#but i thought jimmy fit better

[neeeeeoposts]

ref under cut

[dykedvonte]

My post about Anya is making like a little ruckus on Twitter and I think it’s crazy how many people like have a problem with it.

Like you don’t have to agree with how I characterize Anya and her actions but it’s more like, why are you focused on only one aspect of her character? Why are you removing nuance from the situation? I don’t see it as giving Curly the benefit of the doubt when it comes to doing better for Anya, but as exploring his character and hers relationship with a the very little authentic facts we get about them. In truth, there’s a lot more I wish Curly did, even if it wasn’t pragmatic but I realize the issue there.

The first psychological horror game in a while that’s real intricate in its storytelling and makes you need to really need to address the morality of intentions and its already getting torn asunder smh 😔

[trans-leek-cookie]

listen I'm not gonna be a Curly apologist he did Fucked Up as captain but I genuinely recommend ppl watch a playthru that goes thru the game in chronological order. It kinda helps clear up the events and gaps between them, bc even tho u See the times, you still experience it out of order.

The stuff Anya says definitely sets off alarm bells but it doesn't seem like he Fully Understands what she means, and I'm going to be 100% honest I think she was trying to repress it herself. This isn't to say that she is AT ALL "at fault" for what happened after and she should've gotten help even if she wasn't ready to fully discuss the issue but I genuinely think she herself was still coming to terms with things, so she didn't necessarily process the full impact before talking to Curly, and a lot of what happens occurs after they're laid off- like this delves into personal interpretation but I genuinely think Anya only registered Jimmy as a serious danger after his outburst towards Curly. Ofc my interpretation is limited bc of the limited pov in game and not having gone through what she has, but it personally reads more akin to coercion over time than a singular Obviously Violent incident (like. Not to say that Sexual Assault isnt violent in nature, just that coercion often specifically works to obfuscate the fact it is a form of violence.) The layoff is a Massive catalyst for her bc of Jimmy, in that she now has a very clear understanding of his capacity for aggression.

To extrapolate a little from the "Dead Pixel" conversation, she starts by saying she Likes The Screen (even though it's fake). While Curly has his quotes about the pixel "not ruining the illusion" which. Y'know is Symbolic Of His Flaws. She doesn't say the pixel ruins it, just that she can't get it out of her mind.

If we take the pixel to represent her Or jimmy, either way the way she talks about it kind of downplays things, like it's a Minor Thing that's Slightly Upsetting, but she's still okay with the big picture. Idk I could be 100% wrong but that is my take

Besides that, Anya tells curly she's pregnant 2 days before the crash, and it isn't until she outright states it that he starts Putting The Pieces Together. I want to note, he says "I'd do anything" and "this doesn't have to go on our performance evals" 1. Before he knows shes pregnant 2. Under the assumption she might attempt suicide, and I doubt he even thought about her using the gun on anyone else before she brings that up. He says literally before the line where she tells him she's pregnant that "being laid off isnt a reason to hurt [herself]". Like I've seen ppl talk about the performance evaluation thing like it's about her and jimmy, but I think he's referring to (his belief) that she might attempt suicide or similar which might genuinely be a consistent thing he's seen her struggle with, given she's able to go through with it. Also just to note: assuming their society is like ours (hellish) reassuring her he won't blab Abt her mental health is like. Genuine reassurance- lots of mentally ill ppl will Not Open Up bc it could have long term consequences (like. For example. On employment) ANYWAYS I hope it doesn't come off like "Curly never failed Anya" but rather "Curly approached this specific situation without the context of why Anya is panicking and (possibly validly) assuming she's dealing with a very different issue"

Also let me say again the time frame is 2 days. We don't Really see what happens, but we know Anya tells Jimmy without Curly knowing. I genuinely believe he maybe didn't do a Great Job in those two days (the fact he says Anya should've talked to Him before telling Jimmy is uhhh. Mm. 1. Your job to create an environment where she comes to you my man 2. Weird to tell her what she should do with HER OWN PERSONAL INFORMATION) but like.

I get a lot of ppl want immediate consequences but consider that they can't really get rid of Jimmy (co pilot. Which is. Y'know it's Own Problems) but also like. Curly knows Jimmy, and we know that Jimmy tends to lash out. Curly should probably Not Confront Jimmy Unless He Knows Exactly How To Keep Him From Hurting Anya. Like I'm not an expert but this is something genuinely important- when confronting an abuser you NEED to take into account the impact it can have on their victim, and sometimes for the victims safety you need to wait until you have a Solid Plan. It sucks but it's important.

And theres discussion to be had about Curly kinda going along with Jimmy saying "well what if we all died" and like. I do believe he Didn't Realize What Jimmy Said. Like he was just processing/trying to keep the situation under control (and failing because he underestimated how willing Jimmy was to hurt everyone including himself).

Like he's definitely an enabler but I would say his problems are mostly before he understands the gravity of the situation, in that he's friends with Jimmy and assumes the best of a man with abusive tendencies, and fails to create an environment that can keep Anya and the others safe. Like, he definitely doesn't handle in game events perfectly (psych evaluation for one- he does do it instead of Anya which is actually helpful, but he still treats it like. Weirdly.)

Idk I have a lot of thoughts about this game and I don't necessarily want to defend Curly but more like. Anya's situation is very delicate (and light on details) so sometimes the way ppl talk Abt it feels like they aren't actually focused on what she wants and what it means to prioritize her safety y'know?

Edit bc I just now figured out kinda how I want to word it: curly is an enabler and making things worse bc he doesn't put a stop to Jimmy's BS, but in the specific scenario we see in game I think he's trying to use his Skillset of like, people pleasing not for Jimmy's sake but for the crews (like "if I nod my head and say I sympathize he won't lash out and hurt them") which like. There are situations which that is unfortunately the safest option (on an individual level yes, but sometimes it's also necessary to prevent abusers lashing out in response toward ppl who are more vulnerable) but it was the Wrong Choice.

It's like. I think Curly was trying and had good intentions, and understood that he needed to protect the crew, but he didn't have the toolset/experience to realize he can't Just go along with things and that he needs to be able to set hard limits, even for ppl he likes and trusts. Like he failed but the failure was "for want of a nail", where it began way before what we see (for want of an understanding of power dynamics I guess.) Again, don't think this makes curly more forgivable or whatever, I just think he's a good example of trying to make the right choices when you never realized you'd have to make these kinds of decisions and therefore are unprepared and/or unaware

Second edit: personally I don't think you can really incapacitate jimmy without there being serious risk (again he's the copilot) but curly should've given Anya the gun when she told him Abt the pregnancy

[mcytscienceside]

He’s gonna be the prettiest dolly at the party!! 

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

ianite pearl ianite pearl ianite pearl

i made this for me and also me, but hopefully others can enjoy it also hehe

anyway no yeah. ianite pearl. She was loyal and "Good" in last life (a world that was disloyal and felt malicious), and was disloyal and "Bad" in double life (a world that emphasized loyalty and felt like a sitcom). thats all im able to verbalize rn. just *points at* LOOK at her. look at her. she's perfect. she's team ianite. she's a killing machine. she's a wet cat. she's everything

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

hey what do you guys think happens to curly after the cryopod times out. does anyone find him? does he die alone? is he found and then succumbs to his injuries?

[br1ghtestlight]

chapter one of my tinimmy week fanfic is posted :) this fanfic is really special to me and i hope you enjoy reading!!!!

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Anniversary To Remember

RP / story written with @tbgblr2 Thanks for taking on the challenge of this idea and my attempt to find an inconvenient birth location that hadn’t been written before. (9.5k words)

“Wha… NO!” you snapped as you looked at the sign in front of us.

“Please?” I asked, with my best doe eyed expression. “I booked it specially for us last year… I know things have changed, but it's perfectly safe.”

“I’ll fall through.” You groan, admittedly giggling at the thought.

“No you won't, they’re not like the old days with wicker baskets, they’re proper, metal structures designed to hold 10 times our combined weight.” I retorted.

It was our second wedding anniversary today. When we discussed it last year, the day after our one year anniversary, it sounded like a great way to celebrate our second. We were going on a hot air balloon ride over the city into the countryside and staying for a romantic meal together with a night in a log cabin to follow.

Only our desires got the better of us, and here we were looking at the sign for the balloon place with you holding your hands under your blossoming belly – 9 months of it.

You had forgotten all about it with all the baby commotion, but when I pulled up to the venue near the airport, it all came flooding back.

“The doctor said you weren’t due for another week, and this will be the last chance we can do something crazy like this before the baby comes. It makes lots of sense to do it now and cross it off our bucket list… plus I can’t get a refund.” I tried to reason with logic.

You shook your head. “I think my belly is almost the size of that balloon the way I feel.” Despite your protest you’re clearly thinking about it and, warming up to the idea, you eventually smile at me.

“That’s my girl” I grin “Don’t worry, it’s only 3 hours”

~•~

I roll my eyes but my lips pull into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. Here’s hoping we can both fit in there.” I joke, rubbing the swell of my heavy stomach.

Leaving the house was the last thing I wanted to do today, and taking a romantic hot air balloon ride? Complete madness. But you were just so excited, this was something you’d always wanted to do for as long as I’d known you. And those doe eyes, I really couldn’t say no.

As we stood and waited for the stewards to set up the balloons, I grimaced at the twinge flaring in my back.

“Oof-” I huff out, and attempt to hold up my bump that’s weighing heavy on my hips and cramping my spine.

“Baby kicking you in the ribs again?” You ask, noticing my expression.

“No… it’s just really heavy. Hoooo- I’ll be glad when this pregnancy is over.”

“Not long left to go sweetie. Here, let me try something.” You stand behind me, arms snaking my waist, and you lift up the large bump containing our baby. My head falls back against you with relief. “That feels wonderful.” I murmur, enjoying the momentary feeling.

After a couple of minutes of respite, you gently let go and the weight returns to my pelvis and I groan softly.

“Are you sure this is safe?” I ask, taking another deep breath, rubbing my belly subconsciously. “I’m not sure I’m up for this…”

~•~

“It’s the safest thing in the world” came the voice across the way. One of the representatives of the balloon company came striding up and shook my hand. “How can I help?”

I picked up my phone and scrolled through to our online voucher. “I’m here for our booking?” I asked, showing the details to the man who approached.

“Ahh!” came the reply. “You’re here to fly. Got your transport right over here. Flying it myself today. Names Jimmy. I couldn’t help but overhear the discussion earlier, let me tell you, kids are the best thing in the world, and once you’re up in the air, you’re going to have stories to tell them to get them to sleep for years to come. Just checking…” he sounded slightly unsure “are you safe to fly in your condition?”

“I have the medical certificate here, got it last week.” I announced. Jimmy looked it over.

“Good all seems to be in order, if you’ll follow me… our chariot awaits!” Jimmy was enthusiastic, I’ll certainly give him that.

~•~

I was glad when Jimmy directed us further across the field, I needed the opportunity to walk off the cramp rippling my stomach. The braxton hicks had been happening on and off today, which wasn’t particularly unusual, but I didn’t want to tell you as I knew you’d only worry. I didn’t want to ruin this once in a lifetime experience for you.

My eyes widened when I saw the basket we’d be riding in; it was huge and a lot taller than I anticipated. It was higher than my waist.

“Erm… how am I going to get in that?” I ask uncertainly.

Jimmy produced a stepping stool, presumably he was used to getting people in and out the large basket but perhaps never someone quite this pregnant before.

~•~

It took a few false starts, with you stepping on, trying to get your leg over the top, giving up, repositioning, trying again and again, but eventually you were able to use my shoulder as support as I lifted you up over the edge of the basket. “Maybe I should have gotten in first and lifted you over?” I suggested, as I scrambled in behind you.

You huffed out a breath as you smiled “I am in no condition to be lifted thank you!”

It was quite roomy all things considered. There was a small cabin to one side where the pilot could sit and do his thing without directly interfering with us. I looked over and saw the laptop computer affixed to a small tray against the wall.

Our area was open sided, exposed to the elements, but thankfully it was a nice day and aside from higher winds when we got up to a decent height, we were expecting clear views and plenty of lasting memories.

We cuddled together as Jimmy announced he was lighting the burners – the whoosh of the gas and the heat of the flames announced we were getting ready to go. I hugged you from behind and as there was a quick lurch from the balloon lifting off the ground I felt your usually soft belly harden under my fingers. “What was that?” I whispered to you.

~•~

“What was what?” I reply casually, keeping my eyes forward at the ground that was slowly disappearing beneath us.

You say my name with a hint of a scolding, knowing I knew exactly what you were referring to. My belly was still contracting under your fingers and I could see in your eyes that you could feel it too.

“It’s nothing, just another braxton hicks that’s all. Don’t worry. Look at this amazing view” I try to distract you “we’re already so high.”

~•~

I calm a little as I feel the tension ease around your middle. Taking your hand in mine we walked over to the edge of the basket. We spend a good 5 minutes with the wind ruffling our hair as we stare out over the city. “There's our house!” I excitedly point out into the distance. “There’s your parent’s place. Oh and mine.” I’m lost in the giddy enjoyment of this, holding your hand tight and don’t notice your grip tightening and tightening more on mine as the next contraction starts to grip your middle.

“If we need to get down, how do we do that?” you asked Jimmy.

“Sorry, nothing much we can do now until we’re outside the city. Nowhere clear to land. Figure we need about 2 hours minimum with this wind speed. Afraid we can’t just turn these things around and head home.” He was smiling but didn’t even look up at you as he responded, he was too focused on twisting the knobs on the gas bottles to get the mixture right and tapping his route onto the laptop to let air traffic control know where we were heading.

I turn back around and grasp you around the waist – your bump pressed in tight against me as I cuddle you close to me. I don’t notice the strained tension that had gripped it a few moments before. Kissing you I whisper “Happy anniversary. Here’s to lots of years and lots of babies!”

~•~

“Lots of babies eh? Let’s see how we get on with this one first before you start planning for a whole football team.” I shift my hips subtly side to side, trying to not think about just how low the baby felt in my pelvis.

“You were right; it is really magical up here. You can see the whole city.” I say wandering as much as I can in the small space, needing to move, looking out at every angle towards the horizon. The sun was shining brightly illuminating the tiny buildings below, clouds littered the perfectly blue sky, but it was the silence that made the experience otherworldly. It was so quiet up here. Just the sounds of the breeze and the occasional whoosh of the gas canisters keeping our balloon in the air.

I ended up leaning against the adjacent wall of the basket to you, each of us looking out at the impressive scenery, but I’m pulled out of the experience but a forceful contraction squeezing and tightening my belly. My breath hitches, pain pressing more urgently now through my body. I try to steady my breathing, long deep breathes through the pain, that’s what they say don’t they? My fingers grip the padded railing and my head dips slightly. Stay calm, just breathe, I tell myself. This might not be labour.

~•~

You suddenly feel my hand rubbing your back. “You ok?” I ask, concern in my voice looking at your white knuckles gripping the side. Your eyes dart between my face and what I’m looking at, suddenly releasing your grip.

“Yeah, fine. Just baby’s really low. Probably just the change in gravity because we’re so high.”

I caught my laugh, sniggering through my lips. “No, you’re just very, very pregnant.” My hands grip either side of your hips and press, the moan escaping your lips echoed out across the wide open air.

I lean in close and whisper so only you can hear “Just breathe through it, we’ll be on the ground in a couple of hours.”

~•~

“You know?” I whisper my reply, turning my head slightly to find you nodding, a grin twitching your lips. “Damn, I thought I’d been more- hooo-subtle.”

Slowly, I turn around to face you, holding on to your biceps as I find myself needing both the physical and emotional support.

“Ooohhhh- why now?” I quietly moan against your chest.

“Shhhhhh it’s okay.” You whisper into my hair, rubbing my back before pressing deep into my hips again. “How long do you think you’ve been in labour for?” You ask.

“Mmmm- I’m not sure. My body’s always aching and cramping these days, I- I didn’t think anything of it….” I reply softly, my breath hitching again with another contraction. My heavy rounded belly is squashed between us and I’m almost certain you’d be able to feel it through your shirt, tensing and contracting against your stomach.

~•~

The next contraction builds without warning as you grab hold of me tight, your fingers digging into my shoulders as you press your forehead into my chest, desperately resisting the urge to scream, knowing it would likely cause chaos with our pilot. My hands grip into the small of your back and you press back into them, you’re suddenly bent at the waist, your feet spread, hips swaying side to side as you groan quietly into me.

My forehead rests against you and to the outside world - or specifically Jimmy at this moment - it just looks like we’re embracing and enjoying the moment.

Suddenly there’s a splash between your legs and you find your dress is sticking to your legs. You go wide eyed. There’s no mistaking it now…

~•~

“Oh my god…” my voice is barely a whisper as I stare up at you in shock. Your expression mirrors my own.

“Erm… is everything alright guys?” Jimmy asks in an upbeat tone that feels alien to the both of us right now.

“Not really no…” I say to our bewildered pilot, before turning back to you. “Honey, I think I need to sit down.”

Your hand is around my waist as you walk me over to the small cushioned bench sitting one end of the hot air balloon basket, you steady me as I awkwardly lower myself down.

“Are you okay here for a minute while I update our pilot on what’s happening?” You ask quietly, one hand affectionately rubbing my stomach.

“Mmmm- yeah… I think so. Thanks.” I reply and watch you walk over to Jimmy to presumably tell him that I’m in labour.

Everything feels different now I’m sat down; my hips ache, my pelvis feels full and my stomach seems to sit further out forcing itself to sit between my thighs. The baby had definitely dropped and was making its arrival known.

Why now… why here… I thought to myself, this baby has a really warped sense of timing. I closed my eyes and rubbed slow circles around my stomach. I tried to stay calm and reassure myself that everything would be okay, but my broken waters continuing to leak from me served as a constant reminder of my advancing labour. My heart raced and it felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath through the rising panic…

~•~

I look Jimmy straight in the eyes. “We need to get down. Now… if not sooner.”

He shook his head “I wasn’t lying when I said we couldn’t. You guys knew the issues before you got on. I’ll put an SOS out so the medical facilities will meet us when we land, but it’s going to be around 2 hours.”

“Shit” I cursed under my breath, as you groaned loudly, the first vocalisation of a rapidly accelerating labour.

I dashed to you and skidded down to my knees, inadvertently sliding through your amniotic fluid in the process, cursing all the way. I grasp your hands as you grip mine - hard - as your eyes look at me pleading, struggling to catch your breath.

I talk you down, calming whispering tones as you catch your breath and groan through the rest of the contraction.

Jimmy struggles putting 2 and 2 together as he asks “what’s happening?”

“We might well be pushing out a baby at 2000 feet if you can’t get this thing on the ground” I summarise.

“Fuck” came the blunt reply from our pilot.

~•~

We stay in that position for the next few contractions - offering me your hands to hold or shoulders to squeeze. Meanwhile, Jimmy is nervously pressing buttons on his map and contacting the base on the ground, trying to find any nearby suitable location to land - his laidback persona starting to fray at the edges.

“Hooo- the baby feels so low…” I huff out after a particularly fierce contraction. “I don’t think… I can sit anymore. Feels like I’m sitting on their head. Need to- oof- stand. Help me up?” I ask holding out my arms.

Your large hands hook under my arms and slowly aid me to standing. My balance is thrown off, the baby even lower, and I stumble a little but you’re quick to react and hold me steady.

“How are you doing love?” You ask me with concerned eyes.

“Okay… as well as I can b-be in the circumstances.” I attempt to joke, motioning to the basket and the open skies around us and the ridiculous situation we’ve found ourselves in.

“I guess of all places to labour, this has definitely got the best views.” You tuck a sweaty strand of hair behind my ear. You’re barely even looking at where we are - eyes focussed solely on me.

“I’m sorry… I ruined this experience for you.” I murmur quietly to you, feeling guilty that you were now missing out on enjoying this bucket-list activity.

“What? Don’t be silly. You’re having my baby, there is literally nothing more important to me than the two of you.” You kiss my forehead and pull me closer.

Before I can respond another contraction steals any words I could say and I’m left with only deep groans coming from my mouth.

The pain and pressure rages through my very core, my hands scramble to hook themselves around your neck as my hips sway and my knees bounce, pulling myself downwards against your sturdy frame, releasing a low moan against your chest.

When the contraction fades and my ability to speak returns I ask “do you think we should maybe start… hoooo… timing them?”

~•~

“Let’s give it a go” I say, glancing at my watch. At this point I’m just playing along as I’d been timing them since I first realised you’d been having contractions. We focus on each other through the course of the next few minutes not even staring out at the view at this point - you’re deep breathing, head buried in my chest and my hands roaming your body trying to rub - anywhere - to make the pain go away.

As the next contraction builds bringing you back into your previous position, hanging low off me and moaning loud through the worst of it, I’m counting in my head. The numbers reach high enough that I just give up as you finally come out the other end and look at me.

“So you know in the birthing class when they say come in when they’re less than 5 minutes apart and last longer than a minute?”

You nod, signalling me to go on.

“I think we should have been there for quite some time now. That was 3 minutes from the last one and lasted at least a minute - lost count after 50 seconds”

Jimmys face, watching all this from afar went white.

I turned and noticed. “Hey you said you’d had babies before. Any tips for this bit? All my knowledge is from videos at this point?”

He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t handle it. Seen my wife in stirrups, seen her bulge as the head came out and I passed out. Came to as she had a baby to her chest and 2 nurses fanning me looking on concerned”

I shook my head. “Great…” I wasn’t sure how much of that you had took on in you slight state of delirium, but either way, the next contraction was building and you held on tight.

~•~

On learning that we should already be at the hospital by now with how close together the contractions were coming, I wiggled out of your hold and moved away. Needing space… to process, to not be touched.

“No…. That can’t- can’t be right. Hoooo-“ I breathed heavily, hands gripping the edge of the basket in the absence of you. Unsure if it was the increasing pressure or the very real possibility that I was going to have this baby in a damn hot air balloon, my brain went into complete denial.

“Babe, I’m sorry. We can time some more to be sure, but this baby is definitely coming, sooner than we want.” You stand next to me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder which I shrug off with a gruff. I know this isn’t your fault, just a case of really unfortunate timing, but the constant pressure and pain has me taking my frustrations out at you.

“Fuck… ohhhh my back….” I whimper, leaning over the railing and jutting my hips backwards. The baby must be pressing on a nerve that has my spine screaming.

Despite snapping at you and shrugging off any contact, your hands grasp my hips and you press your thumbs deep into pressure points in my lower back. The relief is instant, pain reducing to a level that didn’t make me want to vomit, and I exhale a moan into my elbows.

“Did we- find anywhere- else to- land?” I pant out.

You turn to Jimmy, who also heard my laboured question.

“Yes I did, it’s sooner than our original landing spot, but with the wind speed and direction we’re travelling… erm it’s still going to be at least another hour and half…” Jimmy admitted to us.

~•~

“I don’t think she’s going to last an hour and a half!” I rant at Jimmy while rubbing your back. He looks at me with an apologetic look in his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Is there anything in here that we could use? A first aid kit at least?” I ask.

Jimmy digs under the shelf where his laptop sits and pulls out a tiny first aid kit. Leaving you for just a moment I take the first aid kit from Jimmy and open it - inside a small roll of gauze, some tape and a pair of round ended scissors.

“No idea if these will even be sharp enough to cut the cord… not that we could tie it off properly if we could.” I at least sounded like I knew what I was talking about though inside I was panicking at this point.

“Quick…” you groan as the next contraction builds and I rush over to hold your hand, feeling you squeeze tight.

~•~

I take your hand, gripping hard, and twist around towards you curling into your embrace. I hang on to you as the contraction takes hold, the pain sharp and the pressure constant. You notice the sounds I’m making with each contraction are getting deeper, now lowing instinctually with every peak.

A minute slowly passes but the contraction doesn’t fade. I’m still shifting and groaning in your arms.

“Hoooooo- No…. Oh no no no…” I suddenly whimper, panting erratically.

“What is it?” You ask worriedly.

I lift my head up, seeing the apprehension in your eyes. “I- hooohooohoo- no…. not now….”

“Baby, talk to me. I need to know so I can help you.” You plead, cupping my face.

“I think… ooohh- I think I need to push…” I say as I bite my bottom lip, breathing heavily through my nose.

~•~

It was my turn for my face to go white. “Now? No! God, no… not now!” I pleaded to the open air around us. You weren’t listening, or at least not responding, deep breaths being sucked in and puffed out to try and regain a moment of calm before the contractions happen all over again.

“You can’t push. No one has checked you… are you dilated? You might injure yourself. You have to wait until we land!” I’m rambling at this point. Instinctively I know there’s nothing we can do to stop it and it happens when it happens but the only thing going through my head is ‘we’re all alone up here.’

“Please baby do your best. You can’t push… please” I plead.

~•~

The contraction eventually begins to fade, and taking with it the urge to push. I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips hearing your string of panicked questions and your flustered demeanour. Placing a hand to your chest, I calmly say “Honey, breathe.” Echoing the words you’ve previously said to me. “It’s okay, it’s passed now.”

“Oh god, you scared the life out of me.” You pull me closer, wrapping your arms around my waist. “So… you’re doing okay now?”

“Yes, I’m okay now, we both are.” I reassure you, holding the swell of my stomach that’s nestled between us.

You crouch right down so you’re eyelevel with the bump, both your hands splayed wide across its surface. Looking up at me over the swell you mutter “Can’t believe we’re going to meet our baby.”

I giggle, placing my hands over yours. “I know, hopefully not too soon though.” My breath suddenly hitches with a sharp inhale. “Oooohhhh here comes another one. Quick, hold me-” I manage to spit out before the contraction steals my speech and buckles my knees.

~•~

You sink down to your knees, your head nestling into the crook of my neck as you flop your arms over either of my shoulders and leave them draped down my back. I feel your fists clench and release through the bouncing of your forearms as you let out a groan, muffled by the fabric of my tee shirt.

I whisper close to your ears “You’re doing great, keep on doing that, resist that urge to push.”

I feel your head bobbing into me, nodding as much as you could, not able to give me a verbal response.

Your knees are spread wide and I can only hope at this time that your stance being wide doesn’t foreshadow anything happening between them.

I glance to the side to see Jimmy moving towards us to push past my back. He was fiddling with a few ballast bags on the side of the basket, pulling them in and pushing them to the opposite side of the basket.

He didn’t say anything, but after shoving the bags over the other side, re-securing their fixings and letting them out over the edge he went back to the gas controls.

Suddenly we felt the unmistakable feeling of descent, the slight jump in the pit of our stomachs.

“Are we nearly there?” You asked. The contraction was ebbing away and your voice was croaky, only barely loud enough to hear.

“Sorry” came Jimmy, and once more he sounded genuinely apologetic. “We need to drop down a bit to catch a different wind current to get to the new destination. Still got an hour or so.”

Your head dug back into my shoulder. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

~•~

“An hour?! Hooooo- I don’t know if the baby is going to wait that long…” I whisper quietly in your ear, not wanting to admit it too loudly as that would make it real.

“Shhhh, it’ll be okay baby.” You quietly reply as you rub my back. “You’re doing great, keep resisting the urge. It’s not time to push yet…. It can’t be” you added so quietly, whispering to yourself. Hoping.

“The baby feels so so low…ughhh… even without a contraction the pressure… so much pressure.”

“I know darling, but you’ve got this. We’ll be back on the ground before we know it. Just hold on a little bit longer.” You look skyward, pleading to the universe. You really didn’t want to have to deliver this baby at 2,000 feet.

As the balloon dropped to its new level, the basket got caught on a rogue strong gust of wind, jolting everything and everyone inside as it swayed abruptly. With our arms wrapped around each other, we nearly toppled over but managed to stay upright as we both instinctually widened our knees for balance.

“Are you okay?” You ask me, our hearts thumping in shock.

I could only nod as another contraction started not long after the basket steadied itself.

“Jeeze, Jimmy what the hell was that?!” You shout towards our pilot.

“Sorry guys, that was a bit of a rough one.” He joked, readjusting his equipment that had dislodged

Meanwhile the contraction raged through me, every muscle seemingly tense and solid. My hips were screaming, forced apart by the large head barrelling towards my cervix. The pressure… it was too much. My knees were too wide. I couldn’t hold off any longer, I had to push…my body deciding to act of its own accord. Bearing down, a long and low grunt suddenly rattles from my throat against your neck.

~•~

I’d been paying careful attention to your grunts and moans over the past hour or so as concern grew and grew, but the new noises you were making were different. I looked at your face and saw your scrunched up eyes, the blown out cheeks and I suddenly realised.

“No!” I snapped. You didn’t respond. “Don’t push, baby, you can’t. You need to be checked. You know you can’t push until you’re fully dilated. Please… don’t want you to get injured.”

The end of the push came, you opened your eyes. There were tears there, frustration, pain, panic… who knows but all you could answer in response was “I have to push right now!” Soon you’re at it again.

~•~

“Can’t- help- it…mnghhhhhh!” My hands claw at your shoulders, using you to balance as my hips sink lower and my body pushes hard. “Oooohh… I can feel it… baby is moving…down!”

“Shit. Okay, okay.” You try and rationalise and plan, working out what the hell we were going to do now. “Baby, is this it? Is this really happening now?” You ask me.

“Ughhh! I think so… feels very real to me hooo!”

“Then we’ve got to take your panties off. We need to see if you’re fully dilated, if you should even be pushing right now.” Your brows furrow with concern and sympathy with every hitch of breath and groan of pain, knowing this was about to escalate very quickly.

Your hands disappear under my dress and find the dampened fabric of my underwear from my broken waters. You roll them down my thighs but keep them hidden from view beneath my knee-length dress, not wanting to alert Jimmy to what was happening. It was just you and me right now.

“Tell me when this contraction is over, then I can try and see if I can work out how dilated you are.” You say softly, trying to keep me calm and reassured in this far-from-ideal situation.

I nod in understanding, grunting once more in an uncontrollable push before gasping for breath at its end. “Hoooo-hoooo I think it’s passed…” I croak quietly to you.

~•~

I look up to check and see Jimmy occupying himself with his duties, not looking at us. Blowing out my own breath to calm myself I lower you down, so you’re on your hands and knees in front of me.

I stand up and move around behind you. Lifting the back of your dress up, I roll it up to expose your ass, your wide opened legs stretching your panties around your knees.

I let out an involuntary gasp. It’s not lost on you.

“What is it” you gasp. I describe the scene in front of me. Whilst your lips hadn’t yet parted, the baby’s head was definitely bulging, sitting just inside of you. I’d no medical training, but could only presume that we were at the stage where each push had the head begin to show and retreat as you stopped the effort. I explained to you that we were well past the point of needing to check your dilation, and right now we need to get you more comfortable to push… first task will be to get those panties off you so you could open up freely.

I looked up and that’s when I saw Jimmy looking straight at us, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

~•~

“I hope you’ve got some blankets or something up here Jimmy, cos this baby is going to be born before we reach the ground.” You warn him sternly, snapping him out of his panicked staring.

Ignoring our pilot, you focus your attention back to me - shifting and squirming on hands and knees, the dress still lifted showing just how close the baby was to this world.

“How are you holding up darling?” You ask quietly to me.

“Mhhhh- like there’s a bowling ball stuck in my vagina-” I snap with a gruff.

“Right let’s get those panties off before the next contraction so you’re free to move.”

My hands and knees were planted so heavily on the floor of the basket, I couldn’t move. The idea of raising either of my knees to free my underwear seemed too Herculean a task. You had to manoeuvre around me, holding me steady and pulled the garment free from my legs.

As soon as I was free my knees automatically spread opening up my hips further to ease the unbearable pressure in my pelvis. I know you wanted to move me for the next contraction, but I could already feel it approaching. Pressure was building and building, the baby pushing against my opening. With my ass still on full display I went down to my elbows, my forehead almost kissing the floor with my hips up pointing to the sky, and I succumbed to my instincts and pushed.

You held me steady as I pushed, watching in fascination as the bulge got bigger. The sounds I was making had turned primal, instinctual, and you could tell I had mentally retreated into myself and on the job I had to do.

“Oh my god… I think I can see the head!” You cried out after a forceful push showed the smallest sliver of the baby’s head appear just behind my lips.

~•~

My exclamation caused you to lose your focus, immediately stoping pushing and causing the sliver of the head to slide back in. Biology won out though as you were forced to push again only a few moments later and once more the first glimpse of our baby was clear to see again.

You grunt with relief as the contraction finally passed - with the head slipping back out of view again - but you were buoyed by my enthusiasm.

Jimmy, taking a moment to interrupt with a cough managed “sorry no towels or anything… it’s not intended to be used for ferrying the sick, wounded or I guess labouring mothers to be”

“Help me up” you gasp as you pull on my arms. I move around to grab you under the armpits and heave you up, you dress slipping back down your legs covering your modesty again.

“Here it comes” you grunt as you echo the position you’d been in only a moment ago, your arms under my armpits, one hand holding the other wrist, the other gripping tight to my tee shirt in a balled fist. You planted your legs wide and almost growled with effort as the next contraction ramped up.

~•~

My body trembled against you as I pushed, my arms so tight around you grasping at your clothes. Your frame the only thing keeping me upright, the smell of your aftershave the only thing keeping me from panicking. It was an effort to get up but I needed the gravity, something telling me to stand up, to bring the baby down.

“Oh god…” I moaned out heavily against your neck “I can f-feel the head…” my knees squatting slightly during the push, opening up for the baby to peak through.

But when the contraction was over, and the pushing stopped, the head slipped backwards and I whimpered a sob on your shoulder.

The effort of pushing had dampened the back of my neck and hair with sweat, and beads of it glistened on my forehead. Though it was early evening the sun was still bright and warm in the sky, making my temperature soar. Every pore of my skin seemed to tingle, aggravated by the fabric of my dress. My entire being was overheating. I felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath; the air too hot, my skin too tacky.

I shifted in your arms, uncomfortable, frustrated. I needed to do something but couldn’t find the words. You noticed me pulling at the hem of my dress and knew what my subconscious was trying to do. Still holding me upright, your hands roamed my back and found the zip of my dress, pulling down, helping to free me from the cotton prison.

~•~

Your eyes opened as I reached down and grabbed the base of your dress, suddenly realising what I was doing. You stretched your arms out, hands placed lightly on my shoulders as my body raised up, pulling the dress with me as I went.

The first thing I noticed was the bump stopped the dress from coming up. I had to tug it a little to get it unstuck. I pulled it up over your breasts and over your head, then releasing it from one arm to the other until it hung loosely from my fist, draping on the floor.

The sigh of satisfaction as you felt the cool breeze rush over your exposed, overheated skin, instantly cooling you was palpable. You were now naked except for your sports bra you had put on this morning for comfort.

You gripped hard on my shoulders again, the next contraction building as you managed to grunt out “that feels so nice… but don’t you dare lose that dress. I need it to get home.”

~•~

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You whispered back to me with a laugh.

I held on tight to you as the contraction took hold; my body pushing, squeezing, opening for the baby.

“Keep going baby, you’re doing wonderfully.” You offered words of encouragement against the moaning I was making in your ear.

“I don’t feel like I’m making any- mnghhh- progress.” I say releasing the push with a huff.

When the contraction had waned I shifted out of your hold a bit. Holding the underside of my low bump I swayed gently, facing outwards towards the stunning horizon, letting the cool breeze wash over my skin in the break I was given.

“How long til we land now?” I dared to ask our pilot, who’d been giving us a wide birth since I started openly pushing.

“We’re getting closer, I’d say just under 45 minutes.” Jimmy answered simply, completely avoiding looking in my direction.

“Do you reckon - hoooo… we’ve got any hope of making it to land before this baby c-comes?” I ask in vain, taking one hand off my bump to hold the side of the basket, my hips shifting round in wide circles.

Your hesitation gives me all the answers I need. Still you reply “Whatever happens babe, you can do this. And I’ll be right by your side.”

“Well you’re not exactly going to go anywhere.” I joke before a contraction suddenly strikes and I hiss through my teeth.

Standing in the a corner of the basket I grasp the padded railing with both hands, gripping the cushioning so hard my knuckles whiten. The baby presses lower and lower and I rock, and groan and push alongside its efforts. My hips jut backwards towards you, my back flat as I lean into the baskets edge, nearly wailing with the efforts of the push.

“Can- can you see… ohhhh…. Is it coming out now? Mghhhhh!!!” I cry out mid-push.

~•~

“I can see it baby, I can see it!” Even against all of my natural instincts to panic I’m getting invested in your progress and can’t help but get excited as things show progress. The bulge between your legs was now significantly bigger than when I had first noticed it, and whenever you were pushing, the head was forming into a genuine teardrop shape, though still not holding its place when you stopped.

“Shit” came the voice from Jimmy. Panicking, expecting to get some bad news, my eyes shoot over to him just to see him staring straight at you, focused clearly on the dark patch between your legs.

“Don’t you dare freak out or feint… there’s 4 of us in this basket relying on you to get us safely on the ground” I admonished. Jimmy in turn shook his head and thanked me, breaking his reverie and focusing back on the laptop.

Focusing back on you, you grunt as you push again. “You’re doing so good baby. I can see the head a lot when you push. Keep focused… if you want, you can reach down when you push and feel it yourself”

~•~

I tentatively release one hand's grip on the barrier, the excitement in your voice making me desperate to feel the baby. But I can’t seem to let go, the effort of pushing is too consuming and I’m scared to let go of the support. I give a loud grunt with a big push, feeling my lips starting to burn with the stretch.

But then it’s over, contraction faded, and I bring myself back up to standing. Feeling more confident without a contraction to let go of the support, I place one of my hands between my thighs and I can feel it; just behind my slightly parted lips is our baby.

“Oh my- wow!” I exclaim, making first contact with our child. “I can feel them, that’s our baby.”

“I know, and you’re doing wonderfully darling. We’ll be meeting them soon” You say, grinning ear to ear and stepping towards me.

“It’s got hair!”

“That’s not surprising, considering the amount you’ve got.” You joke and stroke the thick locks of hair that cascade past my shoulders, tucking wayward strands behind my ear.

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” I ask, my fingers still delicately stroking the bit of head that’s peaking out.

“I’ve told you I don’t mind. As long as they are healthy and happy.”

“I know, I know…. I’m kinda hoping for a girl though…” I admit.

I feel the next contraction brewing, but I don’t want to remove my hand from my crotch. Instead I back into the corner of the basket, keeping one hand on my baby and the other flying out towards you for support.

My body sinks into a squat when the contraction hits and everything squeezes downwards. I take a big gulp of air and push… hard, feeling the baby’s head inch forward into my palm.

~•~

My hand reaches out to you, your hand on my shoulder and my hand in turn resting just under where your bra strap rests. As you sink down I follow you, ultimately ending on my haunches so I’m eye level with you. Whilst you’re desperate to close your eyes during the push you fight to keep them open and look into my eyes, my smiling demeanour giving you a level of comfort in this trying time. Suddenly I lean forward and place my second hand over yours so we are both cupping your lips. I feel the roundness of your hand as it envelops the bulge there and get in close. “Push!” I urge.

There’s no stopping you, your cheeks are puffed out and your brow is furrowed but you keep your eyes on me. Your mouth is wide and groaning as you make the effort but still we keep that connection.

My hand is pressed outwards as is yours as your lips part and your fingers rub the slick, surprisingly spongy mass slowly making its way out from between your legs.

You suck in your breath as you need a moment to get your strength as I say “again?” and you’re back at it, groaning loud and low, the hand on my shoulder grasping hard.

~•~

It was just you and me at that moment, the rest of the world completely shut out. You and me, together bringing our baby into the world.

My chest heaves with every rasped breath, my breasts resting atop the large pregnant swell that hung between my open thighs. My boobs had gotten bigger as I approached the end of this pregnancy and this bra was the only one that didn’t pinch.

Your eyes light up as we both feel the head sliding forwards into our hands. But the pain is astronomical and I’d lose myself entirely to it if you weren’t beside me right now. The baby fills even more of my palm and I can’t help but cry out “…Hurts…. Burning…” in between my laboured breaths.

The contraction starts to ebb away but I don’t want to lose this progress. It’s almost too much to bear if the baby slides back again now. I give a final long grunt, pushing as hard as I could while the contraction was still present, huffing as I release the push and hoping the baby stays put.

~•~

I watch in awe as I see you put incredible effort into a push, your face both incredibly contorted and at the same time, focused on it’s one task. Your hand moves away from between your legs, batting mine back at the same time. It twists and grabs my fingers, as my eyes sink down to the area that was previously covered.

Your hand squeezes my fingers as you let out a roaring sound, unlike any I’d heard so far. The hand on my shoulder digs in to the point where I’m certain your nails will leave embedded marks, but still my eyes focus between your legs.

In front of my eyes I see your lips spread around the head moving out, red, firey skin moulding outwards, spreading like a petal on a flower. The teardrop shape of the head, expanding outwards.

You gasp. “Burning… burning… burning, hurts” it’s almost incoherent babbling at this time, but whatever you were doing had some positive effect, as once I see your shoulders sag, right there between your legs was the most perfect oval of darkened, matted, soggy hair that I had ever seen.

“You did it baby!” I yell in triumph. That’s when I realised that you weren’t paying attention. It’s clear that at this point, there’s nothing you can do but focus on the ring of fire between your legs. It’s all consuming at this point, your knees are quivering trying not to lose control, your hands are squeezing and digging nonstop. Your eyes are closed and scrunched hard.

Youre gasping “Pull it out! Help me!” There’s nothing I can do at this point but sympathise as you struggle at this most gruelling stage of the process.

~•~

I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t move. I’m entirely lost in this moment; blinded by the pain of being stretched far beyond anything I thought possible. But it was more than just the spreading of my sensitive lips - my hips were wrenched apart, the baby shoved against my pelvis, the nauseating feeling of being so… full. I couldn’t take it.

My body started to tremble, you could feel it beneath the hold you had on my ribs and you could see me shaking in front of your eyes.

“I can’t do this!” I wailed, eyes scrunched and tears leaking past my lashes. “It’s too big! Uhhhh- fuck. Help me.”

“Oh baby…” you whispered, your heart breaking at seeing me in so much pain. “I know, but you are so close. You can do this.”

“I c-can’t!” I sobbed.

“Yes, you can. You are the strongest, bravest woman I have ever met. You can do anything, and you can do this. Just a little bit longer, I promise. Then when the next contraction comes, you push with everything you’ve got, okay? The head is almost here…”

I nod. That’s all I can manage. My head lolls forward, both my hands clawing at your shoulders, my entire body trembling, and we wait. We wait through agonising second after agonising second for the next contraction.

~•~

Soon it’s upon you. “It’s coming” you manage, before gripping me tightly again and dropping your chin down, closing your eyes and giving it all you’ve got.

I watch the oval shape between your legs quiver and a few seconds later start to move. You gasp, taking a breath and start again, still in mid contraction. More movement.

“Go! Go! Go!” I’m chanting, it seems to help. Finally your lips turn white, all blood drained from around them as they are stretched to their widest point.

You gasp and start panting, something primal in your memories from videos we have watched telling you to pant out the last push, and suddenly there’s a rush. You jump. There’s a gush of more fluid. My eyes go wide, and teary, what I’m seeing seems both the most natural thing in the world and at the same time the most unreal thing ever.

Deep in your squat, dangling between your legs, is the back of a baby’s head.

Your hand lets go of mine and reaches down to hold it. You’re bewildered, somewhat exhausted and sore, but you’ve accomplished a major milestone.

~•~

Gasping, my fingers delicately roam the whole circumference of the head that’s now outside of me. “Oh… hi baby.” I say softly to our child.

I look up at you and see the tears in your eyes. “Oh my god… oh my god…” I sob through my smile, not quite able to form any other words through the relief and awe of what’s just happened.

Your hand joins mine, cupping the head together as you lean forward to kiss me. It’s salty with my sweat and tears. “You, are incredible.” You whisper, our foreheads pressed together.

In no time at all, the respite is over and I’m squirming and shifting again in your arms from an approaching contraction. Letting go of our baby’s head my hands brace against my thighs.

“Hooooo- babe, need to move…” I groan, my legs and ankles suddenly protesting against the deep squatting position.

“Do whatever you need to do, where do you want to be?” You ask, trying to second guess what I’d want but also knowing I was acting entirely on natural instinct.

I couldn’t speak, instead my hands used your torso as a ladder - lifting myself up and getting down onto my knees, my feet pointed behind me in a v-shape. I felt instantly more stable, more in, kneeling so close to the floor.

The baby was on its way, its arrival immanent, I could sense it. Some primal instinct in my very DNA unlocked. I needed less physical support while on my knees so my hands released you, instead reaching behind to unclasp my bra. In my haste to remove my final layer of clothing, I forgot where we were for a moment and it was only on seeing your raised eyebrows I realise I’d whipped my bra off and casually thrown it overboard.

~•~

I couldn’t help it. I knew instinctively that I should be looking at you, but something made me follow the trajectory of your discarded underwear as I watched it soar over the side. My eyes followed it over the edge and as I lifted myself up off my haunches back to standing, I noticed the ground was very much closer than what I had expected.

“Jimmy… what’s happening?” I bellow out to our pilot. My brain went ‘he’s fainted, we’re going to crash’ and my natural instinct was to panic, but my eyes were drawn back to you, kneeling on the ground, hands back between your legs supporting the head of our baby. I couldn’t turn and look for him. Thankfully he returned the question with his own shouted answer.

“We’re nearly there. School field is just over there.” Relieved at his response, I briefly turned my head to look at him, to look at where his hand was pointing. I followed the direction and I saw blue lights in the distance. I saw a wide open area, which was the football and athletic fields of a school. I didn’t recognise it, but I knew we were nearly down. Your bra had landed in some unfortunate persons back garden. Might be some explaining to do for the occupants later.

I heard you grunt as my attention was drawn back to you. You looked radiant, like some sort of primal goddess, nude and backlit by the sun. I saw the baby had turned and you had started to push. Your grunts were audible as you pushed your hips forward, opening up the passage for the baby, your hands gently cupping its head.

Another grunt, and the first shoulder was free. A second grunt and the second shoulder. I dashed forward and skidded to the ground, stopping just in front of you with my hands skimming the ground between your legs, and more importantly directly under the baby which was out to its torso.

And with a triumphant yell from you, it flopped down into my hands, slick, covered in vernix, remnants of blood, and flooding my hands with yet more amniotic fluid.

“You did it baby…” I’m almost shocked thinking it’s all over.

~•~

Pure relief flooded through my entire body as the baby slipped into both of our awaiting hands. My mouth was dry, my brain in shock, and I’m only able to mumble “baby… baby…” over and over as I pick up the slippery newborn and immediately bring them to my bare chest. The need to see, to hold, to nurture was completely overpowering.

When the baby made its first gurgling cry against me I thought my heart may explode. I sagged back into the floor, exhaustion taking hold, and stared at the baby in my arms. Their little scrunched up face as they cried, their tiny hands with ten little fingers, their small feet with ten tiny toes. I had to see every inch of our baby, to check they were okay, and when I readjusted them against the curves of my body I announced “It’s a girl!”

You knelt next to me in the corner of the basket, looking over my shoulder totally transfixed and enamoured with our newborn. “You did it baby, I’m so proud of you!” You cupped my head and kissed the side of my face, my cheek, my shoulder, and eventually my lips. You couldn’t stop the emotional wave washing over you at the sight of your wife and newborn daughter beside you, wrapped in your arms.

I couldn’t quite believe it was over - the baby was here. Born in the basket of a hot air balloon. I stared down at our daughter and giggled to myself.

“What is it?” You asked, not able to wipe the beaming smile off your face.

“I can’t believe she’s here. That that just happened. That I just gave birth in a bloody hot air balloon!” The stress from the situation and relief that we were all alright had turned to exhausted hysteria, I simply couldn’t help the laughter.

“I guess she just wanted to make a grand entrance into this world.” You cooed, looking down at the infant already nuzzled against my breast.

“I think she might be a little troublemaker.”

“Just like her mother then.” You teased, kissing me again.

~•~

“Hang on tight” comes a call from Jimmy giving us a few seconds of warning where I grabbed hold of you as the balloon finally touched the ground with a thump. I threw your dress over you to cover your modesty as I got up to walk over and thank Jimmy for how well he had done in outrageous circumstances.

As I saw 2 paramedics dash towards the balloon as the gas valves were cut and the balloon itself started sinking to the ground behind us, I heard you give another groan.

“Baby?” I turn and look at you.

“I don’t know… another contraction.” You replied.

I dashed over. “No, can’t be. We had scans… there was only one baby in there.”

As the first paramedic threw their bag over the side of the basket at vaulted over the top I looked at them pleading.

“I don’t know what’s happening. The baby is born but she’s still having contractions. Is something wrong?”

“Let’s take a look see and figure this out, I’m sure it’s fine” came the professional sounding reply as his partner came on board.

They knelt down and looked you over, checking over the baby and declaring that everything was ok. They took a moment to clamp the baby’s cord, and rubbed your belly a little.

“Ok my dear… this looks good. Give me a good strong push” they instructed.

I gasped “is there another in there? We didn’t know.” The stress of the day was getting to me.

“No sir. Your wife is just ready to pass the afterbirth.” As he said it, he collected the placenta from between your legs and checked it over for completeness. “Well done, looks like this is about as close to a textbook delivery as can be… you know except for flying through the air whilst doing it.”

To say I breathed a sigh of relief would be an understatement.

[el-ripley]

okay but increasingly unpopular opinion, mickey wasn’t the best boyfriend to begin with. like I think he cared about rose but remember episode one where he’s “checking if she’s okay” after the explosion but really just wanted to go to the pub to watch the game? remember in episode 4/5 with the slitheen and he’s all “don’t read my emails” like he’s got something to hide? I know we don’t actually know what was on those emails but it was contextually implied that they were emails, as in, with another woman/women or something else inappropriate.

I know rose wasn’t great to mickey with the “leading on” bit but I think they both knew the moment she ran away with the doctor and over the course of the missing year and through the casual interactions when she came back for visits that they weren’t in a serious and committed relationship anymore. and maybe they both wanted to hold onto it even after the romantic feelings were gone because they were familiar and safe but it was over for a long time and neither really wanted to admit it.

i’m just saying: you’re right, rose wasn’t winning girlfriend of the year or anything but neither was mickey. rose became a worse “girlfriend” after she left but mickey only started being a better “boyfriend,” and person in general, after she left too.

they simply weren’t right for each other but tried to hold on for the familiarity, comfort, and safety of each other.

Unpopular opinion(?): Rose was an asshole to Mickey. Mickey stayed "with her". And she kept up the appearance of being his GF, kisses when she came home and when she left, asking for her passport as an excuse to see him, etc etc. It doesn't help that everyone assumed he killed her meaning there was a year he couldn't move on. But his "I'm the tin dog" wasn't far off. Actually he wasn't even a dog because she was clearly upset/annoyed when he asked to come. She was angry at him for seeing someone else while she was gone; like she had a fucking leg to stand on in that argument. She is the one who abandoned him. Brushed off his complaint that he can't even date a girl from a shop because he's waiting for her. She even says there is nothing left for her on earth without the Doctor, says it directly to him. l know its kind of his character story. But Rose just treated him like shit. Doctor wasn't much better especially 10, but Rose was his """girlfriend""" so its actually awful

[vax-merstappen]

Just home fluff with Max Verstappen, like a cozy Sunday

sundays are for racing (mv1)

ooh i love home fluff!! hope you enjoy this, anon!

summary: it is winter break so max is home this sunday, you decide to show him that it's okay to relax and take some time off.

It was the first weekend after the Formula 1 season had ended. You woke up in the bed you usually slept in alone to see that for the first time in a while, your boyfriend was sound asleep on the other side of the bed. It was comforting to know he was home and that everything in your life was together again.

You sat up and looked to the foot of the bed, seeing that Jimmy and Sassy were curled up between you and Max's legs. Your heart filled with joy, knowing your whole little family was back together. You closed your eyes for a few more minutes, content with your current situation. But then you had the wonderful idea to make breakfast in bed for your boyfriend. He had just finished an intense season of racing where he had won his third world championship. You wanted to do something special for him.

You stretched and climbed out of bed, making your way to the kitchen. The cats followed you and you made sure to put some food in their bowls before getting to work on breakfast for your boyfriend. After investigating the fridge, you decided on some toast and eggs, simple but tasty.

It took you a few minutes to make it, but you then assembled all of the ingredients on a tray along with a glass of milk. Pleased with the results, you went into your bedroom to find that your boyfriend was no longer in bed. Instead, Max was standing up and fully dressed in exercise gear.

"Max..." you said with a sigh. "Why are you going jogging?"

"Because I need to stay in shape," he replied, matter of factly.

"But the season just ended? Surely you can have a lazy day?"

He looked at the plate of food in your hand. "Was that for me?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd make you breakfast in bed so you could relax after the season. A breakfast of champions."

His gaze softened and he smiled at you. "Well I guess I can enjoy that before I jog."

He sat down on the bed and you sat beside him, wanting to be close to your boyfriend after being apart for so long. You were willing to spend any moment with him that you could get, even if it was just watching him eat breakfast.

"Thank you, darling. I wasn't expecting you to make me breakfast."

"Just wanted to do something nice for my handsome, incredible boyfriend. But he almost ruined it by going for a jog on what should be a lazy day," you teased.

"Who said today was supposed to be lazy?"

"I did. I always spend Sundays being lazy, you know, staying cozy in the house before I go back to work on Monday. I always relax on the couch and watch movies or your races."

He seemed thoughtful. "Well Sunday is usually the least lazy day for me. Sundays are for racing."

"Not when you're on break."

Max looked you in the eye. "Well I guess one lazy Sunday won't hurt anyone. You mentioned relaxing and watching movies?"

"I sure did."

"That doesn't sound so bad anymore."

You smiled and hugged Max as he finished the last bite of his food. "Let me show you how it's done. But first you've got to change into comfy clothes and not fitness clothes."

You grabbed his plate and set it in the sink. You could wash it later on a less lazy day. For now, you needed to complete your movie setup. You closed the curtains over the windows that the sun was shining through and you turned on your faerie lights that were strung around your living room. You grabbed the bowl of snacks you kept in the kitchen for such lazy days and set it on your coffee table. Finally, you got out your favorite comfy blankets and set them on the couch. By the time Max had returned wearing sweatpants, everything was set up.

"Wow, you have quite the movie theater", Max commented.

"I set it up since summer break," you explained. "The cozy room makes lazy days just so much better."

"I agree," Max said, joining you where you were seated on the couch. "So what movie are we watching?"

"Maybe Gran Turismo? I heard that was good?"

Max smiled at you jokingly. "I thought Sunday's weren't about racing when I'm on break?"

You rolled your eyes. "This isn't what I meant. But we can watch something else instead? Maybe Top Gun? I love that movie and it's similar to racing?"

Max nodded. "Sounds good to me."

You queued up the movie and leaned back on the couch. Max shifted closer next to you and wrapped his arm around you. You leaned your head on his shoulder and watched as the introduction to the movie began to play. With his other arm, Max grabbed your hand. You stayed together like that, simply enjoying the comfort of each other as the movie played.

---

Later that day, you and Max were now laying horizontally on the couch. Your bodies were so tangled together that getting up would be a struggle later. You were three movies into your movie marathon and you had not stood up from the couch once.

"You were right," Max mumbled into your ear.

"What do you mean?"

"Lazy days are great. Maybe I should spend less days worried about constantly training and more days curled up here with you."

"I would love that, Max."

"Just like I love you."

[your-local-uwu-artist]

THE FINALE

once upon a time I hit timmy turner with the pony beam and then this happened

notes under the cut!

Little Wisher (timmy)

-he's a pegasus because I felt like 'dimsdale' sounds like it would be a pegasus town fsr

-I figured he'd be a blank flank sense he's only 10

-I considered 'wishing well' as a name instead but thought little wisher sounded cuter

-I find it bland that when someone ponyifies a character with brown hair they just make them brown so while in the original post I did include a brown version I much prefer him in purple~

-Wanda and Cosmo get to keep their names, They're still fairy godparents, their species is closely related to the breezies

Pineapple Square (spongebob)

now that I think of it he could probably keep his full surname of squarepants but just 'square' sounds like a dessert so I like both

-I considered making him a merpony but decided I wanted all of them to be ponies and make the diversity in the type of pony instead

-I also considered making him a pegasus but I felt being an earth pony would probably fit better

-I also considered a number of cutie mark options, but sense a lot of ponies have cutiemarks related to their job I felt a spatula would make the most sense. I added some fun flowers to go with it though :3

-I like to think the equestria equivalent of bikini bottom would be a town on a beach thats on the outskirts of equestria, and that it's full of a bunch of different species and not just ponies

-fndjsanfk drawing fluffy hair is so fun :D

Neutronic Sprinkles! (jimmy)

-original was gonna be 'sprinkle Neutron' but I don't think it runs off the tongue well

-anyway I'm naming him Sprinkles because apparently some people call sprinkles 'jimmys' and his hair looks like icecream

-this is also why he gets to keep a nuetrual brown color scheme because chocalote ice cream

-so i ALMOST made him a unicorn, but then I reconsidered, because i felt him being an earth pony would make him being a super genius much more impactful, like, unicorns tend to be associated with the science-stuff and invention and innovation of Equestria. generally speaking at least. additionally the apple family has got us under the impression that country/southern=earth pony and retroville is in texas so *shrug*

-His cutiemark is the symbol from his shirt, I think he probably got his cutiemark earlier then most, and plenty his age are still blank flanks

Scifi Phantom (or Phantastic) (danny)

-his name came to my mind immediately, idk why really

-he's a unicorn mostly because no one else is

-in his pony(non ghost) form he has black mane and light blue coat, his cutie mark is a purplish planet with a ring, and some snowflakes around it, it turns blue in his ghost form

-I figured it would make sense to keep his cutiemark concealed as Phantom, sense that's probably 'secret identity 101 in equestria

-in pony form his tail is just basic spikey and short, as a ghost it's all fun and spectral!!

[crackedhrglass]

despite alex's original plan for jimmy snakes (being "cursed, ghost rider style") my personal hc will always be that he is normal and completely detached from any supernatural weirdness and anomalies because i think it fits better with where i see him in stan's life (especially compared to ford).

BUT. the thought of stan flirting with a sexy cursed biker has so much potential for jealous, hypocritical ford.

the way i see it, ford can't stand anyone flirting with stan, but if it's a hot mermaid? a tall, spooky ghost biker? a spider babe? it's infinitely worse because in ford's eyes, those are things he can't compete with. ford has always been drawn to the strange and inhuman, even when it comes to romantic/sexual attraction, and he assumes stan must be just as fond of them, even though stan has only ever had eyes for his brother.

stan calls him out on his hypocrisy, considering his relationship history with bill, and ford just rolls his eyes with his arms folded like, "that's different! we were business partners first and foremost! and we were only intimate in my dreams, so it barely counts!" while desperately trying to convince stan that the handsome undead biker that keeps winking at him and ruffling his hair is more dangerous than whatever tf he had with bill.

[crytil]

I finally finished my day 13, very much wanted to color this and fully have a brain process. Anyways this idea popped in my head for day 13 and thought it would be fun for DDVAUVEMBER.

This is the Hotguy!Tango and Cuteguy!Jimmy au obviously inspired by @xmaruu11 and @kitsuneisi au and design to fit with DDVAU.

Also the reason Tango’s hair is blue is because it based on the Hermitcraft 9 skin and also to keep his civilian identity a little less obvious since it would be quite obvious with his standard hair. Changer the outfits to better fit the character and also because of that time Jimmy was Ken, the color are overall the same to ddvau au for Hotguy and Cuteguy.

[finsterwalds]

Got a very inspired ask inquiring about the villains in my Better Call Saul french AU so here's Gus aka famous chef Gustavo Faure and his main waiter Léo haha. More info under the cut as always...

So at first I thought about making Gus a fast-food owner like his canon counterpart, but it just doesn't fit really well if you wanna frenchify it all with nuance. We have fast-foods ofc and we do enjoy fried chicken lol, but Los Pollos Hermanos has this very distinct "patriotic" feeling that wouldn't translate as well in France, as fast-foods are american in conception. I thought about making Gus the owner of some cheaper chain like Courtepaille lmao, but it feels too memey and doesn't have the prestige that his character has canonically. Gus assimilates perfectly into american society with his brand, and caters to the people locally, so I thought it would be fair for him to do the same in France. And if you wanna cater to lovers of chic, gastronomy and prestige, what's better than being the chef of some fancy restaurant, right? It felt cliché af and looses the "close to the people" part but it honestly fits his character well, imo...

He would be extremely respected locally but still friendly and approachable due to him crafting some kind of tragic backstory for himself and his restaurant. Basically he would play the "Chilean refugee that climbed to the top of foreign cuisine" card and everyone would buy it. French people love to eat and are fond of mixing their culture's meals with more international food, so yes: I think he would serve a fusion of french/Chilean food!

He'd also be an entrepreneur as famous french chefs often have side businesses like bakeries or published books, which I think respects his canon personality pretty well. Fancy french chefs also like to hang out outside their kitchen to greet their guests and I can totally imagine Gus do that. He'd still be able to conceal his shady side nicely. He's canonically seen to like fine wine, good products, and cooks Paila Marina for Walt, so congrats to Gus for already being french in conception and not making this idea feel like a stretch lol.

I have no idea about his exact role concerning drug traffic in Europe, as I said I'm pretty ignorant about that… But he'd use his business and image to form connections and launder his money. His backstory with Max stays the same in the AU aka Max was his business """"partner""" who died killed by the Salamancas.

I don't think changing his first name was necessary, but his last name sounding american I thought I would just frenchify it a bit lol. I don't know what the name of his restaurant would be, but definitely something short, spanish, and aesthetic/poetic. Maybe a reference to Max to allude to the Hermanos part.

Bonus : I know they don't canonically meet, but in my AU I think Chuck, as a rich lawyer, would eat at Gustavo's often. They'd be acquainted :) And maybe Jérôme aka Jimmy meets him thru his brother and later discovers Gus' shady side, when the events of BrBa start.

[inkedbydesire]

Can’t Let Go (Pt 1)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem Reader

A/N: This is inspired by an Adele song called “Can’t Let Go.” Please give it a listen if you’ve never heard it. It will enhance your reading experience (I hope 😂).

Warnings: None.

Summary: You thought you would never hear from him again. And truthfully, even that was too soon. They say that time heals all wounds. So with time, you convinced yourself that closure wasn’t necessary, that you didn’t need to understand why he ripped your heart to shreds. Somewhere along the way you even managed to persuade yourself that you were completely over the whole ordeal and completely over him. But after a full year of silence, a single letter arrives, threatening to undo everything you fought so hard to move past.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Jimmy is kinda sorta my muse right now. So here’s another one *Dj Khaled voice.* I apologize in advanced for any grammatical errors or typos I may have missed during my proofreading.

*************************************************

"Jonathan fucking Fatu." 

You muttered the words to yourself, then took yet another sip from your wine glass. Well, honestly, it was more of a gulp. You practically downed the whole thing. And this wasn't even your first or second glass. Normally, you never drank this much in a day, but tonight seemed like a special occasion. After a grueling shift in the ER, you'd expected to come home to a warm bath, a good meal, and reruns of Bob's Burgers. Not a letter from your ex-boyfriend, Jonathan, who you hadn't heard from in over a year.

When you stopped by your parent's house after work because your mom said she had something for you, the last thing you expected was a letter from Jonathan. No wonder she'd sounded so strange on the phone. No communication had passed between you and Jonathan for so long that he had no choice but to send the letter to the last address he remembered, your parent's house. He knew nothing about your apartment. He knew nothing about your life anymore. And why would he? He wasn't a part of it.

"I'm not doing this." You muttered aloud as you stood up, holding your wine glass in one hand and the letter in the other. You slowly walked into the kitchen and hovered over the trash can, you held the letter there for a moment before you dropped it in. Then, you turned off the light and returned to the living room, sinking back onto the couch. You tried to focus on anything else other than that damn letter but no more than five minutes later, you were back in the kitchen, digging through the trash.

This time, you didn't waste a second before heading back to the couch with the letter clutched between your fingers. You decided to leave the wine alone telling yourself that there was no need to add a hangover to your list of problems tomorrow. Shifting your attention to the letter you finally opened the envelope and unfolded the pages. As your eyes skimmed over Jonathan's neat handwriting, memories that you'd worked so hard to suppress rushed at you all at once as if you'd just been blindsided by a semi-truck.

High school. Sophomore year. That was when you first met him. Your parents had uprooted your whole life and moved you to Florida when your dad got a better job offer. You'd been terrified, forced to leave behind everything and everyone you knew. You were social, but not enough to feel okay with walking into a new school where everyone already had their friends. You had no idea how to approach anyone. You knew if you didn't find a way to fit in, you'd spend the next few years alone.

Before you could muster the courage to talk to anyone on your first day, Jonathan was the first student to speak to you.

"You must be new" he said to you casually as you stood in the hallway staring down at your schedule. The guidance counselor had only shown you to your first class and then left you to fend for yourself. This school was far bigger than your old one so on your way to second period you got a little lost.

"It's that obvious huh?" you responded back to the stranger then looked over at him and smiled. He returned it, warm and friendly.

"Lemme see" he said as he reached for your schedule and you allowed him to have it happy to have someone who seemed like they wanted to help. 100s of other students had brushed past you so far and he had been the only one to stop.

"Oh, we got the same second period. Follow me. I got you." He told you as he handed you back your schedule and you thanked him as you folded it and slid it in your back pocket.

"What's your name?" He asked as you fell into step beside him.

"Y/N" you responded as he zigzagged you through the hallways. Quickly you picked up on the fact that Jonathan was pretty popular. On every hallway that you followed him down some dude was dapping him up or some girl was saying hey. And for some reason, he kept taking it upon himself to introduce you to every single person you two encountered. He kept telling people "This the new girl Y/N."

Like it was his duty or something.

You were a little embarrassed that he kept making you the center of attention but if you were going to meet anyone other than him it had to be that way. And you guessed he figured that. You think he just wanted you to feel included. And you did. During your lunch period, you spotted someone who looked like Jonathan so you went over to thank him for helping you again, only to discover you were talking to his twin brother Joshua. That's how you ended up meeting both of them on your very first day.

Jonathan talked to you every day after that. Over time you managed to find your place in a good group of friends when you joined the cheerleading team. This caused you and Jonathan to grow even closer because you spent more time around him due to him and his brother being football players. By Junior year you two were dating and experiencing a lot of firsts together. You were high school sweethearts for two years but mutually broke up after graduation when you saw that life was taking you in two completely different directions. It wasn't a sad or bitter breakup because you both understood and respected each other's futures. You just wanted to see each other win. And you knew that no matter what you would always keep in touch.

Jonathan went to college for a little bit before moving away with Joshua to pursue wrestling which was a part of their family legacy. You stayed in Florida went to college and worked tirelessly to follow your dream of becoming a nurse. You and Jonathan barely ever saw each other anymore.  Years passed. But still, you kept in contact here and there.

Jonathan and Joshua got signed to the WWE. You remember him being so excited on the phone when he called and told you about it. You became a nurse and started working at the hospital of your dreams. And crazy enough you even almost got married. You were engaged to a Doctor that you met at one of the hospitals you interviewed at before finding your perfect fit. He seemed like a amazing person on the surface but you later found out that it was all just a hoax. 1 week before your wedding you found out that he had fathered an outside child and had basically been unfaithful throughout your whole relationship. That was a horrible time for you but you managed to get through it. And although Jonathan couldn't be there for you physically you could always count on him to send you some encouraging words every other day.

When it seemed that you and Jonathan had finally solidified yourselves in your careers that's when you two reconnected on a deeper level. It started with texting each other as much as your work schedules and sleeping arrangements would allow. Then to falling asleep on Facetime with each other every night. Then to catching flights to see each other. He came to see you. You went to see him. And then on one of your trips, he just didn't want you to leave. So you decided to say goodbye to Florida and moved to the state that Jonathan was calling home. You found a hospital to work at and easily settled into life with him. For 3 years you and him had a relationship that you had convinced yourself you could only read about. You thought Jonathan was your forever and you found solace in thinking you would never know heartbreak again. 

But then it happened. 

It started like any other day. It was your off day so you were going to run a few errands and spend the rest of the day relaxing. Jonathan was on the road as usual living the hectic life of a wrestler so you were going to spend some time missing him too. But that was basically it. There were no warning signs. No strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. Nothing. You went through the day totally oblivious to the fact that your whole world was about to collapse.

Later on that night out of the blue your notifications started going insane. Jonathan had posted you on his Instagram here and there over the years so people knew who you were through him. Due to that, his fans started interacting with you. So you assumed that's what it was. That they were just tagging you in random things like normal. But you saw that everybody kept sending you the same link to a TMZ article. You ignored it until your best friend sent it to you with a message that read "Have you seen this? Are you okay?"

Nothing could've prepared you for what you saw. The headline was still engraved in your memory.

"Jimmy Uso exposed for stepping out on his now girlfriend Y/N: Woman reveals picture and text proof."

Your phone moved from side to side in your shaky hands as you read the article. Your heart pounded and your stomach turned as you read the claims of a woman who said she had been with Jonathan intimately a month ago. There were text messages and you knew for certain that it was his number. He had the same number since high school. But if that wasn't the nail in the coffin she also had a picture of him in her bed. Tears began to blur your vision as you read away every ounce of trust and security you ever had in Jonathan and your relationship.

Barely being able to process what was happening you moved in a zombie-like state as you located your laptop. Your brain was on autopilot as you booked a flight back to Florida for 6 am the next morning. You knew that you had to be out of that house before Jonathan came back. You were sure he knew the news by now. He had to. And you didn't know if he would drop everything and try to rush back. You didn't want to see his face. You didn't want to hear him try to explain himself. There was nothing that he could tell you. Life as you both knew was just completely over now.

And he only had himself to thank for that.

You packed what you could fit into your two suitcases and decided you would leave everything else behind. You had 3 years of stuff here but none of that mattered. With your heart feeling like somebody just snatched it out of your chest with a butcher's knife ..... nothing mattered. Shutting your phone off to silence the noise of the constant calls and texts you were receiving, you then climbed into the bed that you and Jonathan shared and cried your eyes out until sleep somehow found you. You woke up the next morning in time enough to take a shower, cry in it, and then leave Jonathan a note. You tore a piece of paper from a notebook and wrote,

Dear Jonathan, I hope it was worth it. Bye.

You left it on the coffee table in the living room before running out to catch your Lyft to the airport. Later that evening when you arrived in Florida you took a taxi to your parent's house. You knew your mom had already heard the news by the way she greeted you when you rang the doorbell. She just allowed you to fall into her arms and she held you as tight as she could. You were mentally and physically drained as you climbed the stairs and went to your childhood bedroom. You went to the bathroom that was connected to it and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You looked exactly like what you were going through. Your eyes were swollen from all of the nonstop crying and somehow your brown skin looked pale. After taking off the hoodie you had on and stripping down to your panties you went back to your bedroom and got into the bed. When you were under the covers you decided to turn your phone back on for the first time in over 12 hours. You had what seemed like 100s of text messages, missed calls, and voicemail messages from Jonathan.

You opened one of the voicemail messages, your heart breaking all over again as you heard the desperation in his voice.

............. "Baby, where did you go? I swear that shit didn't mean nothing. I ... I fucked up. I really fucked up. And I regretted that shit instantly. I wanted to tell you about it. I just didn't want what's happening now to happen. I didn't want to lose you Y/N. Please say something to me." .......

Well there it was, he admitted to it. So any stupid hope of this somehow not being your reality was lost. You shut your phone back down ignoring him again as tears streamed down the side of your face. Somehow through all of the pain you felt in your chest sleep still found you. You woke up later that night with more voicemail messages from Jonathan.

............ "Look Y/N I'm going out of my fucking mind. Just let me know where you at. I need to know that you alright." .........

............. "Curse me out. Do something. I can't take this silent shit."...........

.............. "I don't know if you even listening to these but I love you Y/N. I know you might not believe or wanna hear that right now but I love you."

You ended up blocking his number. But things didn't end there. You still had a long road ahead of you. He blew you up on every single social media app which you eventually had to delete. What Jonathan did to you was very public and people were talking about it. And you needed to ignore the world and him if you were ever going to get back to you.

As time went on you started to function like a normal human being again. You didn't end up sitting on the shower floor every time you took one and you started to eat more than once a day again. But it seemed like every time you tried to make a step to move on Jonathan would contact you and set you back. When he couldn't reach you on social media anymore he started sending emails. You blocked him there too. Then he put two and two together and figured you were at your parent's house and started abusing their phone lines as well. When his number was blocked yet again he even resorted to catching a flight and randomly showing up to their house. Rightfully so your father refused to let him in and sent him on his way.

Jonathan had turned your whole world upside down but you still communicated with his family through all of it. His mom and Dad checked on you. But you mainly talked to Joshua the most because you two had a friendship outside of him. Joshua genuinely wanted to know about your well-being, so you responded to him often while still being radio silent when it came to his brother. When Jonathan caught wind that you were still talking to Joshua he tried reaching out to you through him. You told Joshua not to allow him to do that or you would also have to cut ties with him. You didn't want to do that because Joshua hadn't done anything to you but you seriously wanted absolutely nothing to do with Jonathan. You didn't need his explanation. His apologies only infuriated you. You didn't need anything from him.

He tried to get you to communicate with him for almost a year but you never took any of the bait. Time passed and Jonathan's crazy measures to reach you eventually slowed down. 

Year two rolled around and for the first time, you heard no signs from him for a whole two weeks. But still, he was known to pop out when you got the most comfortable so you wearily anticipated him. But then two weeks turned into a month. One month turned into four. Before you knew it a whole year had passed with nothing from his end. In that time you managed to get your life back on track. You moved out of your parent's house into a nice apartment and were able to get the old job that you had before leaving Florida to be with Jonathan back.

It had been two years since you removed yourself from his life so you thought that the Jonathan Solofa Fatu chapter in your life was closed. You thought you would never hear another peep from him but yet here you were holding this letter.

And any peace you thought you had found with the situation was now completely disturbed.

[lestappenforever]

With the Lestappen-overtaking-Maxiel situation going on: Could you maybe make a little recommendation list of your favourite Lestappen fics (can be yours and/or other people's)?

Hi anon!

I absolutely can, what a fitting celebration!

As I'm still working on a proper fic rec list as I keep reading more and more fics, below you will find a small selection of my all-time favorite fics - both to read and to write!

Full list of my all-time favorite fics that I have read and written below the cut!

My all-time favorite fics that I have read:

Monaco Malaise (part 1 of Temptation's Trajectory) by @cupidskissx Rated E | 8,037 words | Complete

Using the reflection in the mirror above the vanity, he steals occasional glances into the bedroom as he wets the cloth and cleans himself off. Charles is still on his forearms and knees, face buried in his pillow, he doesn’t look like he’s going to be moving any time soon.

Max and Charles have been hooking up for a few months, casually, no string attached — definitely no feelings involved… The disaster that was Monaco 2021 sees them in Charles’ apartment, with Max having to deal with the fact that Charles can’t get out of his head.

Azerbaijan Abnegation (part 2 of Temptation's Trajectory) by @cupidskissx Rated E | 16,972 words | Complete

Charles stares at him intently, “Last time was an anomaly.” Not for the first time, Max recalls the awkward swell of humiliation after Charles had told him to stop. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the memory of everything that followed, “Yeah, that better not happen again.”

After Monaco, Max thought he’d made up his mind about Charles, and their little arrangement. They’re in Azerbaijan and Charles is everywhere: in his head, in his messages, in his hotel room… Will Max be able to hold onto his resolve, or will his attempts at self-denial only prolong the inevitable?

Mona's comment: I have read these two fics more times than I can count, and I'm going to keep reading them again and again and again until the day I die. Loz is such an amazingly talented author, and her writing has honestly altered my brain chemistry numerous times.

you and me, just us (and your teammate sergio) by @oscar-fastri Rated T | 3,377 words | Complete

Checo was fully aware of what he’s walking into. Still, he seriously doubts that anyone could have been prepared for the full force of Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc being heads over heels in love with each other and not even trying to hide it.

Or: 5 times Checo thirdwheels Max and Charles + 1 time it's everyone else's turn

Mona's comment: This is the "You, me and your friend Steve" song in perfect fic format, and let me tell you the sound I made when Avery published it was not human.

The Nights Are Long (But It's Easier Together) by @f1writingbyme Rated E | 43,759 | Complete

“Oh, God, what is it?” Max groans. “It’s Mr. Corvetto, right? I knew it. I’m telling you, never move into an apartment next to elderly people. It’s just– Why does she call me? What the hell can I do? Doesn’t she need to call an ambulance or something? Or, I don’t know, her family, or–” “Max.” Charles interrupts Max’s ranting. He ends the phone call, cutting off Mrs. Corvetto’s panicked yelling with a simple press of his thumb. He stares at the blue-eyed man in front of him. “Your apartment is on fire.”

Or: The fire in his apartment is only the beginning of a long list of misfortunes that await Max. Fortunately, he has Charles by his side to help him through it. That is until Charles is the one that gets targeted.

Mona's comment: I don't even have words for this, it just needs to be read. WARNING: Prepare for heavy angst.

And That's How I Foksmashed Dad's Championship Trophy by @il-predestinato Rated T | 6,500 | Complete

All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy. (Jimmy had insisted that it was not nice to shame another living creature about their weight, but she was not wrong. With her compact size and considerably more reasonable mass, Sassy was confident that she was much more comfortable for Max to have on his lap than that horrendously oversized creature.)

Mona's comment: I have never read anything as great as this, and I don't think I'll ever read anything as great as this ever again. I want to move into Elle's brain and live there forever.

set my midnight sorrow free (part 1 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated T | 13,439 words | Complete

He doesn’t blame Max, not really. If he could have Charles for one night, he would never let him go either. Maybe he isn’t the one who is losing; Max is also playing a losing game. You can’t open yourself to Charles and try to exist in his charmed life without becoming irrevocably enamoured. When Max let Charles walk into his motorhome, when he let Charles slip into his existence, Max didn’t know it then but the battle was already lost.

we don't know how to rhyme, but damn, we try (part 2 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated M | 4,862 | Complete

He pulls back reluctantly and misses the warm mouth almost immediately. Stars, he was doomed. “I want this too,” he tells Charles. “I don’t believe you.” He can be so infuriating sometimes, so contrarian. Some day, he might actually make Max lose his mind.

even the sun sets in paradise (part 3 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated T | 27,774 words | Complete

If he had to name the place where the story of Max and Charles began, if there was a moment that divided them into Before and After, there would be a few candidates. But there was only one correct answer. He would never forget the name. The place is called Val d’Argenton. Stories are still being written there. Charles likes to tell the story of the incident - turn by turn, infused with poetic drama, detailing every single emotion: frustration, anger, pure spite. Every time he tells it, his smile grows along with the laughter in his eyes, even as his words recount a tale of opposing emotions. “I never want to go back to Val d’Argenton,” Charles once confessed. “We’ll never go back there,” he promised, and Charles knew what he meant.

Mona's comment: This series is such a rollercoaster of emotion, and I don't think I'm still fully recovered from reading it the first time. Elle is a true genius in every way.

p19 by @sennaverstappen Rated E | 5,619 words | Complete

“Charles,” it comes out soft, worried, upset. Charles will light himself on fire. He hears Max take a few steps towards him, feels two warm, winning, arms wrap around his fast-breathing chest. He’s still wearing those golden shoes. Max snuggle into his neck. “I’m here for you.” And Max had won, and he’s winning the season, and he’s P19, and losing this season. And Max is winning, and he’s not even talking about it – choosing to comfort his Charles instead. Every little thought converges into a single, red-hot one. He’s going to fuck the pole sitter so hard he’ll be sore tomorrow. “Max,” he whimpers, trying to find his voice, find his grip, find his footing in this world. Max tightens his grip around his waist. “Yes, angel?” And he can feel Max frown against his nape, soft breath against his earlobe. It turns his body white-hot. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Mona's comment: This one is just *chef's kiss*. Mindblowing. Incredible. Just like its author.

My all-time favorite fics that I've written:

Devil's Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) (part 1 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 55,362 words | Complete

It all started with a crash. Well, technically, it started with a blue-eyed boy with blonde hair getting screamed at in a language he couldn’t understand when he was only 12 years old. He remembered looking at the boy, who couldn’t be much older than himself - (two weeks older, to be exact, he’d learn later) - and watching the spark disappear right out of those icy blue eyes. That was the first memory Charles Leclerc had of Max Verstappen: Watching Jos Verstappen, Max’s own father, scream at this 12 year old child with an intensity that turned his face red and made every blood vessel in his neck look dangerously close to bursting. But if anyone ever were to ask Charles when he started to realize that his feelings towards that same Max Verstappen he had known since childhood had begun to change into something else, something bigger, something terrifying he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - quite put his finger on, he would say that it all started with a crash. Because of fucking course it did.

OR: The slow-burn story of Lestappen that has brought me back from the dead, which starts with Max's crash at Silverstone in 2021.

Like Snow At The Beach (Weird But Fucking Beautiful) (part 2 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 17,064 words | Completed

The wedding of Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen was always going to be a grand affair. Not necessarily because it had been either man’s dream to make a big deal out of getting married, but simply because they knew so many fucking people. And because Charles had mentioned once — in passing, ages ago, long before Max went down on one knee and proposed — that he had driven past a property in Italy he’d found so beautiful that he’d had to stop the car in order to have a proper look, and that upon walking through the grounds of the property, he’d found himself thinking it would have been the perfect venue for a wedding. Max had been hellbent on finding out which property that was ever since.

OR: The lavish wedding sequel to "Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes)" that you've all been (hopefully) waiting for.

Stop (You're Losing Me) (part 3 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 6,399 words | Completed

And now, here they are, with Charles feeling like he’s the only one making any sort of effort to keep their marriage healthy and happy outside of race weekends. He never would have imagined being married to Max could end up feeling so lonely. Another two hours pass before Max comes out into the living room, where Charles is sitting on the couch with a bowl of Andrea-and-Brad approved pad thai from their favorite takeout place just down the street, rewatching Money Heist for what has to be the tenth time. Max stops at the end of the couch, frowning down at the Monégasque. “I thought we were going out for dinner?” Charles looks up at him, face expressionless. “We were.” Max points at the bowl. “But you ordered takeout?” “I did.” “Why?” “Because our reservation was two hours ago, babe, and I was hungry.”

OR: Max and Charles have been married for 3 years, and it turns out marriage isn't always beautiful. Sometimes, it's ugly and tiring and painful.

Mona's comment: This series is what got me back into writing after a 7-year long hiatus from fic writing, and I treasure this series so much because it's what got me to make a Tumblr blog again and fully embrace the F1 fandom after being into F1 for 20 years.

19 Times The Grid Saved Lestappen (And One Time They Didn't Need To) (part 1 of Lestappen + The Grid) co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated M | 16,107 words | Complete

In that exact moment, all Charles wants to do is grab a hold of the front of Max’s stupid Red Bull polo and pull him into a kiss. He’s just about to do it, too, when a pen comes flying out of fucking nowhere, hitting Max smack dab in the face. It brings them both out of their little bubble, and Charles turns to see Lando standing a good distance away from them, already in the process of yeeting another pen in their direction. Charles reaches out to catch it before it can hit Max again, putting his reflexes to good use. Next to Lando, Carlos nods his approval at the catch. “Lando, what the hell?”

OR: Keeping Charles and Max from accidentally outing themselves to the whole world is becoming a full-time job. and Lando decides to enlist the entire grid to help him out.

18 Times Lestappen Tried To Hide Their Relationship (And One Time They Failed) (part 2 of Lestappen + The Grid) co-written with @f1writingbyme

Charles is pretty sure he is going to die of a heart attack at the age of only twenty-six because of all the sneaking around and almost getting caught every time. The only positive thing they have going for them is that they haven't been caught yet. How that's possible, Charles isn't sure, but he thinks it might have something to do with the fact that their friends either aren't paying much attention or are just plain stupid. Charles secretly hopes it's the last one. But of course, luck is not on Charles’ side, as one Mr. Lando Norris, tucked away in the safety of his driver's room on the other side of the paddock, is typing away on his phone.

How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated T | 10,344 words | Complete (for now)

Lance doesn’t know which of his emotions is more overpowering; the secondhand embarrassment he feels at how blatantly obvious they’re being, or the fact that watching Max and Charles in their own little world is actually kind of cute. He realizes it’s the secondhand embarrassment as he watches Max shamelessly grin at James and proudly explain that he was just talking to Charles. Lance has to resist the urge to roll his eyes, especially when he notices how Charles is quite literally the embodiment of the heart eyes emoji where he’s standing next to Max for his entire interview. And the beeline Charles makes for Max as soon as he hands the microphone to Lance after his P2 interview is even worse than the heart eyes. He definitely should have been paying attention to that group chat, Jesus fucking Christ.

OR: There is a WhatsApp support group chat on how to deal with being top 3 with Max and Charles. Lance hasn't been paying attention to it at all, and lives to regret it. And then others suffer at the hands of Lestappen as well.

Mona's comment: Writing fics with Ilse is one of my favorite things in the world to do, and I can't even begin to describe how much fun it is to write all our Lestappen + the grid fics.

The Wonders of Valentine's Day (Or Whatever) Rated E | 9,933 words | Complete

Max, having completely lost the ability to speak, just stares at the sight before him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. What the actual fuck? “Hi?” Max phrases it like a question. Charles grins at him. “Hello,” he greets, and Max watches as the grin fades away as Charles’ gaze moves down Max’s body, one eyebrow lifting. It’s only then Max realizes that he never put on pants after his shower, and is standing there in his bright orange Netherlands jersey and black boxers. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to let the internal panic he’s currently experiencing show on his face.

OR: Max isn't a fan of Valentine's Day. Charles is a menace on a mission to change that. Naturally.

Mona's comment: This was just a self-indulgant fic I wrote due to my own dislike towards Valentine's Day, but let me tell you, I had a blast from start to finish while writing this.

The Seasons of Heartbreak co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated T | 14,075 words | Complete

As the ‘I can’t do this anymore’ slipped from his lips, Charles missed his exit and continued straight ahead, unable to fully see the exit sign through his tears. The tears fill his eyes as quickly now as they had done in his car that day, and Charles finds himself realizing that he hasn’t felt happiness since. Not even once.

OR: When two men are hurting from a break-up, they can only use each other to make it right again. But they have to realize that first.

OR: The seasons of heartbreak, seen through the eyes of both Max and Charles.

Mona's comment: The sheer amount of tears shed while writing this, my God.