#remember egg and spoon races?

[aquamarineglow]

🥚!!

Bishop claims to have won the egg and spoon race at his school's sports day five years in a row. Let's assume he's not lying or exaggerating:

Sports days are typically held once a year in Primary School, where you spend six years.

So Bishop won 5/6 of the egg and spoon races during his school time.

Since he won five years in a row, that means he didn't win in either Year 1 or Year 6.

So either Bishop didn't win his first egg and spoon race, got mad and proceeded to win every year afterwards.

Or, Bishop won every race since he was five, only to not win on his final year.

[theonottsbxtch]

YO. hear me out logan sargeant smau where reader is alex albon’s sibling and after logan gets axed from williams (😭😭😭😭😭😭) they actually start talking

COOKIE | LS2

an: gahhh i love logan so much and i can't believe i haven't written the teammate's sister dynamic with him yet, but now i have and i hope you enjoy our favourite american x

fc: random brunette's off pinterest

williamsracing

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, mclaren and 985,382 others

we'd like to thank logan sargeant for all the time he's spent as a driver for williams racing, we wish for the best in his career as he moves on.

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userone: this was handled badly

usertwo: im going to miss you logan

userthree: james vowles worst tp of the century

userfour: bunch of clowns

alex_albon: will miss you lo x

userfive: finally williams did one good thing

usersix: poor logan

ynalbon: will miss your smile around the paddock lo x

userseven: williams sucks

imessage between yn and logan

alex's apartment monza race week

The faint sounds of bustling activity were drifting through the apartment as you stood in the kitchen, sunlight streaming in through the large window. Alex’s sleek, modern space was a comforting mix of his racing memorabilia and the warmth of home. Pulling your phone from your pocket and glancing at the news alert once more. Logan had just been sacked and very quickly replaced. A heavy sigh escaped your lips; you knew how much this meant to him, how closely tied his identity was to the sport.

As you leaned against the countertop, you glanced down at Stan, one of your brother’s man cats, casting expectant eyes in your direction. He nudged your leg with his nose, as if sensing your mood. You crouched down, scratching behind his ears absentmindedly, your mind swirling with thoughts of Alex and the fact that he was getting ready to race in Monza with a new teammate. The team dynamics had shifted, and you couldn’t help but you could feel how the changes had affected Alex.

The idea strikes you suddenly—Logan lived across the hall, he hadn’t moved out yet. You remembered how he always seemed to light up the room, his laugh infectious even in the darkest of moments. You decided that a small gesture might help lift his spirits. Maybe a little treat would remind him that he wasn’t alone in all of this.

You set to work, gathering ingredients from the kitchen. Flour, sugar, and eggs scattered across the countertop as you rummaged through the cabinets. Stan watched you curiously, jumping up onto the counter and tilting his head as you started mixing the batter for chocolate chip cookies. The scent of melting butter and sugar filled the air, sweet and comforting, reminding you of simpler times when you spent all your time out of school baking for your brother in between his competitions.

You popped a spoonful of the thick, glossy batter into your mouth, savouring the taste of nostalgia. With each stir, your thoughts drifted back to the late-night conversations you had with Logan after the races when everyone was setting down, the way he would joke about the pressures of the track, the bond that formed between the three of you by some weird miracle.

As you shaped the dough into perfect little balls and placed them on the baking tray, the oven preheating with a soft hum. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Logan’s expression when he tasted them. You knew he had a sweet tooth, often indulging in baked goods after a long day of training.

While the cookies baked, the kitchen filled with a warm, inviting aroma. You sat on the counter, swinging your legs next to Stan. You thought about Logan again, about the pressure he must be feeling, and how a small act of kindness might brighten his day, if only for a moment.

The timer dinged, and you hopped down, excitement bubbling within you. You carefully pull the tray from the oven, the golden-brown cookies looking perfect and slightly gooey in the centre. As you let them cool down, you grabbed a small tin and placed the cookies inside, sealing them with a lid.

Stan watched as you grabbed the keys, tilting his head again as if asking where you’re going. “Stay here, buddy. I’ll be back soon, and make sure the rest of the cats don’t do anything silly” you said, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears. You glanced in the mirror, smoothing your hair before stepping out into the hallway.

You walked the few steps to Logan’s apartment, knocking softly, the sound echoing against the walls. Moments later, you heard the shuffle of feet and the door swung open, revealing Logan, looking slightly surprised but smiling at the sight of you.

“Hey! What brings you here?” he asked, his voice coloured by his shock.

You held up the tin with a grin. “Thought you could use some cookies after. First race since you know.”

His expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and appreciation crossing his face. “You made these for me?” he asked, reaching for the tin, the warmth of his smile easing the tension in your chest.

Logan grinned, his eyes lighting up even more as he popped open the tin. “These look amazing! I was just about to start a movie. Want to join?” You could tell he was figuring a way to ask.

For a moment, you considered it, the thought of settling into a cosy couch with him, laughter echoing as you watch a film together. But then you remembered the little furballs waiting for you in Alex’s apartment, their mischievous antics demanding your attention.

“I’d love to, but… I really should stay here with Stan and the rest of the cats,” you replied, feeling a twinge of disappointment yourself as you watched the initial spark in Logan’s expression flicker. His shoulders slumped slightly, and you could see the hint of disappointment in his eyes.

“But...” you hesitated, feeling a burst of warmth rise in your chest. “You could always come over.”

His expression shifted from disappointment to surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“No, it’s fine! It’ll be fun, Alex doesn’t get back for another four days,” you insisted, trying to sound more enthusiastic. You stepped back, giving him room to think it over.

“Alright, then!” he said, his voice brightening again. “Let me just grab my keys.”

As he disappeared inside his apartment, you took a moment to collect your thoughts. Your heart raced a little at the idea of him coming over, the casual invitation feeling more significant than you had intended. 

Logan reappeared a moment later, a hoodie thrown on over his t-shirt, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he looked, a sudden urge to hug him washing over you. “After you,” he said, falling into step behind you as you headed down the hallway.

As you walked back to Alex’s apartment, the air buzzed with unspoken energy. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, the familiar scents of cookies enveloping you. Stan greeted you with an enthusiastic brush of his body against your legs, bounding over to Logan, who bent down to give him a quick scratch behind the ears.

“Looks like you’re already popular,” you teased, watching as Stan practically flops onto his back, craving attention.

“I have a way with cats,” he replied with a grin, straightening up and looking around. “So, what’s on the movie menu?”

“Cars? Mine and Alex’s favourite. You can pick—unless you want to help me wrangle the cats first,” you laughed, walking over to the living room where a large, comfy sofa waited. You felt the soft cushions call to you as you settled in, motioning for him to join you.

He took a seat beside you, and you couldn’t help but notice how easily you fell into conversation, the nerves dissipating as you laughed and joked around. Pulling the tin of cookies onto your lap, you offered him one. Logan took a generous bite, his eyes widening in delight.

“Wow, these are incredible! You’ve outdone yourself,” he said, and you couldn’t help but beam at the compliment.

“Thank you! They’re a family recipe, so you know they come with some serious baking credentials,” you said, a playful glint in your eye.

As you scrolled through the movie options, the atmosphere felt easy and relaxed. For the first time since Alex left you before Monza you didn’t feel to lonely.

The opening credits rolled, and for a moment, you sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the cookies and Logan’s presence wrapping around you like a cosy blanket. You glanced sideways at him, catching him grinning at the screen, and your heart swelled a little more.

You were glad you made those cookies now.

ynalbon

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, georgerussel63 and 34,5827 others

baking and night in >>

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userone: she is so pretty

usertwo: KATCHOW

userthree: i need her to bake me something stat

logansargeant: best cookies known to mankind

userfour: wait-

userfive: oh..?

alex_albon: now wait a god damn minute

usersix: my fav ever

userseven: someone needs to study the albon family genes

alex_albon has posted a story

alex’s apartment singapore race week

The hallway felt familiar under your feet now, the subtle creak of the floorboards as you crossed from Alex’s door to Logan’s. It had become a kind of routine, these quiet visits to each other’s apartments while you were housesitting. Sometimes it was to share a plate of freshly baked cookies or just to unwind after a long day. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with him, a shared understanding that neither of you had to say much to enjoy the other’s company.

As you knocked softly on his door, you didn’t expect anything unusual. But when the door opened, the first thing you noticed was the packed bag by the entryway. Your smile faltered just a little, your eyes flicking from the luggage to Logan, who stood in front of you, rubbing the back of his neck. There was a slight tension in the air, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He stepped aside to let you in, but the bags remained in your peripheral vision, a silent question hanging between you.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “Going somewhere?”

Logan glanced at the bags, then back at you, his lips pressing together for a moment. “Yeah��� I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m heading to America for a few weeks. Got an offer to test for Indy.” His voice was calm, but you caught a hint of something else underneath—maybe uncertainty or excitement.

Your stomach dropped just a little at the news. It shouldn’t surprise you—racing had always been his world, his dream—but it still hit harder than you had expected. “America?” You repeated the word softly, trying to wrap your mind around the distance.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, his hands shoved in his pockets. “It’s not set in stone, but they want me to test, see if I’m a good fit.”

“That’s… amazing, Lo,” you said, a genuine smile tugging at your lips despite the sudden knot in your chest. You’d always known he was destined for more, something bigger than these quiet evenings in a shared hallway.

“Thanks,” he replied, his own smile faint but appreciative. He watched you closely, as if gauging your reaction.

You stepped further into the room, glancing once more at the bag, before turning back to him. “I’ll miss you,” you admitted, the words coming out before you could think to soften them. It was the truth, plain and simple, though you hadn’t realised how much his presence had come to mean to you until now.

Logan looked at you for a long moment, something softening in his expression. “I’ll miss you too,” he said quietly. His words were steady, but there was an unmistakable sincerity behind them, as if they meant more than he’s letting on.

The air between you felt heavier now, filled with the things neither of you were saying. The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—just the weight of the realisation that something had shifted.

You laughed softly, trying to break the tension. “Guess I’ll have to bake my cookies for Stan instead.”

Logan chuckled, though there was still a warmth in his eyes that made your heart ache just a little. “Yeah, I’ll bet he won’t mind. But I’ll miss them… and you.” He said it again, the words lingering in the space between you.

You both stood there, neither quite knowing what to say next. The easy back-and-forth you’d grown so used to had shifted into something more meaningful, something deeper. And as much as you were happy for him—excited for the possibilities ahead—there was a small part of you that wished you could keep these moments just a little longer.

“When do you leave?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

Tomorrow. It felt so soon, so sudden, but you nodded, offering him another small smile. “Well, I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

He stepped closer then, just a little, as if drawn to you. “Thanks,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You nodded again, but the reality of it felt different, like something precious slipping through your fingers. And yet, there was no bitterness, only a quiet acceptance that this was the path he’d always been on.

You gave Logan one last smile before turning back toward the door. “I'm going to head back to the cats.”

As much as you hated the thought of him leaving, there was nothing more to say. His world was racing, and you knew how important this opportunity was for him. Stan and the rest of the cats would be wondering where you are by now, and you began to tell yourself it was better not to linger.

Your hand was on the door handle when you heard his voice, quiet but insistent.

“Wait.”

You stopped, heart skipping a beat, and turned back toward him. He was standing in the middle of the room, his brows slightly furrowed, as if debating something with himself. His eyes met yours, searching for a moment, and then he took a step toward you.

“Don’t go yet,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Something shifted in the air between you, the tension tightening around the words you hadn’t spoken. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he closed the space between you. His hand reaching out, brushing against your arm, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

“Lo…” you started, your voice catching in your throat, but the look in his eyes made your heart race. There was no need for words now. You’d shared so many moments, so many small, unspoken things, and suddenly it all felt like it had been leading to this.

He leaned in, and everything else fell away—the packed bags, the uncertainty, the days apart that lay ahead. His lips met yours gently at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then something deeper took over, the kiss becoming more sure, more real.

You sank into it, your hands instinctively finding his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as if to hold on to him, to this moment. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing softly along your cheek, anchoring you to him in a way that felt both overwhelming and perfect.

The kiss deepened, the world narrowing to just the two of you. It was everything you didn’t realise you’d been waiting for—his closeness, the feel of him, the quiet intensity in the way he pulled you toward him as if he was afraid to let go.

When you finally parted, you were both breathless, standing there in the stillness of his apartment. Your forehead resting against his, the shared warmth between you a quiet comfort. Neither of you spoke right away, but the weight of what just happened lingered in the air, filling the silence with unspoken promises.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Logan finally said, his voice rough, almost a confession. He still hadn’t let go of you, his hand sliding from your cheek to your shoulder, as if grounding himself in the moment.

You let out a shaky laugh, your own hands still resting against his chest. “I’m glad you did.”

He smiled then, that soft, crooked smile that had always made your heart skip a beat. “I really am going to miss you.”

Your chest tightens at the words, but this time, there was a new kind of warmth behind them. It was no longer just a casual statement—it was filled with meaning, with everything that passed between you in that kiss.

“I’ll miss you too,” you whispered, your voice soft as you leaned into him again, the closeness between you now something tangible and real.

For a moment, neither of you moved, standing there in the middle of his apartment, lost in this bubble you’d created. But then you heard the faint sound of probably Stan scratching at the door across the hall, and it brought you back to reality, reminding you of the world outside.

“I should go,” you said reluctantly, your forehead still pressed against his, though now you were reluctant to pull away.

Logan nodded, his thumb brushing your skin one last time before he stepped back. “I know.”

You moved toward the door, this time with a weight in your chest that felt different—full of things you still wanted to say, but that could wait for another time. You glanced back at him one last time, his eyes following you, filled with the same mixture of emotions you felt.

“Good luck,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the doorknob. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, and the sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart.

ynalbon

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, lilymhe and 32,382 others

missing my cookie (also looky says hi)

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userone: NO SHES IN A RELATIONSHIP KILL ME NOW AND MAKE IT QUICK

usertwo: there goes my chance

userthree: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T LET IT BE SOME MEDICORE BORING MAN PLEASE GOD PLEASE

userfour: we lost her ☹️☹️

alex_albon: i think you have something to tell me

lilymhe: i think you have something to tell US

ynalbon: oh wont you look at that, looky has started cooking dinner, need to go help out!

userfive: now who the heck is cookie

usersix: i think i know what’s happening 🤭🤭

logansargeant: that’s one grumpy ass cat

alex_albon: watch how you talk to my kid

ynalbon: yeah watch how you talk to my nephew

alex_albon: i thought you needed to go help looky cook?

ynalbon: 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

userseven: FUCK I THOUGHT SHE WAS FOR THE GIRLIES NOO

alex's apartment autumn break

Walking into your Alex’s apartment, you were greeted by the familiar scent of coffee and the quiet hum of an afternoon sports program playing in the background. Stan padded over to you, meowing as you bent down to give him a quick scratch behind the ears.

“I’m just grabbing my jacket,” you called out, heading toward the living room where Alex was sprawled on the couch, watching something about Premier League Football.

He glanced up from his phone, half-focused on the screen and half on you. “Sure, no rush.”

You pulled open the closet door and rummaged around for the jacket you left here the other night, the one you’d forgotten in the rush to go pick up said brother from the airport because “he was too tired to drive home”. As you tugged it off the hanger, Alex’s voice cut through the silence, casually.

“I’m heading to America next week to support Logan during his testing,” he said, almost offhandedly. “Thought I’d ask if you wanted to come with me.”

Your movements stilled for a moment as his words sank in. You tried to act nonchalant, but your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Logan—memories of your last night with him flooding back in an instant. That kiss. The way he’d held you like he didn’t want to let go. The late night facetime calls and watch parties held.

You pulled your jacket out of the wardrobe and closed the door slowly, turning to face Alex. “Why would I want to go?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, maybe a little too casual.

He didn’t even look up from his phone, but you could see the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Come on, I’m not stupid,” he said, finally glancing up at you, eyebrow raised.

Your stomach flipped, and you quickly dropped your gaze, hoping your face didn’t betray the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He rolled his eyes, sitting up a little straighter on the couch. “You really think I haven’t noticed? The way you and Logan have been on those little secret calls? The way you light up when his name comes up?” He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable he was making you. “I’m your brother. It’s kind of my job to notice.”

You bit your lip, feeling caught and not quite sure how to deflect. “We’re just… friends,” you mumbled, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

He raised his eyebrows, clearly not buying it. “Right. Just friends who happen to pop into each other’s apartments all the time. And who bake each other baked goods. And who look at each other like…” He trailed off, smirking again, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“Okay, okay, stop,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break through. When you peeked up at him, he was still watching you with that knowing look.

“So?” he asked, clearly waiting for you to admit what he already knew.

You sighed, dropping your hands. “Fine. Yes. I’ll go with you.”

Alex grinned, triumphant. “I knew it.”

You grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it at him, but he just laughed, catching it effortlessly. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warned, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It'd been at least a week since Logan left for America, and even though you’d kept yourself busy, you’d missed him more than you care to admit. The idea of seeing him again, of surprising him there, made your heart race in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I won’t,” Alex said, though the twinkle in his eye suggested he wasn’t not entirely telling the truth. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “It’ll be fun. Besides, I’m sure Logan will be glad to see you.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but inside you were already imagining what it would be like to see Logan again. “Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, heading toward the door. “Let me know when we’re leaving.”

As you turned the handle, Alex called out after you, voice teasing. “Don’t forget to pack something cute!”

You threw him a glare over your shoulder, but the door was already swinging shut behind you, and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you headed back to your place, thoughts of Logan filling your mind.

By Friday you were in the hot American Sun. The hum of engines and the low chatter of mechanics surrounded you as you step onto the pit lane at the American track, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over everything. The sound and energy of the place were both exciting and overwhelming, but all you could think about was finding him.

Alex walked a few steps ahead, already scanning the area for new faces, but your eyes darted around, searching for Logan. The journey here had been long, full of anticipation, and now that you were so close, your heartbeat a little faster, eager for the moment you’d been waiting for.

And then, you spotted him.

Logan was standing near one of the garages, his back to you at first, talking to a few team members. He was wearing his racing suit, the top half unzipped and hanging around his waist, revealing a fitted t-shirt beneath. You froze for a second, just taking him in, that familiar rush of emotions surging through you.

He must have felt your gaze because suddenly he turned around, his eyes sweeping across the pit lane—until they landed on you. His face lit up instantly, and before you could even think, your feet were moving.

You broke into a run, dodging past a few crew members and weaving between equipment, Alex forgotten behind you. Logan’s grin widened as he stepped forward, bracing himself as you closed the distance. When you reached him, you threw your arms around his neck, and in one swift, effortless motion, he caught you, lifting you off the ground.

You laughed, the sound light and free, as he spun you around, the world momentarily disappearing in the rush of joy and adrenaline. His hands were firm on your waist, holding you close, and when he finally set you back on your feet, neither of you could stop smiling.

Before you could say a word, he pulled you in, his lips found yours in a kiss that was both urgent and tender. It was a kiss that made the long days apart disappear, one that said everything you’d both been holding onto since he left. The noise of the track faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment.

But then, from somewhere behind you, you heard a not-so-subtle clearing of the throat.

You pulled back from Logan, cheeks flushed, and glanced over your shoulder to see Alex standing there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised in a way that was both amused and exasperated. Logan looked over too, blinking like he’d just come back to reality.

“Sorry,” Logan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, his usual confidence slipping for just a second.

Alex shook his head but walked forward with a grin. “Nah, man, you’re good,” he said, clapping Logan on the shoulder in a way that was more approving than anything else. “Just… maybe keep the PDA down when I’m around, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning too, feeling the warmth of Logan’s arm still around you. “I’ll try to keep him under control,” you said, shooting your brother a teasing look.

“Good luck with that,” your brother muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two for a bit. Want to see what this Indy Racing is all about.” He waved lazily and headed off toward the paddock, giving you and Logan some space.

As he disappeared into the crowd, Logan turned back to you, his grin returning, though there was a slight blush colouring his cheeks. “So… surprise?”

You laughed, standing on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, I’d say you’re surprised.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, pulling you closer, his voice softer now that the moment had quieted down. “It’s been��� weird without you.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted, resting your head against his chest for a moment, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear comforting. “And besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun over here without me.”

He chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “I’m about to test, but maybe you could go sit in the tent over there with the other girlfriends?”

You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “The other girlfriends?”

Logan smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t play coy, you were mine the minute you kissed me back in my apartment.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Damn maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you back then.”

He smirked, that familiar glint in his eye. “Don’t be stupid now. Come on cookie, let’s go over to the tent, I want to introduce my cool and sexy girlfriend.”

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, ynalbon, lilymhe and 985,342 others

got the best fan ever

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userone: oh my god

usertwo: i just fell to my knees in the middle of walmart parking lot

userthree: at least our logan is happy

alex_albon: yuck

logansargeant: hater

userfour: that's alex's sister omg

userfive: what in the fanfiction

usersix: is that alex's sister? how did that happen?

logansargeant: she texted me after the news and then dropped off some "feel better soon" cookies and it's pretty much been history since then, i'm a lucky guy😊😊

usersix: oh my god i'm sick

ynalbon: this was not on my 2024 bingocard btw

logansargeant: its' been on mine since 2022

userseven: OH MY GOD THEY'RE SO CUTE

ynalbon

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe and 334,236 others

no longer just a formula one sister, im now an indy wag 🤭

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userone: WE LOST HER SOLDIERS

usertwo: if i see one more picture of them baking, i'm kissing my gun

userthree: most unexpected couple of 2024

alex_albon: who tf is going to look after my cats?

ynalbon: bring them to america

alex_albon: how about no?

ynalbon: hater much?

userfour: this is too cute

userfive: thank you for looking after logan for us

lilymhe: ignore the haters babe, you two are very cute (@/alex_albon)

ynalbon: yes ma'am

alex_albon: ARE YOU CALLING MY EX TEAMMATE CUTE?!

usersix: i was mourning the loss of aa23 and ls2 but yn has solved all my issues

logansargeant: 🍪🤍

the end.

[turanga4]

For @hinnymicrofic Prompt 22: Grief

<it's not the Saddest Most Sad, promise promise>

Read on ao3 or above and below the cut. 400 words exactly and I'll pretend that was on purpose.

Harry leaned back in the wicker chair, savoring the tickling breeze from the Flutterby bush at his side.  Ginny paused mid bounce and Al scrunched his nose in protest. 

“James all right, then?”

“More than all right. He’s having a grand time. He’ll let us all know when he wants to open presents, and I reckon you and I can relax until then.” Harry’s eyes traveled to James, who now appeared to be directing three different adults to join the Egg and Spoon Race along with the kids. 

He smiled at Ginny. “It is his party. Might be the first one he can decently remember.  No need for him to remember when his parents ruined his fun.” 

“The world is his party,” Ginny responded. 

She was looking from her son to him, something soft and raw in her gaze.  Almost…grief.

“Hey, Gin. What is it?”

“The way James is…he got those things from both of us. That’s what they say, right? How he is with people. How he’s headstrong and a bit stupid and confident and brave.” Harry opened his mouth before she finished the sentence: Ginny shut him down with an impatient, raised hand. “He’s only been around people who adore him, and he loves just so easily.  He’s got the spirit you have, except his…was never broken.” 

“I’m sorry,” she added, swiping her eyes with Al’s Snitch-patterned blanket. “It must be the pregnancy hormones or something.” She looked over to James again, and then back at him. “No, fuck that. You should feel it too, Harry. The life that we’re giving him, giving all of them…it should have been yours.”

He had felt it, perhaps a dozen times, the aching sweetness folded in with, set on top of, the pure pain. How vulnerable his babies were, how much they deserved.  Countless laps to sit in, infinite stories to be told and told again.  Soft new clothes, light-filled bedrooms, kisses dropped on scraped knees. There was something like healing in the anger that he felt sometimes—that he could finally see himself as worthy of such things.

One day, he would tell her. But not during a birthday party.  Not here, at the Burrow, when his first son was turning four. 

He stood up, kissed her forehead, and then ruffled Al’s hair, before moving to stop James from riding Lee’s new dog. “It’s mine now.”

[mayhemhq]

here is a fuller explanation of this weekend’s event, september 14th-15th in las vegas, nv!

first things first:

remember: pregnancies and elopements, etc, are allowed but must be approved first. do not use this trip to spring something like this without it being mentioned to us first. we’re generally okay with most things, but we don’t want 20 things happening at once. if you do any of this without approval, you will be removed.

drama is allowed and encouraged somewhat, but don’t make the trip miserable. do not make someone dramatically leave as that’s silly. we’re ALL adults and this is for fun. just be considerate and talk out any drama that can impact a significant number of individuals.

this is not just a trip for friends and lovers; this is a trip for the group and to build community. make sure you’re not staying within your ship and your friends circle this trip. use this as an opportunity to reach out and have fun with everyone.

mayhem on the strip is a charity event featuring a small convention and a game show featuring ALL of our talent competing in field day-esque activities for charity.

there will be a five-hour convention of sorts, featuring booths and photo-ops for not only wrestlers, but all of our original characters, too. then, all talent will take a break - have lunch, gather their teams to begin the games.

the games:

dodge ball: two teams of 8 players each battle it out on a court divided by a central line, with dodgeballs scattered in the middle. the objective is simple yet thrilling eliminate opponents by hitting them with the balls while evading throws from the other team. players must utilize agility, strategic throwing, and dodging skills to stay in the game. caught throws not only eliminate the thrower but also allow a teammate to rejoin the action. the game continues until one team has successfully eliminated all members of the opposing team. (8 people per team)

obstacle course: the course includes a range of exciting stations, such as towering climbing walls, muddy crawls, and precision balance beams. teams will also navigate rope swings, cargo nets, and tunnel crawls. for the final challenge, teams must solve a puzzle to reveal a golden baton, which they then carry to the end of the course. the race concludes with a high-stakes relay, where all team members must cross the finish line together. (8 people per team)

wet sweatpants relay: each player must dunk the sweatpants in a bucket of water, put them on, and take them off to pass to the next player in line. the next player repeats the process. (6 people per team)

egg and spoon race: two members from each team lining up side-by-side. each person balances an egg on a spoon and races to see which team can get all their members across the finish line first. if you drop the egg, you must return to the starting line and try again. the race continues until one team successfully gets all its members to the other side. (6 people per team)

zorb ball relay: one member at a time climbs into the zorb ball and is guided by their teammate through a demanding obstacle course with cones, ramps, and turns. after completing their lap, they tag the next teammate, who then takes their turn in the zorb ball. (6 people, 2 per team per turn which will be 3 tag in turns)

pit pursuit: the game kicks off with teams racing towards a 20ft x 20ft ball pit, just 6 inches deep and brimming with thousands of colorful balls. teams dive into the sea of balls, searching for hidden objects, each carrying a unique point value. with a 15-minute timer counting down, they scramble to collect as many objects as they can. but watch out for the “whammy” objects—they’ll deduct points from your score if you grab them! (6 people per team, each team going in 2 different rounds - not at the same time)

it will be a best out of six games, the winning team not only getting a trophy, but a large donation to their charity of choice. the losing team will also get a donation to their charity as well, as we’re not completely heartless.

** if this event turns out to be a hit and everyone has a great time, we’ll continue with more “mayhem on…” events to keep the rivalry alive and determine who will get to keep the trophy!

about the teams: aew will take all the japan based wrestlers (ddt pro, njpw, etc) while wwe will take all tna wrestlers. all ocs working for those companies as well will be on the team they work for. those of you ocs with no allegiances get to pick the team you’d like to be on out of the two. speak to those team captains!

the “home” hotel will be the venetian, that’s where everyone will have rooms and be staying for safety purposes. you can share or have your own, that’s totally up to you. the convention and also games will be done at a different hotel - the plaza hotel in different spots.

on sunday, it’s a completely free day for you to do whatever your heart’s content. however, sunday night around 8pm est will be a casino masquerade ball on the venetian casino floor to celebrate the ending of the event and a good send off for us all.

you are encouraged to wear elaborate masks, whether they’re classic venetian styles or more modern interpretations. all guests should dress in formal, black-tie attire. think classic tuxedos, stylish suits or dress shirts, and glamorous gowns, complemented with sophisticated accessories such as elegant gloves, glasses, and statement jewelry.

remember: canonically, this event will last two days, but in real time, you’ll be able to post about it for a week with the proper tag #m.event (mayhem on the strip). we will post the cutoff date when the trip starts.

[mayhemevents]

it’s time for: GAME ONE! … egg & spoon race.

remember this happened 4pt time canon-wise. we’re doing this to carry on and show winners and give context and allow you guys to banter back and forth. remember, you can do this now or after your games… this is just the write ups. PLEASE dm us if you would like to have your character do something funny or whatnot during the games they’re in to cause them nearly to win or lose, please. just know these games are going to be… intense. 👀 in a fun way! next game is in 30 mins.

participating for team wwevengers is… @fuckinjaded @beckyquin @notuceyjuicy @dupriis @rollinsrevolution @captkotas

participating for team sick freaks is… @smileinspite, @poppindawgs @omegaweapons @ratedrcope @lexnair @thewrestlerx

...good luck! remember… don’t break an egg!

after a valiant race and close race, team wwevengers took this game! even with @rollinsrevolution dropping the egg, he managed to get back in the game after some brief coaching from @itsroxyp (we heard some yelling and encouraging words) and a hug from @bitws — we love teamwork. 😉

[fellshish]

For the first kiss asks - strap TF in!

I had just started at a new high school two months prior and I knew this boy because we caught the same bus from our village into town for school, and we hung out with the same people at lunch.

There was a fair happening in the village for Waitangi day (a public holiday, so we had the day off) so this guy was like "let's meet up and go together". We walked around the village and went to the fair, then we walked into the bandstand to watch some of the silly games being played (egg and spoon race, three legged race etc). The bandstand was facing the field where everything was happening, but was shielded from the main crowd by tents and marquees and things. At least that's what we thought.... So this dude kisses me (like full on make out sense) and all I can remember is the guy announcing the races saying into the mic "oh my god who is that?"

We break apart eventually, walk a bit more, make out a bit more in another place, and then we go and find my family who've been at the fair. He says goodbye and says he'll text me. My grandad was staying with us at the time and must have seen everything bevause he said "is that your boyfriend" "I guess?" "Well, just kissing you know. Nothing else" Doubly mortifying 😬

As an extra detail, the guy "dumped me" (don't know if we were ever actually dating) because he said I was "too weird"

SCREAM. Guy announcing the races:

[lacrymatoryao3]

Redemption Was Just The Beginning

Chapter 8: New Years Day, 1900

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7]

To the world, Arthur Morgan is dead. As he tries to face the idea, in a lush valley in Ambarino he comes face to face with a woman from his past, and they must reckon with an era long gone. Especially when she has secrets of her own.

(Rated explicit simply because eventually there’s smut in this.)

Tag: @photo1030

1,824 Words (AO3 Link)

It seemed like only one of Ana’s dreams. One of the fleeting moments where she could be against him. His chest rose and fell calmly, the occasional snore or mutter from whatever he himself was conjuring up in his own mind. His heartbeat was strong and steady. She could feel his large hand on her shoulder, his thumb stroking at the fabric of her dress. It was too cruel of life for her to wake from it, in her big bed by herself.

It was such a pretty dream…

She opened her eyes with an agonized groan, from being ripped away from the imaginary version of him and the pounding headache from her overindulgence from the party. She rolled onto her back, squeezing between her eyes for a moment of relief from the pain.

She awoke Arthur in the process, snapping him into reality feeling every human emotion at once. He blinked a few times, finding her trying to fend off the worst of hangovers to minimally function. An all to familiar experience.

He scratched at the stubble on his jaw, “Mornin’.”

Ana’s eyes widened in surprise, snapping to his groggy face. It hadn’t been just a dream, and given how things went the night before a panic shot through her that made her temporarily forget her suffering. She shot up, nearly falling out of the bed from how sudden she lurched away from him.

“W-what happened here?” She cried, her pulse racing in terror. As much as she desired it, losing herself in that way when so heavily inebriated was a fear worse than injury or death.

“Nothin’.” Arthur replied sedately, “You know I wouldn’t do anythin’ like that. Especially with how drunk you was. Would’ve been wrong.”

Ana sighed in relief, falling back onto the pillows. It took some of the fright away, “So… How did we end up like this, exactly?”

It wasn’t a shock to Arthur that she didn’t remember much, or anything. He didn’t know how to explain everything that happened, but he also felt like she was owed it, “You asked me to stay with you.”

“You didn’t have to. You could have gone when I fell asleep.”

“You were in a bad way by the time we got back. I didn’t feel right just dumping you and leaving you.”

Ana laid there rubbing her forehead. She regretted not making a pot of menudo the previous night for breakfast. She sighed, unable to to feel too sorry for herself. Her body felt like it was made of lead, using the little energy she had to try to roll out of bed.

Arthur caught her by the shoulders, pushing her back down, “Oh no you don’t. You rest for once. I’ll take care of breakfast and get you something to help.”

Ana wanted to protest. She wasn’t fragile. She had toughed out more than a bad case of alcohol withdrawal, but she knew how he was. She instructed him where things were, especially the medicines she kept in the kitchen cabinet. She screwed her eyes shut, letting her body float around around without moving. It made Arthur comfortable enough to gather his clothes and leave the room.

He made quick work of taking care of himself, getting dressed in his own room. He caught his reflection in the mirror of his shaving station, about to open his mouth to criticize his appearance like he often did before stopping and shaking his head. There was no time for that. He went to the kitchen and gathered the remedies for Ana to feel better. He took a tea spoon and a glass. He grabbed a bottle of Doc Crockett’s Miracle Tonic and a bottle of medical bitters. He placed them onto a tray and set the glass on the counter. He cracked an egg in his hands over the waste basket, removing the slimy whites from the yolk and gently sliding it into the glass so it didn’t break. He added to it a few dashes of hot sauce and Worcestershire sauce with a pinch of salt and pepper.

He brought them up to her before going back to the kitchen to figure out what he was going to do. Living outside most of his life, usually having someone do the cooking for him and if they weren’t around only roasting a random and crudely cut of meat from whatever animal he killed, wasn’t conducive to working in a kitchen alone. He knew how to make black coffee. He had eggs, scrambling them wouldn’t be too hard. He could easily open one of the cans of strawberries. There was some bread rolls and a block of cheese on the counter in a basket. Going into the ice box he produced some bacon he could fry.

The next challenge came with the stove. He opened every hatch and lifted every lid he could to figure it out. He had no idea where to put wood, or how to light it. It probably took a long time to warm up to do anything. He got frustrated about it quickly, taking his ingredients and tools into the living room. He sat in front of the fireplace, stoking it and adding new wood to it until the flames began to crackle brightly. He cooked eight pieces of bacon first, holding the pan above the fire and flipping them every minute or so until they were crispy but not burnt. He used the grease they produced to scramble up four of the eggs. He put them on a serving platter to cool while he prepared the coffee.

“I knew I should have told you how to get the range going.” He heard Ana’s voice announced beside him. He looked towards her. She had rallied and gotten dressed, though her face was still a bit haggard and exhausted.

“I must admit though,” She added, “I do admire your ingenuity.”

Ana helped him carry things back to the kitchen, instructing him for the future how the stove worked. They sat down an ate together, both thinking it nice to have time alone for once. They made idle conversation. She praised him for what he did, to which Arthur replied with a remark about how if she kept feeding him like she did he would need pants with a larger waist. She admitted she didn’t think that was at all a bad thing, believing he could benefit from putting on more weight. She remembered how old he was, 36 and going to be 37 at some point in July. She was 32, reminding him she was turning 33 in February though she didn’t want any big to do about it. It felt almost like old times, when they’d be sent away on some lead together. The money was nice, but the time spent talking and laughing freely was – at least for Ana – the favorite part of being away from the others. For the moment, they saw each other as they once were again.

“I got to ask, Anie.” Arthur said cleaning up the mess he made, “Did you mean all those things you said last night?”

She sipped her third cup of coffee, the inquisitiveness in her tone told him she had no memory of it, “Depends on what I said. You know how much of a fool I am when I’ve been drinking.”

Arthur smiled and nodded. There was a time at camp when they all had been drunk off some cheap spirit they stole off a stagecoach. Somehow Ana’s attention turned to Dutch. She slurred something along the lines he’d have been much happier if he had been born a woman, and was someone’s well kept wife. Everyone else thought it was hilarious, though Dutch himself was fuming. He avoided her for a good part of a week, if he needed to tell her anything he either sent Arthur, Hosea, or Susan to relay it.

He took a deep breath, going quieter as he said it, “That… That you’re still… In love with me.”

Ana paused, setting her cup on the table, “Of course I am. I always have been, likely always will be. The happiest moments in my life were with you. You gave to me one of the best things in the world, and that’s my… Our… Little boy. He’s always been like you.”

She got up and went to the sink, placing her hand on his shoulder. It seemed so tiny on his broad body, “What else did I confide?”

“You made a mention about Mary.” he replied.

Ana hummed seriously, “Did I? She had always been in the back of my mind, I suppose. Make no mistake, I do not hate Mary. I never had anything against her, she was a very nice woman. I wished it worked for you two. Like I said before I’m willing to-”

“That part of my life is long over.” Arthur interrupted, “It didn’t work, and it’s best if I put that behind me. Don’t worry about her… Please.”

He wasn’t sure if she believed him, but she didn’t bring it up the rest of the morning. She perked up considerably by the time they were ready to bring Arthur Francisco back home. The apartment the Liangs lived in was at the very top of the inn, making them go up two flights of stairs to get to their door. They were greeted by Mrs. Liang, who welcomed them inside with her usual warm hospitality. Everything was a mixture of the familiar and Oriental, from scrolls with dragons and Chinese writing to hand painted calligraphy. The children sat at a low table on cushions, using sharp knives to slice patterns into blood red paper.

Ana and Arthur joined Mr. Liang at another table. Mrs. Liang joined them carrying a tea set smaller than the Western ones, made of well sculpted clay and glazed to take on the pale green shine of jade. She poured a dark roasted Oolong tea into the handleless cups for them to drink with some dried Mandarin orange slices. They chatted casually until the tea was gone and the children finished the little projects they had taken on. Arthur Francisco presented his to Ana, a simple cutting resembling the petals of a lotus flower.

Both Ana and Arthur Francisco thanked the Liangs for letting him spend the night profusely before they started their return to their own home. The boy talked about everything he did while there on the way. Though the hangover was still making her miserable she didn’t let on around her son, still being the same supportive force. As Arthur followed behind them, he was reminded of the few memories he had of his own mother. It came with a sudden longing, a desire to wholly belong within what he was being offered.

Maybe Arthur did have a future, but he needed to fight hard for the one he wanted.

[cherrycola27]

HAPPY 1.6k!🥳

I’m in need of a little RWn’R so…….

Prez Bradley totally starts dancing to the music at some important event and Wise-woman is not happy with him

Cass, I love this idea. I feel like early in their marriage something like this would occur:

Turkey Trot:

Bradley enjoyed being president. He really did, but not all parts of the job were quiet as glamorous as the ceremonial holiday events. They were his favorite part.

Christmas tree lighting? Egg rolls? Wreath laying? Sign him up.

It was a crisp November morning in D.C., and Bradley was excited for his first presidential turkey pardoning ceremony.

He and his new wife, God, that was still something he had to get used to, had spent the morning getting ready for the event. Bradley was so excited all morning. He couldn't wait to do this.

"Bradley, remember, we mingle, then it's a quick speech, a few photos, and we are done. Please don't be extra with this." You warned him as the two of you prepared for the event.

"Me? Extra? Never." He said sarcastically as you rolled your eyes. The two of you made your way outside. Hundreds of people were gathered around, snacks were being served, and music was playing across the lawn.

Bradley couldn't help but tap his foot and nod his head along to the beat as the two of you spoke to some on lookers. You gave his side a subtle but firm pinch to get his attention. "Dear, you are not in the privacy of your own living quarters right now, you cannot break out into a dance routine." You quietly reminded him while smiling for the cameras.

Bradley tried to reel it in and remain professional, but he just couldn't help it. He'd always loved music, and he'd always been a ham. It was who he was.

When it was finally time to pardon the turkey, Bradley full on strutted like a peacock, or rooster, in his case up to the podium. You followed behind him politely as he bobbed along to the beat before the music and crowd died down.

After pardoning the massive turkey, you and Bradley made a few more rounds, all while he was still a one man dance party. "Bradley, stop, you're going to embarrass yourself." You tried to remind him, but he didn't care. The media was eating it up, and you knew he'd be going viral later. You tried to remind yourself that damage control was no longer your job, but it was hard to let go.

After the ceremony was over, you stormed inside. "I can't believe you made a fool of yourself out there!" You huff at him. "What do you mean? I was just having fun, everyone loved it!" He defends himself.

"Ugh! You don't get it, do you?" You groan in frustration. "You are the president! You job isn't supposed to be fun! Any time you do something like you did today and 'have fun' creates a PR nightmare." You tell him. "What do you mean?" He asks you.

"The Egg Roll." You state. Bradley looks at you confused. "When you decide to do the spoon race with no hands? Do you know how much I had to have scrubbed from the internet because you put a spoon in your mouth and ran across a field?" You tell him.

"All the press from that was fun and light-hearted." Bradley tells you. "Yeah, because I made it that way. You should have seen some of the edits before I took care of them. And now? Who knows if Warner is competent enough to handle today's events." You sigh before sitting down.

Bradley comes to sit beside you. He tries to put an arm around you, but you jerk away.

"I'm sorry." He tells you. "I never realized just how much you did for me. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you today. I'll work on that." He states.

You sigh. "I'm sorry too. I know you've always been a cut-up and a goofball. It's the reason why people like you. I need to be more aware of the fact that my job isn't to clean up after you anymore, but to support you. Even if you do, make yourself look like a fool." Both of you laugh.

"It looks like we both have some learning to do." Bradley states.

The next day, you're prepared for the worst, but instead, the media outlets are filled with posts about Bradley's energetic personality and calling him the most relatable president yet.

Sure, you'd found a few not so nice comments, but for now, that was okay. Maybe you could work on embracing who he was, instead of trying to change him.

tagging some of the President Bradshaw cabinet: @roosterscock @thedroneranger @gretagerwigsmuse @desert-fern @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @lovinglyeternal @lovingbradshawafterdark @wkndwlff @shanimallina87 @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby

[hold-him-down]

Leo eating ice cream👀🫶

Leo sits in the center of his bed, his legs folded under him, flipping through the pages of his spiral-bound notebook. 

Its contents, Leo thinks, are his most valuable possession. Every rule, every half-rule, all the suggestions that he remembers Luke telling him fill the first pages. When it was clear that Luke was becoming more careful about creating rules, it became a place to write the things that he did that he thought made Luke happy, and the things he did that upset him. 

Every night, Leo looks through it to try to find patterns. To try to figure out whatever missing pieces he can. Luke knows that this notebook exists, but Leo isn’t sure if he’s looked through it yet. 

He flips to the first blank page and writes a ‘one.’

If you do well, I’ll sneak you a treat, Handler Young says. 

Luke seemed happy that I suggested eggs for breakfast. He writes a ‘two.’

The lights went out an hour ago, but he did well, and his handler told him not to fall asleep.

Luke smiled when I won the game. He writes a ‘three.’

He hears the lock click and his eyes snap open. Had he fallen asleep? He feels the handler’s weight on the mattress before his eyes have adjusted to the dark. He doesn’t know what he’ll be told to do, but he’ll do it. He doesn’t want a fucking treat, he just wants to sleep. How long has it been since he’s slept?

Leo continues writing his list, this small, ridiculous, silly thing that he cherishes. He knows it’s childish, and he knows it could get him in trouble, but it gives him some false sense of control over something he knows he has so little control over. And so he cherishes it.

“Easy,” Handler Young says, his hand sliding under Leo’s shirt. Leo controls his breathing, he doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t do anything other than let out a breathy gasp and close his eyes. It’ll be over, and the handler will let him sleep. 

When he finishes with him, he whispers, “You did so good today.” 

Leo swallows. It’s dark enough that the handler can’t see his face, but still, he’s careful to keep it neutral. “You did so good today,” the handler repeats, kissing him once on his forehead before standing. He sets something on the table beside Leo’s bed. 

The unspoken command is to accept it, even as the handler exits his room without another word. After the lock clicks, Leo picks up the item. 

It’s some kind of cookie, he thinks, but he can’t see it. He nibbles on it, letting the taste sit on his tongue, covering the lingering aftertaste that feels like it never quite goes away. 

Leo doesn’t cry that night as he eats the cookie. Instead, he focuses on what went right, commits the day to memory, promises himself he’ll do well again tomorrow.

With a deep breath, Leo closes the notebook. He stands and makes his way to the hall, where the lights are all out. He knows Luke is asleep, and so he’s particularly careful in his movements. It feels sneaky, even with Luke’s explicit permission.

The house is pitch black, but he easily maneuvers down the stairs, across the living room, into the little kitchenette. He opens the freezer and finds the pint of ice cream that Luke bought him two weeks ago. It hasn’t been touched since the last time he came down here, honoring some perverse reward system that he’s set up with himself. 

His heart races. 

He did well today. Luke bought this for him. Luke wants him to eat it. Luke told him it was okay. Luke meant it, and will not punish him for doing the thing that he has asked him to do.

He unscrews the cap and the ice cream is just as he left it three days ago, a perfect cylinder missing two spoonfuls. He digs out a third. 

Leo doesn’t really like sweets. He’s never been one to seek out chocolates or candies or cookies or pies or pastries. He isn’t sure what it is about this ice cream in this freezer in this man’s house that makes his heart race, but it does. Luke bought this for him, he picked it out for him, after Leo made some off-hand comment about his favorite ice cream as a child. It means something, he thinks. He takes a breath.

The flavor hits his tongue and he closes his eyes, letting it melt in his mouth. It doesn’t last nearly long enough, gone within a matter of seconds, but it’s okay. He’ll have more good days, and Luke will not tire of him. He smiles, as the last of the flavor dissipates.

He closes the container and puts it back in the freezer, he washes his spoon and puts it back in the drawer, and he quietly makes his way back to his bedroom, where he opens his notebook once more.

It was a good day, he writes. I’m going to be okay.

@whump-cravings, @afabulousmrtake, @crystalquartzwhump, @maracujatangerine, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @distinctlywhumpthing, @thecyrulik, @highwaywhump, @batfacedliar-yetagain, @finder-of-rings, @dont-touch-my-soup, @skyhawkwolf, @suspicious-whumping-egg, @also-finder-of-rings, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @prodigal-zoe, @peachy-panic, @melancholy-in-the-morning, @urban-dark, @nicolepascaline, @quietly-by-myself, @pigeonwhumps, @whump-blog,  @seasaltandcopper, @angstyaches, @i-msonotcreative, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @anonintrovert, @whump-world, @squishablesunbeam, @considerablecolors, @whumpcereal, @whumperfully, 

[guardianreadersofthegalaxy]

I actually went to primary school with Sophie Ablett, who played Marti in 73 Yards. My mum doesn't like her cos she says she cheated at the egg and spoon race on sports day. I don't remember whether or not this is true

[ace-the-fox]

Day 2, baby!! This one is my fave so far...

Day 2: Sun and Moon

The moon had always suited Andrew well.

Frank and Andrew would have near frequent sleepovers at the ages of about twelve to thirteen, alternating from each other's houses. Typically one of them would bring a sleeping bag to sleep in in the other one's room while they, obviously, had their own bed. Yet, one night in Andrew's family mansion, Frank had forgotten his and, after a whole half hour of debating phoning Frank's mother at near midnight, Frank had said two firm words: "Budge over."

And, with a teasing huff, Andrew did. So, there they were, both snuggled up in Andrew's bed, giggling like five year-olds.

Andrew fell asleep a lot quicker than Frank did, somehow. And Frank found it a lot harder to sleep that night. Andrew was, somehow, such a pretty sleeper. Even with the glistening of drool on his pillow, or his gentle snores. He'd somehow made them endearing rather than irritating. His dark hair scattered over his admittedly very pretty face. And the moon shone through that massive window he had in his room, making his pale skin glow with an almost otherworldly light. Like some fallen angel or romanticised, Twilight-esque vampire.

(If Frank remembered correctly, Andrew's dad had found them like that the next morning. He'd probably given Andrew an earful about it, even after it had been explained that there was nothing going on between them, but neither of them seemed to care.)

The sun, Andrew found, did Frank equal wonders.

Appleton, without fail, organised a sports day every summer. Usually, Andrew just did a run for it. He had never been particularly athletically driven, but he'd been running since starting at Appleton (since sports was one of the many topics they strongly encouraged students to excel in). Frank on the other hand... Frank knew little bounds.

Well, he had some limits for his own general health and safety, but he still signed himself up for any small activity under the sun. Tug-of-war, three legged race, egg and spoon. You name it, Frank was doing it. And, elementary as the events seemed, doing so many of them in a few hours often left Frank a sweaty mess afterward.

One year had been particularly sunny. Andrew had finished his short run half an hour ago, and was now half-watching Frank do whatever it was now and half-doing homework on the sunny field. It was Frank's last activity, and he was certainly done for the afternoon. He strode on over to Andrew, stood over him, and Andrew looked up...

Frank was laughing in exhaustion, with one of his usual bright, cheery smiles that had always made Andrew feel funny, but he'd never been able to put a finger on why until just then. He was dripping with sweat, so that his clothes clung to him... awfully tightly. His face was a pretty shade of pink, concentrated on his soft cheek bones. And the sun shone down on him like a spotlight, highlighting his half-undone blonde hair beautifully as it landed in his hazel eyes...

(It took Andrew an embarrassing amount of time to actually hear Frank's request for one of his water bottles.)

A week after the two had actually started dating during their last year at Appleton, there had been a solar eclipse. Frank had bought them both those sunglasses you needed to see it and had asked Andrew to see it with him as an impromptu date. And how could Andrew possibly say no?

So, there they were, sat on a blanket in some park amongst a spread out crowd. Just waiting for the big event. Andrew wasn't too keen on public PDA between him and Frank, or even private PDA. He did really want to outwardly show his love for Frank. He really, really did. But it always felt like his father was just waiting around a corner, on the ready to catch them. Andrew had never been quite sure if the man would have minded the act itself, or would protest solely because of the family's reputation, but it didn't matter much either way. The reaction would be more or less the same.

And yet, as the moon crossed over the sun and Andrew glanced over to see Frank with that stupidly adorable grin on his face, he couldn't help but feel a sudden real raw sting of affection. More powerful than any other in his years of pining for the boy. Maybe there was truly something magic in the moment. Maybe it was just a good day for Andrew.

Whichever it was, when Frank looked back at him and smiled, the both of them under the shine of the moon and sun's greeting, Andrew strangely gained the courage to lean forward and close the gap between them. They shared their first kiss under the eclipse.

There was something awfully poetic to that.

[insipid-drivel]

Intimacy is a very strange, yet wonderful, thing to experience.

I’m very asexual and sex-neutral. My partner, who just moved in, is demi. We met all the way back in 2005 (neither of us can remember the exact moment we met anymore; there’s before we met, and after we met as far as we’re concerned), and while we’ve only been living together for a few days now, it’s been wonderful. I’m a writer with a crappy musculoskeletal system, and he’s a retired veteran that’s taken a lot of combat-related damage.

I get chronic pain a lot, particularly when I’m stressed. My tendons suck and tend to seize up from ankle to shoulder and sometimes triggers nasty muscle spasms that race up and down my back and even around my ribcage. Sort of like Lucifer’s corset, except I know Lucifer is nicer that. They suck, but I’ve had them for so long that I really don’t comment on them anymore.

This morning I had a bad one. You know how chronic pain can compound into epic amounts of fatigue? Yeah. While sharing a home with someone I’ve known, loved, and adored on varying levels and scales across the past 17-18 years has been great, it doesn’t mean it can’t be stressful and catch up with me before I can start to relax into the new swing of things.

But this one was really bad. I was so exhausted from fighting the pain in my crappy, crappy sleep my eyes were practically welded shut when I woke up this morning. My partner was right beside me and is a prolific cuddler, as well as a sufferer of chronic pain himself from old bullet wounds and a shoulder that was nearly blown apart by a mortar blast. I very vaguely, as I was feeling the real bite of the pain hitting, felt him touch along my shoulders and back. Assuming it was nothing more than affectionate good-morning caresses, I just tried to let myself go back to sleep.

Suddenly, I’m being rotated to lie down flat on my stomach. I made a noise of complaint, and received a tut in response before I heard the miniature jackhammer of a motor in a (genuine) therapeutic massager.

It wasn’t sexy at all. This wasn’t the kind of massager that is just labeled “massager” to avoid marketing restrictions online. He found one of the worst knots in my hamstrings and dug the jackhammering head of it into the back of my thigh. 

I practically shouted with pain as the sensation knocked the wind out of me. He gently told me to hang in there and to remember to breathe - which I had forgotten to do. He gave me his free hand to squeeze as each godawful knot I didn’t even know I had in places I had never thought were relevant to my back pains was almost literally hammered out of my muscle and connective tissue.

After almost half an hour of half-excruciating, half-soothing deep tissue massage, he got up and ran me a bath and told me to get up and soak while he made breakfast. By the time I wobbled out of the bathroom and slumped onto the couch in the living room, I had a plate of eggs, toast, and hashbrowns in front of me.

Then he dragged me out for another half hour, minimum, of walking. The entire time, he kept hold of my hand. Even when I cursed under my breath at being so tired and tender all over, he nonetheless encouraged me to walk with him up steeper inclines than I would’ve liked. By the time we got back to our door, he asked me if my back still hurt.

When I hesitated to answer, he cheerfully said, “Seems like you’re starting to feel better! That means it’s time for another lap!”

“Damn you,” I grumbled, but walk we did, and I nearly fell asleep sitting upright when we got back inside at last.

He immediately began planning a high-protein meal for later while I remained doughy and sleepy. “You’re fatigued. You need protein,” he kept saying, and then motioned back toward the hallway to our room with a mixing spoon and instructed me to lie down and rest a little more.

By the time he came back to our bedroom to have a shower of his own, my back felt better and I had perked up rather than nodded off to sleep like I expected. As he left the bathroom and got dressed, it finally registered, and I had to ask:

“Wait... I never said I was hurting. How could you tell?”

He shrugged at me. “You were holding yourself really tensely in your sleep, and then you were struggling to wake up with me when we always wake up at the same time together. You were in pain. It’s my job to fix that.”

[my-journey-to-recovery]

11 days until detox!

Yesterday was such a positive day!

It started with a bit of alone time in the garden. I read the book 'My Sheep Hear my Voice' with a coffee and it was so peaceful. I asked God to help me to trust Him fully. To help me have faith that everything that's happening is for the greater good.

Then we had a picnic at the hostel organised by staff. I helped put the tables and chairs out and enjoyed serving in this way. I need to remember this when it comes to my sobriety - get involved with helping others to keep busy and help myself. A bunch of us ate together; two coke heads, two crack heads and a heroin user. We played games; egg and spoon race (which I won), pass the parcel (which the staff made sure we all won a prize), tennis and hopscotch. The sun was shining, we had music playing and it was just such a lovely vibe.

Of course I had a bag of coke for the day but I was sensible with it and made it last. Then spent some time with S and J, smoking weed and I did S a tarot card reading. She said it really resonated with her to the point she started crying. It's funny how God/Universe bring people into your life when you least expect it. I never thought I'd become good friends with a 'crack head' but do you know what - our habits don't define who we are as human beings. Everyone has a story to tell, a journey in which they've ended up on the wrong side of the track at some point and now I feel like everyone that's here is on a journey to better themselves and their lives - some will make it, you can tell who they are. The ones that still have that fire in their belly and some sadly wont. You can tell those ones too, which is sad. I hope I'm one of the ones who make it.

This place was so hard to be when I first moved in. But I've really grown to love some of the residents and staff and will miss them all. Miss it all.. the freedom of taking drugs/drinking whenever I want, all of it. But I also know that if I don't move then I will get stagnant, as my alcoholic neighbour says.

I just have to trust God that this move is the way forward for me and prepare to be ready to leave all this behind.

[fakeosirian]

long winded story time because this is funny and why not

i went to a small and weird (but still public, just specialized) high school that didn't have a football team, so lots of Typical United States High School Events got kind of...weird in the absence of The Sportsball. in hindsight they could have structured everything around different sports but eh. into the schedule blender it goes

one specific thing that ended up VERY DIFFERENT than the standard version of itself was the "pep band" -- our quarterly pep rallies were small enough to fit inside the (small) gym, so not only was there no space for a proper Marching Band, but not having a football team meant we didn't even have one in the first place. the band kids (as in taking an orchestra or jazz class) would play different sorts of events/assemblies throughout the year instead, but that was far too many people to fit in the gym while the bleachers and most of the floor were filled, and regardless, whatever it was couldn't get in the way of the vaguely-sports-related egg-and-spoon-race bullshit the student government put together to fill ~45 minutes

at some point, a few kids taking band (or kids who just played instruments and were enterprising enough, the lore was unclear) decided they'd nab a drum set from a practice room, find a bassist and a guitarist or two, and recruit a couple brass kids (optional) to stand in the corner of the gym and just...play covers. and they kept doing that informally for years and years (and they probably still are?)

i only hesitate because i used to be in charge of it (as in: through hijinks and shenanigans i inherited it from my ex in my senior year because no one else wanted to) and since it was already a ramshackle operation then, i could easily see it disappearing if the chain of "i know a guy" is broken for only one year

BUT ANYWAY: covers. the setlist was entirely dependent on who was in charge of the band that year, and it wasn't something the SGA/teacher sponsor bothered approving (or at least i never had to get it approved when i was in charge), so you could do pretty much whatever you want. the year before i was in charge, there was an infamous Incident during the student-faculty basketball game where the band played take on me intro riff (ONLY the intro riff) on repeat for the entire 7 minutes. worse, the lead guitarist played it entirely as a series of hammer-ons and pull-offs which, if you know anything about guitar, you can imagine that he had a hard time keeping things consistent once his fingers got tired (which for the record was around minute 3)

when i was in charge, we'd play:

fuck by red vox (specifically when people were filling into the gym)

wipeout (one time the drummer ended up playing the solo 5 times because whatever activity was going on went on FAR longer than we expected. he barely made it)

megalovania (during the student-faculty basketball game because we had to make sure that stayed cursed)

two wuv by tally hall (we didn't have a singer/the lyrics are what make this one so the effect of this one was lost but it was funny To Me privately)

love will tear us apart by joy division (as the "holy shit they're really just playing the same thing over and over" replacement for take on me)

seven nation army (this is one of two traditional songs that was always played. the first was become an alumn wrote it. this one was purely to torment the audience)

love illumination by franz ferdinand (the only song that didn't have some sort of ulterior motive behind it)

macintosh plus 420 (it was 2017)

there were others (some i just can't remember, some we only practiced and never actually went through with at the rally itself) but i think you get the picture

i'm realizing as i write this up that "pep rally designed to sap you of your sanity on purpose" is pretty unhinged and this probably explains a lot about me

[riverstardis]

this life:

iain’s really pissing me off. he’s leading rita on for the sake of the sex and looking like a hero🙄

oh yeah there’s a sandwich thief

connie’s going to grace’s sports day

robyn saying she’s going to make david talk🙄 i hate people who are obsessed with talking like shut up for once omg

ahh carmel and steph sims. this is going to end badly.

lmaoo steph asks connie if she’s taking part in the parents races and she says she isn’t planning to but steph says it’s nice to make the effort and connie pulls trainers out of her bag skdkfkg

aww connie beats steph in the egg and spoon race and carmel says her mum’s gonna be so mad that she got beaten :( poor girl

lmaoo lily says someone’s eaten her quinoa and ethan says he’s going to canteen later and offers to get her something but she’s like “the deli on the high street does an acceptable noodle pot” and he says he’s not going to that but she interrupts him with her order and then walks off and he’s like “yeah. okay. that’s… fine”

cal goes “tell her to get her own flipping lunch” and ethan says he did offer so and cal’s like “well you’re the fool. anyway i thought you were gonna grow a pair. remember? be more cal?” and robyn’s like huh?

it’s funny how only cal and lily know the actual origin of ethan’s be more cal motto but others do hear about it over time (especially when ethan gets it tattooed and at cal’s funeral) but they must wonder where it actually came from

also i miss when storylines used to fade out like this rather than what happens now which is like okay that’s over we’re gonna pretend it never happened (like rash’s gang sl and teddy’s heart problems for example). that’s one of the things that makes me worry that jon sen’s “12 episode arcs” thing is going in the complete wrong direction

jacob, cal, and jez making fun of iain sjdkkfkg

steph saying to connie “you’re so different to the way grace described you, hardly a witch at all” SJDKKF

lmaoo connie mentioning the witch thing to grace and grace says she didn’t mean it and connie says she’s busted and starts laughing and grace goes “mum, you’re cackling” because her laugh really does sound like a cackle😭😭

uh oh big mac steals someone’s painkillers

and the kid saw him😬

no charlie don’t tell a little kid he needs to be the man of the house, he’s a CHILD

robyn and david accompanying their patient to the mortality cafe. and this is what leads to robyn meeting glen

big mac coming clean to charlie

lily’s got a padlock for her lunchbox lmao

ethan asks her how her noodle pot was and she goes “eh, overcooked” and he’s annoyed and says that she owes him £5.60. she gives him a tenner and he says he’s gonna keep the change and cal’s looking amused and proud sjskfkkg

i’ve forgotten who the lunch thief turns out to be in the end. actually thinking about it it might be jez but i’m not 100% on that

charlie puts the pills in his locker with the plan to put them somewhere they’ll be found the next day… yeahh unfortunately they’ll be found IN his locker

max playing chess

charlie walking big mac to the NA meeting🥺

iain decides the best way to hint to rita is to have her see him go for a drink with another woman🙄

and so begins robyn and david’s friendship🥺

[fakeloveaskblog]

(Hi, me again. Random thing but when Janus was asking Remy to get eggs if they had the spoons. In my half asleep brain I was thinking of egg and spoon races, and that Janus was saying that if there were any spare spoons they could get eggs and have a race.)

Hi Remy I’m here. You have my word that I won’t summon you anything. Even if you’re begging. Any advice for if you do start begging, how to help you without summoning anything?

Glow Eyes

(HFKSFJH i was just trying to make them seem domestic but that is a very fun mental image)

Their fingers tapped against the coffee mug while they squinted their eyes to try and remember what the psychologist at the rehab center had told them.

"Yeah uh I shouldn't be alone if I get the urge to like relapse so you should probs like call Janny or RemRem. And if they're busy for some reason i was uuuh supposed to go to the like emergency center. y'know where like suicidal people go and stuff. Thanks for like asking"

The hours idly passed by as the coffee cups started to create a small pile on their table. When they moved their wrists the joints popped like a bag of popcorn. After all of the sewing their fingers had started to feel a bit numb but they'd gotten at least one piece of clothing done.

Several notifications went off from their phone all coming in at rapid pace.

Babe 💚: HALP BLEDING UT Babe 💚: GOIG TO HELL Babe 💚: ME DEMISE NEAR Babe 💚: AAAAAHHH BLODO

The text from Remus stopped for just a moment before another text came.

Babe 💚: Nevermind it was just a paper cut Babe 💚: Here's a photo of a cool beetle <33

Remy checked the time and got surprised at it just being a bit past noon. "You think RemRem wouldn't mind if I crashed in at his place after buying the groceries JanJan asked for? Sounds like I gotta save him from drowning in the blood from his tooots dangerous wound"