gamine - female kid (casual)

Gauche - left

Gendarme - person of weapons

Je ne sais quoi - I don't know what

Laissez-faire - let (someone) do (imperative)

Laissez-passer - let (someone) pass

L'appel du vide - the call of the void

Lingerie - underwear

Maître d' - master o'

Mardi gras - fat Tuesday

Matinée - morning

Ménage à trois - household at three

Mon/ma chéri-e - my cherished

Montage - mounting

Motif - pattern

Mural - on the wall (adj.)

Né-e - born

Négligé - neglected

Nom de plume - feather name

Parole - word

Petite - small (adj.)

Pied-à-terre - foot on land

Poilu - hairy

Pot pourri - rotten pot

Pourboire - for drink

Première - first

Prêt-à-manger - ready to eat

Protégé - protected

Renaissance - rebirth

Rendez-vous - appointment

Répertoire - directory

Résumé - summary

Risqué - risked

Robe - dress

Rouge - red

RSVP - answer please

Sans-culottes - without pantaloons

Savant - "knower" (n.)

Savoir-faire - know how to do (v.)

Savoir-vivre - know how to live

Séance - session

Soirée - evening

Souvenir - memory

Suite - sequel, development

Surveillance - careful watching

Tête-à-tête - head to head

Touché - touched

Tour - circuit

Trompe-l'oeil - cheats the eye

Venue - came

Vignette - sticker, label

Vis-à-vis - face to face

Voyeur - "seer"

Ballet vocabulary:

Allongé - laid down

Balancé - swinged

Balançoire - swing (n.)

Battu - battered

Brisé - broken

Chassé - chased

Chaînés - chained

Ciseaux - scissors

Coupé - cut

Dégagé - cleared

Développé - developed

Échappé - escaped

En cloche - in bell

En croix - in cross

Entrechat - between braid

En pointe - in tip

Failli - almost did

Fouetté - whipped

Glissade - sliding

Plié - bent

Jeté - thrown

Manège - carousel

Pas de bourrée - drunk step

Pas de chat - cat step

Pas de cheval - horse step

Pas de deux - step of two

Pas de valse - waltz step

Penché - leaned

Piqué - pricked

Port de bras - carry of arms

Relevé - lifted back up

Renversé - titled, bent backwards

Retiré - removed

Rond de jambe - leg circle

Temps de flèche - arrow time Tendu - stretched

Temps lié - linked time

Tombé - fallen

Tour en l'air - turn in the air

Kitchen vocabulary:

Amuse-bouche - mouth entertainer

Bain-Marie - Mary bath

Café au lait - milky coffee

Casserole - pot

Cordon bleu - blue ribbon

Crème brûlée - burnt cream

Crème de la crème - cream of the cream

Crème fraîche - fresh cream

Croissant - crescent

Éclair - lightning

Entrée - entrance

Filet mignon - cute net

Flambé - blazed

Foie gras - fat liver

Fondant - melting

Fondue - melted

Gourmet - foodie

Hors d'oeuvre - out of the work

Légume - vegetable

Liqueur - liquid

Mille-feuille - thousand leaf

Mousse - foam

Pâté - pasted

Roux - redhead(ed)

Sauté - jumped

Sautoir - "jumper"

Soufflé - blown

Velouté - velvety

Fanmail - masterlist (2016-) - archives - hire me - reviews (2020-) - Drive

[scuderiasundays]

trophy boyfriend

summary: a high school reunion with a special appearance by yours truly

words: 809

a/n: my first and most likely last drabble. the product of my latest dreams and delusions. bon appetit 👩🏻‍🍳

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” You wondered why no one had thought to mention how painstakingly slow time passes when you’re doing the opposite. You had graduated high school seven years ago and to say that you had drifted from your friends would be an understatement. The daily updates about everything from dorm room decor to upcoming deadlines had withered down to annual “Happy birthday! Hope you’re doing well.” texts. This is why it came as such a surprise when an invitation for a class reunion showed up in your inbox. 

“It looks like they’re planning a high school reunion now that the pandemic has settled down. I won’t be going, of course.” You casually brought up the topic over dinner with Carlos, your boyfriend of three years. Life was busy enough as it was, and this was one of those rare nights you had him all to yourself. No late-night cramming for you and no post-race briefings for him. You couldn’t help but wonder how you got so lucky to end up with the doe-eyed Spaniard sitting opposite you. Carlos had devoted the whole evening to making his signature burgers, only pausing for the occasional dance break with Piñon. 

“You know what? I think you should go.” The uneasy look on your face was enough for him to reach across the table to hold your hand. “Hey, look at me. No one knows what you’ve been up to and you’ve come so far.” Carlos was right about you disappearing off the face of the earth. You kept a low profile on all social media platforms, preferring to keep your inner circle small. The only people who knew where you were at any given moment were your mom, Carlos, and your study group at medical school. The shift to online classes during the pandemic had allowed you to follow your boyfriend from race to race but you had somehow managed to stay out of the public eye. You treasured what the two of you had, a love that was just yours. 

It took a walk to the gelato shop and Carlos running you a hot bath with bubbles to finally convince you to go. It just so happened that the reunion was happening on a Sunday. “It would’ve been more fun with you by my side. I could’ve introduced you as my trophy boyfriend.” You joke, mentally calculating the travel time between the venue and the circuit. “I’ll see what I can do, amor.” He says, giving you a kiss goodnight before turning out the lights.

Sunday came and your eyes were glued to your phone screen as you checked Carlos’ location on the “Find My” app. It was obvious you were using your phone as an escape from interacting with the crowd slowly gathering in front of you. “Hi! We didn’t even think you’d show up, Y/N. We’re all dying to know what you’ve been up to!” You heard a shrill voice approach you from behind and immediately knew it belonged to the former class president. You chatted back and forth, slowly dying inside as you were bombarded with questions from left and right. 

You had gone to an all-girls school, and it wasn't long before the topic of significant others came up. "Are you seeing anyone? What line of work are they in? Medicine? Finance, maybe?"  You hadn’t prepared for this one: “He works with cars.” That was all your frazzled brain could muster. “Oh, a mechanic! Give me his number. I need to get my car detailed,” someone said. Way to jump to conclusions, you thought as you politely excused yourself from the hustle and bustle. 

You were walking back to rejoin the crowd when you noticed everyone gathered around the only man in the room. He appeared to be holding up a gleaming, gold trophy, truly captivating his devoted audience. “No, it can’t be,” you thought as you edged closer. You could hardly believe your eyes but there he was in all his glory. “Lots of driving for one day but it looks like I made it just in time.” Carlos says, lighting up the room with his infectious charm. 

A million selfies and autographs later, you were being driven home in Carlos’ 812 Competizione. Carlos’ hand lay softly on your thigh as you leaned into the breeze seeping through the car’s open window. 

“I realized something tonight, Carlos. I don’t need emotional validation from people I hardly know anymore. None of them would be crazy enough to fight post-race pain and fatigue just to make me happy. You, my love, are all that matters.” It all comes out like word vomit, but you mean every single word. He takes a quick glance at you and chuckles. “Te quiero tanto. It was my honor being your literal trophy boyfriend, even if it was just for the night.” 

[kittyball23]

Homecoming (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: As a teenage Branch gathers supplies, he hears a familiar tune of his past playing at a certain pink tween princess's birthday party

A/N: Taking place before TBT

__________________________________________

Branch scowled.

All of them - every single one of them out there, dancing till their legs would give out on them and singing till their voices got sore - was a fool.

It seemed to him now that almost every party that happened in Pop Village was progressively getting bigger, louder, and crazier. And one day, it was going to be the inevitable demise of the town they created away from the treacherous creatures who wanted to eat them.

The Bergens are coming! AHHH!

They’d all thought he was the crazy one whenever he burst in screaming about the dangers they were blind to, hoping they would get a wakeup call and side with him.

But nobody ever did.

Branch clenched his fists, gripping the sticks he was holding tighter. This whole shindig was surefire Bergen bait. That banner hanging up in the trees may as well be reading HERE WE ARE! BON APPETIT!

But, it didn’t. The banner that was there instead read HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRINCESS POPPY!

From his vantage point up higher than the clearing that was below, he could see everything that was happening to celebrate the future Queen’s occasion. Balloons of all colors had been blown up and were strung at the corners of a large table in which Trolls had been placing presents on. Accumulated there already were at least two dozen, big, small, wide and short with fun wrapping paper designs of stars and sparkles. Much of the adults who attended were chatting idly with each other, while the kids were playing games and busting out some moves to the music that was playing on the boombox.

Branch spotted Princess Poppy almost instantly in the crowd. She was always so distinguishable, not only by her pink color scheme, but also by her perky, peppy attitude. He never saw her without a smile on her face. It was as though that was the only expression she knew how to make, as she laughed and sang with her friends.

He snorted. He’d known about this party for weeks. Months even. While he wasn’t involved in the town’s happenings and barely interacted with anybody (aside from a grumble at any greeting that was sent his way), he had heard the talk buzzing around about it whenever he went to go gather supplies. Poppy herself had invited him to it. She was chipper, grinning at him from ear to ear and presenting the invitation, which, as it always did, shot out its burst of glitter in his face after a little jingle rang out. That invitation should be long gone, torn and rotting in the garbage by now. But, it was in fact sitting behind a curtain in his room, secretly hidden away from the eyes and ears of anybody, along with a collection of many other identical invitations that she’d given him for a variety of different occasions.

Suddenly, a strange feeling overcame him as he thought about those invitations, and the parties that he’d missed. Would it have been so bad if he had attended one of them? There was a time, Branch could remember, in his memory where he would’ve accepted. If things had been different, maybe he could be there right now, celebrating alongside her.

Maybe ALL of us could have been friends…

Branch shook his head, frowning and pushing those ridiculous what-if scenarios out of his mind and refusing to address who the ‘All’ was by individual name.

But it seemed that the universe didn’t want him to brush it off so easily.

Right as Branch turned to start making his way out of there with his bundle of sticks, he heard Party Rock Anthem conclude, and an all-too familiar tune take its place.

“Da-da, da-da-da, 

Da-da-da, da-da-da…”

Several things happened at once. Poppy and a number of her girl friends squealed a scream, the party’s DJ turned up the volume of the song a few notches, and Branch’s blood ran cold.

Oh, please, no. Not this song….

“Well, there she goes! On the floor let’s do this no more talking,

Did anybody notice? The energy just shifted when we dropped it!”

Poppy sang along, grabbing her friends - Cooper, Smidge, Satin and Chenille, as Branch remembered that they were called - and going through the dance moves with close accuracy to the way it was meant to be performed.

“I don’t flex but I might,

Groove about you take flight,

Cuz’ the night is young and the music’s on,

And we got love on sight!”

Another one of Poppy’s friends added their voice to the sing-along, and Branch rolled his eyes when he saw who it was.

“The sky was the limit,

Now the stars where we’re living,

It’s the vibe when we’re in it,

It’ll blow your mind!”

Creek, in truth, was not as great of a singer as he thought he was. The others didn’t seem to think so, though, and applauded him.

“Oh, I just looove BroZone SO MUCH!” Poppy gushed when the song got to its chorus. “I wonder what The Baby’s voice sounds like now…” She hummed, tapping a finger to her chin as if trying to picture it.

Branch’s guess would be as good as hers on behalf of that question, despite the fact that he himself had been ‘The Baby’ of BroZone. But he was far gone from the little Troll who used to dance around in diapers and pink-tinted glasses. In fact, no musical note had ever come out of his throat for many, many years. This last part the Trolls of the village knew. But the first part, about his band days and the boys he had once called his brothers, were as much of a secret as Poppy’s hidden invitations.

Smidge shrugged. “Who knows! I wish I knew where they all went off to,” she sighed in her gruff little voice.

“Same here!” Satin and Chenille said at the same time. Then the former turned to the latter and asked, “Chenille, remember when you used to write letters to the ‘Win a Date with Spruce’ contest even though they no longer do it?”

“Satin!” the fashionista twin exclaimed, shoving her sister on the arm while blushing. “I told you not to mention that!”

“Well, it’s true!” Satin giggled.

Chenille, in an effort to change the subject, turned her attention to Poppy. “Say, Poppy, who was your favorite BroZone guy?”

Cooper, Biggie and Guy Diamond all piped up, also eager to know.

“Hey, that’s a good question!” Cooper chimed.

“WhOooOo was your favorite?” Guy Diamond asked in his techno-reverby voice.

“Mr. Dinkles is dying to find out!” Biggie said, holding up his pet worm, Mr. Dinkles, who gave a little squeaky “mew!” in reply.

Branch had to perk an ear at this, his curiosity piqued for what the Pop Princess had to say.

Poppy blushed a little, thinking carefully about her answer.

“Well, um… hehe… The, um, Leader’s kinda cute…”

John Dory? Branch snorted. His huge head is full of nothing but hot air!

“But you know,” Poppy continued, her cheeks darkening, “so is Spruce.”

Spruce? Pfft. Yeah, sure. Cute until he cheats on you, Branch thought, recalling how his second eldest brother always seemed to have a new girlfriend each week.

“Oh, but Clay always had the best dances!” she giggled, imitating the most well-known “Rusty Robot” move.

Clay’s a player. He’d make it seem like things are handy-dandy, and then the next day he’ll dump you and say it was just a joke all along!

“And don’t get me started on Floyd!”

HA. Don’t get ME started, either, he thought bitterly, subconsciously fingering the leaf vest he was wearing. It was still a little bit big on him, but, once he was a couple years older and underwent the growth spurt that seemed to hit most of the older teenage Trolls, he was sure it would fit just fine. He suddenly remembered the words that his favorite brother had told him many years back.

When you miss me, you can wear this. It’ll be like I’m right here with you.

Well, Branch could see that that wasn’t exactly the truth. Having Floyd there in person was not the same as wearing a vest that only carried his memory. He then thought of another untruth he was told, on the very same night.

I’ll be back. I promise.

But WHEN, Floyd? Branch wished he would’ve asked right there and then. It’d already been over a decade since then. He needed his favorite brother’s comfort more than ever, especially when their Grandma had suffered her death at the hands of a Bergen. Then another thought crept into his mind.

Did he forget about me?

It hurt Branch to think so, but it was a possibility. If Floyd was really out there, enjoying his best life and riding the high of the solo career he’d always wanted, then what use was there in leaving that behind to come back for a little brother who would just be in the way?

He wouldn’t.

That’s why it didn’t bother Branch at knowing that he broke a promise to his brother as well.

And when you come back, we’ll build our hideout!

Branch humphed. If he wasn’t coming back, then there was no need to feel guilty that the hideout was already in progress.

He gathered his sticks and hurried off, not bothering to hear the rest of the conversation. Creek was saying something to Poppy, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him, a hand of his on her shoulder. Branch set his jaw, firmly clenching the sticks and finally stormed off.

__________________________________________

After about a half hour, the sticks had been whittled into six identical dagger-like weapons, added into his basket of other dagger-like weapons. Then, per Branch’s usual routine in the evening - before he went on to eat his dinner - he made his way over to the side of his bed, plucked the feather duster that was leaning against the wall, and made his way over to the only rooms in the bunker that were not stashed to the brim with supplies.

At first glance, it would seem as though Branch had four spare bedrooms intended for guests. But Branch was not one to have company over, so that possibility would be ruled out. And the folks who would be staying in them anyhow would not be guests. They would be permanent residents.

That is, if those said brothers ever returned.

Branch looked down at the arm that was holding the featherduster, scrutinizing its grayness. Ever since the day he’d lost his vibrant blue color, his outlook in life had never been the same. Optimism was never something he had anymore. But Branch also obtained something else that became a part of his personality that day, too. And that was the initiative to always remain crazy-prepared.

Room by room he went, tidying the spaces, ensuring that the beds had crisp sheets and fresh linen, that the photo frames on the wall were straightened, and that each instrument of their interest was cleansed. John Dory’s drumset was wiped down. Spruce’s saxophone was polished to perfection. Clay’s keyboard was rubbed till it shone. And Floyd's guitar was tuned and set, ready for action.

Branch sighed, almost feeling himself get teary-eyed. He was just about the ages of his brothers when the band had split. By this point, he’d figured he would have had his very own blue puffy jacket, and that the only thing he would have to worry about is getting over his preshow jitters.

But, nooo.

Branch sat here, waiting for something that may not happen. That little part of him was going to still fight for hope, though. Despite his parents gone, his brothers who-knew-where, his Grandma dead, his colors vanished, and his crush unrequited, Branch had to press on.

Someday, if the homecoming ever were to happen, Branch would not be caught off guard. He took out the plan for his hideout from the inner pocket of his vest. It was a little bit worn from the years, yellowed and slightly wrinkled, but still very visible. His three-year-old vision depicted in colorful blocky lettering and a handful of glitter had finally become a reality.

Now all he had to do was wait for them to come back into his life.

[goosewriting]

Class is now in session

summary: reader is in university and starts taking a liking to a certain redhead.

relationship: college AU biker!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: cameo fest, mentions of alcohol, cal punches a guy, idiots in love 😩💞, gets a lil spicy at the end 🫣 this might border on crack tbh

word count: 11k because i am deranged

A/N: this started out as an innocent college AU with jock!Cal, but my insta feed brought me back to the depths of biker guys x booktok girlies so this idea cemented itself into my brain and i just ran with it. this is 100% self-indulgent, packed with every trope i could think of, and got completely out of hand. i am not sorry. bon appetit :) 

[all masterlists] 🪶 [star wars masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

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A/N2: please excuse the pacing at the start, it's a bit of a mess. but i promise it gets better! also i use college and university interchangeably here because i’ve personally only been to uni, so sorry if it's confusing ;;-;;

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As you’re leaving your first class at the new college, you think back to orientation week where you met Sabine. She’s the only one you know here now, other than Ahsoka, a friend from your home town who’s come to this university too for her masters. You have no idea how, but Ahsoka somehow managed to have you move in after her roomate left, so that you now share the flat, which you’re super happy about. At least one thing (or person) less to worry about.

In the class that just finished, you sat with Sabine, and she introduced you to Ezra, her friend from high school. So that’s now two people you at least know by name here. 

You hurry to get to your next class which is basically across campus in one of the bigger auditoriums, and it’s the biggest class by far. Sabine and Ezra don’t attend this one, so you don’t know anyone here. You look around as you cross into the room, observing how the students swarm in in waves, quickly taking their seats. Walking down to the middle row, you quickly scan the group, thinking who seems approachable to eventually start chatting. 

The class goes by rather quickly, being the first one and all, it was more about formalities than actual content. Someone had arrived just on time as the professor also walked in, a redhead that caught your eye, but the moment the class was over, he left quickly. In fact everyone leaves quickly, and you can’t help but be dragged along by the mass of people and you find yourself in the hallway, which just as quickly as it filled, is empty once more.

For lunch you meet with Sabine and Ezra, and you all get to know each other a little better. At first you thought they might be dating, judging by how close they seem, but they never mention it during your meal. If Sabine is willing to have boy talk with you, you make a mental note to ask her about it at some point.

In the afternoon, you start your job at the library. A tall and elegant woman, Shaak Ti, shows you the ropes, and soon you’re left to your own devices at the desk, doing some smaller tasks to get you started. Not soon after, Ahsoka comes by for a quick visit to say hi.

Your shift is almost over when someone comes up to the check-out desk where you sit. You hear them approaching, and as you lift your eyes from your work, you recognise it’s the redhead from today’s class. Putting on your best customer support smile and voice, you ask how you can help, and he says that the self check-out machine isn't working. 

How strange, you think, remembering how Shaak Ti showed you earlier how it works, and it did so just fine. But it’s quicker to just ring up his book now, and you could check the machine later. So you take the two books from him as well as his student ID and scan everything, doing your thing. You see his name on the ID: Cal Kestis. So that's what he's called. Maybe if you meet in class again, you could say hi. It would be super awkward if he didn't recognise you, though. 

Shaking away your thoughts for the moment, you repeat to him what Shaak Ti told you earlier about the borrowing of materials, the e-mail notice and that he can check the return date on his university account. Taking his books and card, Cal thanks you with a smile and leaves. Standing up from the desk after a moment, you go to the self check-out machine to see what’s wrong with it, trying to remember if Shaak Ti gave you the number for the technician. You try out the process several times with a random book and your ID and it works perfectly. Strange, you think again. 

By the time you get back to your dorm, which is a short bus ride away from campus, it’s already evening. You enter your room, grimacing a bit at how empty and lifeless it still looks. But you know you’ll be quick to decorate it and fill the space with your things to make it feel a bit more like home, albeit a temporary one.

Arriving at uni the next day, you get off the bus and walk towards the building. A motor bike passes you and parks in the designated area, your eyes unintentionally following the person, and you check them out a bit. The whole outfit, leather jacket and all, do look good, and you stare for perhaps a second too long. When the person takes off the helmet, you realise it’s the redhead from yesterday. He catches you looking at him and gives you an acknowledging nod and smile. Your head immediately turns the other way, cheeks burning at getting caught, and you walk away hastily, knowing this interaction will haunt you for the rest of the day since you could have just smiled or waved back instead of being so obvious. 

Back in the big class, he spots you again and gives a short wave and an unsure smile. This time you make sure to smile and wave back at him.

After lunch with Sabine, you’re at your locker, picking up some things, talking to her and Ezra who joined you as well. They both suddenly look over your shoulder behind you, and you turn around only to be faced with him.

“Seems like I keep seeing you everywhere,” Cal says, leaning sideways onto the lockers. “I think it’s time we finally get properly introduced, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that he exchanges a look with Ezra, which you can’t really decipher, as you don’t know either of them well enough.  

“I’m Cal,” he introduces himself. “But I think you already knew that.”

You tell him your name, and as Ezra joins the conversation, it turns out they’re actually friends. 

“So how do you know him?” Sabine asks, her eyes going from Cal to you.

“ We share a class, and he came by the library yesterday,” you explain, taking a look at the time. “Which I actually should be heading to now. My shift starts soon.” 

Sabine gives you a strange knowing look too, to which you don’t know how to respond. But before you can ask what’s up, she says that Ezra and her have another class, so they leave.

Cal walks you to the library, claiming he has to go to practice and it’s on the way (its not). It’s a short walk but you’re racking your brain for something to fill up the silence. Unable to come up with anything better, you tell him that if he wants to check out another book, you can show him how to use the self check-out machine. 

“You said it was broken,” you say, tilting your head slightly in confusion. “But I checked and it worked just fine.”

“I know,” he responds after a second, and you turn to him with a ‘Huh?’. Smiling, he adds, “See you around.” 

And with that he leaves you by the library entrance, even more question marks circling in your mind. To your surprise and further confusion, you find that he didn’t leave you with just questions, but also a bit of a racing heart.

Finally the weekend rolls around, and Ahsoka is out with her best friend Rex and his buddies, so you invite Sabine over for a movie marathon and lots of snacks. Since it’s just the first week of class, you don’t have that many assignments yet, which you want to take advantage of while you can. 

As you’re both cosied up on the couch, you ask her about Ezra and if there’s anything between the two, and her face makes you laugh out loud. She says he’s more like a brother to her, since they’ve known each other for so long. But then she asks if there’s anyone you’re interested in.

You find yourself stumbling over your own words and end up somehow confessing to both her and your surprise, that you may have a teeny tiny crush on Cal. Sabine’s almost too excited about it and says you should tell Ezra so they can set you up on a date or something. But you make her promise she won’t tell either of them, to which she ends up agreeing. You don’t need the drama or the distraction; you just want to focus on classwork after all and survive one semester at a time. 

On Monday you have the big class again, and you stay after it’s done to ask Professor Kenobi something. Everyone is leaving the room, and he’s packing away his things as you approach his desk, starting to formulate your inquiries, but you see his eyes going past you for a moment, then looking at you again with a soft smile. 

“Why don’t you send your questions to my e-mail,” he offers. “Isn’t it your lunch break now? Wouldn’t want to hold you off, especially when there seems to be someone waiting for you.”

You blink a couple of times, then turn to look to the entrance door where, sure enough, Cal is waiting for you, leaning back onto the wall. He gives a short wave, which you quickly reciprocate, and you excuse yourself from the professor with heat prickling at your cheeks, telling him that you will do just that. 

As you reach the door, Cal pushes himself off the wall to walk beside you. Before you can ask him what he’s up to and why he waited for you, he talks first. 

“Are you eating at the cafeteria today? Wanna grab lunch together?”

You consider his offer for a moment, but then give him a short shrug.

“I’m not really super hungry and the menu today didn't have anything that I particularly crave, so I think I’ll just get something from the vending machine.”

“You sure? You shoudln’t skip meals, you know.”

“It’s fine, really,” you chuckle. “I’ll just get early dinner and I promise to eat something substantial.” “Yeah, you better,” he jokes, lightly pushing you with his shoulder.

Turning your face away to hide how flustered you’re getting at not just his playfulness but the fact that he waited for you, you reprimand yourself for a moment for getting your hopes up. Wanting to grab lunch with a classmate is normal! This is normal! Stop being weird, you tell yourself.

Just as you want to face Cal again to change the subject, you hear some voices from the hallway around the corner where the vending machines are. You think you recognise them, and you don’t know what on Earth compels you to, but you walk the few steps to take a peek. At the end of the hall, you see Professor Kenobi with a man. He’s tan, has broad shoulders and is very handsome. 

“Hello, my love,” Kenobi says in a low voice barely audible to you, and quickly leans in to kiss the stranger.

Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth before any sound of surprise can come out, and you quickly spin around, directly into Cal’s chest with an oomph.

“Wha–” Cal holds onto your shoulders to keep you from falling with how quickly you tried to recoil. “Whoa there, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I feel like I just saw something I wasn’t supposed to,” you admit, hiding your face in your hands for a moment, then looking at him with big eyes.

This intrigues him, and Cal steps past you to take a look. 

“There’s no one there…?”

You look around the corner again as well, and the hallway is indeed empty.

“Prof Kenobi was just there a second ago, with someone else. Kissing,” you add the last part under your breath. 

“Oh?” Cal raises a brow, sounding strangely interested. “Well, let’s go see where they went.”

You shoot him an alarmed look.

“What? Why?”

But he’s already walking, looking over his shoulder and gesturing for you to follow with a playful smile. So you follow suit. You’ve never been to this part of the building, and compared to the bustle back where there were constant streams of people walking to and out of the cafeteria, here it’s surprisingly quiet. 

“I wonder where they even went,” Cal thinks aloud and stops where the hallway ends in a dead end. There’s several doors to the left, offices from the psychology faculty judging by the signs next to the doorframe. On the right there’s the big door leading to the staircase. There’s a paper sign stuck to it with tape that catches your attention, so you step closer to read it.

“Seems like the floors below are currently closed off because of repairs,” you paraphrase the warning sign. “So they must have gone up.”

You turn to look at him, and see realisation wash over his face, which quickly changes into a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, is that where we are.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him in suspicion. 

“I heard that there was an off-limits floor in this wing. It’s been like that for years actually, not because they’re reparing something but because strange things happen there.”

You scoff, giving him an incredulous look.

“Didn’t take you for the superstitious type,” you deadpan. 

“I’m not.” He looks at the sign and back at you. “But c’mon, aren’t you a little curious? They say it’s haunted, but if you go there and come back out, then you’ll have good luck in… passing your exams.”

“...Did you just make that up?” you question, crossing your arms over your chest defensively and raising a brow at him. 

“...No?” Cal retorts, and it’s anything but convincing. Taking a step closer to you, he adds, “Come on, don’t you feel the call of adventure?”

“The only call you’ll feel is your emtpy stomach when you’re training,” you say, taking one last glance at the big door, then looking at Cal. “Shouldn’t you be having lunch right now?”

“I can eat later,” he shrugs. 

“I thought skipping meals was a no-no.”

“I can make an exception today. For both of us.”

Before you even have a chance to stop him, he pushes open the door to the staircase, and you see there’s a chain blocking the way to the stairs leading down, but he steps over it, looking back and offering his hand to you. 

You look up, listening for anyone who might be coming downstairs, but it’s still silent. Almost eerily so. You look at Cal’s face for a moment, and sigh in defeat, taking his expecting hand. He grins in victory. 

“You’re being a horrible influence, you know that?” you say with a playful smile.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little bad every now and then,” he points out with a wink, and you roll your eyes at him to hide the beat your heart just skipped. 

You both walk down the stairs, taking out your phones to use as a flashlight since it’s so dark. Cal pushes open the big door to the main hallway, and you’re hit with the typical smell of a basement; it’s humid and a little musky, but not necessarily unpleasant. You take a look around, and it’s a mirror of the floor above. The doors to the offices are open though, one is even missing the door completely, and Cal walks in without hesitation, so you follow him. 

You’re not normally one to get scared about things like these, especially knowing that the haunted story has probably started as a rumour that got way out of hand throughout the years. This section probably just got closed off because of a water leak or something. 

“One of the guys on the team told me that there used to be meetings of a secret cult down here.”

“Okay, now you’re just messing with me,” you laugh, and you point your light to him to see him. He blocks the light from his eyes with his hand but you can see the goofy smile on his face. 

“I can’t believe I followed you down here,” you say, taking a step towards him, but something behind him catches your attention. You direct your light to the wall, and he turns around to do the same. There’s a pinboard full of old notes and photographs. Looking at the small table underneath it, you can see a lot of the things that once hung on the wall have since fallen down, decaying. Inspecting the remaining notes on the pinboard though, you notice that there are many that seem newer, the papers are clearer, crisp, untouched by the humidity down here. Many of them are simply just letters and numbers, like… initials and dates? You’re about to take a closer look at what’s written on them when a reflection from the table catches your eye.

Directing your light down onto the table, you move away some scattered papers to reveal the object that was partially hidden beneath: a locket in the shape of a heart. You stretch out your hand to pick it up but Cal stops you.

“Maybe- maybe don’t touch that.”

“Why not?” you ask without looking up. You can faintly make out the engraved letters “P&A” on the metallic surface.  

“It could have lead. Or something.”

“That’s… a good point, actually,” you agree, and you retrieve your hand, your nose crinkling slightly in disgust at what could be lying around. “It’s the first time you’ve made sense since we got here. Who knows what else is here. Actually, we should leave–” You turn to where Cal was standing earlier, a couple of steps away, but you find him standing right in front of you now, caging you in between himself and the table behind you. He’s still holding his phone with the light aiming up, so his face is contoured in sharp white, highlighting the scars across his face. You had noticed them before, and thought they added character to his face. But now, with his eyes gazing into yours like that, momentarily flickering down to your lips and back up, you feel the urge to reach out and trace over them.

The air has completely shifted between you two, and your heartbeat quickens at the realisation. His free hand has somehow found its way around your wrist, and he’s leaning in closer ever so slowly.

You open your mouth to say something but you’re cut short by a sudden thud. You both flinch in surprise, aiming your lights to where the sound came from. You see a book, now on the floor, that hadn’t been there before, and a small cloud of dust settling around it. Aiming the light a little to the side and up, you can clearly see the spot where it fell out of the shelf, as there’s no dust on the wooden surface. 

“We should– I think we’ve overstayed our welcome,” you say after clearing your throat.

“Right.”

You quickly step around Cal and head for the staircase, swiftly walking up the steps and, after momentarily listening for any bypassers, climb over the chain. Cal follows closely, and you both pocket away your phones. You’re reaching out your hand to open the heavy door that leads back into the building, when he quickly grabs your wrist, holding your shoulder with his other hand to pull you away from the thin vertical window next to the door.

“Wait, there’s someone out there.”

“So what, we could have come from upstairs,” you say, trying to ignore the way your skin tingles where he’s holding you again.

He peeks through the glass, his eyes going wide for a moment, then stepping away again, a silly smile playing on his lips.

“It’s Kenobi. And he's not alone.”

You dare take a peek through the glass, and catch a quick look at Kenobi and the man from earlier, both coming out of one of the offices with slightly dishevelled hair. 

“If he sees us, we’re so dead,” you say under your breath and lean back away, out of view. On one hand, you’d definitely be in trouble because from the short time you’ve known him, Professor Kenobi seems like the type of person to be really good at reading others, so he’d definitely know you two were up to no good if he confronted you two, especially you; you’re not a good liar. But also he saw Cal waiting for you after class, so surely he’d think something was going on between you two. Then again, would that bother you? Is there something going on between you and Cal? Do you want there to be something? You’re not entirely ready yet to answer that for yourself, especially not right now after what happened earlier, whatever that was. He was totally going to kiss you, right? In a basement of all places?

“The coast is clear,” Cal finally says, and your reeling mind can come to a halt again. He looks down at where his hand is still holding onto you, and quickly lets go, taking a step back, clearing his throat. “Sorry about that. Uh, after you.”

He holds the door open for you, and you walk through, dusting off your clothes of anything that may trace you back to the forbidden underground. Cal makes his way to the office he saw Kenobi come out of and inspects the sign, chuckling to himself.

“Ah, look at that,” he says, and you approach, seeing the name on the sign: ‘Cody Kenobi’. So the man earlier was his husband. 

“Get it prof, I guess,” you mutter more to yourself than to him, but Cal snorts at your comment.

“C’mon, let’s go,” he says, and you two make your way back to where you initially came from. 

Since Cal still has to get food, you part ways and he heads to the cafeteria. And just like that, you’re back at the vending machine, yet again plagued by the decision of what to get, as well as a million questions racing through your mind.

When your shift at the library ends that day, it’s already the late afternoon. It was pretty slow today again, you mainly just spent your time cataloging some new books and putting back returned ones to their respective spots.

As you’re approaching the bus stop, you can see the bus already there, so you fall into a light jog to catch up on time. Except that everyone is standing outside instead of being inside the bus. The driver is standing on the sidewalk as well, talking on the phone in an irritated tone.

“What happened?” you ask one of the people sitting on the bench.

“The bus broke down,” she explains with a tired sigh, pointing to where the engine door has been lifted, and you can see some faint smoke coming out of the vents. “The driver said we have to wait for the next bus.”

You don’t need to look at the timetable to know that at this time of day, the busses get more and more infrequent. You might as well walk home. It won’t necessarily be quicker than waiting for the next one, but you don’t want to just sit still for the next half hour. 

After saying your thanks to the person, you keep walking down the sidewalk to start your trek home. Luckily, there’s a pedestrian path away from the street that is actually quite picturesque to walk, partially going through the woods too, so at least you’ll have a nice view as you ruminate over the day’s events.

To get to the path leading into the forest, you take a shortcut through the parking lot, which to your surprise is not as empty as you would have imagined at this time. You’re not really planning on running into anyone, already lost in thought, so it takes you very much by suprise when you hear your name called out. You turn around to see Cal standing by his bike, waving to you. You wave back with a smile, which is quick to disappear though as you remember your interaction earlier. You just want to get home to crawl into your bed and wallow in self-pity for a bit, but the redhead calls you to him.

“I saw the bus broke down,” he says as you get closer, zipping up his leather jacket and tucking his helmet under his arm. “Need a ride home?”

No, you think, being near you is short circuiting my brain and I need to sort that out.

“I’ve never been on a bike before, though,” comes out of your mouth instead. 

“Well, lucky for you I’d be the one driving,” he says with a smile. “As a backpack you just have to lean into the curves, but there’s not much more than that.”

“Backpack?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s what we call the person sitting behind the driver.” You spot the faintest of blushes creeping onto his face, adorning his freckles. “So, what do you say?”

His face, full of expectation, leaning into childish glee almost, is impossible to resist. Heaving a sigh, you laugh a bit to yourself, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“You know what. Why not. We already went to a haunted room today, might as well get ‘riding on a motorbike’ off my bucket list today, too.”

“Great!” Cal’s face lights up at your positive response, and he seems to notice it and clears his throat to take his excitement down a notch. He moves to the side a bit so you can take a better look at the bike, telling you its name is BD-1, and doing the whole introduction thing where he points to you, then to the bike and back, saying your name, BD, BD, your name. You have to bite back a smile at how endearing you find that. After what happened today, it’s nice to see that he also has this cute side to him. Playing along, you greet the bike with a ‘Hi BD!’ and pat the handlebar as if it was a dog. Cal chuckles, and produces a second helmet seemingly out of thin air, presenting it to you.

“Wha– Where did you–”

“A biker never reveals his secrets,” he says with a wink, and puts on his own helmet. Your grips tightens lightly on the one you’re now holding as you avert your gaze from his visor. This guy will absolutely be the end of you.

Cal helps you put on the helmet, adjusting the buckle strap underneath your chin and making sure it’s comfortable but not too loose. Turning to the bike, he folds down some pegs on either side of the back wheel, indicating that that’s where you’re going to put your feet, then he gets on first.

“Once you’re on, you can either hold onto me or place your hands here–,” he shows you, patting the round, elevated part of the bike in front of him. “– on the tank.” 

Then he instructs you to hop on by placing one foot first to lift yourself off the ground and swing your other leg over. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you do just that, tightening the straps on your own backpack (pun unintended) so it doesn’t move around once you’ll be on the move. You scoot in your seat a couple of times until you feel your balance settle.

“You good?” he asks, and you realise you’ll surely have a hard time hearing him once you’re driving, over the sound of the engine and the wind.

“Yup!” you reply, taking a shuddering breath that seems to resonate within your helmet, as you snake your arms around his waist, interlocking your fingers.

You feel his torso tense up ever so slightly at the touch, and he kicks up the stand. 

“If I pat your leg it means to hold on tighter, okay?”

“Got it,” you confirm, and he tests it out by patting the outside of your knee twice, and you lean even more into him, if that’s possible, tightening your grip. You just hear him chuckle, then start the engine. 

He makes a round or two on the parking lot so you can get used to the feeling, and once you feel more comfortable, he heads out onto the street.

As you’ve already mentioned at some point that you live at the dorms, he knows where to take you. You can tell he’s riding extra carefully, not zooming through in-between cars and making sure that the stops and starts at the traffic lights are smooth.

Because of the noise and the helmets, having a conversation is unfortunately impossible, so you just enjoy the sensations. The whistle of the wind rushing by you, the humming of the engine, which you can feel in your whole body, both through the bike itself and Cal. The way he taps your leg when you loosen your grip without noticing. At least it was on accident the first time. After some minutes you tried it again, slowly letting go, and his gloved hand was on your leg again, lingering this time until you held on properly. Then he placed his hand over both of yours, giving a light squeeze. Ah, did he catch on? 

Alas, the ride is already over by the time you feel like you really mastered being a proper backpack, and the bike slows down as Cal drives into the street of your apartment complex. 

Once he fully stops and kicks down the stand, he gives your arms a pat, indiciating for you to hop off. Misjudging the height and being slightly sore from the unfamiliar seating position, you don’t properly step onto the ground, your knee giving in and the rest of your body threatening to follow. But Cal is quick to catch you and bring you back to your feet without even having gotten off completely himself.

“You alright?” he asks, sliding off the seat completely, then taking off his helmet and running his hand through his hair. His red fiery hair, now messed up from the helmet… You really want to run your own fingers through it. 

At your lack of response, he leans a bit closer into your visor, repeating the question. You snap out of your trance with a sheepish laugh, trying and failing to undo the buckle on the helmet strap. Cal takes off his gloves and skillfully opens it, helping you remove the thing. You don’t even want to know what your hair looks like right now, so you try your best to smooth it out blindly. 

“I’m good, yes. Guess getting on is easier than getting off the bike.”

“It gets easier with practice,” he responds. “That is, if you ever want to ride again. You can. I mean with me. If you’d like.”

He looks around, the driveway is luckily empty, so no one can see him embarrass himself by stumbling over his own words. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you; he’s too cute.

“I’d love to, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course. You did good today.”

You look in the direction of your dorm, then down at the helmet you’re still holding.

“Guess you need this back, then.”

“I don’t have any way to carry it right now, so why don’t you hold onto that for now,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back a bit to half sit on the side of the bike. “Besides, the bus might break down again. Why don’t I give you a ride to class tomorrow morning, too?”

By now your heartrate is absolutely out of control. How does he look so effortlessly cool? And he’s inviting you to ride again? Maybe more than once? 

You involuntarily hug the helmet to your chest, hoping the sound of your erratic hearbeat doesn’t echo through it and make it loud enough for Cal to hear. Taking out his phone, he suggests exchanging numbers so you can text him when to pick you up and he can tell you when he’s on his way. Taking it from his hands, you type in your number and call, hearing your own ringtone coming from your pocket, and give it back. You don’t see what he types in as your contact name as he’s quick about it, putting the device away again.

“See you tomorrow, then,” you say, swaying back and forth lightly on the ball of your feet. “Thank you for taking me home. It was fun.”

“My pleasure,” he says with a genuine smile. “And don’t forget your substantial dinner.”

With that, he puts on his helmet. As he gets onto the bike and kicks back the stand, you consider running up to him one last time to place a kiss on his helmet, but you find yourself paralysed by… what exactly, you don’t know.

“Drive safe!” you call out to him instead with a wave, as he drives onto the street. He gives you a two finger salute, tires screeching on the pavement as he takes off. Yeah, he was definitely being considerate of you when you were on the bike. 

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud and being pulled down by a gravity tenfold as strong, all at the same time. You’re clearly into him. It seems he’s interested as well. What’s holding you back? These and many other questions roam your brain as you try to fall asleep that night.

The next morning, as promised, Cal is waiting for you. This time he brings a proper biker jacket as well, which is padded in the important places. Where he got it from and how he knows your size, you don’t even bother asking, knowing he wouldn’t tell.

Despite the buses working just fine, form that day on it becomes somewhat of a routine. Whenever your schedules will allow it, he’ll take you to class and back home. You offer paying for gas since going by your place is out of his way, even though he insists it isn’t. He never takes you up on your offer.

Weeks go by in the blink of an eye, both of you getting more comfortable around each other, engaging in friendly banter bordering in flirtations, but never really crossing the line or making an actual move. Before you know it, exams are just around the corner, so the library is busy. Still, you manage to study in the slower hours. But you keep catching yourself looking at the entrance, waiting for a certain someone to walk in. 

After exams are over, Sabine and Ezra organise a well deserved party at her place. Her family is away for the weekend, but they were okay with a party as long as it doesn’t get out of hand. Ahsoka also invites a handful of her friends so there’s a decent amount of people of different ages. You have friendly chats with many of them, who also give you good tips on studying,  the best places to get coffee near uni, or tell you funny stories about the teachers. 

The party is where you meet Anakin and Padme, Ahsoka’s best friends aside from Rex, who are more or less the power couple at the university. They’ve been together since the first year and everyone knows about them. Even you have heard a lot about them; there are some wild rumours around. But you’re seeing them for the first time now, and you can’t shake the feeling that they look familiar. 

As you, Sabine, Ahsoka and the two are standing in the kitchen, sipping on your drinks, the conversation somehow flows into urban legend territory. That’s where Padme tells you and Sabine about the lovebird legend, saying that there is an off-limits room in the uni building where it is said that a couple died tragically as the ceiling came down on them. 

“Despite the tragedy, the legends still make people go down there to leave their pictures and love notes,” Padme explains. 

“Alleged tragedy,” Anakin interjects with a playful roll of his eyes. “If something had actually happened down there, they would close it off properly.” He turns to you as he sees your blank expression, which he interprets as being scared, and gives you a reassuring pat on the back. “Nothing happened down there, trust me.”

Except that your face went blank not out of fear, but because you finally connected the dots.

“Yeah, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Padme reminisces, linking her arm onto Anakin’s, who looks down at her with an adoring smile. “Even we went down to leave our own note, remember? And it seems it worked.”

“How could I forget,” Anakin laughs. “Initials, picture, locket; we did the whole package.”

The locket you saw that day in the basement comes to your mind. The engraved initials: P & A. 

Padme and Anakin.

And now you can also vaguely recognise their younger selves in one of the pictures you see on the wall.

Snapping back into reality, you look at Anakin.

“Is this… common knowledge?” you ask, fidgeting with the drink in your hands. “Does everyone know that’s what it is? Or are there some people who think it’s haunted?”

“Not really?” Anakin shrugs. “I don’t know of anyone who’s ever thought it was actually haunted. Again, the accident is just a rumour to make it more tragic.”

“Yeah, everyone who hears about the story knows people go there hoping to ensure a good love life,” Padme confirms.

“Huh, is that so…” you trail off, heat quickly rising to your face, visible to everyone no doubt, but you can’t be bothered to hide it right now. So Cal knew? He must have known, right? 

Sabine elbows you into the side, almost making you spill your drink. 

“What’s got you so flustered suddenly?” She narrows her eyes at you, full of mischief. “Don’t tell me, you want to go leave a note for you and you know who?”

That seems to get you out of your trance, and your head snaps back up, frantically looking around to make sure Cal isn’t anywhere near you two. But he’s actually nowhere to be seen, probably outside with his team buddies who are hogging the grill.

“Do you still need to leave a note when you’ve already been there with the person in question?” you ask at no one in particular, and Ahsoka exchanges a knowing look with Anakin and Padme.

“You what?!” Sabine whisper-screams. “How? When?”

“Uuh, a couple of weeks ago,” you say, suddenly remembering the other thing you saw that day. “Also, did you know Kenobi is married? And that his husband is part of the psychology department? They totally made out in the husband’s office.”

Sabine’s face morphs into several different things consecutively, first confusion at why you’re bringing that up now, then questioning why you even know that, then wondering if she even wants to know. 

“You know,” Padme interjects. “Obi-Wan and Cody Kenobi were actually one of the first ever couples to leave their note in the basement. If they’re still together, then it really must work, huh.” She leans in ever so slightly, lowering her voice as she asks you, “Why, is there anyone you’re interested in? Someone who wouldn’t happen to be here right now?”

You pull a bit of a grimace and look to Ahsoka, who had followed the whole thing with amusement but without intervening. Seeing your pleading look, she nods, indicating that Padme is trustworthy with these kind of things. 

“Yes, actually,” you reply in a small voice. “To both.”

Padme clasps her hands together in delight, asking if you’ll show her the person in question. Anakin just laughs, saying he’ll go find something to eat, and Ahsoka joins him. So it’s just you, Padme and Sabine left. You walk around for a while until you find your favourite redhead leaning on the open doorframe that leads to the yard, talking to one of his teammates. They’re all wearing their team jackets, and you can’t help your eyes roaming his body for a moment, enjoying the view. 

As if he could feel your eyes on him, he suddenly turns his head to you, and you get caught yet again staring. But this time you don’t look away in shame, you stand your ground and give him a smile and a small wave, which he returns, then goes back to his conversation as if nothing happened.

You turn back to the girls, both of them giving you a knowing smile and little giggles. 

“Oh, shut up, you.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Sabine says. 

“Your face said it all.”

“Yeah, as did yours,” she teases. 

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You might as well be on actual fire right now, as hot as you feel. 

“I’m getting another drink,” you say, pinching Sabine in the cheek and looking to Padme. “Please make sure she doesn’t embarrass me any further.”

Padme laughs but agrees, promising to keep an eye on her.

You walk to the kitchen, where a new group of people has claimed the space to have their conversation. You quickly refill your cup, excusing yourself from them with a polite nod, and leave through the other door, looking for a way outside to get some fresh air. But you find yourself in what seems to be the dining room. This house is so big, I think I might actually get lost here, you think, looking around for another exit. 

You turn on your heels when a guy, evidently drunk, approaches you. Givng him a quick once over, you find that you don’t recognise him. While this was a closed invitation party, unfortunately there’s always the few people who think it’s okay to just bring another buddy along who also brings their friend, leading to a handful of people that no one really invited or even knows. This is one of them. 

You intend to walk past him, but he takes a side step to block your path. Taking a quick step back to have some distance between you and him, you try the other side, but again he cuts you off.

“Can you let me through?”

“What are you doing here all alone?” His words are slurred, and he suddenly grabs onto your wrist with a strong grip.

“Wha–? Let me go!” The back and forth until you finally manage to get your arm free makes you spill your drink onto the floor.

He seems unfazed by this, grunting in annoyance and trying to grab you again, but you evade his movements this time, taking several steps back.

“I said back off! Leave me alone!”

Now he has you cornered against the wall, and you consider your options. He stretches out his hand again to take ahold of you, but before he reaches you, Cal has appeared through another archway to your right and grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him away from you. Two of his football buddies follow.

“Which part of ‘back off’ do you not understand?” he growls at the guy, letting him go with a shove. “Get lost.”

“And who do you think you are? You’re interrupting–” the guy starts, grabbing Cal by the shoulder and turning him around, but before he can even finish his sentence, Cal clocks him in the jaw, and the guy falls to the ground ungracefully, landing in your puddle from earlier with a grunt. The two other guys that arrived with Cal grab him, one arm each, and carry him away, probably outside to kick him out. 

Cal turns to you, shaking the hand he hit the other guy with. 

“Are you okay?” he asks as he approaches you, wanting to hold your arms, but his hands only hover over you as he looks you over for any injuries. 

“I’m– I’m okay. Thank you,” you croak out, blinking repeatedly to process what just happened. Cal gingerly holds your wrist up, inspecting it. You can already see some dark marks forming where the guy before had grabbed you. Cal’s thumb strokes over the inside of your wrist soothingly, his eyes finding yours, and you’re unable to look away. He’s about to say something when voices call out to you. He turns around to see Sabine, Ahsoka and Ezra approaching.

“Are you okay? What happened?” she asks, seeing the puddle on the ground just in time and walking around it.

“Some guy was really drunk, he grabbed my arm and–”

“And I punched him,” Cal finishes.

Sabine raises a brow at that, giving you a look.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Ezra apologises. “I told everyone to not just show up with random people. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Ezra, it’s okay. Really guys, I’m fine.” You swallow down whatever is trying to bubble up, be it a nervous breakdown after a scary situation or just the fact that Cal saved your bacon. Shoving it all into the back of your brain to deal with later, you smile at your friends. “The jerk is dealt with, it’s all good, really. Now let’s go back to enjoying the party. I heard you have a karaoke machine?”

“Yeah,” Sabine says and gives you a questioning look. ‘You sure you're okay?’ At the insistence in your own eyes, she nods. “Okay then, let’s go sing our lungs out. C’mon, guys.”

Ezra apologises again before following Sabine. Ahsoka asks you if you’re sure you’re good, you insist that yes everything is fine, so she leaves as well.

You look to Cal with a grateful smile, about to head out as well, but he stops you.

“Uhm, actually, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says, again scratching his neck in that adorably shy manner, and your breath might or might not have hitched there. “Next week we have a big game against another school team. Do you want to come? And possibly cheer for us?”

“I was wondering if I could ever go to one of your games,” you reply sincerely, smiling up at him. “I’ll cheer for you.”

“For my team or for me specifically?” he remarks with an inquisitive grin, but to your relief, the music from the living room hits your ears before you can even come up with a smooth reply.

“Oh, that’s my jam, c’mon!” You hook your arm around Cal’s and drag him to where everyone’s waiting, both of you laughing. 

— — — — —

The match is intense. You don’t really know all the rules, but you can feel the tension in the air.  

You cheer for Cal from where you sit on the bleachers with Sabine, Ezra and everyone else, all of you shouting and cheering. You haven’t even entirely recovered from the karaoke session, so this surely isn’t helping your vocal chords, but you don’t care. 

Every now and then he looks up from where he is on the field, searching for you in the crowd. He pats the outside of his knee twice when he does, and every time you can feel the rush of heat and giddiness crashing over you. It’s the same gesture he does when you’re on his bike. It’s like a secret signal between the two of you. You don’t care about biting back the giant smile on your face or trying to hide how flustered you look every time he spots you among the audience, and Sabine catches on.

The timer on the giant screen counts down the last seconds of the match, both teams are tied. Cal goes into the offensive, and they make one heck of a play, scoring the last point just before the timer buzzes. Everyone in the audience stands up cheering, clapping, whistling. You as well.

As the announcer wraps up the game and the players leave for the changing rooms, Sabine and you head down to the entrance. Many are already leaving, since the match is over, but friends and family of the players are waiting for them to come out to celebrate.

Sabine and Ezra exchange curious looks with each other, and Sabine elbows you into the side.

“So?” Ezra asks. 

“So what? “ you retort. 

“Are you gonna make a move?” Sabine chimes in. 

“On Cal?”

“Who else!"

“I don’t know…” you respond, unsure. “I don’t want to read too much into it–”

“Ohmygod,” Ezra groans as he shakes you by the shoulders. “You’re both so smitten with each other, it’s starting to be unbearable to watch.

You laugh nervously. Does he really think that? 

“Guys! Here they come,” Sabine interrupts you two as she spots the winning team.

Ezra lets go of you after one last shake, and you all turn to face the players, now showered and changed back into their normal clothes. 

Cal’s eyes roam the space until they find yours, and you think you might go blind by his smile. He’s positively glowing. You’re just expecting to maybe hug him, congratulate him on the win, and then you’ll all go get food together as you’ve planned.

Instead, Cal doesn’t slow down as he approaches you, throwing his arms around your torso and lifting you into the air, spinning you around a couple of times. You hold on to him with a squeak of surprise, and he laughs so heartily, you’re actually glad he’s holding you in the air, because your legs surely would have given out.

Once gently placed back onto the ground, you just kind of look at each other, until Ezra loudly clears his throat, and Cal quickly lets go of you. After you guys say your congratulations to Cal and the rest of his team, you head out to the restaurant. It’s nearby so you decide to walk, the weather is nice even though it's the evening.

The rest of the night, you and Cal seem to tiptoe around each other, like there’s suddenly an invisible line that has been drawn, and you’re both waiting for the other to cross over first. You exchange smiles, glances, accidental touches followed by apologies.

Once the food is gone and the adrenaline starts depleting, it’s time to head home. Cal offers to walk you home, since you’re still relatively close to the dorms. Anakin drove to the game, so he takes the rest back with him in his car.

After you say your goodbyes to the group, not without getting some definitely non-inconspicuous looks from your two besties, it dawns on you that once you’re home, Cal will be stranded there. You bring it up to him, and for a minute you actually consider offering for him to stay the night, but you’re actually not mentally or emotionally prepared for that. So you’re glad when he says he doesn’t mind, he’ll just get a cab or something when he's there, since he got a ride with his coach to the game today and didn’t ride his bike. 

You’re walking down the street in comfortable silence, surrounded by the darkness that's already taken over the sky. You look up expecting to see stars, but you’re disappointed to see clouds. In fact, dark, low hanging clouds, threatening to spill over any moment. 

“Huh, when did it get this stormy,” you wonder aloud, and as if on cue, a gust of wind picks up, sending some leaves and debris flying over the street.

“I’m pretty sure there was no rain announced today–” 

The moment Cal says that, it comes pouring down all at once. 

“What the–! Argh!” you groan in frustration at the sudden downpour, but Cal just laughs, taking your hand as he pulls you away.

“Come on!”

You let yourself be led to take shelter under an awning. You look down at yourself, already soaked even though you were exposed for mere seconds. The sound of rain hitting the ground drowns everything else. You look out with a pout, knowing you’ll have to wait out the weather to get anywhere. 

Suddenly you feel a weight on your shoulders. You look to the side to see Cal placing his varsity jacket on you, and you’d be lying if you weren’t welcoming the warmth. Given that today was supposed to be a clear night, you didn’t really have that many layers, so you gladly slide your arms into the sleeves, hugging yourself. 

Instead of letting go completely of the jacket though, Cal keeps readjusting the collar, tugging on one side so that you turn until you’re fully facing him. A droplet of water falls from his hair onto his cheek. You uncross your arms, slowly bringing your hands up to his forearms, shyly holding onto them. 

“Can i kiss you?” he asks without looking away. And you couldn’t have even if you wanted to, it’s like his ocean eyes held yours in a tight embrace, unable to move. You don’t answer immediately, despite every fiber in your body screaming yes!

“I’m scared,” you finally say in a small voice, almost getting drowned out by the raging rain. Cal’s head backtracks a bit in surprise. 

“What of?” 

“It’s silly,” you pout again, this time looking away, but his hand finds your cheek, bringing your gaze back to him.

“You can tell me,” he assures you. You let out a sharp breath of frustration at yourself. 

“I’ve just… never felt like this before,” you admit. “I'm scared of how much of an effect you have over me, I suppose, and as such making a fool of myself. I want you to like me, so badly.”

Cal tilts his head slightly to the side, offering a warm reassuring smile.

“I can assure you, I feel the same way about you.”

“I don't believe you,” you retort with a scoff. “You always look so collected and confident and just generally cool.”

“On the outside, maybe. But trust me, I'm freaking out on the inside. Check for yourself.”

He takes your hand and places it on his chest, leaving his hand on yours. His heart is beating at a quick pace. The moment you look up again and meet his eyes, the pace picks up. In the faint light you can see a blush spreading on his face, heart pounding against his ribcage, with yours to match.

“Same here,” you say.

“I know,” he replies with a bit of mischief, his other hand on your cheek moving down a bit to your neck, where you now know he can feel your pulse. 

You know he’s still waiting for your answer, but you decide to tease him. Just a bit. Besides, this question has been burning on your tongue for what feels like an eternity now.

“When we went down to the basement, you knew it wasn’t haunted, right?” you ask, and he has to adjust to the sudden change of topic, looking surprised at first, then laughing heartily. You continue, “You knew it was a thing that couples do?” 

“Ah, you got me,” he replies with a light shrug. 

“Did you plan the whole thing out from the start?”

“Actually, no.” He looks away for a moment with a faint smile, thinking back to that day, then meets your eyes again. “I did want to go there with you but didn’t know how to ask. Then I saw you at the vending machine, and the whole thing with Kenobi happened, and it was just too good of an opportunity to pass.”

“I can’t believe I got played like that,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “You know, had you told me back then that you liked me, I would have gone willingly to the basement to leave a note.”

“Guess I was scared, too.”

“That’s fair,” you say, your hands coming up to his face to hold it properly now. You smooth your thumb over his cheekbone, and he leans into your touch. “Well, now that that’s sorted out: yes, yes you can.”

Cal leans in, catching your lips in his, and he holds you so tenderly, you might as well melt down and get swept away by the rain. Your whole body burns, and you grab a fistful of his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer. His hands travel down your arms to snake around your waist between his jacket and your damp shirt, holding you up as you involuntarily put more of your weight on him, the legs under you threatening to give in completely. 

He breaks the kiss and pulls back only enough to pepper your whole face in little kisses, making you giggle.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he remarks, trailing kisses down your jaw, then coming back up to place one last kiss on your lips, which you chase after as he pulls back again, and he chuckles.

“We should get going,” he says, taking your hands in his. “The rain stopped, we should get you home before you catch a cold.”

“Right,” you mumble, still trying to come down from the high of that kiss.  

You start walking down the street hand in hand, and you swing them back and forth between the two of you. You’re almost at your place when he gets a call. Taking his phone out, he picks up and puts it on speaker; it’s Anakin. He asks if Cal needs a ride because of the sudden rain.

“You’re asking now?” Cal laughs. “Well, you sure took your time.”

“I assumed you were… occupied.”

Your face burns up yet again, tips of your ears on fire, as Cal shoots you a funny look.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he says into the phone.

“Oh my god–!” you squeak, hiding your face in your hands as you hear Padme’s cheering in the background. “But yes, please come pick him up. Or he might get sick. We’re both soaking wet.”

Cal holds back a laugh, and you grab onto his wrist to bring the phone closer to you.

“From the rain! Soaked from the rain!” you say firmly into the phone. “Geez...!”

After some more snickers, Anakin and Cal coordinate where he should pick him up. It’s just a street over from your dorm, so you have to part ways there.

“Let’s go somewhere this weekend,” Cal suggests as you’re hugging him goodbye.

“Like where?”

“I’ll show you one of my favourite spots. How about that? Bring your helmet.” 

“Ooh, roadtrip with BD. I’m in,” you agree.

Cal leans in to leave a lingering kiss on your cheek, but before he can pull back completely, you sneak in a peck on the corner of his mouth. Even in the darknes, the streelight the only source of illumination, you can see the furious blush on his face. If it were up to you, you’d kiss him until the sun comes back up, but the both of you really need to take a warm shower and get to bed. 

“It’s a date then,” Cal says with a wink and takes a couple of steps back, waving at you, then turning fully to walk towards the pick-up spot. 

“Yeah, a date…” you whisper to yourself dreamily.

— — — — —

True to his word, Cal takes you to his favourite place. You packed some food and drinks for the road, then headed out. By now you’re far more comfortable on the bike, so you can actually enjoy the view as well. The farther away you get from the city, the more you’re surrounded by forests, farms and you even cross a lake. Starting to gain elevation as he drives up the meandering narrow street, you arrive at a vantage point of sorts. There’s a small parking lot by the road, with a public restroom and some picnic tables. You two get off the bike, walking to the fence which feels to be right at the edge of the cliff, showing a fantastic view into a giant valley.

Your date takes its course; you eat, you chat, you even remembered to pack some cards so you play a couple of rounds on the table. 

When it’s time to head back, you’re packing your things, both of you standing by the bike.

“So, how’d you like it?” he asks.

“It’s beautiful,” you reply, letting your eyes roam over the landscape once more. You arrived here in the early afternoon, and now the sun is just about to set. 

“Anything else you’d like to do before we head back?” 

You think it over. You already ate, took some pictures, enjoyed the view. There’s really not much else to do here. But then a thought occurs to you.

“I, uhm…” For some reason you get shy with your request. “Is there any way we can sit on the bike facing each other? Not to drive, just to chill here a little longer. I’d like to see the full sunset.”

His brows rise in surprise, the slight blush on his cheeks not escaping you, and you wonder what it was about what you’re asking that caused it. 

“Sure. Here–”

He grabs you from underneath your arms, picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you like you weigh nothing, and swings one of his legs over the bike to take a seat like he normally would, placing you onto the tank. You unwrap your legs so that they’re hanging over his things, and that’s when you realise you just asked for you to straddle him. Not that you’re opposed to the result. 

You try finding your seat on the round tank, but you slip down further into his lap, now fully sitting on him. 

“Whoah, sorry,” you try to scoot back up but you’re essentially stuck. “Is this okay? Should I move back?”

“Don’t worry,” he says, looking to the side for a moment as he holds you by your waist, trying to hold you still, and he clears his throat nervously. “This is every biker’s dream, believe me. Are you comfortable?”

You hum in positive response, trying to accommodate to the position in his lap by squirming a little, and his grip on you tightens again. You hear him take a sharp breath though his teeth. 

“Ah, sorry…” you say as you realise what you’re doing. You place your hands on his chest, trying to hold still. For a moment you just sit there, looking at each other in silence, both of you starting to relax into each others’ holds. 

Then a gust of wind picks up, ruffling up his hair. Golden hour hits him just right, the fiery red strands on his head shine gold and copper in the sunlight, his hundreds of freckles seem to glisten on his skin, begging for you to trace over them with your fingers, his ocean eyes now have a hint of green and specks of gold in them, darting up and down as he studies your face as well. Your heart all but bursts at the sight.

“What?” he asks after a while, chuckling. 

“You're breathtaking,” you blurt out in full honesty, holding his face, wondering how it was possible for such a beautiful human being to exist? And he chose to be with you?

Your answer definitely takes him off-guard, as his face blushes violently, from his neck to the tip of his ears. He can’t hold your gaze, looking to the side. It takes a couple of attempts to form a proper sentence.

“You can’t say that with such a straight face, damn,” he laughs nervously. He leans his forehead on your shoulder in an attempt to hide his burning cheeks, but you cup his face and bring him back up to look at you.

“Besides,” he adds after a moment, “You only say that because you haven’t seen yourself. If you think that of me, then you’re nothing short of ethereal.”

So much for watching the sunset. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and his words pierce your very heart, but in a good way. Not really knowing what to reply to that, you kiss him instead, burying your fingers in his hair. 

Cal reciprocates just as intensely, and you can’t help but arch your back into him, thus rolling your hips into his, to which he groans. Your brain is instantly turned to mush, your body now in charge. He tilts his head to the side, his tongue tracing over your lips, and you gasp as you grant him access. Right now, Cal tastes like honey and cool mornings and the pine trees surrounding you. Your senses are on overload, your skin burns as Cal’s hands slip underneath your shirt, slowly travelling up your back, pressing you into him even more.

Finally breaking for air, Cal kisses your jaw, your neck, biting where your pulse is, and if you could still hear yourself, you’d probably be embarrassed about the noises you’re making. 

Then he pulls back rather suddenly, you notice his jaw is tense but you notice his dishevelled hair more, as well as his puffy lips, and the dazed look in his eyes which you’re surely sporting yourself too. You’re both panting, trying to calm your breathing. His hands slide back down and out of your shirt, staying on your thighs instead. 

“Maybe,” Cal says between breaths, “Maybe we should take this somewhere… else.” 

You run your hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out. 

“I think Ahsoka is out for the rest of the night,” you say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

He raises a brow at you. You give him an innocent smile. 

“Let’s head back then,” he says, picking you up again like before, this time to get you off the bike. 

You finish packing up everything, hop on and start your way back to the dorms. All the while, his hand is either on yours or on your leg, lovingly stroking the side of your thigh. 

His biker gear really does suit him and you like how he looks in it, but for once, you can’t wait for him to take it off.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

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[visceralprayers]

gabriel began to place food on the table and stepped into the front room to call everybody in. he hadn't really had a chance for chit chat today, but he'd seen people coming in and out and wasn't oblivious to some tension, but he hadn't been clued in just yet and wouldn't push. his children were usually fairly straight forward with him, if they wanted him to know, he'd know. he made his way into the dining room and guided dakota into the seat beside himself, flashing a wink, " bon appetit. "

joshua was mildly nervous, mostly for the awkward atmosphere, since riley wasn't exactly the kind to act on her anger or pain, she wasn't all that like josh and colby. he made sure that his siblings weren't sitting together before finally pulling out kieran's seat for her, pushing it in as she sat down and taking his seat, " looks great, thanks, gabe. "

jake definitely felt awkward, he knew he was out of place here but he was glad to be here with riley. he was sincere about wanting to prove he hadn't been lying the other night, and they'd spent a fair bit of time together since. riley still seemed wary but she also seemed to be warming to him slightly, or at least, he assumed so, since he was her, " yeah, " he cleared his throat, " thanks. "

matteo hadn't been able to hold off on climbing the stairs and stealing a moment for herself. she wouldn't cry in front of riley, she wasn't trying to make her feel guilty and she'd accept what was offered because she didn't even deserve that, but she also knew this wasn't a typical break up, nor did anybody possibly ever have to have dinner with their new ex and the guy she'd ruined her relationship for. she assumed colby wouldn't come, and was surprised when she stepped into the dining room after everybody was already seated and found the only empty spot beside him. she cursed under her breath and forced a smile, " sorry. " @wailingbones

[sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully]

,,, so, I’m being self indulgent,,,,,,,,,, haha!!

This isn’t a request! Just me being silly! :]

Love Languages

Wally Darling Love Language Headcanons, no assigned reader!

Headcanons format, not super specified romantic or platonic, so envision it as you please!

Honestly, I truly dearly envision Wally to have quality time, gift giving, and physical touch as love languages. Like, so dearly truly so, haha!!

I feel he’s the type to simply just.. hand a gift to someone. Randomly.

“What’s this?” “A gift!” “Is.. is this a bent paperclip?-“ “No, it’s a gift!”

I feel he tries to get personalized gifts, but— ah, he’s a bit silly, haha!! I feel sometimes it’d backfire, and his train of thought as to why this was the absolute most perfectest gift tends to twirl too much in his little apple shaped brain— to where it kind of just.. doesn’t make sense.

But a gift is a gift!!!! It’s the thought that counts!

As for physical touch, I believe he’s still learning it, haha! If I recall correctly, Clown mentioned he just goes limp upon being hugged— but I could be remembering wrong!

Either way, he can be instructed! He will figure it out! Even if sometimes it backfires, like his constant blowing of kisses (also mentioned by Clown!) !!

He strikes me as the type to just.. want to use someone as a pillow.

They’re just, sitting, minding their business, and suddenly he’s just.. at their side. Pillow……..

I think he’d like to hold hands. I think he’d just like hands in general. Maybe this is a smidge of self projection, but I’m an artist that loves hands. dearly so. I find their structure really interesting!! I feel he’s similar.

I think he’d just like to hold someone’s hand and look at it and how it moves. That’s real intimacy right there, folks!!! /lhj

If someone were to try and interlock their fingers with his, whether platonically or romantically, I think he’d just stare. Processing… until he gets it!

Don’t expect to be getting that hand back anytime soon, friend! That isn’t your hand, anymore! It’s our hand.

Overall, I feel he wouldn’t express physical affection in any normal way. I feel cuddling and the hand stuff is the closest exception, but other than that?

I think he’d just lay on someone. Like, you have yours legs sprawled out? Ahh, what a lovely hammock!

Are you laying on your stomach? Ahh, what a lovely pillow!

He just kind of.. compresses on impact. Pillow.

Gift that man a weighted blanket and I think he’d know peace. True peace.

I think just laying on him would content him, too, HAHA

He strikes me as the ‘likes physical pressure as affection’ kind

Also plays into quality time!!!

But, for the most part, quality time can just be spent in many ways.

Hanging out and chatting, doing your own individual activities in the same room, sleeping around each other,,, squeeshy

He just takes being in the presence of someone for a while as quality time, and he feels very grateful for his friends when he does <33

Just a silly little guy:)

Might be projection again, but I feel he struggles to express his affection in an easily digestible way— so just? Understanding his love languages and what counts as affection on his end? Is so delightful and appreciated

ESPECIALLY if it’s reciprocated

I feel how he feels loved, in return, are the same ones!!! Along with words of affirmation!! Squenshy

Bon appetite (???) HAHAH

I’m somewhat half awake, this has just been rotating in my brain like a microwave plate, so don’t mind any grammatical errors! I’ll fix them laterrrrrrrr

[agendabymooner]

l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola) ! daniel r. and f1 drivers x ofcs - mini wedding series part 3.

"the family business (and the weasels of the island)"

summary: nobody seemed to warn lester and danny that good things come with the most difficult journey. OR it's wednesday, and all the couple wanted was for the grid to stay away from the italian's sisters. (1)(2)

characters involved: lando norris, george russell, pierre gasly, carlos sainz, alex albon. fictional including the alessandro siblings, trish alonso (see masterlist) and the hearth sisters (and their kids!)

content warning: written part (HELLA LONG). hurt/comfort and a hint of crack fic! mentions of possible infertility, conceiving/pregnancy, mental health, therapy. thirsty!grid singles, lando norris x alessandro!ofc, george russell x alessandro!ofc. minor scenario with cigarette, use of explicit language and google translated italian.

note: got my etsy danny ric shirt. felt good. was writing a feel good part of this series but then decided last minute "hey let's add some sadness into this" and voila. bon appetit xx

masterlist

“Good morning, lads and ladies,” Daniel Ricciardo was the sunshine of the remote island— no matter how exposed the land and the beach were to the sun. The Australian driver could show up in the most depressing place and still manage to paint it yellow. 

But that didn’t apply to all that Wednesday morning. 

The usual suspects — Pierre, Carlos, Lando, George, and surprisingly Lance too — were still hungover from last night. Apparently, from what Daniel had witnessed last night at the bar stand, Valtteri makes a mean cocktail. The first one to believe him was Lando, who definitely asked for more because “he was parched.” Then the usual suspects continued to drink as they begged Bottas to make more. So the grumpiness from the five this morning was just a result of Valtteri’s talent in mixology. 

Lando just grunted quietly as he ate his breakfast. He was cranky, but it was only because Lewis had a vegan option while he and the other lads weren’t allowed to eat much carbs. Lando could really use some nougats. 

“So, not good morning then,” Daniel chuckled before he walked up to the kitchen, looking for the morning shift chef. It didn’t take much longer for Lester to enter the dining hall with the wedding coordinator, Garcia. They were talking amongst themselves before catching the sight of her friends. 

Lester paused from walking before waving, “Morning!” 

Everyone waved back at her, except for the five who only nodded. Lester frowned, “…Okay.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Aimee Hearth, the youngest sister of the Hearth family and Charles’ girlfriend, waved off as she joked, “they had a Taco Tuesday night.” 

Sylvie then looked at Lester and made a drinking gesture, leaving Garcia and Lester to hum in realization. 

“Okay,” Lester giggled, “I’ll tell the chef to have some juice for you, I suppose.” Then she and the coordinator continued to walk towards the kitchen. 

Lando slumped against his chair and sighed, “She’s so weird.”

“Weird how?” Sylvie asked, now looking at her best friend with a scowl. 

“This week made her weirder than she usually is,” Lando whined, “she’s all smiley and giggly— it’s creepy. That’s a Danny Ric thing to do, not a Lester Allie thing.” 

Lester’s friends sat to Lando’s left and laughed at the remark. Damiano David leaned forward to look at the British man. “Lando, it’s her wedding week, dumbass.” 

“I think I’d rather have her shitting on my life instead of giving everyone a happy smile,” Lando shifted in his seat. 

“And she didn’t want to get her sisters’ photos sent to your grid group chat, but we can’t always get what we want,” Thomas sassed. His Italian accent seemed to be a little too loud, he thought, because at the last word almost half the grid stared at his direction. He saw the watching eyes and shrugged, “Hey man, Lorelei speaks. There’s no way anyone could hear a screaming guy down the hall and not ask a question about it—“

“Okay, okay!” Lando protested with a roll of his eyes, “Damn, there’s no need to expose me.” 

“What do you mean, expose you?” Max and Lewis snorted. “Everyone by the lounge room could hear you. You sound like a dying hyena, bruv.” 

The chef came out of the kitchen with jugs of juice— mango and orange, leaving the door open as the couple and the coordinator discussed the agenda for today. The chef came pouring some juice for the guests while the men listened in to the conversation. 

“Mrs. Wolff and her family will be arriving later today with Mrs. Hamilton and the baby. We’ve had their rooms set up— and I can assume Sir Hamilton has already set up the crib for the baby?” 

“He should be.”

“Right, sounds neat. Now what are we looking at… let’s see…” 

“Dinner, perhaps?” 

“The caterers will be serving lunch at 12:30, just half an hour after your families arrive. They’ll serve dinner for the guests at the dining hall while the evening chefs will serve dinner for the family dinner at the villa.”

“Great,” Daniel said, the eavesdropping lads hearing the smile from his voice alone, “that sounds like a plan.”

“If you don’t mind me asking: there will still be portions made for the kids’ right?” Lester asked. She was so polite, never demanding— perhaps that’s what Daniel didn’t like so much. He wanted her to demand for more. But that’s maybe why he also loved her so much. 

“Yes! Of course, it will be for six, yes?” Garcia asked. A hum of agreement came from the kitchen. 

“Psst, Lando, psssst~” Max tried calling the Brit, but he wasn’t having it. 

George and Alex glared at Max and told him to shush. Max looked at his girlfriend and Lewis with his jaw dropped, as if he was asking, “Can you believe this shit?” 

“It should be, unless you count Lori’s brother- ow, never mind,” Daniel groaned, “I forgot I’m not entitled to make such jokes yet.” 

“Would you like anything else from the kitchen?” The chef asked kindly, making Lando look at her with a smile. 

“Some fruits, perhaps?” Lando suggested, feeling slightly irked that he couldn’t listen in to the conversation in the kitchen.

“That should be confirmed as of your arrival two days ago,” Garcia said, “and if you would like, we can always set up a table for the littles so you can have some time. It should be safe for them to go around the villa. And we can also get them some colouring pages and crayons to keep them occupied during the dinner.”

“Of course,” the chef nodded, “just going to chop ‘em up for you.” She then walked off, allowing Lando to continue with his eavesdropping.

“That sounds good!” Lester eagerly said, “I should have thought of that before.”

“I came prepared, Lester, so don’t worry,” Garcia chuckled. “You’ll have more kids at the reception so we’ve made a little table arrangement for them.” 

“Maybe this is a time for her sisters to take a break,” Daniel laughed. “God knows what two children could do to each of them.” 

“Yeah, hearing that they’re single parents made me admire them even more— and I’ve not seen them before!” 

Hearing the conversation, Lando whipped his head towards the direction of the other drivers. His eyes twinkled in excitement and the grid singles seemed to share the same sentiment. 

Valtteri had only shaken his head, wondering what he was just roped into. Lewis caught a glimpse of his reaction, reaching out to pat him at the back. 

Man, were they ever ready to meet the Alessandros. 

The arrival of the Ricciardos was exciting, the grid singles said, but the Alessandros were a different story. 

The singles had decided to do a roll call and relaxed at the beach. The rest (being Sebastian, Fernando and his family, Lewis, Charles and Max with their partners) remained in the palace, some opting for the central air conditioning while the Alonsos hung out at the pool by the west entrance. 

The boys already greeted the family before going back to whatever they were doing. The port was near the palace itself, making it easier for anyone to get to their temporary shelter fast. The beach was also near the port, which gave the boys some access to see who arrived and who had left. 

Then came the Alessandros. 

“Mio caro! Come on, ‘urry!” Pierre’s head was the first to snap in the direction of Lester’s yelling voice, then it was followed by the rest. “They’re here!” 

“I’m coming— that doesn’t sound so right,” Daniel replied back. 

The boys could see the couple standing in the docks as the guests arrived through a boat. The littles had arrived first, jumping up on the arms of Danny and Lester. 

“Oh man, Franco— you and Andrea are heavy!” Daniel hoisted the boys up. “Geez, Lina— what do you feed them?” 

“Men who like to be unkind to women.” 

The boys were close enough to be able to hear the arriving people. So their conversations were loud enough for the boys to eavesdrop. 

“My kinda breakfast.” Anyone with two eyes could say that she was… hot. Pierre Gasly had seen her face once or twice in magazines but not once did he care enough to get to know her. He didn’t think that he’d see her in person though, radiating the same energy that she had on those pictures.

Pierre looked back at the boys, volleyball in hand as he nodded in the direction of the docks. “Jacquelina,” his French accent said loud enough for the men, “she’s the eldest, oui?” 

“Yeah,” Lando confirmed. 

“Dio abbia pietá,” God, have mercy. Pierre muttered beneath his breath before turning back. 

“Same here,” Lester said as she juggled the toddler and the infant in her arms. “Theo and Maris have grown a lot this past year! Don’t tell me you’re feeding them the same thing as Lina, sis?” 

“No,” another woman stepped out of the boat, trying to balance her way down as she laughed heartily. “They like racists for dinner.”

“Still hilarious as ever, Nora,” Danny laughed aloud, hugging the brunette as a greeting. The woman kissed him on the cheek before moving on to Lester. 

Kara Eleanora Alessandro. That was the 30 year old sister of Lester, then. She was the businesswoman who runs a boutique in Tuscany and Milan. 

Pierre was stupid for that. Why didn’t he go out to shop more often? 

“Ever the genius, Dan,” Nora chuckled, kissing her sister on the forehead. “I hope the groom’s treating you nicely, tesoro?” 

“A malapena,” barely. Lester laughed softly, making Daniel turn towards his fiancée with a huge scowl on his face.

“The accusations, bellezza,” Daniel scoffed, “on our wedding week.” 

“Yeah, keep that up then there will be no more weddings happening,” Nora said, reaching for her children as she carried them. “Is there any place the bambinos could freshen up in? Theo and the boys were rather excited about swimming when we said beach. They can’t swim on the beach just yet because we just arrived – they need to nap.” 

“Ah yes! West and east entrance,” Lester told her sister, “Garcia will show you your rooms, then you can have lunch if you’d like.” 

A tall figure exited the boat, making his way down to the dock as he exclaimed, “Danny!” 

“Mateo! How’s it been?” Daniel slapped the boy’s back and greeted. “How’s college?” 

“Shit,” Mateo Alessandro stood there with his 6 '1 being. He was dressed on a blue short sleeved linen shirt and khaki shorts, his bucket hat eccentric. 

“Oi, stop swearing,” Lester scolded her little brother before giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I didn’t raise you like that, bambino.” 

“You’re only four years older than me,” Mateo rolled his eyes. 

“MATEO! YOU UTTER PIECE OF SHIT!” A scream escaped a girl’s mouth as she exited the boat, stomping down as if the boat wasn’t shaking. 

“NICOLA! Don’t be foolish! Stop shaking the boat,” Lester hissed, the younger girl not caring as she smacked Mateo in the arm. 

The slap was so hard that even the drivers from afar grimaced. Crikey.

“Alright, cut it out,” Daniel told the girl before Mateo could even retaliate. “Use your words, kids.” 

“Look at what this testa de cazzo did to my face,” dickhead. The girl whined as she turned her head to the side, suddenly catching a glimpse of the drivers who then looked away after being caught by her. 

Daniel and Lester leaned over and saw what she was pointing at. 

A penis was drawn on the side of her head. Right on her temple, in fact. 

Lester glared at Mateo, who couldn’t contain his laughter any longer as he cackled hysterically. 

Of course, Daniel took this as a chance to joke.

“If anything, you’re the dickhead,” Mateo wailed at the joke that Daniel made, trying to catch his breath. 

“Don’t encourage the boy,” Lester nudged her fiancé harshly before turning to her sister, “Do you think you can take it off easily?”

“I sure hope so,” Nicola Alessandro was everyone’s favourite, being the youngest and all that. Truthfully, Mateo and Nicola were the favourites of the Alessandro family. They could get away with anything and get something with a snap of a finger if they asked for it. So their foolishness was just a natural thing to happen. 

If you put them in the same place, you’ll have nothing but chaos. 

“It’s washable,” Mateo finally stood up from laughing too much, wiping down the drawing. “See?” 

“You need to stop doing shit that’ll get you in trouble, Mateo,” Daniel paused, “Actually, don’t do the shit that’ll get me in trouble. They already think that I’m influencing you.”

“So we can’t talk about the po—“

“No! We didn’t even do that,” Daniel protested, “stop being a shithead. I love you, man, but you need to stop concocting something heinous at this early time of the week. I’ve got to marry your sister.”

“Ma should have adopted him out and stuck to being a girl mother,” Nicola shook her head before walking towards the direction of the palace.

“Oi! You’re a bitch, you know that.”

“Stop throwing that word around, Mateo! The kids can hear you!” Lester huffed as she and Daniel watched Mateo walk away. 

The couple then turned towards the direction of the grid singles, Daniel crossing his arms and Lester resting her hand on her hips. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the staring drivers, obviously acting like deers caught in the headlights as she pointed at them. 

“Don’t try it, boys,” she warned them.

Daniel also said, “We mean it.” 

They both walked off, heading to the palace as well. 

The drivers only looked at each other, silence filling the air. Bottas then guffawed and was followed by the rest of the group. They had a hard time keeping a straight face as they were being told off by the couple. Those two were the most cheerful couple to have existed in the paddock, so to see them look serious? Yeah no. 

They all had to laugh.

pierregasly posted on his story !

An hour hadn’t even passed since the Ricciardos and the Alessandros arrived at the island, and if you were to ask any of the drivers they were starting to feel bored by the lack of activities done. Most of them had gone off to somewhere inside the palace after Lance told them about the entertainment den at the basement level.

Everyone left the beach but George Russell. He decided that he should stay and spend some time listening to the calming waves of the low-tide water, under the umbrella with his shirt undone and his chest and abdomen exposed to the world. 

This was the life he wanted to live after the 2023 season. He hadn’t really wanted to party for two days straight, but most people were his friends and they’ve never taken the energy out of him. So really, he’s winning either way.

His eyes were closed the entire time, his ears listening closely to the sound of the waves. But he drew his attention to the rustling of the sands as he shot up and turned to his right, looking towards the direction of the footsteps. 

“Buongiorno,” he was so happy his sunglasses were on because his eyes trailed down the legs of the petite woman before looking back at her. “How are you?” 

Shit, George thought as he gulped, she’s actually talking to me.

“I’m great!” It wasn’t as if he had a choice— he had to talk to her instead of fearing that he’ll be screwing it up one way or another. “How are you? Liking the island so far?” 

“Ah yes,” she nodded before peering down the empty spot next to him, “may I sit?” 

“Yes, yes, do,” George nodded eagerly as she smiled gleefully and sat on the empty outdoor chaise lounge, sighing in joy. Forget about her wearing a black beach dress that barely covered her red bikini, her smile was heavenly.

“Thanks,” her Italian accent was the same as Lester’s, George noticed, and her fluency was much better, “I haven’t had a time to sit down for a moment until the little ones settled.” 

“I’ve got a niece and a nephew,” he chuckled, “my sibling struggles a lot too.” 

“It’s good that they’re out for a nap,” she said, “because I get to see the beach peacefully before they start causing havoc later.”

“It must be something you’ve missed,” George laughed. “Having a peaceful time on the beach.” 

“Yes,” she nodded in agreement, “having two under six is not exactly suitable for struggling mothers.”

“Sorry to hear that,” George spoke softly. He really did feel bad for her. 

“Meh, that man is a coward,” she stated with a shrug, “he left because he can’t handle a woman who’s doing a much better job in business and in parenting— sorry, I did not catch your name?” 

“Oh! Yikes, that’s true,” George grimaced before sticking his hand out, “‘m George. I’m one of the poor souls who have been causing problems on the island since Monday.” 

“Ah, that explains why you’re here in the silence,” she joked as she reached out to shake his hand. “Kara Eleanora. I am one of Lorelei’s older sisters.” 

“Really?” George’s eyes widened, pretending as if he hadn’t seen her hop out of the boat earlier. “So you are the Nora that Daniel talks about.” 

“I have a feeling that he is talking about me in a poor manner,” Nora laughed quietly.

“No, no,” George shook his head, “he tells us a lot about Lester’s siblings— he loves all of you, really. He recently told us about your baby’s christening.”

“He is Marisa’s godfather,” Nora grinned, “my Gabby’s godfather was his father’s friend, and I have trusted Daniel more than I had trusted the pezzo di merda’s asshole friend.” piece of shit.

“He is trustworthy,��� George nodded. “At least you know that he’s a permanent fixture.”

“I can’t help it; he’s in every group chat our siblings have whenever we’re all away,” Nora laughed loudly as George followed along, “nobody wants to be as involved in their partner’s family as him— it’s no wonder why Pa allowed him to propose.”

“So, Nora, tell me more!” 

Lando Norris didn’t like snitching, he swore. He wouldn’t do it purposefully, he’d do it because his big mouth couldn’t stop itself from doing so. 

So when he made his way back to the beach to see how George was, he hid behind the shrubs when he caught sight of the tall British man walking down the shore alongside a woman who was a foot or two shorter than him. He gasped quietly, trying to grasp the scene in front of him. 

The McLaren driver did not like snitching, but his fingers acted faster than his brain did when he sent a message to someone. Or rather… some people.

Lando: The Prince is with a lady. I repeat, THE PRINCE IS WITH A SISTER!!

It didn’t take long for Carlos Sainz, Pierre Gasly and Alex Albon to arrive, leaning down at Lando’s level before the British man nudged his head towards the direction of the duo. Wordlessly, the three men looked at the walking figures. 

Then they took off, with Lando begging for them to come back and don’t do something stupid. But it was too late for that. 

“Oi, George!” Alex hollered, making the couple turn around with a frown, “I thought you were alone here?” 

“I was,” George said slowly, his face etched a look of confusion before it turned into a glare, “but the three of you obviously decided that I shouldn’t be anymore.” His glare said not to screw it up for him while Nora remained on his side, but the three weren’t about to let him win.

“Oh, hola,” Carlos said politely, putting on his trademark smile as he offered his hand to shake, “I’m Carlos. What’s your name, hermosa?” 

“Kara Eleanora,” she grinned charmingly before shaking his hand, “you’ve got quite the accent— are you from any other country, perhaps?”

“Spain,” Carlos grinned smugly at the boys. 

It only started there. Lando didn’t even want to replay their Wednesday after that first encounter with an Alessandro sister. Only wanting to replay the one that he had with the youngest one. 

The night seemed to end early for everyone. By the time the sun began to set, the Wolffs arrived on the island with Stevie, her newborn and Daniel’s best friend, Scotty and his wife Chloe Stroll. They arrived rather fashionably early than expected and truthfully, Lester and Danny were more than grateful.

Stevie had introduced Lottie Hamilton to everyone just as the model arrived. The baby was only 8-week old yet she already stole the hearts of the adults on the island. Danny and Lester spent their time around the baby with some of their nephews and nieces hanging around them, asking the adults if Lottie would race too– because Lina’s son Andrea would like to race like his Zio Daniel. 

The time seemed to pass by quickly, because the couple’s endless conversation with the Hamiltons lasted longer than expected. Daniel and Lester waved goodbye to the two before they got ready for dinner.

During the Alessandro-Ricciardo dinner, Lando took it upon himself to walk around the island. Had it been for the pathways made and lights outdoors, he probably would have gotten lost on his little adventure. It was during that time when he accidentally stumbled upon the villa where the dinner was occurring, and as always, he had accidentally listened in on the conversations shared between the family.

Meanwhile, the Alessandros sat on one side of the table and the Ricciardos on the other. The kids were occupied on their own table and had no intention of talking to the adults anytime soon. Daniel’s nephew, Isaac, had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on the little ones - to which Daniel thanked him and swiftly handed the child five euros and 20 Australian dollars, telling him not to tell his mother about the money. 

“I don’t know if this is like a coincidence but Mom’s name is Grace,” Daniel’s sister, Michelle, started, “and Lori’s mom is…”

“Grazia!” Lando heard Mateo’s laugh throughout the location followed by others as they laughed along. “And you know what, Michelle? Her maiden name is even funnier.”

“Oh no,” Lester laughed, “right, mio caro, remember what I told you about Mama?”

“The maiden name? Yeah, how can’t I,” Daniel snickered, “Mom, Mama’s maiden name is Riccardo.”

“Really?” Lando would pay to see the shocked look on Mr. and Mrs. Ricciardo’s face. “Is it really?”

“Sí,” Grazia responded, “my papa’s family business happens to be Siena’s famous local winery– La Vigna E La Cantina Di Riccardos. It’s been running for many decades now. The Riccardos are very famous in our town.” The Riccardos’ Vineyard and Winery.

“I would have gotten a deal to produce wine from their business with Lori’s uncle,” Daniel told them, “if she had told me in the beginning.”

“Am I just the means of your successful business, mio tasso?” Lori said. She hadn’t really needed to tell him that. She and her siblings did not have much connection with the winery, after all. Her mother, Grazia, worked there briefly and had earned enough in the place. She owned parts of the winery, of course, but there was only enough to do and enough money to earn in the place. So Lester didn’t feel the need to tell him about it if she’s not involved in the business.

“No,” Daniel shook his head and huffed, earning a giggle from Lori, “stop twisting my words around, love. You’re going to get me in trouble. I only mean that they have better… taste?”

“But we don’t have an I on our Riccardo,” Grazia chuckled, “that’s not confusing, no?”

“You’re an Alessandro,” Lester’s father, Giacomo Alessandro, laughed aloud, “you have not been a Riccardo for years.”

“Besides,” the eldest Alessandro sibling, Jacquelina – or Lina, piped up as she sipped on her sauvignon blanc, “We will only have one Ricciardo by the end of the week. Two– if you include Daniel himself.”

“I like that idea, Lina,” Daniel snapped his finger before he pointed at Lina excitedly, “thank you for reminding us. See? You don’t have to worry about many Riccardos with and without the letter I when it’ll just be me and Lori!”

“Give it a month or two, then there’ll be three of them,” Michelle said, while she wiggled her brows at the couple. The couple shared a look before laughing nervously, their reaction masked as amusement. 

“We’re just saying,” Nora clinked her glass with Michelle’s before sipping, “it would be very nice if the bambinos have a baby for a cousin.”

“We have Maris,” Lester shook her head in disbelief, “isn’t she adorable enough for a cousin?”

“Yeah but, I have heard Isaac and Isabella ask for a baby cousin,” Michelle suggested with a scheming smile. 

“I’ve been hearing it for more than I can count,” Michelle’s husband groaned, “it’s not like it’s easy to shoot a baby out of a woman, you know? It’s hard to explain to them that it takes a lot of work for that to happen.”

Unbeknownst to everyone, the couple had been trying. Nobody knew just yet, because they didn’t want to make a fuss out of it. It had taken a toll on Lester’s mental health, as well, but it wasn’t something that she spoke of aloud. Daniel had taken notice of it, and had immediately sat her down to have a conversation about the matter. She cried so hard that day.

The memories of negative results were still fresh for the bassist, if you were to ask her. She hated tossing out the pregnancy tests knowing that she had to tell Danny that she hadn’t done it. Everybody talks about the wonders of conceiving and pregnancy, but why didn’t they warn Lester about the disappointing and draining part of it? Clearly, they only advertised the positive side of it but provided very little support for those who kept on trying. 

Going to her gynecologist became a constant thing, and hiding it from Danny wasn’t easy. What was she supposed to do? She was already failing and she wasn’t even a mother yet. Daniel didn’t know how terrible it was until the day she declared that she was going to see an online therapist during her tour. He couldn’t even believe that his fiancée was suffering from this. He remained proud of her, still. He told her that they’ll find a way. He expressed his admiration for keeping a brave front throughout all of this – telling her that she would be the amazing mother bear that their kids would have.

The therapist wasn’t a secret to anyone, but trying to conceive a baby was. Danny wanted her to have the peace she deserved after those stupid pregnancy tests had failed her. He was upset himself, but Lester was the one blaming her own body for not doing the thing she expected it to do. He could only be there for her, trying and trying. He could only be there for the treatments that she may need, and for the worst things that could happen in the process.

Squeezing his hand below the table, Lester shot him a smile. I’m here for you.

He took notice of her smile and grinned back at her, squeezing her hand back. And I will always be here for you.

Lando was so caught up in his own little world that the only thing that brought him back to his senses was a smell of smoke coming from behind him. He turned around and nearly jumped and screamed, watching as the young adult peered at him with a suspicious look. She sat on the bench by the stone fountain, between her fingers was a lit cigarette.

“I know you had a crush on my sisters, but I did not think you would stoop this low,” she laughed quietly, taking a drag before exhaling sharply. 

“I’m not- not stalking,” Lando insisted before gesturing at the pavement, “‘m just walking around at night. Like a normal adventurer– do your sisters know you smoke?”

“They know that every once in a while I do,” she shrugged, her fingers reaching out to offer him the cigarette. Lando shook his head in insistence, not wanting to do that. “I don’t get stressed as often.”

“Yeah?” When she moved to one side, Lando took this as an invite and sat next to her. The smell of the cigarette reeked and Lando was sure his clothes would have the scent of smoke all over it by the time he leaves. “You must be living a chill life then.”

“Bwoaaa… I would not say so,” she wrinkled her brows as she thought of it. “My sisters are successful in life, and I am not– that stresses me out. Besides, you are the one to talk. You are doing what you love and you are making money out of it.”

“I’m sure you have something,” Lando shrugged.

“D’you put this much trust on people you meet, Norris?” She giggled, her accent slipping into a southern one after saying the first word. “Perhaps I have something. Who knows.”

Lando laughed quietly, “You know my name and you haven’t even told me yours. How unfair is that?”

“You’re a professional driver alongside my in-law,” she raised a brow, “you’re not exactly the private kind. Unless you have forgotten that you are famous?”

“I don’t like to brag about it,” Lando waved her comment off, “I prefer bragging about my trophies. Now, trophies– they always have me and my ego going. They show that I have something to prove. Fame is different– you can be famous and still be talentless.” 

“Honest,” she observed with a hum, "sei impressionante.” You are impressive. 

Lando might have understood, or he didn’t, but she didn’t care as she introduced herself, “Nicola Grazia.”

“Nee-ko-la Grat-zia,” Lando said slowly. 

“Or Pepsi,” she grinned, “Lina called me that first but Lo decided to keep it forever.”

“How– oh,” Lando paused, causing the Italian girl to nod and encourage him to speak, “Cola.”

“Yes,” she dropped the butt of her cigarette before stomping on it, killing the burning end of it. “Like Pepsi-Cola.” 

“Well, I’m Lando Norris,” he reintroduced himself, causing her to laugh heartily. “And- I think you’ve been an amazing company so far, Miss Alessandro.” 

“It’s nice to meet my sister’s own pet sewer rat,” Nicola joked, shaking his hand and pulling away. Lando pulled an unimpressed look as she continued, “Lo told me to call you that because she and Dan are the couple from Ratatouille. Do you know Linguini and Colette?”

“Yes,” he muttered in annoyance, reminding himself to give the two an earful tomorrow. 

“You are like their Remy,” Nicola smiled at him cheekily.

“I already got that when you called me a sewer rat,” Lando rolled his eyes.

“I’m jealous,” Nicola sighed before standing up, not even looking back at him as she said, “I’ve always wanted to travel with them for free. I should be their Remy.”

Lando stared at her as she disappeared from his sight, wondering what the hell did the youngest Alessandro sister tell him. He asked himself a lot of questions that night: Did she compare me to a rat AND called me a freeloader? Did I just try to shoot my shot with her by saying she was a good company and accidentally making it sound like I’m insinuating something else? 

She had already caught his attention and the couple just warned them not to try anything with any of Lori’s sisters. But maybe Lando would push his luck a little. 

What’re the chances of him being obliterated to the moon by Lester and Danny? Maybe if he tries hard enough, he’ll be able to get away a little.

tagged mateoales, jacquelinalessandro, nora_alessandro, danielricciardo, loressandro

liked by alex_albon, ethaneskin, landonorris

comments have been limited

ethaneskin li abbiamo avvertiti (we warned them)

colabebe sono tutti ottusi così? (are they all dumb like that?)

landonorris ayo the prince is moving maaaad 😶‍🌫️

pierregasly which royal guard let the prince loose like that?? 🤣

oscarpiastri his royal highness really using that royal w, huh?

colabebe if i see any of these photos released in public, you'll lose your private acc privileges pierregasly landonorris oscarpiastri alex_albon

alex_albon why me??? i've kept my mouth shut since you came

pierregasly alex_albon hehe 😈🐶

colabebe that's strike one mr. gasly

pierregasly i'm sorry 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri i will honour your laws maam

landonorris yeah yeah whatever can you please accept george and carlos' follow requests already? thx

[simpforchuchu]

OK OK, BUT FIRST HI AND I HOPE YOUR JOB INTERVIEW WENT WELL BUT RN I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT!! CAN YOU MAKE SHIBAMAN ONESHOT????? LIKE WHEN HE FELL IN LOVE AND MAYBE A BIT NSFW AT THE END???? PRETTY PLEADE AND THANK YOU SO MUCH

Shibaman x IchigoMilk!Reader

a/n: Hii! Thanks for asking but they didn't hire me shjsjxjd I was planning to write smth for Shibaman so im happy to see this request jxkdkf Yeah Tsuji&Shibaman are my babies 😁 Im not very comfortable about writing nsfw so... Here is your request, i hope you like it 🤗💕

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: hnl usual violence and fights...

When the young girl entered the small restaurant, she looked around for a while.She was looking for 2 tall boys and when she saw them eating ramen at a table with joy, she stepped there.

She dropped her bag on the chair and sat on the chair opposite the two of them, and the two looked at her in surprise.

"Bon appetite boys!"

Shiba asked in a sarcastic tone as Tsuji nodded his head.

"Did you only come to say that?"

She was the youngest member of Ichigo Milk, where Shibaman's older sister was.More like, she was a rookie.The young girl, who is also loved by the Sannoh members, has not been able to get along well with this duo since her childhood.

Although Tsuji stopped fighting with her as he got older, Shiba and Y/n would argue every time for some ridiculous reason.  So when the young girl sat across from them, it was Shibaman who reacted even though they were both surprised.

Y/n rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.She put a sweet smile on her face and looked at the two of them.

"How are you? How's school going?"

Tsuji laughed at her attempt to chat and continued to eat, but Shiba didn't want to miss the opportunity to piss her off.

"Come to the point y/n. Also, I'm glad I didn't see you in that stupid pink gang uniform.That uniform pisses me off."

Y/n knew Shibaman didn't like her sister being in that gang. The fact that it was really dangerous was one of the biggest reasons.

The girl tried to gather her sentences.It was quite painful for her to have to ask these two for help.

"Okay, I'm getting straight to the point. I need your help."

Shiba gave a small grin as Tsuji lifted his head in surprise.

"You? Great Y/n? Need our help?"

Y/n wanted to choke him right now but she couldn't. So she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  But before that, Tsuji spoke.

"What kind of help? Is there a problem?"

Y/n slowly nodded and took a deep breath.And she asked without hesitation.

"I need one of you two to be my boyfriend."

"What?!"

Yes, they both cried out in surprise at the same time.Y/n put her index finger to her lips to silence them and continued.

"You're just going to pretend like it.For once. Pleaseee."

Tsuji and Shiba looked at each other and turned back to the girl.

"Can you explain properly what the fuck is that?"

Y/n said that there is someone bothering her, maybe he will give up if he sees her with her boyfriend. When they realized that the young girl was very uncomfortable with this situation, they started to take things seriously.

"Wouldn't you normally beat that person? Is he someone too strong for you?"

Y/n shook her head when Tsuji asked

"No, my mom will kill me if she hears of another fight. So I can't cause any trouble."

"I can beat him."  Said Shiba and y/n sighed

"No idiot, no fighting. I just want you to help me."

Tsuji had known the two well for years. And although neither of them admitted it, he was sure that they liked each other. So he wanted to send his friend for this plan.

"Shiba is taller, he may look scarier than me. Besides, I can't stop myself from beating him up. So Shiba is coming with you."

Tsuji nodded and Shiba sighed as Shiba turned to him in surprise.

"Okay, but you're buying us another ramen."

Y/n smiled and nodded

"Roger!"

***

Y/n sighed at the familiar face she saw after school. He had come again, and she was barely holding back from punching him in the face any longer. Moreover, Shibaman was late, and she definitely wanted to punch him too...

She grabbed the handle of her bag tightly and walked out the school door. She started to move forward without looking at the boy. But after a few steps she had to stop when someone grabbed her wrist hard and looked at that person.

"Will you let go of my wrist?"

Y/n rolled her eyes as the boy glared at her with an annoying grin. She couldn't take it any longer but suddenly the grip on her wrist loosened and someone pushed the boy hard.

She looked up at the person who had pushed the boy and saw Shibaman giving him a bad look and she looked at him in surprise. He turned to her and smiled.

"Baby, is there a problem?"

Y/n was a bit surprised by the pet name he used, but she smiled and nodded as he did his role perfectly.When the boy who tried to talk to her wanted to approach them again, Shiba grabbed the young girl's hand tightly and pulled her towards him.

Y/n briefly looked at the hand holding her hand and its owner in surprise. Shiba looked quite serious. A little scary too.

"This beauty has a boyfriend. If you don't want me to kill you here, stay away from her."

Wow, beauty?  Was he always this flirtatious?  It surprised her...

It was the boy across from Y/n that interrupted her thoughts and said, "This isn't over, Shiba."  Did they know each other?

As the delinquent walked away, y/n looked at Shiba.His jaw tightened with anger, and he was gripping y/n's hand tighter.

"Uh... Shiba?"

Y/n showed her hands as Shiba turned to her in surprise.

"It hurts a little bit."

Noticing that he was still holding her hand, he whispered a small apology and withdrew his hand.

"Do you know him? He didn't look like he had seen you for the first time."

Shibaman slowly nodded his head

"An old friend... let's go home. I'll walk with you, I don't trust him."

Y/n didn't understand why he was so serious, but she trusted him. She nodded slowly and they started walking to the neighborhood where they lived together.

After Y/n came home, she thought about Shiba for a long time.His hands were warm and big, his jaw line was very sharp and tightened when he got angry... Even though she was angry with herself for thinking about these things, she was starting to realize somethings...

They had known each other since they were very young. Shibaman's older sister has always seen and loved y/n as her little sister.That's why she grew up with him.

Y/n was a good student, even though she wanted to be a delinquent, her mother wanted her to get a good education.That's why every time she fought, she heard a serious scolding from her mother and it made her sad.That's why she was trying to be a normal girl now.

She and Shibaman have been friends for years.  Maybe enemies? They were constantly teasing and fighting each other. They always said they hated each other, but they always protected each other in such serious matters.

Y/n sometimes wondered if he had the same feelings.  But thinking that it was impossible, she got angry and hated him even more.

***

It was a quiet evening, y/n was starting to get on better with Shiba after that incident at school.At least they didn't want to kill each other.

It was an evening they walked together again.Y/n was telling a funny incident about Sannoh.  Shiba was making fun of her silly mistakes.But that silence didn't last long, when the two young people turned around with the sound they heard, they saw a few people holding metal pipes in their hands.

Even though their faces were masked, Shiba could guess who they were.He knew very well that the matter was not closed.

"Shiba..."

Shibaman took y/n behind him and spoke in a reassuring tone.

"Stay behind me okay? And whatever happens, don't do something stupid."

Y/n nodded and Shiba kicked a person who was swinginga pipe at him. It wasn't a long fight. The fight was reallyshort.But things changed when their leader, who was watching the fight on the sidelines, hit Shiba on the head with a pipe.

"Shiba!"  Y/n shouted in horror.Shiba fell to the ground and tried to fix his vision for a few seconds. He could feel the blood running down his forehead.

Someone leaned over him and unmasked his mask. He had a hideous grin on his face.

"I told you it wouldn't end here, Shibaman? It's been a long time."

When Shiba opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised by the familiar face he saw, but something did happen to surprise him.Y/n ran and kicked the bending boy hard in the face, and the boy fell to the ground. She hit so hard with all her might that the boy could not even stand up again from the pain.

Shiba looked at the young girl in surprise.He also looked a little shocked because she was staring at the boy on the ground without blinking.

Shiba got up from the ground holding his head and walked towards the young girl.

"Y/n?"  She didn't respond. "Hey!"  The young boy waved his hand in front of her face this time.  The young girl slowly turned to him and Shiba smiled.

"I told you not to do anything stupid"

Shibaman was also surprised when Y/n looked at him with her eyes filled with tears. He expected her to make fun of him for being beaten, not cry...

"Hey... are you okay? Are you hurt? Why are you crying?"

Y/n sonbed and spoke

"Idiot! I thought you were going to die.Why didn't you get up from the ground?"

As Y/n screamed in fear and anger, Shiba rolled his eyes and threw his arm around her shoulder.

"Let's go home y/n-chan... you get so annoying when you cry"

***

Y/n was at Shiba's house. She was cleaning the blood from his face with a cotton ball. And she scolded him every time.Of course, Shiba was scolding her too.

After yelling at each other for a while, y/n tossed the cotton to the side and took a deep breath.

"You really scared me."

Shiba became serious with the serious tone in the young girl's voice

"Sorry, that wasn't my intention."

Shiba was sitting on the sofa and y/n was standing between his legs, patching him up

"I was really scared for a moment. What would I do if you were injured more seriously because of me?"

Shiba smiled and nodded

"He didn't attack me because of you, it was a grudge from the past."

Y/n slowly nodded, lowered her head and closed her eyes. Shiba grabbed the young girl's chin and slowly lifted her up.Y/n swallowed with dark eyes staring at her when she opened her eyes.

What was this feeling?  Is it right, now?  Why was he looking at her like that?

Shiba was thinking the same thing.Was it the right time?  Would she kill her if he kissed her?  Or... it was now or never.

As Shiba slowly brought his face closer, y/n closed her eyes and bowed. It was now or never, right?  When their lips met, they both felt a sweet electric wave in their bodies.

A slow, sweet and deep kiss.It contained a lot of emotion and passion.

When they both broke up after a while, Shiba looked into the eyes of the young girl and smiled.

"So are you going to kill me?"

Y/n laughed and shook her head.

"Not today."

HnL taglist : @straysugzhpe @tiddly-winx

[stan-the-cinnamon-roll-uris]

Started watching the new Barry episode yesterday night.

Blacked out for 20 Minutes thinking about Eddie's reaction to that last shot of Bill Hader-...

Bon appetite!

◇

Alright, so maybe Bev feels a little bit bad for laughing as hard as she does.

Really, normally she is good at being sensible if Eddie asks that of her and it shouldn’t be this goddamn funny. On any other day but today really, in any other situation, Bev would just shut it and talk Eddie through it. But not today.

Because as of 10 Minutes ago she watched Eddie lose his mind over 4 seconds of screentime for Richie’s shoulders on TV.

And the thing is she gets it. Richie does have nice shoulders and it’s not like Bev can’t appreciate a nice back in general, especially in a nice suit, but this thing between Eddie and Richie, ever since their return to Derry over a year ago, also has been going on for way too long at this point.

Richie and him keep dancing around each other and because they aren’t able to talk to each other about their feelings like adults, Bev now has Eddie face first lying on her couch.

Because of a pair of shoulders.

There’s no way she won’t tell Stan about this immediately.

“Hey Eddie, say cheese.”

Eddie flips Bev the bird but doesn’t move any further from his face down position on the couch, while mumbling something into the pillow that Bev doesn’t even try to understand as she’s taking the picture. She knows what he’s trying to say, anyway.

“You could just talk to him you know, get to see that nice back up close.”

Just as Bev opens her messenger, Eddie makes her jump back with a yelp by kicking after her with his socked foot.

“Hey! I’m just trying to help.”

Before Eddie can trip her up any further, Bev sends the picture to Stan with a quick caption about how Eddie had to lay down after the new episode, before sitting down on the floor besides Eddie’s head. She starts poking his cheek but doesn’t get any other reaction besides a frustrated groan.

Bev doesn’t hide her laugh at that either “Well, at least you’ve got good taste. Besides Ben, Richie's got the nicest shoulders out of all of you."

Another muffled groan into the pillow “God, they’re so nice!”

The urge to tease Eddie some more almost wins out when her phone starts vibrating with a message from Stan.

Is he ok?

Bev huffs out another laugh at the question, quickly typing in her response

Oh yeah. The 'sexy shoulder shot' (Eddie's words, not mine) at the end just took him out.

A moment later another pair of dots appears on the screen and it takes Bev exactly two seconds to realize how majorly she just screwed up, announcing herself with a startled shriek at her phone which finally gets Eddie to look up with wide eyes.

“What? What happened?!”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry! I thought I was talking to Stan but I accidentally opened the group chat-“

Eddie hurriedly pulls the phone from her hands and throws it back with his own yelp a few seconds later after getting a look at Richie's message at the bottom

Uh sorry but Eddie called it what-

[asteria7fics]

Oh, hey! How’d you get here?!

Welcome to my little corner of the internet!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

I’m Asteria, but my friends call me Teri and my pronouns are she/her!

Asks and DM's are always welcome! However...

I’m a grown adult, so please if you’re a minor that wants to interact with me, keep it to my ask box only! Take it from someone who was privately talking to grown people online much too young, it’s never worth it! Protect your peace so I can protect mine. ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

I write South Park fics and shit! Here’s what you can currently read on my ao3!

The Song of Broflovski (TSOB)

A parody/retelling of the Trojan War through the exploits of some small town fourth graders. Crass and silly and meant to closely mimic the feel of the show. Great for people who don’t like smut, but DO like toilet humor and kids that cuss!

Exactly Where I Left You (EWILY)

My take on a high school au with a little twist, complete with overly-dramatic teenaged angst, love triangles and sexual awakenings. This fic takes place within the same universe as TSOB, though that isn’t required reading to enjoy this story! Be warned though, this one does contain mild smut.

Remplir Sa Bouche (RSB)

A smut-heavy one-shot I cooked up one day, where Stan works as a private chef for Kyle and his wealthy family. This fic exists well outside of my typical universe, and outside of any concept of decency. If you dare take a bite, then I hope you’ll enjoy your meal. Bon appetite!

La Petite Mort (LPM) - Final Chapter Coming 11/15

The much anticipated (and equally smutty) sequel to RSB. The story of LPM was originally meant to be included in RSB, but was cut for the sake of keeping that story short. Please enjoy RSB as the appetizer, and LPM as the main course.

Other content:

EWILY Extras: Short stories that add to the story/context of EWILY! If you’d like to read them in chronological order, please check them out here!

You can listen to music I associate with the EWILY boys and their arcs on my Spotify!

The EWILY boys also got Pinterest boards! Featuring a WIP board for RSB/LPM (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Current WIPs:

FartGate

Untitled Bunny AU

And many more ideas currently waiting for their turn in the oven!

(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Since you’re still here, I’ll share some other things about me!

I’m a double Scorpio, Aries rising and INFP!

I primarily ship Style (or Stanky if you prefer) and Bunny, but I also dabble in Bendy and Yentlman. And Creek, of course. Canon kings.

Though South Park is my primary focus, I also like a lot of other cartoons! I’m also a big fan of Bojack Horseman, Moral Orel, Clone High (the first season rip), Futurama, Smiling Friends, ATLA, Castlevania, the list does kinda go on. Feel free to chat with me about other shows!

I am also an anime enjoyer, though I don’t keep up with a lot of the modern popular shows. Hands down my favorite shows have been Ouran High School Host Club, Black Butler (the manga is better hehe), Madoka Magica, Panty & Stocking, Spy Family, Aggretsuko and Clannad!

Very casual video game enjoyer. Some of my favorite games include TFBW (obviously!! A masterpiece!!), The OG Spyro trilogy, Bayonetta, Assassin’s Creed (especially Odyssey, you KNOW I’m a Classical Greece girly), and The Sims.

I listen to just about any kind of music, but I’m especially partial to pop-punk and k-pop. My absolutely faves of all time are BTS, Twice and FOB.

I’m not afraid to block people, or tags for that matter. Won’t yuck your yum (too much) but if I don’t wanna see it, I won’t be seeing it.

Thank you for reading this long-ass post! I hope you have fun here!!

[bfiaflbox]

- Endanovember -

Pairing: Matty Healy x female reader

warnings: swearing, smoking, shitty writing

Disclaimer: this is a one shot at the moment. It's kinda Christmas themed, completely unrelated to anything else. I just sat down and typed this out so no proofreading here.

The title is from that graham Norton interview where Matty forgets where the album comes out and Ross reminds him that it was "Endanovember". Bon Appetit.

I wrote a second part to this, but I don't like it yet, so let me know if you're even interested in a second part :)

Endanovember 2022

„Are you ok?“ he asks, kind of timid. We‘re sat in a tiny coffee shop just around the corner from where he lives.

„Yeah…“ I struggle to put my feelings into words „I guess I just feel a bit melancholic“

„About what?“

„Christmas? I don’t know. I love the lights and the vibes and the idea but the reality always disappoints.“, I let out a sigh. After Matty doesn’t say anything I continue. „We were discussing Christmas plans in the family group chat and… my brother is spending it at his in-laws, my mom is going on some yoga retreat or whatever and I haven’t spoken to my dad in three years, so I‘m just kind of… here I guess? I don’t know, I feel a bit left behind“ fuck, putting it into words makes it feel real and hurt even more. It’s triggering some deeply rooted insecurity, the feeling of not being loved. Tears prick at my eyes but I’m determined to not let them fall. Proper date that would be, him taking time out of his busy day just to sit here with his … what, situationship? Friend with benefits? to cry about her disfunctional family.

He reaches out and takes my hand, his thumb drawing circles on the back of my hand. He doesn’t say anything at first. He seems to be lost in thought for a bit then says: „You could come home with me.“

„Are you inviting me for afternoon sex? Because I’m not averse to that idea“ I joke

„Nooo, I mean yes, but I was talking about Christmas. Come home with me to spend Christmas with me and my family.“

„What? Don’t you think that’s a bit much to bring your current fling to the family Christmas celebrations?“

„Fling??“ he looks at me kind of confused and hurt. He lets go of my hand.

„… I mean, yeah??“ now I’m not sure anymore. To be fair we haven’t talked about what this thing between us is. To say I liked him would be the understatement of the century but I definitely wasn’t his girlfriend. I met his mates and we spend as much time together as our schedules will allow but he’s a busy man, probably not just with music-related things. I never allowed myself to hope that this was an exclusive thing.

„No! What? Do you think that‘s what this is?? That‘s bullshit!“

I get the feeling I just fucked this up royally.

„I just…“

„Have you been seeing other guys?“ he interrupts me.

„No! I just thought that we haven’t talked about what this is and…“ I’m lost for words.

„Nine months! We see each other every chance we get, we speak every day, you know all my mates, I take you to every event as my plus one, I tell everybody you’re my girlfriend and you think this is just a fling??“

„I don’t know? there hasn’t been a single conversation about this!!“ I’m annoyed that he’s getting mad at me.

„I need a smoke“ he gets up, grabs his coat and leaves.

What the fuck just happened?? I stay seated for a few moments, then decide to go home, too. Fucking asshole, leaving me here like this.

I put on my coat and step outside into the cold late November air. Matty is pacing on the sidewalk in front of the cafe, cigarette in hand, looking upset. Apparently, he did not leave, he did indeed just need a smoke. I kind of feel guilty for doing him wrong like that, even if it was just in my head.

When he sees me, he stops for a second, looks at me and goes „Ok you know what? You’re right, we haven’t talked about this. Let’s talk about this.“

„Can we maybe not do that on the sidewalk?“

„Fine. Let’s go to my place."

He grabs my hand and starts walking. I want to yell three or four different things at him at the same time. I want to ask him where he finds the audacity to be mad at me, why the fuck are his hands this wonderfully warm when it’s freezing cold outside and also I want to beg him to let us fix this because it’s a good thing, whatever it is. But I stay quiet, walking beside him, down the street to his place.

Once we’re inside, I blurt out „I really don’t get why you‘re mad at me because…“ I don’t get to finish my sentence because Matty has pushed me against the wall of his hallway and is kissing me like a starved man. My anger is wiped away instantly and I want nothing else but to feel his lips on my lips, forever. Still, my hands find their way into his lovely soft curls. I make a fist and tug at the strands they grab, admittedly in an attempt to hurt him a tiny little bit.

He groans, breaks away and rasps „Kindly, shut the fuck up, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself for not making it clear enough to you that I fucking love you“ Excuse me, what?

„Excuse me what?“

He huffs out a laugh „Yeah you heard me“

I‘m glad I have the wall for support because right now I’m not sure I would be able to hold my balance. I kind of want to ask him if he‘s taking the piss but think better of it. All I do is look at him while trying to process what just happened.

„Darling, you‘re the kindest, funniest, most compassionate person. You feel so true and reliable and safe. I know I'm not the easiest person to be with but I can leave some of the heavy things behind when I'm with you. And you’re so. Fucking. Sexy“ he kisses me again and I get it. I get it because I feel the same way. Being with Matty feels like coming home to a good place where someone actually gives a fuck. Yes, we are having a great time whenever we hang out, I just thought he didn’t feel remotely the same. But he‘s here, I‘m not making this up, this is actually happening.

„Could’ve said something earlier, Idiot“ I whisper as we break the kiss for air.

„I should have, shouldn’t I?“

I nod. „That would’ve been clever“

„Yeah“ he agrees.

„Yeah because... turns out I love you too and we could’ve had this all along“

„You could’ve said something, too, you know?“ he lets out a soft laugh

„And what, completely humiliate myself?“

„Hey, no kink shaming“

We both burst out laughing and I playfully swat at his chest. Matty hugs me in return and I feel like I'm finally home.