#my friend Alex saw me write these I hate him

[sockdooe]

I’m friends with the monster inside of my head

[lleeanarr]

pt 1.

summary: The relationship was unexpected not only from the fans, but it was unexpected to the both of them as well.

genre: fluff, smau

paring: Lando Norris x Influencer!reader

!fc: Lani Pliopa

a/n: I was trying to find face claims and scrolled to Lani Pliopa’s insta and saw that lando actually liked one of her picture. Let’s say I was inspired to write this😭✋

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 178,527 others

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yourusername 22☺️🌟

user1 Happy birthdayy🫶

user9 happy bday pretty🥳

user6 Happiest birthday🥰🥰

user4 🤍🤍

user7 LANDOOO??😦

bsfuser HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BABY😍😍

yourusername THANK YOU🥴

alexandrasaintmleux happy birthday to the prettiest☺️🫶

yourusername says you😛🫶

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

TWITTER

defnotyn (priv) : another month another person to stalk😍😍✨✨

bsfuser : NOOOO NOT ANOTHER ANTICSS😔✊

defnotyn (priv) : nvmm dmed him insteaddd🥴

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

INSTAGRAM

catsuperior111 : if animals could speak, which species do you think would be the rudest?????

landonorris : wtf💀

landonorris : i have a feeling squirrels would be rude af

catsuperior111 : .... i see ur point WAiT

catsuperior111 : but still i have a strong hatred towards dolphins and i think theyd be more rudee😒😒😒

landonorris : why dolphins?

catsuperior111 : search it up YOURSELFF

--

landonorris : WTF DID I JUST SEARCH???!!!😭😭

catsuperior111 : thats my same thought the first time i found out🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

landonorris : you just made me hate dolphins too😔✊

landonorris : i was so close to saying cats was next on the list until i saw ur user…

catsuperior111 : WHATTTT??? YOU HVAE SONETHING AGAINTS CATS????😠😠🤨🤨

catsuperior111 : THEY ARE THE CUTEST MOST ADORABLE CREATURE THAT COULD EXIST

landonorris : pretty sure that means the same thing

catsuperior111 : stfu😃😃

catsuperior111 : okay now lets hear this

catsuperior111 : would you prefer a crying child??

catsuperior111 : OR a little furball that sleeps and doesnt bother you all day?

landonorris : i like kids..

catsuperior111 : ofc you do😒

catsuperior111 : kids are fine.. in certain occasion

catsuperior111 : when their 3 up until 5 theyre still cute (except when they start crying and thow tantrums)

catsuperior111 : but when they turn 6 and can properly speak, thats when i just find them so annoying and cant think of anything but wanting to throw them out a window😍

landonorris : oh WOW i see you dont like kids

catsuperior111 : i do... (no i don't)

catsuperior111 : certain ones

landonorris : so you just dont

catsuperior111 : oh shush let me live okay

catsuperior111 : i just dont like spoiled little kids🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

catsuperior111 : and i also dont like when kids throw tantrums and cry

catsuperior111 : I just dont know what to do and I find in irritating😔😔✊✊

landonorris : ok fair point

landonorris : no one likes crying kids😂

catsuperior111 : exactly

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername

liked by bsfuser and 27,098 others

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yourusername did i mention that i play the flute😍

yourusername someone please help me find a drummer😔✊✊ (or a guitarist)

user8 😭😭😭

user10 we get it girly🙏

user27 ms girl what can you not do🤨🤨

yourusername i cant play football….

user27 …fair enough

bsfuser will you stop with the obsession😃😃

yourusername No😍😍🙏

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yourusername posted on their story!

Replies!

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alexandrasaintmleux 🫶🫶

user11 YOU GUYS ARE FRIENDS???

user33 the duo i never knew i needed😩😩

user15 shes so pretty🥹🥹

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 19,410 others

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yourusername till we meet again Paris✨@alexandrasaintmleux thank you for the great day😍😍🫶

alexandrasaintmleux omgg you too🤍

yourusername luv ya😘🙏

user5 lovin how alex and y/n have been going to art museums together for a while now

user23 the pictures are stunning

user35 ⭐️

user2 prettyyy🥰

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TWITTER

defnotyn (priv) : call me crazy but i am genuinely intrigued with that landon guy

bsfuser : i thought you said it was lando🤨🤨🤨

defnotyn (priv) : dunno man🤷‍♀️

defnotyn (priv) : lando, landon i could care less😮‍💨

bsfuser : 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

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a/n: This took longer than i wanted to but i thought if i put everything in one post it might be too long so im dividing it into parts😅😅

[katiascraft]

so i thought like reader being williams social media manager and she is also Francos ex girlfriend. And now Franco is coming into f1 and they see each other again? I don’t know if it makes sense hut yeah. Maybe you like the idea. Love your stuff💗

Hey sweetie 💌 ooooooh I love the idea! I love drama and second chances! Hope you like it. Thank you so much for your request! You are the first to do so. And so I wanted to let you know you made me so happy today :3 (sorry if it took a while but better late than ever! And I hope you have a wonderful day as well 🩵)

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“But we were something, don’t you think so? And if my wishes came true it would’ve been you” | FC43

Parings: Franco Colapinto x WilliamsRancingEmployee!Reader.

Summary: Franco and you broke up a while ago. You didn’t expect to see him ever again until he starts driving in F1 for Williams Racing Team.

Now playing: “The 1” by Taylor Swift.

Word count: +2,4k.

Warnings: a little angst? And fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: thank you anon for your request again! First time writing about Fran - maybe I could get used to this. Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

You were trying to not lose your umbrella because of the wind. It was raining pretty heavily. England was never a city where happy spirits lived. The sky it’s pretty much sad and depressed most days of the year. But you loved it. You loved feeling melancholy. Remembering your past with a smile or tears.

You had something of not overcoming the past pretty fast. It’s really hard for you to let go and deal with deadlines.

You got finally to the bus stop where a ceiling was now protecting you a little from the water. You were heading for the Williams Racing factory where you’ve worked for a few years now. You were the social media manager at Williams. And you had a meeting with the marketing department.

These last few months were really hard on you. And the reason was just one single person. And that was Franco.

You and Franco dated for two years back when he got in F4. You were teenagers. But still he was the guy who made you feel all the butterflies for the first time. The relationship didn’t end pretty well. You didn’t wanna end it but he told you that he had already made his decision. He needed to be focused to be able to jump to F1 and your romance to him was a distraction. That hurt you so much. And it still hurts thinking about it.

You heart stoped for a second when you saw a guy walking towards your same bus stop - you thought it was Franco because he takes the bus to work just like he always did since you two met. But it wasn’t. Though the guy from afar looked a lot like him. You calmed yourself down.

You job got pretty tricky since Franco jumped finally into F1. You were so happy for him. You wanted to talk to him and tell him how proud of him you were but you couldn’t. You were supposed to hate each other. Working with him was a challenge. You just decided to pretend you didn’t even know who he was and treat him as you treated Alex or Logan before. Even though your heart raced so fast by just looking at him, talk to other people.

First time you saw him was back in august when James announced a new driver was chosen to replace Logan. You loved Logan. Such a great guy. But you understood this was also a business and money is top priority. And Williams isn’t a team with many economic resources so each penny counted. James did an introduction to him a day before the race. He said hi to everyone. When you two saw each other just shook hands. You couldn’t even look at him. When you were back home you had a breakdown and needed to call your therapist because you don’t know how the fuck you were be able to deal him every single day. And even post about him most of the time because for your unlucky luck people became obsessed with him. Everybody loved Franco. And you understood why: he was the most charming and handsome boy you have ever met. And he didn’t change a bit after one year of not seeing him - you thought - forever.

Finally you took the bus. You were gonna be late so you texted your co-worker Amanda to let her know it. You sat on the only free seat that there was.

You were preoccupied in revising everything you had to stay and show in your meeting you didn’t realize the guy sitting next to you was actually franco.

After an awkward silence Franco broke the ice “hey… buenos días” he said with a raspy voice. He was nervous. Not sure if you were okay if he even opened his mouth.

You felt colder than the weather when you heard him. You looked at him to check you weren’t dreaming and indeed you weren’t. You give him a little smile. “Oh hi fran” that’s how you used to call him. Your heart sank a bit. “Good morning. Sorry I didn’t see you. I have a reunion and didn’t want to forget anything. You have a workout today?” You just decided to talk to him. A little chat wouldn’t kill you. And you hated pretending you didn’t know him. He smelled just the same. The same perfume. He had his mate bag with him and a boca juniors gym bag. Just as how you remembered him. You licked your lips nervously.

He nodded shyly and you saw his cheeks turning red for some reason. “Yeah I have gym today. And everything’s gonna be fine at the meeting. You always explain yourself perfectly” he said, sending you a sweet smile. His voice was deep and raspy. You knew he was still a little sleepy knowing it was almost 8am. You smiled back at him.

“Thank you” you said sweetly. Another weird silence took place between you two. You didn’t know what to say. You just looked around.

“Are you still mad at me y/n?” He said out of nowhere. The words just jumped out of his mouth. He was still hunted by what happened between you two. You looked at him again, giving him a sad look. You denied it with your head.

“No I'm not… I’m just sad. We were something right? But you know. It was hard to let you go but yeah…” you hesitated in what you could tell him. You didn’t even know what you were feeling right now. He stared at you a few seconds and nodded looking down. He started playing with his fingers.

“Maybe we could talk about all of this when you finish your meeting? I really think we should talk. I… I don’t like when you pretend you don’t know me… like we never knew each other you know? I feel really guilty about it. And… I’m proud of where you are now. It was your dream and you made it. And you’re really good at it. You give fans what they need” he said shyly and sad? He was working hard to show he can be an F1 driver. That he deserves a seat. But also he was really sad because he since decided to end things with you. He already regretted it.

Yes, he was more focused but he didn’t have your support. He isn’t into physical touch but your hugs were his favorites. He would let you touch him forever. He felt empty and really lonely. Even his family had to deal with the grief of not having you around anymore.

Yes, it was worth it for a while when he had James tell him he was gonna drive an F1 car for the end of the season. But when he saw you standing there. More beautiful than he has ever seen you. You looked so happy and profesional. So beautiful. And bright. He hated himself right there. Because you'd have done it together if he wouldn’t have been so selfish. He didn’t think he was in love with you when you broke up. But as the time passed he felt miserable. Getting home and seeing no one. No music. No you playing sims and showing him the sims you created while he was gone. No cooking cookies for tea time or ‘merienda’ how it is called in Argentina. Anyone to share mates with or talk about the day. No one to cuddle on the sofa or to forget about everything in bed. No one to go out and eat dinner. Or day trips to London. There was nothing left.

He was an asshole to you. And he really hated himself for that.

You couldn’t keep on talking because the bus was really where you needed to be. You both got down the bus in silence. And just walked side by side into the Williams factory announcing yourselves at the gate.

You were thinking about his offer. Like you needed it but at the same time you were scared. But you decided to follow your heart.

“See you after the meeting then?” You said when he opened the door of the factory for you. His sad look turned into a very smiley one. He nodded.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll be waiting for you at the cafeteria. Is that okay?” He said walking behind you because you were running late for the meeting. You turned to him a little.

“Sounds good to me Fran. See you in a bit” you said in a smile but feeling really weird at the same time. You didn’t know if that chat was gonna be the end of you or the relief you just needed. You didn’t know. But you knew you couldn’t keep going the way you two were.

You disappeared from Franco's view while you ran up the stairs to the office where the meeting was being held. He just stared there for a few seconds wondering. He didn’t know if talking was the best move but he felt better after you said yes. And he realized how bad he missed hearing you call him Fran. He got into the gym. Everyone was already there so he didn’t have time to keep thinking about you. Now it was time for a great workout. And a pretty intense one.

(…)

You got out of the office 2 hours later. It was intense. You had a headache now and you needed some coffee. You were regretting deciding to meet Franco but it is what it is. Maybe could it be relaxing? You didn’t believe yourself. But you were sure you just had to give him another chance and maybe be friends.

You walked down the stairs and headed to the cafeteria. When you got there you could see Franco sitting alone at one of the tables. There wasn’t anyone. It was just you and Franco and the women at the kitchen. You smiled. You were a little bit more relaxed knowing it was kind of private. First you headed into the kitchen and asked for a coffee. You knew Franco didn’t want one because you saw him drinking mate. The woman handed the coffee politely to you and you thanked her with a sweet smile “have a good rest of the day Amelia” you told her sweetly grabbing your coffee and now walking towards franco.

He saw you and gave you a bright smile. “Hey” he said, moving his stuff so you could sit with him at the table and have space for your coffee and things. He was reading some papers that were given to him by one of the engineers back in the simulator.

You smiled looking at him. He had showered and smelled incredibly good. And he looked so gorgeous by the sunlight that was coming in from the window. “Hey did I make you wait too long?” You said sitting down and getting comfy.

“No no I got here like 30 minutes ago” he said softly and sweetly. You looked so beautiful in your formal outfit. Though he remembered being crazy about you when you wore pajamas. You looked so cute. He missed you. Like crazy.

“Oh okay. Thank you for waiting for me” you thanked him and took a sip of your coffee. And he did the same with his mate.

“So… how are you? How’s your life been?” You said to start talking and leave the uncomfortness of the situation behind and just chill out and be okay with this. Or at least you wished that but you were a bit anxious of this conversation taking place.

“Well… to be fair it just depends on which aspect of my life you ask. In my driving life everything’s been great. Better than I could ever have expected. In my personal life to be honest I’ve been miserable” he said, giggling a little at the last part of his answer. You smiled sadly looking at him.

“Well maybe we aren’t so different. I’ve been miserable too personally. And at work gray. Better than ever. But you know a guy I used to date decided to fuck my life up by just being selfish so yeah - life’s shit” you really didn’t want to go there so fast but you just couldn’t control yourself. You’re still hurt. And you needed to be vocal about it. You deserve it. You could see he got nervous and readjusted himself on his chair.

“Oh yeah I think I remember him. He was an asshole to you. Then he felt empty and guilty and lonely and got depressed. But you know he deserved it for being such an idiot. I wouldn’t have let you go if I were him. You are in fact an incredible woman with the worst sense of humor I’ve ever met. And by worst I mean best.” He said talking in third person funny. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You looked at him nodding.

“Yeah he was a selfish asshole but we can also agree maybe that he looks gorgeous now. If he has another girl then I would be really jealous. He is really a sweetheart. And a professional clown. Very funny. He should do stand up” you followed his way of navigating all of this mess you two created. He laughed and your heart melted. You loved making him laugh. Your heart started racing and butterflies reappeared in your stomach. You felt dumb.

“Oh no he is pretty ugly in my opinion. You were too much for him but like positively. You are fucking sexy and he is just a dude” he said raising his shoulders quirky and funny. You got so flustered.

“Well maybe you're right. I’m not gonna deny I’m on top level” you said joking giggling. He smiled wildly. There you were again. The you he was madly in love with. And the he was. The guy who made you laugh until you cried. The one who made you so happy.

It would’ve been fun if he would’ve been the one. Or maybe does he still have a chance?

“Look y/n I’m really sorry. I really am. I know that saying sorry doesn’t fix anything but I would really love it if we could be friendly and try to figure this out on good terms?” He said more seriously and you nodded agreeing.

“Yeah we can try. Everyone deserves a second chance right?”you told him. You had mixed feelings about it but you knew that maybe this was the best you could do. Try to make things easier between you two will also be beneficial for your work.

“Alright” he said with the biggest smile you saw him having since you saw him again. “You want some?” He asked, offering you mate and you just nodded, smiling at him and agreeing.

Just like the old days.

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Hope you liked it 💌 if you have anymore ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[f1smutwriter]

Hello I saw you write for pierre could you write one where they had a fight and fem reader is giving him the silent treatment

After going out with charles and alex, pierre finds out some hot tea he comes into the bedroom asks to pause their fight si he can share the tea which is something they always do together without fail.

Maybe gossiping is how they met like idk they sat at bar together and he overheard her gossip on her phone about her date. So he listened in lol

I saw a picture of Charles showing pierre something on his phone and it looked like juicy drama.

Feel free to make up the gossip or use actual f1 gossip I'm just getting into it so I don't know a lot of lore.

Thank you xo

|𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐚 (𝐩𝐠𝟏𝟎)

|𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: they get into an agreement but the tea is too good not to tell.

Warnings: nothing, a bit of cussing that’s pretty much it

Notes: I loved writing this and I’m so sorry for not posting I’ve been trying to keep up with the writing from these and my books so I’m sorry. Girl I hope you enjoy!

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“Really the silent treatment, it was one word it didn’t mean anything” Pierre tried to tell me but I didn’t give him any of it. He just shakes his head before saying the word that made this whole argument. “I called you dramatic because you said I didn’t love you because I forgot your chocolate, which is extremely dramatic” He told me making my jaw drop as he called me dramatic again. I just roll my eyes and flip him off going to the kitchen.

“Oh come on mon ange you’re really mad at me” he says following me to the kitchen. I don’t say anything to him I just go to the fridge and take out some pineapple to cut for myself. “Baby please I need you to not ignore me I hate when you ignore me” he told me making me roll my eyes from his begging voice.

“Fine I’ll just ignore you then” he grumbled going to his game room to join the simulator with his friends. A few hours later he comes in the room and hopes in the shower. He comes out in his towel and his gold chain around his neck making me just stare at him in awe but quickly look away when he looks at me.

“I’m going out with Charles and Alex for a bit I made you dinner already so don’t worry about starving to death” He shouted from the closet when he was changing. I just sigh hating being alone in the house but I continued to go on my phone (secretly watching edits of him). He comes out in baggy light washed jeans, a green hoodie and a jacket to layer it with his chain and his ring that I gifted him. I basically drool over him but I try to ignore him.

He blow dries his hair making it the perfect amount of fluffy, once’s he’s finished getting ready he comes to me and grabs my jaw softly kissing me making me kiss back like a first instinct.

We kiss for a couple of minutes before he lets go and kisses forehead softly before whispering. “I’ll see you in a bit mon ange. Je t’aime” he whispered to me before giving my neck a peck before leaving the room. I just sit in my room waiting for him to come home already missing him even though he just left.

Charles, Alex, and Pierre are all playing poker with some other friends they grew up with. “Dude did you hear the shit that was happening” Charles asked Pierre who was looking at his cards. “No what shit” He asked fixing his cards so he didn’t lose.

“So something happened with Max and Nando and I think their like arguing for a redbull seat, but redbull is obviously gonna stick with Max and Nando is pissed so he’s like talking a lot of shit about max” Charles said while putting his chips in the middle. “And want is max saying” Pierre asked now just listening to the story.

"He's pissed calling Nando immature, and how he's taking it out of proportion" Charles says while taking a swig of his drink. "That's fucking crazy man" Pierre chuckled while placing down his cars showing the boys he won another round. "Fucking hell man how do you always win" Alex says throwing his card on the table.

"You just suck at poker mate" Pierre laughed while taking all the chips. "Well mates I got to go lily wants me home for dinner and I don't want to be broke" Alex chuckled while packing up his things. "Yeah I got to go to Y/n me hope at a certain so l got to go" Pierre said before taking one more sip of his drink before grabbing his keys and going to the car.

Once he gets home he speed walks to the room seeing me on my phone watching some videos. "Baby" he says softly to me making me roll my eyes. "I know you're mad at me, but I have drama that needs to be told” Pierre said dramatically sitting on the edge of the bed. "So pause the fight because it is too good" Pierre says making me smile before wanting to hear.

“So apparently the girls are fighting, Max and Fernando are arguing about a redbull seat, and obvi redbull is gonna stick to their starboy so Nando got pissed and started talking nonsense about it. Saying how max doesn't deserve the seat and how it should be his, and max is like he's being ridiculous and immature" Pierre says spilling the tea to me without taking a single breath.

"No fucking way, I thought Nando was loving it at Aston Martin" I say confused on the whole topic. "Apparently not because he's not getting as much attention as Lance is because he's a ne-" I cut him off before he finished the sentence. "Be respectful" I warned him with the look that makes him be nice

"Sorry Mon ange, but yeah that's why the girls are fighting over a stupid seat" Pierre laughed which makes me laugh. "Please tell me you're not mad anymore" he asked me with his puppy dog eyes and pout. "No baby I'm not mad anymore" I say lovingly while running my fingers through his hair. "Since when did we start spilling tea to each other because now it's just normal" | asked while feeling his hair through my finger tips.

“The first day we met, heard you talking about that dick head that stood you up so I got the courage and talked to you” he says softly to me while his head is in my lap and he’s rubbing thigh. “You were listening” I laughed while scratching his scalp a bit just like he liked it. “When I heard ‘you’ll never guess what happened I was all ears” he laughed against me making me laugh with him.

—————————————————————————

3 years ago

“Dude you’ll never guess what happened” was the one word that Pierre heard to make him start listening to my conversation without me knowing. The asshole stood me up said he was with another girl who’s ten times prettier” I said absolutely pissed while talking to my friend.

Pierre just takes a sip of his drink shocked that a guy can say that to someone as gorgeous as you. “I bet you his dick was tiny” I say making fun of the guy making Pierre almost snort out in laughter.

After the call ended I feel a tap on my shoulder. When I turned around to see who it was I see then most handsome guy I’ve seen. “Hi I’m sorry to bother you but I just wanted to say that you’re beautiful” Pierre said making me smile softly and feeling my cheeks get hot.

“That you so are you” I stuttered, “I-i mean handsome you’re very handsome” I stuttered pretty bad making him smile softly at me seeing his pearly white teeth. “I’m sorry I’m never really like this” I tell him trying to save myself from embarrassment. “No it’s okay I think it’s pretty cute” he told me making me blush ten times more almost looking like a tomato.

“May I have your name” he asked me softly his French accent making it so much better when he talks. “Hailey my names Hailey” I say softly still blushing for the life of me. “My names Pierre nice to meet your Hailey” He smiled softly now it being my favorite thing he does even though we just met.

“Can I take you out sometime” he asked me making me look happy. “Yeah heres my number” I say giving him mmhmm number on a napkin. “Are you free right now” he asked me feeling surprised that he asked. “Yeah I am actually why” I asked confused on the question.

“Can I take you out right now” he wondered making me blush more and more probably looking ruby red. “I would love to” i mumbled feeling embarrassed from the blush on my face. “Let’s go I have a place in mind” He says softly holding my hand to take me outside.

“Is this the part where you kidnap me” I joked softly while taking his hand. “I don’t know do you want to get kidnapped by me” he chuckled making me giggle with him. “Maybe but seriously where are we going” I asked softly letting him lead the way to this random place.

“Welcome to the pretty pond that I found” he says softly showing me the pond that was glowing from the moonlight. I see fireflies everywhere admire the beautiful view. “You have no idea how much I need this, thank you” I say hugging him making him wrap his arms around my waist hugging me back. “Of course Mon ange” he whispered softly and smoothly in my ear.

“What does that mean” I asked him about the sudden nick name. “You’ll find out soon” smiled softly brushing my messy hair behind my ear making me blush more.

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Present

“I remember that day, I love it so much” I said softly scratching his head as he kissed my thighs a bit. “Talking to you was the best decision of my life. I don’t regret one thing about it” he mumbled against my thigh making me giggle. “Even when I’m being dramatic about chocolate” I said making him chuckle softly. “Even then I will never regret talking to you baby I love you” he said softly to me before leaning up to his me.

“I love you too baby” I say kissing him back softly making him grab my neck like he always did. He squeezed my neck still kissing me with such love and care like I was fragile and he was scared to break me. “Gosh Mon ange you’re so precious, it’s truly captivating” he whispered before going back to kiss me making me whimper softly. “Let’s go eat some dinner” he says before giving my neck one last squeeze.

He goes to the pantry and sees a familiar bag in the corner. “Mon ange” he called out making me hum. “What did you say you wanted from the store” he asked softly making me look confused. “Chocolate why” I asked while placing the plates on the island. “There’s chocolates right here” he said back with a funny look making me look at him with a guilty face.

… “Oops”

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Notes: tell me why I’m trying my hardest to get these 5 post out. Yes you read right FIVE. Anyways if you requested something don’t worry it’s coming out soon. And yes more smut is coming out real soon. Let’s just say it’s another threesome. Hope you enjoy!

[junedenim]

2010

beneath the boardwalk, part 8 (series masterlist)

glass in the park

warnings: the usual...angst, fluff, smut, etc.

word count: 13k

In late January, I bought a fur coat. I don't know if it's real or faux because I still haven't determined the difference in feeling between the authentic and the fake but I thrifted it so there's no guilt if it is made out of a poor chinchilla or something. It carried a dramatic feeling with it. I would wear it all the time. Sometimes, I would go out on walks just to wear it. I'd walk from my apartment to Grand Central and take the subway back just to make sure people saw it.

Alex returned to touring around the same time. While I was in a dirty slush-filled New York, Alex was travelling through the coastal cities of France. I knew it was cold there too but I'm sure it was much more conventionally beautiful and I envied him at times when I came home and my socks were soaked through.

We tried to talk on the phone daily, but time zones were difficult. We promised one another to always call on Saturday mornings for me so if we missed previous days in the week, I would always be able to tell him about my work week on Saturday.

Alex seemed to have everything and nothing going on. He'd play shows, get drunk or high, play ping-pong, take pictures of the Belem Tower, and watch Mighty Mouse.

I was busy. I liked it. My work would sometimes be straightforward office work, sometimes I'd visit places to review, sometimes they sent me home early to test products out, and sometimes they had me stay late to review products. I had a group of friends that I went out drinking with on Fridays and it was social drinking, not drinking to get drunk. One night, I ordered a Shirley Temple and laughed about it on the subway ride home at the thought of my younger self seeing me: a sober girl taking the subway home alone from the bar. It was nice to finally like myself. Or at least who I was becoming.

In my empty time, I wrote autobiographical things. I sometimes sent things to Alex but I found my writing became more introspective and it wasn't details I wanted to share with him. I was fearful of why I felt the need to hide it, but I didn't even feel much like reading it.

My friend, Fennel (he hates his name too), said it came from an overprotective biological need that all women must hide things from men, even if they are loving and trusting. I didn't think so. I told him I trusted Alex more than I trusted myself. He told me that was the issue.

Fennel cultivated weed on the balcony of his apartment in Murray Hill. He had a boyfriend named Kaka, who was a former Chippendales stripper and currently worked for Goldman Sachs. Sometimes, when he got drunk enough he'd reenact a routine. They were both in their early 40s, shared a dog named Rooster, and, still to this day, had the most luxurious apartment I have ever seen.

The building had a disheveled front but inside they had an open floor plan, a kitchen that was larger than my apartment, and the glorious aforementioned balcony. Fennel was a creative director at Condé Nast and had taken a liking to me because of my crooked teeth and what he called my "gemütlich" British accent.

I went over to their place nearly every week. They often had parties and I'd arrive in the early afternoon claiming to help them set up but I'd eat their fancy Bonilla a la Vista potato chips and play with Rooster. Their dinner parties were grandiloquent and their house parties were glamourously gauche.

One Sunday, I went over early through Fennel's insistence on dressing me. It was Pygmalion in a way or maybe I was the Edie Sedgwick to his Andy Warhol (I said this to him once and he took great offence because Warhol slept with Edie and he had no intention of taking advantage of me) but I quite liked it. I felt like a living doll and through his higher-up position and wealth, he was able to obtain fabulous pieces that he let me keep.

I walked around barefoot in their apartment wearing a Yohji Yamamoto (Fennel insulted me for not knowing who that was) white dress that flowed with every step I took while discussing Alex, who they had yet to meet.

"I can't believe you've been with him since you were 18." Kaka marvelled at this fact every time we talked about Alex.

"We had some brief pauses in there but yeah. You guys have been together for over a decade."

Fennel chuckled. "We were both in our 30s. It's quite the difference."

I sat on their black leather couch and leaned my head on the back of it. They were both setting the table. I was relaxing. "Yeah but isn't it hard at any age?"

"Sure but if I was still with the same person I was with at 18...well, that was a woman so it wouldn't count," Fennel laughed.

"Are you going to marry him?" Kaka asked. He was a complete romantic who would often say how much he loved love.

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know if I ever want to get married."

"Independence?" Fennel questioned as he pulled out a wine bottle.

"Parents."

"Ah," he sighed.

"But I have a feeling they always hated each other. I've always loved Alex. Does that make me lovesick and annoying?" I turned my head to ask them.

"Yes, but it's admirable. You seemed to have picked the right one. Good looking, loyal, you talk about him so sweetly," Kaka praised.

"I sometimes wonder if he picked the right one." It wasn't a newfound concern. I always felt secure in my relationship with Alex, not so much in myself. Occasionally, the worry of whether he could do better than me peeked itself out, usually when he was away and I didn't have the physical reassurance.

"Hush!" Kaka told me. "Any woman is better than a man. Take it from me." He kissed me on my cheek and it was nice to feel so fabulous. Fennel let me keep the Yamamoto. I try it on whenever I feel insecure.

*

I got sick on Valentine's Day. I had been unscathed for too long and on the morning of Alex's return from Europe—Valencia, Spain to be specific—I woke up with the urge to vomit. So, I vomited. And when Alex arrived home, I was vomiting.

I heard his bag drop while I was keeling over the toilet. The clacking of his boots on our wood floors stopped at the tile of our bathroom as he said, "Jesus, are you okay?" He hesitated, surely disgusted, before kneeling on the floor beside me, rubbing my back.

I had emptied most of my stomach and was dry heaving mostly. I slumped against the wall, catching my breath. "Welcome home." I managed a faint smile and my sarcasm didn't cause any laughter from Alex.

His hand stroked my forearm. He still had his jacket on and I was in my pajamas. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I just woke up nauseated."

"Food poisoning?" He suggested as he stroked his thumb over my knee.

I shook my head. "No, no. I feel fine now."

I attempted to stand up but Alex held me down. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just need to lay down for a little." I slowly stood, reorienting myself.

Alex, still kneeling proposal-style, offered, "Alright. Do you want me to carry you?"

I laughed. "I can manage to walk five feet to the bedroom, Alex." I headed toward our unmade bed.

"I can manage to carry you five feet to the bedroom." He wanted to make sure I knew that.

I smiled and to placate his need to help I had him get me a glass of water. He returned, jacket- and shoeless, with my glass of water. I took a sip and placed it on the bedside table we found at the Grand Bazaar last December. Alex sat in front of me, taking my feet into his lap. "You think it's the flu?"

I shook my head and slumped back onto the pillows up against the headboard. "No, no. I feel fine and I don't have a fever."

"Hungover?" He smirked, poking fun.

"No," I mocked. "An upset stomach. I'm fine now. How have you been? How was the flight?"

"Fine," he quickly answered. "Did you eat anything this morning?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine," I insisted. "How are you?"

"Fine. Do you want me to get you something? Tea? Crackers?" He continued to pester.

"No. Can we talk about something else or else I might vomit on you?" I crossed my arms, frustrated with myself for ruining the morning, frustrated with him for continuing to ruin this reunion.

"I'm just concerned something might be wrong. Should we go to the doctor?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine. I know my own body. It was just a little morning bug."

His eyes shot up and wide looking straight at me as if he had just gotten an electric shock. "Do you think you could be...?"

I took my feet off his lap, criss-crossing them. "Oh, god, I'm not pregnant. Calm down."

"You sure? When was your last...you know?" He moved his hand up and down in front of his stomach.

I raised my eyebrows and laughed. "Period? What are you? A 12-year-old boy, you can't say the word?"

He sat awkwardly, a nervous look on his face. "No, it's just, you know..."

"I don't know and I don't know where this sudden weird behavior of yours is coming from." I sipped on the water and rolled my eyes behind my closed lids.

He reached out to rub my knee again. It was becoming rather annoying like a fly pestering you. "I'm concerned. That's all. So? When was it?"

I shrugged. "Like a month ago. I don't know."

He was bug-eyed and staring into my soul. "Well, are you late?"

"I don't keep track of that stuff." It was probably laziness or maybe because I was on birth control. Granted, I wasn’t very regular with that anymore. I never liked taking it and Alex hadn’t been there for a month.

"You don't keep track!" He stood up, pacing like it was the 1950s and he was stuck in the hallway while I was giving birth.

"You don't even have a period." I crossed my arms and leaned further back into bed. I was tired. He must have been jet lagged too. Why weren’t we sleeping?

"Yeah, but I am having sex with you."

"We last had sex a month ago. I'm not pregnant."

"And have you had a period since?"

I sighed. "No."

He exhaled and his head fell to his chest. He looked like my father. His head slumped after my mother disappointed him. It terrified me. Like I had done something wrong by not shedding my uterine lining. I didn't feel pregnant. Alex's concern made me concerned but I was more scared by the way his head sank.

"Should I go buy a test?" I asked. I didn't feel like fighting that I wasn't. I got an eerie feeling like I was overhearing my parents fight but I had suddenly body swapped with my mother. It felt like some trust had snapped in between Alex and me. For him, he'll say it wasn't and that it was based solely on concern. I thought otherwise. Like his paranoia had overtaken him.

"I'll go," he offered.

I shook my head and went to my dresser for a change of clothes. "No, it's fine." It's wicked that in my mind I held more worry over someone catching Alex Turner with a pregnancy test than actually being pregnant.

I threw the fur coat on and made my way to the nearby CVS. I had never bought one before. I don't know if I thought I ever would but I suppose I imagined it over different circumstances—a happy one, maybe with someone beside me with equal excitement. I bought a tube of toothpaste and a bag of Cheetos. I still had vomit on my breath.

Alex was sitting on the couch when I returned. His fingers were tapping the armrest and he had the TV on The View but he held a locked stare with the front door, meeting my eyes as I walked in.

I tossed the plastic bag on the coffee table and collapsed on the couch beside him. "I don't have to pee."

"Okay."

I grabbed the remote sitting between us and began to flip channels. Not much of anything good was on that early. I felt Alex staring at me but he didn't speak so I didn't speak. I landed on Notting Hill. "I hate this movie," I said just to have something to say.

He didn't say anything. Not even a Hugh Grant joke.

A half-hour passed in silence beside the movie before I stood up, dug the box out, and went to the bathroom. Not a word from Alex. I slammed the bathroom door shut.

I fumbled with the test for a while, struggling to open the box's lid. I wondered if Alex didn't join me in the bathroom because he thought I needed privacy or because he was upset. I think he was mostly just a scared little boy.

He felt so little to me in that moment and not in the way I loved. He was small and made my blood boil, even if I couldn't fully blame him for his concern. But his silence bugged me. His impassive form on the couch, a refusal to move or communicate. He had a habit of getting in his own head and barring entry. He'd say it was his personality. I'd say it was immaturity.

I took the test and waited for the results to appear alone in the bathroom. Negative, as expected. Still, I was left with uncertainty about what to do. I was mad at him but I didn't want to yell. I was relieved but I didn't want to celebrate. I was left where he was: silence.

Alex was still where I had left him. I put the test on the coffee table and sat down beside him, the last 10 minutes of Notting Hill playing. But he didn't move to look at it. His head turned to me instead. He was reading my face rather than the test. I stayed neutral and stared onward, refusing his enticing gaze.

"I'm sorry if I made you..." He hadn't fully grasped what I was thinking. I tend to think men and women are mostly the same but I find our biological difference is showcased in those times of stress. "It's negative. Right?"

I nodded, staring at Julia Roberts, arms crossed. "Mhmm."

He scooted closer to me. "Jane." His hand landed on my sweatpants-covered thigh and my eyes decided to finally snap over to him, small, tiny, scared little boy Alex. "I would've..."

"What?"

He looked at me as if he didn't expect a reaction from me. His expression was stunned and his hand stilled. "I don't know." You brought his hand up to his forehead, pushing his long strands back over his head. He took a deep breath. "This whole morning has felt like whiplash."

I scoffed, "Yeah." My head turned away from him. I was battered with the feeling of numbness. In the past, I think I would've cried. Or yelled. Now, I felt indifferent. I didn't know how to feel about that either.

"Have I ruined Valentine's Day?" He asked in an attempt to make me laugh.

I shut off the TV and stood up. "Yeah." I walked away to the bedroom. Alex stayed out in the living room.

When I went out to the kitchen, Alex was asleep on the couch. I made as much noise in the kitchen as possible to wake him up. I knew he was jet lagged and tired but I was a scorned woman.

I started the tea kettle and turned around to see a yawning Alex. "Do you want tea?" I offered.

He shook his head and placed his hands on the back of a chair. "I'm sorry for being an asshole." I turned away, not particularly interested in looking at him, instead I searched for a mug. "I suppose I have a habit of that. But I figured we could go out tonight. Go to a pub. Get some drinks."

Alex smiled, proud of himself for upholding a minimal tradition in my eyes. "I have plans tonight."

I didn't expect him to roll over and die. "Oh. Okay." He sat down on one of the stools and said nothing else.

There was no fight in him, meaning I had to be the one to fight. "Fennel and Kaka are having a party. I told them we'd go."

"That'll be fun.” He sent me a complacent smile. “I'll finally get to meet them."

I smiled back just as limitingly. "They've heard a lot."

He looked down at his hands. "Bad, I'm sure."

I exhaled. "I don't hate you, Alex."

"Feels like it." He was moody and refused eye contact, almost like he was me. We had been around each other for so long that we had become each other. People would say this to me but I rarely saw it.

"Call it PMSing. It just wasn't the best greeting."

He nodded, the understanding slowly seeping into him. "I know. I'm sorry for that."

"I woke up early to be awake when you got back and there I go getting sick."

He looked guilty. Solemn and culpable. "I should be making you tea."

I turned back with a smile. "Yeah. You should."

He walked closer and hugged my side. He placed a kiss on my temple and squeezed me close to him. "Go sit down. I'll bring this over to you."

I kissed his cheek. "Alright."

*

Fennel and Kaka's apartment was stuffed with everything. People, liquor, drugs, music, hearts. Alex wore a white shirt with a suit jacket over top. I wore a pink floral Roberto Cavalli cocktail dress, Fennel provided. Maybe it was because of our fight earlier or maybe I had just changed since I had seen Alex last, but I held a superiority complex over him. The silk of my dress wrapped me in elegance and the rough quality of his suit jacket. Oh, shit, I was becoming posh.

Looking back, I wasn't dignified or aware enough that my mother held these opinions of my father as well. However, I was also in a bitter state, and even Alex said I looked better than him so I wasn't really kidding myself.

People held cocktails and canapés were being moved throughout the room. Alex and I stood in the corner silently, I sipped the edge of my gimlet to keep it from spilling. Alex drank a whiskey. I kept thinking about it, in an ashamed way, but then I found humour in it and thought it best to break the ice and tell Alex what I was thinking. "We really are my mother and father."

He turned, originally with a neutral look on his face before spotting the crack of my smile. He breathed laughter out and lifted his glass, taking a slow sip from it. I imagine he was looking for something to say. We hadn't spoken for so long that his vocal chords must’ve needed a refresher course. He dropped the glass to his side. "I hope all the good parts."

I chuckled. "You say that like there are some."

He tossed his head side-to-side. "They've always had elegance to them. They intimidate me. The way the act is, you know..." He moved his hand like he was fishing for the word, trying to find it in the ocean of his mind.

"Posh?" I suggested.

His jaw dropped. "Now, Janie, I would never say that."

"Oy! Jane Cavendish!" It was Fennel, approaching us with Kaka following behind him. They were both dressed in matching maroon suits, each with a cocktail. "Beautiful. Always beautiful. And this must be Alex. Oh, how we've waited for this moment."

"Don't say that. You'll make him nervous," I told them. Alex didn't like it when I told people this. He found it to be invasive for other people—those not close to him—to know his emotions. I found Fennel and Kaka to be trustworthy of this information.

Alex peered over at me like I was his mother embarrassing him in front of his friends. "It's nice to finally meet you both." He shook their hands and they were both very impressed by this. I could tell.

"You both look lovely," I told them.

"Ralph Lauren," Fennel replied. He moved his hand down the fabric of his suit. "Red velvet. Feel." He reached out for my hand and rubbed it up against the velvet, the smoothness running under my fingers. "Now, you, Alex." He grabbed Alex's hand doing the same. It was awkward and made me giggle but Fennel always had a way of putting people at ease. At the sound of my enjoyment, Alex chuckled, nodding his head in approval of the fabric choice.

Kaka told Alex, "Has Jane told you how jealous we are of you two?"

Alex looked over at me at the knowledge of this news. "No, no. Why?" He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"The romance," Kaka swooned. "I wish I could have met Fennel sooner but we were a mess at your age. To find your love so early and keep it going and in the way you two are. If I was doing that at 23, I'd be a mess. Young love is just so lovely. Sorry, I'm a little inebriated."

Alex chuckled. "That's fine."

"You're a very beautiful couple," Fennel said. "I know a lot of ugly ones. Inside and out."

"Well, we had a fight before this so, if that brings us down from paradise for a bit." Alex seemed shocked I had said this. I thought I sounded like my 17-year-old self again. It was honest to me but it was also childish.

Fennel waved his hands. "Fights are great. You should have makeup sex in the bathroom."

I asked, "But where will everyone do coke?" We all laughed. Alex too, if not out of humour than of peer pressure.

Hours passed. We talked with some of my co-workers and Fennel's and Kaka's cultured friends. While Alex was in the bathroom, I talked with David Remnick and nearly fainted out of nervousness because I couldn't remember how to say Ibuprofen.

Alex and I went to the balcony to smoke. The city rushed by below and we each lit a cigarette up alone. I sighed and leaned on the railing, my head in my hand. It was so hot in the apartment but I felt so chilly outside as the wind rushed by. I felt Alex place his hand on my back. He was like a hot water bottle. He knocked against my spine like he was checking to make sure all my vertebrae were still in place. "You look like Juliet."

I turned my head to look at him but his head was off to the left, the smoke escaping out of the side of his mouth. He looked like he was stargazing, even though he couldn't have seen any in that light-polluted sky. His touch on me was this firm thing. I had never felt him so strongly like he wanted me to know he was still standing there beside me.

"The moon is so bright," he said. I looked into his eyes, searching for it in there. I followed his line of sight before my own landed on the glowing sphere hanging up in the sky. It stood bold against the black void surrounding it.

I looked at Alex, bold as ever. I couldn't manage anything with my tongue. I just stared at him while he stared at the moon. I don't know if he felt my eyes on him or if he was so enraptured with the moon that he couldn't handle looking anywhere else.

I sighed, standing up straight. I don't know what I was thinking by standing up so quickly. I don't know why I didn't just stay there and watch him for hours. "I've never understood the whole man-in-the-moon thing."

Alex shrugged, still staring above. "You can see anything if you look long enough."

I scuffed my cigarette out on the railing but kept the dog end in my hand. "Do you think if I stare at it long enough I'll see you?"

He hummed his response. I wasn't sure if we were speaking in some kind of code or just dancing around one another's words. Everything felt off, even if we looked so on track. I was uneasy in finding a response. He acted like he wanted to be alone but his hand persisted its touch on my back. His lips wrapped around his smoke and his eyes stared off into the lights of the city.

My arms crossed and I stood at what felt like such a distance. I stepped sideways, figuring Alex to be done with me and on to his stargazing. I'd have greater engagement talking to the walls inside and at least then I'd have a cocktail too. I turned away and his hand grazed across my back as I moved.

"I feel like I've done something wrong," Alex finally spoke. I had my back to him and it felt like I may never look at him again. Either he or my feet wouldn't allow me to turn around to see him. "I overstepped earlier."

My hand went to my forehead and it was like my brain was going to swell up and push itself out of my skull. I spun around on my heels. He was leaning back against the rail nonchalantly but held such caution in his bones. His eyes had a hard time staying on mine as he committed to the nervous habit of playing with his nails and tapping the end of his cigarette. "It's fine. I don't want to fight about it. I'm tired."

"Okay." He deflected his silence onto me, acting as if I was the one causing tension between us. Earlier that was the case but I dropped it in the kitchen and moved on with life. The whole day Alex held a wall around him. It wasn't a new thing for him to have his guard up, but I usually wasn’t the one blocked from entering.

I swore to myself long ago, after our break-up in '07 that I wouldn't be accusatory to Alex. Trust had always been strong but we always had a weak link. His stare now penetrated me and I felt like the nervous one. My arms stayed crossed but my hands began to squeeze the sides of me and I looked away, inside at the party, which had grown louder as the pretense of class had dropped with the amount of alcohol and drugs. "Did something happen on tour?"

My eyes moved back at his quietness. I had a sick feeling in my stomach but I didn't feel like I had a right to. I'm the one who fucked up before so I'd forgive him if he did now. Instead of guilt, he stared at me like he didn't know what language I was speaking. "No. Why?"

I don't know if he wanted me to feel sorry for him because I was accusing him of something that he didn't do or if he was as lost as I was when it came to this stalemate. "You just seem off. That's all."

He shrugged. "It's been a weird day." I was hit with a wave and I'm still figuring out whether it was from nostalgia or because I actually did see it but I swore he looked 17 again at that moment. I'll always see glimpses of that. The locked-in memory of his first impression. Through his long hair and whatever frustration he seemed to have, I smiled because we were standing in a garden. One that was on a balcony and was mainly weed other than one pot of zinnias.

I dropped my arms and plucked at the fabric of my dress. I didn't tell him what I thought. I thought myself to be a little childish in my reminiscing but it was Valentine's Day and I don't know why we went to this party because I always just wanted Alex to myself. I was a desperate woman with a sole propensity to be alone with Alex, especially when it was the day of his homecoming. I blamed it on my period, which I got the following day (not pregnant).

"You didn't want to come here tonight?" I said it as a question but it was a statement. I was already sure of Alex's stance. His inability to relax around strangers and his reluctance to engage in small talk. I knew he also had an inclination to be alone with me.

He played nice though. Always gave in to me easily on these kinds of dilemmas because it's what I wanted. He couldn't give me much in other areas (I had just finally won the whole location problem) so he found it expected to do what I wanted to do when he was around. But, sometimes (I use sometimes very loosely because I do in fact like getting my way), I liked doing what he wanted to do. Most of all, my favourite thing was talking to him. So, why would I spend a whole night chit-chatting with other people? (Besides, David Remnick because that really was a dream come true).

"I'm having fun." He wasn't very convincing. A tone of neutrality and a shrug of his shoulders that just looked like disinterest.

I chuckled to myself. "I'd like to give myself some credit. I know you better than anyone else so I know that you're full of shit."

He laughed and finally dropped his cigarette and his rough shoulders. "I'm just tired."

"Sure," I dragged out, unconvinced. "I'm kind of wishing we just went to a pub or something."

Alex looked down and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah. I'm wishing a lot of things right now."

My brows furrowed and I wanted to look closer at him but his hand and hair shielded his expression. "Like what?"

He put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the city. "I don't know. I think I'm just a little messed up right now."

I stepped forward, wanting to stand next to him, wanting to touch him. I moved close enough that he was forced to look at me. "What's going on?"

The browns of his eyes looked darker and shinier as if they had been glazed over. I wanted to touch his face and have him lean into my hand, but I wanted to hear what he had to say first. He fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket but I had him cornered. "Just in my head. The usual."

"About what? Me?" It might have been selfish to think so but he looked like he might cry while looking at me and I don't think I had felt that insecure in front of Alex in years.

He shook his head. "I don't even want to say it. It's so stupid."

"I don't want you to leave it in there."

His eyes darted in a million directions before landing on mine. "Just things are changing."

It took me a second to understand. It took me a gust of wind passing before I pointed to myself. "Me?"

He rattled his brain with the shake of his head. "I'm just in my head, Janie."

I grabbed his upper arm, forcing him to take notice of me. "Well, let me in. You know, I like when we talk." I smiled up at him and he released the hint of a smile, a sparkle behind his eyes. "I like knowing what's going on and what you have to say, what you're thinking. I don't get much of that while you're away and I think we both stew in our thoughts for so long that we're practically bored of it by the time we see the other and then we think we don't have to bother saying anything. But I've never heard about this and I want to know about this. I want to know about you if you let me."

A grin covered his face, so wide his teeth peeked through to wave to me. "What?" I asked. His smile just seemed to grow bigger and his eyes cast down on me. I thought he might kiss me but I'm glad he didn't, I didn't want to get distracted. "What?" I insisted, punching his leaning figure.

"Nothing," he said so cheerfully. I thought he might have taken something to cause this sudden change. He put his hand on my shoulder like he wanted to touch me but wanted to make sure we kept our distance. "I just love the way you talk. I don't know. Like the way you know how my brain works and you feel everything I'm feeling. I just...I love talking to you too. It's what I've always loved about you. I feel like I can't do this with anyone else. Just lay myself out and never have to worry. I think I forgot the feeling."

I wrapped my arm around his neck, closing the distance, and having us stand chest-to-chest. "We'll blame the jetlag."

"Sorry for being moody. I think it's an after-effect of prolonged homesickness."

"It's fine. I suffer from it too." It made me smile that we both considered each other home. It was cheesy and cliche but that didn’t make it untrue.

"Do you think there's a cure?" He moved closer and it took me that long to realize we hadn't kissed all day between the vomit and the fighting and the party. I should be put in jail for this.

I didn't kiss him right away. I hugged him first just to feel him, make sure he was there, all of him. "I might start with getting out of here."

Alex insisted, "Don't make me force you to leave."

"I wouldn't if I didn't want to. I'm craving shitty fries and chairs that squeak." And him. I really craved him.

"You love it when we play poor together."

"I love when we're together." We finally kissed at that point, waiting any longer felt like too much. He was right with me and I never wanted him to leave. If we kissed any longer we might have fallen off the side of the balcony. Together.

I dragged him through the apartment with me, trailing like my puppy but he was my loyal dog. His hand was clasped in mine and I kissed both Kaka's and Fennel's cheeks and promised to have dinner sometime soon for a more proper introduction to Alex. "Enjoy your Valentine's, love," Kaka said in his drunken impersonation of a British accent.

"You too," Alex said for both of us.

He put my fur coat on me and we left onto the sidewalk of the loved-up city. We decided to walk back in the direction of our apartment and land at a shitty bar along the way. We walked side-by-side like we were two anxious teenagers again. I suppose we had regressed in the absence of one another and the readjustment was more structurally unsound than usual.

"So, uh," I started, "you think I've changed too much?"

He threw his head back. "Don't listen to me."

I grabbed his arm, tugging on it. "No, I want you to be honest with me. None of this evasiveness."

Alex put his arm around my shoulder, pushing me into him. "I'm just catching up a little. You've been busy while I've been gone and I like that."

"But too much too quick?" Fennel and Kaka and the load of other people they had in their apartment could be too much. It overwhelmed me at times and I knew most of the people in the room.

We stopped at a corner, waiting for a light. He turned his head to look directly at me. "Just give me a bit of a grace period." He smiled so carefully. Not in a calculated way but to reaffirm his statement.

I smiled back. "I'd give you anything you want." It was probably too much to give a person, something I wasn't even willing to give to myself, but we were sharing a desperate kind of love. It wasn't the healthiest but he was the only person I knew would love me no matter what.

He seemed struck by this statement, unable to tear his eyes away to spot the green light in front of us. I pointed ahead at it but he didn't move his feet. He bent down and kissed my cheek firmly. I think he would have stayed there forever if I hadn't pushed him and insisted we cross the street before the light turned red again. He leaned down and whispered, "Ditto."

We stopped at The Scratcher in the East Village. It was Irish but akin to English by nature. It had exposed brick and when I asked the bartender for a Guinness (me) and lager shandy (Alex) he talked with me about England long after he had given me our drinks. The lighting was low and it was late but the bar was still full with mostly lonely hearts, save us and a few other couples.

Alex found us a table in the back corner by a group of rowdy men and for a bit it did feel like we were back home. "That's what I love about New York," I mused to him. "I find pieces of home here. I never found that in Los Angeles. Too deserty."

Alex leaned his cheek on his fist. His eyes looked tired but his smile stayed exercising. "You seem really happy here."

I shrugged. It was hard to admit these things. Like if I spoke it out loud it would cease to be true. "I guess, in a way, it feels like it’s something I did on my own. I know I'm not alone but...you know what I mean."

His eyes flashed down at the table and he sat up straight, leaning back against his chair. "Yeah. I know what you mean." He sipped his drink and I could tell he was going to say something once he washed his words down. "I really like it here too." The infliction in his voice was distracted as if he was thinking about 10 other things. I didn't know which one to ask about.

"Tour's almost over." I was ashamed that it flew by for me. Maybe because I was more occupied. I thought it should have felt like it dragged on forever. The way I used to feel about it. Granted it was shorter than the previous tours but I had never been this involved with Alex. We shared a home now, yet, his things—his clothes next to mine and the record collection collecting dust—didn't make me long for him, yearn for him. Perhaps, it was growing up. Perhaps, it was growing apart.

I circled my finger around my glass's edge. "I don't know if I'll be able to get off for the London shows."

"That's fine." He has always been so accepting. Like most things, it was a blessing and curse. Sometimes, I hated that he didn't put up a fight. He never told me what he desired, even with things like LA. It was a work obligation, not something he wished for. Maybe it's because I always wanted too much and Alex balanced it out by wanting too little.

"I got off work tomorrow. If you want to do anything."

He smirked. "I have one idea." Alex did desire some things.

*

I cut Alex's hair a week later. He complained of it being too long and I suggested he go to the barber and then he said I should do it. It was late but we were very happy.

We shared a glass of wine. I had Alex sit in the bathtub and I kneeled on the tile floor. We washed it first and then emptied the bathtub before I began to cut it. "What if you end up not liking it?" I questioned. I wasn't nervous. If anything I was power-hungry holding the kitchen scissors.

"I'll like it. It'll grow back either way. How bad could you fuck it up?” He chuckled before saying, “Last time you did this we broke up. Can't fuck up more than that."

His laughter induced me to join him. I sipped the wine before passing it to him. It felt very adult and I told him that. He said, "I could do this forever."

*

Alex experienced his first nor'easter blizzard at the end of February. I had experienced my first at the beginning of the month. He was quite excited for it. It was childish excitement like he was going to receive a snow day. I suppose his snow day was the fact that I didn’t have to go to work. I ended up getting Thursday and Friday off, which, well, did feel like a snow day.

However, it was cold. Like really cold. We ventured outside at the start of the storm to collect groceries and experience the snowfall. We got into a snowball outside our building’s front door before the snow turned to slush. Alex accidentally ended up hitting Russ Tillerson, who lived on the floor below us. He had a good spirit and laughed before shoving snow down Alex’s back, smushed in between his skin and his coat.

It took me a good few minutes to recover from laughter over Alex’s shivers. “It’s not fun,” he insisted, still patting snow out.

I hit his thick jacket with my gloved hand. “You’re not a good sport.”

He pouted and whined, “I don’t want to be a good sport. I want to be warm.”

I stroked his cheek, rubbing the icicle crystals stuck on my glove onto his skin making him wince. “Awwww. Poor baby. I’ll run you a bath when we get back.” He quite enjoyed that bath.

The days were fun but long. We watched TV and had sex for most of it. We ate sloppy like we were at a slumber party. We got high Friday night while watching Goodfellas. I ate a bag of salt & vinegar chips and half a pack of Chips Ahoy! Alex ate a whole pack of Oreos and drank enough Coke to shut down your organs.

“I’m sorry I’m so high,” I apologized.

He waved me off and sunk deeper into the couch pillows. “It’s fine. I wish we had more Coke.”

“We could do coke coke.”

“You have coke coke?”

“No. But we could get some?” It was candy in my new circle. Easy to obtain, sweet to do, horrible for you.

“Nah,” he rejected. “You’ve done it?”

“Yeah. I used to do it with…what’s his name…Robert.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry I’m so quiet,” I apologized again.

“You’re good.”

“Ray Liotta is so hot.”

“You’re so hot.”

“Mhmm.” My eyes moved away from blue eyes to Alex’s brown. He had sat up from his slump and was leaning on the armrest, observationally. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” He smirked, all-knowing.

“You know…how horny I get…” His smirk grew. “Don’t look at me like that!”

He curled his fingers, beckoning me to him. “Come here. Let me do you.”

I laughed and closed my eyes, prepared to succumb to sleep. His foot knocked mine. “What?”

“C’mon.”

He came to me. And, well, in me.

*

Alex left halfway through March, narrowly missing another nor’easter, but this time less severe. Opal came a few days later for work. She stayed at the Bowery Hotel, a few blocks east of me. I had walked by it a million times and always longed to go in. It was my second most desired hotel after the Plaza. 

She was there for work but apparently now had a boyfriend there too but that was all supposed to be obvious. Opal talked about things like you already knew everything about it. She told outlandish stories where she'd say, "You know how Charlie is" when I had never heard of Charlie before. Nonetheless, she was exciting and good company.

Alex was in Baltimore by the time I called him while drunk. Opal and I had gone to House of Yes and said yes to every drink along the way. Opal left with some guy who wasn't her boyfriend but it's okay because they had an open relationship, I think. Therefore, I was left outside House of Yes going home alone. I don't blame Opal for ditching me; the guy was hot and I insisted she go by saying I wasn't drunk, just tipsy.

I called Alex and lit up a cigarette at the same time. He picked up after 2 rings while I was still muffled by the cigarette in between my teeth. "Hiya, honey," I mumbled.

I heard laughing, either from him or the drunkards around him. He had been drinking too but not heavily. "Hey, sweetie." He moved away from the sound. I imagined him tucking himself away in the back end of the tour bus.

"I'm needy and I miss you," I whined.

His soft chuckling rang through the phone. "What's that mean?"

"It means I'm walking to the subway in Brooklyn." I scraped my heels against the cement.

"Ah. You and Opal have fun?"

"Yeah, but I'm drunk and alone. She's probably having sex right now. Everyone is having sex right now." House of Yes was a very sexual place in 2010.

"I'm not."

"Yeah,” I giggled. “I figured that one out. Could you imagine? You're on the phone with me having sex."

"What? Like phone sex?" He teased me.

I scolded him, "I'm not having phone sex in public. I meant like you were fucking someone else and on the phone with me."

"Why would I fuck someone else?" His tone was puzzled and I think he was drunker than I thought he was at the time.

"I don't know. I'm drunk. There's no logic to my thinking."

"I don't think I'll ever have sex with someone else. It'd be weird."

"I'd have sex with other people."

"Really?" He didn’t sound worried. Just curious.

"Yeah. Like George Clooney or something."

"I'll let you have Clooney. I’d fuck Clooney."

"Nah. He wouldn't settle down with me anyway."

There was a pause of silence before he expressed, "Miss you."

"Yeah. Me too."

He buzzed as if the words were sinking in. "End of the month and then I'm all yours."

"I like that idea. I've been hanging out with Opal so much I think she's starting to hate me."

"No. She just needs hot ass like the rest of us." It had been a very lonely month in the sex department.

"I'm not hot ass?"

"You're the hottest ass."

"Subway's here."

"Okay. Let me know when you're home."

"Yeah. Love you."

He hummed in agreement.

*

Alex returned at the end of April. We relaxed back into domestic obliviousness. That weekend, we went over for dinner at Fennel and Kaka's. We drank wine, ate fancy chicken, and played with Rooster. 

We sat at one end of their dining room table. Alex's nervousness had faded but he remained stiff, the obvious odd man out. We were laughing about work and Sally Condalteen's explosible haircut, all out of Alex's frame of reference. 

Fennel, observing this, gasped and said, "I just realized I haven't even heard the story of how you two met."

I turned to Alex, who was looking at me. I was like a mother training a child to speak for themselves. "You tell it. I've never heard your side of things."

"Okay. Uh, well, Jane had a class with Matt, who is the drummer of, you know, the band, and he invited her to our first gig. We sort of knew each other—small college and that kind of thing—but never talked. So, at the venue, I went up to her and called her the wrong name. The whole night I figured I screwed things up and made a fool of myself. Then, I'm outside smoking and she comes out and I thought maybe I wouldn't say anything but then I realized I'd probably never get another chance, so..."

"You went for it?" Kaka, a big woosy romantic, grinned.

"Obviously," I answered.

"What about you? What did you think when he came up to you?" Fennel asked me.

I shrugged. "Nervous. I think. After, terrified."

"Why?" He was like a psychologist desperate to get to the bottom of things.

I shrugged. I didn't want to reveal my whole emotional state to them but their eyes stared at me. "He knew me better in one conversation than anyone in my life. It's stupid."

"No!" Fennel insisted. "It makes me believe in soulmates."

"Oh, god," I exhaled exasperatedly, rolling my eyes.

Kaka swatted at me. "Don't be so pessimistic."

"I have to be. I'm a realistic woman." Or a doubtful one. I was a recovering romantic at best.

Fennel turned his bark onto Alex. "You think you'll marry her, Alex?"

"Don't answer that,” I quickly insisted. “They're wanting to cause trouble. They did the same thing with me."

Alex looked tempted but listened to my instructions. He turned to the two men. "How'd you two meet?"

When we left there was a drizzle of rain. Not enough to wet your clothes, but enough to huddle close to one another as we walked to the subway. Alex squeezed my hip, playing with the sculpture of the bone. "Do you want to get married?"

"We've talked about this." The whole subject made me feel awkward. I felt too young for the subject.

But then Alex said, "No. I mean, do you want to get married tonight?"

"It's midnight!" Deflection.

"Then, in the morning."

I shook my head. "No."

Alex looked like the air had been taken out of him. He readjusted and continued walking. "Okay."

"Maybe in like two years." Or two decades. The whole thing gave me body sweats.

"What's the difference between now and 2 years?" He didn’t ask it accusatorially. He was inquisitive.

"We're 24!” Frontal lobe and all that. “I can't tell if you're being serious now or not?"

He lightly shook his hair around. "Maybe a little. If you wanted to, I would. I'd do whatever for you. If I can give it to you, I will."

"Are you sure?" He worried me too much when he talked about giving things to me. He had always stretched himself and I was sure one day he would break.

He squeezed my hand. "What's going on?"

"What's going on with you? This overcompensation or whatever. I don't want you to give me everything. Keep some for yourself."

He looked at me for a moment, thinking it over. Then, he said, "Fine. Half to you then."

"40%."

"45%."

*

We went to Coney Island because I really wanted to ride the Cyclone. It was the first really hot day of the year. Unknown to us, it was also Memorial Day Weekend, which meant the beaches were open, which meant everyone, their mother, and their grandmother were at Coney Island.

Alex could wait in lines. I could whine to Alex while we waited in lines. He bought us enough tickets to ride the Cyclone and then go home because I was miserable in the heat and in line. But the line to get on the Cyclone was long and we had been standing there for what felt like hours.

"It's been 5 minutes," he noted. "We can come back another day."

"No," I moaned. "I want to do it today. I had it all planned out. I had planned to ride a rollercoaster today."

He laughed. "How do you plan to ride a rollercoaster?"

"You eat light so you don't throw up."

Alex tossed his head back in laughter. Suddenly, he snapped his head down with a concerned look on his face. "Have you not eaten anything today?"

"Well, yeah, I didn't want to throw up."

"God,” he scoffed, “no wonder you're in a horrible mood."

"I'm not in a horrible mood."

He gave me a look. He grabbed my hand and yanked us out of line. "Where are we going?"

"To eat. The Cyclone will still be there next weekend."

When we went next weekend, I loved the Cyclone and wanted to ride every ride there. I then threw up after the tilt-a-whirl.

*

I wrote a piece for The Paris Review in June. Alex sent it to what felt like everyone we knew. He attached it with a note that The Paris Review was located in New York and not Paris. He was very fascinated by that.

He had flown to London for the theatrical release of Submarine when the piece was published. It felt like a mighty contrast. The songs Alex had written for Submarine were what I would describe as the last box that had yet to be unpacked in our apartment. They were vulnerable but covered in metaphors I'm not sure anyone understood other than me. 

He had played them for me, asked for my opinion, revised, and played again. It was the first time Alex workshopped music with me since "Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts." I always thought it was because he didn't have the band to work with. He has denied this and said that the songs were meant for me first, the movie was inconsequential. I'm not sure how true that is and how much Alex just wants to take credit for being a romantic or something. 

Either way, he wrote me a note before he left. He tucked it in my journal to make sure I wouldn't find it until he left. It read, There’s a piece of you in this, and in me.

My piece was fictional. It was about a girl who drinks too much coffee. It's hard to explain without it sounding stupid. 

I didn't write about Alex much. Opal found this weird when I had shown her my work last year. She said he was such a big part of me that it seemed bizarre I didn't write about him. My explanation, mostly, was the protective quality I held over Alex. His songs were shielded in forty different metaphors before you got to me. In my work, as evidence here, I name names, especially in these years when my name was so attachable to Alex’s.

I had shifted back to writing fiction because that's what most literary magazines like The Paris Review accepted. Of course, I'm not a girl who drinks too much coffee at all.

I liked the stability of the Condé Nast job but I had been indulging myself in fantasies of writing a book again. When Alex returned to New York, I told him this over lunch. We went to Lexington Candy Shop, which is a diner, not a candy shop. Another thing Alex wouldn’t shut up about.

I drank a malt shake (coffee-flavoured) and Alex had a Coke (the old-fashioned way where the syrup and soda water is stirred together, not the really old-fashioned way with coke like Alex wouldn't stop joking about) while we waited for our food. "I think I want to go for it."

Alex was contagious. You could believe you could do anything with that smile. "You should. You have one guaranteed customer."

"Well, you'd read anything I'd write."

"'Cause it's good."

"Don't butter me up."

"Come on, you know you're a great writer, Janie. You don't get into The Paris Review as a shite writer."

"Shut up about The Paris Review," I laughed.

I reached across and squeezed my hand. It made me squirmish. "I'm never shutting up about The Paris Review and that's because I read this really good piece about coffee in it and—"

"Stop talking about coffee too. You're making me stressed."

"Ease up. You'll be a New York Times bestseller by this time next year."

I stood up, running away from his stress-inducing words. "I'm going to the bathroom."

He crossed his arms. "That won't change anything."

We returned home. Alex put on a record and I decided to act like I was reading a book until Alex sat beside me. Then, I decided to makeout with him. Hormones. I'm not sure what his excuse was since he wouldn't stop grabbing my ass. "Are we about to have sex to The Beatles?" I asked as "All My Loving" sounded out through our apartment.

"Yeah. It's what John Lennon would have wanted." He pushed me down into the couch cushions. I was the meat in a sandwich between the two.

"I love this song," I mused against his lips.

"Good,” he huffed. “Let's fuck to it."

"Stop," I shrieked, laughing too hard to focus on his penis. I pushed him up off of me and sat up, collecting the trash that had accumulated on the coffee table.

Like any typical guy, he said, "Come on, Janie, I had to take care of this myself all week."

I knocked, "You masturbated all week?"

"I did other things too," he joked.

I was slightly fishing for a compliment but I was genuinely curious too when I asked, "What do you do it too?"

He laughed at my question. He scruffed my hair up. "You, you fucking idiot. What else? What do you think about?"

I shrugged. "I don't masturbate."

"Liar."

"I don't," I insisted.

"You told me you used to have a vibrator."

"Not anymore." I hadn’t thought to bring it through customs. It was tossed around the London to LA move.

"You don't masturbate? Why?" Alex was still stuck in that heightened sexual teenage boy phase. It made it so sex seemed like the only answer. He eventually grew out of this but it was an enduring fixture of his personality for a while.

I shrugged. "I don't like it."

"How can you not like it?”

"I get all sad after. I don't really do it anymore." It made me depressed for the whole day after. I would think about growing up too quickly and dying alone. Maybe that’s just how I was in the aughts. I didn’t give it up completely. Things would change soon after this conversation. I also got on anti-depressants. 

"Why?"

"Is it shocking that someone isn't thinking about sex 24/7?"

"Well, yeah.” I did think about it often but not like Alex, still-not-fully-matured did. “I'm not good enough to masturbate to." Now, he was fishing for compliments.

I stood up from the couch and walked to the garbage bin. "No, it's more like...the other way."

He turned to me with an open jaw. "I'm that good in bed?"

"Don't get an inflated ego on me. I'll refuse to have sex with you if you start boasting."

"I won't boast. I'll just show off." He pulled me down, stuffing me between him and the couch. He made a great effort into "proving it." In a way, it kind of ruined it. I mean, he had this smug look on his face the whole time and he was so into the thought that he was good at it that he started to not be good at it.

"When you get off your pedestal, sir, can you actually fuck me?" I asked.

He seemed to snap out of it and realized he was inside me and not himself. "Fuck. Sorry."

Later, around "Devil in Her Heart," Alex laid his head on my stomach. He'd move around and kiss around my stomach, sometimes rising up to my breasts, but mainly hanging out around my belly button. 

I sighed from exhaustion, lust, and resignation. "I have to get glasses."

Alex laughed against my liver. "You can see fine. I think you've got a couple decades before you have to worry about glaucoma."

"No. The doctor told me I have to get glasses."

Alex seemed to find this really funny. "Are you serious? You're gonna look so geeky."

"Gee, thanks."

He kissed my diaphragm repeatedly. "I like nerds. Are you going to have to wear them all the time?"

"No, just at night. I've been struggling in the dark."

"You're gonna get night vision. Like Batman."

I got the glasses about a week later and I walked back into the apartment wearing them. Alex looked up from the couch, placed his hand over his heart, and said, "Everyone must hate you."

I tossed my keys in the little dish by the door that Alex had made it at a ceramics session that we did together about a month prior. "Enlighten me," I said with a laugh.

"You're just fucking gorgeous, Janie," Alex decided. He looked back down at his book like I burned his eyes.

I kicked my shoes off. "Careful. I'll get a complex."

"What? Like you'll finally believe me."

"I believe you," I promised. I had grown confident in myself or at least confident enough in Alex to believe he wasn't lying to me. "Or I'll try to."

I sat down beside him on the couch and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Here," he pointed his finger to the middle of the page, "read this sentence."

I rolled my eyes but obliged. "'So they went on for a good while, talking now of their cards and now about me, as though I were not in the room'—how long do I have to do this for?"

He smashed his lips against my cheek. "That's all." He returned to his book and I ordered us dinner.

A few days later, we were trapped inside due to the pouring rain. I was working on a review for work and Alex was reading. He had a cigarette in his mouth but it was unlit. I think he was going through the motions but couldn't go outside to smoke it and I refused to let him smoke indoors. 

My feet poked at the side of his body. Every five minutes or so, I'd poke my toes into him. He'd laugh, whether provoked or ticklish, it was an acknowledgment of our presence with one another. 

Thunder pounded through and Alex squeezed my foot to get my attention. I looked up at him through my lenses. He smirked, which I knew meant he was thinking something foul. "Can I fuck you with your glasses on?"

I don't mean for this year to seem particularly nasty but we did...you know...do it all the time. There wasn't much else to do. We were together all the time, we would talk over dinner, share this alone time together, and then I or Alex (usually Alex) would hit a point in the evening where we might as well just get on with it. Besides, this instant was pretty important. You know, with the thunderstorms. And my glasses. Alex really likes that part.

*

Alex and I went to an antique store in Dobbs Ferry because Fennel, who had been vacationing in Mykonos for the last month, needed me to pick up a statuaries from this rare antiques store. We decided to make a day trip out of it. Not there was much to do in Dobbs Ferry.

We shared headphones on the way up. Our moods were transactional through the iPod. Alex had this habit of scrolling his finger back and forth on the dial. It would make this scrolling noise, but I kind of liked that noise so I never stopped him. 

We walked the town's aqueduct for a bit. It had felt like the city was on fire but just a little north felt cooler. Maybe it was the fresh rain with that dewy smell. Alex's jeans ended up getting grass stains on the butt of them because he sat down in the wet field.

At lunch, we shared a stack of pancakes and Alex let me eat all the bacon. "I can't remember the last time I had a proper breakfast," I said as I chewed into the syrup-soaked fried batter.

Alex chuckled. "It's noon. I think it's more like lunch."

"Shush," I forced him out. I looked around and observed the tiny diner we were in. It's exactly what you'd imagine for a small town with men having coffee at the counter and mother and child having lunch. "I like it here."

Alex nodded with a smile. "You like a small town."

I shook my head. "Just for a bit. Not forever."

*

At the start of August, Matt visited us for a week. He slept on the couch and ate all our food but we all had a great time. Not since Barnsley had just the three of us hung out, especially for an extended period of time. Matt and I—just the two of us—hadn't hung out in close to eight years. Not that we ever were best of friends but it's weird how he had adapted more into Alex's friend than my friend. Nonetheless, he still felt like a brother to me. Or maybe brother-in-law.

Alex went out to the store one evening, leaving just Matt and I and whatever movie we were semi-watching. Matt sat up from his slumped back state, placing his beer on the coffee table. "I'm gonna have a smoke. You gonna join me?"

I giggled. "Oh, Matt, you know just the way to my heart."

We travelled up to the apartment building's rooftop. It was sparse besides a picnic table and a grill. The Fourth of July party had been held up there. Alex and I went for the free food but had to endure several Revolutionary War jokes. Matt sat on one side of the table and I sat on the other, an ashtray between us.

"I can't remember the last time we smoked together," I commented.

Matt lit his up before handing me the lighter. "At least not cigarettes," he laughed. "It's funny. This is all we used to do."

"Used to? Speak for yourself." I knew Matt didn't smoke that much anymore. Not like Alex and I who upheld equality with one another on who was going to get lung cancer first. We smoked enough to decide we'd both probably get it under the same time. Depressing romanticism.

"It's weird to think of a time before you and Alex got together," he said, flicking the ash.

I fanned the smoke away from my eyes. "Yeah. It's hard for me to imagine."

"And you guys are good and all that?" His tone was traced with suspicion or maybe I was just misplacing it there.

"Yeah." He nodded but stayed silent and I grew worried that I was being left out on something but I didn't want to touch it. "And you? Are you good?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I'm good, Jane."

I joined him in laughter. "Good."

The roof door opened and Alex walked through. "Thought you two ran off."

"We kind of did. We made it as far as the roof," I told him as he walked over to us.

He sat next to Alex and grabbed a cigarette from himself. "Am I joining one of those fabled smokes?" He asked.

"What?" Matt questioned.

I explained, "When we were younger, and used to sit out on the kerb with one another. I call them Fireside Chats like FDR."

Matt laughed. "I was drunk for most of those. Memory is a little fuzzy."

"You're not alone in that." I stubbed at the cigarette and rested my head on my palm. "I don't want to drink tonight though."

Matt raised his eyebrows. "Pregnant?"

"Shut up." I rolled my eyes and wondered if Alex had told Matt about the scare back in winter. "I have work tomorrow."

"Oh," Matt uttered, "little Janie's all professional now."

Alex nodded. "Yeah. What losers the rest of us are."

"Yeah. If Jane of all people can settle down—"

I interjected, ready to fight, "I was not that horrible." Alex and Matt only met me with a stare causing another eye roll from me. "I'm going to bed."

Alex and Matt stayed put and I assumed they were going to have one of their own Fireside Chats. "We'll try and be quiet," Alex told me before I pecked his lips.

I walked over and placed a kiss on Matt's cheek. He slapped his hand over the cheek, wiping it down. "Ew. You slobber like my mum."

"God. What a baby you are." With that, I went downstairs. I'm not sure what time they went to bed but when I left for work the next morning, they were both dead asleep. Not even the sound of me dropping my coffee arose them.

*

Alex was writing something. I woke up and the red light of the clock blared out, the time reading 4:34 AM. I rubbed my eye, scrubbing the dream out of me. His pen moved across the page and he was propped up against the headboard with his notebook tilted under the soft light coming from his small bedside lamp. 

He felt my movement and turned to me as I flipped onto my side to look up at him, his eyebrows knitted. "Did I wake you?"

I shook my head against the pillow. "I don't think so. Why are you still up?" I held the tip of his elbow to keep in touch with him.

"Woke up about an hour ago. Couldn't fall back to sleep." He was scratching his pen up and down across his page, just making lines. 

I flipped onto my back, roughing my hands through my hair. "Probably because it's so fucking hot in here." Our landlord had turned the AC off a week ago when it seemed like it was finally getting cold until the temperatures started shooting back up this week. "I might take a shower. I feel so sweaty." I sat up, throwing my legs off the bed. 

I could hear the smirk in his voice. A light chuckle as he said, "Let me know if you do."

My phone rang. "I bet it's Stacey," I told Alex. "She still doesn't understand the whole timezone thing."

"She's 18 and she still doesn't know about timezones?" Alex questioned.

I sighed as I tied my hair up. "Let me rephrase. She doesn't care about the whole timezone thing."

"Ah," Alex said as I picked up the phone.

I moved into the bathroom, preparing to start the shower as I talked to Stacey. I sat in the bathroom, on the toilet seat, for about 10 minutes before I moved back into the bedroom. "Shower time?" He asked him with a grin that could kill.

"No." I shook my head walking back over to my side of the bed. I threw my phone down on the bed and picked at my fingernails. "My dad had a heart attack."

I could hear Alex closing his notebook but didn't look up. I wasn't sure how to deliver news and make eye contact at the same time. "Is he okay? Are you okay?" He crawled across the bed and stood up beside me.

I dropped my hands and moved past him going to our dresser. "Yeah. No. He's fine for a guy who just had a heart attack. I mean, he'll live and all that." I hadn't realized that I started pacing back and forth across our bedroom. I would stop at our dresser but then I would keep moving.

"Good. Now. Jane. Sit," Alex instructed me.

I listened. He was my guide. I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to figure out what I was doing. "I should go back home."

"Okay. I'll look for flights." He moved for my laptop, sat in my backpack on the floor. 

I stayed on the bed. "Should you?"

He looked up at me. I was looking at his eyes but I didn't even realize what was going on. I hadn't processed anything. I was busy facing the fact my parents could in fact die and that I also was not immortal. Alex wasn't sure what to do or what I wanted him to do. "Do you want me not to go?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure if I should go."

Alex moved toward me on his knees. He stopped in front of me and leaned over my knees. "I think you should. At least for Stacey."

"Right." I’m not sure if I went for Stacey. She would have Greg and Harper, even my mother, for comfort. I’m not sure if I felt an obligation to go too. It seemed cruel not to show up after a medical emergency but since the move to America, I hadn’t seen them other than during Christmas. They had never visited me. They rarely called me. It made me think that if I didn’t show up they wouldn’t be that shocked. But I knew I wasn’t held to the same standard as them and having a heart attack is much more serious than anything I had going on.

We got into a taxi at some point but I think I was still trying to figure out if I was still in a dream or if we were in fact going to JFK Airport. Alex must have packed the suitcase because I don’t remember doing anything. I became a functioning human being around when we sat at our gate for about 15 minutes. The flight wasn't boarding for another hour. Alex had gotten me a coffee and a glazed donut for Dunkin' Donuts. He got a Boston Kreme and coffee for himself.

He sat with his hand on my knee as I scarfed down my donut as a form of something to do. I wiped my fingers on the napkin and leaned back in my chair with the warm coffee in my hand. "I broke my wrist when I was 10," I told Alex. I could tell he wasn't expecting me to speak. "I sat waiting for my mum to pick me up for over an hour. They finally decided to call my dad and he showed up in 15 minutes. Five minutes less than his drive from work to my school."

"I honestly wasn't expecting the story to go that way," Alex confessed. There’s a million untold stories from my childhood that Alex had never heard. They were tricky for me to go about.

I breathed a laugh, relieving the tension from both of us. "Neither was I. It was right after Tommy and I guess a broken wrist was one step away from being dead." Alex squeezed my thigh and I thought about Tommy. I hadn't thought about him in a while.

We sat together for a moment before Alex bit into his Boston Kreme. The cream smeared over his nose. I laughed, which pleased him even if I was mocking him. “It’s all over your face. You look like you can’t properly feed yourself.”

We boarded the flight and arrived in London a little after 6 PM. I fell asleep after take-off and didn't wake up until the jolt from landing. Alex stayed awake the whole time.

We took the train out to Bath and Greg would pick us up at the train station. Halfway through the train ride, I said to Alex, "Thanks."

He pushed my hair back and stroked my cheek. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I've never been to Bath."

I laughed into the palm of his hand. "I'm glad this is working out for someone."

Visiting hours had ended about an hour before we arrived. The family report was that he was fine and Greg drove Alex and me back to the family home. We had dinner together where we mainly talked about my father. Alex and I went to bed after in a stripped-down guest room.

*

We had been in Bath for two days when Alex finally asked the question what I knew he had been thinking since we arrived. "Can we go on a drive?" My car had sat in my parents' garage since I drove it down when they moved. I'm sure they hated it being stuffed in their driveway but Alex was insistent on keeping it so I insisted to my parents to not get rid of it. For some reason, they didn't.

I didn't know much of Bath. Stacey told me she sometimes went to Henrietta Park with her friends so I decided we would drive there. Alex fiddled with things. The radio, the window, the glove compartment. He was trying to check if everything still worked. He missed this car more than I did. I rarely thought about it other than the remarks my mother would make over the rare phone calls that it was still sitting in the garage. 

Alex sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat. "I love you."

I chuckled at the affection but replied, "Love you too."

He looked over at me. I could feel the stare but my eyes remained on the road. "Just getting to do this with you. I love it. I love that we've been in each other's lives for so long."

"Me too."

"We've been together long enough that when I sit here now I'm reminded of how much I loved you then. And, you know, how much I still love you now. More now."

My eyes hurt. I don't think I had cried since we'd been there. I felt overwhelmed by it all. But always him. I couldn't look at him for safety and emotional purposes. I loved him for being there and for being there for such a long time. He had always been my best friend. Even when I had just met him. Like fate. Soulmates or something. "Alex. I have to drive."

He chuckled. "Don't wreck the car now." He kissed my cheek.

*

a/n: well, there we go. i'm very into writing this right now so hopefully have another part soon. i'll probably do a one-off piece before. we shall see...

[digitaldiarystuff]

Latin Grammys

note: ok so before we start since you don’t give me ideas 🥺 i’ll ask myself who would you want me to write for ferran, fermin, ruben or mason or do you just prefer the same players i write for

————

summary: you were in a sweet relationship with Joao for almost a year but given you’re a popular singer and he’s a world famous footballer you decided to keep it a secret. You were nominated for an award and wanted nothing more than taking your boyfriend with you

pairing: - Y/N

genre: angst/ fluff

————

“You won’t believe it!” you exclaimed as you entered your boyfriend Joao’s house jumping up and down.

He was laid down on the couch scrolling on tiktok as soon as he saw you his face lit up.

“I got a nomination” you ran to hip and Joao picked you up spinning you around.

“I knew you’d be.” he kissed you sweetly and you giggled together. You were nominated for Best New Artis award and couldn’t be happier. Since last year your time and mind was all on your music, you poured your heart and soul into every single line and it was finally paying off.

“I think this calls for a celebration.” Joao sweetly said as he went into kitchen to grab an expensive bottle of wine and 2 glasses. You nervously waited for him as he was telling how proud he was.

“Actually, I was hoping for a celebration on the day of the award show.” you said fidgeting with your fingers. You had been pretty private about your relationship so far, Joao had some bad experience with his past relationship and you were afraid of the backlash but even it means you’ll get hate for it you wanted him next to you as you found out if you’ve won or not.

“After the ceremony? I like where your head’s at.” he smirked clearly thinking about a more sexual celebration.

“No no, I mean I was kind of hoping maybe you wanted to go with me. Be my plus one you know for the night.”

You noticed his smile falter which made yours to disappear. You knew he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea but figured he’d want to support you that night because it was the biggest night of your career. You always went to his games, with glasses and caps not to be recognized sure but you did your best to support him.

“I… I don’t know I mean it’s like launching our relationship to everyone.”

Your heart broke more after his every word, after 10 months you hoped he was ready to show you off but it felt like he wasn’t comfortable enough in your relationship.

“Don’t worry it’s alright. It was a stupid idea anyway” you said and tried to put on a smile.

He was too distraught to even notice how fake your smile was.

After a glass of wine you made up an excuse to get out of his house, normally you’d stay over no doubt but tonight you wanted to be alone. Was he ashamed of you or was it because his past relationship affected his life so much you didn’t know. All you knew was your boyfriend not wanting to be by your side for your big night.

It was three weeks after your initial conversation about the event and Joao didn’t even say a word about it. You obviously didn’t, either. It seemed like you let it go but in the back of your mind, intrusive thoughts were eating you alive. Also, you really needed someone to be by your side that night and that’s when your agent suggested your producer, Alex. Your agent knew about your relationship and asked one day if you were bringing Joao, you shook your head not wanting to get into it so she took it upon herself to find you a date for it. Alex was her best suggestion since you were already friends and he helped you get on the right track since the beginning. You unwillingly accepted but didn’t say a word to Joao. You figured he wouldn’t care, boy were you wrong.

Joao went into your apartment the day before the event, hoping to have a talk and make sure you understood him but as he walked in with his spare key, he found the invitations sitting on the console at the entrance. He smiled to himself as the proud boyfriend that he is until he read the names under it. He could’ve had a heart attack then and there, he’ve met Alex but was only a handful of times and he always seemed too touchy with you but Joao tried his best not to come across possessive. He always noticed when Alex spoke so highly of you, how his eyes wandered around your cleavage and his hand placed on the small of your back.

When you walked in you noticed Joao’s shoes and realized he must be in the living area just passing time but actually he was pacing back and forth around the room nonstop. When you laid eyes on his distressed figure you were shocked.

“Joao, what’s wrong?” you asked fully expecting his answer to be training related.

“What’s going on is that my girlfriend has a date with his producer tomorrow night.” he said finally stopping. He didn’t mean to be so sassy but his insecurities got the best of him, you knew he had some trust issues but you both agreed to talk it out before spiraling.

“What are you talking about?” you asked but then he waved the invitation in his hands and you realized you still haven’t told him about taking Alex.

“Yes, that’s what happens when your boyfriend doesn’t want to support you.” you clapped back. You normally wouldn’t be this short with him in this state but he was being unreasonable.

“So what, you decide to take the person who’s been trying so hard to get into your pants instead of?”

“Joao you know Alex’s a friend.”

“Yes, a friend who’s secretly hoping to fuck you!” he yelled and you decided he was not even worth your explanation right now. You told him how you didn’t feel his trust and support while he went on about this detail he was fixating on.

“You know what, I think we should just take a moment to think. I have a long day ahead of me and would prefer to have a good night’s sleep.” you said and went in your room slamming the door.

You tried to understand him, you really did but it all came down to one thing: he didn’t see this relationship going forward. He didn’t want to be seen with you, he thought you’d fuck someone else if you ever hang out with them and this couldn’t be more far away from the truth. You took this relationship seriously from the jump, you loved Joao and would never glance at someone else but if he doesn’t want to believe it, there’s nothing you could do.

You fell asleep soon after, all the exhaustion and stress weighing you down. When you woke up the next morning, you heard some noises coming from the kitchen which at first freaked you out but then you thought maybe Joao spent the night. This made you even angrier because he couldn’t expect to argue with you today, he has to understand this event means so much for you.

You went in the en-suite to freshen up and opened your door storming into the kitchen fully expecting to see a distressed Joao making coffee but he’s actually in there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers putting them in a vase he found at your cabinet. He was wearing different clothes and seemed better than yesterday so you figured he came in early in the morning.

“Good morning.” he shyly smiled showing you the flowers “I got these for you.”

“They’re lovely, thank you.” you answered and he could sense the tension in your tone. As you went to sit on the bar stool next to your table you noticed a clothing bag with a suit inside sitting on it.

“What’s this?”

“Oh they’re all my best suits. I realized I didn’t even know what you’re wearing so I brought them all hoping we could decide together.”

“What?” you asked confused.

“I would like to be your plus one tonight, if you still want me.” he said and averted his gaze afraid you’ll say no. You looked up at him.

“Is this just because you’re jealous?” you asked

“It did play a factor for the decision yes, but the main reason is that I’m a selfish prick who doesn’t even show his love nearly enough to his best new artist girlfriend.” he said while scratching his neck looking down.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you, I’m sorry for not showing you how much I appreciate you and hundred percent support you. I love you so much and I’m sorry I let my insecurities get in the way of that. So about the invitation, is it still standing or should I just wallow in my misery all night?”

“Joao Felix, there will never be a time I wouldn’t choose you. You’re stuck with me forever.” you smiled wrapping your arms around his torso and he let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding hugging you back.

[stupidlittlespirit]

Can you give me more examples of Alex disliking Ford? I’ve always kinda felt it, but I never really had much of a real grasp on it.

Okay so this is the part where I look crazy because I can't give you specific examples LMAO but I'll try to explain what I mean. It's more in what he doesn't say than what he does.

Alex doesn't ever come right out and state 'I hate Ford', but he implies his distaste for him through his treatment of him. The way he hasn't gone harder/more explicit on drawing lines about Ford's abuse, or talking about how Ford suffered terribly during the time he was alone, for example. The way he blames Ford inherently for a lot of stuff that Ford, while not blameless, isn't fully at fault for. It's little things, and I'll detail them below.

TW below: Abuse, discussions of victimhood and irl consequences.

He extends more sympathy to other characters whereas Ford is sort of an afterthought. I don't actually think Alex has fleshed Ford out very well in his own head. Remember when he said that he didn't even know that Bill was going to be the main villain? They were flying by the seat of their pants for a lot of the series and it's quite clear in some elements. Obviously, the series is wonderful, I love it, it's one of my favourite shows of all time and Alex is a true talent, but it's obvious which characters are more important to him. He favours Bill a lot, too, so when his disliking of Ford/being ambivalent about him meets his enjoyment of Bill, only one of those dogs is coming out of the fight alive and it ain't Ford.

I think Alex is a genuine talent, I admire his work and his writing. He seems lovely. But I do also think he lacks in skill when it comes to complex abuse depictions.

I see a running theme that he isn't very good at portraying it specifically via 'unlikeable' characters. I mentioned on a previous post that he did this with Pacifica until people expressed empathy with her, and then he decided to round her out. He stated that himself during an old interview; I can't source it but I remember it vividly because it flagged red in my head that he couldn't see she was just a product of her environment. She's a twelve year old girl, for god's sake, she isn't 'just a horrible person', it makes a person sound like Bill when they beef with kids like that lol.

Another thing is in TBoB, there's a really horrendous page where Ford is tortured. It is visceral and awful, and tbh I wish I'd have been able to ask Alex what his top 5 horror movies were when I saw his talk because the scene is very reminiscent of a lot of my fav horrors.

But anyway, it is literal torture and it is also communicating about how helpless Ford is. He's a victim and a 'weak one' at that. Nothing he can do will stop Bill's abuse, he's stupid for trying, he's pathetic, he deserves it.

Now, that is a take I see with Ford a lot. He deserves it. He's asking for it. And it's a really upsetting one. It's also a common narrative told by people who blame victims for the abuse they suffered.

Not once have I ever seen Alex defend Ford. Not once have I ever heard him say 'Ford didn't deserve this', 'Ford suffered as much as Stan'. Not once.

Considering that he said he took 'inspiration' from his friend's 'toxic' relationships (I also think this is a strange and slightly perverse thing to do btw), I would have thought he might feel more strongly about pushing away this narrative about victims deserving their treatment.

I, obviously, also don't know for sure that he did take inspo from friends; he could well be describing his own experiences and just not feel comfortable saying so because men do suffer a different kind of stigma around being abused. That's fine, he doesn't have to out himself or anything, that would be horrible. But it's just the way he reacts to fans and speaks about the victim (Ford) that makes me think he's a bit more removed from this specific experience than it being personal.

There are many types of abuse. Ford's experience is familial, relationship-wise (platonic, because nothing about his relationship with Bill is romantic in the most basic sense of the term, if anything you can liken that side of things to sexual abuse) and personal. Ford then abuses himself as a reaction to outside abuse. Not his fault, again, but it does happen and it's a common thing for victims to do. I did.

Ford does nothing but suffer.

I truly don't believe that if you loved and cared for your character, you would be willing to watch your audience tear them apart like that after they had already been through so much and were not actually a villain themselves.

Especially if you had, or knew other people who had, experience with that kind of abuse. He doesn't let it happen to Stan, he came down hard on people when they did it to Dipper, and to Mabel, too.

It would kill me to let my OCs be bastardised like that by an audience and I'd be damned if I did a disservice to victims everywhere over something like this.

I think his lack of care is displayed in his treatment of Ford, as opposed to him outright saying he doesn't like him.

I also understand that this analysis also comes from a deeply personal point of view and my own experience with this topic, too.

This is a TV show, it isn't real and I don't need to take it so seriously, but what I do take seriously is seeing the real world reactions of other people. That does hurt. It hurts to see someone who is (very inelegantly and heavy-handedly, btw) depicted as a victim of abuse be laughed at and made into a joke, or flipped on their head and made to be romanticised with their abuser just to make a ship happen.

Fiction doesn't need to be taken seriously except when the lines begin to blur over into real life. We know people are cruel to irl victims and we can see where these lines blur quite obviously.

I think abuse and uncomfortable topics should be depicted, but I also think that as a creator, if you use them, you have a HUGE responsibility to teach and guide your audience into understanding why these things are bad/what makes them so. You shouldn't make jokes about the topic or encourage other people to go off the rails with it.

You can't control people, of course you can't, but you can hold their hand a bit and show them towards the light. If they choose not to follow it then they're probably not bright enough to pick up what you're putting down and that's on them, but you have to try.

Maybe if I hadn't (and my friends and other victims hadn't) been subjected to exactly the same reaction, we wouldn't feel so strongly about this, but it really does feel like a kick in the teeth to see a large number of people behave so grotesquely about abuse.

And just as an aside: I am a victim, I have been/am an unlikeable one, but it does not mean that I deserved what I got and that goes the same for every other 'unlikeable' victim out there.

*deep breath* but other than that I'm totally normal about Ford and not at all mentally ill :)

[beabnormal24]

I just saw that you’re writing Carcar fic, a snippet pls 🙏

I love your stories so much so I’m really excited ❤️

This is the first thing that I read when I wake up, thank you so much anon because this means a lot to me, so I'll do it.

(I edited this post, 'cause I had a bit of trouble publishing it)

Soo, a not-so-little snippet for you!

“Mate, I honestly think you’re just exaggerating. It doesn’t sound like that big of a deal to me, really.” Logan stretches his legs out, knocking his feet right against Oscar’s knee. 

Oscar grumbles in lieu of an answer, lowering his head until he can hide his gaze in the bottom of his pint. 

“Don’t know why you hate the guy so much; he seems alright to me.” 

The thing is, Oscar Piastri does not hate Carlos Sainz.

Hate is too strong of a word for an individual with whom Oscar tends to have zero to no interaction whatsoever, except for forced polite greetings in the elevator and those rare times when Carlos decides that going out with Lando is worth his time. 

Oscar sincerely thinks that only pretentious people claim to be as busy as Carlos does, so much so that he never seems able to find an evening to spend an ounce of time with his best friend. 

So, no, Oscar does not hate him. He just can’t stand him, which is a big difference and Logan should note that. 

Is the prospect of working alongside him on his most important project of his entire career going to deepen that grudge? Probably, surely. 

But Oscar is, in fact, a professional, no matter what Carlos thinks of him, and he knows how to work with people he would rather keep a safe distance from. Nail guy and Germophobic guy should be more than enough proof. 

“You don’t know him.” Oscar protests, sighing in frustration. Lando raises an unimpressed eyebrow next to him, tapping his chin. “Alright, sorry Lando. You do not know him in a working context.” 

“I mean, how different can that be?” Logan says doubtfully. “Lando said you don’t even work in the same department.” 

“Lando is just biased because Carlos got to him before us.” 

Lando snorts, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Wow, thanks Oscar, you make it sound like I can make my own decisions.” 

Oscar shrugs. “You’re welcome.” 

“Has he started complaining about being paired up with Carlos, yet?” Yuki asks just as he settles down two other pints on their booth’s table. 

Alex trails behind him, carefully balancing two portions of fries on each arm before sliding in the empty seat next to Logan. 

“Mate, you have no idea.” Logan groans, placing a sloppy kiss on Alex’s cheek as he steals a fry from his portion. 

Alex rolls his eyes, but still lets him with a fond smile. Oscar sincerely thinks he could puke. 

“I really don’t understand why you despise him so much. He seems alright to me.” Alex says, failing at hiding the curiosity behind his voice. 

“Babe! I said the same exact thing!” 

“And he’s a great golf player, honestly.” 

Oscar sighs, knowing that he’s left with his shoulders against the wall. 

It’s not like his friends would understand, anyway, since they do not have to walk in his shoes. 

Logan and Alex do not count, because they like everyone, and Yuki is one of the most unfazed people Oscar has ever met, Lando is just obsessed with Carlos for reasons Oscar will probably never fully comprehend. 

He’s left alone, on this matter, even when they all go out together and Charles and Carlos tag along, Carlos is the only one who seems to not have any joke or a single word to address to Oscar. 

Lando says that he’s probably the one actually ignoring him. Oscar thinks that Carlos is just plain out rude to him, and only him. 

But that’s a bit childish, so he’ll keep that thought to himself. 

Everyone starts focusing on their own food, and Oscar stupidly hopes that the topic must’ve finally been brought out of his last Saturday night as a free man before three months of utter nightmare. 

And then Yuki quips in and reduces his hopes to shreds. “On his first day, Carlos told Andrea that he thought Oscar was too young for that position, and that he would be inexperienced. Oscar heard him, and he’s totally convinced that Carlos knows that he heard him but he still never apologised and Oscar took that personally because he’s peevish.” 

“I am not peevish!” Oscar groans bumping his forehead against the table. 

“Yeah, Oscar, you are a bit peevish. Just a tiny bit, though.” He feels Lando’s hand coming up to pat him on the back, sympathetic. “Come on mate, I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Yeah, I mean, we say similar stuff about each other all the time at my workplace.” Alex offers, in an awful attempt at cheering him up. 

It doesn’t do any magic at all, because Alex works as a teacher and Oscar has gone to school for enough years to know that teachers are only capable of hating each other for stretching out their hours longer than they should and preferring different students. 

Well, unless they’re shagging like Alex and Logan, but they work in two different schools so that should not apply. 

“It’s not just that.” Oscar tries to defend himself. Because holding a grudge for something that happened three years ago does sound a bit childish, and he’s not. 

The rest of the table looks at him inquisitively, impatiently waiting for an answer, just the sound of the background music filling the silence that Oscar would so much prefer over having to talk about Carlos, of all people. 

The worst topic they could choose for a Saturday night out at the pub, really. 

“He’s just-“ he makes a vague gesture, hoping that they might understand it easily. Of course, everyone just blinks at him. “I mean, who goes around with only shirts that have his initials stitched on it? Who goes around acting like they know everything and they’re the best at it? And he says that Lando is his best mate, but I don’t see him hanging out with him that often, no? That’s just top dickhead behaviour, if you ask me.” 

“Aw, Osc!” Lando exclaims, and in a matter of second, Oscar finds himself with his head caged under Lando’s elbow, the Brit’s hand mussing his hair. “You’re so cute, defending my honour.” 

“You never did that for me.” Logan protests, and then more quietly to Alex. “Babe, he never did that for me.” 

Alex smiles, patting his back lightly. “Do not worry, Lo, I’ll do it for you.” 

“I’m not defending anybody’s honour.” Oscar splutters out, his cheeks growing hot, heart thumping in his chest, wild – a dangerous zone. He slaps Lando’s hands away from his hair, trying to ruffle them to some kind of order, but it’s no use, they’ll never make sense. 

Carlos’ hair is always perfectly styled and composed. What a dickhead, indeed. 

“I’m just stating the obvious.” 

“Still, I can guarantee you that you do not need to worry about that.” Lando assures him, trying to reach back for his head, but Oscar is quicker this time, leaving him to poke Yuki’s cheek with a finger, instead. “He’s got other things to do on Saturday, usually.” 

Oscar takes a sip of his beer to cover his snort. 

He doesn’t trust Lando’s words, he’s probably just too biased by having been Carlos’ friend for such a long time. 

Someone who’s not even married and who earns as much as Carlos does surely should not have that many things to do instead of hanging out with his friends. 

But anyway, it’s none of his business. Rather, he should be glad he can at least escape him on Saturday. 

“Sure.” 

— 

On Monday morning, Oscar clocks into work on time, his jacket is completely dry, his hair kind of makes sense and there’s a spring in his step, and he just feels good overall. 

He has spent most of his Sunday sitting on the couch binge watching the entire final season of Brooklyn 99 and he’s convinced himself that whatever mind games Carlos might want to play with him, Oscar is stronger and smarter, and he won’t let himself get squashed. 

Logan kind of fuelled his confidence, as well, with his usual monologues about the importance of believing in himself and remembering all the sweat and tears he put in to reach the place he’s in now, though Oscar is pretty sure he only comes up with them to exercise for his drama kids. 

But the point is that he knows that it’s his job, that it’s his career, and even if he would probably get the promotion either way, he still wants to earn it. If not for Andrea, then for himself. 

The fact that it’s his biggest project ever, just motivates him more. 

He plops down on his office chair with a smile that must be breaking his face if the way Yuki glances at him curiously from the other side is anything to go by. But he just shrugs it off, playing dumb. 

He’s just in a good mood, is that illegal? 

“It is if you’re called Oscar Piastri.” Yuki tells him, no hair on his tongue. “You always look like-“ he makes a serious face, his lips closed into straight line, one eyebrow raised, sceptical. Oscar does not look like that, he thinks (he hopes). “Like those statues from Christmas Island.” 

“I do not look like that at all.” Oscar glares at him, turning his computer on. “And it’s Easter Island.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

He spends the morning going through Andrea’s instructions over and over again until he can exactly tell the position of every single letter, and then he spends the rest of it making a first draft for a spreadsheet with all the products they will probably need to change a million times. 

Carlos does not write him, nor does he come around to ask for him, either, but Oscar doesn’t question it that much. God knows he has his own side-projects, although minor, to care about but he guesses that spending some time to start brainstorming over this new one it’s not entirely a bad idea. 

He’ll just email the file Excel to Carlos once it’s done, and then maybe they’ll shortly discuss about it, Oscar will even accept some suggestions because, against all odds, he is ready to work as a team. Besides, his creativity is pretty close to a zero percentage, but he has heard that Carlos knows how to do a mean presentation, and that’s how teams work, right? 

Combine your best skills and all that stuff about sharing each other’s strengths. Oscar wouldn’t know about that, really, since he’s always preferred the solitary work, but he doesn’t have that much of a choice right now. 

Yuki asks for poke at lunch, and Oscar is a man of his word, so as soon as the clock strikes half past twelve, they’re already out the door chattering about the latest apex legends’ update. 

The guy behind the cash register smiles at him sweetly when he pays, and Oscar swears he winks at him as he slides the receipt over the counter, and sure enough when he looks at it there is a phone number scribbled on the paper. 

Oscar isn’t exactly interested in dating as of now, but the guy was cute, and it did boost his ego a bit, and it might not be a bad idea to go out with someone that is not his roommate, his roommate’s boyfriend, his coworker and a weird friend from university. Maybe he could even get laid, which doesn’t seem like a bad prospect at all. 

It’s just the combination of all these tiny little things that makes him feel better, more confident, almost ready to let himself believe that he could change his mind about Carlos, like Lando has been trying to make him for years, now. 

Maybe he could actually reconsider him, even if just by stopping viewing him as a pretentious dickhead. 

But Carlos just makes it incredibly difficult, it seems. 

Oscar has just started settling back behind his desk when his attention gets caught by the new email in his inbox, that definitely was not there before. 

To: oscar.piastri@g...  From: carlos.sainz.vasq...  Sub: team project 

Hi Piastri,  attached you will find your part of the project.  Please, do not contact me on my lunch breaks, Friday nights and weekends. I will not respond.  I sincerely hope you do not need any clarification, but if you do, you can write to the email above.  Good work. 

[See more] 

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He almost slams his laptop shut, feeling the rage bubbling up inside of him. Logan likes to say that he’s an emotionless human being, Yuki just compared him to a freaking statue, and yet Carlos Sainz is enough to make him doubt himself and his capability to have a decent control of his own emotions. 

He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring as he tries to calm himself down. Breath in, and breath out, it’s just the first day of three months. 

Which means that it can go even worse, fuck. 

“What is it?” Yuki asks, curiously peering over his screen to take a glance. 

Oscar had almost completely forgotten about his presence, and he just groans and turns the laptop around, not finding it in himself to explain without cursing one Spanish lineage or two. 

“Mh, okay, yes.” Yuki mumbles, nodding understandingly with his chin propped up on his palm. 

Oscar can see his eyes moving from one side to the other of the list, a list, of things that Oscar should do, that Carlos decided Oscar should do, just to prove himself once more as the biggest prick Oscar might’ve ever met in his life. 

“Well, I don’t see the problem here.” 

“You don’t- what?” Oscar splutters out, blinking once, twice. Yuki’s expression doesn’t change, it stays confused, amused even. “Isn’t it obvious? He gave me a list, Yuki, a list.” 

“Yes and?” Yuki asks, unsure. “I mean, I would kill to have a teammate who tells me what I have to do. Splitting parts is the worst step for a team project, in my opinion. You should be glad.” 

“I should be glad?” Oscar says, he almost feels crazy about it. “Yuki, can’t you see it? He’s doing it in purpose! He probably just decided what parts he didn’t want and gave them to me so I can, like, do his dirty laundry. I am almost 100% sure he’s going to take all the credit after and he just- ugh!” 

Yuki looks at him, unimpressed, standing in front of Oscar’s desk like he’s seconds away from giving him a slap on his head. When they’re like this and the height difference is completely reversed, Oscar remembers that Yuki can be incredibly frightening, too. 

“Oscar, listen to me.” Yuki says, gentle. Well, not really gentle, because Oscar is pretty sure that Yuki lacks that definition, but something akin to gentleness, surely. “I think you’re a bit stressed out right now, I get it, it’s an important project-“ 

“My most important project.” Oscar interrupts him. He feels compelled to remind that detail, which he doesn’t find small at all. 

It will dictate the rest of his career, his future, his curriculum, his self esteem. He might be exaggerating, but he’s used to take things seriously only when he manages to convince himself that they are, in fact, serious. 

But now that he thinks about it, he may just need a change of perspective:  maybe having to work alongside Carlos is just a challenge for himself, one last obstacle to overtake before he can finally make all his years of studying and working his back off worth it. 

He just needs to impose himself and he needs to show himself and to Carlos that he knows what he’s doing, and that it can easily be a 50/50 kind of work. 

Perfectly balanced, yeah. 

“- and I mean, anyway, if you’re not happy with whatever he decides, you can just go and talk to the guy.” 

“You know what, Yuki?” Oscar says, standing up as he shuts his laptop close, feeling thrilled about the prospect of taking reins between his hands, for once. It must feel amazing, to finally have control over something, and it only makes him want that promotion more. “I think I’m going to give him a little speech about respect.” 

“That’s not what I meant, but you do you.” Yuki shrugs before finally going back to his desk, sitting hunched over his screen and probably causing himself twenty different problems to his back. 

It’s a spur of the moment, Oscar is not used to get them often, he prefers to be more levelheaded, in a way, more rational, logical. 

But Carlos has always managed to get under his skin in a way that he never was able to point out, like he could just crawl inside and gnaw at it and smirk that too full grin of his that some would define as charming, Oscar just finds unappealing. 

If he were to admit it, he would probably find the reasons of their mutual grudge behind deeply buried thoughts that Oscar has long since tried to forget about. 

Like that time he had been scratching his own wrist with his nails, too long, too uneven, waiting for Lando to give him an ounce of his attention, just for Carlos to get it all with a bat of his eyelashes and a show of his straight teeth. 

And Oscar has thought that, well, he did not know how to style his hair and he had always had bunny teeth and he did not post shirtless selfies on his socials, and he did not like to hop from one club to another to spend the time on a Saturday night, so hoping that Lando could turn around and look at him and say ‘Oscar’ all British accented and tongue in the little gap was just- ridiculous. 

Rationally, that should not be considered as Carlos’ fault, but Oscar just knows that he knows. He swears he had seen him, winking at Oscar jokingly before taking Lando away by the hand, tilting his head to the side, curious, wicked, and then acting like Oscar wasn’t there, not even trying go engage him into conversations. 

At work, it’s quieter, at least. 

The only reason why Oscar still hasn’t spilled a hot coffee all over the front of his shirt is because Carlos kind of is his superior, after all, and people would surely almost immediately suspect of him if they were to find a distressed Carlos Sainz in sight. 

But they still work in different sections, and they never have to cross paths unless they happen to be in the same elevator at the same time, or by the same coffee machine at the same time. They never make small talks, sometimes Carlos just glances at him and nods his head and makes a half assed comment about his commitments for the week like he’s someone too important to be around Oscar. 

And Oscar wants to strangle him or scoff at him and give him a piece of his mind, but he does not, because he’s rational and levelheaded. 

On top of that, the inexperienced comment and the lack of apology thereof does still sting, though he’ll never admit it. 

The upper floor is a little bit nicer than the one his and Yuki’s office is, with longer corridors and opaque glass doors and plants that are actually alive. 

Well, he and Yuki had tried to keep one between their desks, but the attempt had failed after they had realised they had forgotten watering it for four weeks straight. But at least they had tried. 

Oscar doesn’t really think about what he’s going to say when he pushes the door open, nor does he when he strides into the office, basically uninvited. 

And then when he finally thinks about it, it’s just to remain utterly speechless at the sight of Charles half slumped down on the little couch in the corner, scrolling away on his phone. 

“Hi Oscar.” Charles says, enthusiastic as all the other times he and Oscar have interacted in the past. Oscar likes him, even though he can’t help but feel slightly intimidated by his attractiveness, but Charles has always been nice to him and when he goes out with them at the pub, he’s always asking Oscar about his day and appearing actually interested about it. 

Which doesn’t explain why he would be friends with such a douchebag like Carlos, but it’s not like it’s any of his business. 

“Hi Charles.” Oscar replies, unsurely taking a step forward. It doesn’t change the aspect of the situation, of course, what is supposed to be Carlos’ office chair is still as empty as the first time he laid eyes on it. “Am I in the wrong place?” 

“Were you looking for Carlos?” Charles asks with a strange lilt to his voice, one that is not just from his accent, Oscar can tell. 

“Uh, yes?” 

“Then yes you are in the right place.” Charles concludes. “But at the wrong time, he’s out for his lunch break.” 

Oscar checks his watch, then he checks it another time just to be sure. “But lunch break ended fift- twenty minutes ago.” 

“Yeah, but he has to do other things, so he asked for a later lunch break.” 

A later lunch break. 

What kind of immense prick asks for a different lunch break than all the other employees? Who does Carlos think he is? 

Oscar sincerely thinks he has never met someone as full of himself as Carlos in his life, not even that one guy at his high school that went around claiming to be able to get every single girl in his bed. 

Which Oscar knew for sure was a big load of bullshit because he had watched Lauren Smith reject him at their final year’s party, and Oscar had given him a drunken blowjob in a bathroom on the same night. 

And still, Carlos managed to top that off. 

“Alright.” Oscar says calmly. “Then I guess I can come back later.” He finishes, already turning around to get out of this office as soon as possible and go back to lament on Yuki. 

But Charles doesn’t seem to be of the same opinion, clearing his throat to get his attention back on him. “Uh, we will be in a meeting later.” He says sheepishly, and then adding, “I’m sorry I didn’t know you needed him so soon.” 

It’s not Charles’ fault that Carlos is a douchebag, really, and Oscar is not that immature to act like one. “Do not worry, I will come back tomorrow, then.” One deep breath, in and out. “Thanks Charles, I’ll see you around.” 

“Bye Oscar!” Charles waves at him, back to his enthusiastic self. 

Oscar can’t share even an ounce of that same giddiness, right now, so he just closes the door behind himself and curses the name tag on it, flipping the golden plate off. 

And then once again before getting inside the elevatore. 

It’s cathartic enough. 

__ 

To: carlos.sainz.vasq...  From: oscar.piastri@g...  Re: team project  Sub: adjustments 

Hi Sainz,  I was not able to find you and I would like to discuss the attachment of your last email.  As it is a team project, I think that we should work, in fact, as team, unless you might’ve missed Andrea’s directives, though I am pretty sure you were sitting next to me. I sincerely hope you do not need any clarification on that.  Good rest of the day. 

To: oscar.piastri@g...  From: carlos.sainz.vasq...  Re: adjustments  Sub: appointment 

Hi Piastri,  I guess I can concede you a talk face to face over the matter. You can meet me in my office tomorrow at half past ten.  Do not be late. 

To: carlos.sainz.vasq...  From: oscar.piastri@g...  Re: appointment 

I won’t. 

__ 

[luvhockey111]

accidentally in love

Based off of Accidentally in love by counting crows!!

warnings: drinking, swearing a little bit

my first piece!!! It’s not that great, just wanted something to put out and was bored this morning so decided to write this. Let me know what you guys think and if you have any requests!

Summary: Luke and y/n have known each other for as long as they can remember. What happens one summer night when y/n finds Luke awfully close to a girl? I mean they are only just friends… right?

Overview of Luke and y/n relationship

Luke and y/n have been friends since they were born; as Ellen and Julie (y/n mom) were roommates in college. By some weird coincidence Jim and Allan (y/n dad) had been childhood best friends. This has caused them to grow up across the street from each other. If you think about it, it’s destiny really. Anyways, Luke and y/n always say they are “platonic soulmates” but who are they trying to fool with the use of the word platonic? It’s definitely not any of their family members so themselves and eachother must be the ones they are trying to convince their feelings are strictly platonic..

It was a perfect boat day, the sun was warm and shining and the water was a perfect mix between cold and warm, but refreshing nonetheless. Y/n was sitting next to Luke with her legs stretched out in his lap, his hands atop them, Quinn driving, with jack, Trevor, cole and Alex fighting over who gets to wakeboard next and who gets aux. Jack happened to win both of those arguments somehow. Jack had been saying he was going to be throwing a little party tonight since it was the first week everyone was officially back at the lake. “Jack your parties always end with something bad happening” Y/n mentioned. Jack shot her a look of disbelief. “Ummm last time I checked nothing bad has ever happened to me at one of them, only the rest of you idiots”. In reality jack was right, at his first party Quinn’s girlfriend broke up with him over text. The next, Trevor broke the glass sliding door. The one last summer, the cops showed up and kicked everyone out because it was too loud but jack wasn’t around at that moment so Luke said he was in charge and ended up getting a fine. “I’m gonna bring the boat back we should start getting stuff for tonight and getting ready” Quinn told the group. A string of okays came from everyone. Y/n pov:

Right when the boat docks everyone runs off to go get ready for tonight. Luke and I go to our room- yup we share a room but I mean all best friends do… right? Our room has two full size beds but last summer we pushed them together to make a mega bed. Now it’s really no secret that I’ve been hopelessly in love with Luke for as long as I can remember. Everyone knows it. Sometimes if Luke talks about another girl or if he is talking to one and myself or anyone sees it they shoot me a look of pity. I mean it’s pathetic really, being in love with your best friend since you were legit born and not even being able to tell him. I mean we’ve done everything together our whole lives, I even went to umich for him. There’s times that I think that maybe just maybe we could be something more but every time, wannabe frat boy Luke screws it up and flirts with a girl in front of me or talks about a girl in front of me. I mean it’s not his fault- he has no idea. I was listening to some music before the door swung open and in came Luke “kit, you wanna take a shower first or should I? Or we could save water and shower together” Luke shot me a wink while wiggling his eyebrows. Kit is a nickname the three boys gave me when we were 5 because I loved cats and anytime I saw one whether it be a picture or in person I would shout kit as loud as I could. I may act like I hate it but I love it, I think of it as some form of love. “shut up Luke, you shower first get away from me.” I say while giggling and hoping my face doesn’t betray my words by getting red and hot from the blush I so desperately am trying to hide. “Whatever you say kit” he says as he comes closer to me to give me a hug. The second we hug our song starts to play. So she said, "What's the problem, baby?" What's the problem? I don't know Well, maybe I'm in love (love) Think about it every time I think about it Can't stop thinking 'bout it

The second the song starts to play Luke starts twirling me around, spinning me in his arms. Little does he know this song is literally describing my life. Ugh how I hate Luke hughes for making me feel this way. ~time skip to later that night when jacks party is in full swing~

so far jack has made me take 3 shots of some nasty tequila he’s only drinking to look cool in front of girls and other guys. I’ve had 2 seltzer’s also so far so I’m starting to feel tipsy, keep in mind I’m not much of a drinker I prefer to smoke if I’m being honest. I haven’t seen much of Luke for the past hour, which if I wasn’t tipsy I would probably be freaking out but right now I’m having a good time. Until I look over to the backyard and see some girl with her chest pressed against Luke and his arm around luke… my Luke. I could A.) go outside and cause a scene or B.) just go find some guy to flirt with. Both options aren’t great because the first one I would definitely embarrass myself and have Luke be mad at me and the second, well I’m not the best at talking to guys. Now I’m no Virgin Mary but definitely not experienced enough to be confident in talking to or hooking up with a guy. Except for one guy, Trevor. Trevor has flirted with me since the day I met him. I always flirted back to the best of my ability but in reality he knows how I feel about Luke and I know that he will never compare to Luke, but what’s the harm in trying to make Luke jealous? “heyy trev” I say while going into his side forcing his arm to go around me. “What’s up kit? You having fun? Sure sounds like it” he says with a low laugh. “I am but I need your help with something” “Anything for you kit” as those words leave his lips I feel heat rush to my face. Must be the alcohol. “Can you help me try and make Luke jealous, he’s talking to a girl outside right now and I can’t stand to watch it” I say as I can feel tears brimming my eyes. “Of course I can, you know I love to get on all of the hughes’ nerves.” He definitely has a point there. Trevor and I take two more shots for “good luck” as we go outside. I see the girl talking to Luke and she’s beautiful, beautiful like she just stepped out of vouge. My body starts to feel hot with jealousy, I turn to Trevor and he’s sitting down in an Adirondack chair by the fire so I take a seat on his lap, facing him. Trevor’s hands rest on my hips, again I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or not but Trevor is looking really good right now. Until I hear the sound of accidentally in love playing from the speakers and hear Luke come up to Trevor “Hey have you seen y/n our songs on” I turn around and all of a sudden Luke’s body tenses, fists clenched and eyes flash an emotion I’ve only seen a few times, something like anger or jealousy even, there’s no way he’s jelaous I thought.

“Oh hey Lu” I say innocently while in the background all that can be heard is

“Well, baby, I surrender To the strawberry ice cream Never ever end of all this love Well, I didn't mean to do it But there's no escaping your love, oh”

Luke grabs my arm and leads me up the stairs to our room. “What the hell do you think your doing y/n” Luke says, face red with anger. “Luke what is your problem” now I’m getting angry. Why is it okay for him to be all over other girls but I’m with one guy WHO WE KNOW and it’s a problem? “Why were you all up on Trevor’s lap like some kind of —“ he stops himself. “Some kind of what Luke? Tell me” He shoots me a look as if I am the one who just implied he was a slut. I go to try and walk out of the door when Lukes arm reaches out and grabs me. “why were you sitting on his lap you only ever sit on mine” Luke says looking defeated. Why am I starting to feel bad? “I just was talking to him and that’s how we were sitting, I don’t know Lu” “we’re you going to hook up with him?” The question lingers in the air. Was I? I mean Trevor’s hot and all but I only really have eyes for Luke but like I said Luke is never gonna happen he doesn’t even have feelings for me. “I don’t know, I mean if something happened I wasn’t gonna stop it.” Luke just dead stares at me. “You can’t hook up with Trevor, you just can’t.” “I can hook up with whoever I want to Luke”

He takes a step closer to me so now we’re only an inch apart. My body feels like it’s on fire, looking up at him with the soft glow of the moon outside he looks like an angel. Ugh What am I saying I’m supposed to be pissed at him right now. “Luke I” Within a second Luke’s lips are on mine. For a moment everything seems right, our lips fit perfectly together like a missing puzzle piece to the old puzzle you’ve had for years and you’re only missing that one piece, when finally you find it in the most blatant of spots. We pull apart and when I open my eyes Luke is smiling at me. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long kit.” He says as this thumbs are rubbing across my cheeks. “Lu can I tell you something?” “Anything.” “I think I accidentally fell in love with you a long time ago.” I say and Luke’s smile gets even bigger if that was even possible. “I think I accidentally fell in love with you a long time ago too.”

“I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love, I'm in love Accidentally

Come on, come on Spin a little tighter Come on, come on And the world's a little brighter Come on, come on Just get yourself inside her love I'm in love”

[joekeeryswife]

I saw you did an Alex fic and omg I loved it but do you think you could do like an angsty fic where idk like Alex and the reader get into an argument and then the reader goes to miles to comfort but then Alex finds out and gets more mad?? Idk thats js an idea but angst pleaseee🙏🙏

Fight - a.t

a/n: hey loves, thank you for the love on my last imagine! i rushed this and didnt know how to write it. i will do a part two if you guys want! sort of hate this icl so i might re-write it 🫶🏼

also please send me alex requests! i also now do instagram aus 🫶🏼

“why do you always have to do this Alex? i’m just trying to keep this relationship going and all you’re doing is ignoring me. all the time. i feel like i’m talking to a brick wall” you shout at him. for weeks he had been avoiding you, coming home late and leaving super early in the morning. whenever you did see each other all you did was fight and you hated that.

“i don’t know y/n maybe because you’re so insufferable that i don’t want to be here?” he shouted back, he could feel his body getting hot. he was mad but he didn’t mean what he said. he had been so caught up with writing and singing that he had hardly spent time at home with you and it was getting to both of you. “what? that’s just fucking rude Alex. i have no idea what is going on with you but you’re not the alex i fell in love with. you’ve changed and i barely see you now”

you didn’t mean for this fight to start. he had come home somewhat early and you’d asked him to sit and watch a film with you but he’d rolled his eyes saying he didn’t want to spend time with you and that’s how you got here. “y/n i don’t want to spend time with you okay? just leave me alone” you felt your eyes fill with tears, nodding your head you made your way to the front door.

you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys “where are you going now?” you scoffed at him. “didn’t you just tell me to leave you alone? so i’m leaving you alone.” you quickly slipped out of the door and slammed it shut behind you making him flinch as the house shook. he sighed, walking to the sofa and sat down groaning at himself for what he’d done. “fucking idiot mate” he rubbed his forehead in annoyance, he had royally fucked up.

Alex sat on the sofa for forty minutes until he realised he needed to go and look for you. he’d messages all your friends and you weren’t at any of theirs and he was starting to get worried. even though he was frustrated, stressed and annoyed he was still worried about you. he stood up and decided he would go to Miles’ house to try and get him to help look for you.

-♡-

you had somehow ended up at Miles’ house. he had been alex’s best friend for years and you two had become close when you and Alex started dating. you just needed someone to talk to who understood Alex and what he was going through and your friends wouldn’t understand.

you were both sat on the sofa opposite each other, you were sobbing and Miles felt awful. “i just- i don’t know what’s happened to him. we used to be so in love and he has changed so much” you sniffled. you wanted your relationship with Alex to work out, you’d been together for four years, engaged for a year and planning a wedding yet he was distant.

“he spoke to me the other day, told me that you hadn’t been getting along and that he was really stressed with writing. apparently the label are being arseholes and are stressing him out, keeping him at work till late and he hates being away from you. i think he’s just very stressed and it’s not right him taking it out on you but i don’t think he means it” Miles tried to comfort you, you had no idea Alex had been feeling like this and honestly it made you feel even worse.

“do you think there’s anything i could do to help him? i don’t want him feeling like this and i want to help him” you wiped your cheeks, you still felt sad at how Alex spoke to you but you felt even more sad that Alex was feeling just as awful.

Miles went to talk but was cut off by banging on his front door. he frowned but nevertheless got up and went to go open the door. “Miles, thank god. i haven’t heard from y/b and she’s not with any of her friends. i need you to help me try and find-” you heard Alex and quickly turned to look at the doorway. he looked frantic, and his face changed from worry to anger in a matter of seconds. “y/n what the fuck? i haven’t heard from you i was worried sick” he shouted at you making you flinch.

“Alex i’m sorry but i just-” you tried to speak but he cut you off. “no y/n. i was so worried about you, you didn’t even reply to my messages and you’re here with my best friend? we have a fight and this is the first place you come too?” he shouted at you making your eyes fill with tears yet again.

you hadn’t even realised that he was messaging you, you were so focused on speaking to Miles checking your phone had completely slipped your mind. “do you have any idea how worried i was? i thought something had happened to you and this whole time you were here with Miles. that’s ridiculous y/n” Miles shook his head and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder to try calm him down.

“come on mate she didn’t mean to ignore you, we were just talking about what had happened it wasn’t her fault it was mine” he tried to defuse the situation but it was no use. “no Miles don’t try take the blame. y/n you done this on purpose, you’re just so selfish i can’t believe this is where you were. is something going on between the two of you? so that why you came here?” you were shocked at what you were hearing. you would never ever cheat on Alex.

“what? are you joking?” he stood there, his face not changing one bit as he awaited your answer. “that is almost laughable that you’d even think that. i love you. i’m still madly in love with you and im sick and tired of you talking to me like im a piece of shit” tears were now flowing down your cheeks as you stood up and barged past him, making sure to knock his shoulder.

“well, you really fucked that one up Alex” Miles sighed. Alex bowed his head, he had pushed you away and been so rude to you that now you’d left him. he’d lost you and he’d never regretted something more in his whole life.

[lazycats-stuff]

👋Hello, hope you are having a good day/night?

If you're interested in writing it I thought of an idea Bruce(Bats) x tall male werewolf reader

Reader is on the run from hunters and is hiding in Gotham. He's way taller than Bruce, a little rough around the edges and a total badass. No one knows he's a werewolf till some hunters come to Gotham, maybe they want to kill reader because he's a werewolf or want his pelt because its rare? Your choice. And maybe a lil bit of batfam?

Of course I'm interested. It sounds interesting. I do wonder how Bruce would react to a werewolf boyfriend.

Summary: Bruce meets a werewolf. Of course he doesn't realize it right away, but once he notices different people lingering around (Y/N), he is not sure that he knows everything about (Y/N).

Warnings: Violence, shifting into a werewolf, murder, Bruce being scared of the reader (for a moment)

(Y/N) walked back home. It was 2 am and he had just finished his shift as a security guard at the club. His statue and attitude in general made is great for a security guard in a rowdy club. And it worked well in Gotham. Criminals don't really come near you and they leave you be.

And if necessary, you could help out someone. Although, even the people he helped out were afraid of him. Could he blame them? No. He is tall as Mount Everest, with muscles and looks like he is one step away from murder.

Either way, it was great.

But this city was not. He now officially hates this city. There was far too noise for his supernatural hearing. He wanted to move away, somewhere far away from everyone, with woods near him. He doesn't like to be able in human form for a long time.

He checked his watch. 2:14 am. He will be back in ten more minutes and then he will sleep. He will have to text his boyfriend that he got home.

He took a quick look around, his paranoia acting up. He went through a lot over the years, he saw a lot of violence, death and destruction. Most of his friends were gone and he was now the definition of a loner wolf.

He looked down at his phone. His boyfriend was calling.

" Hey B. "

" Hey, are you near the apartment? "

" Close. I still can't believe you would stay up so late for me. "

" You are my boyfriend who works nightshifts. I'm worried about you walking around Gotham alone. I know you are taller than me and strong as me, but I still worry. "

" Well, there is no need. I will talk to you later and go to bed. "

" Will do. "

(Y/N) hanged up and put the phone back into his pocket. He took his keys and unlocked his apartment building. He needs to get in and sleep. He was about to unlock his apartment, but the smell made him stop. Who the hell was in his apartment? He took a sniff. It smelled familiar, but he couldn't pin point where he smelled it. That wasn't good.

He unlocked the door, moving quietly inside. He pounced at the figure waiting for him. (Y/N) pinned him to the ground, freezing when he saw the face. His old friend, who was supposed to be dead.

" What... You are supposed to be dead... How are you alive? " (Y/N) asked, shocked all the way to his core.

" I faked my death, my dear friend. "

(Y/N) stood up from his now alive friend, allowing him to get up.

" Why? "

" There are hunters coming to Gotham, but they are far more dangerous then the ones you encountered before. They are looking for your pelt my friend. "

" These aren't the ones that kill? "

" No, " the man shook his head, " They are far more sadistic. They will torture you until you turn and then skin you alive. And if you are lucky then they will kill you. " He said, sitting down on the couch.

" What name do you go by? " (Y/N) asked, crossing his arms.

" Alex. You need to leave Gotham now. "

(Y/N) shook his head. He can't. He can't leave Bruce and most definitely not his boys. He loved those boys as if they were his own. He considered them a part of his pack, people he needed to protect.

" I can't Alex. I... "

" Oh my God... You got connected with someone. You got a little pack! " Alex exclaimed.

" Keep your voice down. "

" Oh my dear friend... Well, you either tell them what you are or leave them. One way or another, the hunters will come for you. "

" I know that. "

" I hope you do. I have to go, I got to go now. Stay strong. "

" What other choice do we have? " (Y/N) asked Alex, who shrugged his shoulders.

He left the apartment and (Y/N) had sat down on the couch, leaning down and putting his head in his hands. What was he going to do? He needs to tell Bruce, but for the first time in a long time he was afraid. He feared the rejection more than the hunters... His priorities were messed up.

" Shit... "

But Bruce deserved to know the truth. He could at least do that. But could his heart take the rejection? (Y/N) muttered out a fuck then he looked for his phone. No... He is going to call him in the morning and ask him to meet. He has the weekend off and the time won't be the problem... Now he has to think about what to tell Bruce. Great...

(Y/N) was driving to the manor, trying to ignore the twitching oh his fingers on the steering wheel. His heart was beating so hard that (Y/N) thought that it was going to jump out of his chest. He got past the gate and parked the car. He saw Bruce waiting already at the entrance of the house. (Y/N) took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

He stepped out, going straight to Bruce. Bruce reached out, but (Y/N) stopped.

" Bruce, I... I need to tell you something... Well, I need to show you this, otherwise you won't believe me. "

Bruce tilted his head, clearly confused. (Y/N) took his hand and dragged him to the back of the house, the part that was covered by the woods. He could show him there.

" (Y/N) what are we doing back here? What do you need to show me?"

" Now, you are either going to hate me or kill me... Nothing in between. Are we alone? " (Y/N) asked taking his shirt off.

" Yes we are, but why are you taking your clothes off?! " Bruce asked, completely thrown off by (Y/N)'s behavior.

" Bruce, I am a werewolf. "

Bruce laughed for a second, but the laugh stopped when he saw (Y/N) in his boxers and then shifting.

The sound of bones cracking, as if they are breaking, the limbs turning into paws. Bruce saw fur that was black as night and then the most blue eyes he has ever seen. And the wolf was the biggest animal that Bruce has ever seen. And Bruce?

Bruce was in shock, eyes wide. (Y/N) whimpered and then lowered himself onto his belly. He wanted to show Bruce that he had nothing to fear, that he wasn't going to hurt him.

It took Bruce a moment to snap back. He crouched down, reaching out to (Y/N)'s head. He wanted to pet it. Why? The fur seemed soft and (Y/N) lowered himself on his belly.

" It's okay, I'm not going to hate you. " Bruce consoled his lover. (Y/N) sighed in happiness, moving closer to Bruce, wagging his big tail. He gently licked Bruce's hands.

Bruce smiled, scratching (Y/N)'s ears.

" I have a secret to tell you myself. Well, I have to show you too. "

(Y/N) shifted back to his human form, now only in boxers. He put his clothes on quickly, then hugged Bruce.

" Thank you... For not rejecting me... "

" I would never do that hun. Did something happen? "

" Yeah... Can we go inside? "

Bruce nodded, taking his lover inside. They sat at the couch, holding hands.

" So, if you are not a human in this world, there are going to be hunters after you. If you are a werewolf, you will hunted for your fur... But now, there is a new type of hunters. The ones that are far more sadistic, the one that torture you until you turn and then make sure you stay in that... Form as they skin you..." (Y/N) stopped, choking on his breath.

Bruce squeezed his hands, to calm him.

" Sweetie, that won't happen to you. "

" How do you know that? " (Y/N) asked, closing his eyes for a moment.

" Because I am Batman. "

(Y/N) opened his eyes and looked at Bruce. What? But... Everything fit together.

" Oh my God... "

" Yeah... " Bruce said, turning his head to the side with a small, nervous smile.

" I have questions about your werewolf side. Way to many. And I would like to get rid of those hunters for good. Well, not kill them, but... Make sure that they won't come back to Gotham. "

" What are we going to tell the boys? And Alfred? "

" They will understand, trust me hun, we have seen stuff that... Well, we have seen a lot. I think they will even cuddle with you even more. Damian will love you even more. "

(Y/N) smiled, moving closer to Bruce, kissing him gently. Bruce wrapped his arms around (Y/N), bringing him into his lap.

" Okay, you two need to get a room. " Jason said, turning his head away.

(Y/N) and Bruce moved away from one another, trying not to blush.

" Jason, why are you home earlier? " Bruce asked his son.

Jason has shrugged his shoulders and went to the kitchen. (Y/N) glanced at Bruce with a small smile. It will an interesting evening to say the least.

The reveal of (Y/N)'s werewolf side went well. Damian was the first to hug (Y/N)'s wolf and demanded that (Y/N) be in his werewolf form more. He won't take no for an answer. But they were mad once they heard about hunters trying to hurt their new dad.

Bastards. Jason was ready to kill them. (Y/N) had to restrain him to not do anything stupid. And that's why Jason was now on (Y/N)'s lap. He didn't mind it.

" Okay, then what is the plan? Hunters are close to Gotham and we need to protect you. You are like our second dad... " Dick said, looking down at the floor.

" Well, I wanted to ask you this question for a while... Would you like to move in with us? " Bruce asked, hope shining in his eyes.

" Of course. You guys are my pack now. "

Jason leaned back, wrapping (Y/N) arms around him.

" It's official. You are our new dad. " Jason said, nodding to himself.

" Well, I say we set a trap for the hunters. " Damian said, standing up from the chair he was sitting in.

" An ambush you mean? " Tim asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

" Of course. (Y/N) gave us the descriptions and we can track them easily. They are going to pay. " Damian said, fire burning in his eyes.

Bruce looked a bit worried, but he couldn't exactly blame his son either. Nobody should go through what (Y/N) went through. Nobody.

" Hun, you stay put and we will deal with them. " Bruce said, taking his cowl. Jason stood up from (Y/N)'s lap and joined the others. They got ready and with a hug went to the car. Bruce gave (Y/N) a quick kiss and then a hug.

" Wait here, we will be back soon. "

(Y/N) nodded, sitting back down. He glanced at Alfred, the person who was quiet this entire time.

" I'm happy you are here master (Y/N), don't worry about my opinion. You have made master Bruce happy and the boys have accepted you. What more could I ask for? " Alfred said, smiling at (Y/N).

" You know, I have always wanted your approval. "

Alfred hummed, smiling at the werewolf.

" Well, you don't have to worry about that. I see the way you look at Bruce and the boys... You love them like they are your own and you are not freaked out by master Bruce night job. You are quite okay with that. And maybe I favor you more than Bruce. "

(Y/N) nodded, standing up and then hugging Alfred.

" Thanks Alfred. "

Alfred hugged back. (Y/N) was finally happy. He found the man he loves, the kids he loves as if they were his own... He found his pack. He finally found his pack.

[bitbybitwrites]

It's been awhile again since I've done any of these - lately computer issues have kept me from writing, but here's a few snippets ( one Klaine and one FirstPrince WIP) that I was working on before my computer decided to be a pain in my ass.

Thanks to the following people for tagging me for WIP Wednesday and Six/Seven/Several Sentence Sunday in the past few weeks ( if I forgot anyone in this list below I'm sorry!):

@taste-thewaste @thighzp @porcelainmortal @getmehighonmagic @littlemisskittentoes

@thesleepyskipper @alasse9 @stratocumulusperlucidus @softboynick @sophie1973

@sheepywritesfics @onthewaytosomewhere

Snippets are under the cut.

***

1.) From If I Can Make Your Heart My Home ( Klaine fic) cc @datshitrandom

“But you never came by when I was awake.”

“I . . I was too afraid to hear what you’d say if you saw me.”

The blood began to pulse in Blaine’s ears.  “What did you think I would have said?”

Kurt sighed.  Now he was the one averting his eyes.

“That you never wanted to see me again.  That you hated me. . .” he murmured.  “I . . I hurt you, Blaine.  I can’t change how badly I fucked up.  I know I did.  I know I did big time.  And . . it was . . it was horrible of me to do everything that I did. Because you are right.  You deserved so much better than that.”

Kurt stood up and began to pace nervously.  “Look.  I was afraid. Hell, I still am a bit.  Afraid that maybe Sebastian was right.”

Blaine sat up straighter at the mention of the younger Smythe’s name. “’What?  What did Sebastian say to you?”

 Kurt flinched at the sharpness in Blaine’s tone.  “He . . he said . .” Kurt wrapped his arms around himself, sinking back into the other end of the couch.  “Sebastian said that . . I was nothing but a novelty to you. A joke . . basically some sort of low brow entertainment for you on the side.  I wasn’t anything that was worth your time. And there was no way I could be able to keep up with your . . lifestyle . . .”

Blaine paled.  “Kurt . . I would never . . you. . .you don’t really believe I felt that way . . .”

Kurt let out a wet laugh.  He shrugged his shoulders.  “No . . but . . Blaine, come on.  What could I possibly give to you?  I can’t take you to fancy restaurants or trips out to the Hamptons. I don’t own a penthouse or a limo.  I don’t even own a restaurant.  I’m just this  . .  this nobody from a rural town in Ohio. . . You’re . .”

“Don’t.  Don’t say it.”

“You’re an Anderson, Blaine.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I might have to disagree.” Blaine muttered

Kurt shook his head, his expression sofenting.  “Look, if you take your father out of the picture, the Andersons are pretty amazing.  They are caring and selfless. They are philanthropic and so loving and open-hearted.  You. . . your brother. . . your grandmother.  You’re all the same.  And it's wonderful.”

*****

2.) From Puppy Love (FirstPrince fic) - cc @omgbarbiegurl

“Now do you have all of your stuff?  Remember you’re at Tia Nora’s tonight.”

Raf nodded.  “I packed everything.  Even a ball so I can play with Tia Nora’s next door neighbor.”

“That’s nice.” Alex said as he hustled around his apartment, shutting off lights.

“He’s adopted and he’s really nice. Sometimes he’s allowed to come over and play with me if I stay over.”

“You finish your homework first, right?” Alex asked

Raf sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Yes.  Tia Nora won’t let me do ANYTHING until I finish my homework first.”

“That’s good.  Glad you made a friend over at Nora’s.”

“Papi?”

Alex  hummed as he started flicking through his phone , partly to see if there were any new work messages from Liam or June, partially to see if Henry had texted him. “Yeah, mijo?”

“Are you sure we can’t have a dog?”

“Raf . .”

“I’d take care of it really well, I promise . .  .” the little boy pleaded.

Alex knelt down as he could be more at eye level.  “Hey, I know you want one.  But it wouldn’t be fair to a puppy to be left alone so much - with my work schedule and then you not even being home at at Tia Nora’s place.”

“But we could bring it there.”

“Tia Nora is doing me a HUGE favor by watching you when she can.  It wouldn’t be fair if I gave her 2 kids to look after - a human one  AND a furry one.”

Raf pouted, crossing his arms.  “I don’t think she’d mind.”

Alex pulled his son into a tight hug.  “Once everything kind of slows down and we can get things settled so we’re home more, we’ll look into it.  Until then, you always can come with me to the rescue and help out playing with the animals who don’t have homes yet.  They get pretty lonely there sometimes.”

A small dramatic sigh erupted from the small frame in Alex’s arms.   He had to bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. 

“OK . . but can I do it soon?” Raf asked.

“I’ll check the schedule with Tia June and we’ll see what we can do.”

“¿Prometes? (You promise)” Raf asked as he held out his pinky to his dad eagerly.

“Si.  Lo prometo, mijo.(Yes, I promise, son.)” Alex said with a smile.

****

And for anyone who may want to play . . a BIG OPEN TAG . . but also:

@myheartalivewrites, @gleefulpoppet @wowbright @14carrotghoul @iboatedhere

@itsmaybitheway @little-escapist @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @sarkyblueeyes @tailsbeth-writes

@rmd-writes @cha-melodius @madas-ahatters-world @kirakiwiwrites @shegoestoeleven

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Thoughts: The Deadline Contender Panel

Quick list of very direct, subjective, random and spontaneous thoughts I had while listening/watching the panel:

I absolutely understand that Taylor probably doesn't remember every detail of the movie off the top of his head, especially with nerves, but Sweetheart really didn't describe the played DNC scene correctly😅

That being said Taylor calling Henry Alex's boyfriend made me SO FUCKING HAPPY???? I was squealing and kicking my legs because of all the feels. On top of that, intentional or not, Taylor takes a breath so it goes "wanted to bring his... boyfriend!" and there's this subtle emphasis on the word, I am screaming

I do question why this scene though? I don't know much about this whole process, but just an educated guess, if we're trying to get an emmy nom via this panel, shouldn't we be showing a scene that's more representative of the movie's core? Like, say the New Year's scene, or Kensington Palace, or the Lake scene. If we have to include the comedy aspect, then show the freaking Red Room. I love this scene of course, but if the purpose is to nominate ourselves and show ourselves then I feel like another scene should have been picked

Why can't people freaking pronounce Nick's surname correctly? It's phonic! Ga - Lit- Zine

"Orange Guy was still president" I snorted

I heard there's stupid discourse over this minor, harmless thing, but because people are stupid, here to clarify "especially Taylor since he's here" is CLEARLY A JOKE BETWEEN FRIENDS and if you didn't pick that up then that's kind of sad :P

I'm wondering if there's still recordings of the zoom auditions/chem read. I can also imagine zoom chem read being much harder. Honestly I think zoom auditions only work with monologues.

He did the chem read in his sister's apartment lmao

THEIR CHEM READ WAS KENXINGTON????!!! WHAT THE FUCK???!!! THE MOMENT THAT MADE MATTHEW GO "there's the one" WAS THIS FREAKING SCENE??? This also implies they had to say "I love you" upon the first time meeting each other oh my god I wanna see that so bad

Also I cannot freaking imagine this intense of a scene via zoom, God I really want to see it (don't think we'll ever get it but still)

Someone ask Matthew or Nick what the other scene in the chem read is

The notebook, pride and prejudice and 10 things i hate about you mention made me happy :D

The speech thing... Kinda feel like should be a Matthew question? It's cool to hear that Taylor referenced President Obama but this is still ultimately him being Alex? Plus Taylor's a great public speaker to begin with

Did he dabble in political science? Did he ever mention that? I know he did Spanish and Community but political science?

I think the only really bad gay movie in recent years was Bros and that has a myriad of issues internally and externally, but I think it's just this one?

Why is TikTok the metric? Might write something longer in the future when I have time but the thing is with this

Speaking of Taylor and queer roles, I think I saw somewhere that Noah Torres was bi?

I talked to @pippin-katz about this but dear God, I have heard the question "What is your favourite scene" being asked to the boys at least three times now, and they always answer the cake scene. Why don't they ever expand on the question, especially since Taylor affed the Kensington scene this time, and why don't they ever ask other questions or ask about specifics? Between me and my friends, we came up with at least 40 questions that could be asked to the boys and haven't been asked yet.

Nick how the fuck did cream stay in/ behind your ear for two days and Taylor how did you spot it

I'm honestly getting really tired of the sequel question, it's always phrased the same way, and of course, the answer is gonna be the same. Even if they knew, they contractually can't tell us, the first announcement of a sequel will have to come from a bigger source like Amazon themselves.

I understand being nervous but this interviewer felt too timid and unsure of herself

Overall still very enjoyable, always more than happy to hear Taylor speak about his baby that we all love, but the question are so freaking repetitive. I said it clearer in my discussion with Pippin so here's a screenshot of that part

[lxclerc]

𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐞 | 𝐦𝐯𝟑𝟑

SUMMARY: max is your lavender haze WARNING: fluff PAIRING: max verstappen x singer!reader WORD COUNT: 842

NOTE: a drabble to ease me back into writing. also yes, i spend most of my time praying for max's downfall but still.

MASTERLIST

Max’s head is right by yours as the two of you lay on your backs, hands intertwined as you stare up at the ceiling. The hotel room is nearly completely silent apart from the ticking of the clock that is becoming more and more apparent as the seconds come by. 

You’re both needed to be somewhere in a few minutes and yet as everything becomes overwhelming, you find yourselves laying on the bed. Max has never been one for the press. He says the wrong things, being far more truthful than he ever needs to be which ends up with him unknowingly causing problems. They want him to fail and that was completely fine. Everyone has biases and he’s here to race, not make friends. He doesn’t need people to like him. He just needs them to respect him.

And there’s you anyway. There’s always you. There’s you with your reassuring smile and you who refuses to listen to anything they say about him. There’s you with your tight hold on his hand and you with your loudest cheer. There’s always you and there’s always him and so neither of you need anyone else. 

You turn to face him, squeezing his hand. “You’re going to be late.”

Max makes a show of groaning as his hand lets go of yours in order to wrap his arm around you, pulling you closer to his chest. “I want to stay here.”

You wanted to stay in your bubble of lavender haze too but you had your own commitments you needed to get to. You have your own interview for your latest album in a few hours, one you need to start getting ready for. In your head, you’re already gagging at the questions that will have absolutely nothing to do with your music and more to do with getting clickbaits about your love life. You’re already preparing yourself for the mental torture of having to go through an interviewer going around in the same question till you relent and give the answer he wants.

It’s all mind games really. 

Still tho, you’re the one to sit up and pull Max with you. He needs to be at the paddock and you’d rather not have your manager come barging at your door because you’re going to be late for the radio interview. 

“It’s media day,” Max says with a groan as his head falls against your shoulder. No driver really actually enjoys media day but perhaps Max hates it the most. 

You push his hair out of his face, placing a soft kiss against the bridge of his nose. “I have a radio interview.”

He groans again, for you this time. Perhaps you share the same feelings for media day. 

The two of you would have stayed like that longer if it weren’t for the matching knocks on the door, ones you’re sure belongs to your manager and someone from red bull getting ready to drag him out of his ass. Your suspicions were confirmed as Alex, your forty something year old manager that sometimes feels more like a big sister, comes in without waiting for a confirmation. Behind him, a poor red bull intern had been tasked with getting Max along. She looks almost terrified and a little bit too excited as she saw you in the room with Max. 

“Get it moving, the two of you,” Alex says, holding a clipboard that contains your schedule for the day. “Let go of my kid, Verstappen.”

You laugh at the childish pout that overtake Max’s face. 

You hold his face against your hands as you kiss him. “I’ll see you later, my love.”

“Save me,” he whines against your lips. “Later can’t come around faster.”

You laugh again, both from his whining and the sound of Alex making gagging noises as he watched the display of very clear affection before him. Unfortunately for everyone around you, you and Max are that couple – far too ridiculously in love for everyone else. 

Still, you can’t be blamed. This is all new to you. Your history with dating has not only been messy but also unfortunately a global gossip. Men have not only broken your heart but rather also stomped on it in the worst, most public ways possible. Men who want to love you in public but can’t seem to stand you in private. And to have Max who loves every part and version of you, who complains about being away from you because he simply enjoys your company that much is new to you.

And it’s glorious and beautiful and wonderful and gods be damned if you’d let anyone shame you for it.

“Alright, alright, you love each other. We need to go,” Alex interrupts, practically grabbing your arm to pull you away. Still, there’s an affectionate smile curving his lips. He likes to pretend to be annoyed but you know he’s happy for you. He knows you deserve this and he knows Max does too. 

You’d stay in this lavender haze forever if you could. 

---

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot

[1kazul]

intro post but i'm a year late

hey! i'm kazul, nice to meet you :}

if incorrectly-capitalised stuff annoys you i highly suggest you continue scrolling now

shoutout to @/forest-fairy-wren. random (yet lovely) person i saw the blog of today who happened to have an intro post which inspired me to finally make one myself.

Important things:

- i'm transmasc! he/him pronouns, any neos (no pref) as well

- i'm a minor, please don't ask me for money or be nasty. you will get blocked.

- it's pronounced "kuh-ZOOL"

- i'm a furry and a questioning alterhuman. if you're remotely against either of these identities please dni

- i was raised on david bowie music and taught that he is love and he is life (/mj) so uhhm thats probably relevant somehow

- please use tonetags when saying something to me that could be perceived multiple ways! if you're not sure if that's the case, use a tag!

Stuff i like v

Music: bands/artists

david bowie (obv) and most 70s/80s rock + new wave bands (ask me if i know ppl you like!)

mother mother

alex g

noah kahan

the backseat lovers

boywithuke/chandol (!!)

hozier (!!)

conan gray

sleeping at last

coldplay

billie eilish (sorta)

IDKhow

saint motel

lemon demon

will wood (both with and without his tapeworms)

jack stauber

fleet foxes

the barr brothers

death cab for cutie

all the epic the musical people

specific songs i love (you're seeing into my soul here):

sailor song - gigi perez

world burns - lokel

strawberry wine - noah kahan

unknown/nth - hozier

problems - pinegrove

runaway - boywithuke

Fandoms i'm in (in order of most stronglyness upon making this post):

epic the musical

the disastrous life of saiki k.

dead boy detectives

brooklyn nine nine (jake peralta is Literally (/nsrs) Me)

doctor who

dandadan

supernatural

Stardew Valley

good omens

cyberpunk edgerunners (haven't played the game)

helluva boss (not a fan of hazbin hotel, really)

koe no katachi/a silent voice

the wild robot

legend of zelda, mostly botw & totk

bbc sherlock

httyd

[def more that i forgot and will add when i remember]

fun facts abt me because i can't think what to add next:

im not british (or anything non-american). in sixth grade my friend and i discovered bbc sherlock, got hyperfixated on it, and decided to start spelling things the non-'merican way. he's dropped it, but the habit has stuck with me since.

i really like boba tea and fully believe that tapioca is better than the popping pearls (the flavor of the latter is just lost in the tea, and there's barely any texture, what's the point??) (gen confused. /srs)

big fan of the sky. specifically the night sky but i like the sky in general. i love to take pictures of cool scenes in daytime and ones of the stars. sometimes i post them here.

I'm the drummer in a band that's part of an organization in my local place of living. we're called 'God Save the Queer'. it's me (transmasc, remember?), and a lesbian couple. currently we're working on covering Days by mothermother, and we're planning to do some original stuff in the future :3

my favourite emoticon/text face is :}, as can be seen at the top of this post.

i'm working on learning ASL! for funsies, to support the deaf community, and bc sometimes i hate talking. inspired originally by A Silent Voice (movie mentioned in the fandoms section. it's a beautiful anime about a deaf girl)

when writing does not need to be cohesive and understandable, (such as when texting) i love to use strange punctuation and capitalisation: (,,, , blah Blah ,, .example . Text Here.) my friends find it a nightmare. (or at least one has told me so :D)

i usually do exclamation marks in pairs. (!!) three seems too excited and fake, and one is rarely enough.

i really like the movie Fall Guy. the newish one starring ryan gosling. i would mention it in the fandoms section but i don't think there really is much of a fandom for it. i haven't gone looking, so i very well may be mistaken, i dont know. anyways yeah. fav movie atm and probably will be for a while (couple years mb. i'm picky.).

i'm orchidromantic, which means i feel attraction but don't want a relationship. fancy way of saying i have commitment issues :]

I have a scar on my forehead from my brother throwing a spoon around when we were younger. (my villain origin story frfr) (feel free to ask about it if ya care to know more /nf)

My tags!

kazzydoodles <- art stuff ( i barely ever post- i think i have two things on here that i've drawn lmao. but i might post more if i feel like it in la futura) (i don't think that's right.)

kazzyyaps <- my yapping posts! mostly talking about stuff going on in my life, or like random thoughts.

kazzy crashes out <- my vent posts. feel free to block this tag ^^

and that, dear reader, is the end. whether you read the whole post or simply skipped and ended up here, this is where you are now.

have a cookie 🍪. or if you don't want, or can't eat one, then have a wonderful day instead <3 (in fact, if you so choose, you may have both.)

:}

[callmewrinkles3]

Hi kiddos. Alex here. I know nobody asked for this but goddamn, I just needed to get it out of my chest and out of my head because today has been bad.

Nobody wants another sad story but there it goes. I was never a sports person until my best friend made me sit in front of our TV to watch twenty guys go around in circles driving fast cars. She spent her childhood watching Fernando race, so I just sat there without understanding shit. We were in deep shit in every single possible way, so I didn't complain about it because she was happy to do it.

It was the worst summer of our lives for too many reasons, but we spent those weekends watching YouTube videos about F1 to cheer ourselves up. It was really really really bad, but for a while that made it better. I can even point to the exact two moments I fell in love with Dan during those days. The first episode of DTS when he says he is a mechanic and the McL*ren snacks video where he had the goddamn Let's fuck ring. It was instant love. That was the moment my brain yelled "Yup, that's my guy". I also remember the first time I saw him. It was during the Hungary GP red flag after Valtteri destroyed everything that moved. I saw Dan standing beside the car looking at the damage and I remember thinking “Goddamn” because it was a mess.

I went from not being a sports fan to absolutely getting obsessed with it and with him. I remember Monza weekend like it was yesterday, grabbing my bestie’s hand after the sprint and saying “NO BUT YOU DONT GET IT” because he wasn’t going to start P3 but P2. I used part of our savings to get that pink shirt because it meant the world that weekend. I used part of my salary to buy an old school yellow Renault Dan shirt with my first job after not working for months thanks to covid. We were the most irresponsible people ever and we spent all our savings buying tickets to the race here in Barcelona the next year because it became my dream to actually see Dan racing in front of me. It was worth every single cent because it was a privilege to see him racing not once but twice.

The thing is, that curly Aussie man brought me the biggest smile on the worst days. He put a smile on my face when probably nothing else could. He gave me some of my biggest happy moments and some of the worst headaches and heartbreaks of the last four years. He even got me the motivation to write again after centuries of not doing it even when I love it probably more than anything else. He gave me my friends because I would never have met them if it wasn’t for our mutual love for him.

Dan is magically was the reason why @honeybadgercomeback appeared at the exact time I needed them the most. Heaven knows this needs a special mention because holyshit I love Ciara so much it's ridiculous. They stood by my side and listened to me cry for hours and stayed there when anxiety kicked me in the ass. They decided to write a whole story with me and create an entire world out of it. It's my pride and joy to do it. They even opened the doors of her family and home when I was about to explode and there aren't enough words to thank you. They're really the Blake to my Dan and heaven knows nobody will ever do it like we do. We have planned the whole thing to watch Austin together at my place next month, and even today they stood by my side when I said I couldn't watch it if Dan's not there. If that's not love then I don't know, kids.

It breaks my heart. I can't explain how badly I cried today about all this mess. The way the press and his own teams have treated him over the last couple of years is unfair. To see him leave like this is unfair. I absolutely hate it, but this is so incredibly unfair and wrong that I just reached the point where I found myself actually saying to myself that I just hope he retires and gets home to his family. I just reached the point where I’m exhausted by the sport I love so much and goddamn I’m not even planning to watch the rest of the races if he is not there. To see him crying in the media pen broke my heart, and I can't. Even then I truly hope this is not the last one. I just want to see him in Austin again. I really want him to have the farewell he deserves.

All this to say goddamn, how I love Daniel. I'm thankful for the last four years of love I got from seeing that lanky man on my TV doing what he loves. He means more to me than I could ever say. I love him more than words can express. He'll always be my guy. He'll always be my baby. God, I would go to the end of the world and to war for that man. Whatever happens next I just hope he is at peace after all this mess, because after fourteen years he bloody deserves it.