#but really not much of this was new. at least in terms of charles i haven't fully watched all the eps yet
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Charles Leclerc in Formula 1: Drive to Survive, Season 7 (2025)
#formula 1#f1#f1edit#charles leclerc#charlesleclercedit#dts s7#dtsedit#drive to survive#*#*mine: gif#s1 and 2 still clears i fear. at least in terms of charles#idk here i didn't feel i saw or learned anything new or groundbreaking?? unlike the sebchal homoerotic ferrari team briefing yknow#maybe it's bc the drivers are so chronically online and have generally built up a bigger personal brand/following#but really not much of this was new. at least in terms of charles i haven't fully watched all the eps yet#a lot of the monaco episode stuff we already saw in the canal+ documentary and then he took a lot of that and put it in his weekend vlog#so it's like. nice but im seeing the same stuff with slight variations like three times at this point?#the singapore ep was an interesting format change and obvs those friendship dynamics are genuine so it's easy & pleasant to watch#but again at least in charles's case like. nothing revolutionary???#idk i sometimes enjoy the netflix docu cinematography aspect; like there's some nice shots and juicy colours#but as a phenomenon dts is past its peak for sure. it worked in the early seasons bc of the novelty of having that much access to go bts#but now most teams show a lot of that stuff off on their socials or vlogs anyway so like. there's a lot of overlap
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Fling - Charles Leclerc
Words: 1,072 Summary: Charles overhears his girlfriend telling someone that they are just a fling and will be ending soon which is more than confusing for him. Note(s): Reader is plus size in this. It is not said outright but very much implied. Charles and Reader both suck at communicating btw. Also this is based on a somewhat recent convo I had with someone where they told me I’d be pretty if it weren’t for me being fat so… Good thing I have thick skin
Masterlist | Support Me!
“It’s not going to last.”
Her eyes flicker off her phone screen for a second, eyebrow raising just a hint before they go back, typing a message. “Okay.”
“That’s all you have to say? Okay.”
“Well, you were a bit vague.” She draws out the last word, sighing. “So, yeah,” she nods, pausing. “Okay.”
The other huffs, shaking her head. “Charles and you, it’s never going to last. It was a good fling, a summer romance, but by next year you’ll be gone.”
Her lips thin and she pockets her phone, finally making eye contact with Silvia. “I’m more than aware that I don’t look like Charles’ past partners and that you have more than your fair share of issues with that and me. But Silvia, you don’t have to state the obvious. I’ve been aware.”
The older woman’s eyes are wide.
“It’s called enjoying something while it lasts and I intend to do so, enjoy this thing with Charles until it inevitably comes to end. Probably in the next month. We all know how you like him to be single going into the new year.”
Respect settles across Silvia’s face. “You are different than I thought.”
“Should’ve had a conversation with me.” She counters and Silvia concedes with a nod of her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll put out an insta story saying we parted on good terms and that things just don’t always work out. I’d say better as friends, but I think you’d kill me if I ever showed up in the garage again after this.”
“Just a bit.” Silvia then frowns. “You really knew this was never going to last? Between you and Charles?”
“Silvia,” And her tone softens for the first time. “It’s like I said. I’m aware of what I look like, especially compared to Charles and his exes. But it’s Charles, I would have been more stupid to say no to him and then to have him for at least a few months.”
Silvia holds her gaze for a few seconds before nodding and reaching forward, patting her hand. “It is a shame how you look. You would have made the perfect partner.”
And she doesn’t even flinch at the insult to her weight.
—
“Is everything okay?”
Her eyes are full of concern as she watches Charles move around the hotel room. His body tense, lips pressed together, jaw twitching.
His nostrils flare and she swears she can hear his teeth grinding.
“I overheard something, you and Silvia.” He fully turns to look at her and she’s unable to even get a second to mourn the loss of his side profile as she sees hurt in his eyes that’s surrounded by frustration.
“We aren’t going to last? I’m leaving you in the next month?”
“Charles,”
“No.” He shakes his head, cutting her off. “This is all news to me.”
“Is it?”
His head jerks back, “what?”
“We never talked about being serious, Charles. And you have a type, I’m so far away from that type it’s not even funny.”
“We never talked about being serious because every time I try to talk about our future you shut me down, you change the subject. And my type is you!” His voice is louder. “I know what my exes look like, I know my pattern, the jokes of how and why I date, but you are the most gorgeous woman in the world, as soon as I saw you, my type changed, I have no type, it is just you. It’s been seven months and I haven’t even looked at another woman.”
Her mind is struggling to process, her heart nearly beating out of her chest, her mouth slack with shock.
“You never tried talking about our future.” It’s all she can say because she can’t think of a single time he brought it up, he tried bringing it up.
“I tried asking you to come to lunch with my brothers and mom.”
Her eyes widened. “That was in July.”
“I asked about holiday plans, I asked about meeting your family. If you wanted kids, when you wanted them. And all I know is that you are going to family for two days for the holidays and that you want kids. That is all I got out of you. I tried giving you a key to my apartment.”
“I’m only ever in Monaco when I’m with you. Why would I ever need a key?”
He flushes, rubbing at the back of his neck. “This might be my bad, it was my way of asking you to move in, or just keep things at my place at least.”
“Charles.”
“I love you.”
Her heart skips a beat and all the hurt and frustration that had been on Charles’ face is gone, replaced by something she’s never seen directed at her.
“I’m crazy in love with you. And obviously we both need to work on things, talking, but I want to do that. I want you. I want you to move in with me, to continue going to all my races, to chide Leo before cuddling him. I want to marry you. In a day, a week, a month, a year, I don’t care when. And I want children with you. I want them to have your smile, your laugh, your stubbornness even though it infuriates me.”
Tears are spilling down her cheeks, lip trembling, and she nearly can’t speak.
“Charles, I want you too. I want all of that. I love you.”
He’s striding forward, his hands gentle on her face as he steals the breath from her lips.
They’ve shared many kisses in the seven months since they’ve known each other, but none like this.
“We are never breaking up.” Charles states when he pulls away after brushing their lips together once more.
“Never.” She agrees, a rush of excitement flooding her as she realizes that she gets to have this, have him, and never give him up.
He smiles at the answer, at the happiness that has flooded her face, the tension he didn’t even know was there that has left her body. “Now, when would you like to get married? I think I have a favor or two I could call to get us married tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Charles,” She shakes her head.
“What?”
“Take me to bed.”
His eyes widen for a brief second and then a smirk plays on his lips. “Happily, amour.”
#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#sins fics
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me or him? - cl x hs

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader, ex!harry styles x fem!reader Summary: a request from anon, in which your ex (harry styles) shows up to the paddock and brings jealousy to Charles Warnings: some smut, language, bad writing?? Word Count: 1098 Author's Note: You ask and I shall deliver!! Sorry I didn't make Harry as toxic in it, it was hard for me to make him too much of an asshole because he's such a cutie patootie LOL. I really did want to make him more of an asshole. Maybe I'll make another. I hope it's up to your standards for now! I tried my best ❤️ French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!
✦ . �� . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
YOU COULDN'T HELP but feel like the universe was playing a twisted joke on you. In what world would Harry Styles be attending a Grand Prix, let alone the Monaco Grand Prix, and to make things even more surreal, he’s in the Ferrari garage. Where you presently stood beside Charles.
To the casual observer, it might not have seemed like anything out of the ordinary. Just another celebrity making a visit to the paddock. But there was a significant detail that set this celebrity apart from the rest: he happened to be your ex-boyfriend.
It was a detail of your past you didn’t get to mention. To be fair, you and Charles were still a relatively new couple, and you hadn’t found the right moment to discuss past relationships with one another just yet.
“You look so beautiful, ma chérie.” My darling. You both were hidden in the corner as he pecked a gentle kiss onto your lips. Your hands slowly wrap around the back of his neck, a knot formed in your stomach. You needed to give him some warning.
“Cha, I need to tell you this fast. My ex-boyfriend is here.” You whispered it so fast and so low you don’t even know if he heard you correctly.
You and Harry hadn’t parted on bad terms; in fact, your breakup had been quite mutual. However, it was also fair to admit that it was messy in terms of ending up in each other’s bed every so often. But that was before. Before Charles.
“Y/N?” A voice interrupts, and you both quickly separate from each other. You felt like a deer in headlights.
“Harry! How are you doing?” You gave Harry a small, polite hug, still avoiding eye contact with Charles. The thought of his reaction made you nervous, and you couldn’t get yourself to meet his gaze.
Charles had never exhibited a penchant for possessiveness, or at least, you had not perceived him as such. Nevertheless, in this instant, the proximity of your ex-boyfriend, who gazed at you as if you were the sole focus of this entire room, ignited an uncontrollable urge to clench his fists and drag you someplace else. Somewhere far away from here.
“Doing well,” Harry began, his gaze unwavering on your face. “I thought I’d run into you at the annual Christmas soiree,” he mused with a chuckle, following it with, “I’ve missed you.”
You almost choked on your response.
Charles could sense his frustration intensifying at the undivided attention of Harry seemed to be giving you. Although you continued to avert your gaze from Charles, the vice-like grip of his hand on your hip conveyed an unmistakable message of his discontent.
Harry’s gaze traveled, from your face down your body, following the path of Charles’s hand that had claimed its place. A slight frown forming on his lips.
“Harry, meet Charles, my boyfriend.” You said with a soft smile. Harry extended a hand towards Charles, who, though still visibly tense, accepted the handshake.
Silence filled the space between them, unspoken words hanging in the air. You found yourself ensnared amid an unvoiced rivalry. Harry who struggled to divert his attention from your face for more than a fleeting moment. Charles who wanted to stake claim.
Charles felt increasingly invisible as you and Harry further engaged in conversation. He couldn’t even decipher what you were discussing at this point. His focus had shifted entirely to observing the way Harry was looking at you. Like he wanted you. Like he had no shame.
It made Charles livid.
“Ma chérie, we need to go grab my helmet. I left it in my driver’s room.” Charles cut off the conversation by pulling you away. Not even sparing another glance to Harry.
You didn’t get to see the expression on Charles’ face as he hurriedly led you into his driver’s room. You didn’t even have a chance to take a single step, as the moment the door was shut, you found yourself pushed up against it and your dress was bunched at your waist.
"You're helmet was literally in the garage Cha," you squealed out.
“Are you trying to drive me insane?” His breath was hot against your ear. You felt goosebumps arise almost instantly at the sound of him shoving his race suit down his legs to free himself.
“Thinks he can have you back.” He scoffed. “Thinks he can stare at what’s mine.”
He spit directly onto his hand, mimicking the gesture of spitting on the sidewalk. An act of frustration. Almost instantly, he brought his fingers between your fold. “Ma chérie, you’re already so wet.” He hissed as he rubbed his cock through your slick folds.
“Always,” you breathed out heavily as he pushed himself all the way in. “Always for you.”
His hands were fervent, rubbing and pinching all the right areas to send you quickly towards the edge.
“Yeah?” He emitted a deep, guttural moan, quickening his rhythm as his hand descended to the spot that you yearned for most. You began nodding your head fervently in response.
Yes. Yes, you’re the only one. You’re the only one I ever want.
“You all wet for him? Hm?” He sneered. “Talking to him got you all hot and bothered?” He was playing with fire.
“No, never,” you were shouting. Needing more. More of him.
“You’re my little slut, ma chérie?” He groaned in your ear. His hips rapidly picking up the pace. You found yourself utterly incapable of forming a coherent response; the strokes of his cock so deep you were in bliss. Instead, all that escaped your lips were unintelligible groans, a testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. “Look at you, so cock dumb. Can’t even speak properly.”
It didn’t take much time at all. Your intense desire for him, your deep connection, it all culminated in a swift and intense climax. Him, lost in the same ecstasy as he quickly finishes all over your backside. Dragging his heavy cock over your ass to smear his cum into you.
After a few moments of heavy panting and the gradual return of normal breathing, you finally turned to meet Charles’ gaze. His countenance bore a mix of elation and something more complex, not quite sadness, but perhaps a touch of insecurity.
“Cha, you’re the only one I want.” You confirmed the phrase with a firm kiss to his lips. You felt him smile into it. His hands squeezing any area of your body he grabs onto. As if you would wither into thin air if he didn’t.
“You’re stuck with me, ma chérie.” He pulled away. “I’m never letting you go.”
#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#f1 imagines#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc smut#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles
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Nostophilia
Noun: An extreme fondness for returning home. For returning to where the heart belongs.
Ch.10
Ch.9, Ch.8, Ch.7, Ch.6, Ch.5.5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <-
Pairing: Mutant!Reader x Logan Howlett
Warnings: none
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: did y'all really think i was gonna leave it like that? im mean, but im not that mean <3
Taglist:@badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor @y08h
“Hey firefly,” Logan murmured as he set his jacket down on the back of the only chair in the room. The only piece of furniture in the room. It was unspeakably cruel, he thought, how much of your life you’d spent in clinical rooms such as this one, only to spend the rest of eternity in the exact same setting. The sphere of shadow pulsed dully with light like usual, an endless back and forth between your mutation and your brothers. Light encased in dark.
It had been two years since you’d done this. Since you’d saved the lives of everyone you held dear by doing the one thing you’d always been warned against. You’d known the consequences. Of course you had. Charles hadn’t been subtle in reminding you that using your own shadow would result in this. But you’d done it to spare everyone.
Crossing the empty, white room, Logan set his hand against the solid, thrumming surface, feeling the small pulses of energy within the prison of your own making. He hoped, somehow, you could still hear him. Still sense his presence, even though he knew it was unlikely. Jean had said he was just hurting himself by continuing to see you. But he dared to hope. For the first time in his godforsaken life, he allowed himself hope.
“Hi sweetheart,” he murmured again, resting his brow beside his hand. He swore he could still feel you in there. Still smell that one shower gel you used to use. Smell the cherry-flavoured chapstick across your lips. “Sorry s’been a while. Charles has us run ragged with the government. Yeah, they’re still up in arms about the whole thing. Stuck-up pricks.” He growled, smoothing his thumb over the glassy surface of the sphere. “Tryna play it off like they had no goddamn clue any of this was happenin’.” He knew it was his mind playing tricks on him, his own hopes manifesting in his brain, but he indulged in the way he thought he felt you react, a ripple of irritation within the endless well of darkness. “Yeah, I know. We’re workin’ on it, kay? Promise.”
He didn’t mind Charles working everyone overtime to figure everything out. He owed the Professor big time for working this deal. In exchange for everything the team knew collectively, he was allowed to come in and see you, or what was left of you, every now and then. No cameras, no observations, just you and him. Of course, it hadn’t been like that the first few times. Whatever you had done was completely new in terms of containment, and he used to grit his teeth at the way they poked and prodded what you’d become, searching for any kind of reaction. It was too reminiscent of what you’d already gone through, and he fucking wished you could have been held beneath the school. At least then he didn’t have to wait for fucking government permission to see you.
It was torture, waiting for every request to be approved or denied, pacing in his room after Charles sent the first email, heading out on Scott’s bike just to blow off some goddamn steam and hoping the faint adrenaline rush would be enough to knock him out by the time he returned.
It never was.
With an exhausted sigh, Logan dragged the chair closer to you, the steel complaining beneath his weight as he took a seat. “Wish I had more to catch ya up on but uh, not much’s happened since the last time I was here. Kitty’s beggin’ me to bring her along, by the way. So’s Morgana.” Once again he let his hopes manifest, eyes tricking him into seeing the light within flicker slightly in what he interpreted as excitement. “Yeah? Well alright then, I’ll let 'em know.” He smiled slightly, before his expression faltered, a wave of heartbreaking longing spearing his heart.
“They miss you, ya know. Kitty and Morgana. Fuck, we all miss you, but they both took it hard. Morgo’s kinda filled in your role, and Jade’s role before you, bein’ like a big sister to her. Oh, and you’ll be pleased to hear Marie and Bobby are finally datin’.” His mind saw the shadows ripple once again, the steady pulsing of light becoming irregular for a moment. “You’re tellin’ me. She kept cryin’ on my shoulder because he wouldn’t notice her or some shit like that. Guess he finally did.” He shrugged, resting his hand back on the surface of your prison, feeling the warmth of your phantom laughter. It sparked his own series of slight chuckles, his thumb smoothing over the surface of the darkness.
“Erin dropped by the other day with Atlas. They’re uh, engaged now, if you can believe that.” He still couldn’t stand to be around her. After everything she did, the role she played in your death, whenever she would stop by, which was extremely few and far between, he’d always find somewhere else to be. In the weeks following your death, she’d stayed beneath the school in recovery. There was only so much Atlas could do against a slash to the throat, but Morgarna refused to speak to her for a full month afterwards. Even now the redhead was curt with her, only exchanging the briefest of pleasantries whenever they ‘were in the area’. Logan could see right through her ruse though. She was trying to drown her guilt in the empty forgiveness from her friend. Atlas may have been able to understand why she did what she did, but it had almost resulted in your death.
That was something he could never forgive.
“I won’t be goin’. To the wedding. Sorry if you wanted to hear how it goes but I think Morgo might make an appearance then dip pretty quick so I’ll get the details from her if ya want.” Something deep within the prison rippled slightly, and he couldn’t make up his mind whether or not it was anger or excitement. Though he guessed, with the last interaction between the two of you, it was most likely the former. Not that it was real. He had to remind himself of that. None of it was real.
A heavy sense of loss weighed in his heart. Thinking about Erin and Atlas’ wedding made him feel physically sick, but not because of his deep hatred for the girl. But because he couldn’t stop thinking that it should have been you and him. One day, far off into the future, it should have been the two of you getting married. Starting a life together. Maybe one day, even a family. You’d never expressed explicit interest in having kids, but it was something he’d entertained before in the afterglows of your nights together. Something he was always too fucking afraid to bring up.
Now he’d never get the chance.
“Sorry sweetheart,” he gave the surface of the sphere a soft pat as if you could sense his sudden shift in demeanour. “Just… gettin’ to that time again I guess,” he explained quietly. He never really knew what to do on the days of your anniversary. Should he celebrate? Should he mourn? Should he try and spend it with you in this fucking alabaster room or should he drown his sorrows in liquor and try to forget? The last two years he’d spent it doing the latter, whether he’d intended to or not. It burned to think of the life he could have lived with you, the things you could have done together. But it burned more to ignore it completely.
Pain was a funny thing. No matter what he did, there really was nothing he could do to escape its claws. A rogue tear lined one of his eyes, and despite promising you he wouldn’t cry during these visits, there were times that even he couldn’t stop himself. “Fuck I miss you, Firefly. So fucking much…” There was so much he still had to say. So much he still had to do. And there had been for the last two years. He was stuck in this purgatory state, not really living but being unable to die. Just… existing. Surviving. And he knew you’d kick his ass for it. He vowed to live a life you’d be proud of, but that proved a lot harder than he thought it was going to be when the woman he wanted as his life partner couldn’t be by his side.
The surface of the orb shimmered, the glow within stuttering slightly to his grieving mind’s eye. You were telling him off. That much he knew. “Yeah, ‘gotta get my shit together at some point’, right?” He chuckled to himself as he remembered the ways you would attempt to imitate his voice, the way your chin would tuck against your neck to reach the lower parts of your voice and yet still get nowhere near close to his registry. The way he would tell you to stop when, in reality, he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if you did it forever, as long as you were by his side.
But you weren’t. He couldn’t protect you. And he knew you’d beat his ass to the ground for the guilt he felt, but he couldn’t help it. He was supposed to protect you. Supposed to keep you safe. And you’d died doing the very same thing for him. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and if it didn’t feel like razor blades to the chest, he’d appreciate the way fate worked.
If only.
His phone bleeped from his jacket pocket and he grit his teeth together, closing his eyes against the spike of irritation that flared through his system. He knew who it was and what they wanted, but that didn’t mean he was going to answer straight away. That was until there were three more consecutive notifications, and with a rough sigh, he thrust his hand into the pocket and snatched out his phone.
“Alright darlin’. Duty calls, somethin’ about a string of real strange murders in the area Chuck wants us to investigate. Thinks it’s some mutant goin’ on a spree,” he paused, feeling the energy within your prison shift uncomfortably. “When’ve you ever known me to be reckless?” The ghost of your mutation spiked beneath his palm and he blew out a laugh. “Okay, yep, I’ll be safe.”
Logan had a moment of self-awareness and the sinking realisation that he must be going insane. Who else would talk to the embodiment of their dead ex’s mutation as if it could hold a conversation? As if it were replying to him. He was going mad.
With a heavy sigh, he stood from the chair, dragging it back to the corner of the room before swinging his jacket across his shoulders, settling the leather around his arms. After having such an intense moment of realisation, he forwent the usual kiss goodbye. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Promise,” he mumbled, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here. Anywhere else he could be drinking himself into an early grave. Or he supposed, earlier grave. Maybe then he could see you again.
Logan turned to leave, pausing as if to look back to you but decided against it. That was until he caught the reflection of the sphere in the glass of the door. Whilst yes, he was happy to admit he was crazy, he also knew when he was gaslighting himself, and when he was feeding his own delusions, which stopped the moment he stood from the chair.
Then if that was true…
Why the fuck was the glow within the prison convulsing like that?
He turned back to the sphere, his head tilting to the side as he took a slow step forward. This wasn’t his imagination. Or if it was, he was a lot more tired than he thought he was. But no, it wasn’t his grief playing tricks on him. The light was fading and growing rapidly, like panicked breaths. And it wasn’t his imagination that felt the sharp, almost burst of kinetic energy when he placed his hand against the surface. There was always a hum of power that accompanied the sphere, but not like this.
Logan’s eyes widened slightly, fear icing his blood. What the hell was going on? If this was where he’d watch you fade away after two years of being like this, he didn’t think he could handle it. A bullet to the head wasn’t enough to kill him, something he’d already tried, but living after seeing what he dreaded to see simply wasn’t an option.
A low, almost imperceptible hum accompanied the frantic pulsing, rising and falling with each anxious glow until even somebody without enhanced hearing would have been able to pick up on it. Taking a step back, Logan couldn’t help but feel yet another overwhelming sense of guilt. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. Did he touch the surface too much? Disturb whatever fragile balance you’d found with your brother? He swore lowly, looking around for anything or anyone that might know what the fuck was going on.
Crossing to the small control panel on the wall by the door, Logan jammed his thumb against the speaker, pressing the alarm multiple times before anybody came to the receiver.
“What?”
“R’you not seein’ this? The fuck is goin’ on?” He snarled, panic rising in his voice as the usually solid surface of the prison started to writhe and hiss like a ball of angry snakes.
“Hold please.”
“Don’t you fuckin’–” Logan couldn’t believe he’d just been told to hold whilst your mutation had started going fucking crazy. “Motherfucker!” He shouted loud enough to grab the attention of any officials who may be in the control room. Though he couldn’t tear his attention away from the now rapidly deteriorating shadows in the centre of the room. “No… no no nonoNO!” he roared desperately, his voice catching on the ghost of a sob. “I can’t… I can’t do this again, Firefly– please… please don’t make me do this again…” Logan fell to his knees, his head bowing hauntingly similar to the way it did the first time he lost you. “Don’t do this…”
“You didn’t kiss me goodbye.”
Logan felt as if he’d just been struck by lightning, every hair on his body standing on end as goosebumps prickled his skin. He thought he would have to die before he heard that voice again. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head.
And his mind went blissfully blank, his heart freezing in his chest. He had to be dead. There was no other way this could be happening otherwise. No other way he’d be looking at you standing across from him, as beautiful as the day he lost you.
“Hey, handsome.” Your smile was so fucking soft, he didn’t even attempt to cease the tears lining his eyes, flowing down the sides of his face. He staggered to his feet, unable to take his eyes off you. You were exactly the same other than one noticeable change.
One of your eyes had shifted golden, your iris now the exact same hue as the ones your brother had.
He whispered your name so delicately, as if any louder and you’d shatter in front of him, and he’d wake up from this dream. But you just smiled wider, nodding gently. He’d intended to approach you slowly, to work his way over to you, wade through the quagmire of confusion, elation, and heartbreak before he got to you. Until your knees buckled beneath you and you collapsed. He surged forward, his chest expanding as his hands graced your sides, pulling you into him as he cushioned your fall.
You were real. This was real.
You were corporeal, here, in his arms, with him.
His mouth fell open with silent sobs, crushing you into him with careful force, in case you would shatter. Your scent wrapped around his heart like a blanket of comfort, inspiring the same feeling he would get as if he’d just come home to you after a long day. But it was the other way around.
You’d come home to him.
“Sorry…” you murmured a little weakly against the scruff of his beard, your nose tucked into the side of his neck. “Been a while since I used legs…”
“Wh… how? I don’t– I thought– why?” He had so many fucking questions dancing in his head, a carousel of confusion twirling about his mind as he pulled you back so he could look at you. Truly look at you.
“I said. You didn’t kiss me goodbye. Pissed me off.” You explained as flatly as you could whilst being utterly exhausted. Logan blinked rapidly, your explanation meaning absolutely nothing in the face of reality.
“I don’t… understand. You came back after two years because I didn’t kiss you?”
You chuckled tiredly into his chest, barely strong enough to hold your own head up. So he did it for you, his hand cradling the back of your head, supporting you in any way he could.
“I’m kidding. Jus' took me a while to thread myself back together, honestly. Look, new arms!” You lifted your arms as high as you could, which really wasn’t much considering your severe lack of strength. But Logan gently took your wrists in his hand, his thumb smoothing over the clear skin. No scars. No marks. Just you. And whilst those scars were a testament to everything you’d been through, everything you’d survived, the new meaning wasn’t lost on him.
This was a fresh start.
“And Rowan…?” He asked slowly, his eyes raking from your smooth wrists back up to your face, taking note of each vanished blemish he’d come to know so well. Your lips pulled into a slightly sad smile.
“He’s still here… just, not around, if that makes sense?”
Brushing back a stray hair from your brow, Logan really took in your new appearance, unable to stop himself from smoothing your cheekbone beneath your one golden eye. “Yeah… it makes sense,” he kept his voice as steady as he could in the face of more emotion than he’d felt since losing you. He felt like he was trying to hold back a tsunami with a spatula, wanting nothing more than to crush you into his chest and cry until his voice was hoarse. “So… you could hear everything?”
“Every word.”
“And I wasn’t…” going crazy, he finished in his head, unable to voice his thoughts. But you knew. Your soft smile of understanding told him you knew.
“No, you weren’t. It was all I could do, send little wisps and waves to let you know I was still there. Still listening.” You fell into a contemplative silence for a moment, your eyes closing as you rested tiredly against his chest. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Not giving up on me…”
The dam holding his emotions back cracked, breaking apart completely when he watched tears filter along your lash line. Knowing you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up, he braced a broad palm against your back and the other against the side of your neck, pulling you up towards him and finally, finally sealing his lips to yours.
He kissed you with fragile passion, terrified that, with nothing more than a light breeze, you’d be taken from him again. But the way your hands managed to slide up his chest to the scruff at his jaw, the way you leaned into him as much as you could, the way your lips parted for him to find his way home to you. It told him all he needed to know.
No more experiments.
No more Kreva.
No more fear of who or what you were.
This was a new beginning. A fresh start. The start of the rest of your intertwined lives. The other half of his soul had come back to him, knitting together the shattered remains of two years spent grieving.
Everything he wanted to say to you. Everything that was still left unsaid. He had a second chance. You’d gifted him a second chance. And he wasn’t about to let it slip through his fingers. Not again.
Never again.
“Never gonna give up on you, Firefly” he whispered against your lips, carding his hand through the roots of your hair.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
#wolverine x reader#logan x reader#logan howlett x reader#james logan howlett#logan howlett#x men logan#logan howlett fanfiction#logan smut#logan howlett smut#wolverine x you#wolverine smut#x men wolverine#the wolverine#phobophobia
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the blue - part eight
series masterlist // previous // next


zendaya amelia grace holland be honest. how many songs ave you written about oscar?
amelia holland
sam holland the better question is how many songs have you written about fake scenarios in your head?
amelia holland oh that one's easy at least five. this month. i've got a really good one called i should hate you, i wrote that one with aaron.
tuwaine barrett DID CHARLES HELP PRODUCE THIS AGAIN??
amelia holland i think he almost shit himself when he found out aaron was also producing this one. tuwaine barrett CHAMELIA MY BELOVED! GET THIS MAN ON STAGE WITH TAYLOR FOR A SURPRISE SONG! amelia holland he's been on my ass about that to. did you team up with him or something? tuwaine barrett why? did he say someting?
harry holland speaking of charles, how's texas? is it fun?
amelia holland it's hot as fuck.
amelia holland you're in texas now? any plans on coming home?
amelia holland kinda promised oscar and lando that i'd stick around for the triple header. there's a week off in between vegas and brazil but lando's birthday is a few days before vegas and abu dhabi is the next weekend. so i'm not sure. might be home for a couple days at most.
harrison osterfield it's almost like oscar's career is monopolizing all of your time
sam holland for the record none of us have problem with it. this is the first time in a long time we've seen you happy. if traveling with oscar makes you happy, do it. harrison's being a dick, ignore him. but like also please come home for the holidays?
amelia holland is that his default setting? - danny ric
amelia holland sorry about that, the fake american took my phone.
amelia holland real american here, is that his default setting? - logan sargeant
amelia holland charles here! is that his default?
amelia holland this group is tragic. ours is much more fun - max
amelia holland I CAN FINALLY STOPPED BE CALLED NORIZZ BECAUSE CLEARLY THE SECOND STRING LOSER HAS LESS THAN ME! - LANDO
amelia holland i would never piss a songwriter off because you'll be branded as the second string loser for the rest of your life. - pierre
amelia holland i swear they’re normally house-trained - oscar
amelia holland he's lying - alex
tom holland YOU HAVE A GROUPCHAT WITH THEM??
amelia holland it's quite fun. murder is threatened at least 3 times a day and lestappen is in full force. it is no just for the camera, i genuinely think they're in love with each other
amelia holland yuki’s quite violent, in case anyone was wondering. he may be pocket sized but he holds a lot of rage
harry holland and who exactly is in this group chat and why haven’t we been invited?
amelia holland the twitch quartet, max, daniel, yukierre, estie bestie and his two husbands, twinkclaren, and me
harrison osterfield you call your boyfriend a twink?
amelia holland it’s a term of endearment - lando
amelia holland she calls lando a fucking weenie and she called someone a weird second string loser, so i’m okay with twink - oscar
amelia holland WE'RE KIDNAPPING AMELIA! WE'RE IN TEXAS BABY! - DANNY RIC
amelia holland SAVE US! - CHARLES & MAX

ameliaholland posted new stories
someone's super excited to be back in texas COTA! pre-quali look with oscaroo. he's not happy at the moment, says it's too hot to be in texas. i agree. :) logan said he knew a place and took us to cane's. clearly one of them is happy to be here.

ameliaholland the plans made it out of the group chat, so when in texas...
tagged: oscarpiastri, lilymhe, francesca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, danielricciardo, landonorris, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, alex_albon, logansargeant, yukitsunoda, pierregasly, georgerussell63, estebanocon, mickschumacher, lancestroll
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tuwaine I HAVE NEVER WANTED TO BE IN TEXAS SO BAD
↳ ameliaholland you're missing out so bad tuwaine
tomholland2013 AMELIA GRACE HOLLAND YOU BETTER NOT BE DRINKING!
↳ ameliaholland i'm not? there's a heineken in my hand? it's non alcoholic.
↳ landonorris she literally had shots with max. she's a liar.
↳ ameliaholland shut the fuck up norizz.
username oh god, i've never wanted to be apart of a friend group this bad
username thank goodness someone put boots on the correct way. if i saw another picture or video of the drivers with their jeans tucked into their boots i would riot.
↳ username i hope daniel scolded them for doing so.
samholland1999 PUT SOME PANTS ON AMELIA!
↳ ameliaholland I AM WEARING PANTS! IT'S CALLED SHORTS DINGBAT! IT'S HOT IN TEXAS
username now this is a group i never thought i would see hanging out. at least not all of them together.
username this is so iconic of them wtf?
georgerussell63 i have never met someone who can out drink max, please join us the next time we go out.
↳ harryholland64 did not know my little sister can out drink max verstappen but i'm somehow proud?
↳ username this just in, something max verstappen is not good at doing, out drinking amelia holland.
lilymhe we have to do this again!
↳ francesca.cgomes we do!
↳ alexandrasaintmleux oh, we should
↳ ameliaholland give me a time a place and i'll be there!
↳ carmenmundt count me in too! i would love to meet amelia.
↳ username icons meeting other icons, love to see it.

finish the lyrics with lando norris and oscar piastri
comments
user we were robbed of cowboy oscar!
user lando and the holland brothers being the captains of the oscar x amelia ship is so funny to me
user but who did lando call a dick and why?
↳ user probably harrison, if the context clues we've been provided are anything to go by.
↳ user lando has been their biggest defender since day 1 and i stand by that
user was i the only one who caught that brocedes reference?
↳ user lando knew what he was doing making that joke.
user lando casually wanted to remind everyone that oscar's brother-in-law is spider-man.
↳ user had to quickly flex on spidey's biggest fan, estie.
user and to think this whole joke started because of a taylor song.
user HE CALLED HIM A MUPPET!! THIS IS MONUMENTAL!
user lando is oscar and amelia's biggest defender, you can't change my mind.
↳ user it's oscmelia girl, get it right.
↳ user you're right my bad, terribly sorry.

harrison osterfield i don't exactly appreciate your friend and boyfriend calling me a dick online.
amelia holland and i didn't appreciate being strung along for almost 2 years...
sam holland HOW LONG?
tom holland but he was with his ex for almost a year?
tuwaine barrett oh damn
harry holland you have got to be fucking kidding me harrison.
zendaya never trust blonde men with blue eyes
amelia holland what about max and logan? zendaya never trust blonde men with blue eyes whose name starts with an h or a j. those two you can trust.
tom holland by the way how's oscar doing? we watched the race.
amelia holland a bit bummed about the dnf but that's the way things go in this sport. besides it's not like it can get any worse than this.
TWO HOURS LATER
amelia holland HOW COULD I BE SO FUCKING WRONG?!


ameliaholland posted new stories
💋 i'm totally going to lose tonight... you're looking at the winner of the bowling tournament. it was luck really, but operation cheer up charles and oscar was a success.

taglist: @six-call @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @woozarts @dear-fifi @tygecjjd @cataf1 @nothaqks @caipng @nataliambc @formulaal @lichterfee @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @hobiismyhopeu @melissayalene @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @nichmeddar @namgification @anniemae299
strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! just when you think he can't get any worse, he does! i have very strong opinions about texas, in case that wasn't obvious. texas was my breaking point + brazil, in case you couldn't tell who my favorite drivers were, you do now.
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s#the blue series#formula 1#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x female oc#formula 1 fic#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#f1 smau#f1 fic#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au
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I wanted to give my thoughts on the new episode, even if nobody really cares.
Spoilers, of course.
1. I love the new sprites, especially the Teruko ones.
3. I think Arturo's breakdown was very justified, and I'm glad that it happened. (also "shut your whore mouth" was the funniest shit I've heard all day!)
2. I think it's good information to know that the cast thinks they're 18 years old (inference), and Rose said that its likely been a few years. It gives us an age range now :)
2.5 (edit) Whit is looking really suspicious. I get the whole bond between him and Charles, but why would he say that Charles has no alibi if he wasn't out and about.
4. I think the fact that Teruko did not notice that Arei was swinging initially when she died, means she at least cared a bit and was surprised by her death.
5. I love the banter between Teruko and David about Xander. It's just so interesting to see such polarized and opposite opinions.
6. David really raises the question of is something out there worth more than the lives of 16 people, something I've never seen anyone consider yet or really much in Danganronpa before. I think this may end up being a justified kill.
7. David knows who Xander is... I hope that comes up again. I'm very curious as to who he really is and why David has memories. My theory is that David knew of him during or before the age of 18, so that memory wouldn't have been erased. Also why did he only say a year's worth of memories?
8. This is a bit of a leap, but I think it's safe to say David has Teruko's secret.
8.5 (edit) I'm starting to get sick of J accusing Arturo and Ace accusing Nico constantly. J is a huge fucking hypocrite, and honestly, as much as I love her, both her and Ace need to shut their goddamn mouths before I shut it for them.
9. I'm glad Hu had her moment. I talked to so many people who were starting to agree with David, so it was nice to see a different opinion. And I think she's right: that David shouldn't make the choice to die for them.
10. I'm glad David told Whit to shut up and called him out. I think that might help Whit have character development in the future, if he survives this trial.
11. My heart fucking sank when Levi confessed his secret.
12. I'm a huge Teruvid fan after this episode. I already was a fan, but holy shit.
13 (edit) David dropped the "good person" term on Xander. That's huge, considering the hidden text in the chapter card.
14. I could see Levi's reveal going one of three ways:
a. He's the killer as well and he's going to come clean
b. He's lying and he's the killer
c. He's telling the truth but he isn't the killer
Here's my opinions of the cast after this episode:
(Hu and David went up by a lot.)
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Dead Boy Detectives - Grief
Spoilers ahead for in series character death.
I received this NGL

I have a lot of thoughts about grief and Dead Boy Detectives. The show touches on grief a bit and there were some things in the show that immediately connected with my own experience with grief. So this question and answer was a bit of an emotional exploration for me. In my usual manner, I ended up with quite the ramble. Firstly, trigger warnings for mention of terminal illness and parental death.
I think Edwin, Charles, and Crystal, in the very small glimpse that we see, show three different aspects of grief and grieving. I'd be fascinated to see how each react long-term, but all we have so far is the scene in Esther's house and the next in Niko's room.
Grief is a difficult thing to predict. Edwin and Charles have a rather close relationship with lower-case "d" death - they have both lived through their own deaths, spend their afterlife constantly helping others deal with their death in a way, and have capital "D" Death hanging over them at all times, in the form of fleeing from her. Death isn't new to them, and I don't think grief really is either. They both have probably grieved their own deaths. Charles grieves the life he can't live. Edwin probably grieves not just his death but his time away - he didn't get to say goodbye, he didn't get to see what happened to his family. He didn't just die - he had his world ripped away. And we don't what's better - Edwin who suddenly is in a world not his own or Charles who has watched his slowly change and fade away and move on without him. But these are both losses that a person may grieve.
Edwin, with Niko, there is the added layer of connection. Edwin seems pretty determined not to form connections, by choice or false belief in his own inability to do so. He calls the living messy, even saying he'd welcome Crystal if she had died. He also seems aghast at the idea of having a living client in Becky Aspen. Charles is pretty open to befriending Crystal and Niko, so I think he's probably had a few living friends over the years. Meaning, he's probably lost some living friends over the years, either by death or them moving on from the perpetual-16-year-old.
Anyway, drawing it back to the moment of Niko's death and grief in that moment. I feel like grief hits you no matter how prepared you are, no matter how used to death you are. Because grief means you loved something or loved the hope of something or...its loss. Even if its loss you are used to or are prepared for. I see a lot of my own grief in Edwin and Charles.
To explain a little, I grew up with a mother with a terminal illness. She was given year to live when I was born and made it 28 years. She was fucking stubborn. Me and a couple of my siblings have had near death experiences. One of us even being declared clinically dead for a bit. And my father was a soldier, regularly deployed to war zones. Us kids were very aware of the fact that each goodbye when he deployed could be the last. So I grew up with death as a constant potential. It was always there, lurking nearby. And people used to tell me that at least, when someone I cared about passed away, I'd be used to the thought of it.
I wasn't. I don't think you can be, because you don't know the form that loss will take. What things in your day-to-day life it will color and which ones you won't.
I got used to the idea of death much the same way I think the boys have. But I wasn't ready when my mom passed away. And I don't think Edwin was when Niko passed away. That initial loss is like a mountain that's just dropped in front of you, that seems so insurmountable and also makes it impossible to see what's beyond, what life looks like afterwards. In the scene when Edwin, Crystal, and Charles are around Niko's body, it's Charles that grabs the other two, Charles that says they need to leave. This is the first time that is NOT Edwin inciting the flee from Death. Charles's death, the WW1 ghost, the Devlin house, the two Dragons. Each time, Edwin is the one that reminds Charles of the urgency to leave. Edwin initiate it. With Niko, Edwin can't. He's frozen. Not physically, but emotionally. He can't leave Niko. Until Charles makes him. I think this is a perfect example of the effect and weight of grief. Edwin has spent 30+ years running. He is constantly aware of the need to flee Death, the risk to himself and Charles if he doesn't, if he stops for even just a moment. But here, the grief over Niko overrides that decades built survival instinct. Edwin doesn't move. Edwin let himself befriend someone who could die, and even though he knew that people die and is so intimately familiar with death, that actual loss hits and it hits hard. On top of this, we know that Edwin doesn't always process his emotions. He has multiple comments about things being "too much emotion for one day" and again "messy" - grief is TOO MUCH emotion and is way messy. Edwin has started to explore his emotions and feelings, with his love for Charles, but I don't know if he ever actually fully explored grief. And I think he will this time. I think because it's Niko he will. Because Niko helped him explore love and open up and encouraged him in that journey, I think he'd feel he'd owe it to her to explore his grief properly. Do I think he'd do it immediately? Do I think he'd do it openly or well? No. But I think he will, eventually.
Grief also has a way of turning the familiar foreign. Charles and Edwin have been in each others space for 30+ years, and they have their roles. Its established immediately - "He's the brain. I'm the brawn." But its established in other ways, Charles being the smiley ones who charms the clients while Edwin is the fact-gatherer. Edwin again keeps them from Death's reach while Charles acts as the protector. Them moving around each other is familiar. Charles taking care of Edwin is familiar. Charles having to pull Edwin from death is foreign. Charles having to watch his friend lose someone is probably also foreign. When my mother passed away, my brother handled most things - funeral arrangements, phone calls to family and friends, reservations, flowers, everything. I supported him, keeping track of the to do list and making sure he stopped for food and water. My brother being the leader was familiar. Me being his second-in-command was familiar. Him thanking me for making sure he ate food was foreign. Him having to take 10 minutes outside the flower shop before he could drive was foreign. He was always the strong one, the one that couldn't be stopped. And while I was always his second, we never gave that words. We never talked about it. We just did it. And suddenly, these familiar things were foreign. I think this is Charles in that moment in Esther's house, and I think it'll be him moving forward. Charles takes the role that Edwin drops. Its an extension of his normal role, protector, but its still something that is solidly Edwin's job in their partnership. As for long term, Charles hides his emotions behind a smile. And yeah, him and Edwin had a moment in ep 5 about it and Crystal has called him out on it, but Charles hasn't changed in that regard. He hides his negative emotions behind a smile and he sets his own needs aside for others. I don't think grief is new to Charles. Imagine the dozen little griefs he experienced when he was alive - the grief of not having a loving father (he saw it with other kids), the grief of not having a mother who would protect him, the grief of not having any adult step in, the grief of his friends' betrayal. Charles was as used to sorrow as he was to rage and just as used to hiding it behind a smile. I think he does this here as well. I think he'll put his own grief aside, slap on a smile, and do everything he can to care for Edwin and Crystal. I think Charles will lean into the familiarity Edwin and even Crystal offer, definitely dive into solving cases - "all I need is my best mate and a case to solve".
Crystal for me is a third aspect of response to grief - connection. Some people, in grief, withdraw and isolate. When my mother passed, my family became closer. I definitely ignored some relationships, tangential friendships, but I clung closer to family. Crystal I think goes this route. This feels right to me given lack of connection and new connection is such a huge part of her storyline and arc. Crystal is ready to leave, reluctantly, but ready at the beginning of ep 8. She doesn't want to hurt Niko or the boys by staying and potentially being who she used to be, but she also wants to rebuild those connections she lost with her amnesia and with her past behavior. She's seeking connection, and she's seeking it, I think, where she feels she's meant to - her family, her parents. But her parents are the connection she needs, nor the one I think she reaches for after Niko dies. I think she'll still probably try to reconnect with them. After all, she helped convince Niko to reach out to hers and there is that drive there - Niko can't ever talk to her mother again. Edwin's family is gone. Charles can only watch his family in a mirror. Crystal is the ONLY one who can still see her family, so I think she does. But I think, with the grief of Niko, Crystal is also driven back to the boys. At the end of ep 8, Crystal doesn't try to leave again, instead, in Niko's room, she asks "what about us?". Charles offers her the out, bringing up what she previously said about returning to London alone, and Crystal rebuffs the offer, asking to be part of the Agency, to remain with the boys. There are probably multiple things that factor into this, especially considering Crystal very evidently didn't want to leave before but seemed to be doing so out of feeling like she could hurt them. Crystal seeks out connection here, holding on to the familiar bonds she's started to form, and strengthening them by asking to stay and asking to be a part of them. She admits how good they've been for her and her desire to keep that.
For the second part of this question - how'd they get to Niko's room. I'm assuming this isn't like "practically how'd they get there." Like, did the police show up. Was there an investigation into the explosion at the butcher shop and now a dead teenager also so soon after a missing child and an attempted murder turned accidental death? I assume we mean, "how'd they get to the point of standing in Niko's room and planning what comes next." And really, it makes sense to me and seems like the perfect follow-up to the previous scene. Grief and loss change a lot, but the shocking amount of things that stay business as normal is... a lot. Like I mentioned earlier, some people process by handling logistics and just making sure to get from a to b to c accordingly and keep everything moving and on track. Some people use future plans to help them move forward, to believe there's something beyond the grief and see past that mountain. Charles takes care of the others. Crystal clings to connection. Edwin sets his emotions aside until he can process them. So they move on, in little ways, in that moment - what do they (and Jenny) need to do for Niko. What's next for them. The agency is still running. Crystal still needs to go "home". They are still "alive" and business continues as normal even when its so clearly not. When I went through multiple death in a row, people seemed so confused that I was still going to work, still hanging out with friends, still going about my day. I was shocked too, at times, how a day would go by like nothing had changed. This scene sort of shows that for me - the idea that things keep moving. And we move with them. Hope this made some sort of sense.
#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#edwin payne#dbda#dead boy detective agency#payneland#save dead boy detectives#crystal palace#niko sasaki
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Innocent manga, worst husband material ?
Also, feel free to flood my inbox.
The question is, who are the characters I DON'T want to be married to. From greatest to least:
1. Soubise/Gaspard/Jean Baptiste: They're all equally just as bad. And you'll be a miserable wife. They won't skip a day to remind you that you're inferior to them in terms of gender, so that makes you inferior to them OVERALL. The usual of everyday is basically, daily brainwash, make baby, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, (Soubise/Gaspard definitely physical abuse), and you'll spend constant days contemplating your tragic life, and eventually you'd be pushed to a point where you're relying on the hope that committing suicide would be able to free you out of this life no different from a cattle's. If you go to hell for it, well, what's new? It won't compare to being married to them.
2. King Louis XVI: Dry ass marriage, with a dry ass husband. Awkward, weak, odd and childish. The only good side to him is he's the king, and weehee, his riches! He may be a kind, and devoted husband who cherishes his children. But I mean really, does that actually matter in the end? He ruled awfully and immaturely and before you know it, you and him are now being transported to the scaffold. Oh and your son is also being tortured and your daughter developed PTSD. Now I know it's not totally Louis Auguste's fault, the dynasty before him weren't any better either, but still...
3. Jean Louis: Obesity is his only bad side. But surprisingly I'd marry this cheerful lovely lump. He doesn't really suppress you from doing anything, (not that he can, poor man can't even get out of his bed). He also doesn't expect nor force you to follow any of your wife obligations. Just keep him fed, and you'll have a decent marriage. Though he is a greedy little glutton, Jean Louis isn't a lecher. He's sweet, devoted, and a good father. I love that he doesn't intervene in anything, he stays out of your way and you can almost continue on with your life as if you aren't married to anyone at all.
4. Charles Henri: He's a tender, loving husband who'd worship the ground you walk on. Yes, he had mistresses in the past before marrying you. Though now his affections are reserved for you and you only. Your marriage is healthy and strong. On the other hand, you can't really do much as the mother of his children. Like Jeanne, whether you agree or disagree on how your husband disciplines your children, tradition is tradition. The least you can do for your children is to offer them comfort after the end of their torture sessions with their father. He'll harden your sons into ideal executioners. And though it makes you proud, nothing will ever erase the mother's guilt of being unable to prevent your sons from suffering another wretched fate.
5. Alain: Definitely the best of them. You'd have a saint for a husband. He is the perfect epitome of paradise. It's heaven as long as he's by your side. Alain is compassionate and pure, overly so. I hope you don't mind sharing his love. Because his heart belongs to the whole world and so sadly, you won't be his priority. I assume he's the type to be absent a lot in your marriage, because he's always travelling and doing charity work. It doesn't mean he loves you any less, he writes to you often as he can.
#Alain Bernard#innocent manga#innocent rouge#charles henri sanson#soubise#subyss#jean baptiste#louis xvi#Louis Auguste#Jean Louis#Charles Henri
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Fast Pace- 4
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic.Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @
Word count: 2,4k
Masterlist
Part 3~Part 5

The sun is shining, and the sky is as blue as can be. There isn’t a single cloud surrounding the private jet and can’t help but take a quick photo. Carlos had already opened the door and his hand is already wrapped in yours. And as you walk up the steps of the jet, you can feel your heartbeat rise. Carlos had told you you’d be meeting his teammate and now you’re worrying if you can sell this long-term girlfriend thing.
“You’ll be okay, hermosa.” He whispers, only for you to hear and then gives your hand a slight squeeze. You’ll be alright, won’t you? The plane is already full of people. You can only assume it’s assistants, PR managers and flight attendants. They all great Carlos with utter respect and look at you mostly confused, but, likely in fear of their jobs, they too great you.
You can see Carlos’ teammate, his back is turned to you. That is until the person he’s talking to points to you. Charles turns his and shows a bright smile. He immediately stands up, makes his way to you and embraces Carlos in a huge hug. “Carlos, is this the girl you’ve been talking so much about?” A blush creeps across your face at his words, not only that but a smirk too.
You can see your new sugar daddy’s cheeks get coated in the same pink hue. “Ah, Charles, don’t expose me like that.” He replies, pushing you slightly forward, ever so scarcely showing you off. “I will. She must know, she must know.” After that, the driver turns his attention to you. “You must be Y/N. I’m Charles, but I’m sure you know. I hope Carlos talks about me as much as he talks about you.”
You give a slight giggle, “No, not really. Only when we were driving here.” Charles gasps, pretending to be offended. “No, I understand. I also wouldn’t talk about me if you were around.” Carlos shoots him a glare and Charles raises his hands. “Someone’s already protective.” He jokes, jabbing Carlos in the side with his elbow. You laugh, slightly caressing Carlos’ arm. Maybe to calm him down? You’re not entirely sure.
Then someone calls Charles again and he lets you two be. You can’t but wonder as he walks away, how could Carlos have said so much already? According to you, you’ve only known each other for a week. Is Carlos already so enamoured with you? Is it like you are with him? You and your girls talked for at least a few hours in total about him. A slight glimmer of hope sparks in your heart.
Carlos guides you over to one of the seats by the window. The seats are made of a beautiful brown leather and the cushion is plush. But still, you only now realise after the thrill of being Carlos, that you’ve never flown before. Then movies such as ‘Final Destination’ and ‘Castaway’ flash through your mind. Your heartrate rises again, and you bite down on your lip.
And then you hear the engine starting, you can see the plane moving down the runway. You can hear people clasping their seatbelts and the pilot talking. But nothing is realising in your mind. What if something happens? Your head is pushed back against the force of the plane starting. Your knuckles are white against the plane seats. Your eyes are glued to the seat as you watch the ground become further and further away.
It doesn’t take long for the plane to stabilise, clearly expert pilots, but even still your ears are completely blocked out. Maybe Carlos could see the way that your mind feels fuzzy, he takes your hand in his, brings it up and places a small kiss. His slight stubble tickles your hand, pulling you from your daze. “Are you alright, hermosa?” He asks, taking your chin slightly to look up at you into his chocolate brown eyes. You nod, hoping he doesn’t notice that you can hardly hear him.
“Yes, it’s just I- I've never flown before.” You blush, not wanting him to know truly just how little of the world you’ve seen. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, his dark brown brows pulled tight in concern. He looks so cute and that fact that you think that makes you want to chuckle. So many praises him, worship the ground he walks on for his mysterious and dark nature. But here he is, worrying about your plane ride. You just shrug as a reply.
He tsks, “Siempre tan terca.” He mutters and then calls over one of the attendants. Soon after he twists open the cap of a water bottle. He hands you the water, and as you swallow you can hear the pop and then you hear the laughter of the people on board. “Better?” He asks, wiping the drops from your lips. How much can this man make you blush?
You nod, not trusting your own tongue. “Good.” Then someone who has the same dark hair and eyes as your Carlos appears next to him. They smile and hug each other before he sits across them. “Hello, Y/N, I’m Caco,” his smile is kind, but he seems to be older and wiser than Carlos. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” you smile shaking his hand, entirely unsure of what else to say.
What does he think of you? Does he see you as some gold digger trying to get a grab at his cousin’s lifestyle? He’s the only one that knows, does he agree with Carlos’ choices. He doesn’t seem to hold any tension in his eyes. Or maybe, was it his idea? Do you have him to thank for your water and lights? “No need to be so formal. Carlos tells me you’re perfect, and what he says goes.” He chuckles, and Carlos mutters to him in Spanish.
“Now, Y/N, as you know, Caco’s knows. So, we’ve got to discuss the conditions of the agreement.” He explains, watching your every reaction, clearly, he’s signed so many contracts before and knows the procedures. You had expected this, he told you to think about this. But really, there was only so little you could think of. You nod, allowing him to continue. “You go first.” You tell him, not really sure of what you’re about to ask.
He’s just slightly taken back by this. He leans back in his chair, the way he spreads his legs causes filthy thoughts in his mind. “Alright,” he then reaches into your back pocket and pulls out the box of cigarettes that you always keep close by. “No more smoking. You’re quitting. Now.” He doesn’t allow a single thought of defiance. He continues without a step as if he’s asking you to drink more water.
Which he does. “You will eat three healthy meals a day and exercise when I do.” He can see the word rebellion on your tongue but with the singular raise of his brow, and a dark stormy look you don’t say a word. “You will join me with at least 7 of the last races left this season. And lastly, the most important one, you will accept any gift I give you, without question. If you want something, you will ask without hesitation.”
Will you be able to cope? With the expectations, the travel, appearances? All of that without the relief of your cigs? But really, why had you become so depended on them? Without the stress of a job, or money, what else is there left for you to worry about?
However, all of these requirements make sense, this is what you expected. “Any questions?” You shake your head no, “Do you agree with these terms?” Caco asks, he must be there as some sort of witness. You nod and then Carlos asks if you have any conditions. “I don’t have as many as you,” you mumble with a pout, feeling a bit unprepared. He chuckles, “That is alright, you can add more later.”
You take a deep breathe, “Okay... um, my mother has been bothering to visit her for months now. I want you to come with me.” He raises his brow, expecting an explanation. You sigh, hiding your face into his side, before lifting it again. “She keeps pestering me. I’ve been out into the world for like four years now and haven’t brought someone home. I guess I’m just tired of disappointing my parents.” You mutter, feeling a bit ashamed of your neglect of your family.
“And, and, I want you to pay my rent.” You feel just a bit ashamed of asking, it was really the most important things you could think of. The rest you’d worry about when you got further in.
“No.” He says and both you and Caco look confused. “I don’t want you living there anymore. I want you to look for a new place. Any price ranges, anywhere.” He says so casually as if you haven’t been stuck in that dump for the past three years. “You mean it?” You ask, the excitement already cooking.
“Yes of course, ask anything, we just agreed on that.” He scolds and you can’t help but let the gears turn in your head. “I have medical bills and my student debt is still not paid off...” He picks up the hint instantly. Carlos nods and then pulls out his phone and opens his banking app. “How much is it?” He asks and this time you must open your banking app. You can’t help but blush seeing the negative amount, next to his many zeros.
“Well I’ve been working hard the past three years, so I have twenty thousand left.” With each word you talk softer and softer. But he’s so in tune with you that he hears and enter the amount without question. “And the medical bills are a thousand. All in euro.” He doesn’t even hesitate for a moment. He enters the amount without question. It’s barely a few seconds before you see the amount in your account.
A bright smile covers your face and you quite literally feel your shoulders become lighter. For dramatic effect you sink into the soft cushion. He and Caco laughs, and Carlos already feels so happy to have you by his side. You seem so untouched by the heaviness of the world. Even after the struggle of your bank balance for so long, you still manage to stay childish.
After all, he’d give you the world just to see that smile again. You take a moment just to take in the feeling of being dept free. Which is so crazy for you. This something that you’ve dreamed about for so long and now it’s finally real. “Oh, I’m so happy I could kiss you.” You sigh out, not even realising your words. You hadn’t had time to set those conditions yet. The sugar part is completed, what about the daddy part?
Your eyes grow wide, understanding what you’d just said. A blush coats your cheeks. There is a moment of silence between the three of you before Caco continues for you, seeing the way Carlos’ eyes brew and flick to your lips. He loves his cousin very much, but he doesn’t want to see that. “Is there anything else you wanted?” He asks, trying to lift the tension. You bite your lip, thinking, “I want to go to every party you’re invited to.”
He glares for a moment; you can tell he so badly wants to say no. “And I want to go to every photoshoot.” “That I can agree too. But I’ll only agree to the first one if I am always with you.” You hold out your hand and then lift your pinky. “Pinky promise?” A wide smirk covers his face and then wraps his much bigger pinky around yours. “Promise.”

You could see through the plane window, the beauty of Zandvoort but seeing it all up close it breath taking. It wasn’t a very long plane ride. Carlos helped you through the landing. He let you hold his hand tight and even had them bring you some gum to chew, to help with your ears. But now you’re on your way to the hotel.
You rolled down your window all the way and you could smell the ocean breeze. And finally, when you saw it the first time, you screamed with glee. “I saw the ocean first! I get ice-cream.” You act all chuff with Carlos who only furrows his brows when you say this. “I will get you ice-cream any time-of-day mi corazon.” You can’t help but laugh at his words.
“You do not know the game?” You ask, in shock at his confusion. “It is a game?” He asks, his eyes still careful on the road. You gasp, shocked because it seems so normal to you. “When my family and I would drive to the beach, the first one to see the beach would scream out and they would get an ice-cream.” Carlos has a gentle smile on his face.
“You have a big family then?” He asks, hanging on to your every word. You chuckle, “Oui, I have 5 siblings, but we don’t talk much anymore.” You sigh, placing your head on your arms as you stare far past the window. Your excitement falling flat as your reminded of your small family house, and the small town you grew up in. Having to share your room with your two sisters.
People say you were lucky that they were twins. The left the house at the same time leaving the room all to yourself. But, at the end of the day, a very busy house, too small for eight was dead quiet. “Why no?” Carlos asks, it's unusual to him, he’s quite close to his family. You shrug your shoulders. “I’m the youngest, they were all long gone and out of the house by the time I was in high school.”
Carlos stays quiet, the cogs in his mind already turning. “Would you want to be closer to them?” He asks, his hand falling on your thigh as you come closer to the highway exit. Again, you only shrug, “If I had the chance.” He gives your thigh a slight squeeze before shifting gears again. The rest of the ride was quiet, and Carlos is already thinking of ways to make you smile again.

My taglist is open! If you wish to be tagged in this story alone, please comment or reblog with the words 'tag'. And if you wish to be tagged in all my posts please comment or reblog with the words 'tag all'.
#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#scuderia ferrari#sugar daddy!Carlos sainz#sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader#sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#carlos sainz smut
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ok im new to f1 so someones gonna have to explain this to me like im 5 before it gets too late for me to be asking these kinds of questions
what do you mean by oscar needing to be fast??? and getting those two tenths??? like you said it differs from racecraft and tire management,,, is it something your born with?? is it just stepping on the gas harder than anyone else??? (genuinely im so confused)
i'm not going to do a great job at explaining this either (and i don't claim to be an expert, or to be 100% accurate), but the sense, at least how i understand it is that
the two tenths ppl talk about with oscar is the PACE gap between him and lando - you'll notice it during the race, and in quali. oscar's consistently 1-2 tenths behind in quali (most of them anyway), and he's often much slower than lando in the race (re: lando can pull out 20 sec+ gaps when nothing gets in his way - that's speed).
with raw PACE it's like. your sense for the car, how fast you can drive. im of course uncertain about. the actual mechanics behind it, but it's about squeezing every bit of performance from the car that you can. like say you're in an f1 car, completely unimpeded, and just can go around the track and try to go as fast as you can, re: quali - i don't think raw speed is anything as simple as being "born" with it, but the way that a lot of drivers/pundits/etc. talk about it is something more natural than some skill you work on - maybe it's something you develop through karting/your junior career etc., but coming into f1, you pretty much Have speed, or you don't, and it's not something you develop really, by the time you're in f1
with racecraft and tyre management, it's like, that's the sort of experience you learn from - spatial awareness, ability to handle changing conditions, to outsmart other drivers, defend and overtake, etc. it's about building the whole package
drivers that i'd say have both raw pace and great racecraft are like max and charles. even early on in both their careers (especially 2019, i think about), you could see it in them. lando's pace is top tier to me, at the moment to me i'd rank him 2nd behind max when it comes to raw pace, this year has really shown that he's capable of pumping out fast lap after fast lap and extracting the maximum from his car when he's unimpeded (but obviously he has a better car than charles and lewis, so he's able to extract more/perform better with what he has), but he's comparatively a lot weaker than max and charles when it comes to racecraft.
if you really want to learn about this sort of things, in my experience, i've found that sim drivers talk about it most coherently. of course like Physical f1 drivers talk a lot about it, and their teams talk about it too, but when i'm trying to find, like, more critical and clear explanations, i'll read on r/simracing. of course it's different, but to get an idea of what the terms are, how it all comes together technically, simracing is a helpful thing to look at. like with simracing it's in ideal conditions and all very like. Technical without the physical conditions, so it tends to isolate the actual mechanics of things in a more digestible way, at least for conceptual purposes, if any of this makes sense
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Merry Christmas Newt!
@dont-offend-the-bees You simply said that, if I was inclined to write something, it could involve ghosts or ghost detectives -- so I threw Edwin and Charles of Dead Boys Detective Agency into the Valicer In The Dark verse. ^^; Hope you enjoy your favorite ghostly duo getting very confused and worried by Duskwall!
--
“Mate, I think that last mirror hop went a lot more wrong than we first thought.”
“Really?” Edwin murmured, looking around the misty street where he and Charles currently found themselves. “What tipped you off? The lack of familiar landmarks to navigate by? The frankly Dickensian architecture around us? Or the fact that the moment we tumbled through the glass, we were met by a woman who promptly started screaming ‘SPECTERS! FETCH THE SPIRIT WARDENS!’”
“Definitely the latter,” Charles replied, one hand deep in his backpack as he squinted into the gloam. “What do you think a ‘spirit warden’ is, anyway? Something like the Night Nurse?”
“Perhaps – I don’t recall ever hearing the term before, and unfortunately, as of right now, our library is off-limits to us.” Edwin glanced at Charles. “Perhaps, should we encounter one, I could encourage you not to immediately go in swinging with your cricket bat? The Night Nurse proved able to be reasoned with – perhaps they could too.”
“Yeah, well, I think taking a few to the face and getting swallowed by a sea monster for a bit is what softened her up enough to be reasoned with,” Charles argued, frowning back at him. “And I’m not letting anyone separate us. Not after what we’ve already been through.”
“On that point, we are thoroughly in agreement.” Edwin looked around again – or, at least, tried to. “Even if, right now, I think anyone could sneak up on us and have the advantage. How is anyone supposed to find their way around in this?”
“Guess the locals are used to it.” Charles rummaged around a little. “Know I’ve got your little alchemy set in here somewhere...you think you could brew up something to–”
“...this way, you said?”
“Yes, there’s definitely some ghosts around here.”
Edwin and Charles both froze as three hazy figures appeared at the end of the street, coming toward them fast. “Shit,” Charles hissed.
“Calm, calm,” Edwin said, as much to himself as to his friend. “Again, we might be able to talk to them. Maybe.”
Charles opened his mouth to snap something back – but before he could, the trio were upon them, features resolving themselves into something more definite than mere foggy shapes. They were a bit of a bizarre bunch – a young woman in a black-and-white dress and black cloak, holding a knife that glowed with a peculiar gray light; what looked to be a young man about the same age in a bright yellow vest and black pants, peering at them curiously with what appeared to be yellow eyes (another cat king?); and a second taller, paler man in a black suit and long dark blue coat, wearing a mask that appeared to be made out of twitching moth wings and carrying a pole with a loop at the end in one hand. They stared at Edwin and Charles for a long, quite worrying moment...
Then the fellow in the mask sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Oh – it’s all right,” he told his companions, collapsing the pole and stowing it away in a pocket. “They’re Reconciled.”
“Oh good – I really didn’t feel like getting into an electroplasmic scrap tonight,” the woman said, holstering her blade. She tilted her head as she looked Edwin and Charles up and down. “Though – that doesn’t explain why they’re in full color. I’ve never seen a ghost who wasn’t all blue or gray before.”
“Me either – maybe they’re a new type of ghost?” the other fellow said, before giving them a bright smile and a wave. “Hi! I’m Smiler, and this is Victor and Alice! Just a quick question – you’re definitely not interested in sucking our life essence, right?”
Edwin blinked a few times. “Ah – no,” he finally said. “I’m – certainly not currently inclined to do that.”
“We’re not local,” Charles added, not taking his hand out of his backpack – Edwin was deeply suspicious that it was clutching a certain cricket bat. “Don’t suppose you lot could tell us where we’ve ended up?”
“Duskwall, in Akoros!” Smiler provided, grin not budging. “Are you ghosts from another part of the Isles then? Oooh, maybe from Tycheros?”
“They don’t seem to have any of the usual tells, though,” the woman – Alice – said, squinting thoughtfully. “Victor?”
“I...” The masked man – Victor – stared hard at them, his eyes glowing with that strange gray light Edwin had seen on Alice’s knife. “They’re definitely not regular ghosts, but I’m not sure h-how precisely they’re different. Not hostile, just not – right?”
“Ah – lovely. A mystery for us to solve in the middle of the blind hour on our way back from a heist,” Alice grumbled, folding her arms. “But if they’re sane, then at least we can talk to them. Where do you two hail from, then?”
Edwin exchanged a baffled look with Charles. “We’re...we’re from England,” he said slowly, starting to get quite the bad feeling in his lack of stomach. “And I believe we’ve gone terribly astray.”
#dontoffendthebees#merry xmas#christmas fic#xmas fic#valicer#valicer in the dark au#dead boy detectives#dbda#...I do believe I said in the last post#any excuse to write my Valicer In The Dark AU ^^;#what can I say I really wanted to throw your detectives into a world where ghosts work MUCH differently#(for example everyone becomes one because there is no afterlife#and almost every ghost eventually loses their mind and starts trying to feed on people's life)#Edwin is going to have to take SOOO many notes XD#I watched a compilation of the two being a married couple to try and get a feel for their voices#so hopefully they feel at least somewhat in-character#the one thing I didn't like doing was having to slightly misgender Smiler during this#but Edwin and Charles wouldn't know that they identify as nonbinary would they?#not just yet anyway#...wonder how they'd react#anyway I hope you like this even if it's a bit self-indulgent on my part XD#queued
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The hospital heart-to-hearts that brought Kate and King even closer
by Roya Nikkhah
A source close to Charles said: “The King has always had a close, warm and unique relationship with the princess. She has a great love and respect for him and his position. When they were in hospital together there was a lot of toddling down the corridor to spend time with her. He has been encouraging and supporting her throughout.”
With both families fighting serious illness, some of the oldest tensions have fallen away. William and Camilla, whose relationship was strained for many years, have also become closer. The two have been in regular phone contact in recent weeks.
Not all relationships are as easy to heal, however. The tighter bond between the King’s family and his heir’s only highlights the wide gulf remaining between the Waleses and the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, whose Californian exile seemed further away than ever on Friday.
It is understood that Kate’s cancer diagnosis was not shared in advance with Harry and Meghan, whose short statement soon after the announcement said: “We wish health and healing for Kate and the family, and hope they are able to do so privately and in peace.” A Kensington Palace spokesman would only say: “We do not comment on private conversations.”
However, several sources confirm that there were no such conversations and it is thought Harry found out about Kate’s diagnosis from television, at the same time as the public.
In truth, Kate’s decision to go public in the way that she did flowed from her concerns, not about the royal family but about her relationship with the public.
“It allowed her to speak directly to the public who, overwhelmingly, have always been with her and her family and who don’t buy into the noise and gossip,” said a close friend. “It was all her, she wrote every word of it, it came together very quickly.”
Friends last week told The Sunday Times that William and Kate “planned to be more open and honest” about her condition: “They will want to be clear and more open, but they’ll do it when they feel ready. I would expect that to be her instinct and it will be her call. They’re not going to be rushed.”
But her candour in delivering a video message with so much detail about how she and William have processed the news and handled it with their children, Prince George, ten, Princess Charlotte, eight, and Prince Louis, five, surprised even those closest to her. “I didn’t expect this,” said a close friend who Kate turned to for advice when she had decided to make the statement.
The timing was determined by Kate’s keenness to quell further speculation about her health and her marriage, since her cancer diagnosis meant she would not be returning to royal duties as quickly as expected. “What had shifted in the last few weeks was the sense that she felt: ‘I’m not going to have a normal return to work after Easter that everyone is expecting,’ and everyone was anticipating some kind of update around Easter.”
More profoundly, Kate felt a duty to share her condition with the public to offer hope and solidarity for others experiencing the same challenges and to reassure the world that she is “well and getting stronger every day”.
The friend said: “It wasn’t really about the drama of the last few weeks, though obviously that has been upsetting. She felt she had to do it because of who she is. It was more that she knows she is a public figure and has a wider leadership responsibility. She knew she had to share the news because of how it was going to affect her work and her short-term future role, and [it was about] what was the most compassionate way she could deliver the news, so that it would land with the public in the least shocking way.
“A written statement, she felt, would be too jarring. It was about people seeing her, and her reassuring people that she was positive about it. Knowing it was news that was going to shock people, she wanted to do it as compassionately as possible. When things are really tough, that gratitude to the public for their support is their mantra.”
There were two other motivations. “She also wants to be able to carry on with as active and normal a routine as possible and not have it become a huge issue when she goes to a farm shop near their home in Windsor, with people then suggesting that’s a PR move. Moving forwards, they will be very strict on enforcing their right to privacy.”
But the greatest concern and top priority was Kate and William’s three children: the couple wanted to avoid an announcement while they were still at school. Lambrook School broke up for the Easter holidays on Friday afternoon, at the same time the media were told by Kensington Palace of Kate’s imminent announcement. “George is ten now and can’t be shielded from any of this now,” a palace source said. “Once it’s at the school gate and in the school playground, he won’t be able to avoid it.” The children do not return for the summer term until April 17.
Some friends of Kate are also frustrated that she felt the need to be so frank, in part to quell the (often wildly inaccurate) rumours that have been swirling about her on social media. “Catherine’s message was so honest,” a friend said. “Isn’t it sad that she has to be so honest and share that because of all the nonsense that has been around? I feel like the whole world has been gossiping about her and there is so much bullshit out there about her and her family. It was almost desperate that she had to do it.”
Her announcement also illuminates the dynamic between the Prince and Princess of Wales. While William was closely involved in Kate’s decision, it was one he dearly wished she had not felt compelled to make. “She did it with his full support and advice, he joined all the conversations around it,” a close friend said. “On every level he wishes she didn’t have to do it. But it was her decision, it wasn’t begrudged and he fully supported it.”
Some commentators questioned, on social media, why William wasn’t sitting with Kate when she made her shock announcement. “This was her as a strong woman sharing an innately strong message to the nation. She didn’t need anyone sitting next to her,” said a royal source. “He has been supporting her and the family in the background.”
Those close to William speak protectively of the prince, who lost his mother when he was only 15 and must now confront a situation where he and Kate have three small children of their own and where their mother’s health is part of the public discourse. “Undoubtedly what has happened to him in his life [with his mother] has led him into the protection mode he is in now,” said a friend. An aide said: “All he wants to do is protect his wife and children. The family just want to go away for Easter, spend time together, the five of them, close off from the world and move on.”
Those close to the Windsors are keen to play down any wider constitutional significance. “People need to calm down, take a medium-term view here, batten down the hatches and realise that the princess is positive, the King is positive and they will work together to come through it. In a decade, the younger generation will be out doing their thing. This is still a family fulfilling its duties.”
Insiders are also keen to quash any suggestions that the King’s cancer treatment would see him permanently withdraw from public life. In fact, planning is already under way for Charles to start to “ramp things up” from early summer. The King is “hoping” to attend an Easter Day service at Windsor next Sunday. William and Kate will be absent, but aides say Kate may attend some engagements in the coming weeks if she feels well enough. She will not return to full public duties until cleared to do so by her doctors.
William’s household is equally optimistic about the durability of the monarchy. “From the Prince of Wales’s perspective, he has looked to balance his private life supporting his family and his public life quite successfully for the last couple of months, and he will continue to do so,” said an aide. In that, he has the support of both his father and his wife, bonded tighter than ever by hospital heart-to-hearts and their determination to overcome cancer.
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Possession
Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland
Rating: E
Word Count: 6.700
Read on AO3
“It’s an experiment of some sort”, Charles explains, putting one of his hands on Edwin’s thigh and aching for it. “You know when I kiss you and you don’t feel feel it, but you still feel it? Somewhere in your head, or soul, whatever. I wanna do that. I wanna touch you and see if I can make you feel that” or: How to overcome the limitations of your non corporeal form by just really, really wanting to.
„I wanna try something“, Charles says as he perches onto the sofa next to Edwin, excitement thrumming through his body in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. The thing is, he might be onto something here, something huge.
Edwin doesn’t sigh when he puts down his book, but it seems to be a close thing; for once, it doesn’t matter, because Charles needs his attention and he needs it now. It’s not a new idea, more one he has been carrying with him for a few weeks now, but just a few minutes ago, when he looked over at Edwin, with his long legs and the graceful curve of his neck, his pink lips parted just so as he concentrated on his research, he suddenly felt a wave of desire wash over him. Desire to touch, desire to feel. And suddenly it had to be now.
“And what would that be, darling?”, Edwin asks, and although it’s nothing new at all, the term of endearment still makes Charles smile. It most likely will in a year from now, in a decade. In a century. “It’s an experiment of some sort”, Charles explains, putting one of his hands on Edwin’s thigh and aching for it. “You know when I kiss you and you don’t feel feel it, but you still feel it? Somewhere in your head, or soul, whatever.”
Edwin nods, a smile ghosting across his lips as he puts his hand over Charles’, holding onto it.
“I wanna do that. I wanna touch you and see if I can make you feel that”, Charles explains and squeezes Edwin’s hand, something he knows Edwin can sense somehow, because he does, too. “I wanna touch you everywhere, all the time, so bad. Please let me?”
There is no bed they can go to, but the sofa can be extended into one, because Crystal sometimes stays over if the investigations take too long. So, Charles reassembles the cushions, finds a blanket to spread across it, because even if Edwin mentions how their physical comfort won’t be impacted by these things, Charles will do this right. Edwin deserves one of those canopied beds fit for a prince, rose petals and champagne they cannot drink, but if they have to make due with what is available at the agency, then he will at least make the most of that.
“Lay down?”, he asks as soon as he is satisfied, and while Edwin looks like he isn’t quite sure what to do with his limbs, he settles down on the makeshift bed, looking up at Charles. On a whim, Charles kisses him softly, and he can feel it somehow, even if it is hard to explain, feels even more when Edwin sighs against his lips, reaches up to trail his fingers along the line of Charles’ jaw.
“So, what I am thinking”, Charles starts to explain, while he joins Edwin on the sofa, hovering above him, “is that I’m gonna touch you and I’m gonna tell you what I am doing, because your brain should remember how touch feels, even if it cannot experience it right now. And I… I think I’m also going to tell you what I think it would feel like, for me, just in case it helps.”
It will be awkward, especially at first, Charles is very aware of it, but it will be so worth it if it ends up working. And if not, at least they will have given it a good shot. Again, he leans down and kisses Edwin, who has been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, before asking, “Is that alright?”
He expects a hint of hesitation, because Edwin is a lot of things but definitely not adventurous, but there is none; Edwin nods immediately, then laughs at his own eagerness. “I’m sorry”, he says, “It’s just that I haven’t much experience with any of this.” “I know. Neither have I.”
And saying it like that feels kind of incredible, actually, the thought of being Edwin’ first. Of Edwin being his. Of Edwin being his only, Charles corrects himself, because this, they, are forever.
“Okay, so”, he begins again, because otherwise he’ll get lost in the green of Edwin’s eyes and the curve of his smile and the beauty of just being near him, and they’ll end up snogging for half the afternoon. Which, to be fair, is not a bad way to spend a day, but not today. “I’ll be getting your kit off for a start. And then we’ll go from there, alright?” “Yes. I trust you.”
And he does, Charles knows that better than he knows himself.
It’s difficult to pull away from Edwin, but he does it anyway, sitting back on his legs so he can get at the buttons of Edwin’ shirt. He has undone them once before, right at the beginning when they met, because Edwin had been stabbed by an iron knife and while Edwin had insisted that he was fine, Charles had needed to see the wound, to tend to it. Back then, the moment when he had pulled back the singed white linen, he had decided that he would protect Edwin from whatever came their way, even if the skin he had uncovered had been pale and flawless.
No lasting wounds, Edwin had explained patiently, as if that cancelled out the pain of it, and had been utterly confused when Charles pulled him into a hug and promised him that he would never let it happen again anyway. He had kept his word.
Now, when Charles pushes Edwin’s shirts off his shoulders, his skin is just as flawless as it was that day, and suddenly, there is no more space left for reminiscing, because Charles wants to touch him so much it feels not like desire, but a physical need.
“I’m going to touch you now”, he tells Edwin, looking up at his pretty, pretty face for a moment, and finding Edwin staring back at him already, eyes wide and alert. “I’m going to kiss your neck, because I’ve been wanting to do that for ages, and if you feel anything, let me know.”
And that’s it, that’s all the time Charles can spare before leaning down and pressing his mouth against the sharp line of Edwin’s jaw, parting his lips to lick across the skin there. Edwin makes a sound above him, startled, but in a good way, then there is a long-fingered hand sliding through his hair, holding onto him, and Charles can feel it, at least the ghost of it.
Slowly, Charles makes his way down Edwin’s throat, pressing kisses to every inch of skin he can find, laving his tongue across it, and God, how he wishes he could taste Edwin there, the salt of his skin, feel the warmth of it. His hand slides over Edwin’s chest, trailing across his ribs, and even like this, it’s so good to just touch him, be this close.
“Charles”, Edwin breathes out above him, and it’s the hardest thing he has ever done, but Charles tears himself away from where he is currently smearing kisses against Edwin’s collarbone so he can look at him instead. “What?”, he asks, smiling when Edwin looks up at him, lips bitten red and pupils blown so wide they seem to swallow all the green of his eyes. It’s a good look on him, one that sets something within Charles’ soul on fire.
“Nothing”, Edwin replies, and he sounds wrecked, beautifully so. It makes Charles shiver. “Just. Don’t stop, please?”
He’s so beautiful like this, neck bared and chest heaving with breaths he isn’t taking, and Charles loves him so much it feels like an avalanche, a force of nature.
“You can feel it? When I kiss you like this?”, he asks, and Edwin nods, eyebrows drawing together. “Kind of. It’s like when we usually kiss, just more. And then there’s a tingling wherever you touch me, like nothing I have ever felt before.”
“I knew it would work”, Charles replies and grins, then strokes his hand down Edwin’s side just to watch his reaction. And react he does, shivering as his eyes follow the trail of Charles’s fingers, his lips still parted around a sound he doesn’t make.
“It feels good for me too”, he adds, because Edwin still seems dazed, just in case there was ever any doubt. “Like I’m hot all over, like all I ever want to do for the rest of time is to touch you. I can’t feel it, but I imagined that your skin would be warm and soft. And that I could taste it. I want to taste you so bad.”
Maybe it’s more of a confession than anything else, but it doesn’t seem like Edwin minds, because his eyes snap back up to Charles’ face, and finally, that sound spills from his lips. A broken, fragile thing, something between a moan and a gasp, and it’s like a bolt of pure, unfiltered lust strikes Charles, leaving him light-headed. He leans down and kisses Edwin without thinking, licking the last remnants of the sound from his mouth, then into it, until it feels like he is drowning.
“You like that? Me talking about how much I want to touch you?”, he asks when he eventually pulls back, their lips still brushing, and Edwin nods almost frantically. It’s so sweet, it’s so him, that Charles can’t help but smile and press a shorter, softer kiss to his lips. “Me too”, he confesses, “I want you to always know how much I love you. It took me a while, I know, but God, Edwin, my heaven would be just this. Laying here with you, kissing you, making you moan like that. Having you close.”
Again, Edwin makes a sound and it sounds even more wrecked than the last one, and Charles decides in that moment, that it won’t be enough until he has made Edwin fall apart completely. So, he drags his lips down Edwin’s throat again, kissing and re-kissing the skin there.
“If I could, I would leave a hundred marks on you”, Charles mutters between kisses. “Make sure that everyone knows you’re mine with only one glance. No more pretty crow boys pining after you, or weird immortal cat people not wanting to let you go.” He latches onto the skin just below Edwin’s collarbone and gives it a hard suck, imagining the skin reddening, a bruise blooming that would show the world that Edwin had made his choice.
“Charles!” The words startle a laugh from Edwin, the action turn it into a shaky moan, and once again, Charles has to look up at him, a smile playing on his lips. “No need to be possessive. You know I’m yours.” “I do. I just want everyone else to know it, too.”
Even though his eyes are still dark, Edwin is smiling, bright and happy under the veil of lust. “I love you the most”, he says, and it makes something familiar and warm and beautiful bloom in Charles’ chest. “You too”, he answers. “Always. But now, let me get back to making you moan my name.”
And he does, turning Edwin’ laughter to something much more breathless when he seals his lips around one of Edwin’s nipples and sucks, circling it with his tongue as if to soothe the sting a moment later. He can feel Edwin quaking under him, and there, right on the tip of his tongue, is a hint of remembered salt, the imagined sensation of soft flesh.
“Tell me what you feel”, Charles whispers against Edwin’s chest, his hands sliding down his sides, tickling along his ribs. “Tell me what you imagine it would be like.”
“It’s- it’s like I can feel it in my head”, Edwin gasps out, arching up when Charles presses a flurry of kisses to his sternum, before continuing on to Edwin’s other nipple. “The more you say, the more I see you touch me, the stronger it gets. And it’s more than just that, I can- I can sense your tongue on me. Your lips. Your hands. I can tell them apart.”
Almost as a reward, Charles leaves a kiss over Edwin’s unbeating heart, laving his tongue across the skin there, and he gets a sigh in response, a beautifully shaky breath.
“It’s like I can almost feel you”, Edwin says, and it’s all Charles wanted to hear. “The heat of your mouth and the slickness of your tongue. Even if there is no reason for it, I want you leave your marks on me. I want to see them tomorrow. I want to leave my own on you.”
This time, it is Charles who shivers, because oh, he craves that more than he could have imagined.
Instead of replying, he slides down Edwin’s body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses on Edwin’s stomach until he can drag his teeth across his hipbones, making Edwin moan low in his throat. Charles can sense the firmness there, hidden behind a layer of flesh and even this smallest sensation is painfully good, fills him with a heat that is almost unbearable and that he still craves more of.
His tongue flicks out and there it is again, a hint of salt.
“Can I…”, he starts, and nuzzles his cheek against the dip between Edwin’s hip and thigh, before looking up at him. The breath leaves Edwin with a hiss, his eyes slipping shut for a second or two. “Good God, Charles”, he replies, his voice deep and raspy. “Yes, yes, you can do whatever you want to me, just don’t stop.”
There is nothing in the world that could stop Charles, not when Edwin is looking at him like this, so he doesn’t waste a second before reaching out and… … and Edwin is hard against his hands.
Back when Charles was devising this plan, he expected the pleasure to be the same kind he feels when kissing Edwin, a mental kind of sensation, beautiful but still non-corporeal, just like the two of them are.
But now, Edwin is hard, straining against the seams of his pants, and Charles might be having an aneurysm caused by the absolute tidal wave of lust crashing over him, burying him, drowning him. Because Edwin is hard for him, and Charles never needed to touch him more.
“Fuck, Edwin, I swear-”, he stutters out, fingers slipping across the buttons, fumbling to get them open. Finally, he succeeds, and all but rips them down Edwin’s hips, uncaring that the fabric strains and he will get scolded for it later. Now, however, it doesn’t matter, because Edwin is hard, his cock flushed and pink and shining with precome, and Charles needs to touch him.
He brings a hand up to his lips and licks it – Edwin makes a sound at that, and the thought that he is watching him might be what finally does Charles’ mind in completely – before wrapping it around Edwin’s cock, giving it a long, slow stroke to savour the feeling, the silkiness of Edwin’s skin, the heat of his blood-warmed flesh. It’s so little still, yet it makes Edwin moan loud and broken and desperate, and when Charles looks up at him, his head is thrown back, his beautiful, long throat bared for Charles to kiss. Which he does, wet and messy, licking down the length from Edwin’s jaw to his collarbone, sucking where the tendons are standing out. He can feel the vibrations of Edwin’s moans against his lips with every stroke of his hand, and maybe this is the first time he is doing it, but Charles will be damned if he won’t find out every little thing that makes Edwin moan, every touch that makes him shiver.
“God, I love you”, he whispers against Edwin’s throat, drags his teeth across the sensitive skin there and twists his hand around Edwin’s cock on a downstroke to find out if it changes his pitch, deepens his pleasure. “I love you the most of everything in this whole world, thank you so much for letting me touch you, for-”
“Charles”, Edwin interrupts him, one hand sliding into his hair to make him look at Edwin, whose eyes are dark with lust, with wonder. “Charles, I can feel you.”
It makes Charles stop dead in his tracks, his hand coming to a rest mid-stroke and drawing a desperate little sound from Edwin, who is still looking down at him like he has performed a miracle. And maybe he has, because… because Charles can feel him, too.
“Edwin”, he breathes out, overwhelmed. He can feel the heat of Edwin’s skin against his, not as a memory or a spark, a thrum in his mind, but like skin. A moment passes in which he is frozen in place, then Charles surges forwards to kiss Edwin with everything he has, every bit of love and gratitude and eternal devotion.
This kiss is not their first, and it doesn’t feel like it either, but it is the first of its kind, and Charles drinks down every sound Edwin makes, brings his hand up to cradle Edwin’s face, stroke his fingertips along his jaw, down his throat. It makes Edwin shiver, and Charles laughs against his lips, still mindless, speechless.
“I can feel you”, Edwin mutters, and there are tears in his eyes, tinting his voice, and he’s so beautiful Charles feels like he is looking straight into the sun, it’s so blinding. “Me too”, Charles answers and Edwin’s smile grows wider still.
For a moment, it’s just that, and it’s enough, more than that, even, but then Charles remembers Edwin’s lust-darkened eyes, his body arching towards him, the feeling of Edwin’s cock blood-hot against his palm, and Charles needs to see him fall apart beneath him. “I’ll make sure you really feel me”, he tells Edwin with a wink, ignoring the tears in both their eyes, and gives him one more kiss before he slides his hand down Edwin’s body one more time.
His skin is soft, slightly slick, and so, so warm, and Charles gives him one, two strokes, just to watch Edwin move with the motion, chasing Charles’ touch, before he leans back in and kisses a line from Edwin’s lips to the hollow of his throat, dragging his teeth across the expanse of Edwin’s collarbones. It draws a soft moan from Edwin’s lips, so Charles does it again, while his hand speeds up around Edwin’s cock, alternating the pressure between strokes to find out what will make Edwin lose his mind the fastest.
L ike this, he might be the most beautiful Charles has ever seen him, reacting to every touch, every little kiss, and for a moment, Charles wonders what would have happened if Edwin had been permitted to grow up. If he would have found someone to love him like Charles loves him, if he would have permitted someone else to take him apart like this. However, in the end it doesn’t matter, because Charles is here now and he will do his best that Edwin never even has to think about anyone else.
He sucks an invisible mark onto the base of Edwin’s neck, another one over where his pulse point would be, and Edwin’s hips snap up, trying to get more friction and Charles is desperate for this, for everything else Edwin will give him. With the next upwards stroke, he twists his hand a little and Edwin moans so sweetly, one of his hands coming to rest on Charles’ lower back and pulling him closer. Charles moves willingly, like he does every time Edwin directs him, pressing against his side until there is pressure against his crotch, and. Oh.
Giving Edwin pleasure had been more than enough, but now Edwin’s hip is pressing against him and suddenly, Charles notices that he is achingly hard inside his pants. His hand stutters around Edwin’s cock as his hips give a few uncoordinated, messy thrusts, Charles moaning against the crook of Edwin’s neck. “Charles, are you-”, Edwin asks, sounding downright debauched in how he moans Charles’ name, and it’s enough to snap Charles back to thinking, to acting.
“Of course, I’m hard”, he answers against Edwin’s skin between kisses, his hand returning to stroking Edwin slowly, deliberately, “I’m touching you, I’m listening to you, how could I-” His words leave him when Edwin pulls him closer still, on purpose this time. Instead, he moans, smears his kisses onto Edwin’s skin, bites them into his flesh.
It feels like heaven, but it’s still not enough, because Edwin is still coherent enough to talk while Charles feels like he is slowly losing his grip on reality. So, he pulls his hand away from Edwin’s cock for a moment, licks it messily to slick up the glide when he returns it to where it belongs, only that…
… only that he can taste Edwin on his skin.
He shouldn’t be able to pinpoint it so easily, but he can, maybe because he hasn’t tasted anything in three decades, because when he darts out his tongue again, he cannot taste the salt of his own sweat, only something different, musky. Only Edwin.
The realisation rips through him, leaves him light-headed and almost blind with lust. Beneath him, Edwin whines, most likely because of the lack of contact, but Charles can hardly hear him over the desire coursing through his veins.
“Edwin, I can taste you”, he slurs, half as an explanation, and it feels like crying, feels like praying. This time, he doesn’t wait for an answer, however, because Charles can taste him, and it’s not enough. Won’t be enough until his tongue is coated in Edwin’s taste, warmed by his body heat.
Without another word, h e slides down Edwin’s body, wraps one hand around his cock again and swallows down as much of him as he can. He’s warm against Charles’ tongue, the skin soft and smooth, and he tastes like the only thing Charles will ever taste again and it’s more than he could have ever asked for.
Edwin’s hips buck up, but Charles’ gag reflex died with him, so he doesn’t care, just starts bobbing his head in time with Edwin’s thrusts, caught between the slick sounds of his own lips sliding against skin and Edwin’s gasps, his moans of Charles’ name. The hand that slides into his curls, not pushing, just holding onto something, the lust that comes in waves with every new sensation, and, of course, Edwin’s taste across his tongue, seeping into his very being.
“Charles”, Edwin forces out, almost coherent, and Charles understands the warning as what it is, then ignores it thoroughly. There is no way Edwin is coming anywhere but down his throat. So he picks up his rhythm, brings down his second hand to cup Edwin’s balls, and sucks as hard as he can.
Edwin comes with a shout of Charles’ name, bucking off the makeshift bed almost violently. His hand tightens in Charles’ hair until he can feel the pinpricks of it, his muscles shaking, and Charles can taste him more clearly than anything he has ever tasted before. It’s heaven, kneeling right there between Edwin’s thighs and sucking him through his orgasm, licking him clean afterwards, smoothing his hands across the soft plane of Edwin’s stomach. Feeling him, tasting him.
When the last aftershocks have subsided, Charles settles down next to Edwin, curling up close, and watches as Edwin’s eyes slowly open once mor e. T hey are hazy, but full of adoration, a lazy smile spreading across his kiss-red lips. “ That was incredible”, he whispers, because Charles is close enough that he can hear it anyway. And he presses a kiss to his lips that Charles can still feel, rests their foreheads together, and it’s everything, because Edwin is everything.
Only that then, he pulls away, and Charles almost whines because he shouldn’t be forced to spend a second not touching Edwin when he can feel it, and when he doesn’t yet know if this is something that will wear off with time again. But Edwin doesn’t go far, only enough to look at Charles with eyes that are slowly regaining their green, his thick brows furrowed just so.
“You… didn’t, though”, he says, and he’s right, but for a moment, Charles wants to tell him not to worry about it anyway. Because being here, being close is enough, would always have been enough for Charles, had they realised that this didn’t work. He saw Edwin fall apart beneath his hands and his mouth, heard him gasp out his name, tasted him and felt him, and really, that is more than he ever could have hoped for.
However, Edwin has other plans, quite obviously, because he shifts so he can press the side of his thigh against Charles’ aching erection and suddenly, Charles isn’t sure if that is an option any longer. It’s like Edwin’s touch reignites every spark of lust in his body, and maybe that even makes sense, since it’s the only thing Charles has felt in decades.
He lets out a low moan, hips grinding forward, and Edwin is kissing him, smiling against his lips, moving one of his hands to lightly rest on Charles’ stomach. Asking for permission, quite clearly, which he quite obviously can have, because there is nothing Charles wants more than Edwin’s hands on him.
Only that there is.
“Edwin”, he gasps out, trying his best not to lose his mind as Edwin’s hand slips underneath the waistband of his trousers, teasing. “Have you ever heard of a refractory period?” A moment of pause, then Edwin says, “No, but what has that to do with anything?”
Everything.
He leaves Edwin on the makeshift bed for a few moments and hunts down the hand lotion Crystal keeps around for when the dust in the office gets too much for her delicate skin, makes a mental promise to never let her find out about this, and to make up for it somehow. Because right now, he doesn’t what else to do, but use it.
Edwin is still naked and glorious when he returns, looking like the kind of lover that would have inspired poetry in the past, the kind Edwin sometimes reads him at night when they are curled up on the sofa. His hair is mussed, his lips are cherry red and he is watching Charles with curious, half-lidded eyes in a way that makes Charles feel loved and wanted and a little bit like prey.
“So, the thing is this”, Charles says, dropping the lotion bottle on the sofa and starting to shuck off his shirt. “I really need to feel you inside of me.” The words draw a sound from Edwin, choked and disbelieving, and Charles allows himself a smile as he discards his shirt and vest, starts to work on his trousers. He doesn’t get far, though, because Edwin surges up and replaces Charles’ fingers with his own, sliding down the zipper while looking up at him from dark eyes.
And what a picture he makes, sitting there on the bed naked, right in front of Charles, ready to be kissed, ready to be touched.
“You want that?”, Edwin asks, and Charles credits Niko’s manga collection with the breathless understanding painted across his face, thanks her for it silently. He’s not sure if he could make it through an anatomy lesson right now, when he feels like he is going to explode if he doesn’t feel Edwin soon. “More than anything”, Charles answers, and it’s like Edwin’s breath catches in his throat, at least the sound of it. “You have absolutely no idea.”
His trousers drop to the floor and neither gives them a second thought, Edwin because he looks at Charles like he has never truly seen him before, Charles because Edwin is right there, beautiful and willing to give him this, and always, always loved. Without wasting a second, Charles pushes his briefs down and Edwin makes another sound, wounded and almost desperate this time, and while he hasn’t touched Charles much yet, his hands are suddenly all over him. Trembling fingers run along his sides, smooth across his thighs, then Edwin leans in and presses a kiss to Charles’ stomach, another and another until Charles has to push a hand into his hair to stop him.
“Edwin, babe”, he breathes out shakily, almost moaning when Edwin nuzzles the skin below his navel, “can’t do that right now, or otherwise we won’t get very far at all.” It takes a moment, but then Edwin looks up, so smug that Charles falls in love with him all over again. “Next time, though?”, he asks and Charles nods immediately, light-headed because this is not only a possibility now, but a promise. “Good. I want to know how you taste. How you feel against my lips. I have never touched another man before, but I want you to be the first.”
“Edwin!” Charles is half-laughing, half-groaning; he cannot listen to this now, or probably ever. So, he pushes Edwin back onto the mattress with a gentle, but firm hand, and Edwin goes willingly, sprawling onto the mattress like an oil painting, like the wet dreams Charles can hardly remember having. His skin gleams in the dim light of their office, his hair is a mess that Charles’ hands have caused, and…
Charles feels like he might faint the hundredth time this day, because right there across Edwin’s throat, painted in dusty pink, the marks Charles has been trying to suck onto his skin are glistening.
Faintly, he is aware that he is breathing out a moan, because one of Edwin’s eyebrows rises, but it doesn’t matter, the only thing that still matters is that Charles’ lips have left traces on Edwin’s perfect skin. “Fuck”, he mutters under his breath while he clambers back onto the sofa, limbs uncooperative with his sudden desperation, until he is straddling Edwin’s thighs and can kiss him again fiercely, first his lips, then the side of his jaw, the soft skin of his throat, already marked and yet still far too pristine. Without hesitation, Edwin bares his throat to him, and Charles takes the invitation, bites at the tendons there, before licking the sting away once more.
“Edwin, I can see them on you”, he groans against his skin once he can think again, hands grabbing every bit of Edwin they can find, “there’s marks on your skin, my marks.” The sound Edwin makes is almost wounded; he pulls Charles closer, one hand coming up to press his head against the crook of his neck, and Charles opens his mouth and bites him there, sucks at the flesh until he can feel its heat.
You’re mine , he thinks, although it’s nonsensical, because Edwin has never been anyone else’s, you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine .
At the same time, he’s reaching for the bottle of lotion, because as much as he needs to see his claim on Edwin’s skin, he needs to feel him so deep inside of him that he’ll never forget the sensation.
“Charles, let me”, Edwin breathes out when he realises what he is doing, but Charles just shakes his head, unwilling to let go of Edwin for even a second. “It’ll be quicker if I do it”, he explains, words spoken against the slick, warm skin of Edwin’s collarbone. “Can’t feel my own fingers, can I?”
Edwin chokes at that, but he doesn’t disagree, only grips Charles’ back and drags him forward, causing Charles’ cock to be caught between them, sliding against Edwin’s stomach, and it feels like dying . Pleasure shoots up Charles’ spine, filling him to brim, and before he knows it, he is gasping against Edwin’s neck, doing his best to still his hips, because he could come like this within minutes, if not seconds.
He takes a shaky breath, trying to calm himself, before prying the bottle of lotion open, still almost desperate as he blindly squeezes some of it on his fingers. It feels like nothing at all, just like everything but Edwin does, but Charles reaches behind himself and finds his entrance, wasting no time before shoving two fingers inside of himself. This, too, is only a matter of faint pressure and the awareness of his hand’s position, but maybe it’s for the best, because Edwin’s fingers are leaving tracks of fire on his bare back, tickling along his sides and sliding against the nape of his neck, tender and possessive at the same time.
Scissoring his fingers, he mouths at Edwin’s throat again, cock dragging against his stomach when Charles pushes his fingers deeper still. Sparks of pleasure tingle through his limbs, setting his blood on fire, and Charles is faintly aware that he is moaning, his hips rolling against Edwin desperately. The memory of his muscles is easily coaxed into giving in, and Charles adds a third finger as soon as the pressure around them fades, because even if they technically have forever, it feels like he might die if he doesn’t feel Edwin inside of him soon.
For now, though, he loses himself in the pleasure of Edwin’s fingers, in the drag of his cock between their bodies, and it’s only when Edwin mutters his name against the crown of his head that he resurfaces, nipping at Edwin’s throat once more before pulling back slightly, resting his chin on Edwin’s mess of a collarbone to look up at him. He’s beautiful from every angle, at every moment, and yet he looks impossibly so now, staring down at Charles with something like awe in his beautiful, beautiful eyes.
“I love you”, Edwin tells him, and Charles feels like dying, feels like he has come alive again. “I love you, too”, he answers, and it’s everything and more than he could ever has asked for and something he will never get enough of.
He surges up to kiss Edwin like his whole existence depends on it and Edwin kisses back with the same fervour, and Charles needs him more than he has ever needed anything before.
Although it is impossibly difficult to leave the warmth of Edwin’s skin, he pushes himself up, fingers slipping out, and maybe he is stretched enough, maybe it will hurt; Niko’s manga only shows so much about the process, and Charles hadn’t bothered to do more than perfunctory research otherwise. And anyway, he realises, while he sits back on Edwin’s thighs, trembling and looking down on the blotchy mess he has made of Edwin’s throat, maybe he wouldn’t mind a hint of pain, as long as if it was caused by Edwin.
When he looks down, his cock is leaking and so is Edwin’s, and it’s everything he never thought they could have, and maybe there is something poetic and poignant about that; maybe he will have to ask Edwin about it later. For now, it doesn’t matter, because Charles is burning up inside, every non-corporeal atom of his body aching for Edwin’s touch, his kisses, his hands on him.
“I’m gonna-”, Charles starts, squeezing more lotion on his hands and forgetting how to speak halfway through the sentence, because Edwin is watching him with so much desire in his eyes that it scrambles his brain. “I’m gonna touch you.” And he does.
Edwin’s cock is hot and silky in his hand, twitching as Charles spreads the lotion across his skin, and Charles has to stop himself from leaning down and tasting him again. They’ll have time for that later, he tells himself, and it is true and yet something Charles can hardly believe they will be granted.
Instead, he gives Edwin two, three slow strokes, watches the muscles under his skin work as Edwin chases his touch, fire burning him up. It’s like a physical need buried inside him, a void only Edwin can fill, and Charles knows he is trembling when he rises up on his knees, shaking when he positions himself awkwardly above Edwin’s lovely, leaking cock.
“I love you”, he tells him again, for no reason but that he wants to taste the words, and slowly lowers himself down onto Edwin’s cock. It’s strange at first, the pressure and the single point of warmth where they are touching, but then his body gives way and Edwin is inside of him, and the feeling is indescribable.
There is a hint of pain, like an after image from staring too long into the sun, but it’s nothing, hardly worth mentioning, because Edwin is hot and firm, spreading him open and moulding a space for himself inside of Charles’ body where he belongs, setting him aflame from the inside in the process.
He’s moaning Edwin’s name, hands pawing at his chest, and then Edwin reaches out and pulls him down, kisses Charles like he has never been kissed before. Edwin’s hands are on his shoulder and in his hair and it makes Edwin’s cock shift inside of him, and Charles is lost in this. His hips roll to get more friction, making Edwin gasp into his mouth, so he does it again, and again, and again, until they are moaning against each other’s lips, fingers trying to find purchase to ground themselves.
Every motion makes sparks fly up Charles’s spine, tingling down his arms to the tips of his fingers, and then Edwin rocks up in time with him, causing his cock to slide even deeper, and Charles moans like the sound was punched out of his lungs. He is clinging to Edwin now, grinding down onto him, and he could cease to exist like this happily, because Edwin is all around him, inside of him, on the tip of his tongue.
The friction is enough to make him gasp, almost makes him weep, but Edwin rolls his hips like he is trying to drive Charles out of his mind and some angle, some detail must change, because the head of his cock drags against a spot inside of Charles that makes him see stars.
He all but shouts out Edwin’s name, grinding down against him to get more of the pleasure, and Edwin gives it willingly. His teeth catch on Charles’ bottom lip as his hand slides down to rest on Charles’ thigh, gripping it like he needs to hold onto him to keep his sanity, and Charles understands it perfectly. “You feel so good”, he slurs into Edwin’s mouth between desperate rolls of his hips, and Edwin makes a little, wounded sound, holds him tighter. “I love you so much, I love you so much.”
Edwin seems to be beyond words, but that is okay, because he is still kissing Charles like he is drowning, fucking up into him just right, and Charles is lost in the motion and the pleasure and the love, until Edwin sneaks a hand between their bodies and grasps his cock.
And it’s too much.
It doesn’t even take a single stroke before Charles is coming, bucking up desperately into Edwin’s hand, grinding down onto his cock. The pleasure is unlike anything he has ever felt before, overwhelming him completely and leaving him breathless until he cannot tell where Edwin ends and he begins. His body is alight, and he is burning up and he couldn’t ask for anything better, so he sobs his love and devotion into Edwin’s open mouth and knows he will be heard.
It only takes a few moments longer until Edwin follows him, thrusting up into Charles’ willing body, holding him close, and if there is anything that feels better than falling apart around Edwin, it’s feeling him do the same underneath of Charles, because of him.
They ride out their orgasms together until Charles is weak and trembling above Edwin, all but collapsing on his chest. Slender arms come up to wrap around his middle, and Charles has felt loved before, feels loved every day now, but the motion still brings tears to his eyes as he snuggles into Edwin’s embrace.
For a long while, neither of them speaks, although there are a thousand things to be said, at least half of them I love you, but there are no words left in Charles’ mind.
Eventually, he presses a kiss, soft and sweet and tender, against one of the bruises he has left on Edwin’s collarbone, and Edwin’s arms tighten around him in response. And maybe that is all that needs to be said, after all.
#dead boy detectives#dead boy detective agency#edwin payne#charles rowland#payneland#painland#paynland#charles x edwin#i cannot stop writing them it is insane#this is almost 7k of just them loving each other so so so so much and finally being able to do something about it (handjobs etc)
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people here and there saying that max 100% would activate performance clause to leave rbr at the end of this year, and I kinda wish he was, but…
where would he go? ferrari jailed lewis and charles for unknown period of time, same with aston (i heard fernando’s contract expires in 26, but still). It leaves mercedes (?) and don’t really know about it, like kimi is probably staying in team, toto would not lose him and what about george? I just hope that rbr would put themselves together after further upgrades🥴
also little sad predictions, liam and jack probably would lose their seats :((( if liam continues like that (let’s not forget that MAX struggling with that car very much too), knowing rbr he probably won’t even last till summer break😵💫
I think if (and I have no idea if he will leave or not) but if he leaves at the end of this year and goes to another team it will be Mercedes in my opinion. There is technically a free seat there as George’s contract expires and there is a lot of talk about Mercedes being strong under the new regs. George has been driving well though so who knows. A Max and Kimi line up would be exciting.
If he stays in 2026 and then leaves then I think there will be seats free at Ferrari and Aston. I don’t think Fernando will stay beyond 2026 but I just don’t know if Aston will be competitive enough. I don’t know the details of Lewis’ Ferrari contract but I can’t see him staying long term, but who knows, if Ferrari give him a competitive car he might stay longer. Fred has said in the past that any team would want Max though so I think they would be interested in a Max and Charles line up.
I feel like seats that are unavailable could become available for Max.
There is also the option of him moving to another racing series, although I don’t know if that would really be a possibility in 26.
It would be good if Red Bull could sort their shit out, I am waiting until the first upgrade package to assess!
If Liam continues like this he probably won’t last the year. However, the car is clearly bad and they aren’t winning the championship this year so they can likely afford to give him a little longer to settle. I don’t think he has suddenly forgotten how to drive, this is just a difficult car to handle. Perhaps they could send him back to Vcarb, Pierre went back to Alpha Tauri and things worked out well for him in the longer term. Not sure if they would do that though or if they would move Yuki to Red Bull and perhaps promote Lindblad to F1 (or is that too soon for him, especially with the other seat also being taken by a rookie this year)?!! I don’t even know if they really want to promote Yuki (and honestly at this point I don’t know if that is a good move for Yuki given the state of Red Bull).
I haven’t followed Jack that closely but yeah, there was already talk about his seat before the season even started which is pretty shitty for him.
Just my thoughts though, I could be 100% incorrect about every assumption I have made 😂...at least it gives us something to talk about! Fingers crossed for some kind of magical fix for that Red Bull.
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The interesting case of Barney Barton's name

Let's focus on a bizarre mystery in the Clint Barton universe (even though it's not really a mystery). And no, I'm not talking about why Clint is portrayed as a loser in the latest comics.
I'm talking about the the biggest idiot in Clint's life. His brother, Barney Barton. And based on the title, you can probably guess the topic of focus: about his name, duh.
To be fair, if you're not deeply into his lore or Clint Barton's family lore, you might not think his name is a mystery. You might assume his parents just didn't love him enough and named him Barney. Easy thing, right? Nope. Wrong.
Many people don't know this, and I don't blame them, but this bastard actually has a different name.
Please give a round of applause for: Charles Bernard Barton!
Yes, it's on his tombstone. And I bet he would rather be in his grave right now instead of being alive, but unfortunately, he didn't have much choice <3.
Don't feel bad if you didn't know this; his full name appears once and once only. It was shown in Hawkeye Vol. 3 and never mentioned again.
If you're like me, you probably have many questions. Why was his name mentioned only once? Why is his name Charles Bernard? Why is he ALWAYS called Barney? Why is his nickname based on his middle name instead of his first name? Why isn't he called Charlie or whatever????
Well, I'm going to answer every question you have—or at least I'll try!
We'll break this post into two parts: first, the real reason behind his name (from the author's perspective, but remember this is just my theory) and second, the fun reason I use in my fanon.
I'm dedicating it for @carcrash429 because I promised them Barney posts a long time ago but my depression didn't let me </3 I have more posts in my drafts so I'll public more soon. And for @hawkzeyes because they're my bestie.
Why Did the Authors Hurt Him with This Name?
The answer is quite simple. Barney was never supposed to have a significant role in Clint's story. Let me explain this. He first appeared in Avengers #64 (March, 1969) as a racketeer from the mob.
Look at him, the fancy criminal, with his own crew working for him. Even Egghead, a well-known villain bastard, wanted to work with him. He's a serious deal, guys; Barney must have held a high rank in the mob or whatever. Everything about him screams: a bad guy.
And despite all that, his sole purpose was to reveal Clint's name to us readers. And that's it, it was the only reason for his existence.
So, let's consider this from the author's perspective. We have a character who is a criminal, destined to die for the plot, just because we want to make Clint's name reveal more dramatic. He's suppose to be a bad guy who decided to change his ways before his tragic death, and in some way he serve as the other side of coin trope for Clint. What name should we give him? In this goofy comic with characters who look ridiculous—where even one of the villains is called Egghead—it's no surprise the authors would give him a stereotypical name.
If you don't know it: The name Barney is slang for "an angry argument." According to the Oxford dictionary, it's also defined as "a derogatory term for a man," originally meaning a worthless or contemptible man, but later used to describe an inept, unfashionable, or unattractive man, sometimes implying a loser.
In short: This name carries very bastard vibes.
I'm pretty sure they didn't pay much thought with naming him. They probably chose it quickly because it fits and that's it. And it sounds a bit like a nickname for a mobster (there is a real gangster from one of New York's crime families named Barney so yeah).
Barney remained Barney for a long time because he wasn't meant to be someone important like I said before —just a family member from Clint's backstory who was supposed to reveal Clint's name to us and make Clint angry for the plot.
But then came Hawkeye Vol. 3 where they decided, "Fuck it, let's un-barney your barney". And it turns out Barney isn't a very good name for someone like the Barney we see in Vol. 3. That's why they decided to give him a better name, making him seem more serious and fancy.
And now we have his name on the tombstone, and only on the tombstone. After that, Hawkeye Vol. 3 never refer to him as Charles and Bernard again. Even Barney's friend from the FBI calls him Barney in the letter to Clint for some goddamn reason.
The authors probably simply wanted to show, "Hey! He's a deep character with a serious name. He's more than just a goon from now because we need to give Clint more trauma."
You get that vibe, right? From now, Barney is just a nickname for Charles used by his friends, coworkers and family and that's it. Sounds reasonable, doesn't it? And it should be, however something got very wrong. No one seems to use his real name. Everyone calls him Barney regardless of who they are, even those who should use his real name.
Like, in his freaking MEDICAL CHART in New Avengers (2010), they called him Barney Barton.
It's ridiculous. But why this happened? It's simple The authors simply doesn't know his name.
Those who wrote him later after Hawkeye: Blindspot didn't bother to check his previous appearances (which you can see by how they wrote him). This kind of thing is common in the comics industry. For instance, remember when in Hawkeye Vol. 4 they forgot that Clint was dating Jessica and accidentally made him cheat on her? Funny times.
The only reason Barney appeared in later comics as Trickshot after Hawkwey: Blindspot is because the authors wanted a villainous counterpart to Hawkeye and they didn't pay much attention to his character. They just wanted an evil Clint lmao
Barney's time as Trickshot was a weird chapter in his lore, where he became a very different character than he was before. He just became a loser copy of Hawkeye before the authors eventually forgot about his existence. Then, in Hawkeye Vol. 4, it was suddenly decided to bring Barney back without bothering to explain why he quit his villain work. Why? Because nobody really cares about him; he's just a side character and he was needed for the plot. That's why Barney is the most frustrating character I've ever liked—his personality and motives changes in every new comic. It's INSANE.
But not every author forgets the fact that his real name isn't Barney… though they still don't use his actual name correctly. In some comics with different Earths or in other media, they refer to him as Bernard.
(Secrets of the House of M #1 [Earth-58163])
Why? Perhaps because they want him to sound fancier or more serious. They likely didn't use his first name because those who are not into Hawkeye lore wouldn't know that Barney and Charles are the same person. It's that simple.
Which brings us to another question: WHY IS HIS FIRST NAME CHARLES????
To be fair? I don't know. I wish to know. I've tried to research it, but I've come up empty-handed. Maybe I'm not good in research.
I mean, people tends to have nicknames from their second name but it's still weird. We may never find out why they made him Charles Bernard and not Bernard Charles.
Why Did His Parents Hurt Him with This Name?
Alright, it's time for the fun part of this post: how I imagine the reasons behind his nickname in story-wise. Let's dig in, shall we?
First and foremost, it's important to note that his parents never called him Barney. Perhaps this is because flashbacks always focus on Clint alone. It's Clint Barton's world after all.
Their father referred to Barney as a brat in one issue, but that's the extent of their parents acknowledging Barney lmao.
And the only person in flashbacks from their early childhood who calls Charles by his nickname is Clint. So it's likely that his parents called him by his real name and the nickname came from Clint.
So we can assume it's a childhood nickname that carried into adulthood. But why Barney? You could assume that Clint just called him Barney because it sounds better than Charlie, but I like to complicate things. I have 2 (maybe 3) options I usually explore in my stories (which I've never published because I'm a coward, so you'll never read them).
1. There was a lot of Charles in their neighborhood.
Probably there were many other kids named Charles, and to avoid confusion, they started giving each Charles a nickname (because Charles is popular name, duh — it's #11 in Top Names Over the Last 100 Years). Which is a normal thing tbh. I had another kid with my name in school, and my friends gave me a nickname to avoid mixing us up too.
Maybe Barney's friends started calling him Barney, and Clint picked it up and started using it too.
2. There was another Charles in their family.
I like to write in my stories that he was named after his grandfather from his father's side, and to distinguish between them, they called Charles "Bernard." Clint became so accustomed to "Bernard" that he started calling him Barney. This nickname persisted even after their family stopped exist lmao.
Maybe he also had a cousin with the same name after their grandfather, and that could be another reason why he was called Bernard. I don't know why people name their children after their siblings' kids, but it happens sometimes.
3. BOTH
Do I need to even explain this? I always incorporate both of these headcanons in my stories. It began with family, as he was named after his grandparent so they called him Bernard, then his friends started calling him Barney. Easy story.
I imagine that he was also called Barney in the army/FBI, because there were too many Charles. And that's why his best buddy from Hawkeye Vol.3 calls him this way.
These reasons are also the same reasons why I believe he continues to be Barney and never Charles later in his life.
I'll borrow a bit from the canon, because there's one interesting thing here.
(I think it was from Thunderbolts issues but I don't remember now.)
He probably doesn't like his name. Yeah, I know this panel is probably about his name being Barney and him being bitter about it because it's a stupid name (because authors didn't bother to check older Hawkeye comics again). But I don't care. I'll do whatever I want with this panel and treat it as if he's bitter about his real name lmao.
Why is he bitter? Why doesn't he like his name? You can create any headcanon you want, but mine is simple: he was named after someone in his family, and he hates his family. Maybe this caused him to have a bad relationship with his name. Or his parents were the only one who called him Charles and he hated it because of that. And he would want to disconnect from his past and therefore uses Bernard.
He was called Barney for most of his life, so I think he usually tells people he is Bernard and not Charles. Or "Yeah, I'm Charles, but you can call me Barney". I also think that after the Trickshot fiasco, he changed his name to Bernard Barton (probably not legally because he's still a wanted criminal). And he did it in other universes (like in Earth-58163).
That's it. I hope it wasn't too messy. Remember, it's just my theories and headcanons so you can not agree with me if you want.
#barney barton#clint barton#hawkeye#meta#marvel#it's my first long barney post and i'm so nervous#english is my second language so i'm apologize for errors#my posts
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May I never be this delulu:

Actually William does need to explain himself because he is being PAID by virtue of his birth to be a PUBLIC SERVANT.
Isn’t he the same man who left Charlotte on her birthday to go watch football? And then the wailer cult were making excuses that he doesn’t need to be there for the full birthday, maybe they celebrated earlier or later etc. So football trumps birthdays but a state funeral doesn’t?!
Would love if you shared another round of up tweets and reactions because there’s no way of spinning it that William doesn’t come across as lazy and juvenile here.
It's a little bit harder to find as more people tend to believe the excuses because they don't understand what William's job is.
Sophie attended the funeral of an Italian president in September 2023, when it was really William who should have attended. If Sophie had attended for Charles in that capacity in 2019, people would have critiqued Charles. William wasn't doing anything when Sophie attended that funeral.
But I found a few where people understand that William cannot and will not do his job.


Jimmy Carter was a humanitarian who dedicated his post-presidency to helping others, building homes for those in need, and living a modest life far removed from the pomp of wealth or status. He embodied values that were the complete opposite of what royalty often represents. I highly doubt he would have cared whether any royals attended his funeral.
No official announcement has been made yet; the article is based on the Royal Diary post for Edward - and that itself doesn't yet necessarily mean he will be the only one attending, as William's engagements are notoriously often posted only shortly before the day of the engagement. I think it's absolutely alright if Edward goes alone, though. He is the King's brother and a working royal. To be 'outraged' because someone doesn't consider Edward to be...what, worthy enough? That's just ridiculous.
In essence, Edward did get a promotion when Harry left. Edward and Sofie have a much higher profile and more important duties due to this. It’s how a hierarchy works. By the same token, Harry can go if invited as a private citizen and he won’t be. It cuts both ways.
The security will be up to snuff for this. It's a big deal for the royal family to turn their nose up at not only a former president, but especially THE former president who was least-problematic of existing presidents, and led an incredible life of purpose and service after his term.
Honestly he makes these royals look bad with how dedicated he was to his country when he didn't have to be.
And they can't even get William to go and look young and solemn?
I hope Liz is spinning in her grave.
Actually this is up to the King. The government can suggest a preference but ultimately the king/monarch decides these assignments on behalf of the government. The government requests a royal rep but the monarch decides who. We know royals can and do turn down opportunities or requests, too.
Edward is fine. But this is the sort of opportunity William should be more keen to have as he builds up his own Rolodex and credits as a global ambassador.
Either way, I don’t think the Carter family is all that concerned with which Royal is attending. These sorts of events are onerous for the families to deal with enough.
I would just say this is different because, and not to be too American, but the US is the the UK’s most important ally, the superpower, AND they are desperately trying to butter up to the new admin. Which is also why I do think politics plays a role. If this was a GOP former president it would probably be William because they are the party in power in the US right now.
Carter has been out of power for a bit and a president from the “out” party right now. And as far as I can recall (and I welcome corrections) neither had any stronger than normal relations with the UK or with the BRF overall to consider above political considerations. So sure, why not send Ed and call it a day.
I just think this is the sort of thing William should be doing as prep for being king and building his own profile as a leader. It’s one thing to send Ed to continental royal weddings, but this sort of thing(plus royal weddings) William and Kate (when she is well) should be doing more of now.
Harry was able to make it to the coronation on Archie's birthday.
Diplomacy should come before a birthday.
It's her birthday, one of many.
Hell, she could go with him for a getaway after the funeral. But no.
Yeah, not good on William's part. The PoW has historically attended these events. I understand family is important and it's Catherine's birthday, but he takes so so much time off for his family already (every break the kids have when honestly, he could easily do an event or two when they're off school and not miss any time with them. Tons of parents work full-time and have good, healthy relationships with their kids). Being a royal isn't all about fun events, it's the boring state stuff too.
Actually, there is precedent. Charles attended George HW Bush's funeral in 2018 and they were not close at all - it was a symbol of Britain's ties to the US that they sent such a senior official.
William should absolutely be going to the funeral. This is the sort of thing that Charles did all the time during his decades as PoW. He has nothing on his calendar for next week, and the security will be off the charts with the politicians that will be attending. Work shy William strikes again!
What does William do, he has private planes and the means to go quickly and head back home. He seems to always have an excuse. How long will this go on ? Yes Kate had cancer, she is recovering. If she is permanently disabled tell the public. Cp Mette marit has a chronic life shortening lung disease and her husband CP haakon still travels for work and does his job.
If Katherine and William really are about duty and service, then William can skip part of Katherine's birthday and attend a great statesman president and humanitarian's funeral.
I do not understand how they keep treating him like a 25 year old who is still learning the job, or a man with so many heavy issues/responsibilities that he cant do his very light on work job. He has nannies. He has secretaries and cooks and servants. Kate is well looked after. So like go to funerals of presidents ! It's part of the work. Cut ribbons, fly to random countries for your passion project, attend movie premieres, do events. Why is he so work shy its not a good look.
It has nothing to do with the representative "remembering" the person. These funerals aren't about being heartfelt, it's about the symbolic relationship between countries. If it was Tony Blair's funeral, it would seem odd if the US sent, let's say, Kamala Harris' husband and not someone more senior.
#ask#my gif#court circular#jimmy carter#prince edward#duchess sophie#twitter#reddit#Workshy Will#William The Weak#William The Terrible#William The Prince of OWN GOALS#prince william#William The Prince of Wales
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