#i love how perth is laughing along too

[gaiaxygang]

that video where nanon mentions hes known krist for close to 10 years and chimon gasps and nanon shoots back "ive known YOU for close to 8 years" i think about it sometimes

[iinsertblognamee]

ring in the pocket

summary ― mamma mia and a proposal

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― fluff

based off this request

Sam was nervous, a feeling she had become accustomed to over her years of playing football. However this time it had nothing to do with her favourite sport and everything to do with the extra weight in her pocket. 

The two of you were sitting on your shared couch, Mamma Mia playing on the TV after you had begged Sam to watch it with you. She of course said yes, although Sam had started to notice she rarely ever said no to you. 

Your hand was resting on her knee, your legs intertwined with hers, a smile on your face as you mouth the words to the songs playing on the screen. Sam’s heart beat just that little bit faster as she watched you. 

She knew you were the one for her, she knew from the moment she had seen you. The two of you ran into each other at the grocery store, apologises left both your mouths as you helped each other pick up the lost items. 

Sam couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were, the way your eyes lit up as you smiled - thanking her for her help, even though she had been the one to cause the trouble. 

It took her a few seconds to be able to pinpoint your accent, her eyebrows frowning in confusion. 

“You’re from Aus?” 

You nodded your head, somehow your smile growing even further. “Yeah, Sydney. Just visiting some friends” 

“Ah, the dark side” Sam responded, giggles leaving your lips - Sam swore her heart stopped for a second. You were beautiful. 

“What about you?” 

“Perth” 

The conversation ran a few more minutes before you two remembered you were both needed other places. Sam knew she couldn’t let you go, not without your number at least. 

You grabbed her phone off her and placed your number in, before sending a message off so you would have Sam’s number too. 

“Y/N? Pretty name” Sam read off the screen before looking back up at you. “For a pretty girl” 

“That was horrible” You laugh out, adding a comment asking how many girls that had worked on before. Sam claimed she’d have to wait for your reply to get the correct answer. 

With goodbyes said, and numbers given Sam left that grocery store excited for what would come of it. 

Fast forward four years later, Sam was fortunate enough to call you her girlfriend. By the end of the night, Sam was hoping for more. 

She could feel her phone buzzing off, friends and families asking if she had popped the question yet. You too had taken notice of the constant buzzing, turning your head with a questioning look on your face. 

“What’s with all the paparazzi Kerr?” 

Sam felt herself freeze up, and she knew the second she had, you had felt it too. Your eyebrows arch even more as you move your body to face your girlfriend instead. 

“Just the group chat going off, Macca found a pub she wants us all to try” 

She knows you don’t believe a word of what she said, but Meryl Streep starts to sing ‘The Winner Takes It All’ and ultimately takes your attention off her. Your lips moving once again, Sam planting a kiss on your hairline, as you sink back into her embrace. 

The movie moved along, you squeezing Sam’s leg a few times at your favourite parts. Sam watched as Sophia floated off the screen, you letting out a small yawn as the screen faded. 

The ending credits start soon enough, a burst of energy waking you up enough to jump off the couch, reaching your hands out to pull Sam up with you. She pretends to dislike the idea but gives in as you give another push. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to start dancing, Sam keeping her hands on your waist as you both move around together. Laughter leaves both your lips, as Sam brings you down, planting a kiss on your lips before bringing you back up again. 

“I love you” you mumble onto her lips, kissing them once again before pulling away to continue to dance. 

Sam could feel the box move around in her pocket, her eyes never leaving you, as you danced around the living room. 

Her mum had always told Sam that she would always know when the right moment was, there would be a shift in the atmosphere - a feeling of completeness. Whether that had been scoring a goal or asking a girl out on a date. 

Sam felt it shift, and although she had felt this kind of change before, many times as she would go for a goal - this was nothing compared. 

She doesn’t remember taking the box out of her pocket, or getting down on one knee - but she will never forget the look on your face as you turn around to see her, ring in her hand and her lip in between her teeth. 

Everything she had prepared to say went straight out the window, your hands covering your mouth, as you tried to assess what exactly was happening. 

“Y/N, I promise you I had a whole speech planned out. One that I made everyone we know hear over and over again until I had perfected it for you. But I can’t seem to remember shit from it. But what I do know is that I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to marry you since the day we bumped into each other in that grocery store. I know we’ve taken a while to get here, a long-distance relationship was never in the cards for either of us, but you made it worth it. And I am so glad that we did because look at what we’ve become.” 

She pauses, tears streaming down both your faces - you now joining her on the floor. Your hands holding onto her arms, you can feel a slight shake coming from Sam but ignore it as you listen to everything she has to say. 

“I love you Y/N and I want the world to know just how much I love you. I want them to see my - our last name on your back as you cheer me on. I want to watch our kids grow old together and get all grossed out when we kiss in front of them. I want the rushed mornings and the lazy Sunday afternoons. I want everything with you Y/N. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, Will You Marry Me?” 

Your lips are on hers in an instant, your tears mixing as you nod your head. 

“Yes! Yes, Yes! A hundred times Yes” Sam manages to pull you even closer, kissing her girlfriend fiancé. 

Y/N Kerr. It had a nice ring to it.

[semperama]

trick or treat🧡🧡 (idk if you want specific ish requests or not, but just in case ex husbands maxiel maybe? 👀 nothing spookier than that lol)

Always SO happy to talk about ex husbands maxiel. Here's a (possible, I can't commit this to stone) headcanon for how they end up back together (because of course they end up back together):

--

After Max retires from racing, he starts spending more time at home with his sister and mother and less and less time in Monaco, and he and Daniel see less and less of each other. Daniel had been finding excuses to show up to races, helping out with commentary and stuff, but once Max isn't there, he starts splitting his time between Australia and LA, depending on business obligations. They go from seeing each other frequently to almost never and it's--Daniel feels hollow, like he's been carved out inside, and if something hits him wrong, he'll shatter into a million pieces.

He ends up deeply depressed in ways he can't acknowledge, going through the motions of his own life. Nothing feels right anymore. Food doesn't taste right. The air doesn't feel right on his skin. He still smiles and laughs and sees his friends, but sometimes it's like he's watching his life from a distance, not really experiencing anything anymore.

Then one day he runs into Max in LA, just like he used to before they were even dating, when his heart started beating fast at the sight of him but he wasn't able to acknowledge what that meant. It hurts this time, because even after the divorce, Max always used to tell him when he was going to be in town, but this time he didn't.

(What he doesn't know is that Max has been suffering too. He only retreated into his family for comfort. He's only stayed away from Daniel because the exes-with-benefits thing started to hurt too much. He always, always wanted to ask Daniel to give him another chance, but he was too afraid Daniel would say no.)

Daniel invites Max back to his place and realizes too late how shameful it is--unwashed dishes in the sink, empty cans and bottles scattered around, clothes on the floor of the bedroom (including one of Max's old Red Bull t-shirts, which he sleeps in sometimes, even though it lost Max's smell a long time ago). But Max doesn't comment on any of it, and they fuck on Daniel's rumpled, unwashed sheets, and afterward they hold each other for a long, long time, and Daniel has to keep biting down on his bottom lip to keep from saying something he shouldn't, or shouting, or sobbing.

Max is the brave one who finally says, "I miss you," and Daniel gives in to the impulse to ask Max to stay with him for a while. Max has a flight in a couple days, but he changes it and ends up staying with Daniel for a couple weeks instead, and even though they don't talk about what it all means, Daniel feels like he's coming alive again. His chest hurts constantly--like the pins and needles of the blood rushing back into a limb that was asleep--but that's better than the numbness he had before. They fall back into their old routines, going for runs along the same routes they used to take through the hills, visiting the restaurants they loved, curling up on the couch to watch dumb movies. Daniel ignores texts and calls from friends, because he doesn't want to shatter the illusion.

Then it comes time for Max to leave, and Daniel just--can't. He thinks he might die if he has to watch Max walk out the door again. He literally will lie down on the floor and never get up again. While Max packs his things, Daniel hovers, pacing the bedroom, opening his mouth and then closing it again against words he knows he doesn't have a right to say.

Finally, finally, he lets himself croak, "I don't want you to go." Max turns to him, and his eyes are red, and his hands are balled into fists, and he says, "I will stay, if you tell me to."

They cancel Max's flight. A month later, Max goes with Daniel back to Perth. The ache in Daniel's chest goes away. His smile feels real again.

[chesirecatsmile]

I don’t know if you’re into this but I would love to read something about Max getting jealous of Josh when he picked up Daniel at Las Vegas. like he wasn’t able to be there or maybe about Lando’s visit to Perth

“hello?”

it’s late. past 2 in the morning late. max was rubbing his eyes in bed as he scrolled on twitter before daniel called, something he would never do usually. but he was tagged on a video of his almost-boyfriend and another man, and he is only human.

he watched daniel fall into josh's arms, wondered if he'd be able to pick him up like that, carry him. he thinks he definitely could.

“why are you up?” daniel says from the other side of the line, of the world. there’s a lazy smile in his voice. “hi.”

“you called.” max yawns again, “are you having fun?”

that’s not what he wants to say. daniel lets out a laugh before he answers, “i miss you,” he says.

max’s heart clenches. he readjusts in bed and throws the cover off himself, smiling out of habit. “yeah?” he drops his voice to a whisper even though he’s home alone.

“yeah.”

“what were you up to today?”

“launch was fine, got loads of pictures,” daniel says, his voice briefly tightened by the evidence of a full-bodied stretch. max imagines him spread out on a hotel bed, in only his underwear like he always is. “josh came over, too.”

jealousy rolls down max’s spine. daniel is good at getting that out of him, all smiles and brown eyes when he talks to someone. daniel likes getting that rise out of him.

max rolls his tongue along his teeth under his lip and sighs. “yeah?” he tries not to imagine daniel talking to the football player. daniel brushing shoulders with a handsome football player. daniel with that sweet smile when josh asks to come up to his room? continue this conversation in private? max licks his front teeth. “was that fun?”

daniel sniffs a chuckle. “yeah, he’s cool.”

cool, max chews on the edge of his lip. “is he, now?”

daniel takes a deep breath, max sits up slightly in bed, his hands sweaty.

“i miss you,” daniel breathes.

“yeah? how much?” max says. he manages a laugh that twists into a sigh. “should i tell you what i'm wearing?”

daniel hums. “why do i get the feeling that the answer is nothing?”

“smart.”

“tell me you miss me."

max bites gently on the tip of his tongue and holds it there. daniel’s breathing heaves, and max knows exactly what he is doing. he loves when max talks, talks like this.

“i miss you, daniel.”

“yeah.”

“miss you a lot.”

“tell me how much.”

jesus. max shuts his eyes for a moment and lets out a slow breath. imagines daniel’s hand on his length, his thighs spread and flexing.

“i had a dream about you last night,” max murmurs, running his finger along his own erection. daniel huffs out a soft gasp, seemingly catched by surprise.

“what kind of dream?”

“not a sexy one, perv.”

daniel chuckles, “tell me.”

max stares at the wall, “we were in saint-tropez”

“yeah?” his voice breaks the way it does when max is giving him head.

“it was my birthday, you were being nice to me.”

“i’m always nice.”

“you were making us drinks, dancing in the living room.”

daniel’s throat clicks as his breathing picks up. “what drinks?”

“don’t know.”

“shame.” daniel murmurs, low in his chest and warm.

daniel doesn’t last long as max describes his dream, going out to a party with people he doesn't know. he comes with a groan, sweet and desperate.

“jesus, daniel.”

“now we have to go to saint-tropez.”

daniel huffs a laugh that sounds like it takes over his whole body. max smiles against his shoulder, he’s too tired to ger himself off, but it’s the thought that counts. daniel takes a few more moments to catch his breath.

“pick me up at the airport,” he finally says.

“yeah? like you’re my girlfriend?”

a happy laugh comes out from daniel, “maybe you’re my girlfriend,” he says through the wide stretch of a yawn.

“we can both be the girlfriend.”

another soft groan floats across the line. “i like the sound of that.”

max leans sideways, pressing his temple against his cold pillow, and grins like a fucking idiot.

“as much as i’d love to go again, i can hear you're falling asleep.”

“goodnight, daniel.”

“sweet dreams.”

[onboardsorasora]

Enchanted AU: Part 36

Your eyes do not deceive you, its a new chapter! (which I started months ago and tabled). We're going back to irregular updates here-- mostly whenever I feel a vibe. If a new plot forms, it forms! I missed these two, happy to write them again.

Enchanted AU - Disney Princess Dan 1 | Part 35

Max placed his hand on Daniel's bouncing thigh as they sat in the back of the SUV. The skyline was a beautiful orange that reminded him of the smoke that followed him around the grandstands.

Perth was beautiful.

Joe had only given him a stern look in place of a shovel talk before shaking his hand. No doubt Grace and Michelle took care of that. Daniel had clutched Joe like his life depended on it and Max was able to see the absolute relief that fluttered over the elder Ricciardo’s face. 

Daniel seemed to get more and more nervous the closer they got to the family ranch. He'd begun biting his cuticles along with his leg hopping.

“What's wrong?” Max leaned over to whisper. Daniel jolted a little before smiling.

“I'm just excited to see everyone I think. It's like been so long.”

“They'll all be happy to see you, I think.” Max knew Daniel meant all the animals in his ‘everyone’ and he couldn't wait to maybe meet some of them. 

They arrived not too long afterwards and there was a flurry of activity. Daniel was scooped up into many hugs and Max was even enfolded into the bosom of an older woman who mumbled to him in Italian. She looked at Max's face this way and that from varying angles before she smiled beautifully as if satisfied.

“Nonna please.” Daniel came to save him, he muttered to the woman in Italian in a pleading tone and she only smirked at him and said something in what Max could only claim as an ‘i told you so’ tone.

“Don't mind her.” Daniel was blushing as he spoke, tugging Max out of the house by his hand. They exited through a door in the kitchen and Max saw that the land went on for kilometers. 

“Would you like to meet everyone?” Daniel asked shyly. Max threaded his fingers through Daniel's and brought the back of his tattooed wrist to his lips.

“I'd be honoured.”

Daniel led them through a side gate that separated a garden area from what seemed to be the greater farm. They didn't walk very far before they were immediately swarmed by a small herd of llamas, sheep and horses. 

Daniel took a minute to laugh and interact with the animals before tugging Max forward. He sang Max's introduction, and soon he was overwhelmed with animals trying to get his attention.

Max doesn't know how long they spent out there, going for rides with the herd. He was amazed at how excited the animals were to see Daniel again. It felt like the time in the glade in Monaco on steroids. Max watched as Daniel stroked the head of a foal tucked into his side, he smiled softly as they were presented with all of the new babies to ooh and ahh over.

If Max didn't know any better, he'd have thought they stepped into a Disney movie or something.

Grace stepped out onto the back patio with a grin and her hands on her hips. Daniel looked up from where he was nuzzling an alpaca and nodded. 

“It's dinner time I think.” Daniel murmured, reaching for Max's hand.

It took some coaxing and promises of more cuddle time for the animals to let them go. Daniel also promised to brush the horses before the night was over. 

“C’mon Mr popular.” Max teased, pulling Daniel close by the wrist. Daniel ducked his head in a blush and pushed Max's shoulder with his. 

“Did you– everyone enjoyed meeting you.” Daniel bit his lip nervously. He hoped Max hadn't been too overwhelmed.

Max kissed their joined hands. “It was lovely. Everyone really loves you.” Max said honestly. He only felt a little badly that he'd had Daniel to himself all this time. 

“I missed them as well. If I knew I'd have been gone for so long I'd have given everyone more kisses!” Daniel babbled. “I'll make sure to spend time with everyone before we leave for Melbourne.”

They stepped onto the back porch and Max pulled Daniel into his arms. He kissed Daniel's temple, smiling a little at the thought of Daniel coming with him to a race weekend. He was more excited than he realized, the anticipation of Daniel in his world– seeing him in his element was high. 

“I'll come with you.” Max promised, enjoying the beaming smile Daniel sent his way. It would be lovely, he knew. Any time spent with Daniel was.

[waiting-on-mars]

final thoughts: i just wanna have a long talk with the scriptwriters because that script did not do yoonlay any justice, their acting and perth's acting was good despite the limitations of the script, especially lay, he carried the whole thing tbh!!! the foundation of masuk and jia's relationship is very rocky, especially with tir looming in the LITERAL BACKGROUND of each shot, reminding us that masuk will always have tir taking up a huge part of his heart!! like how is masuk and jia as a couple supposed to be believable when their romantic and sexual intimacy is hindered by a LITERAL GHOST!!! its not even a true polycule, i would have loved that :(

i'm gonna watch YYY and see YoonLay's true chemistry there hopefully! and poppy is in that too, so at least i'll get some laughs out of it

if you read any of this, thanks for going along this madness with me *ghost perth wind wooshing sound* byyeeeee

i'm finally watching y-destiny after putting it off for so long, because perth is gonna do a video about it and i like understanding context

the first episode is just talay being sad for an hour while his boss obviously pines for him, and he's so good at being sad, my heart hurts T^T only one cute perthlay scene and then my boy perth is dead, he has two series where he ends up dead ( i hope this doesn't turn into a trend lol)

oh and poppy plays a magical homeless man in a terrible wig

other characters: just believe in miracles and also move on

masuk: no and no

jia: i so obviously love you

masuk: okay cool but im too sad and guilt-ridden to love you back

not enough cute perthlay scenes 6/10

[harley-sunday]

Fight for Your Right (to a party shirt)

Daniel Ricciardo once said: “Alright, so, you know it when you see it. You know, some people will wear, they call it, "Party Shirt," but it's not, it's like an old, Hawaiian dad shirt or something. Whether the buttons are too big, or the flowers just aren't the right flower, I don't know. So, you just know it when you see it. But when you see a good party shirt, it's magical. I’ve always got a party shirt. You gotta be merry, they could be an occasion. They don’t have to be as crazy as this one. They come in all shapes, sizes, colours, creations, but yeah, I uh, I certainly do have a collection of party shirts. I’m guilty for that.” 

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader (F)

Warnings: Language.

Word count: 3.3k

AN: No thoughts, head empty, just Dan and his party shirt. Enjoy.

“I’m gonna go grab another beer,” you tell your best friend, who just shakes her head and points to her ear to let you know she hasn’t heard you over the loud music that has been playing all night. Maybe if you weren’t four beers in already you’d worry about someone filing a noise complaint but then again, you don’t live here and so it’s really not your problem if they do. You’re on the other side of the city, somewhere in the outskirts of Wooroloo, although in all honesty all of Wooroloo is nothing more but an outskirt of Perth, and despite the closest neighbour living at least one k away you’re sure they’re able to enjoy the thumping bass as far as inside their living room it’s so loud.

The reason you’re here, in the middle of nowhere, is a party hosted by your best friend’s brother’s girlfriend’s brother. Or something like that, anyway. Not that it matters. What matters is that your beer is empty and so you try again, a little louder this time, “Gonna go grab a beer!”

Jess, still dancing, shakes her head.

You can’t help but laugh and hold up your empty beer bottle, pointing at it as you mouth, “Right back.”

Finally she nods in understanding and dismisses you with a wave of her hand before she turns around and starts jumping up and down to the chorus of Chumbawamba’s ‘Tubthumping’ with some people you’ve been introduced to earlier but you don’t remember the names of anymore. Dodging other groups of laughing and dancing people you make your way towards the house, to where a drinking station has been set up. There’s a variety of liquor and mixers on the kitchen counter and the fridge is filled to the brim with bottles of beer. You’re not sure who’s on restocking duty, but whoever it is they’re doing a terrific job because not once during your previous four beer-runs have you seen the fridge even halfway empty. 

Taking two beers, one for Jess just in case she wants a refill, you turn around and head back outside, finding your best friend exactly where you left her. You hand her the beer and it’s then the guy behind what is supposed to be the DJ booth, but instead is just a garden table with a laptop connected to some speakers on top, announces that he’s gonna start the eighties hour of power, which is met by loud cheers from pretty much everyone. You have to hand it to him, the guy, Jocko you think he’s called, knows his classics and knows how to crowd-please, Joan Jett’s ‘I Love Rock and Roll’ now blasting through the speakers and, like so many times before this night, you can’t help but sing along at the top of your lungs. 

=X=X=

It’s when you and Jess are in the middle of a very aggressive rendition of the Beastie Boys’ ‘Fight For Your Right’ that you feel someone tapping your shoulder and so you turn around even though you don’t stop whatever it is you’re doing. ‘Cause it sure isn’t singing or rapping. Screaming, most likely. You’re a little surprised to find a guy you don’t recognize standing behind you and become even more confused when you see the way he’s absolutely beaming at you. 

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps smiling at you, and so you raise an eyebrow at him, not sure what it is he wants from you until he steps aside and, like a magician, holds out his arms to reveal what, you’re not exactly sure. But then, then, another guy steps into view, his smile even brighter than the first guy, and you can feel your eyes grow wide when you see what he’s wearing.

As if on cue the song fades out and so they can actually hear you when you blurt out, “No way!”

Guy number two just nods, “I know, right? What are the fuckin’ odds?”  

You just stare at him in disbelief, shaking your head and trying not to smile when finally you say, “Well, one of us is gonna have to go change.”

He lets out a honking laugh, drawing the attention of the people around you and slowly more and more heads turn your way. “I’m not taking this off, babe,” he says with a grin, a defiant look in his eyes, “this is my party shirt.”

“No. No, no, this is my party shirt,” you challenge, folding your arms in front of your chest in a way that you hope will let him know you won’t back down that easily and to emphasise your point you throw him a wink, “babe.” 

The staredown that follows lasts at least a few seconds, with you biting your lip to keep from laughing and him still looking at you with a spark in his eyes as if this is the best thing that has happened all night. It allows you to really look at him and you’d be lying if you say he wasn’t attractive. He looks like a cheeky schoolboy, standing there with that stupid, shit-eating grin, but there’s something about the way he’s built that makes you think he might be an athlete, his tan arms and legs muscular but slim and you sort of want to know what he looks like underneath all those clothes. Rock hard abs probably, you muse, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. He has a good head of hair too, you realise once you’ve let your eyes wander over his face, and, blame it on the almost five beers you’ve had, but you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him on top of you, your hands running through his curls and-

It’s then the music is cut off completely and Jocko’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, “Looks like we got ourselves a standoff, people.” He nods towards where the two of you are standing, everyone now turning your way and you think you hear Jess whisper a quiet, “Oh, shit.”

“One of them is gonna have to take it off,” Jocko says and there are a few loud cheers coming from people who seem to agree with him. 

“There’s only one way to settle this,” an unfamiliar voice pipes up from next to Jocko and when you look over to your right you see the guy who introduced you to your party shirt twin a few moments earlier has now found his way behind the DJ booth as well. He scans the crowd with that same beaming smile he had when he came up to you and screams, “Beer pong!”

The crowd whoops and cheers in response and before you even have time to protest two guys carrying another garden table make their way to the front and start to set up a game of beer pong with an efficiency that’s almost scary. 

Jocko waves you over then and you shake your head to let him know this isn’t really a good idea, but all around you people are starting to cheer you on and then Jess pushes you forward and you mutter a quiet, “Fine, fuck it,” not bothering to see if the guy is following you or not.

He is.

Jocko motions for you two to stand on either side of him and then brings his finger to his lips to silence the crowd who are all watching intently. He points to your opponent then, “Tell the people who you are, what you do, and why you deserve to win, my friend.”

“I’m Daniel, thirty-three years of age” the guy says without missing a beat, “I drive fast cars for a living, and I deserve to win because-” he leans forward then and throws you a wink, “-I’m not wearing anything underneath this shirt.”

The crowd roars but you just laugh back at him, “And what makes you think I am?”

Daniel’s eyes widen in shock just a little but enough to let you know you’ve thrown him off ever so slightly, which you plan to use to your full advantage. 

Jocko turns to you then and nods to let you know it’s your turn. You clear your throat and introduce yourself before you tell them, “I fly planes for a living-” you risk a quick glance to your right and see Daniel’s eyes widen even further before he nods appreciatively, “- and I deserve to win because I didn’t come here to fuck around.”

“Alright, rules are simple,” Jocko says, more to the crowd than to you. “You hit your shot, your oponent drinks and-” he draws out before he hushes the crowd with a finger to his lips, waiting before they’ve settled down before he continues, “has to undo a button!”

=X=X=

“Jesus, you suck at this,” you tell Daniel from across the table when he misses yet another throw, leaving your six cups untouched while you’ve already made him empty three of his. 

“Just need some warming up, babe,” he counters with a grin, laughing then when you miss your shot too. “Was I too distracting?”

“Nah, babe,” you tell him, the banter between you flowing effortlessly ever since this whole thing started. You roll your shoulders in an effort to loosen up your muscles some more, “Just trying to not make you look like too much of a loser.” 

Something changes in his demeanour then and he plants his feet a little wider apart, looking more determined than ever to get a ball in, even closing one eye to get his aim right. Still he misses and you can hear him mutter a quiet, “Fuck.” 

“Oh no,” you pout, teasing him as you line up your next shot, “it’s ok, baby. I’m sure you have other talents.”

“Make your next shot and maybe I’ll show you,” he says with a wink.

You laugh at his innuendo and throw the ping pong ball, landing it into his fourth cup with ease, “Don’t make any promises you can’t keep, Daniel.” 

The crowd surrounding the table cheers him on as he shots his beer, laughing when he makes a face once he’s emptied the cup. He runs the back of his hand over his mouth and looks at you as he opens the fourth button of his shirt, only two remaining now. You can’t help but stare at his tanned chest and he snaps his fingers to get your attention, shaking his head as he points two fingers at you before he turns them at his face, “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” 

You grin and take a step back, simply holding out your hands in front of you to show him the six still full cups on the table and watch him as he once again lines up for his next shot. This time he does make it and the crowd around you goes wild, a few guys slapping his back and shoulders. You shrug and take the cup, fishing out the ping pong ball before you down the drink in one go, throwing him a wink when you toss the cup aside and you undo the first button of your shirt. When you arrived at the party, Jess tied the lower part of the shirt around your waist in an attempt to make it appear a little less baggy and so you only have three more buttons to go before it gets critical but still you’re confident you’ll have beaten him before that happens. 

=X=X=

Of course you spoke entirely too soon because you missed the next three shots in rapid succession while Daniel nailed his, giving you a taste of your own medicine when he tells you it’s ok and not to worry about it. And so here you are, a few minutes later, three drinks in, and only one button away from where it’s tied, silently thanking whatever god there may be that you decided to wear your new lacy black bra tonight and not the skin-coloured one you usually have on under your uniform. 

“Come on, babe,” Daniel teases, his eyes locking on yours even though you’ve already seen him glance down your shirt a couple of times already, “show me what you got.”

Taking a deep breath you raise your arm and aim at the cup on the right, which is a bit closer to you than the one in the far left corner of the table. When you throw the ball you are certain you’ve missed completely but by some sort of miracle it lands in the other cup and so Daniel has to take another shot and undo another button. You raise your eyebrows at him, “You were saying?”

“Nothing,” he says once he finishes his drink. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.” 

He must have finally found his groove because he makes the next shot as well and so you finish your second-to-last beer, now tied with him in what the crowd thinks is the most epic game of beer pong they’ve ever seen. They’re quiet now, watching the both of you intently, and you can’t help but feel the pressure as you undo the final button.   

“You got this,” your best friend says from somewhere beside you  just as you get ready to release the ball from your hand and it throws you off just enough that you miss your next shot. 

“Fuck yeah!” Daniel pumps one fist in the air as if he’s already won and blows you a kiss, “You are so going down.” 

You just look at him and watch as he picks up another ping pong ball, lines up his shot, and moves his arm back, ready to throw. It’s at that exact moment you undo the knot that ties your shirt together and let it fall open while you lean forward ever so slightly, giving him a perfect view of the swell of your breasts inside your bra. As if in slow motion you see Daniel’s mouth fall open just as he makes his throw, too shocked by what you just did to properly throw the ball and so it lands somewhere in the middle of the table before it rolls off into the grass rather unceremoniously. 

“Ha! Sucker!” You stick out your tongue at him and high five some of the people on your left. 

“That is so not fair,” Daniel exclaims, looking around him to see if anyone will back him up, “right?” He looks at Jocko then, “Tell me that wasn’t an unfair advantage, mate. I should get a do over.”

Jocko just shrugs, “I don’t see the problem, bud.”

“Oh, come on!” Daniel throws his hands in the air and turns his back at you to see if maybe anyone behind him will agree with him. 

No one does and so you try to make the most of this temporary distraction by taking a few deep breaths, knowing that it’s now or never. Not in the least because all the beer you’ve drank so far is starting to go to your head and you can feel yourself on the tipping point between tipsy and drunk, knowing that once you’ve tipped over to the drunk side you’ll never make another shot again. You wait until Daniel turns back around again so you can continue the game but he’s arguing with someone over the rules of beer pong and whether distracting your opponent is or isn’t allowed and so you snap your fingers to get his attention.

When he doesn’t hear you, or pretends he doesn’t, you retort to calling his name, over and over again, each time a little louder than before, “Daniel. Dan? Dan! Daniel! Oi!” Still he doesn’t listen and you turn to the crowd on your right, “Anyone know his full name?” 

Some guy nods and when he’s told you he looks at you expectantly, no doubt wanting to find out what’s going to happen next.  

You take another deep breath and then use what your friends like to call your ‘mom-voice’ even though you are definitely not a mom and only ever use it when they’re drunk and you try to get them all home safe. “Daniel Joseph Ricciardo!”

He turns around instantly, looking absolutely horrified, muttering a quiet, “Jesus Christ, you’re scary when you do that.”  

“Stop whining and let’s get on with it,” you tell him as you show him the ball you’re holding. “We’ve got a game to finish.”

He stares at you for a few seconds but then seems to regroup and waves his hand at you, “You’re already half-naked, babe. I think we can safely say I’ve won, nah?”

You don’t say anything and instead just throw the ball you were holding while you keep looking at him, blowing him a kiss for good measure. It’s a bold move and you know it and so time seems to actually slow down, each tenth of a second that passes feeling like a minute, but then you hear the sweet sound of a ping pong ball landing in a red solo cup that’s filled with beer. The crowd all around you goes absolutely crazy and even though you try to play it cool, as if you knew you were going to make the shot all along, you can’t help but join the celebrations, hugging Jess as both of you jump up and down to celebrate your win. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jocko says then, grabbing a hold of you and lifting your right arm in the air just as MGMT’s ‘Kids’ starts playing. “We have a winner!”

=X=X=

Daniel finds you in the crowd not much later, his shirt now hanging wide open, and holds out his arms to you for a hug, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you say as you step closer to him, letting him throw his arms around you as you sneak yours under his shirt and around his waist, because fuck it. He’s all muscle you find out then, his abs as rock hard as you thought they’d be and yet there’s a softness to him that makes you want to never let go. Instead you simply say, “Told you I didn’t come to fuck around.”

He chuckles as his cheek brushes against yours, his warm breath hitting just below your ear when he whispers, “I think it’s only fair if I show you some of my other talents now.”

“Don’t make any promises you can’t keep, Ricciardo,” you remind him. 

“Not if you’ll let me kiss you.”

You smile even though he can’t see you, “How could I resist?”

He pulls back a little, his hands now cupping your face and so you slide your hands from his back to his sides and over his abs to his chest, where you rest your fingertips against his pecs. When he looks at you he raises one eyebrow, silently asking for permission, before he looks at the crowd that’s still around you.

You shrug as if to say, fuck ‘em, because most of them have gone back to dancing and drinking anyway. You don’t miss the way his eyes light up when you do. 

He lowers his head and finds your mouth with ease, his nose bumping against your cheek as he lets his lips brush against yours, his kiss soft and gentle at first. His lips are surprisingly soft and you swear you taste a hint of Australian Gold’s kiwi lime lipbalm when you run your tongue over them. 

He opens his mouth then and Jesus, you’re gonna need something to hold onto because you can feel your knees starting to go a little weak. You find the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you just in time, because your tongue finds his then and it’s all teeth and tongue from there on out. When, after a while,  he takes your lower lips between his teeth and gently pulls on it you let out an involuntary moan, chasing his mouth with yours when he lets go. 

You think you hear someone shouting something about getting a room then and it makes Daniel pull back a little, a mischievous look in his eyes, “Maybe we should, eh?” 

He’s panting, trying to catch his breath, his voice’s a little rough and God, does it make you feel good, knowing you’re the one responsible for all that. 

You grin at him, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods and gives you a quick kiss before he puts his mouth to your ear again, his voice low and full of promises, “You didn’t come to fuck around and well,” he drops his voice even further, “-kissing isn’t the only thing I’m talented at, babe.”

[pacinothot]

Domestic!Dan

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: This is based on a request by the lovely @riccivergne:  “ bestie, a request for your writing: you and daniel being domestic. give me all the fluff you can give 🤍”. So, here it is: three different domestic scenarios with our mans, all cavity inducing and fluffy. 

Being in a relationship with Daniel is demanding, even difficult at times. He has a busy schedule, filled with races all over the globe, working out, and his different business ventures that all need tending to. Now that you’ve become official you get to at least travel with him to the races, but then again, you don’t really get to see much of him. On the other hand, it means that you have enough time to focus on your job and the free space you need in a relationship.

Over the months you’ve been dating, you’ve really grown to cherish the time you have with your man. The small things - like shopping for groceries, or cooking dinner together, even just binge watching a show on Netflix - have become special, at least in your relationship. You suspect that’s the case for most people in long distance relationships. 

There’s just something so heart wrenchingly warm about domesticity - especially when both of you make time for each other.

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

It’s the first official day of the winter break. 

Michael has taken his annual leave and is staying with his family; you won’t see him until late January. Blake has decided to spend the holidays with his family, too, so for the first time in what feels like forever, Dan and you have the house to yourself. 

You’re still slightly jetlagged and cursing yourself for offering to host Christmas Day for Dan’s family. Supermarkets are a minefield before Christmas, whether you’re shopping for shrimp or turkey. 

Sat at the kitchen island, you go over the grocery list once more, checking that you haven’t missed any vital ingredients. Daniel walks in and notices the tired look on your face. He steps behind you and places his large hands on your shoulders. You melt into his touch as he starts to massage your tight muscles. 

“No need to get stressed out, it’s just a barbecue babe,” he reminds you. 

“I know, but a barbecue also needs stuff to go on it.” You retort. 

“The sooner we leave the quicker we’ll get it over with,” he says, grabbing his car keys.

Grocery shopping with Daniel is an adventure; it starts with him picking out the perfect soundtrack for your drive there - he even lets you pick out songs. He refuses to let anyone else play their music even in their own car, and that knowledge fills you with warmth. No matter how bad of a day you’ve had, Daniel always manages to make you laugh with his silly dance moves and bad singing. He is like sunshine in human form and it’s bloody infectious. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood with him around. 

At the supermarket, you sometimes feel like a mother trying to reign in their unruly toddler. Whether it’s Dan pronouncing product names in a funny voice or cruising along the aisles with the trolley, you have a hard time not bursting into laughter and staying on task. If he wasn’t so charming you’re sure you’d be annoyed, but then again, Daniel is the first person to apologise if he realises he’s taking things a little too far. That’s the grown up side of him. 

Today, he’s decided to behave himself - he knows you’re stressed because you want to impress his family by being a brilliant hostess. The thing is though, they already adore you. 

“Fuck, they’re all out of sugar,” you sigh. “Guess we gotta go to another store.”

Dan hugs you from behind, glancing at the shopping list in your hand. He loves your handwriting; it’s pretty, yet forceful, but not chaotic like his. But you scribbled this list on the flight back to Perth - the words are still legible, but some of them are slightly smudged, and others are slightly slanted. 

“We can ask my mum or sister to pick some stuff up too, you know,” he mumbles against your cheek. 

“They’re our guests, Dan.” 

“So? They’re gonna bring stuff regardless, might as well ask for something we need.” He looks down at you, frowning at the worry lines on your face. “It’s been a busy year and I don’t want you stressing over Christmas, alright?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek mulling it over. 

“If we can’t find everything we need at the other store, then we can ask them.” You finally say. 

Dan’s face lights up and he pecks your cheek. You giggle. His heart swells at the sound. 

“Here, let me help you,” he says, taking the shopping list from you. 

Back at home, you put away the groceries as Dan calls his mum. You smile as you listen to her berate him for not asking for help sooner. 

“Well, Y/N didn’t want me to ask, because you’re our guests.” He says, grinning at you. 

“Silly girl. We’re family, we’re supposed to help each other,” Grace says and you can’t help but smile so hard your face hurts. 

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

It’s pasta night. 

Every single week, the two of you try out a new recipe. It’s a fun way to spice things up. Besides, the kitchen is your happy place. Daniel’s not much of a cook, so you do most of the cooking - he does help with preparing the ingredients, though. 

Tonight, you’re making spaghetti cacio e pepe. It’s a simple dish, but one of your favourites. As you’re assembling the ingredients for the meal - spaghetti, salt, pecorino, pepper - Daniel keeps following you. There’s this special talent he has: wherever you need to grab something from - whether it’s the fridge, a cupboard, or a surface - he always manages to stand in front of it. 

“Babe, I need to get the cheese out of the fridge,” you look up at Daniel, his eyes full of mirth. And so begins your little routine.

You scrunch up your nose in playful annoyance, and Daniel dips his head, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. Then he places a gentle kiss to your nose, before his lips finally find yours. He tastes like tea and mint gum, and something that’s uniquely him. You could get lost in his taste forever. 

He turns, letting go off your hips, and grabs the pecorino from the fridge. 

“Here you go, love.” He hands it to you with a smug grin. Bastard.

This little game lasts until you’ve assembled all the ingredients. Then, Daniel sits down on one of the stools on the other side of the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone. A little while later, music starts playing on the sound system he’s installed. You can’t help but giggle as you watch him get up and start to dance. Daniel dances like a drunk frat boy, even when sober, but it’s obvious that he knows he’s a terrible dancer, which makes him even more adorable. As he dances, he makes his way over to you. When he reaches you, he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his trained chest against your back. He slowly sways you to the rhythm of the music, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His beard tickles your sensitive skin. 

“Daniel,” you warn. “No funny business.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” he retorts, but mischief is laced in his voice. 

“Mmh,” you hum, feeling him smile against your neck. “If you’re a good boy during dinner, you’re gonna get a well deserved dessert.” 

He groans against your neck and you giggle. His praise kink is his handicap.

When the timer you set for the pasta goes off, he reluctantly lets go of you. 

“Can you set the table?,” you ask, as you drain the pasta.

“On it.” 

As he places the plates and the cutlery on the dining table, Daniel watches you finishing the meal. He loves how much you love cooking - not just because you’re great at it, but because you do everything with such care. Even Michael, who usually cooks for him during the season, likes cooking with you, and he can’t stand having people in the kitchen with him. 

He pours two glasses of his own Cabernet Sauvignon just as you carry the large bowl of pasta over to the table. And suddenly he is hit by one of his earliest memories: his parents making dinner, his sister and him sitting at the dining table and watching as his father poured wine into the expensive wine glasses they rarely ever used, while his mother came over to the table with a giant bowl of spaghetti and tomato sauce. Nothing about this meal was particularly special, but somehow, the care his parents had put into it was. So much so that he remembered it over twenty years later.

He sits down opposite you, reaching out to take your hand in his. 

“Y/N,” he says, eyes bright, “I love you.”

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

It’s Monday - or Podcast day, as it’s known in your household.

Dan is listening to one of his favourite MMA podcasts as you walk downstairs. He greets you with a quick kiss and hands you a cup of tea. You thank him, stifling a yawn. 

Then you sit down at the dinner table, where your Macbook, headphones and a glass of water are waiting for you. You log on, put your headphones on, stretch your arms and back, before opening up iTunes and pressing play on the latest episode of your favourite true crime podcast. 

This particular episode is quite graphic, and you’re only a few minutes into the podcast, when you feel yourself grow cold with fear. Your eyes grow wide, goosebumps erupt on your skin. 

Across the room, Dan notices you stiffening up in your chair. He gets up from where he’s sitting and walks over to you. He squats down in front of you, looking up at you. Concern is written all over his face. You stop the podcast and drop your headphones, and he takes your free hand in his.

“You okay?” He asks, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

“Uh, yeah. This episode is just a little intense,” you admit. 

“I will never understand why you’re so into true crime and thrillers and shit,” he shakes his head, but smiles in spite of himself.

“Says the adrenaline junkie,” you tease. 

“Fair,” he mumbles. “Want me to sit down with you?” 

“Nah, I’m okay,” you reassure him, but mostly yourself.

“You’re like”, he turns to look at the screen, “10 minutes into this podcast and it’s over an hour long, hun.” 

“Fine,” you roll your eyes and he squeezes your hand. 

Daniel giggles and you poke your tongue out at him, causing him to laugh even harder. It’s your favourite sound in the world. 

The two of you stay sitting there, listening to your podcasts. Whenever Daniel notices that anxious expression on your face again, he squeezes your hand. If one of you runs out of coffee or tea, the other one gets up to replace it. It’s something you do without consciously thinking about it.

Tags:

@supernaturallymarvellous​  // @scotlynaurora​ //

[shanaraharlyah]

Return to Redcliffe - The Stolen Kiss

The continuation of Teagan and Ysmeria's story. There are some things I think I want to expand on, like the dinner, but I don't want to hold off posting any longer. More below the cut as things start to get spicy. First part and artworks can be found here. I intended to use my updated Ysmeria model for the renders, but recent updates to Nvidia's Iray engine have changed how lighting works and I can't get the same lighting effect now, so here we are. --- Dinner that evening went well, all things considered. It wasn't a grand banquet, but it was more than Ysmeria and her companions had had in weeks and the company was pleasant. Isolde remained upstairs with Connor, but Teagan and Ser Perth joined them. The wardens recounted their experience at the Battle of Ostagar, which only reconfirmed Teagan's suspicions about Loghain. To lighten the mood, Teagan regaled them with stories of Alistair's childhood, much to the latters chagrin, and some from his own youth. The group ate their fill and had some laughs along the way before they decided to retire for the evening. Taking a chamberstick with him, Teagan led them to the guest quarters where they would be staying. Many of the halls had already been darkened by the servants, a few candles still casting their warm flickering light across the cool stone walls. Additional light spilled out onto the floors through the doorways of the rooms prepared for the Warden and her companions, so warm and inviting after their days spent on the road and nights at camp. As Ysmeria’s companions began to turn in for the evening, closing the doors behind them, Teagan set the chamberstick down on a side table nearby. He reached for her hand, stopping her from leaving the hall, "I just wanted to thank you again for taking that chance to save my nephew. You knew the risk, yet you still put Connor's life first. My family and I are forever in your debt." He brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss, "Your courage and beauty are unmatched, my lady." With that he stepped nearer to her, emboldened by the wine he'd consumed with their dinner. Her heart began to race. He was so close now, and so attractive and charming and a noble. How could any woman resist? Not that she wanted to. She found herself thinking about him so often these past weeks, ever since they’d met in the Chantry. When she'd asked about his family, she hadn't expected the response he'd given her, nor his interest, and now she couldn't get him out of her head. To be sure, as a circle mage, she never really expected to find love, nor to be allowed it. As she slowly regained her composure, she responded, "You flatter me again, my lord, though I could say the same of you." She smiled back at him, tucking her chin like a bashful young girl. "You find me handsome?" he queried, raising an eyebrow and stepping closer again until there was not but a hair's breadth between them, "And brave?" He placed one hand on the small of her back and tipped her chin up with the other to look into her vibrant, orange eyes, the flickering candlelight making them sparkle. "I do," she replied, sliding her arms up his chest to wrap around his neck. A smirk crossed his handsome face and he dipped her backward, holding her up with one arm and planting a passionate kiss on her dark lips. His lips quivered as they earnestly reached for hers. He had been holding back for weeks and he couldn't help but make the most of the moment he feared would not last.

With their bodies pressed together, Ysmeria could feel his manhood through his trousers as it brushed against her thigh. The contact startled her, but also piqued her interest and a growing desire to have all of him closer to her.

Just as quickly as it began, Teagan pulled back, placing her back on her feet, "I do apologize, my lady. That was too bold..." His apology was cut short as she lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and stealing another kiss. It was all he could do to keep his balance and wrap his own arms around her to hold her up to his height. His lips tasted salty and sweet from the dinner and sweet wine they'd shared that evening, and she could not get enough.

When he finally lowered her back to her feet and they came up for air, he asked, "Are you sure this is what you want, my lady? What about my nephew?"

She looked at him quizzically, cocking her head to one side, "Your nephew?"

"Alistair. He may not be blood related, but I consider him so all the same. I've seen the distressed look on his face when you and I… share one of our moments."

"Oh," she replied, lowering her eyes a moment before continuing. "There is nothing between us, if that's what you mean. He is my friend, yes, but I don't believe I've ever given the impression we are anything more. As for your other question, this is exactly what I want, if you will have me, my lord." She slid one arm around his waist and cupped his face with the other hand.

Teagan leaned into her touch, the stubble on his chin rough against her soft palm. "Then let us retire for the evening," he suggested, taking her hand in his and kissing it again. She nodded letting him lead her into the small room at the end of the hall.

Closing the door behind them, Teagan turned back to Ysmeria and, brushing the hair away from her face, began to caress her cheek. She closed her eyes enjoying the feel of his strong but gentle touch. His hands were slightly rough, which surprised her since he was a noble, but then she remembered his story about the Grand Tourney. He was a more seasoned fighter than he had let on when he modestly told her that she and her companions were more skilled in combat. The feel of his hands suggested he'd kept up with his own training over the years.

Their moment was soon interrupted by a scratching at the door. Ysmeria had forgotten that she'd brought Fen'Harel along with her. He'd been so well behaved at dinner and usually just followed her everywhere. "Fen'Harel," she said to the startled Bann as she moved to open the door and let him in. "He's not used to being away from me." The mabari rushed into the room and began to growl at Teagan.

"Oh shush!" Ysmeria scolded him. "You know Teagan! He's not going to hurt me."

Fen'Harel cocked his head and whimpered apologetically.

Ysmeria bent down to give him a scratch. "Have you ever been imprinted to a mabari, my lord?" she asked.

"No need for such formality, my lady, you can call me Teagan," he replied. "We do keep mabari, mostly for hunting. I've never kept one as a personal pet though," he said, leaning over to offer his hand to the dog.

Fen'Harel moved to snap at him and Ysmeria tapped him on the nose. "That's not nice! Teagan is a friend. He's not going to steal me away from you."

The mabari whimpered again then complied, allowing Teagan to scratch him behind the ears.

"He's very protective of me. At camp he either sleeps just outside of my tent to protect me, or cuddled in the tent with me. I think it's because I saved his life at Ostagar. He managed to survive the attack and to find me when we'd set out for Lothering."

Straightening up, Teagan replied, "That is very likely. They're a very intelligent breed. He knows you're responsible for his survival and he'll protect you from anything. He couldn't have imprinted on a more amazing woman."

Fen'Harel stood proudly beaming at the comment and Ysmeria blushed, turning to take Teagan's hand. It seemed so large compared to hers, but his touch was always soft and gentle. "Are you so gracious and complimentary to all of your guests? It's a wonder you haven't met the right woman to settle down with yet."

"Perhaps I have...," Teagan trailed off quietly, not sure how appropriate it was to say aloud. "Anyway, perhaps we should take this to my quarters then? The guest bedrooms are hardly big enough for so much company." He indicated the guest bed with a wave of his hand.

"Let me grab my pack," Ysmeria answered, moving toward the trunk where the servants had left her bag. "So, you have your own quarters here?" she inquired.

"I do," he replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. "Eamon has me stay often. The upkeep and defense of Redcliffe is no easy task, so I do what I can to aid him."

"But don't you have your own bannorn to answer to?" she wondered, joining him again, backpack in hand.

Teagan let out a hearty laugh, "Rainesfere? It practically runs itself. It's a small tract of land to the west of here, less than two days' travel on foot. If anything urgent happens that requires my attention, a runner or raven can be sent to me and I can be there soon enough. That is about the only reason I agreed to be its Bann." He offered his arm, which Ysmeria happily took and they set off down the hall toward the stairs to the family's private quarters, Fen'Harel trotting behind.

"So... you didn't wish to be a Bann?" Ysmeria asked, looking up at him while they walked.

"Maker, no," he answered, shaking his head. "You recall, I wanted to compete in the Grand Tourney, yes? THAT is my passion, not politics. However, I let my brother and his wife talk me into it somehow, and here I am." He paused a moment, then looked over at Ysmeria before continuing, "Of course, we may never have met had I not made that sacrifice."

Ysmeria smiled up at him, "Perhaps your Maker was smiling on you that day, knowing your choice would bring us together."

Her words stopped him in his tracks, but brought a smile to his face, nonetheless. What if it was true? Clearly every choice he'd made throughout his life had brought him to this very moment. Suddenly the missteps he'd made regarding the warden these last weeks seemed all the more meaningful, and he was glad for them. He hadn't the courage to tell her of his feelings outright, but his small gestures spoke loud enough for her to realize his feelings and allowed her to form her own opinion and feelings for him. Maker's breath, what a thought! "Perhaps you're right," he smiled, placing a hand on hers.

To be Continued.

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Cormac Mcnamara Fluff HC’s and SFW Concepts (x black reader for my inclusion) (heehee)

A/N: I spent some of my time off from the hellscape that is school on starting Foreign Exchange. Yeah, I don’t care much for Hannah, she only calls poor Cormac when she needs smth, and the poor thing gets led on so. Time for me to get my fluff fix in. He deserves all of the love and hugs. So, virtually, I’m gonna do that for my little cinnamon roll. I’d be friends with him if I went to school in Ireland for some reason.

@misskittysmagicportal you’re welcome lmao

Warnings: Menstruation, most likely a mention of racism bc i like to tackle issues head on, very very mild gore

Cormac is the softest little boy in town, let me TELL YOU.

I feel like he’d be so down for cuddles, or you just watching him fiddle with his technology.

Even if you understood jack shit about it, you’d put the effort in to learn about what polarizers are.

You’re an exchange student that knows NOTHING about the portal, you’re just from America.

On the day you arrive at Okeefee’s College, you were convinced you weren’t going to fit in.

You didn’t.

Half of the people there stared at you, and gawked at your accent, and how you enunciated your t’s and didn’t whistle your s’s.

Cormac was of course, out of the way, he’s not one to socialize, new student or not.

Of course, you were in the corner, even though you should’ve sat in the front of the class. Luckily enough, you didn’t have to do much, as new students always get a pass.

You stayed below the radar for the first couple days, and never seemed to notice Cormac looking at you in class, whenever you’d shy away from answering questions about yourself. He wasn’t too familiar with anyone too much different than the masses of the school, color, interest, speech.

You were thinking of taking the LONGEST of naps after your classes finished, but those plans were quickly changed. The both of you weren’t paying attention where you were walking.

He crashed into you to say the least, and the copy of “Astrophysics for People in a Hurry” fell out of your hands, your bookmark getting lost.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was-WAIT, you’re that new girl from America, aren’t ye?” Cormac said, readjusting his glasses. You nodded, and were perplexed at his new creation, it looked like a gramophone, but with a motherboard and an antenna.

He tried to hide it from you, but he saw your gaze constantly go back to the machine, even as he snapped in front of your face.

‘You alright there? Oh, you’re looking at this. You want to hang out with me over the weekend. Maybe you can catch up from your bookmark, while I work on this.”

You confirmed, and that’s how you two became polarizing pals.

Cormac may be smarter than the library, not the porridge one, and as quick as a whip, but do NOT be shocked. He is very socially inept, and a little behind on cues, and different things.

He almost touched your hair once, without your permission, but you stopped him right in his tracks.

“Cormac, do you want your hand maimed and chopped off, then hung from the top of the flagpole.” you said, giving him a death stare.

“N-no, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?” he asked, taking his hand away, putting it back on the screwdriver.

“Well, for starters, don’t touch my hair without my permission. It’s a no-no for all people, but for black people especially. We had to have our hair cut off completely. That was our culture, and it was ripped away because we were seen as less than, nothing but an animal. So, you, taking your hand, as clean as it may be, and putting it in the fruits of my ancestors’ labor. That’s disrespectful love.” you replied, turning a page.

He has no idea, (damn education system), but he continues to learn about different cultures, especially black culture, African-American culture. The War on Drugs. He comes to you close to every day with different factoids, a good amount of them you already know, but you’re still happy that he puts effort in.

He’s a very tall lad, so expect very warm hugs from him. After a long day of school, he walks over to you, wherever you may be, and hugs you, asking how your day was. You melt into the hug, and smile against him, marveling at how consistent he is.

In classes, if there’s an odd number of people left, it’s always you, he, and Hannah. Y’all get the work done quickly, and he even lets you join them when Orienteering.

Now, you’re one smart cookie. No matter race, everyone has the power to be as smart as they can be. As well as that, they can work damn hard to get there, through all the trouble and hatred. Every now and then, a teacher might shut you down. Ask Cormac if he knows, in which he responds, but always sends you a look of pity.

A teacher could go through all of the students in a class, and not get the right answer once, and your hand stayed up through every excruciating second of it. And, begrudgingly, the teacher asks you, in which you give the correct answer, and if even a *word* is out of place, you’re ridiculed.

That always tends to upset, you, ruffle your feathers, but you don’t give in, not until you’re alone, in your dorm. Crying at the unfairness, wishing it were different.

Or in Cormac’s arms, wetting his sweater, his brain moving a mile a minute to try to say the right thing. He always held you so gently, he’s used to it. His experiments could go wrong with a moment’s change. He’s used to being patient, and tender.

He’s always trying to ask you about life in America, trying to find out what you hated, what you loved. His curiosity was never ending, it seemed. Sometimes, though, he could get a little caught up with his words, and you’d giggle at him, and help him along. This typically happened when he was trying to ask you out to go to the courtyards, or to library dates. He’d sneak food to you, and you two would have picnics near the sheep.

Whenever there weren’t too many teachers around, and when Hannah was in Perth, you two would cuddle on the grass, and sneak cheek and hand kisses in every now and then.

He’s an EXCELLENT cuddler by the way, lots of space to appreciate.

He knew mostly where you would be, and you him, but every now and then, one of ye’ wouldn’t respond to emails, but it’s usually due to an upset stomach, or too much studying. This wasn’t going to be the case ever time.

You were usually very attentive during class, doing classwork, writing down notes. However, one of these days, Cormac could tell something was wrong. Your head was down, and your binder was pressed tightly against your abdomen. Every now and then, he saw you scrunch your face in what seemed like pain, but he couldn’t put his finger on what the problem was.

It was a Friday, so you were free, and you and Cormac had plans to sleep in, and have another sheep picnic. At the moment, however, all you wanted to do was take a big fat nap, and sleep through the weekend.

As soon as class ended, you bolted out of the door, and Cormac tried to catch up, but Tara teased him, saying that you’d finally grown up, and wanted someone better than him. Your body was still, however, in too much pain to do focus.

He tried to get to you, but you were moving too fast, already halfway up the steps. He saw a portion of your khaki skirt, was red, and he began getting concerned, thinking you had began dying.

When you finished your shower, and began soaking your skirt, gone but never forgotten, you saw a cluster of emails from Cormac, asking if you were okay, dead, angry at him. Or needed medical attention. You were brought to tears, and instructed him to meet you at 7:00p.m., in front of the boy’s shower room, typically where Cormac would take you to his room, where you’d fall asleep on his bed, book on top of your face. He’d want to take a picture, and did, leaving it above his bed.

He met with you, and when he asked you if you were okay, a particularly tough cramp hit you like a truck, causing you to crumble. You groaned at the pain, and Cormac followed you down, asking if you were okay.

“Cormac, I’m cramping, just some pain.” you whispered, holding back tears

“What’re the cramps from? You eat something weird?” he asked, looking at you with concern.

“No, I’m on my period.” you said, sitting on the cold floor.

“Oh, you mean...menstruation. When you shed your uterine lining because your egg wasn’t fertilized, so now it’s coming out of your...um...lady....parts.” he stuttered, a blush forming on his face, followed by a look of concern.

You laughed at his explanation, and confirmed his suspicions, until another cramp hit you.

“Oh goodness, you must be suffering. I’ve heard that menstrual cramps are sometimes as bad as heart attacks.” he said, beginning to rub your stomach, helping soothe the pain.

You nodded again, and he led you to his room, grabbing you spare chocolate from when you were craving due to PMS, (unknowingly). He heated up a towel, and tucked you into your sleeping bag, his parallel to yours.

Tears began to escape from your eyes from his gestures, and he reached over to dry them.

“It’s okay to cry. Especially if you’re in a lot of pain. I think that it’s absolute bollocks that you feel like there’s something wrong for you for simply being human. It’s like a punishment for not getting pregnant. You didn’t ask for it.” he replied, letting you lay on top of him for the time being.

You smiled against him, but sadly woke up to more bloody underwear, and realizing that you’d leaked on Cormac. You shook him awake, and he didn’t even begin to panic, handing you a pair of spares, and a product through the door.

“Just a bit o’ blood. Nothing bleach or peroxide can’t fix.” he said, hugging you once again.

Cormac is very hesitant to kiss you on the lips. You pecked him once, and that sent him up the wall. His ears turned even more red, and his cheeks lit up.

He responded to your laughter with multiple face kisses, eventually landing one at your lips, lingering for a moment.

You cheered for his confidence, and you two went to a picnic the next day, the sheep happy to have you two there.

You felt completely over the moon to have Cormac as your partner. Even if he was a little shit sometimes, you wouldn’t have him another way.

Masterlist

[the-trig-and-tonics]

Trig Point Premier League - Trig 4

Birchwood Park

After leaving the Upper Eaton trig, we started on our way to our next stop at Birchwood Park. The first part of the journey took us along a road where we spied a tall concrete pillar standing in a field. It caught our eye as it resembled a trig pillar. We spent a bit of time trying to work out why it was there.

As we inspected this interesting sculpture, we noticed down the hill some buildings which I thought looked like Abbotsholme School. I was particularly interested to know if it was the school as my niece lives and works there. Carol got a snap for me to show her, so we can find out if my inkling was correct.

After this pit stop, we were back on the road, running towards Roston. It was so interesting taking in new scenery and surroundings. It was not an easy run though, we just seemed to be going up, up, up. On one bank we could feel the gravity pulling us forward, the gradient was so steep. Hills never defeat us though and soon we were rewarded with spectacular views. It wasn’t long before we reached another local, landmark in the shape of a memorial built to remember Roston Airfield which had opened in 1916 and closed in 1918. We definitely had to have a few photos there.

We were now on the flat and running towards the reservoir which meant we were nearly at our second trig. We gained access through the reservoir gate and then hopped over a fence in the far corner. But where was the trig? Carol had read on Trigpointing UK that it was sitting in a hedge. There was a clearing where lots of hedges had been pulled out but we couldn't see the trig. The description had made out the trig was close to the reservoir but it wasn’t there so we started following another hedge up the field, peering in every gap. Suddenly we saw it, tucked in the holly hedge. We’d found it!

To the uninitiated, trigs might look all the same, but to us they are all unique. Because of their location, every trig is an individual structure and Birchwood Park was no exception. Some sit boldly, exposed to the elements but this one appeared to be shy, hiding among the branches. We had to tuck in, amongst the spiky leaves, to get our photos. After we had taken lots of shots we made our way out of the field and we could see the hedge, where we had found the trig, was running parallel with the road. As we set off, we scoured the hedge row and were rewarded with a final glimpse of this bashful trig, desperately trying to conceal itself in the bushes.

We had climbed so high to reach the trig I thought we would have a lovely downhill route stretching before us. Don’t get me wrong, there was some down hill but there was also a lot of uphill too. However, there were lots more interesting sights to see as we started to make our way back to Uttoxeter. As we ran through Marston Montgomery, we saw beautiful properties for sale and a sign in the Churchyard explaining about Commonwealth War Graves located there. We also came across a road sign telling us that Perth is 7857 miles away. Carol got a photo of me standing beneath it so I could send it to my son, who lives in Australia. When I told Kevin about it, he was impressed but said we now need to find one with Brisbane. We’ll keep hunting, Kevin!

As we ran on, we had a bit of a funny experience with two horse riders. There was a woman and girl ambling along on their horses and we seemed to be playing cat and mouse with them. They were in front and then we were. We reached a right turning that we had to take and at this point two riders reached the junction at the same time as us. I noticed they were not the two we’d seen before. We scooted on ahead and left these riders behind. We ran through the beautiful hamlet of Somersal Herbert (another place I’d never even heard of, let alone visited), turned a corner and there were the earlier two horse riders in front of us. We just couldn’t understand how they had got there so quickly. We just had to catch them up and ask how they had done it. Apparently, they had cut off before the junction where we had turned, meaning they had taken a shorter route. Carol was still perplexed though. She had thought the two riders we had met at the junction were the two earlier riders and was therefore even more amazed to see them in front. We had a laugh about it as we carried on with our run.

We made our way back into Doveridge along the old Derby route. We were nearly back but there was still one more point of interest to snap. As we made our way to the pathway which leads back to Uttoxeter we saw a sign saying Doveridge Burial Ground. It was just a piece of land that was blocked off with concrete boulders so no vehicles could get in. We wondered if it could be an ancient burial area. However, to date we have not found anything out about the place so if anyone knows the history of this land please let us know.

We were soon making our way back onto car park at Uttoxeter. Aching legs after a seventeen mile run but elated at what we had found during the morning. It certainly can’t get any better than this.

[theluckyshadow]

OC Headcannons

Jamie Song

Jamie Song, 10/01/2000, ♑️ 🇦🇺

Jamie is a born and raised Perth girl

Has one younger sister Quinncy / Quinn

She moved to Seoul on her own after passing her audition at Cre.Ker Ent. in late December of 2015 early 2016

Auditioned on a whim just because she likes music

She’s a trained ballerina and contemporary dancer before moving to kpop dance styles and western

Did a ballet performance for a show to prove she had actual training and that her pointe shoes weren’t for show and because she wanted to

Likes to go on runs and does 30-60mins of a fitness routine daily / when she can

She likes to be fit

She was added to The Boyz lineup because the managers mixed her up with another Jamie- he had just left the company too :(

Now the big joke is they all thought she was a guy when she joined and the full band name is clearly The Boyz and Jamie at this point 😂

Jamie likes to do boxing

Believes in the paranormal

Loves horror movies

It’s always a who loves horror better battle between her and Changmin

Her tag in the Generation Z video was : Jamie isn’t an object but a person.

“People always look at me and see a little girl or a woman and they can’t get passed that I don’t belong to anyone. I’m a person too.”

She’s debatably a very serious person

She doesn’t take shit and will fuck you up honestly

She’s actually super chill, has to mind her language all the time though- the amount of times she’s accidentally sworn whoops.

She joins Jacob and Kevin in a lot of their vlives with Eric joining sometimes so they call all talk in English together

She’s surprisingly not confident in her Korean so she’s always like “hey what does (random simple word) mean”

Like the other girls she’s a clothes stealer but at the dorms it is accidental

She’s the best cook at the dorm and will actually kick you if you step into the kitchen while she’s preparing a meal.

Mostly because she gets startled easily and goes into her own little world while cooking

Back stage it’s a game to see who’s stuff she can take and how long it takes them to notice its missing- Younghoon has taken the longest so far and Sangyeon the shortest

Has the funniest shocked reactions, her eyes widen a little and her nose scrunches in disgust ie a live show she didn’t know her back up dancers were removing shirts and got really surprised by it and went to hide behind Younghoon and Hyunjae

She’s not known to be a big people person but her best friend (since moving to Korea) Hyeji had a crush on Juyeon and the bitch managed to get them to start dating mwahaha

The Boyz

Sangyeon: he knows her choreo in her solo songs. Respects him as a leader but likes to make fun of him whenever she can. She has ZERO boundaries with any of the Boyz. Likes to call him dad but then thirsty fans took it out of context and she started calling him Hyung

Jacob: him, Jamie and Kevin make the dumbass trio when left alone for way to long. He’s quite soft spoken but somehow she just makes him louder. She relies on him for translations when her brain can’t keep up with them. He would like her to call him (1/3) Oppa and she does but only when it’s the two of them or if fans want her to say oppa

Younghoon: he’s scared of her. He’s like a gentle giant and has said multiple times of live that if he stays good she won’t kick is ass that’s all he’s scared of. He gets called (2/3) Oppa because he feels better when she calls him taht for some reason. Literally will never let go of him proposing to New or McDonaldo

Hyunjae: uses him as a shield. That’s it that’s the friendship. She stresses him out when she speaks English every time he screams her soul leaves her body for a moment. Gets called (3/3) Oppa as an apology for Jamie being a little shit

Juyeon: He knows the choreo to her solo stuff which surprised her. He makes her laugh sometimes. For some reason ever clip of the two of them is her pushing him, slapping his arm or pinching him

And well she got him and his girlfriend together (for maybe fic reference lol) so they are on great terms.

Kevin: they have maybe the funniest relationship song with Jacob and Eric in the mix. They have the exact same sense of humour when it comes to memes and old videos. While her humour is more on the dry side he makes her laugh so hard her lungs hurt. If she’s not with Jacob for translations it’s him. Calls him MoonMoon.

Remember that live where Kevin and Jacob absolutely lost it over someone’s laugh sounding like Hooohooohooo. Jamie was there patting their heads as they fell on her / doubled over laughing- she can hold her composure well enough-> until the end of the live that is

New: the only other person who knows her choreo in her own songs out of all The Boyz. She likes to pinch his cheeks and call him cutie. He always lets her get away with it though. He’s good at math and she’s highly analytical and together they hold the only brain cells she swears

Q: they have a funny relationship. During debut days she used to get him and New mixed up a lot and neither told New and if he knows he never said anything. When he’s lost she’s lost and can’t do anything anymore because she relies on the boys for things she doesn’t get

Haknyeon: dance battles. Just tiny ones that end in Jamie pushing him and calling him funny (Nick)names. He likes food... she likes food- she cooks the most though.

Sunwoo: these two bully each other all the time. They mock or jab at one another until someone gets hit- usually him because he hit her back a few times and he found out one she hit harder two somehow Sangyeon always knows always knows. Calls her Noona to annoy her. Rap battles

Eric: He acts like a little kid with her all the time, takes naps in her lap, gets her to buy him food. He’s milking attention from her because he knows she’s secretly weak for his cuteness. He will scream NOONA along with Sunwoo to get her attention even though she’s said dozens of times that they are the same age born the same year

Adding Hwall because he was apart of The Boyz and while I don’t know him well Jamie was in a group with him so I’ll do what I can

Hwall: judging buddies. They both judge everyone she’s more vocal about it though likes to squish his cheeks. Has also called her Noona to annoy her even though she’s only born Jan 2000

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.3

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 3 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3

Author: Gumnut

11 Feb - 23 Apr 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 2876

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph​. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

I’ve finally got my head back into this fic!

Many thanks to @scribbles97​ and @onereyofstarlight​ for reading through and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared at the two dots circling A Little Lightning.

Raoul Island sported some excellent scanning equipment and with John enabling access to Thunderbird Five, Gordon could see for miles.

He could even see the far off dot that was their ultimate destination tonight. Tracy Island was such a tiny smudge in the middle of the ocean, so much smaller than Raoul. A moment to acknowledge it and he realised he missed it badly.

Well, they would be home tonight if they got moving soon enough.

But the whales...

“Yeah, they are the same two from yesterday.”

Sam stared at him. “How can you tell?”

Gordon pulled up the feed from the Raoul sea buoy network ring. A hologram appeared of the mother and calf with just enough detail for Gordon to point out the healing net injuries on the little one.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, she was caught nasty.”

“Bastards.”

“Don’t worry, we got them. Hell, IR has identified the money responsible and we have our legal team in motion.” A polite way to say his beautiful girlfriend was wreaking havoc in a calm but final way only she knew how. He had no doubts there would be very little left of the Polominka guy by the time she finished with him.

And what was left would probably be swept up by Parker and deposited in the nearest trash can.

Gotta love a girl who knew how to get a job done.

“Gords, you with us?”

“Huh?” A blink. Sam was grinning at him as if he knew exactly what Gordon was thinking about. He glared at him.

It didn’t faze the man. “Penny for your thoughts?” That was followed by an outright snigger.

“Shut it, Samwise.” So, he flushed scarlet, big deal. Idiot.

“Hey, is it my fault you go all moony-eyed at the mere thought of your girl?” Sam’s smirk was glare-worthy. “So, do I get a chance to meet this legend of blonde and pink?”

The glare turned into a frown. “How do you guys know so much about me and Penny?” It wasn’t like he had posted a billboard to advertise what was a very new relationship.

Sam shrugged. “Mel heard you were injured, raised a ruckus and Lady Penelope fell out of the sky. Apparently, they get on like a house on fire.”

Gordon stared at him. “Penelope and Mel?”

Another shrug. “Don’t look at me. Liam and I were in Perth.” He poked Gordon in the ribs. “You need to find a way to let us know how you’re doing, man. The news nets were screaming about an injured Tracy brother. It took them hours to work out which one and during that time you had died and been reincarnated six times. You gave us a bloody heart attack. I know you have to be secret and all, but you’re my friend, Gords. Don’t do that again.”

A blink. “I’ll try not to.” But there would be no promises. “I’ll speak to John and make sure Raoul gets notified.” But there would have to be restrictions. Their privacy had to be maintained. Scott would be a challenge. “You have to realise that there is just us, and we prefer to play it close. The media sucks.”

“I bet.” Sam turned back to the holographic display. “They appear to be waiting for you.” A breath. “Extremely odd behaviour.”

“What do you think they want?”

Sam shook his head. “My initial suspicion is either you or Virgil. Scott said Virgil was trying to walk into the water. You yourself had very close contact yesterday. My guess would be they want to make contact again? But really, we know so little about cetacean reality, our interpretation is far too anthropomorphised to be considered.”

“Virgil said the mother spoke to him with emotion. That he received an impression from her singing.”

“A human interpretation. This is where linguistics between species breakdown. Points of reference. The cetacean environment is so different to ours, there is very little shared reference to enable translation.”

“But they are mammals like us, surely they feel emotion?”

Sam held out his hands. “I’m sure they do. Hell, I know they do. But how do you communicate emotion through dissimilar body structure? We primarily communicate through our facial expressions and body language. Across species we don’t have that avenue.”

“We have their song.”

“Yes, we do. But human communication is only five percent vocal.” Sam swallowed. “I have theories and suspicions that whales rely much more on sound than we do due to their environment, but research is difficult.”

“That is why you pounced on Virgil.”

A sharp nod. “This is a bloody breakthrough, Gords. It’s a first.” He prodded the display to bring up audio. “Your brother managed something no-one in the world has ever been able to do. We need him.”

Now that wasn’t a first. Virgil was needed on a variety of fronts daily, not the least of which was by his brothers.

“Take it slow, Sam.”

“I know, I know.”

“We should also speak to John. He’s our communications expert. Speaks a gazillion languages. He might be able to help.”

“How many is a gazillion?”

“That you will have to ask him. I’ve lost count and he keeps learning new ones. Useful on the job.” Gordon twiddled with the focus of the sensor array. The two whales continued their slow circle around A Little Lightning. “How do you think they will react when we return to the boat?”

Sam drew in a thoughtful breath. “Hard to tell. Humpback whales don’t tend to be aggressive. In fact, they are one of the gentlest species. The only cases of aggression I’ve encountered involve threat to an individual or a calf. Having said that, this behaviour is very unusual.”

“You want to come out with us?”

Pale green eyes shot at him. “You just try keeping me away. I’ve already got the inflatable ready.”

Gordon had to smirk. He had already figured he’d have company. Hell, Mel would probably want to come with, as well. Even if only to kiss Scott goodbye.

Hmm.

“Well, I guess we will find out.”

-o-o-o-

It was an hour before they made it out onto the water. Packing and the fact Virgil had fallen asleep, held them up.

Scott was missing for most of that hour and John refused to say where he was. Not that Gordon had to work too hard to guess with Mel missing at the same time. The less time spent thinking about his eldest brother getting ‘together’ with his friend, the better.

Alan surfaced talking a mile a minute about the telescope on the other side of the Island. Apparently, it was ‘brilliant’, ‘amazing’ and ‘John should get one’.

John’s response to that was two words, “Thunderbird Five’.

“Oh, yeah.” But Alan was undeterred. “I might get one myself.”

“Alan, you have access to Five.”

“Yeah, but it is so cool!”

John rolled his eyes and went back to packing.

Virgil woke eventually and stumbled off to the coffee pot. The expression on his face warned that any obstacles would be obliterated.

Even Sam read that one correctly.

Scott appeared in his running clothes shortly after. He was flushed and Gordon noted several suspicious marks on his neck.

That thought led in icky directions and he had to derail that train. But at least Scott’s mood appeared to have improved. He disappeared into the shower and emerged ever the efficient director of operations.

John was seen to roll his eyes again.

During this time, Gordon kept an eye on the whales. They were still circling when the Tracy brothers, Mel and Sam finally left the compound and made their way back to Fishing Rock.

“No.” Virgil’s expression was stubbornness itself. The skyrail loomed above him, the harness set and ready.

Scott’s shoulders straightened, lining up for a bullfight with his bull-headed brother. Gordon readied to intervene, but was pre-empted by John.

The astronaut stepped up to Virgil’s side and simply touched his arm. Brown eyes flickered and were caught by turquoise. The engineer’s lips thinned but John’s frown deepened just a little.

Virgil’s shoulders dropped along with his eyes. “Fine.”

John’s frown hit Scott between the eyes and big brother relaxed just a little.

Virgil was harnessed up without further protest.

Scott squeezed his arm gently before they released him onto the line and Virgil turned to stare at him as he disappeared into the foliage. Their luggage followed.

Mel stepped up to Scott, rather closer than necessary, noted Gordon. “Race you to the bottom?”

Scott’s first grin for the day spread across his face.

Gordon couldn’t help but smile with him.

A heartbeat and Mel and his eldest brother took off down the path.

Sam snorted. “They make quite a pair. I hope he knows what he has got himself into.”

John frowned a little, but it was Gordon who answered that one. “Does she know what she has gotten into?”

“I guess we’ll all find out.” With that Sam headed down the hill. Gordon, John and Alan trotted after him.

The reason for the impromptu foot race revealed itself when Gordon finally made it to the beach. Virgil was already out of the harness with no repeat of the dangling helplessly incident. Scott was laughing, obviously the victor, though the expression on Mel’s face had Gordon suspecting a little planning on her part.

But the best part of it all was the arm Scott had around his brother.

Oh, thank god. It sucked big time when the two eldest were at loggerheads. Nothing worked smoothly when Scott and Virgil fought. A glance at John and the small smile on his face only provided more relief.

Their inflatable was where they left it, secured and protected. Gordon examined it from bow to stern satisfying himself of its safety and he and John lugged it over the rocks and used the crane to lower it into the water. Sam and Mel were only a few steps behind with their own, much larger inflatable. Both boats were secured on the swell, Gordon jumping into his first to make it ready and help load their luggage.

Scott joined him a moment later as he and John helped Virgil to board. A grunt and his engineer brother made the stretch and holding himself, curled up in one corner. Alan climbed on board just as Mel joined Sam in their boat.

All secure, Gordon started the engine and turning the boat around, headed out towards the distant A Little Lightning.

-o-o-o-

He felt it as soon as he set foot in the boat. A deep hum in the soles of his feet.

His belly ached from the trip down and sitting in the boat itself wasn’t the most comfortable, but the inflatable was bare insulation from the water and it carried the sound he couldn’t hear.

Around him, his brothers chattered and settled. Virgil closed his eyes and just felt.

Water on rocks, water on boat, water on water, birds, the breeze….and a weaving hum. He frowned. No, two, there were two voices singing through his feet.

He cherished the accomplishment of identifying the soft interwoven-

Gordon started up the outboard engine and the boat shot out into ocean.

“No!” His hand shot out. “Stop!”

It was a sign of trust and instinct that had Gordon killing the engine at that simple word from his brother. Mel and Sam shot past them.

“Virgil?” Scott was frowning at him. “What is it?”

“No engine.”

“What? You don’t expect us to row all the way out there do you?” Alan’s eyes were wide.

Mel and Sam turned their boat back towards the Tracy’s becalmed inflatable. A word from Gordon over comms and their engine died under Sam’s hand. They coasted alongside the Tracys.

Virgil reached over the side and put his hand into the water.

Song sung up his arm and he closed his eyes again, noting the notes by intensity.

“What’s going on?” Alan’s voice was worried.

“Shh!” Gordon’s voice was quiet but sharp.

Virgil was suddenly surrounded by brothers. Gordon sat down beside him and Scott and John opposite. Alan hovered behind them.

“Thunderfish?”

Virgil didn’t hear his brother’s response, but the question wasn’t asked again.

“Virgil?” Scott’s voice was ever so quiet. “What is it?”

Opening his eyes caught concerned blue. “They’re singing.” He frowned. “Calling.”

“Calling? How do you know?” Gordon’s voice was just as soft.

Virgil turned to his fish brother, catching those curious russet-brown eyes. “I…I don’t know.”

“We need to get out to the boat, Virgil.” Scott, ever the goal orientated.

“No engine.”

Gordon shifted beside him and began unfastening oars. “Then I guess we are rowing out.” One oar free, he nudged his older brothers out of the way. Scott ended up beside Virgil and John beside Alan at the bow of the boat. With the second oar free, Gordon secured them and himself and dipped their tips in the water. “It’s been a while. Should be fun.” Swimmer’s shoulders bunched up and he took the first stroke, a second and then eased himself into a steady rhythm.

Beside them, Sam broke out their oars and followed.

It was slow, but steady going after that.

Virgil let his fingers trail in the water. Except for the water, wind and birds, it was peaceful, the song interweaving amongst it all as if luring him.

His eyes closed again.

A random beep and he opened them to find Raoul further away and John with his tablet out, a holoprojection above it. Four dots, two circling, two approaching.

Gordon smiled at Virgil.

And the song changed.

It was so sudden his heart missed a beat. Scott grabbed his arm. “Virgil?”

“Can you hear it?”

Scott just stared at him, but Gordon stopped rowing and tipped his head to one side. Behind him, John had a puzzled look on his face which was quickly replaced by one of concern. “The whales have stopped circling. They are headed this way.”

As his brothers turned as one to look in the direction of the yacht, Virgil realised they were closer to A Little Lightning than he had thought.

“Here they come!”

Virgil leant over the edge of the boat, ever aware of Scott’s grip on his arm, and caught sight of what was no doubt the mother whale as she passed under their inflatable. Virgil’s jaw dropped. She was massive. Sure, he’d seen her from a distance, holographically in scale up against his brothers, but to see her this close.

“Oh my god.”

“Are we safe?” Scott’s sharp words were aimed at Gordon.

“Humpbacks are gentle creatures. Generally, they only become aggressive in self-defence. We’re not attacking them.”

“But what are they doing?”

“They are curious.” The words fell from Virgil’s lips without much in the way of thought. The sense of the song had switched from calling to curiosity. He hummed the dominant audible melody. It was little more than a series of pulsating tones backed by the infrasound in his bones.

His hand was still in the water, still seeking the unheard notes when John drew in a sharp breath. “Gordon, move the boat!”

Their fish brother grabbed the oars, but before he could take a single stroke, something touched Virgil’s hand.

The mother whale surfaced, the tip of her massive chin lifting out of the water directly beside Virgil.

“Woah.” It was a whisper of wonder from Gordon.

Virgil, initially pulling his hand back in surprise, was mesmerised. The very colours he had painted barely two days ago, the shapes, the glisten, the immensity…

The all-consuming sound.

His fingers touched soft skin.

It felt like touching music.

He couldn’t help but respond, deep in his throat as best he could as the song shifted to one that echoed his amazement. The notes were organic, simple, yet complex and missing the sound he could not create.

Curiosity.

Puzzlement.

“Virgil?”

His voice wasn’t deep enough.

Or high enough.

“Virgil?” Someone was touching his cheek, a hand cupping the side of his face. He opened his eyes to find Scott in front of him, that ever-present worry on his face.

“I still can’t answer.” It was frustration and sadness all of his own.

“We’ll get you back on the yacht. We have the technology there.” Scott ever the enabler.

Ever the rescuer.

But suddenly his connection was lost. The song stopped and mother whale slipped beneath the surface. Virgil leant over the edge of the boat and might have followed if it wasn’t for that same grip on his arm.

There was an order from Scott that Virgil wasn’t focussed on, the oars cut the water and the boat resumed moving towards the yacht.

Virgil stared into the turquoise depths, lost without the buoy of the song. He sagged against the inflatable plastic.

“Gordon, faster!” It came from John. “She’s coming up again, but she’s not slowing down! Move!”

“I’m try-“

The whale hit the underside of the inflatable lifting it and all the brothers off the surface of the ocean for just a moment before tipping it over and throwing all five of them into the water.

-o-o-o-

End Day Four, Part Three.

[justanalto]

i was tagged by the wonderfully sweet @besidemethewholedamntime -- thank you so much!! <3 <3 <3

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?

I have a wet brush that’s bright blue, but I also have a hairbrush that’s red!

2. Name a food you never eat

uhhhh...olives, but only when they’re on their own. 

3. Are you typical too warm or too cold?

I’m always too cold. always, always, always. my fingers are currently freezing and so are my toes. I think it’s because there’s a loose draft in my room here somewhere, TBH. 

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

roses are red // 45 minutes ago // i was writing poetry // and answering all my asks in a row

i’ve been sending people asks in poetry form and they’ve been responding, LOL -- so there’s been a lot of poetry brain going on!

5. What’s your favorite candy bar?

either a nice dark chocolate bar or a green tea kit kat bar!

6. Have you ever been to professional sports event?

I’ve been to a few professional baseball games! gotta get out there and have some mass sports pride. one of these days, my american football team will be good again and I will get those tickets. 

7. What is the last thing you said out loud?

some half-hearted mumble-harmonizing to pentatonix’s be my eyes, so something along those lyrics!

8. What is your favorite ice cream?

either black raspberry (s/o to campus!!) or mint chocolate chip :) 

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?

a couple of sips of water, hehe

10. Do you like your wallet?

I do! It’s the first “grown-up” wallet I feel like I’ve ever had -- I bought it from camden market last year when I was in london, and it’s a nice pine shade of green and made of cork. unfortunately, because i bought it in london, it also means that it doesn’t hold american currency quite as well, but it’s okay, i make do, LOL! 

11. What is the last thing you ate?

my dad made spaghetti bolognese and I ate that with a hecking ton of bread. it was fantastic :) 

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

unfortunately, no :( i can’t remember the last time I bought new clothes. maybe january? february? before the pandemic started. 

13. What’s the last sporting event you watched?

I think...I know it was definitely a pats game, and I’m pretty sure we lost, so it’s somewhere along the lines of pats v. ravens, I think

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

extra buttery, even though it would probably murder me :’)

15. Who is the last person you send text message to?

@aleksandrachaev, and it was two thumbs-up emojis, LOL. 

16. Ever been camping?

I have! I went a long time ago, like nine years ago long ago, I think somewhere out west? I slept on an air mattress, went to an outdoor bathroom, all that fun jazz! and the bug bites, LOL. 

17. Do you take vitamins?

my mom: so you’ve got the probiotic, the vitamin c and the biotin...

18. Do you regularly attend a place of workship?

I don’t -- my dad used to go to church regularly, but other than that, I’ve never been to church and we’ve never been as a family. 

19. Do you have a tan?

i don’t know how this happened but I literally still have shorts tan from like, august. it is the middle of november, someone tell me how I got here. a couple of years ago, I burnt so badly on a trip to LA I was still seeing the tan months later, LOL. and most of the time, I have some fair flip-flop tan!

20. Do you prefer chinese or pizza?

chinese, because pizza has the ability to murder me

21. Do you drink your soda through a straw?

it it’s a takeout cup, then odds are good i’m drinking it through a straw, but other than that nope :) 

22. What color socks you usually wear?

white or grey, I think? i have some funky colored ones but i’m trying to change that

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

i’m having flashbacks to a conversation I had with a friend who laughed at me for going five miles above the speed limit -- yes, I do, but only the allowed five miles above the speed limit and none more

24. What terrifies you?

oh, no, you don’t want to ask me that, we’d be here all day...being abandoned, I guess? being left by the people I care about, becoming too attached to people because they can leave and hurt me, spiders, heights, the pandemic, being hated, being alone...my own emotions, sometimes. 

25. Look to your left, what do you see?

my tubby nugget! he smiles at me, and I feel a lil better :)

26. What chore do you hate the most?

i literally could not tell you how much I hate cleaning the grout in our bathroom tile. it is a CHORE. 

27. What do you think when you hear Australian accent?

the hemsworth brothers, but also someone I met abroad who was from perth and had the same name as me, LOL

28. Whats your favorite soda?

ginger ale! 

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit drive through?

depends on where I’m hitting, tbh -- if i’m in a hurry, we’re going straight through the drive-thru. but if it’s an event, then we’ll go in! have a fun time. sit for a while and talk. 

30. What’s your favorite number?

i don’t think I have one, actually?

31. Who’s the last person you talked to?

my dad, I’m pretty sure -- we talked about pandemic unemployment assistance :)

32. Favorite meal?

sushi, or whenever my mom makes steamed chicken. (i’m realizing it’s been so long since I’ve had that chicken and now I’m sad) 

33. Last song you listed to?

for real by lana condor

34. Last book you read?

confucius jane by katie lynch, just to see if the lesbians stood up to the pedestal i’d put them on -- and hell yeah, they did! 

35. Favorite day of the week?

right now, thursdays, because thursday is grey’s day! 

36. Can you say alphabet backwards?

probably, if you gave me enough time to think about it

37. How do you like your coffee?

like i like my men -- from afar, some of them are pretty, but do I actually like them? no

38. Favorite pair of shoes?

either my gray ankle boots I got a couple of years ago or my ‘gay lesbian snow boots’ that I use when it’s snowing something awful out, LOL!

39. Time you normally get up?

i’m supposed to be up at 8 am, but I’m usually up anywhere between 9 and 10am. I...need to change that, LOL. 

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunset?

i love both! but I like sunset because I’ve never specifically woken up to see the sunrise, i’ve only seen it out of coincidence because I pulled an all nighter to do work

41. How many blankets on your bed?

three, at the moment -- a costco blanket, my college blanket and a five-below blanket

42. Describe your kitchen plates.

white with a floral border

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment.

it’s lived-in -- we have a side table that’s always at the risk of a collapsing, a power strip that runs a kettle, microwave and toaster oven (you can never run two of them at once otherwise the strip shuts off), kitchen mats that will never get rid of their crumbs and a healthy, healthy pantry!

44. Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink?

either pink moscato wine or a rekorderlig cider! 

45. Do you play cards?

i used to a lot, when I was younger! when I got older I stopped finding people to be able to play them with, unfortunately. 

46. What color is your car?

silver! (even though I share it with my sister)

47. Can you change a tire?

no, but I’d definitely like to learn :)

48. Your favorite state or province?

new york or california, honestly. probably california. it’s the place I’ve felt the most free :) 

49. Favorite job you’ve had?

i’ve had a lot of internships but not a lot of jobs, but I’d probably have to say it was the one I had at dunks -- so many funny things and stories came out of it, and now I have enough barista experience to power my coffee shop fics for a lifetime! 

tagging: @agentmmayy @nazezdha321 @sadtunes @a-biochemist-not-a-bird @browneyedgenius @daisylincs @aleksandrachaev @missinglittlebritishfriend @hannahxowen @genderfluid-and-confuzled and anyone else that I missed -- you’re it!! (i’m truly sorry if I forgot you, I haven’t slept a lot in the last couple of nights fhdskjfhs) 

[emulateharry]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

So I made a goal for 2019 to post at least 4 pieces.  Here’s the first one in honor of Valentine’s Day.  It’s a little different for me.  Please let me know what you think.

I would never write anything if it wasn’t for the constant handholding and encouragement of my sweet friends @niallandharrymakemestrong and @melissas173.  Love you ladies!

Harry was having the time of his life.  The crowd was unreal.  From the moment the screen rose and they saw his kilt the screams hadn’t stopped.  The show was going so well and the synergy was palpable.  He was in the zone.   Sarah started the drum beat as he and Mitch made for the walk to the B stage or ‘the gauntlet’ as the fans called it.  He was about halfway between the stages when it happened. He was greeting fans and waving when he felt a strange sensation.  He had touched a fan’s hand and it was as if time wobbled; he saw everything in slow motion.  He looked to see her face and inhaled sharply. She was stunning.  He smiled as he locked eyes with her.  She blushed and gave him a dazzling smile in return.  It was so quiet like they were in a bubble of their own.  Sound flooded his ears as his security team moved him along and he broke contact with her. He glanced back but she was swallowed by the crowd.  He felt dazed and not a little confused. He stumbled but caught himself before he fell.  Climbing the steps to the stage, he felt Mitch’s hand on his shoulder and saw the concern on his face.  He shook his head a little and gave him a weak smile.  Turning to the mic he closed his eyes to gather himself.  He wanted, no he needed, to go back to her but the fans were waiting.  He took a deep breath and began to sing.

Harry could not get her out of his mind.  He would think he saw her face in the hotel lobbies everywhere he traveled but when he looked again she was gone.  At restaurants, he would see her waiting tables only to blink and have her vanish. It was unnerving.  He wanted to find her but how in the world did he do that? Find out about all 13000 fans who attended the show? No.  There was really no practical way to search for just another one of his fans.  He determined to forget her. It seemed to work, until Perth.

The Australian fans were wonderful.  He had a nice week off after the Dublin show and was refreshed and ready for the Perth crowd.  The show went smoothly and time flew by as it always did when he was performing.  He and the band were backstage after the show celebrating another continent conquered.  Some of the crew were there also and the room was a bit crowded. Harry had just drained his glass of champagne when he saw her.  She was in the corner of the room watching the fun.  He froze.  How? What was she doing here?  He blinked and looked again—she was still there. He got up and walked over to her, almost gasping at the dazzling smile she gave him.  They stood in silence just smiling at one another until Harry shook his head and said “Hi, I’m Harry.”  He felt the heat creep into his cheeks as he realized how ridiculous that must have sounded.  She just smiled even bigger.  

“Harry?”

He turned to see Jeff standing across the room with someone he didn’t recognize.  Probably a local dignitary.  Damn.

“I have to go talk to them for a few minutes.  Can I get you anything first?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised.  

He crossed the room to where Jeff, a quizzical expression on his face, was waiting for him.  Harry was introduced to the Chief Executive Officer of the Perth city council and made small talk, his mind on the woman behind him. Jeff asked the man a question and, attention diverted from him for a moment, Harry glanced into the corner to find that she was gone.  He scoured the room but she wasn’t there.  In a near panic he asked “Would you excuse me?” before walking quickly to the door and speaking to the security guard.

“Did you see her leave?” Harry asked the burly man stationed at the door.

“Who?”

“I don’t know her name. A woman.  About 5’5”, brown hair, blue eyes.”

“I haven’t seen anyone like that tonight but I was called away from the door for a few minutes. Maybe she left then.”

“Damn.  Okay, Fred.  Thanks.”

When Harry returned he saw, to his relief, the local CEO had moved on.

“Jeff, how did you find her?”

“Find who?  Who are you talking about?”

“The girl! The one I saw in Glasgow.  She was here!”

“Here in Perth?”

“Here in this room not 5 minutes ago.”

“Are you okay? How much have you had to drink?”

“What? One glass of champagne.  What’s going on?”

“Harry, there was no outside girl here tonight.  Just us.”

“But Jeff I was talking to her.  When you called me over here a few minutes ago.  I was over there in the corner talking to her.”

“Harry. The only person I saw in that corner was you standing with your back to the room.”

Harry goggled at him.  How could that be?  Was he imagining her?  Noticing that Jeff was still staring at him he tried to recover.  

“I must be tired. That’s all.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.  Think I’m ready to go to the hotel,” Harry muttered and he turned away to collect his things.

Jeff watched him walk away then pulled out his phone to call for the driver.

*

Harry had trouble sleeping. When he closed his eyes, he saw her face smiling up at him.  When he slept, he had stressful dreams of chasing her, trying to get to her, but being unable to find her.  

It was the wee hours of Wednesday in Melbourne after the concert.  He was in his hotel suite letting the hot water of the shower rinse away all the tension and sweat and adrenaline.  He was thinking about having Jeff schedule him a massage as he dried his hair with the towel and walked back into the bedroom.  He almost had a heart attack when he dropped the towel onto the bed and saw her sitting on the sofa staring wide-eyed at him.  He stared back for a moment before realizing that he was naked and grabbed the towel, wrapping it around his waist.  She covered her mouth with her hand and blushed furiously.  He felt warmth in his cheeks and cleared his throat.

“How did you get in here? You scared the shit out of me!”

He said that much more sharply than he had meant to.  Her expression changed to one of worry and she got up and looked around the room for the exit.  

“Wait, I’m sorry.  You just startled me.”

She looked at him with nervous eyes and a small shrug.

“Can you talk?  What’s your name?”

She said something but no sound came out.  She didn’t seem to notice.

“What?” he asked.

She mouthed the name once more but, again, no sound came.   At his confused look she frowned and said very slowly “Can you hear me?”  

Harry shook his head.

“Weird.  I can hear me. My name is Gina.”

Years of trying to hear a fan talk over the roar of the crowd had taught him to lip read.  

“Gina?” he repeated. Her smile was brilliant as she nodded at him.  

“Well, Gina, I’m going to get dressed.  Would you mind turning around?”

Her grin got even bigger as she said “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Would you mind turning around when you could be feasting your eyes instead?”

She was laughing at him. He cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her a stern look which made her laugh even harder.  Finally she shrugged in concession and turned her back to him. He pulled on some sweat pants and a t-shirt then looked up at her back to find his eyes met hers in the mirror she was now facing.  She was laughing at him again, tears collecting in her eyes and a flush on her cheeks.

“Minx,” he said to her.

Harry sat on the sofa and she curled up in a chair facing him.  “May I get you something?  A drink? Are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.”

“So, Gina, how did you get in here?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I was just…here…and then you came out of the bath.”

Harry thought for a moment, a frisson of fear tickling his spine.  “Are you…are you a ghost?”

She looked surprised at his question.  She ran her hands up and down her arms several times and replied “Pretty sure I’m not.”

“Might have been better if you were,” he said slowly. “Then I wouldn’t be sitting in my room talking to a figment.”

“What did you call me?”

“A figment.  Of my imagination.”

“But I thought you were the figment.  I’m not a figment.”

They laughed and Harry shook his head trying to make sense of the situation.  He yawned.  

“You should go to bed. You need your rest,” she said with a gentle expression.

“And where will you be?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t even know where I am or how I got here.”

“Then you must be dreaming. Like in Inception.”

“I never have dreams this good!” she grinned.

They sat quietly looking at one another until Harry yawned again.  She stood up abruptly.  “Okay. You need to go to sleep.  I’ll just,” she looked around for the door, “leave now.”

He followed her to the door and opened it for her.  She turned to face him and crooked her finger at him.  He bent down to her.  She tiptoed and Harry felt a sigh of energy on his forehead.

“Sweet dreams, Harry.”

Then she was out the door and down the hall, out of sight around a corner.  Harry closed and locked the door and leaned against it.  He really was losing his mind.

*

Gina came to Harry almost every night.  Sometimes she was backstage after the concert, sometimes she showed up in his bedroom at the hotels.  He looked forward to winding down with her.  She regaled him with stories about her life.  He found himself telling her stories of when he was a kid, funny things from his One Direction days.  She lavished him with her full attention and he basked in it.  Without consciously deciding to, he told her about his fears and worries.  He never shared those with people outside his family or business.  Gina seemed to understand the gravity of the discussions and he was eager to hear her perspective.  She gave him a fresh way to look at some of the situations and he began to look at them as challenges instead of road-blocks.  

It was frustrating too because Gina could not tell him her last name or where she lived or who she worked for.  No personally identifying information of any kind other than her first name.  She tried to remember but could not seem to articulate it.   She told him that she really had no idea how she got to him that she could not control it, whatever ‘it’ was.  Still, it seemed that she was growing more real to him. When she shouted he could hear a faint whisper of her voice.  

It was after the first New York City show that Harry realized how much he had begun to depend on her.  It was an emotional night:  the one year anniversary of Robin passing; he was playing in freaking Madison Square Garden as a solo act;  and he sang Shania Twain in a duet with Kacey.  When he got backstage after the show he hoped that Gina would be there…but she wasn’t.  He did his best to mask the disappointment.   He needed to be strong for his mom and wanted to celebrate with the rest of the band but he needed Gina, his invisible girlfriend.

Wait, what? What the hell was happening to him? There were dozens, no hundreds, of girls still milling about the venue who would do anything he asked them to.  Some snuggling, some sex, or a nice blow job; anything he wanted he could have. Except for the imaginary woman who had captured his heart.  He heard a click and looked up to see Helene snapping picture after picture. Perfect.  There would be photographic documentation of the moment he realized he was in love with an apparition.

After a long shower in his hotel suite, he busied himself about the room unpacking items he’d need for the rest of the stay in New York.  He wasted time on his phone, playing a game or two and emailing himself tomorrow’s to do list.  At last he was too tired to wait any longer and went to brush his teeth.  He had pulled down the duvet on the bed and was climbing in when he saw her sitting on the chair in the corner.  His heart gave a leap not related to the surprise of her random appearance.

“I’m sorry I missed it earlier.  One day I will learn to control this and you’ll never get rid of me,” she said slowly as she walked to the bed.  

Standing on the side opposite Harry, she motioned for him to pull the covers back for her.  She sat on the mattress and scooted over to him. She was propped up on one elbow smiling at him with gentle eyes.  She reached her hand up and brushed a damp curl from his forehead.  Harry could feel the slight tingle as she touched him. She continued to caress his face with her fingers then placed kisses on his eyes and nose and finally his lips. Harry tried to taste her lips but could only feel the quiet buzz of energy.  She motioned for him to turn onto his side and, when he did, she cuddled up against him. He was enveloped in warmth and calm and strength.  He fell asleep and did not dream.

*

Los Angeles. The final show.  A triumphant homecoming to one of his adopted cities.  The show was off the charts.  The energy was high in the crowd and in the band.  Harry found himself crying during several songs and had to breathe hard to clear the lump in his throat.  He wanted the night to go on and on yet ultimately the show had to end. After singing Kiwi three times and blowing hundreds of kisses and taking many bows he found himself backstage surrounded by the people he loved most. It was loud and boisterous and he was overwhelmed. Jeff noticed and cleared the room to give him a moment of quiet.  Harry sat on the sofa with his head in his hands, tears of relief and regret slipping down his cheeks.  And then he felt her presence.  He looked up and Gina was standing there looking radiant.  She walked to him and enfolded him in her arms, stroking his hair. Harry rested his face on her chest and held on tightly.  

Anne knocked on the door to Harry’s dressing room and then quietly opened it.  She saw Harry in an embrace with a young woman she didn’t recognize.  As she watched, a flicker of light appeared between them and grew until they were enveloped in a bright cocoon.  Stunned she backed slowly away pulling the door closed again.

Gemma joined her and, upon seeing her face, asked worriedly “What’s wrong?”  Anne couldn’t think how to explain what she had seen. Instead she reached for the doorknob again just as the door opened.  Harry was practically glowing.  He pulled his mom and sister into a fierce hug and kissed them.  

“Can you believe it? Can you believe that I just finished my first solo tour?”

Anne felt detached, almost dissociated.   Harry looked at her face and asked “Mum? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Oh Sweetheart, I’m fine. It’s just…”

“What is it mum?” Gemma echoed.

“Harry, who was that woman you were with in there?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “You saw her?  You could see her?”

Anne was even more confused.  “Yes, I saw her.  But who is she?  Where did she go?”

The elation in Harry’s voice was infectious.  “I’m going to find out.”

 Gina Lacey sat against her pillows surfing the internet.  She’d been at it for hours and had fallen down several Pinterest rabbit holes. She checked the time and winced. Tomorrow was the one day this month that she had to go into the office instead of working from home and she couldn’t sleep.  It was becoming a problem this insomnia.  Well, fab.   She should look impressive at the meeting.  She could almost hear Donovan’s jokes:  “Going somewhere?  I see you packed your bags!”  Oh ha, ha. He thought himself hilarious, always at someone else’s expense, of course.

She had to get some sleep but she didn’t want to take anything.  She googled “how to get to sleep” and began weeding through the answers. She had tried the binaural beats. They helped a bit but took too long. Then she saw Hypnosis for Sleep. There was an entire playlist on Spotify. Maybe this would help.  She turned out the light and got snuggled under the sheet. She put in her Bluetooth earbuds and started the playlist.  The soothing voice lulled her and within minutes, she was out.

Gina woke up to her alarm and felt surprisingly refreshed.  She could think clearly and didn’t want to throw the alarm clock across the room as was the usual.  Wow. She would have to try that playlist again tonight.  She got dressed, ate a piece of avocado toast and headed out the door with her travel mug of coffee to the tube station.  She might even make it on time this morning

It was a long, long day.  Meeting day was always such a waste of time; 8 hours of jabbering that could have been handled in exactly 4 e-mails.  Donovan had been obnoxiously not funny and did not realize how close he had come to being whacked upside his head with her notebook. Gina had to excuse herself several times to collect her scattered composure.  She really enjoyed her job as a medical coder but she was sure she would hate it if she didn’t work from home.  The personalities in the office were more than she wanted to handle on a daily basis.  

After work she had taken herself to a nice dinner, had a couple of glasses of wine and then headed out into the beautiful spring evening strolling through the park on her way home. The mild temperatures had people in good moods.  She sat on a bench and enjoyed watching some children play football in the fading sun and slight breeze.  When the sun dropped beneath the horizon, scattering its last remaining light in a brilliant sunset, she got up and headed for her flat.  She had almost reached her building when she heard someone shouting her name.

Shit. Why can’t he just leave me alone?  

“Gina!  Wait for me!”

Gina paused, against her better judgement, to let Donovan catch up to her.

“What do you want Don?” she asked, arms crossed and foot tapping.

“Well aren’t you just the impatient one?  Why so cranky? Is it that time of the month?”

Gina dropped her arms and spun around and began walking purposefully away from him.

“Oh, come on! It was just a joke!  Gina!” he called, hurrying to catch up to her and grabbing her arm.

Gina wrenched herself from his grasp and whirled on him. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.  Don’t.  Or else.”

“G, come on.  I was just joking.  Tell you what, let me make it up to you over dinner,” he asked with all the charm he could muster.

“No. What do you want Donovan?”

“Can’t we go to our flat and talk about this?”

“No, we can’t. And it’s my flat, not our flat.  Remember?  You wanted to be free to screw little miss hot pants in billing?”

“Gina, you know I love you.  I just needed some space, some time to sort out my feelings.  You know you’re the only one for me.  Come on, let’s go home and talk about it.”

Gina stared at him as if he had grown three heads. “Oh, yes, I forgot.  You were out screwing half of London for almost a year to ‘get it out of your system.’ Now that you have I’m supposed to take you and your collection of STDs back?  Get this through your thick skull Don: We are never getting back together.  Like never ever.  Leave me alone.”

She turned on her heel and walked off.  He was still calling to her and pleading behind her.  Reaching her complex, she hurriedly unlocked the door and escaped inside.  Securing all the locks, she leaned against the door and sighed.  It had been a good night and then that anal orifice had to get her riled up just when she needed to start winding down.   She had enough trouble sleeping, she didn’t need him to make things worse. Gina went into the kitchen and got a glass of water from the fridge.  Gulping it too quickly, she swallowed a big bubble of air and felt it move slowly and painfully down her esophagus. She slammed the glass down on the counter hitting the marble at exactly the right angle to shatter the glass.

Bugger all.

Taking a few deep breaths, she willed herself to calm down. Stepping carefully around the shards on the floor, she went to the utility cabinet to get the broom.  She swept thoroughly and then headed for the bathroom.  Maybe a soak in the tub and some music before bed.  Rooting in a drawer in the vanity she found her last ‘sex bomb’ from Lush. As the tub filled, she put some music on the speaker; a little Harry Styles always helped.

The steaming water eased some of the tension in her back and neck.  She closed her eyes and thought about seeing Harry’s concert in Glasgow last week.  She had scored an amazing ticket close to the front and next to the barricade.  When Harry had run to the B stage she had actually touched his hand.  And then the man himself had looked her right in the eyes.  It was so strange, she had felt like she was in a bubble or something, like time had stopped.  And then he had to move on and she was pulled back into the crowd.  It had been the best moment of her life.  Just remembering it gave her chills or maybe it was the bath water which had grown cold.  She got dried off and brushed her teeth before climbing into bed.   She set her phone to play the sleep binaural beats, put in her earbuds and snuggled down.  It was hours before she could drift off.

*

Gina was trying to work on the cases in her queue but she was so tired.  She kept nodding off even though it was only mid-afternoon.  At last, she gave up.  She headed to the bedroom to try a nap.  She avoided them when she could because it messed up her sleep at night but she was afraid if she didn’t she would make a mistake and someone’s hospital bill would be wrong and then her boss would yell and then…

She crawled under the covers and closed her eyes. Nothing.  She shook her head and cleared her mind and closed her eyes again.  Half an hour later she was still awake.  What fresh hell was this? Too sleepy to work but wide awake in bed. Grabbing her phone she decided to try the hypnosis play list again.  The soothing voice and white noise lulled her to sleep.

She awoke 3 hours later to the alarm on her phone.  A glance at the window showed darkening skies over a deep purple sunset. She stretched and sat up.  She felt wonderful.  An image tried to swim to the surface of her attention but slipped back down into the deep end of the subconscious pool.  She’d had a vivid dream but could remember none of the details, only the feeling that it was so real.  She felt tingly as if she were not completely in reality yet, like part of her was gone on holiday or something.  Freaky.  

She got up and made herself a cup of tea before opening her laptop and getting to work, processing her daily quota of patients.  

*

Though it was only noon, Gina was taking a break with a mug of tea and some biscuits.  It was a cold day for the early summer and she thought for a moment about starting a fire but decided that it was too much work. Her head and muscles ached with fatigue.

Maybe I’m coming down with something.  

She had been sleeping a lot lately but it didn’t seem to help the lethargy.  She was having vivid dreams every night but could not recall them upon waking.  Whatever they were about they had instilled a feeling of yearning in her.  She wanted something desperately but wasn’t able to name that thing.  It left her feeling out of sorts and nervous.

Maybe it’s the hypnosis tracks.  What if there are some subliminal suggestions to make me want to buy a new 70” HDTV?  

Grabbing her phone from the table where she had been watching Harry concert videos  she scrolled through her nighttime playlist.  “Deep Sleep Hypnosis” was first followed by “Insomnia Cure Sounds”.  The next one was “Relaxation Meditation: Lucid Dreaming”.  Each of these was between 15 and 45 minutes long.  Then came two long pieces, an hour each, entitled “Astral Projection: Soul Search” and “Astral Projection: Lucid Love.”  

What the hell?  Am I out in some weird astral body exercising all night long? Is that why I’m tired? I must be losing my mind to even consider this.

Moving to her laptop, she googled astral projection and read several articles.  One that said that most dreams were not remembered by the conscious mind and the same goes for astral projections.  

Uh huh.  Nice loophole.  So how do you know if you traveled or not?

Some of the articles said that you did not have to be asleep to do an astral projection, you could get there through deep meditation.  Biting the inside of her lip she debated the level of insanity necessary to believe in this stuff.  

Screw it.

She put her earbuds in and went to lay on her bed.  She got comfy, pulled a light blanket over her and hit the play button. The music was soothing and the voice encouraging her to relax was calm and clear.  She strained her ears to hear any barely audible instructions in the background.  There were none.  Behind her eyelids, colors and light swirled and danced.  Then slowly, things went dark and shadowy.  She felt as though she was no longer in her bedroom. She was in a different room and it was dark, night.  She heard a soft sound from around a corner and went to investigate. With each step it seemed that her whole body tingled in anticipation.  There was a large bed with a sleeping figure smack in the center of it.  She didn’t want to disturb the person but felt compelled to move closer.  At the edge of the bed she looked down on the sleeping face of Harry Styles.  

I have now officially lost my mind.

Conflicting thoughts filled her as her rational mind battled with what she could ‘see’ right in front of her.   Her hand reached out and touched his forehead.  Though her fingertips tingled she could tell that his skin was soft and warm. She stroked his brow gently, marveling at the sensations.  She was overwhelmed with emotions; possessiveness, desire, compassion, love. She caressed him once more and, without warning, he opened his eyes and looked straight at her.  She gasped as their eyes connected and she was almost overcome with the intensity of the feelings invading her.  

“You came.”

She smiled at him and nodded.  “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s worth it to be with you.  Are you okay, Gina?  You look different.”

His use of her name -he knew her name!- stunned her.  Was this real? Was she ‘lucid dreaming’? What was happening to her?

He reached for her hand.  “Come cuddle with me.”

Deciding that this was too good of an opportunity, real or not, she lay down with him and he spooned around her small body with his much larger one. The sense of relief and peace was almost overwhelming.  Her skin tingled and her heart was light.  It was as though she was alive for the first time.  She lay there in his arms basking in pure bliss as his breathing evened out and became deep and slow.

The buzzing of her alarm jarred her awake.  It was mid-afternoon and the flat was dark from the rain clouds outside blocking the sun. Gina got up slowly and turned on a lamp. She went to the utility closet and got some wood and started a fire.  She made another cup of tea and sat on the sofa wrapped in a blanket. She stared at the flames and began to cry.

*

Gina had cried until she had no more tears.  Then she blew her nose, ate two Godiva truffles and then went to take a hot shower. She came back refreshed and determined. Snagging her laptop, she began and intense research into all things ‘out of body’.  If this was real, if this had really happened, then Harry knew her. She must have been coming to him often. The intensity of the emotions generated when they were together left her feeling exhausted.  That would explain her weariness.  She desperately wanted to go back to that room and climb into his arms again.  The deep longing she felt to be with him also explained her sense that she needed to be somewhere but didn’t know where.  Well by golly she knew where now.  The only question was how did she get back there?

Gina went to half a dozen bookstores for an armload of tomes ranging from “Astral Dynamics” to “Astral Projection for Dummies.”  She was determined to figure out how this worked but the books did not really help.  What she was experiencing was not like the books described.  At night she was with Harry and she was getting better at remembering the time with him.  Still, for some reason, she could not tell him her last name or her address when they were together.  It was as though those facts just skipped out of her reach and sat mocking her from across the room.

It was on July 15 that everything seemed to change.  Harry was performing his last concert of the tour in Los Angeles on the 14th.  Being 8 hours ahead in London, Gina set her alarm to make sure she was up and ready to watch the show on one of the fan live streams.   As soon as he started the first Kiwi she began to settle herself and prepare to project. When he left the stage, she turned off the stream and played some meditation music.  She cleared her mind and watched the swirls of color on her eyelids. She repeated her mantra, ‘Harry’, over and over in time to the beat of the music.  And then she felt as if a long shepherd’s crook had reached into her body and snagged her soul, dragging it out of its corporeal confines.  She was free.  

In a flash she was in a room and Harry was sitting before her on the sofa.  He was crying softly into his hands.  He looked up and saw her and she walked over to him, holding him protectively in her arms and stroking his hair.  She felt a spot of heat just under her heart.  As she stood there hugging him to her, the heat began to grow and spread.  It was enveloping the two of them rapidly.  Harry looked up at her in wonder as the light encased them both.  Gina was sure that time stood still as they remained basking in that golden warmth and light for hours.  He pulled her into his lap and kissed her, gilt sparks flying from the contact. Gina felt a shift, as if she were a planet and had tilted off her axis. She blinked.  She was in her flat alone as the sun crested the building opposite her and spilled light into the room.  She had no idea what had happened.  She could not remember anything after waking up that morning but she had an uncontrollable need to book a flight.

Harry said goodbye to the staff at Da Panini, kissing Gabriella Franchini on both cheeks before stepping out into the Rua Freda. The food and conversation had been amazing and Gabriella had given him a copy of her book “I sogni in tasca.”  The story of her brother’s life and death was sure to be a powerful read and he was looking forward to it.   The early evening was gorgeous and the light of the waning sun gilded the city of Modena.  He strolled toward the Rua dei Frati Menori and his hotel enjoying the sounds and smells of the Italian city.  He paused in the piazza to look at the Church of St. Francis and its beautiful 800 year old architecture.  Wanting a closer look, he crossed the street.  He was examining the lunette above the wooden doors when someone bumped into him.  

“Oh!  I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going—“

Catching the woman before she stumbled, Harry looked down into a face he knew well.  Gina’s smile slowly dawned on her face.  Harry reached a hand up and caressed her cheek.

“Hi.  I’m Harry,” he said as he bent his lips to hers.

[gingerlexi2897]

If you know me, you know I love Scotland. The green hills, the food, the weather, (yes, the weather), but most importantly the people. No matter how much you love a place, it’s the people that keep you coming back. They’re the ones you connect with and build a relationship with.

Since we spent close to two weeks there this time, I’ve decided that the best way to go about this is to split the trip into two parts: Part I being our time in Glasgow and Edinburgh and Part II during our week in Perth. Otherwise, you’d never get through it.

As our plane descended into Edinburgh Airport, you could feel the excitement of Erin and Itty sitting next to me as they caught their first glimpse of the countryside sprawling out in every direction. None of us could stop smiling, Erin partially because she had just been reading Outlander and was dreaming of Jamie, while I couldn’t help but feel like I was home. We walked down the steps onto the tarmac, doing our best princess wave on the way, and were greeted by the cool breeze that let us know we most definitely not in central Europe anymore.

Because our flight out of Paris had been delayed and we landed later than we had anticipated, we spent our first evening in Edinburgh doing what we do best; sitting in a pub, people watching and eating good food. We checked into our Airbnb, which much to Erin’s disgust was on the top floor of a building with no lift, and set out to find a pub and see a wee bit of the city before the sun went down, which thankfully isn’t until nearly 11 in the summer.

Our first full day in Scotland was just that, full. We set out from our flat decently early and headed for the Royal Mile and Edinburgh Castle. Since Mum, Dad, and I had already seen the castle and are pretty familiar with the Mile, we set Erin and Itty loose to see the crown jewels and learn about the history of Scotland. While they were in the castle with the rest of the tourists, the rest of us meandered down the Mile and took in the sights of the Fringe Festival which kicked off that day. We also made a pit stop at the famous Elephant House coffee shop, the “birthplace of Harry Potter.”

Erin and Itty caught up with us after a while and we turned our sights on Holyrood Park and Arthur’s Seat at the top. In some ways, this was one of the most exciting parts of the trip for me because I managed to hike all the way up and down the hill without turning an ankle, which is not something I would’ve been able to say before ankle surgery in March. Oh, and the views from the top are SO worth it. From Arthur’s Seat, you get the best view of Edinburgh and Leith spreading out beneath you and the Firth of Forth. I think it would have been all too easy for us to just sit up there the whole day listening to Josh Garrels and enjoying the view, but we had things to do.

Once we knew the exact dates of our Scotland portion of the trip and where we would be for most of those days, we set about trying to meet up with some of the team that had been in Hungary with us, specifically, the guys in Glasgow. After some slight teeth pulling and back and forth, we managed to arrange to meet them in town that evening for dinner. So after a late lunch with Mum and Dad, the three of us girls grabbed a train from Edinburgh Waverly bound for Queen Street and Glasgow. With the expectation bar set low and no clue what our evening would hold, we sat in the beautiful sunny in George Square and waited to see how exactly this evening was going to go. The general consensus between the three of us was that if they bailed straight after dinner, we were just going to go out and enjoy Glasgow for ourselves because we paid for those train tickets, darn it.

You’ll be happy to know that our back-up plans and slightly salty attitudes were not needed. We had our last few moments of doubts as we watched the boys walk up to us looking like we’d shaved their highland cow, but those feelings quickly evaporated. Even though they had only just landed back in Glasgow from Hungary the afternoon before, Kieren and Gregor were willing to give up their Friday night to show three crazy Americans around Glasgow.

I fell in love with Glasgow that night like I never had before. The boys took us on a grand, albeit slightly unexpected, walking tour from George Square through Kelvingrove Park to the West End, all the while telling all sorts of ridiculous stories and catching us up on all that had happened in the week since camp. I could so easily go on an on about the different conversations about football and growing up in Glasgow and all that we managed to do in the 6 hours we spent in Glasgow, but that would have to be a post all on its own or we’d be here all day. All I’ll say is that I’m hugely thankful for friends who give up their evening to make us laugh and take us for pizza and gelato. (Stick a churro in it.)

When we left on the last train back to Edinburgh that night, we had no expectation of being back anytime soon.  Yet a week later we found ourselves surrounded by the sights and sounds of Glasgow once more. Kieren graciously sacrificed his peace and quiet on a Saturday morning to pick Erin, Itty, and I up from the train station and take us to a football (soccer) match with him and his Grandad. I’ve probably said it dozens of times at this point, but I’m genuinely so shocked by the boys’ willingness to spend extended periods of time with us.

Kieren has supported Alloa Athletic his entire life and spends his Saturdays from August to May traveling up and down the country supporting them, so when he asked if we wanted to make the trek to Greenock with him, we jumped on the opportunity. He even managed to pull a few strings and get us free tickets (Thanks, Gordon!).  As someone who absolutely loves football and tries to watch it as often as I can, I’d been looking forward to Saturday since we made the plans earlier in the week. While Erin had seen a US Women’s National Team match before, this was Itty’s first experience with the world of football. She spent the whole 90 minutes fully engaged in the match and asking every question she could. Although Alloa unfortunately didn’t pull out the win, we had a great time cheering on the wasps and I think we made Itty a football fan along the way.

We spent the rest of the afternoon/evening just hanging out with Kieren’s grandparents and then the four of us grabbed dinner together before Kieren dropped us off at the station and we rode the 45 minutes back to Perth. Since Erin and Itty had decided to spend the last few days of their trip before they flew out on Thursday Glasgow, I planned on going back down with them for the day that Monday so we all knew we would be back in less than 48 hours when we said goodbye Saturday night.

Monday morning just after peak hours we drug Erin and Itty’s cases to the station in Perth and were once again headed for the now-familiar Queen Street station in Glasgow. Because they couldn’t check into their Airbnb until later that afternoon, we checked their bags at the station and set off in search of something to do for the day until we were to meet up with Stevie. We originally set off for the Botanical Gardens since it was the one thing we hadn’t seen the Friday evening we spent with Gregor and Kieren, but instead found ourselves in Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum out of the rain. If you’re looking for something to do in Glasgow on a rainy day, the art museum is free and in my opinion way better than our adventure at the Louvre had been.

Stevie met us at Kelvingrove and after a bit of a laugh trying to get a taxi in the rain, we headed once again to the West End and a cozy coffee shop. I think one of the reasons I love Glasgow and Scottish culture so much is because when we met up with our friends, there was never a feeling of being on a schedule and that they only had 30 minutes to see us before heading off to something else. We probably spent close to 3 hours that afternoon just sitting in Kothel chatting with Stevie about anything and everything like we had known him forever.

A little after 4 that afternoon we collected Erin and Itty’s bags from the train station and walked to 10 mins to their Airbnb in the Merchant City district. Once we managed to fix the bed after I broke it, (oops…) we went out in search of dinner before meeting up with Kieren at quite possibly the coolest bar I’ve ever been too. Two words: Gin. Bar. Oh, it was absolutely incredible. The menu was about 50 pages long and filled with dozens of different regional gins, tonics, and mixers. All-in-all, I think Glasgow has very easily become one of my favourite places in the world. The best part of the whole thing? Kieren doesn’t even really care for gin.

As I said goodbye to Itty and Erin and climbed on the train back to Perth that night, I couldn’t help but debate the idea of not boarding the plane the following morning and just figuring out how to stay in Scotland forever. I did board the flight the next day but was already making plans to be back in December.

Songs for Scotland:

Heaven’s Knife – Josh Garrels

Belter – Gerry Cinnamon

Real Love Baby – Father John Misty

  Lexi

    10 points to whoever guesses where the title is from.

The Roof is on Fire and It’s Raining Outside If you know me, you know I love Scotland. The green hills, the food, the weather, (yes, the weather), but most importantly the people.