#five years later and we still email

[reallooney]

Types of books my old high school English teacher recommends to me: Nietzsche, historical fiction about Cromwell.

Types of books I recommend to him: poetry about being trans, The Secret History.

Do you think he'll like them? Lmaooo

[hkthatgffan]

Hey, Kiki-Kit. Your customers are waiting!

Well, this is a painful post to make given the respect and admiration I had for her, but a long overdue one because I'm not alone in this mess and I refuse to let another fan fall for it when I could've said something!

Back in February, I bought a commission from Kiki-Kit. You may know that artist as she was one of the best in the Gravity Falls fandom back in the day and the illustrator of Don't Dimension It in Lost Legends.

She'd been running emergency commissions at the start of the year and I got one from her for $40 USD.

I have the invoice and everything saved and also messages with Kiki of us talking about the comm and me paying her. I owe nothing on my end money wise! I paid in full.

She said later she'd have them finished by around the end of March but come late April, still no response. So, I messaged her about it. Nothing odd I thought. I get things can happen and if Kiki is busy, at most she'd reply telling me it'll be a while longer and all's good.

But I got nothing. I messaged her, emailed her on the commissions email she had and tweeted at her. NOTHING! Turns out there were other people, including some friends of mine who had not heard back either. Then in June, Kiki made an update post explaining the situation.

Naturally I felt bad and wished her the best. She said iirc, she'd have the remaining comms done by the end of the Summer but here we are at the end of October and still nothing. I messaged her too again and no response.

You know, it's one thing if there's a reason for no response for a few days but then another when it's been months and still nothing. Oh and btw, I very much remember Kiki on Twitter liking tweets (back when Twitter let you see liked tweets) while I was there messaging her for an update. Real sus if you ask me.

But okay, I shouldn't rush it. Everyone has reasons to take time and maybe Kiki is just very busy and can't get back. She went through a very rough and difficult experience and I can understand and respect that. I'm more than happy to wait. But how long is too long without an update? Maybe a bit longer I guess. Art takes time.

Well, IDK about you all, but I don't remember any other Gravity Falls fan artist taking oh, idk...FIVE YEARS TO FINISH A COMMISION AND STILL NOT RESPOND!!

FoxieSkullzArtz on Twitter made me aware she has been waiting since 2019 for Kiki to respond to a commission they paid her for.

2019!!

I'm not an artist, so forgive me if I'm wrong. But I don't think it should take any artist 5 years to make a commission and even if, at least communicate with the person who paid you about it so they're not left guessing.

Oh, and it gets worse. I got another person who let me know they've been waiting since 2020 for a comm and Kiki handled it far worse!

Oh yeah, she blocked them for asking about it!

And okay, even if we give Kiki-Kit the benefit of the doubt and assume she has reasons to not communicate with people and maybe even assume people messaging her are being mean about it, then why not refund them? Nice or bad, you were paid by them to do something but also have the power to deny it and refund their money. And yet, Kiki did not even do that. And even if we be super kind and assume everyone is lying, I'm still here.

I paid Kiki-Kit $40USD for a comm I thought I would get in late March and it's now late October and still nothing. And even if you don't wanna believe me cause you can't believe an artist like Kiki-Kit would do this and assume I'm after clout (which would be odd, given why would I take pleasure in calling out an artist I respected)...well, there's gonna be someone else who says this too. And people have been saying this for years and she still is getting away with it!

It's disappointing honestly. Kiki-Kit is a name so many in this fandom know and love. And I love her art too. She's a fan artist who got to be on Lost Legends. We all celebrated that in 2018 and still remember it. And I know how hard it may be to hear this, but it has to be said.

I do not like having to do this, but I have a platform that can get this message across further than others could and having been someone who lost money to her too, I know first hand what all these people have been through.

And before you say "Kiki was going through a rough time in her life. Why are you blaming her? Be patient and she'll get your stupid art done," read over everything again. I'm not saying Kiki-Kit needs to be making art 24/7 and fulfilling these comms. I'm not saying she isn't allowed to be offline and not finish things on time for reasons out of her control. What I'm saying is that she hasn't communicated properly with anyone here who paid her and has continued to accept more and more commissions from people despite not finishing ones she has backlogs of.

When an artist opens commissions, why do you think they have slots or only accept a few? Because they know they can get that many done in a certain time or know anymore will take longer. And even if it took longer, at least they give updates. I bought a commission for the interview with Alex Hirsch and got it both on time and with proper communication from the artist.

And even if you disagree with all this, be honest with yourself...is making someone wait since 2019 or 2020 for a comm and not responding to them really something still worth defending?

I'm not here to cancel anyone. I don't want Kiki-Kit's reputation to be that of an scammer who stole money from people. But she's painted herself that way to far too many people who have been warning about this for ages but no one either saw or listened to them.

I tried to be nice and messaged Kiki-Kit over and over for an update and she never responded. I had friends who she took money from who similarly have not heard anything back! If you know Kiki directly, tell her to reach out to these people and all the ones she has taken money from and not gotten back to and either refund them or commit to finishing their commissions. Please don't be rude or hostile either though, given despite it all, she is still a person like your or me who deserves a chance to make things right.

I wanna believe Kiki-Kit has just made some negligent mistakes and isn't the best with time management or communication. I mean, I'm not the best either. But I'm not asking people for money for something and then not getting back to them with it. I'm sorry to everyone who is learning about this who saw Kiki in a positive light and I'm sorry also to everyone like me who lost money to her.

I hope if nothing else, Kiki will respond and make whole everyone she has taken money from. If she really cares about this fandom that put her on a pedestal high enough that Alex Hirsch himself picked her to work on his book, she can respond to us and fulfill what we paid her to do.

I'm not asking for my commission to be done tomorrow...I just want an update. That's all. We all do! No more stalling, @kiki-kit. Please respond to us now!

Sincerely,

Every person who has paid you for a commission and has yet to hear back from you and every Gravity Falls fan who your work inspired and are now having to learn this about you!

[kjupchurch-xx]

You're Mine (request on Tumblr for a jealousy filled fic featuring Tom Hiddleston)

WARNING: For those that do not like SMUT, I'm sorry, you can skip this one. This is a request I got on Tumblr and I do honor all requests... within reason, LOL. 

Today was Hugh and I's third anniversary. The last three years have been amazing to say the least. We met five years ago when I'd stumbled into his coffee shop, Laughing Man Cafe, a coffee and tea shop he owned, located in New York. Hugh had stopped in to sign autographs and meet a few fans, I'd stopped in for a coffee, not realizing Hugh Jackman owned it. 

We began dating shortly after, getting married two years later. I'd always been extras in films, but he'd help me kick start my career as being a lead in some smaller films. I was always apprehensive about doing bigger films, so I strayed away from them. Hugh would spend hours going over lines with me to prepare me for various roles over the last few years. I checked my email noticing a script my manager sent over to me. It was a bigger film, of course and I had managed to get the part after a stressful audition. I didn't bother reading the script before auditioning, but I knew it was a rom-com with Tom Hiddleston, who was well known for playing Loki. 

"Holy shit." I mumbled, reading over the script. Hugh looked over at me from the opposite end of the couch, wearing his glasses, "What? Did you get dropped?" He asked concerned. 

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you automatically assume I was dropped from a film?" 

He chuckled, "What's with the 'holy shit' reaction?" He sat his laptop down, scooting beside me to see my phone. 

I took a deep breath, "Uh, well... There's a sex scene with Tom and I." 

He shrugged, "It's just acting, babe. You'll do fine. Sex scenes are fun to film."

I cocked my brow looking at him, "Really?" I asked sarcastically. 

He laughed, shaking his head, "I don't mean it like that. They're awkward. You're wearing these little bags and cover-ups, stimulating sex for hours. It's weird, but the key is to make each other laugh." 

He would know. He's the man that's always down for a good sex scene. 

I continued skimming the email, "Holy fuck! We're filming it at 5." I said mentally face palming as I jumped up to grab normal clothes, rather than the sweats and over sized t-shirt I was wearing. 

Hugh looked at his watch, "Oh fuck, it's 3:45 now. Let's get ready and I'll take you. Tom's a nice dude, you'll be fine, baby." He said as he jumped up to change out of his comfy clothes. 

As we got ready and jetted out of the door of our home in NYC, we flew through traffic and made it to the set with 10 minutes to spare. When we arrived on set, I was greeted by my manager, Tom's manager, Tom and a few of the film crew. 

"Ooooh, she brought Wolverine with her, Tom. You better be careful." one of the cameramen teased. 

Tom chuckled, "I'm always careful." as he made his way to Hugh smiling, "Nice to see you again, Hugh." 

Hugh smiled, "Hey Mate, nice to see you."

The director walked over to us, "Okay Jackman, as much as I love your beautiful ass, you're not in my movie. Get off the set." She teased. 

Hugh laughed, throwing his hands up, walking towards the side of the set, "You knew it would cost too much to book me." he said jokingly. 

Tom and I sat in the middle of the set with the director as she explained the script and how she wanted the intimate scene to take place. "So, we're going to get you two ready for the shot, you'll both be wearing cover-ups, so you won't actually be naked, but you'll appear naked to the audience and to the cameras." We nodded in agreement. "Whenever she comes in, I want you to pin her to the door in a full on make out with second base type thing, but you'll both still be clothed for that scene." 

We nodded, "Alright." we said in unison while going our separate ways to get into our character outfits. After about 30 minutes of changing and fixing our hair, we met back on set. A door separating us. This was my first time doing an intimate scene in a movie. I'd had brief kissing scenes over the years, but nothing to this level. I could feel my anxiety building as I took a deep breath, staring towards the door. 

"And, action!" The director yelled, slamming a marker. 

I grabbed the door, pushing it open to be met with Tom, grabbing me and intensely shoving me against it, pushing his lips onto mine. The kiss was deep, it was messy, there were shots where you see his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Tom wasn't a bad kisser by any means, I will say that. The director decided the scene wasn't her favorite and wanted to re-do it two more times afterwards, wanting Tom to be more aggressive each time we'd kissed. 

I glanced over to Hugh, who was on the sidelines, playing on his phone. I could tell he was getting annoyed, but being the professional he is, not wanting to show it. Tom shook me from my thoughts, "You know, kissing you is pretty fun." He said, winking at me. I chuckled, not wanting to cause issues, but also shaking off the uncomfortable feeling his flirting was giving me. Hugh is typically not a jealous man, but I knew if he overheard the flirting, he'd knock this dude's teeth out and make sure he never did another Marvel movie again. 

On the third shot of the kissing scene, I felt Tom's hand brush slightly across my breast. Not enough for me to really react, but enough for me to know he did it. Not knowing if this was truly a coincidence, I shrugged it off as we went to get ready for the sex scene. I was completely naked, besides a small skin colored cover-up that literally only covered my vagina. Tom was wearing a skin colored bag that hid his dick. 

We wrapped ourselves in robes while we weren't filming to meet the director as she explained how she wanted the sex scene to go and what her expectations were. This was my first big film, and I knew if I wanted to score a good career, I had to sell it regardless of how I was feeling. As we made our way to the bed and stripped our robes, we both laid on the bed, under the comforter. The director wanted Tom on top of me, so he climbed on top of me and looked me dead in the eyes. I couldn't force myself to look over at Hugh, so I blocked him completely out of my brain and continued looking at the guy that was on top of me. 

"And, action!" The director yells, slamming her marker. 

Tom looked down at me, "Is this what you want?" He asks seductively, moving his hips in a motion as if he were positioning himself to enter me, throwing the comforter off of us, revealing our naked bodies. 

I moaned, biting my lip, "I want you." 

Tom stimulated his hips as if he'd slammed into me while I stimulated the scene to make it look as if I were matching his thrusts as both of us moaned. He took one of my nipples in his mouth and began sucking on it while still pretending to thrust into me while I drug my fingernails down his back and cried out his character's name. 

The scene in the movie only showed the sex for about two minutes, before cutting to a scene of both of us cuddled in bed talking about how we couldn't let our spouses find out about what we'd done. 

Tom giggled, "We can't let them know. This needs to be our dirty little secret." 

I smirked, "I know, I know... But you fuck so much better than anyone I've ever been with. He'll be out of town working all week anyways." 

Tom leaned down, kissing my head, holding me, "Do you know how long I've waited to do that? How hard it is being around you two and having to hide how hard my dick gets when you're around me... We're horrible people." He chuckled. 

I rolled my eyes, "What they don't know won't hurt them." I said as I playfully trailed my fingers down his stomach, "I want more..." I said seductively. 

"Cut! That was perfect, guys!" The director exclaimed, running towards us with our robes. 

Filming for the day had ended and I hadn't looked at Hugh in hours. I was too afraid to. I know this is what actors do and he knows good and well how acting in films can be, but something in me felt like this was going to be a disaster. As I put my normal clothes back on and told everyone bye, I noticed Hugh was outside on his phone. He looked pissed.

I walked up behind him, wrapped my arms around him, "I'm finished, baby. Do you want to get dinner?" I asked sweetly. 

He glanced at me, ending the phone and walking to get in the car, "Not hungry." He grunted. 

I opened the door of the car, awkwardly getting in, "We're going home." He said coldly. 

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for his arm, only to have him pull away. 

He kept his eyes focused on the road, "What's wrong, love? You won't even look at me." I said, starting to tear up. 

He scoffed, "What's wrong? You enjoyed that! You were really getting into that wannabe Wolverine motherfucker all over you!" He spat. 

My jaw dropped, "Excuse me? What are you talking about? I was doing my job, Hugh!" 

He laughed annoyingly, "Really? Your job wasn't to look like you were shooting a motherfucking pornography movie. It was to do a two minute sex scene and you took it too fucking far with him. Do you want to fuck him that bad?" 

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he really that jealous by me doing a sex scene in a movie he told me to audition for? 

I shook my head, "What are you talking about right now? I did exactly what the director asked me to do." I said in defense. 

He looked at me, "Really? Do you realize how fucking heartbreaking it is to watch a younger man, closer to your age all over you, sucking on your tits? Then you're both talking about good thing our spouses don't know. You know you were turned on by it. I know you."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever, Hugh. Just get me home before I start walking. I'm seriously about to get out of this car." 

He scoffed again, "Yeah? Go ring Tom, I'm sure he'll pick you up." 

As we got home, he hopped out of the car, making sure he slammed the door and every door inside the house. He was being dramatic. Does seeing me stimulating a fake sex scene with an attractive actor that's younger than him bother him that badly? I'm literally doing what he does with other women, well maybe not that extreme, but does he forget that I have to see him kissing or flirting with other women onscreen in almost every movie or interview he does? I mean shit...Excuse me for just furthering my career. 

As the night went on, he seemed to calm down. I found him playing his piano, looking lost in his own thoughts. I walked towards him, "Are you finally calm?" I asked bluntly, bracing myself for the reaction. 

He shook his head cheekily, "I'm fine. Do you want to have a cuddle in bed?" He asked, smiling at me.  

I nodded, "Of course, love." I said, while grabbing his hand, leading him to our bedroom. 

As we approached the bed, he pushed me down, kissing me aggressively, biting and sucking on my bottom lip as if he were going to literally gnaw it off. "You really think he's better than me, huh?" He mumbled against my lips, causing me to roll my eyes. 

I brushed the comment off and continued the kiss, "Answer me." He growled while pushing his boner into my hips. "No..." I said lowly. "No, what?" He spat back, pushing himself further into my hips. "No baby, I don't." I said, looking up at him. 

"I sat on the side and watched him practically fuck you and touch you for hours. Do you know how fucking bad I wanted to rip his face off for touching my wife?" He asked as yanked my shirt off. "Watching him suck on your perfect tits... You're mine, do you understand that?" He said while pulling my pants off, leaving me in my bra and underwear. 

I nodded, "Yours..." He sat back up pulling his own clothes off as he climbed back on top of me, pulling my panties to the side, shoving his fingers inside me, while sucking on my neck. "This is my pussy." He whispered into my ear as his fingers danced inside me. 

I couldn't help the moan that escaped from my lips, "Oh fuck... Baby, don't stop." I moaned, while reaching for his boxers. "I want you." 

He pulled them down, revealing his hard cock, "You want me? Are you sure you don't want Tom?" He asked, cocking his brow at me as he rubbed my clit. 

I nodded, biting my lip so hard I could taste blood, "You're the only one I want..." I said as I reached for his cock, wrapping my hand around the length. 

"Show me." He said, pulling me on top of him. I slid down his frame, kissing every inch of his torso as I made my way down to his manhood. I felt him place his hand on the back of my head as I took him into my mouth. I sucked hard on the tip while letting my hand work the base as I felt him start roughly thrusting into my mouth as he threw his head back, his moans filling the air. 

"That's a good girl. Show me how much you want my dick." He moaned, as I began bobbing my head quicker taking his rough thrusts deep into the back of my throat. 

This was not like Hugh, but I was loving every minute of it. It almost makes me wish I'd taken more opportunities to push his buttons. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth as he pulled out not wanting to cum just yet. He glanced down at me, motioning for me to get on my knees. 

I did as I was told as I felt him push my panties to the side, entering me. His thrusts were fast and rough, not the sweet, romantic I was used to getting. He slapped my ass hard, "Is this what you wanted?" He grunted, "You wanted this cock, you don't want anyone else's cock, do you?" He gave a deeper thrust, "Answer me or I'll stop and you can go ring Tom instead." He yelled. 

I threw my head back, trying to form words as the feeling of euphoria overtook my body. "Fuck! Don't stop!" I managed to scream between moans, "I only want you." I said, trying to not let myself go this soon. 

He grabbed a handful of my hair, turning my face to look at him, "This is mine. All mine." He moaned. I could tell he was getting close, I could feel him throbbing inside me. "Cum for me, baby. Let me see how good I make you feel." He said while tugging on my hair. 

I let go and exploded on him, literally falling down to the bed as I felt him cum deep inside me. He collapsed beside me, breathless. "Do you feel better now?" I asked him chuckling, sounding a bit amused while trying to catch my breath. 

He chuckled, "I do. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked sweetly. 

There he was... There was my sweet baby. I smiled, "You didn't hurt me in a bad way, if that's what you're asking. Maybe I should make you jealous more often." I joked.

He laughed, pulling me closer to him, "Maybe so, love."  

[endivinity]

I've been diagnosed with ADHD-inattentive! It's clinically mild. It wasn't picked up in childhood because I was a gifted kid who wasn't disruptive or fidgety, or doing otherwise vastly inappropriately-timed behaviour outside of the usual for my age group, and then when it started presenting in later high school years I got the classic 'has potential, just needs to focus. Unfinished projects' in my reports, but because I wasn't fidgety or majorly disruptive it just got sort of sidelined. I fell between the cracks. But I think that's just the done thing, for people like me. Not severe enough to be noticeable, or the symptoms are managed (with a lot of hidden difficulty), or you're not enough of a compelling case (trying to get government assisted work placement failed, back when it was just the sleep disorder) - just mediocre, a mild inconvenience, your strengths prevented from being fully reached because they don't like all the issues of your deficits. which for me is in administrative stuff, as evidenced by never replying to emails :'D And then people sort of wonder why you're not doing everything they think you can. Believe me, we fucking know. We're frustrated too. There's a special kind of grief that comes with that, being left behind because you exist in a middle ground of expectation and disappointment, that I think I have to make peace with as I move forward with this. I'm 31. I've lost nine years to struggling between my degree and now. It wasn't all bad, but it's one of those things where I can't help but wonder how different it could've been if I'd known earlier. So what happens from here? I dunno. I'm being put on a trial run of meds and I have to properly handle my life balance since it's very easy to neglect your health when there are no outside pressures to do otherwise. more than anything I want to finish those five-year-old commissions that are still outstanding. Every time I open the files I get anxious and it really, really fucking sucks for everyone involved. From there, who knows?

[aftercamlann]

ACBB 10th Anniversary Recs: Evil Overlord, Inc.

Our first rec comes from chaosgenes, shana-rosee & paintedpigeon!

Title: Evil Overlord, Inc. Writer: Footloose Artist: mushroomtale Ship(s): Merlin/Arthur Rating: Mature Word Count: 137,922

Summary: Merlin is a recent graduate with a double doctorate in metaphysics and physics. Arthur is a low-level paper pusher with a desk in the sub-basement of MI5. They live in a world with ridiculous laws and restrictions against anyone who might be supernatural in any way, shape, or design.

Merlin has huge debts looming over this head, a few quid left in his bank account, and no job prospects. Arthur is pushing thirty, in a dead-end job with no chances of promotion to fieldwork agent, and is thoroughly bored with his life.

One ill-advised Craigslist advert, five pushy mates, one nosy all-knowing sister, and a hacked email account later, Merlin and Arthur take the world by storm.

(Or, more precisely, they take over the world.)

Link: FIC & ART: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11774844/chapters/26547306

Why chaosgenes recommends this ACBB: Out of the 3-4 ACBBs I've read, this is my fav because it's one of the most unique fics I have ever read and that I still remember even years later. I liked how Arthur and Merlin are older in this one, each facing a career slump, and deciding that the best thing to do is to team-up and threaten their nation. When I recall this fic, it's of Merlin suddenly appearing on the Queen's throne looking every part an intimidating overlord (but we all know he's really sweet at heart and not evil at all). If the word count scares you, at least look at the art as the clothes are stylish and Arthur is in glasses <3 Why shana-rosee recommends this ACBB: When I saw the post asking for Big Bang recs, this was the first fic that came to mind! This story is so funny and charming! Merlin, as the reluctant Overlord, is so funny. I love how the author uses the position to make lasting good in the story. And I love how Arthur worms his way into Evil Inc and Merlin's heart! Why paintedpigeon recommends this ACBB: It's just all-round amazing. Excellent plot, worldbuilding and characterisation, and the writing is amazing. Want to rec an ACBB fic yourself that you feel deserves some more love? Feel free to send us your rec through our 10th Anniversary Rec form!

[chaotic-toasters]

Keep in Touch

If you cried, please let me know. I cried while writing this and now I feel like a wimp

Jen Beattie x Teen!Reader Arsenal WFC x Teen!Reader --------------------

You awoke to the creaking of your bedroom door, followed by the dipping of your bed.

"Hey, kiddo," your mam's voice soft, fingers carding through your hair. "Time to wake up. We've got a big day ahead of us."

You cracked your eyes open, blinking rapidly at the light streaming through your window. "Five more minutes?"

She smiled fondly. "Sorry, kiddo. We've got to finish packing, and then we're gonna meet the girls at Colney one last time before they send us off at the airport."

A few months ago, you and your mam had received almost identical offers from the newest team in the NWSL, Bay FC. Your mam had jumped at the promise of something new, but you'd hesitated.

Arsenal was all you'd ever known. You'd grown up in the academy, winning tournaments left and right before signing your first professional contract for the gunners at fifteen years old.

You had memories of Katie chasing you through the Emirates, practicing pens with Kim, and doing media with Leah. If you left, you wouldn't get to make any more of those memories that were so near and dear to your heart.

It was a difficult decision to make, one that your mam assured you was totally up to you. Any of the girls would take you in in a heartbeat if you wanted to stay.

You hated change, and you hated the position Bay FC's offer put you in. Whether you stayed or left, your life wouldn't be the same.

Stay, and be an ocean away from your mam.

Leave, and abandon everything you'd ever known since you were a wee child.

Stay or leave.

Your mam or your found family.

Pain or pain.

Stay.

Leave.

Stay.

Leave.

Realistically, as much as you dwelled on the decision, the choice was made the second you opened your email.

You could never leave your mam. Your mam who never forced you to do anything you didn't want to. Your mam who always made time for you. Your mam who would stay home from matches or training when you were sick. Your mam who always supported you and loved you.

So, you accepted. You accepted the offer to leave the WSL behind, comforted only by the knowledge that your mam would be right next to you the whole time.

It had hurt to accept the California team's offer, a metaphorical knife to the gut, but your teammates had reminded you that you were still in the early stages of your career and could come back later on. That had brought you some sense of relief, knowing that they would gladly welcome you back if you wanted to return.

But now, on the final day of your life in London, it all came crashing down, and you suddenly did not want to leave.

"O-kayyy," you mumbled, rolling off the bed. "When do we leave? To Colney?"

Your mam extended her hand, pulling you up. "In an hour. Get the rest of your stuff, and we'll have breakfast on the way."

-------------------

"He—oof!" You grunted as someone tackled you into a hug, taking you both to the floor.

"I'm gonna miss you, kiddo," Leah's voice wavered. "So, so much."

You squeezed her tightly. "I'll miss you too, Lee. Who'll make fun of your five year-old diet now?"

Katie joined you on the floor, stealing you from Leah's embrace to pull you into her own. "I will, kid. Don't ye' worry."

Leah wiped away a stray tear. "You remember this, Y/N. Once a gunner, always a gunner. You hear me? You'll always have a place hear at Arsenal."

You smiled sadly as yet another one of your teammates stole you for a hug. "Thanks, Lee. I'm gonna miss you all so, so much."

"She was proper crabbit this mornin'," your mam said with a sad smile of her own. "She cried, yelled at me, cried again, then walked into the door frame because she couldn't see through her tears."

"Maaaam!" You turned red as your teammates laughed. "That didn't happen!"

Kim ruffled your hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. You did that exact thing with a goalpost when you were younger."

You tried unsuccessfully to hold in your laughter. "Kimmy!"

Your mam grinned. "Nothin' I'd rather be doing during my last day as a gunner than making fun of Y/N with you all."

Unfortunately for you, that was all that you and your teammates did for the remainder of your time together. Make fun of you. Oh, to be the baby of the gunners.

-------------------

"I don't want you to leave," Kyra murmured, gripping your shoulders desperately as your flight was called. "You're like... my little sister."

You softened at the uncharacteristically wholesome confession, hugging the Aussie who you'd grown so close to tightly. "Keep in touch, Ky. We'll be sure to visit."

"You promise?" you'd never heard Kyra so vulnerable, not even when Australia had lost to England in the Semifinals and been knocked out of the World Cup.

"I promise. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N."

It was Kim who scooped you up into a hug last, the Scotswoman practically having watched you grown up since your birth. Your second parent in the absence of your father.

"We'll miss you here, kiddo," she whispered in your ear as you tried to hold back tears. It was almost comical, the short Midfielder having to stand on her tippi toes to do so, barely able to reach you even as you leaned down to hear her. "You'd better call or I'm boardin' the nearest fly to San Francisco and takin' you back home."

You patted her on the back before pulling away, averting your eyes before you started bawling. "I will, Kimmy. I will."

As you and your mam boarded the plane, you shoved your fist into your mout to choke back a sob.

Sitting in your seat, the tearful goodbyes of your teammates echoed in your head. They hadn't wanted you to go, and you hadn't entirely wanted go either, torn between two sides, but you'd known this was the right decision. You'd stay with your mam, broadening your horizons and giving yourself more experience.

Staring out the window, you took in the landscape. The English landscape that you'd known your whole life, left behind as you started a new adventure in the United States.

As the plane took off, Leah's voice echoed in your head.

Once a gunner, always a gunner.

[vivwritesfics]

Keep on Rolling - MV1

Chapter Five

Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.

After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?

Right?

1.3K words

Promised QandA in next part

Series Masterlist

"Hey man," Lando said to Max one evening at dinner. It was drivers only, simply because Y/N was too busy working. Everybody wanted her there, but she couldn't spare the time.

Max looked at Lando with a polite smile, too busy eating to say anything.

"You let Y/N interview you?"

He nodded his head, still eating.

"Oh. Well, the rest of us ran away. We didn't trust it not to be a prank," Lando continued. "Why didn't you?"

Max stopped eating to look at him. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"What? No. I just want to know what you're doing with my best friend," answered Lando. This was starting to piss him off. "I don't care what you do, as long as you don't do anything to hurt her."

Max simply scoffed. He didn't have any intentions with Y/N. Whatever happened, happened. If that took them down the romantic route, so be it.

"Don't worry," he said, returning his attention to his food. "I don't plan on hurting her." He ate ignoring Lando and every other driver sat around the table. There was a good few minutes where Lando stared at him, something like disgust written on his face. He didn't mean to be pulling such a face, but he couldn't help it when it came to Y/N

***

Y/N's eyes hurt as she stared at the emails on her screen. "What the fuck," she whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was seeming more and more impossible to find a moment of peace for her.

You need to look at this and give a statement, ASAP, the email said. This is the second time this has happened in the space of a month. How does this keep happening? You need to watch yourself to make sure it doesn't happen again

She read the email a couple of times over before clicking the link.

It was an Instagram post that had gone viral within the F1 community. Pictures of her with the drivers, hidden away in hotel rooms. Moments that nobody but Y/N and the drivers involved should have pictures of.

Her having dinner in Lando's apartment, Y/N and Charles walking through the hallway of a hotel together. There was one occasion where she, Lando and Carlos had snuck up to the roof of the hotel. Somehow that picture was in the post.

The worst one, though? There was a picture of Y/N and Max laying together. It must have been after the drunken quiz video, after they had fallen asleep against each other. It was such an intimate moment, a moment meant for the two of them and nobody else.

They were pictures nobody should have had. Who had taken them? Where had they come from? How did this account have them?

But then Y/N scrolled down to the comments

Username: omg she's such a whore

Username: You'd think this years championship would be interesting since she's sleeping with the whole grid

Username: I've never liked her

Username: She ruined Lando

Username: yeah I liked Carlando better before it involved her

They just went on and on like that. Thousands of them. For every supportive comment, there seemed to be two negative ones. It was horrible. How was she supposed to put out a statement about it.

So, she pulled out her phone and did the only thing she knew to do.

Ten minute later, there was a knock at her door. Y/N wiped her tears and ran to pull it open. "Oh thank god," she said through a sob and wrapped her arms around him.

Lando walked her further into the room and pushed the door shut behind him. “Tell me what happened,” he said and sat her down on her bed. He sat beside her and Y/N instantly placed her head on his shoulder.

"People are horrible," she sniffed as she pulled up the Instagram account.

Taking her phone from her hand, Lando scrolled through the pictures before getting to the comments. As he read them, his grip on Y/N was tight, growing tighter with every horrible comment.

"I've never seen these before," said Lando as he scrolled back up to the pictures. From the way they were taken, they couldn't have been fan pictures - they must have come from someone right there with them.

Lando pressed his finger against the power button and dropped Y/N's phone into his lap. He pulled her close, running his fingers through her hair. "Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this."

There was nothing they could do that night. So Y/N locked the door, double checked the lock and then pushed her bedside table up against it.

Y/N and Lando fell asleep together, spread out across the bed. They'd fallen asleep together several times before. They'd been doing it since they were kids, sharing a bed on sleepovers. It was a habit that hadn't died and had only taken breaks when either of them were dating.

"Promise everything is going to be okay?" Y/N muttered in her sleep as she rolled towards the door.

Lando's answer was a snore.

***

Max was used to his phone blowing up over night. He was a world famous Formula One driver, it was bound to happen. But, when he scrolled through his notifications this time, everything was different.

Pictures, none of which he had seen before. He was in some, but the one thing every picture had in common was Y/N. Max ignored all the pictures that didn't have him in the, all the pictures but the last one. The one of him in bed with her/

Nobody had been in the room with them, Max had made sure of it.

His phone vibrated in his hand. But it wasn't who Max hoped it would be. It wasn't the girl he had been pictured with. It was his father. Jos Verstappen. Just the man Max didn't want to be speaking to.

He swiped his finger across the screen and pressed his phone to his ear.

Have you ever been berated by an angry Dutchman almost to the point of tears. Max had. He'd been berated by his father so many times before. Even now, as a twenty five year old, it still stung just as much as it had when he was a child.

Jos ran through the list of all of the news article headlines he had read that morning. All of them about his son and the youtuber that had been following the grid around like a lost dog.

As much as Max wanted to defend her, Jos didn't give him the chance. He sat there in silence as his dad shouted at him down the phone. When Jos finally hung up, Max let out a sigh.

Suddenly there was a knock at his hotel room door. Now in a foul mood, Max stood and opened up the door.

"Hey," he said, letting his visitor in.

The visitor said nothing and walked into his room. "You need to stay away from Y/N."

Max stared at Lando. He said nothing, just stared, so Lando continued. "Stay away from her. Stop falling asleep with her, stop going near her. She doesn't need you to fuck up her life."

Max sat himself back on his bed and patted his thighs in a repetitive pattern. He'd just gotten enough of this from his father, he didn't need this from Lando, too. "What gives you the right?" he asked. "Why can't she make her own decisions?"

"She doesn't know what she wants," Lando spat.

Max shook his head. "I think you're wrong," he said. "I think she knows what she wants and you're unwilling to listen to her."

Suddenly Lando was very close to him, getting in his face. "Stay the fuck away from her," he growled and marched out of the room.

Taglist (Open): @sticksdoesart @eviethetheatrefreak @eugene-emt-roe @glai1023-blog @mqcherie @itsjustkhaos @chonkybonky @arian-directioner @lazybot @lpab @princessria127 @fangirl125reader @honethatty12 @larastark3107 @urfavouritef1girly @cassiopeiia24 @callsign-scully @lexiecamposv @dl-yum @savagecelery @laneyspaulding19 @formulas-bitch @teenwolf01

[meggannn]

i can't claim this with 100% certainty, or even 95% certainty, but i'm pretty sure i influenced supergiant to update one of their assets in hades 2 to make hades and persephone not double-divorced.

on september 4, i made a post on reddit joking that hades and persephone might have been on the outs in hades 2 based on a small detail in a flashback scene:

in hades 1, we have one pillow on hades's bed; then by the time of the epilogue, persephone has returned to the underworld, so his bed upgraded to two pillows. however, in the hades 2 flashback, it reverted back to one pillow.

of course, they'd likely just reused an asset from the h1 main game for the h2 flashback. but having two pillows on the bed was such a nice detail from the epilogue, i hoped they might update it; persephone is after all standing just outside the door in the grand hall in this flashback, and so we know she's not on mount olympus this time of year.

i did not, however, actually submit this as formal feedback in sgg's discord or via email. it was such a small thing i didn't really think it was worth a fuss and i figured they'd be busy with their big update, so maybe i'd send it later if at all.

on october 16 (six weeks later), the olympic update released, and something caught my eye in the patch notes:

Adjusted small visual continuity details in the Hades Flashback* (*Change inspired by community feedback)

i read that and thought, could it be...?

i hadn't seen anyone online talk about what that note could be, so i started a new save to get to the bottom of this mystery. five hours later, i reached the flashback scene again—and i'm happy to announce persephone's pillow has been added back to the bed! their marriage has been (re?)restored and true love wins!

of course, i don't really know if anyone else submitted this feedback so i can't, and won't, claim credit with full confidence or anything. i just made a reddit post that got a semi-decent amount of traction. but i do highly suspect now they are lurkers in their communities online and they really do read every bit of feedback.

(there's still no helping hades's giant sweat stain...)

[ohbo-ohno]

I love your work!! Congrats on 1k followers- your fics are amazing💙💙 May I request ‘country house’ and ‘something isn’t right about (setting). Something is off.’ ? Maybe with Price x reader please? (-:

1k game here - no more please!

i have an unreasonably difficult time thinking of a "something's off" for these prompts. but we write on nonetheless!

1.1k of price being your young daughter's "imaginary" friend. fair warning, this one doesn't have an actual price appearance, it's mostly just vibes. (cw for implied stalking/haunting, no smut!)

The big country house is your dream home.

It had come when you most needed it - your sister had finally gotten tired of letting you and your five year old couch surf and kicked you out with no warning, leaving you with only your car to live in and no prospects.

You'd been driving through a tiny town, only even heard about the house because of a kind waitress who took pity on you when you told her about your situation. She introduced you to her younger sister, a local realtor who'd recently marked down a nice family home to practically nothing because she couldn't get it to sell.

It had seemed too good to be true, honestly. The house is a grand thing - two stories, a wraparound porch, relatively new appliances. The price you paid - you negotiated down - was practically pennies.

But you don't have the privilege of questioning your blessings with a little one relying on you. So you tell yourself that this is just good karma, and you get yourself moved into the home as quickly as possible.

It's weeks later, from that same waitress, that you learn why the house was so cheap. Apparently a local man had been murdered there only a few months ago - a robbery gone wrong, if your source is to be believed, and an apparently very violent death for the poor man living there alone.

It certainly changes the way you feel in the house, knowing that something so horrible happened less than a year ago. The house still feels the same, but you look at it with the knowledge of who might've been there before.

You're... well, you're very lonely these days. You work long hours at home, holed up in your home office, responding to emails and sitting on calls all day. You only really leave to drop off your daughter and to pick her up, or if she wants to go somewhere in the city. If it were up to you, you'd never leave your new property.

And the house isn't small - you've never lived in a multiple story house, let alone one with no one else there. You can never fully shake the paranoia that someone else could be in the house with you, and you'd never know.

You remind yourself that you need to get a dog as soon as you can afford one, and try to wipe the nervousness from your mind.

When summer hits, you and your daughter spend most of your days at home. The house came with quite a bit of land, more than enough for a little five year old to amuse herself with on a nice summer day. You find that you enjoy sitting on the back porch with a cool drink and a book, keeping one eye on the story and another on your daughter while she plays with her dolls.

She doesn't have many friends. You'd worry, but she's always been a happy girl, and she doesn't seem to have any sort of social issues. You don't have the money to get her to a doctor, so you comfort yourself with the idea that she's just a shy child.

So you spend your summer, just the two of you. You spend an almost regrettable amount of time in your office with the door open so you can hear if something goes wrong, but you watch the small nest-egg grow in your bank account, and you tell yourself you'll make it up to your little girl by spoiling her later.

You only start to grow truly concerned about midway through the summer, when your daughter comes to you and tells you about an imaginary friend.

"John says we should play outside today," she says over breakfast one morning, casual as can be between mouthfuls of pancake.

"What's that, honey?" You ask, only half paying attention as you mix another batch.

"John wants to go outside. He's says it's a nice day. He doesn't like that you stay inside so much."

That makes you pause, turning to look over at your daughter. She's never known a John in her life. You have no idea where this is coming from.

"Who's John, sweetheart?"

"My friend," she replies, swinging her legs above the floor, happy as can be. "He was here first. We play together when you're workin'."

You blink at her a little dumbly. You know, logically, that John must be an imaginary friend - someone her little five year old mind has conjured in all her hours alone in the big house. But still, your simmering paranoia about there being someone else in the house spikes.

"Have I ever met John, honey?"

"Nuh-uh," she giggles a little, looking at you with an expression that says silly mommy. "John's not really there, mommy. That's why I gotta take everything outside."

You nod a little, your worry assuaged. It's just an imaginary friend - a perfectly normal kid thing.

"Well," you hum, turning to the skillet to start on your own pancakes. "I wouldn't mind working on the porch today, baby. You and John can play outside all you want."

It should be just that. It is just that.

Except... the idea of an imaginary friend eats at you.

As the pieces start connecting you tell yourself that you've spent too much time alone in this big old house. You tell yourself you need to get out, to find communities for both you and your baby to get involved with.

But the dots still connect.

You think of all the times you've heard your daughter start crying in the middle of the night, only for her to be giggling by the time you get to her room. You think of the night you were sure you left the stove on (you'd planned to make brownies, but gotten distracted while the oven preheated) only to find it completely turned off when you rushed downstars.

You think of the full conversations your sweet baby girl tells about John. She tells you he's tall, with a big beard, and a funny hat. She says he's got a nice voice and soft hands. She says he tells her bedtime stories, and that he has a funny accent.

You sit on the porch one night, and the back door opens behind you. Instead of the sound of small feet pattering towards you, there's silence. The door closes another moment later.

Your daughter tells you that John thinks you should spend more time with them - not her, with them.

The bed is made one day when you're sure you hadn't bothered in the morning. You'd been overwhelmed with work, had been too stressed to bother tucking in your comforter. When you go to bed that night, it's perfectly made with almost military precision.

You watch from the porch as your daughter giggles with her doll, dancing the little toy through the air and talking to nothing. You blow a cool breath over your mug, and tell yourself there's nothing there.

That night, there's a spot of warmth in your bed when you lay down to sleep.

[feathered-serpents]

Oh yeah with Good Omens coming out next week. Shout out to when my dad got me a first edition copy of Good Omens before I went to the “Evening with Neil Gaiman” live reading and I said “man I wish I could get him to sign it” and my dad said “ask if he’ll sign it at the show” and I told him “Dad it’s not that kind of show, he’s not gonna do signings”

And so my father, who worked with touring bands for years, said “See if you can find a way to contact the production and tell them what you want signed. If you don’t sound like an axe murder they might do it. We would at least”

So, believing 100% it would not work, I found his fanmail email and emailed him

And then less than 24 hours later I got this response

And flash forward about five months…

To this day. It still makes me unbelievably happy

[meandhisjohn]

News from a crazy mind...

Sherlock, mental health and the support from a fandom.

When Sherlock becomes what the doctor ordered....

100 days lie between those moments.

100 days since I wanted to die.

100 days since I emailed Dignitas.

100 days full of struggle and hope.

100 days later I made it out of hell again.

A handful of people who showed me unconditional love during the hardest setback of my disorder career.

I will love them till the day I die.

And once again the Sherlock world saved my soul before I destroyed it myself.

A fandom full of kindness and support and a detective and a doctor who saved me in more ways than they can ever imagine.

Had a doctors appointment on Friday and I have one hell of a doctor.

Not as good as John Watson but highly supportive of anything that increases my strength.

We talked about a little miracle.

A miracle that sounds so incredibly stupid but it is such a huge thing.

For the past five years I have to take besides my regular medication in mornings and in the evenings a little extra cocktail of meds in the afternoon to keep my extreme nervousness in check.

I'm nervous and tense 24/7 and it takes a toll on my body sometimes.

It makes it very hard to sleep and to find a way to sit still.

So the extra meds are necessary..

Ten days ago I started to listen to Podfics and quickly discovered a new way to enjoy the Sherlock universe.

I'm 43 years old and retired since I was 39 because my body couldn't take the stress anymore.

I have some free times during the day and I made it a habit for the past ten days to listen to Podfics in the afternoon and again at night.

And suddenly I could sleep and, and here comes the miracle..

I forgot to take my afternoon meds.

Even more my body relaxed in a way I haven't experienced in decades.

My body was obviously as surprised as I am because since a few days I have to drink a coffee in the afternoon, otherwise I would fall asleep.

I can only drink coffee without caffeine which tastes awful but otherwise my nervousness goes through the roof and I shake like a leaf.

But now instead of taking an extra dose of anxiety relief pills I take a real good old black coffee full of caffeine after listening to Podfics.

And that sounds incredibly ridiculous but for me it is a miracle because for the first time in over 15 years I feel calm and not because of a chemical reaction but because of a human reaction.

I know @totallysilvergirl had no idea what would happen by telling me about Podfics but I will never forget it!

Back to my incredible doctor who saw the change from a person who was determined to end this endless circle of depression and anxiety to a person who smiles again.

Now he ordered a six months try of daily Podfics ( no joke) to see if my blood levels improves and accordingly my medication can be reduced.

He knows that in the past three years my disorder was always better during my Sherlock highs so he is actually happy about the new development.

Long story short ( too late I know)

Do whatever feels right for you!

Invent your own therapy!

Do what makes you happy no matter how unconventional it might be.

Because you matter!!!!

I attach you my new and exciting Podfic collection for you.

Maybe you will find something you like.

Of course everything is available in Reading form as well.

Be happy in your own, weird, wonderful way.

@keirgreeneyes @discordantwords @a-victorian-girl @bewitched-bullet @lisbeth-kk @whatnext2020 @inevitably-johnlocked @barachiki @babaybo @jobooksncoffee @rey-jake-therapist @missdeliadili @helloliriels @podfixx @johnlocky @johnlockpodficclub @johnlockficclub @peanitbear @strawberrywinter4 @chocolate1elise @kettykika78

[copperbadge]

What do you mean by digital cleaning?

It's something I've been working on more this year because I had a bit more travel than usual so couldn't do actual home cleaning, but I always take a couple of days in the Month Of Cleaning where I'm focused on my digital life. It's good to make your physical home a comfortable place for yourself, but it's also good to recognize that we have "digital" homes that need attention. And often this is at least less physically demanding, so it's good to keep it in your back pocket for days when you're mentally okay but physically too tired or sore to do more of that kind of work.

In the shortest possible terms, digital cleaning is just making sure that your phone, computer, socials, and other digital "presences" are organized in a way that you find helpful, and that you take a moment to either answer those messages you've been putting off or give yourself amnesty on doing so.

This tends to make a lot of people extremely anxious in a way ordinary physical space cleaning doesn't, so I'm going to put the rest of it behind a cut...

So when I say digital cleaning, I refer to stuff like going through my likes on Tumblr and clearing them out, going through my drafts and turning them into queued posts, answering my asks. I spend time in my email inboxes, either responding to messages or removing them. I am not an "inbox zero" kind of guy, but I like to keep the read-but-not-answered messages to a minimum, and towards the end of the year that usually means a clear-out and amnesty. I clean my Google Drive -- delete old files I uploaded for others, move documents I'm no longer using into an archive, move documents I want to work on into a central work folder. I go through my catch-all folder on my hard drive and organize it; I sort through the year's photos and organize those, partly to archive them and partly because I make a scrapbook from them each year. I don't usually have a ton of tabs open but often have more than I'd like, so I go through them all and either read, bookmark, or get rid of them.

I look in my phone's file tree to make sure I delete files I don't need (mostly menu downloads, Restaurants Stop Making Your Menus PDFs Challenge 2K24) and I sometimes go through each app on my phone, make sure I still use it, and make sure it's set how I want it. If this sounds like a nightmare, bear in mind that I very rarely put apps on my phone to start with -- I think my mother has more apps open at any given time than I have apps on my phone ever.

Everywhere I clean, I look for files named things like "notes" or "deal with" or "random" and move them all into one place so that whatever is in them, I can sort through it and make sure it goes somewhere permanent. Logins go in the login/password spreadsheet I keep, addresses go into my contacts, story notes go into a "fiction scraps" file, random thoughts either get moved into a journal file or put into drafts to become Tumblr posts, etc.

If this sounds like I might have some kind of compulsion disorder, I get that; when I explain my digital hygiene systems a lot of people look at me like I'm spouting a mad but harmless conspiracy theory. But it's something I used to have to do periodically even before I created National Clean Your Home Month, because otherwise I could never find anything, and everything was just...harder. As I once told a boss who admired my organizational skills, "It was this or endless chaos."

Putting addresses into my contacts list means I always know that the addresses I have for my friends are up to date. Putting logins into a spreadsheet means that five minutes spent now will not result in five weeks of procrastination later because I can't find the login and can't do anything else until I do that. Going through my email and archiving old conversations means not only can I find them easily when needed, I don't have to look at them the rest of the time. Sometimes I even go through my various wish lists and remove old/purchased items, or clear out all my "save for later" carts.

There's no doubt this is stressful, but like every part of NaClYoHo, it's broken down into smaller tasks; I don't have to look at my computer and organize everything on it all in one day. I can answer a few asks, then sort photos (something I find very soothing up until the moment I Don't), then read and delete some emails, then I'm done for the day. I can spread "answer or file all your work emails" out over a couple of days. I can maybe empty out my Likes but just turn the ones I actually want to reblog into drafts for now and deal with them later in the "drafts" phase of cleaning. And if I don't manage to empty out my inboxes, at least they're emptier than they were.

I'm struggling this morning with having put a bunch of physical cleaning on the to-do list but not feeling physically up for it, so I did what I felt capable of doing (measuring cabinets for new shelf liners mainly) and later today I might sit down and start building this year's photobook. Or not -- I have to code Radio Free Monday, sort out a prescription and possibly go pick it up, plus a very full day of work and a couple of afternoon appointments I can't shirk, so today may simply be a "get through the day" kind of day. That's okay too; some days the spirit is willing but the schedule is full.

[unicorncornflakes]

Summer Isles - Modern!Aemond x Reader | Chapter 1

Next Chapter

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After two years in the Summer Isles, Aemond returns from his international stay during his doctorate ready to be with the girl he left Westeros for.

Tags:  Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: Not at this moment, maybe later :P This is the best I can write these days, sorry :(

General Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know):  @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @hiddencurator

Author´s note:  Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 3.5K

The sunlight had disappeared two hours ago. From the large window of the office, you could see how the yellow lights of the streetlights illuminated the deserted streets of that old industrial estate. Normally, at that time, there would be a multitude of operators and porters working in the warehouses that surrounded the modern, newly built building in which you worked. But, that autumn afternoon there was not a single soul. From the second floor of that building that broke the skyline of the place, you could see a paper bag rolling alone along the sidewalk.

You sighed, trying to gather strength for the next email you had to answer. You always sat next to the window, as if that could cheer you up during the at least eight hours you spent at work. The head of the service, in a show of trust and invented friendship with you, always placed you in the last shift of that customer service of the large multinational for which you worked. Although it may sound strange, it was the simplest and most complicated shift at the same time. Few clients with very big problems. Brilliant.

A new email popped up on the screen and you sighed right after replying to the last one. You grabbed the back of your head and closed your eyes, tired. Well, it could be worse, you thought, you might have to take a call. That thought crossed your mind when you saw your colleague Cristof closing his eyes tiredly while he explained for the last half hour to a client that the delay of her wedding dress was a problem of the transport company, that a claim had been opened and that we would try to give her a solution first thing tomorrow morning, not then, in the last shift.

“This is an idiot,” Cristof turned on mute just to talk to you and make you smile. You frowned and shook your head at him as he laughed again. "Yeah. Of course, I'm still here and I understand your situation perfectly, right now there is a team of five people working to get your dress to you first thing tomorrow morning, Mrs. Thyrosh” he completely changed the tone he had used with you, showing the best side of the service. That's what your job was about, showing your best possible face, or rather, your best possible voice.

“Is Aegon finally coming to look for you today?” Irmis, sitting right next to you, was also typing quickly to answer a customer who had decided at the last minute to change his expensive order for shoes from a famous brand. When they had offered you that job at a prestigious clothing brand, you never thought it would be like this. Five years in design school practically thrown away.

You shook your head as you looked ahead, ready to respond to that email. “No, he can't. You can see the fireworks from his house and he has organized a party with his friends to watch them from there” you responded completely naturally, although it had really hurt you that he didn't come for you on the same day that the local festivals were inaugurated. That was the same reason why not a single soul could be seen in that place. All private businesses closed earlier so that people could attend with their friends and family at the beginning of something that marked the beginning of autumn in a city as small as the one you lived in, but you work for a multinational. That small group of five people must have closed the shift. You were all unmarried or single. People who, according to the head of service, nothing happened if they did not attend the event. After all, what did it matter if you were missing? You sighed as you read what the last client who had written to you wanted. “I'll take the bus and I'll be there in an hour,” you explained to Irmis while she kept her eyes on the screen.

“If you want, I can take you” Roy stuck his head out of the cubicle that was right in front of you. With his headphones on and the smile he always had when he saw you, he continually offered to take you home or to Aegon's house.

"No. Don't worry, I'll go on the bus” you smiled at him with your best smile and as always Roy returned to his seat calling himself stupid. The truth was that you didn't like him taking you home. You knew he had a slight crush on you. Whenever you argued with Aegon, he was always there to listen to you and bring up all the many bad things Aegon had as a partner. You didn't want to raise his hopes. Aegon wasn't perfect, but he was the one you had chosen to be with, right?

“Well, it's cold today to be waiting for the bus.” Marga turned around in her chair right behind you. She was much older, a woman who had dedicated her entire life to customer service. She never said anything, but you knew she didn't like Aegon for you.

No one seemed to like Aegon as your partner. The five of you always closed the service, so you had ended up being a family, in which everyone knew everything about the other. You were grateful to have companions like that, but you didn't like that they interfered so much in your life.

Your cell phone vibrated. At that time, none of the bosses were still in the office, so you looked at him without any qualms. You couldn't help but smile while the others commented on whether or not it was advisable to wait in the autumn cold for the bus.

You saw Aegon at the party, being silly as always. He had sent you a photo in which he said that they were waiting for you. You continued typing and answering emails until the departure time was given. You grabbed your shoulder bag ready to leave that place for a whole weekend. You always loved Fridays. They meant not having to put up with one more customer.

“Let's go have something to drink tomorrow?” Cristof asked as you passed the security cards to exit the building. All dressed in your jackets to avoid the cold, you waited for him to close the door. It was your obligation to close the building as you were the last to leave it.

"Impossible. I have to take socks to the vet,” Marga answered.

“It's not going to take you all day.” Cristof narrowed his eyes in amusement while Roy laughed right behind him.

“Y/N?” He asked you, almost hoping that you would say yes. You were a motley group that would never have gotten together if it hadn't been for that job.

“I can’t,” you laughed, not wanting to explain much more. Really, you couldn't and you didn't want to. You were especially excited about what was going to happen the next day. Seeing the look on Roy's face, you repeated again, “Not really. “Aegon’s brother is returning from a stay in the Summer Islands and we are all meeting up for lunch” you responded happily.

Aemond had always been your best friend. You hadn't seen him for two years, almost a little after you started dating Aegon. He had gotten a scholarship to do an international stay during his doctorate and he had accepted it without a second thought, without looking back. You couldn't help but miss him, but you were happy for him. That's what was going through your head, it wasn't as if... you had always been friends, since high school. He had never hinted at anything and neither have you.

“Is that the one who is missing one eye, has long hair and is always smoking?” Marga asked, shrugging her shoulders.

“Marga, don't be rude,” Irmi reprimanded him when she saw the same sad and confused face that you had made, as if it had been a low blow to define him as the guy who was missing an eye.

“If there is one like him there,” the woman said while pointing with her head, right behind you. You turned around while your heart was going a mile an hour, while you didn't think that her words could be true, but you felt like your world stopped, right at the sight of him.

He was there.

Aemond Targaryen.

After two fucking years, he was just there. Leaning against his car, the same one you had seen during those two years parked at the family residence. He was just blowing out the smoke from the last puff he had just taken. Always dressed in black, from head to toe. His black leather jacket, his turtleneck sweater of the same color. Aemond had never been one to change his style, but you could see how in those two years he had stopped wearing his tall military boots and was now wearing black shoes that cost the same as your entire month's salary. A very expensive and new rolex on his wrist… otherwise it was him. It was just him.

Your companions stayed behind you as you ran to hug him. You couldn't see it, but the corners of Aemond's lips curled into a smile. The smile that his always stoic face had wanted to give you but had never dared. “See you on Monday,” you heard one of your workmates say while the others said goodbye to each other, but you didn't care. He was there. He was there.

“But, what are you doing here?” You smiled at him sincerely, because in those two years not a single day had passed in which you hadn't missed him. He was your best friend. It always had been. “You were arriving tomorrow. You were arriving tomorrow” that stupid smile did not leave your lips. Your hands patted his chest affectionately and he smiled. His single purple eye fixed on yours.

“The flight was early,” he lied. Aemond had never heard of a flight coming forward. Just that they were late, but he had taken the first one that was available. A feeling of indescribable warmth filled his heart, as nothing had filled it for two years. You punched him in the chest again as you hugged him again. Aemond could feel you close your eyes snuggled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. His aroma of coffee and cigarettes mixed with that perfume he always wore filled your nostrils, bringing back memories of a time that had undoubtedly been better than the one you were living in then.

“Yes, but what are you doing here?” You laughed again.

“Waiting for you to come out,” he shrugged with a smile you had rarely seen on his face. A truly genuine smile. “I arrived at Aegon's house and you weren't there. Helaena told me you were still at work” he sighed “So, do you work here?” He asked with a shrug, looking at the spot where you had ended up. He would never be the one to say it out loud, but you didn't deserve more. You had studied for much, much more. However, it was the job you had decided to have. Aegon had gotten you the job. All his influences had reached that place and you had accepted it gratefully because you needed the money, not for anything else.

“Have you come to look for me?” you asked in disbelief, ignoring his question. In two and a half years of their relationship, Aegon had not gone a single day. In truth, you had always fantasized about him coming for you. Up in his car, sunglasses on and ready to take you anywhere you want. However, it had never happened and you had told yourself that it was simply because he was tired from work, or that it didn't matter... or that you didn't deserve it... But, Aemond had gone. He was there, like you had always dreamed that your boyfriend would do.

“You wouldn't make it in time to see the fireworks if I wasn't here,” he said, trying to make light of the matter. He opened the passenger seat door in an almost theatrical manner and you got in. Just as he closed the door he told himself that this was going to be the big night. He needed to do it. He had been needing it for two and a half years. Since the same day he had taken that flight to a foreign university that had little or nothing to do with his field of study.

“It's not something that fascinates me either,” you sighed, exhausted and tired after such a long day. You fastened the seat belt and Aemond opened the driver's door, just after he had nervously stubbed his cigarette against the sidewalk. Frankly, fireworks didn't fascinate you. They had never done it. As a child you had been terrified by the roar that stirred in your chest every time one exploded. As an adult you had been bored by the always repeated pattern of the same in that small town near the landing that had so little to offer.

“I brought you something,” Aemond smiled. You weren't used to seeing him smile so much. Those two years away from home, away from everything he knew, must have been good for him. He took out two small packages that he placed on your lap. “Open it, please,” he finished as he watched your eyes light up. In the middle of that industrial estate, was that the best place he had found to give you his gifts? He martyred himself. Nothing was going as he had planned, but he had also imagined you in a completely different scenario.

“You shouldn't have bothered,” you replied. You chose the smallest of the packages first and opened it delicately. Aemond heard you laugh as he started the car engine. His face showed a grimace of relief. At least He was still thanking you for those nonsense. “How did you remember?” you laughed as you held up the fridge magnet he had brought you.

“I remembered the refrigerator at your parents' house,” he lied. He just remembered how you were always amazed at the refrigerator in his family's house. Full of the magnets of the places they had traveled to. Aemond knew you never spoke it but you had always been envious of those who could really travel. As far as your best friend knew, you had never left the small town where you lived, except on the occasional occasion to see or visit King's Landing. “I guess you can put it in your new refrigerator” he tried to smile, but it didn't come naturally. He didn't dare look at you. He had seen Aegon's new apartment before he came to find you. He had imagined which side of the huge bed in the bedroom you would lie on, how you would cook dinner with his brother while you smiled at him and he did something stupid... he had imagined how you would make love anywhere in it... without any ties... and then he had died of jealousy.

“What refrigerator?” You asked, completely confused, and he simply looked away from the road for a moment, as if hope was returning to his gaze again.

“The one in the kitchen of your new house?” Aemond wanted to affirm, but it all came out simply as a question.

“Oh, that.” You said pursing your lips in an embarrassed manner. “Aegon is going to become independent, but he hasn't told me anything about living together so…” you looked ahead. You didn't want anyone to see the pain that situation caused you. Your boyfriend had bought the apartment of his dreams, but you had not entered into the equation for a single moment. You had thought that the topic of living together would come up during the renovation, then you had imagined it would happen while you were helping him choose the furniture and then you had expected it during the first night that you had dined there alone, the two of you. He hadn't shown up and you had simply closed the topic with a sheepish smile every time someone asked you about it. Because you, like the others, knew that the normal thing would have been for you to go live with him. You could have told her, but saying things was never in the plans of a girl who was too shy and complacent.

Aemond ignored the comment. He thought it was best not to pick at the wound, but he couldn't help but smile with satisfaction. So you and Aegon were not as well off as he had assumed. At that moment, a small part of himself hated himself strongly. What kind of friend was happy because things weren't right between you and his brother? Well, he was the kind of friend who had had a crush on you since high school, the kind of friend who had taken the scholarship that took him as far away as possible from the girl he liked and who had decided to date his lazy older brother, the kind of friend who hadn't texted you in two years under the guise of being busy but had sought you out in every woman he'd ever been with. He was that kind of friend.

“I'll put it on the blackboard at the job” you smiled, trying to recover from that blow. “I have a whiteboard full of notes in the cubby and I always have problems with magnets,” you smiled. Always grateful. How could someone like Aegon take down a girl like that? You opened the shoulder bag and put the magnet inside, but not before wrapping it so it wouldn't break.

“There is another one,” Aemond told you without giving it importance. However, he was dying of shame. That gift did make him feel indescribable. He didn't know what he had been thinking while choosing such a gift. It had been a simple impulse at a summer night market. While he was drunk, more than he had ever been in his entire life. He was lying. In those moments he was lying. Of course he knew why he had taken it. It was for you. At that time he had only thought about spending a couple of months clarifying his ideas on the island. He had only dragged it out because he didn't dare come back and see you and Aegon. It was beyond his strength.

He heard a small gasp just as he finished listening to you open the other small package. He smiled while not taking his eyes off the road. “Aemond, it's beautiful,” you replied in a sigh. A blue beaded necklace rested on your lap. All blue. Sapphire blues, just the way he liked them, but there was something about the patterns on the necklace that made your heart sing. That was what you always liked about traveling, bringing things from the place. Not just a souvenir, this was much more, much more than Aemond would ever confess to you. It was everything that the woman who had sold it to him had explained to him.

“I'm glad you like it” he finally stopped the car. He had found parking in front of Aegon's house. He had already reached his final goal. Now he would start pretending that he was happy for you, for his brother, for your relationship...

“How does it look on me?” You woke him up from his thoughts, you had just put on the necklace with a smile and your eyes looked at him lit up while you smiled, a wide, perfect smile.

Aemond could not speak. He was only able to swallow saliva. His single eye scrutinized you silently. You were beautiful. You had worn his necklace. His necklace. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, almost as if he were going to destroy it. His knuckles white. His fists tense. He looked at your lips. He was going to kiss them. He had had that one thought every night for two years. He was thinking of bowing. Close his eye and savor you...

Someone banged on the window of his car, breaking him out of his own fantasy. His sister Helaena and his boyfriend, Cregan Stark, were both out. “Heyyy” Helaena greeted, completely happy and excited to see her brother. Aemond watched you unbuckle your seatbelt excitedly and you got out of the car. He did it too, although in a much worse way. He closed the door rudely and Cregan looked at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly while you greeted Helaena. Aemond knew what his sister's boyfriend thought. There the boy with anger problems from high school came to light. Aemond already controlled any attack like that, but the memory of everyone who had experienced it was still very present among them.

“Aem,” his sister greeted him again, as if she had not seen him in those two years when she had been the only one along with her mother who had visited him on the summer islands. Furthermore, he had already seen him when he got off the plane and he was the one who had taken him to the family home after the trip. A small part of Aemond hated his sister's meddling.

“It looks like she hasn’t seen you in decades,” Cregan laughed and Aemond released his sister from his neck. Cregan shook his girlfriend's hand and you remained in the discreet background. At that moment, Aemond also wanted to hold your hand, intertwine his fingers with yours as you headed to watch the fireworks. But, you weren't his girl, you were Aegon's girl.

The four of you walked to the portal of that luxury building in the middle of the city. Helaena kept asking Aemond about his trip, but he couldn't help but glance at how now all your attention had returned to your mobile phone. You half-heartedly checked your social networks. You didn't seem very excited about the prospect of seeing the fireworks. In reality, you were too tired during the day and having to share the end of it with Aegon's friends you couldn't stand didn't help the outlook.

“My God, that's me” you laughed half-heartedly when you saw yourself in the elevator mirror as you went up to the 20th floor of that luxury building. The last one, from where you could see the entire city and where Aegon now had his new dream apartment, in which you were not going to live.

“It's normal that you are tired. I don't know how you put up with that job” Helaena commented while Cregan nodded his head. “I don't know what Aegon thinks letting you stay in a place like this,” your boyfriend's sister shrugged her shoulders. “He has enough money to support you both and a good job…” he began without any malice, but then Cregan whispered in his ear.

“Hel, we've already talked about this a thousand times,” her boyfriend commented, a whisper that you barely heard, but that set off all of Aemond's alarms. He also wouldn't have let you be in a job that was obviously destroying you, not with all the money they enjoyed. He would take care of you. That's what was said...

“I just prefer to be financially independent,” you smiled again, in a polite manner. You didn't want Aegon to pay for any of your whims. Absolutely none, but it was true that the Targaryens had always seen it differently. Helaena had stopped working the same day she had gone to live with Cregan and their mother, Alicent, you doubted that she had ever worked in something other than taking care of her children. They were traditional. Everyone had very marked gender roles and… that's why everyone had expected that you and Aegon would have lived together, but that wasn't the case. Sometimes you thought about whether you and Aegon had some kind of...future.

“You're beautiful,” Aemond whispered in your ear and you smiled at him again. Helaena looked at you out of the corner of her eye. It was obvious that you were dating the wrong Targaryen. But, Aemond had never been brave enough to confess in all those years during high school, not even during university... the elevator finally stopped, but Aemond continued with his only eye fixed on you. You laughed as the door opened and you walked away from him, but that grimace with his lips half open and a mischievous smile showed Helaena that Aemond had not returned with the intention of just being your friend.

You were the one who pressed the bell, waiting for Aegon to open the door, and Helaena watched as Aemond stood right behind you, placing his hand on your lower back, in a protective movement. You didn't say anything. You were always too polite, but you weren't single. When you and Aemond had been in high school you hadn't minded gestures like that, in college neither, you had even appreciated them, but... now you were with Aegon.

Aegon opened the door, as always with a drink in his hand, inside you could already see a large crowd of people that Aegon called friends and the noise of the music was already strident. “My dragon girl” he smiled seductively at you, ignoring the others. Aemond entered the house rolling his one eye in annoyance and Helaena and Cregan followed him while you continued with a silly smile looking at him. The truth was that whenever he looked at you like that and used that tone of voice you fell apart just for him. Attraction. That was the only thing that had kept that relationship afloat. It was what you feared. “Are you staying over tonight? “To ride your dragon?” Aegon whispered to you. His breath already smelled of alcohol and Aemond pursed his lips as he left his coat on the coat rack in the hall. Was that his brother's best way to seduce you?

"Do not be silly. Of course I'm going to stay the night” you smiled at him, hitting him lightly on the chest, with an embarrassed smile. Aegon smelled of sweat and alcohol, but that didn't seem to matter to you. You had gotten used to it and took the lazy mood of the eldest Targaryen as normal.

“How pretty.” Aegon ran his fingers over the necklace Aemond had brought you. Just getting on his younger brother's nerves. His fingers handling each of the beads, without any shame. “Have you been to the stands at the fair?” He smiled at you. He was so drunk that Aemond doubted he could stand much longer, but of course he could when it came to partying, Aegon could always stand.

“Aemond brought it to me from the Summer Islands” you smiled and saw how Aegon smiled a superb smile. Of course he brought it to you. He turned to look at his brother, who at that moment took his one eye away from the two of you.

“Thank you, little brother. It's very nice what you brought for my girlfriend” he laughed cheekily, marking his territory. It seemed that the only one who didn't realize that Aemond was crazy about you was you.

“Hmm” was all you heard Aemond say as he turned and disappeared into the party. Aegon left too and you closed the door to Aegon's new house. They had both left you alone. Alone but surrounded by people. Helaena looked into the distance. Aegon was stupid to leave you alone, but Aemond was even more stupid. His pride got the best of him and he just missed a brilliant opportunity to be alone with you.

That night, Aemond Targaryen planned to confess, because the only thing that was clear to him in his life was that he could no longer hide what he felt for you.

[badaziraphaletakes]

what was it that caused y'all to make this blog?

Ahaha, this is an interesting question!

Well, I (Mod X) initially got the idea after seeing so many offensive (victim-blaming and/or anti-Autistic and/or misogynistic and/or transphobic, etc, etc) takes in the GO fandom, mostly about Aziraphale, and feeling powerless after having tried to discuss them with the people who wrote them and being met with more victim-blaming, denial, and in some cases outright verbal ab*se. (Like, really really bad verbal ab*se. It was wild.)

At first it was just an idle daydream.

If it had been just me that was affected, or if it had only been a couple people making the bad takes, I wouldn't have gone anywhere with it. But once I realized I wasn’t the only fan who was being hurt, it started to sound like it'd be worthwhile to actually make it.

I had been throwing the idea around for I believe a couple months, but I felt like it wouldn't make sense to actually start the blog unless I could find a take that was so clearly, obviously, unapologetically wrong and harmful, without any disingenuity or subtlety, that literally no one could look at it and come up with an argument that it wasn't wrong, and start off with that. And I didn't think I would find one like that because the hateful people in this fandom are sneaky and disingenuous and good at cloaking their bigotry in the language of respectability, and DARVO-ing people who are offended by their bigotry, and the like.

I didn’t want to start off with a post that just said like, “These takes about Aziraphale give me the ick”.

But then one Azi hater lost it enough to come out and honest-to-god actually write the literal words “Aziraphale doesn't have depression because depression doesn't exist".

(And that one was also a good one for me to start with because my degree is in psychology and I worked in psychology research for over six years. So I had the bona fides to back up my rebuttal. And I knew the right scientific, authoritative sources to point to in order to explain why OP was wrong. Instead of just being like “Everyone knows depression exists”. If that makes sense.)

I didn’t think anyone would ever actually say anything that ludicrous. But they did. For some reason they actually went there.

And I was like, “Okay, here it is. If I start with this one, I can write an ironclad refutation. And this blog might actually do some good”.

And so I created a Crowley-coded email address and fired up a silly little blog.

And to my amazement, within two weeks we were getting so many comments that I couldn’t keep up with them all, and Mod M kindly agreed to join the team, and then Mod D, and they are GREAT.

And now five months later here we are, still going strong (and still possibly the most hated blog in the fandom 😁), and I couldn't be prouder.

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just wants a little reassurance from you, and no matter what he does, he's not getting it. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing and smut

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

Bradley was kissing along your neck, rubbing his nose against your hair and inhaling your sweet scent. 

"Roo, I'm working." 

Of course you were working. It was the only thing you have been doing lately. You were sitting at the dining room table, eating a room temperature hot pocket and answering emails.

"I think you should take a break...with me."

Instead of responding, you just hummed and continued typing away on your computer. It was actually cruel, the way you had come home late from work, undressed right in front of him, taken a quick shower, and changed into his UVA shirt. All without acknowledging him at all.

"Sweetheart, come on, it's late. Let's go to bed."

"Bradley. I have a lot to get done," you mumbled, refreshing your browser and revealing a bunch of new emails. 

"You can pick up again tomorrow," he whispered, squeezing your waist through the cotton fabric. "I've been thinking about you sitting on my face all day. Let me make you cum on my mustache, Baby Girl."

You sighed and looked up at him. "Not tonight, okay?"

He swallowed hard. "Sure." He turned and went to the bathroom to get himself ready for bed, trying to keep the hurt expression from his face. 

If you didn't want to spend time with him in bed, there was no way he was going to get you to have a conversation about the wedding either. Bradley leaned against the bathroom vanity and examined his face in the mirror. He looked older than his thirty-six years at the moment. He also looked miserable. He brushed his teeth and fell asleep alone in the king sized bed. 

-----------------------------

You were trying your best to keep yourself organized, but the wall in your office was starting to look solid yellow from all of the post-it notes you had hanging there. And now you couldn't locate the one you needed. "Shit," you muttered, trying to determine whether or not it had fallen behind your file cabinet. 

The sound of your growling stomach was distracting you, so you started eating your lunch while you searched for the note. You groaned at the sound of knocking on your door. If your team scheduled one more surprise meeting for this week, you were going to scream. 

"Come in!" you called, still trying to pull your file cabinet away from the wall.

"What are you doing, Baby Girl?"

"Roo!" you gasped, rushing around your deck to give him a hug. 

He squeezed you tight, and you buried your nose in his uniform shirt. He smelled good, and now you just wanted to go home and snuggle with him.

"You okay?" he asked you, kissing the top of your head. 

"Mmhmm. Just tired. And I have a meeting that doesn't even start until five, so I have no idea when I'll be home later."

He sighed deeply. "So you want to go to the movies a different night?"

Shit, shit, shit. That was probably listed in your personal calendar somewhere, but you hadn't checked. "I can skip the meeting," you told him, looking up into his brown eyes. "I can skip it."

He just shook his head. "No, we can go another night. It's fine." 

But he sounded annoyed. You needed to figure out a way to make this better. "Listen. I'm almost maxed out with my days off. I really need to start using some of them so I don't lose them before the end of the year. We can both take a day off and do something fun."

His lips twitched as he looked at you before he said, "Won't you need the days off for the honeymoon?" Then he cautiously added, "You said we could get married this year."

Your mind was overworked enough already without adding wedding planning to the agenda. "Yeah, I mean, as long as we can find a venue that can accommodate us and everything else."

"You ready to start looking at venues, then?" he asked hopefully.

"Roo, the next couple weeks are not going to be a good time for me to do that."

He pressed his lips together. "It's already mid-September. I was hoping to get a jump on this last month."

You squeezed him and said, "We'll figure it out." 

He rubbed your back and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Yeah... we'll figure it out. I love you," he told you before he left. And as soon as he was gone, you realized he could have helped you move the file cabinet.

-------------------------------

Bradley was so lonely with you constantly working late. He took Tramp on so many long walks, the poor dog was exhausted. He also helped the elderly neighbors with their yard work, and he played piano by himself. And he barely ever saw you before seven o'clock. 

The worst part for him was that he was the only one initiating intimacy. Not just sex, but anything. You were either tired or working or thinking about working. Last night when he started kissing you in bed and running his fingers along your neck, you moaned, so he thought that was a green light. But then you literally yawned against his mouth, and told him you were too tired. The night before that, you were sitting up in the kitchen on your computer until who knows what time. You told him you would be in to say goodnight, but you weren't.

It was short-term. He knew that. And he knew your work was important. It was literally paramount to his own safety whenever he flew his F/A-18. But he fucking missed you. He missed you whining about how you needed him to get you off during the cookout. He missed shower sex. He'd give anything for you to call him Daddy right now. 

Fuck. Just thinking about it was making him hard, but you probably wouldn't be home for hours. So he ran his own hand along his cock. Again. He jerked off like he did before you and he were dating: to the mental image of your legs in a short skirt, to the thought of him sliding his hands underneath said skirt. 

He came easily, but he didn't actually feel any relief.

--------------------------------------

Bradley was trying to be patient, but it was supposed to be Hard Deck night, and you were currently pacing around the kitchen on the phone with Sonya from your lab.

"Did you try saving it first and then opening it in a different format?" you asked, walking back around the island. "Hmmm. I'm not sure. Email it to me, and I'll try to open it."

Bradley watched you open your laptop as you put your phone on speaker. You glanced over at him when he twirled his keys around his finger, and you winced. Then you held up one finger in his direction, and he took Tramp out back.

You'd been like this for the past two weeks, and his patience was starting to wear thin. Every day you came home exhausted, and unfortunately he had been making dinner most nights. Which meant it never tasted very good. He was craving one of your fancy homemade meals, but he didn't want to ask you to make one for him. You were so busy at work as it was. 

Bradley knew how you were. Work was important to you. And you were important to him. So he would just have to wait it out.

"Sorry!" you said, poking your head out through the sliding glass door. "Sonya and I got it sorted, so we can go out now, Roo."

"Yeah, okay," he replied, tossing the ball one more time for Tramp. 

When he was alone with you in the Bronco, everything was perfect. You queued up one of his favorite playlists and laced your fingers through his. You sang along badly to the song which always made him smile, and he played with your ring. 

"Did you have a chance to look at any of the wedding vendors on that list I gave you?" he asked softly as he pulled into the parking lot. 

You shot him an apologetic look. "Not yet, but I'll look at all of them tomorrow. I promise."

Bradley just grunted as he shifted into park. He climbed out and helped you out of your door. "Please look at them," he said, grasping your chin and guiding your face up until you would meet his eyes. "It's important to me."

"I will," you whispered as you leaned up to kiss him. "It's important to me too. I just have got to get past all of this shit at work."

Bradley kissed you harder and you wound your arms around his neck. He let you soothe his nerves with your soft lips and your little noises. It would be okay.

------------------------------

As soon as you and Bradley were inside the bar, Phoenix had a beer in your hand. "Unless you're pregnant. Are you pregnant?" she asked, about to pull the drink back out of your grasp. Bradley was already on his way over to the pool table.

"No!" you said, surprised. "What the hell, Phoenix? Do I look fatter or something?" you asked, looking down the front of your body. If anything, you thought you might have lost a little weight, because you kept forgetting to eat when you were at work. You really needed to start setting reminder alarms in your phone. 

"No, but we haven't seen you in like two and a half weeks," she replied, pushing the beer in your hand closer to your lips. "We started making up conspiracy theories for fun. I thought maybe you were home with morning sickness. Bagman said you probably moved out, and Bradley was just pretending to hold it together. Fanboy assumed you went to the Comics convention in Philadelphia without inviting him, and that's why we haven't heard from you."

You pressed your lips together, simultaneously trying not to laugh or cry. "I'm sorry. I have been so busy with work. My boss is up for a promotion and I really want one by next year as well."

Phoenix eyed you closely before asking, "How are the wedding plans coming along?"

You glanced past her to see your fiancé taking a shot at the pool table. As much as you promised him you would start looking at venues and photographers and florists, you found you just didn't really want the added stress. You knew Bradley would be okay with just doing something simple in Maryland, if you told him that's what you wanted. You also thought you could get him to agree to an elopement if you really pushed him. But you just didn't know what you wanted, and you didn't have the energy or time to sit and think about any of it right now.

"Um, we haven't really started," you told Phoenix while you played with the label on your beer. 

She leaned in a little closer until you met her eyes. "Well, you should start," she told you, all hints of joking gone. It felt like a warning. 

"Yeah," you agreed. "I know that."

"He will do whatever you tell him you want to do, but please, tell him something." You had never heard her use this tone of voice before. 

You swallowed down a sip of your beer. "Did he say something to you?" you asked softly. 

"Yes."

"What did he say?" you asked, chewing on your lip.

But Phoenix just shook her head. "I don't want to tell you." Then she walked away, leaving you alone and upset.  

You tried your best to blend in with everyone. You had missed them. It wasn't like you hadn't. But now you felt like you were letting Bradley down, and you still had almost two weeks left of deadlines for work. But if he was talking to his best friend about you, and Phoenix wouldn't tell you what was said, that was bad.

You wrapped your arms around Bradley from behind and he chuckled. "Come here," he told you, pulling you into a hug. You pulled him down for a kiss before agreeing to play some pool. You saw Nat eyeing both of you quietly as she sipped her drink. You would do better. You would make time to talk about wedding stuff.

And you'd give Bradley a blowjob later. That would probably make both of you feel better. It had been a few days.

---------------------------------

Bradley liked this a lot. It felt really good to be enjoying your mouth instead of his own hand. As soon as you both got home, you started undoing his jeans. 

"Right here?" he asked you softly, in the dark entryway. 

"Right here," you confirmed, dropping down to your knees. He had honestly been hoping to have sex with you, but this felt so good, he didn't want to stop you now. 

You sucked on him so well, and when you released his dick in favor of gently teasing his balls with your mouth, he groaned. "You know I love that."

"Mmm," you hummed, and he wrapped his fingers in your hair. "I know what else you like," you whispered, before taking his cock in your mouth again and getting sloppy. 

Yep. You knew exactly what he liked. 

Once he was sated and you were standing and kissing his neck, he said, "Why don't you go lay in bed? I'll get you off with my mouth and fingers, Sweetheart."

You ran your nose across his Adam's apple but shook your head. "I'm going to get a little work done before bed, okay?"

Bradley felt like he had been slapped in the face. You just got him off, and then turned him down. He felt like something cheap. Or like a chore you had to do. Like something less desirable than work. He felt like nothing more than an obligation as he watched you flip on the light and sit at the kitchen island with your computer. 

"I'm going to bed," he told you and headed down the hallway. He never thought you could possibly make him feel badly about himself. You. You were the one who always made him feel wanted and important. He had never imagined he could be so happy with someone. You stood up for him. You nursed him back to health. You were his teammate.

But right now he felt like he was going to cry. And it's not like he could talk to anyone about this. That would be mortifying. His wife-to-be would rather work at midnight than let him go down on her. He'd already talked Nat's ear off about the fact that you wouldn't commit to any wedding plans. You wouldn't even tell him where you wanted to get married. He couldn't get one detail out of you. He named three songs he thought you could use for a first dance together, and you just told him you would think about it. 

You kept telling him you would think about things, but you weren't getting back to him with any information. He was starting to get terrified that he would end up getting deployed again and have to leave you for months without even a wedding date to look forward to. 

He sat on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. The urge to talk to his mom was so strong right now, he actually did start to cry. 

-----------------------------

You joined Bradley in bed after he was already asleep, and you were awake before he was the next morning. You dressed in your last clean uniform and drank a mug of coffee. You really needed to make sure you did laundry tonight. You scowled at the coffee and drank it as quickly as you could. Somehow Bradley had become better than you at making your coffee the way you liked it. You smiled for a minute as you remembered how weird he thought your french press was when you first moved in with him. 

It was still early, and you didn't want to wake him, so you left him a note on the counter. 

Roo, I love you. Fly safely. 

Then you grabbed your bag and left. Today you would find out if you had to go to Annapolis at the beginning of October with your team to help present your research. You were practically vibrating with excitement. 

You had promised Bradley you would look at wedding stuff today. And you would. Probably while you ate lunch. But you just didn't see how the two of you would possibly have enough time to plan everything and get married this year. September was almost done now, and you didn't know how hard it would be to find a date that was available somewhere. 

If you had to talk him into next year, you would. It would be fine. 

So you got to work right away, and everyone ended up working through lunch. You were planning on taking a break soon, and then you'd text Bradley and see how his day was going. And during your break, you would scroll through some wedding venues and see if any of the locations appealed to you. 

"We're going to Annapolis," Bickel announced from the lab doorway. 

"Are you serious?" you asked him, slowly standing and trying to see if he was joking. 

"I'm serious," he said with a smile as the lab erupted in cheers. It was hard for you to imagine that just a few months ago, you thought you might have to take a leave of absence or switch locations to avoid having to work with Josh. Now you would be presenting your work on a national scale in your home state. 

You took your phone out of your pocket to text Bradley, but Bickel was already loudly telling everyone to join him tomorrow night for dinner and drinks on him. You had rescheduled tomorrow night to be movie night with Bradley. He already bought tickets. You were going to have to cancel on him a second time. And you were going to have to tell him you'd be in Annapolis for a week next month. 

You were also probably going to have to tell him there was no way the two of you were going to be able to get married this year. 

--------------------------------

"I'm so sorry, Bradley. Can you take Jake or Nat to the movies with you instead?" you asked him.

"Sure," he answered, not even looking at you as he poured himself a bowl of cereal for dinner. 

"Great. And um... well... I'll be gone for a week next month. But it's good! Because I get to present my work in Annapolis."

He turned to look at you and nodded. "I'm really proud of you," he told you quietly. And he was. You had worked hard, and you had earned this. 

"Thanks, Roo," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist. "You've made everything so much easier for me. And in a few weeks, we can really start to get back to normal, you know?"

He swallowed hard, letting his hands come to rest on your hips. He hadn't touched you like this in a few days, and he had missed it so much, it was almost painful now. "That sounds nice."

"I need to do laundry and make sure I have something to wear to dinner tomorrow night," you said, pulling out of his arms and heading to the bedroom.

Bradley just wanted to feel close to you again, so he followed you and sat on the edge of the bed while you perused your dresses. 

"What about this one?" you asked, holding up your black wrap dress. 

"Bronco sex," he said, and you started to laugh. "Reminds me of Bronco sex."

"Yeah... me too," you told him, hanging it up again. "Better not wear it to a work dinner. I'd be thinking about you the whole time."

He rubbed his hand across his face. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

"No. Just hard to focus. How about this dress?" you asked, holding up the blue one you wore when you picked him up at the docks a few deployments ago. 

"Sex against the inside of the front door," he whispered. But you were already pulling out a sweater to wear over it.

"I know you like this one," you said, holding it up in front of your body for him to see. 

"Loved it since the first time you wore it, Baby Girl."

You took a deep breath. "I guess I should start thinking about what kind of wedding dress I want."

Bradley immediately jumped up from the bed. "Yes! Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, but you were already shaking your head.

"I'm not supposed to talk about that with you!"

His heart sank again, but he supposed you were correct about that detail. "You want to call your mom and talk to her about it?" he asked. 

"Roo, it's almost midnight on the east coast. I'll worry about it later."

He didn't want you to worry about your wedding dress. He wanted you to be excited about it.

"Let's go watch a show," you told him, headed for the living room. A few minutes later, Bradley was the big spoon to your little spoon. You put on a show he didn't even like very much, but he was too embarrassed to ask you to switch it to Real Housewives of Atlanta, so he just held you close. 

Then he started to kiss your neck, working his lips and his mustache next to your ear. "Roo," you whispered, and that tone of your voice was like a shot of adrenaline through his body. 

"Sweetheart," he whispered, already growing hard for you. "Can we get in bed?"

You sighed. "I'm too tired tonight." So he stopped kissing you and just held you. Soon your breathing evened out, and he could tell you were asleep. So he watched the end of the show by himself, and then he scooped you up and carried you to bed. He tried to tuck you in gently, but you woke up. Now he was terrified that you were going to go back to the kitchen with your computer instead of at least sleeping next to him.

"I'm sorry I'm so tired," you told him before you yawned. Even the way you were arching your back as you stretched had him aching for you. When you pulled your shirt and bra off and replaced them with his UVA tee, his mouth went dry.

"I hate to say this, but... can we schedule some sex into your calendar?" Bradley asked you.

You laughed. "We can have sex this weekend."

"Last weekend, you worked all weekend. Same as the weekend before that."

"Well, I won't this weekend, okay?"

He just nodded as you headed to the bathroom.

------------------------------------

Poor Roo! Come on Baby Girl, he just wants you to plan the wedding!

Part 3

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[leodette]

The Greatest Gift of Them All | LN4

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Lando Norris x OC (not named)

names/faceclaims: -

summary: he gave a 'gift', and because of that she quit; set in between 2021 - 2023

warning: age difference (older woman x younger man), unplanned pregnancy, single mother, mild angst

requested: yes / no

**********

She was hanging the wet laundry outside, letting the gentle summer breeze through her hair. She never used a dryer. Why buy such an expensive piece of equipment, when you have a whole garden outside, with strings tied under the pergola, just waiting for another basket of laundry?

Also, it smelled better. She hated the too-artificial smell of softener, preferring sun and wind against it. That was how she was raised after all.

She took another piece from the basket, shaking it a bit and smiling when she saw what it was. A small dark green T-shirt, with a picture of a red car on the chest. She remembered it when she saw it for the first time - opening a package from her cousin and his wife, taking out that t-shirt and a cat plushie with a big bow around its neck, remembering the tears that rolled down her face when she thanked her cousin for such a pretty gift.

His eyes were green…

She shushed her mind, not allowing herself to walk that path again. Instead, she just hung the t-shirt on the string, making sure it was straight and would require minimal ironing once it was dry when a giggle interrupted her thoughts.

Too high for it to be her father or her brother, she smiled gently as she looked towards a small sandbox under a walnut tree in the middle of the garden. A small boy was sitting there, playing with a yellow plastic ball. His dark curly hair was making a small halo around his head, already growing too quickly and being so unruly that she gave up, his eyes being probably the only thing he got from his mother. Otherwise, he was a carbon copy of his father. His father who had no idea he had a one-year-old son. Who would never know that he had a son if she had anything to say about it.

---

She was always just an average girl from a small town in a small country. There was nothing special about her. She was on the quiet side, didn't like the attention much, experienced bullying all the way through secondary school and high school… and then suddenly, she was at university. And she learned how to fly. How to open her wings and show people around her that she wasn't a scared pigeon, but a beautiful parrot, who found her voice.

And her voice she found. When she changed her job for the second time in two years - claiming one was too stressful and the other too boring - she decided to be bold. Playing the card of herself being outspoken, she managed to send her resume to McLaren while writing another boring article about local politics in early January. Mostly as a joke, a dare, not expecting to hear from them, that email being buried in her sent box, without much more attention.

But, then the answer came. With a request for a video interview.

To say she was shaken would be an understatement. She was. At first? She thought it was a prank, spam, a mistake. But it was not.

And so two days later she connected to a Zoom call with McLaren HR and the head of their communication, being asked about her experiences and about her visions, where she saw herself in five years, and why she wanted to work for them. It was a school book example of a proper job interview for an international corporation. 

In the final, two other people connected, and she was introduced to them, asking her own questions, and then promised to be let know about the results. Which came in another two days.

We are informing you that McLaren Racing would like to offer you a work contract…

She still remembers the words to this day, she even printed the response and put it on her fridge after she stopped jumping around and screaming with excitement.

And so she left her hometown, her home country, and went to the UK, to MTC, to start working for one of the biggest companies in motorsport.

And that was where she met him.

… green eyes and freckles and your smile In the back of my mind…

Is that how Taylor sings it? Probably. But that was how she felt when she was first introduced to him. He was young, only in his third season in Formula 1, but he still took her breath away.

Looking back, she had it coming. She always had a thing for either boys that were younger than her, or much older than her. The same age? Not interested, thank you very much.  (Her therapist said one day that maybe it's the result of her being bullied by boys of the same age. If it was true, she would never know.)

But there she was, seemingly unnoticed easing her way into Lando Norris's life, being the one who kept track of his timeline, who was looking after his things - his passport gave her a number of headaches and few missed flights - and who sometimes had to confiscate his phone.

But otherwise? They were good. They found a common ground.

She was three years older, and sometimes their relationship resembled younger brother and older sister. Or maybe a babysitter. But they were good, having a very similar sense of humor, and few similar interests, and he seemed to enjoy when she talked about her home, about how her country was different from his. He hated it when she spoke her mother tongue, not being able to understand a word she said, and she soon learned to provoke him with it, on purpose calling her parents or her siblings when they were stuck in a car or waiting for like a driver's meeting or for media day. And he hated her for it but still seemed curious. Sometimes though, there was a palable tension. She knew he looked at her as a man would look at woman. She knew that look. But in that time, she wouldn't ever dare to jeopardize her job with something like a mild feeling of a shared attraction.

They managed that for some time until Sochi came. Looking back at it, she should never have gone into his room to check if he was okay. Looking back, she was berating herself for being stupid.

Because the tension that was building between them for the past few months snapped that fateful evening. Some people say that there are two best ways to let the frustration and anger out - punch it out, or shag it out. That evening, they did the second.

She sneaked out of Lando's room in the early morning, her hair a complete mess and her bra missing as she wasn't able to locate it in his messy room. He secretly put it in her back later that day, together with a teasing smile, that she returned with difficulty. They never did it again, and they never spoke about it.

The tension between them changed since that day, especially from her side. It became weird. Yes, she sometimes slept with younger men. But never with those she worked with. Even Daniel seemed to realize something shifted. And when almost two months later she ran out of her hotel room in São Paulo in desperate need of find pharmacy, she knew she was in trouble. Especially when two lines appeared on a cheap plastic stick, changing her life forever. She was scared, freaking out in her hotel bathroom, having a horrible reality check, and on the outside presenting herself as if everything was all right.

She couldn't tell him. He was with Luisa at that time already, the girl being an absolute darling, stunningly pretty, a perfect match to Lando's still-in-my-teenage-years personality.

So she waited. Suffered from nausea in private, kept to herself, no longer mingling around the paddock, going out only when she had to.

She watched together with the rest of the world how the young Dutchman snatched the championship from the more experienced Brit, throwing the world of Formula 1 into controversy that would not stop in the upcoming years.

After that, she handed in her resignation, never telling anyone her true reasons, stating homesickness and never-ending traveling as the main reasons.

She hugged Lando in the privacy of his Adu Dhabi hotel room, wishing him well, He looked sad that she was leaving but promised her that they would keep in touch.

They never did.

Throughout the upcoming weeks, there wasn't a single message from no one of her former co-workers. Not to mention Lando himself. And one evening, her patience reached the limit. She deleted her Twitter and Snapchat, went through her followers on Instagram and threw out everyone who even slightly could connect her to Lando, then put it in private settings. Similar to her Facebook, where she deleted almost everything, keeping it mostly for texting with other people through Messenger.

She, seemingly without care, cut off the last year from her life.

But, well, she did care. She grew angry more and more throughout the following months. She didn't delete Lando's number from her phone. But he didn't call, didn't text, and she wasn't the one who would kick the conversation out. It was like they never existed for one another. Yes, she knew he had a busy schedule. But even in his daily calendar, she knew he spent an ungodly amount of time on his phone.

And as her anger grew, so did her stomach. Her parents never asked anything, just accepted the fact that the father wouldn't be in the picture, not even to pay the child support. She didn't want it. Her grandparents left a small inheritance to their three grandchildren, and she soon found a remote job for a PR company in her hometown. Her mother accompanied her to her ultrasounds, crying softly when she saw the small form of her first grandchild on the screen.

She asked the doctor not to tell her the gender. She wanted to be surprised. And she was, when in the middle of July of the next year, a small form of her son was put on her chest, his dark curly hair still wet with blood and fluids, and her being sweaty and her voice hoarse from screaming in pain.

She named him after her own father, a person who supported her without fail throughout those past seven months, and in his birth certificate she left the space under name of the father blank.

Her baby boy got her surname, and after recovering, she moved with him into a small garden house at her parent’s property, just a few steps away from her family. Besides his looks, he got nothing from his father.

She never told anyone beside her parents who the father of her son was, not even the father himself. He stayed in the darkness, blissfully unaware of that fact.

---

Her mother asked her one evening when she put her son to bed, if she ever planned on telling Lando the truth. She just snorted. She was twenty-six, had a one-year-old child, had a job, and he never once reached out to her. Not a single time.

If she ever had anything to say, he would never know he had a son. Once her boy was a bit bigger and started to ask after his Dad, then she would have to come up with some explanation. But for now? She could keep him blissfully in darkness, enjoying the feeling of being the most important person in his life.

Her and Lando's lives didn't align. They weren't compatible. They were like Sun and Moon, like Heavens and Hell.

Maybe it wasn't her plan - being a single mother, still living at her parent’s property, considering her own mother as her best friend and biggest help. She had imagined her future. But, as she always said - if you want to entertain God, tell Him your plans.