#the uk is making it harder and harder for me to stay here. even if i switch visas

[phrynea]

why is life so hard why is it so hard to figure out what to do with it

[formula-ghost]

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER SUMMARY: In the aftermath of Oscar’s breakup, he realizes there’s only one thing he needs to start feeling better. 

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI. Reader has AFAB anatomy. Rough sex (choking, biting, hair pulling), oral (m and f receiving), fingering, P in V, use of protection, praise, degradation/name calling, no aftercare (literally this entire chapter is them fucking, I’m sorry. I promise that all the smut has plot value haha). Mentions of cheating, reader is haunted by the narrative, hints of angst at the end. Also if a man treats you like Oscar treats YN in this story, LEAVE HIM. 

TAGLIST:  @at-a-rax-ia  @henna006 @linnygirl09 @cassielikereading @judelina  @supertrashbread @fastandcurious16 @widow-cevans  @czennieszn  @irisesinthegarden @wierdflowerpower  @sweetwh0re @reginalaufeyson-holmes @honethatty12 @suns3treading @obxstiles

A/N: The amount of love that everyone has shown me on this fic has been so overwhelming. You all have ignited my passion to create again. Thank you <3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Oscar stayed at your apartment for 4 days. 

There was a lot to be done; Lily had to arrange housing back in the UK and move her things. At some point, Oscar would have to tell his family. Potentially, an announcement would need to be made on social media. 

It felt like a to-do list, rather than the breaking of what once was something beautiful. Now, just boxes to check off. 

And Oscar wasn’t up to the task of any of it; you couldn’t blame him. It was hard enough for him to eat and sleep, let alone think about the upcoming races or the logistics of the breakup.

You let him talk when he wanted, but as the days between the breakup and the present grew, he seemed to settle. The shock was gone, replaced by a void, a thick grief that weighed down on him like a ton of bricks. There were a lot of quiet moments. 

Of course, you at least made sure that he had his basic needs taken care of. It was the least you could do.

On the afternoon of the fourth night, he got a text from Lily.

I’ve finished moving my stuff. Can you stop by in 15 minutes so I can drop off the keys? 

You read it aloud, because he couldn’t even bear to see her words with his own eyes. He stared at the wall ahead of him.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked.

“No,” he said, “I’ll be okay.”

He was silent then, the only sound from him being the jingle of his own keys as he got up to leave your apartment for the first time that week. As he walked out, you exhaled, throwing out a silent wish that he’d be okay seeing her again so soon. 

Oscar made the same wish as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment that only days before he’d shared with Lily. He felt like a robot in all of his movements; getting out of the car, pressing the elevator button, walking down the hall until he rounded the corner and saw her. 

“Hey,” she greeted him, to which he just gave her a small nod. 

“Here are the keys,” she said, and handed them to him. “I got all my stuff out, so, the apartment is all yours.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back home. For now, at least.” 

“You know you didn’t have to do this. You could have stayed here. Or I could have gotten you a place here in Monaco.”

“Don’t,” Lily said, softly, as if her tone of voice could change anything about the grief that the man before he felt. 

“It didn’t have to be like this, Lily,” he continued. “I told you, I’d quit it all. I’ll go to therapy. Whatever you want.”

“You’re living at her place. You’re sleeping in her bed.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is, Oscar.” Tears welled up in Lily’s eyes. “Let’s just wish each other the best and go on with our lives.”

“Is this really what you want?” Oscar pushed. “You really just want to throw away 5 years? Over what? I can change, Lily—”

“Goodbye, Oscar,” she said, walking away whilst he was still talking. He just watched her form get smaller and smaller down the hallway until she was gone. 

There was nothing he could do but stand there. She wasn’t coming back. 

Back at your apartment, dinner was almost ready. The clock on your phone told you that Oscar had been gone a little longer than anticipated. 

Maybe they were talking. Hell, maybe they had made up and Oscar wouldn’t be coming back. You were never the type to worry so much, but you had to admit that your thoughts were racing a little faster than usual.

That was, until you heard your door knob jiggle and felt the vibration of Oscar’s footsteps through your entryway. You heard him sigh and sink down into the sofa, running his fingers through his hair out of nervousness. 

“Food,” you softly called, walking out of the kitchen with two bowls, handing one to him. He accepted it wordlessly.

“D’you want to put on a movie or something? Or…talk about it?”

He just shook his head. So you obliged him, allowing him to have a quiet dinner.

As you ate, you admired him from across the couch. Even with his tousled hair, eye bags, and hunched shoulders, he was beautiful. And one day his smile would return—that sweet bunny-toothed smile that you had fallen in love with so many years ago. 

Your love for him had changed, though. You’d never have him. You knew that. And some would call it pathetic to stay in a man’s life solely because you loved him, when he didn’t love you in the same way. 

And maybe they were right. But you didn’t need the approval of others. You just needed your friend. 

And from Oscar’s side of the couch, he was thankful for the silence, but he was tortured by his own thoughts. The implication of what Lily had said; you’re sleeping in her bed, as if he had gone straight to you for a comfort beyond just home cooked meals. 

It pissed him off. How could she think so little of him? Accusing him of cheating, getting angry at him for wanting to spend time with his friends? 

Oscar was a man that was slow to anger. But when he got pissed, truly pissed, there was only one thing that really let him get that anger out.

If Lily thought that little of him, then maybe he’d just have to prove how horrible he really was. 

When dinner was done, you silently washed the dishes and cleaned up around the kitchen, stretching the sore muscles in your back and grimacing as they burned with the contractions.

“Your back hurting?” Oscar asked, leaning on the counter as you cleaned.

“A bit, yeah,” you confessed. “It’s fine.”

“I can take the couch tonight.”

“Oh no, you keep the bed. You need it before that flight tomorrow, anyway.” 

“I can sleep on the plane.” He paused. “Or, you know, the bed is big enough to share.”

Your hand paused as you wiped down the counters. You didn’t look up at him. The last time you had shared a bed with Oscar was when you lost your virginity. 

“I think that’s a bad idea.”

“We did it all the time when we were kids.”

“We aren’t kids anymore,” you said, reaching up to put away the clean plates. Your back burned with the stretch of your arms, and you winced. 

“I don’t mean it to be weird,” he said. You let the silence speak for itself. 

But when you were done cleaning up, you glanced at the couch and sighed, knowing that you really, really wanted to sleep in your warm and comfy bed.

So you slipped into the bedroom quietly, not acknowledging Oscar when you got under the covers and turned on your side, exhaling deeply as you felt the soft cushioning mold to the familiar shape of your body. 

Both of you were still awake, unable to sleep with the presence of the other, filling the room with a thick tension. 

“Are you still hurting?” Oscar whispered, laying flat on his back, staring into the void of the ceiling.

You, on the other hand, layed on your side facing away from him, staring into the void of your curtains that were only barely blocking out the light from the city outside. “Yeah,” you answered. 

You heard him shuffle, placing his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you down to lay with your stomach against the bed. You let him, though the intimacy of the moment was…odd. 

“Trust me,” Oscar assured, as if he could read your thoughts. “Relax.”

You did, letting out a long breath as he began to massage the knots in your back, firmly pressing his strong hands into the dough of your flesh.

He slid his hands under the hem of your shirt, but you did nothing to refuse the contact, having practically turned into a puddle at the relief he brought your soreness. 

But when he was done, he just slid your shirt back down and sat back up in the bed, as if nothing had ever happened.

“Better?” he asked. You gave a strong exhale as you got up and stretched your arms above your head.

“So much better,” you said, giving him a soft smile. 

“I’m sorry for taking your bed.”

“Don’t be.”

“I guess I’ll go back to my place when I get home from Japan,” he said. 

“You can stay here as long as you like,” you assured him. 

“Thank you,” he said. In the darkness, the room was only barely illuminated by the lights of the city, but you could see Oscar's frame sitting before you; his tousled hair, his broad shoulders, his perfectly sharp jawline. 

Then the words came spilling out of you, in a way you couldn’t control. “I’m… so sorry, Oscar. For everything.”

“For what?”

“For ruining your relationship with Lily, for always being in the middle of everything—”

Oscar cut you off by kissing you. That familiar feeling of warmth and safety came to rest in your chest, a strange deja-vu. 

“Oscar…” you whispered as he pulled away.

“You didn’t ruin anything. I wanted you there. Always.”

“Lily thought you were in love with me.”

“I know. She thought you were in love with me, too.”

You paused, looking at him again. You couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, just the faint outline of your face. But the floodgates of your honesty had already been opened. 

“Was she right?” you asked. 

“Was she?” he responded, putting the question back on you. 

You didn’t answer. You loved him. He knew you loved him. You knew that he knew that you loved him. But you couldn’t bear to say it aloud, not knowing whether he’d say it back.

To end the silence, he just kissed you again, deeper this time, holding your waist. But you pulled back.

“We shouldn’t,” you said.

“Why not?” 

“Because you’ll regret it in the morning.”

“No I won’t,” he said, kissing your neck. You inhaled sharply. “Besides, it’s not anything we haven’t done before.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, Oscar.”

“I know what I want.”

You pulled away, catching his eye in a sliver of light that snuck in between the curtains. 

He continued, “I know what you want, too.”

He was right. You wanted him. And if you had really pulled away from him, he would have let you go. But he knew you wouldn’t.

So you let him bring his arms up under your shirt, holding you now with a force that was rougher, more refined, than when you were two nervous teenagers exploring each other’s bodies. 

He quickly pushed you down on the bed, pressing his weight on you as his tongue slipped past your teeth to explore the warmth of your mouth. His hand found yours and he intertwined your fingers, pinning you down with the tender gesture.

His lips roamed down, finding their way to your neck to leave marks as he roughly bit and sucked into the tender flesh, causing you to softly gasp. His unoccupied hand roughly gripped at your thigh, holding onto you with a frenzied lust that you’d never seen before.

All his movements were twinged with this agitated desire, as if your body could take all his anger and frustration away through just his touch. 

His lips left your neck for only a moment, as he freed his hands and removed your shirt, revealing your bare chest, nipples hardened from the cool air in the room. He quickly removed his own shirt and began to fondle you, pawing at one side as he brought his mouth to suck at the other. Your head fell back on the pillow, overwhelmed at the rough sensations—Oscar’s bare skin against yours, the coolness of the room, the warmth of his wanting. 

His breath got more ragged as you felt his hardness pressing against you, the full extent of his longing held back only by the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t like years ago, hesitant and gentle. Now, he was dark and still devoid of any love. 

But love was the furthest thing from your mind right now, your body overwhelmed with the sensation of Oscar’s hand around your neck, his fingers pressing down the side to keep you still as his other hand moved lower down to the hem of your shorts. 

He slid his hand under your panties, finding your pussy, slick and already craving him. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” Oscar murmured. 

All you could do was whimper as his fingers teased your entrance and he went back to kissing up and down your neck. It was like he couldn’t waste a second with your body, or else the reality of what you all were doing would catch up to him. 

But neither of you were thinking of anything other than the growing lust you had for the other as his fingers pumped in and out of you, filling the quiet room with sinful noises.

“Fuck, Oscar,” you said, your voice breathy. “Slow down.”

“Why?” he questioned, obeying your request anyway. “You can’t handle it, huh? How are you gonna take it when I fuck you?”

“Osc…” you exhaled. All you could do was moan his name as he sped back up. 

“No, you can take it, can’t you?” he taunted, his fingers sprinting in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that made your stomach burn with pleasure. 

“Yes,” you whispered between breaths.

“Good girl,” he said, curling his thumb to circle your clit as he pumped his fingers faster, causing you to see stars.

The praise and the sweet burn of his touch pushed you over the edge. You threw your head back on the pillow and let out a low moan as you clenched around his fingers.

You felt him grab your chin with one hand, taking his other from your dripping pussy and forcing his fingers in your mouth. You instinctively closed your mouth around him, curling your tongue along the digits, tasting your own cum on his fingers.

His eyes traced the edges of your lips as he pulled his hand away and kissed you, mingling tastes until you forgot where you stopped and he began. 

He pulled away and removed the last layers of clothing until you both were bare, shielded only by the darkness of your room.

There was no love making, no tenderness, just animalistic desire, as he wasted no time putting on a condom and sliding himself inside you with a long groan. 

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he said, leaning his weight on you as he stuffed you with every inch, filling you with the sweet burn of pleasure. “Yeah, you can take it, can’t you?”

You didn’t answer, instead balling up the sheets in your fist as he fucked you. To hold him would be too intimate.

He closed his eyes and buried his head in the pillows next to you as he desperately rutted into you, taking it slow to savor every second of blissful escape that your body could give him. You could hear every frenzied noise that escaped his mouth, and you responded in turn, doing nothing to hold back the sounds that rose from your stomach to your throat and passed through your lips. 

“Oscar,” you breathed, “I’m close.” With every movement, the knot in your stomach threatened to release, flooding your body with pleasure. 

Oscar sped up his pace, chasing his own release more than yours. Still, you broke, coming apart beneath him, shuddering as he continued to press in and out of you. 

It wasn’t long until his own moans increased in pitch and intensity, signifying that he was nearing the edge. You rocked forward on him, fucking him as he fucked you, getting him closer quicker. The sweet friction of your bodies was too much; he pulled out and removed the condom, pumping his length furiously. He bit his lip and groaned expletives, cumming on your stomach, painting your skin with the evidence of your lust. 

Oscar’s breath slowed as he rummaged around for his discarded clothing, handing you a towel to clean up. As he almost immediately re-dressed, you felt…exposed. Self-conscious. As if this wasn’t your best friend, the man you’d given your virginity to so many years ago.

You felt… used. 

Even after you had dressed yourself, and both of you had turned opposite each other to get some rest, the feeling didn’t go away. Because, after all, hadn’t you used him, too?

I know what you want, he had said. You had wanted this—at least, in theory. But now, days after the love of Oscar’s life had left him heartbroken? 

No, not this. This couldn’t be what you wanted. But then why had he been right? 

Oscar may have said that he wouldn’t regret it, but you definitely were already.

You fell into a tense sleep, only to be awoken by Oscar’s alarm a few hours later. He groaned and slapped his hand over your nightstand to shut it off, grumbling as he turned back over and buried his face in the pillow.

You sat up, giving up on a good night’s rest, and went to the kitchen to make some tea and watch the sunrise from your balcony. You could hear Oscar from the bedroom, groaning as his snooze went off for the second time and he heaved himself out of bed. 

You wordlessly handed him a mug and walked out of the kitchen to the balcony. It was too early in the morning; there would be no sunrise for another hour or so. You sighed. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Oscar asked as he walked up behind you, mug in hand. 

“I wanted to watch the sunrise. Didn’t realize it was still so early.” You took a sip.

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here too long.” 

You hummed, relishing the warmth of the mug between your fingers. He was right—it was freezing. 

“When are you flying out?” he asked. 

“I’m not,” you said, staring off into the water in the distance. You took another sip. “They’ve got that new guy doing the photos this weekend.”

“You should,” Oscar said, walking forward to lean on the balcony next to you. The closeness felt like a mockery after the distance you’d felt hours before.

You let out a chuckle. “I think the new guy probably cried when we told him he’d get to do Japan. I can’t take that away from him.”

“I meant, like, with me.”

It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, that you’d gone to a grand prix as a personal guest of Oscar’s. It was something that shouldn’t be weird at all. Then why did it feel so wrong?

“I just…don’t wanna be alone,” he said as he turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his gaze.

‘I don’t know, we’re already behind on the merch orders—”

“You can work remotely.”

“Not from the pit wall,” you said, a faint smile tracing the edges of your lips.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn?” he teased. A smile came to his lips—the first smile you’d seen in days. 

“Never,” you said, your voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Well, if you wanna turn down authentic sushi and seeing your favorite McLaren driver, be my guest.”

You cringed at the reference—ever since Lily had tried to set you up with Lando, you and Oscar had jokingly started referring to him as “your favorite McLaren driver,” even though you both avoided each other like the plague due to the awkwardness of it all. 

But authentic sushi sounded great. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Osc,” you laughed. 

“And I drive an even better Formula 1 car. Which you could see, in Japan,” he joked, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in that familiar dry expression.

Oscar felt…normal again. And yes, you had been so busy tending to him that you had fallen behind on your work. But it was worth it, to banter with your best friend again, even if only for a moment.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “You got me. Let me inside so I can pack, it is fucking freezing out here.”

One torturously long flight later, you were checking into a hotel in Japan with Oscar.  

Since the trip had been planned so late—your ticket literally bought over the phone in the Uber on the way to the airport—the hotel was fully booked by F1 employees. You and Oscar would have to share a room. 

Your stomach sank at the realization, as if you hadn’t slept with him the night before anyway. 

Up in the room, as he unpacked a few of his belongings, Oscar’s phone rang. You glanced at the caller ID: Mum.

He saw it too, but ignored it, continuing to set out his clothes for the next morning. 

But your phone rang, too, the same name and number, even the same caller ID. Nicole was practically your mom anyways.

“Do you want me to answer it?” you asked, and Oscar sighed.

“I haven’t told her yet.”

“I figured.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Not even with her.” He slung a shirt over his shoulder, walking towards the bathroom.

“She’s not gonna stop until she gets one of us on the phone.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to lie?

“No,” he began. He knew you. You could pull off a small white lie if you really had to, but it tortured you inside. He wouldn’t ask that of you. “I guess… do you mind telling her? I just don’t have it in me.”

“I can.”

“Thank you,” he said, giving you a flat smile, a genuine attempt at thankfulness. You just nodded and took a deep breath as you heard the shower knob turn and water droplets crash against the floor.

You called Nicole back.

“Hello, darling,” she began. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. A bit jet lagged,” you admitted.

“Where are you off to now?” she joked, a smile surely on her face.

“I’m in Japan with Oscar, actually. Kinda last minute.”

“Ah,” she said. “Are you with him now?”

“No,” you lied, unable to admit that you were currently sharing a room with her son. “I can pass it along, though?”

“Oh no, I was just wondering how he was doing.”

“Well, I can tell you, he’s not great, unfortunately. Erm… he and Lily broke up.”

“Oh, God…” she sighed, “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. “I’m not entirely sure what happened. I guess they just weren’t happy anymore. He’s heartbroken, though. So, if it seems like he’s avoiding your calls, that’s why.”

“You know, I figured something was wrong. Things were just…off, when you all were here, weren’t they?” 

Your heart rate increased. “Yeah, I guess they were.”

“Can I ask you something, YN?”

“Of course.”

“Did you know anything about this?” Her tone wasn’t at all accusatory or scandalous; as usual, she was kind.

“I mean, I knew they were having some problems. I think Lily wanted them to spend more time together. I never thought it’d end, though.”

Nicole hummed. She knew you couldn’t quite tell her the full truth. There was something deeper there, something from far before your visit to the Piastri family home. She’d get it from you eventually. 

‘Well, I’m sure you all are busy in Japan, so I won’t hold you any longer. But tell Oscar I love him and to call me when he’s ready. And I love you too, YN.”

“Love you, Mum,” you said as you hung up the call. Her voice felt like a warm hug through the phone. 

As if on cue, Oscar came out of the shower, the white towel wrapped around his waist leaving little to the imagination. He roughly tousled his wet hair in a smaller towel. God, he looked good. If it were up to you, you’d push him back on the bed and fuck him right then and there.

But something felt…wrong. You’d been with him just the night before, but an unfamiliar guilt had made its way inside of your chest and made a home there.

It didn’t make sense. You, not Oscar, had warned against it; he had worn down your carefully built defenses, the ones you’d meticulously created over the years, until no excuse could protect you from the truth anymore. Yes, you wanted him. You had wanted him for years. Every second that he had been with Lily, you had wanted him for yourself. 

But you had never done anything about it. Always been respectful, reading the room, leaving when you knew you weren’t wanted. You hadn’t done anything until she finally left—and did you have every right to, then?

You guessed so. Then why did it now feel so fucking wrong?

Oscar’s voice broke you out of your spiraling. “What did she say?”

“She just wanted to check up on you. I told her.” He hummed in response. “She was asking me about it, but I didn’t really know how much you wanted to share. She just said she loves you and to give her a call when you can.”

“Thank you. For… doing that. I’m sure it was awkward.”

“It was fine,” you lied. It had been incredibly awkward—you could sense that Nicole suspected you were far more involved in the breakup than you had admitted to being. But was it really your fault? What had you done wrong? You continued, “It’s the least I can do.”

Oscar got quiet then, thinking about what, you’d never know. 

“Well, I guess I promised you sushi?”

“That you did,” you replied. You were more thankful for a break in the awkward silence than the promise of dinner.

So you ended up at Oscar’s favorite hole in the wall sushi restaurant in Japan, as if nothing in the world was amiss. 

Still, the feeling of something being deeply wrong, though now shoved to the back of your mind, wouldn’t leave you alone. It was odd—there had never been an F1 race in which Oscar and Lily weren’t together. Of course, she couldn’t come to every race, and with you working for him, you often ended up in positions similar to this.

But it felt like your entire world had been tinged a bizarre shade of blue, like Lily’s absence was a grief that you felt too, though you two had never been particularly close. And if you could even feel this crushing weight of her absence, you didn’t even want to begin imagining what Oscar felt. 

So, you’d have to excuse the awkwardness, the quiet moments, and even his concerning desire for you last night. He must be losing his mind. 

All of this, while also attempting to keep up the appearance of normalcy; he snapped a photo of you throwing up a peace sign and posted it to his close friends story, playing as if nothing was amiss. 

As you ate, his phone vibrated. A message from Lando. 

Oh, you all didn’t invite me? I see how it is. 

The message, dripping with Lando’s usual cocky sarcasm, was typical of the Brit. On any other day, Oscar would have smiled to himself and playfully rolled his eyes at his teammate’s antics. Today, though, the message only brought forth a flood of frustration. 

In the midst of Oscar’s heartbreak, something darker had been brewing; a championship battle.

He knew it was too early in the season to call. It was only the third race, and McLaren was known for the teamwork between himself and Lando. But Oscar was nothing if not competitive. You had to be, to get this far in F1. 

His legacy so far has been polite teamwork. Papaya rules, or whatever the fuck the strategists wanted to call it. Getting gifted wins by Lando or giving him the wins that Oscar rightfully deserved—he was willing to do it, of course, for the team. But he couldn’t be sidelined forever in favor of the golden boy of Formula 1. 

So Oscar knew that this would be his season. Lando had a close call in the 2024 season with Max Verstappen and was being hailed as the favorite for this year’s championship. But Oscar was determined. Oscar had nothing left to lose. 

He was getting that championship if it killed him. And that meant that there was no more room for friends.

Oscar opened the message, just to get the notification bubble to go away, annoyed by the friendly pestering of his competitor. He left Lando on seen.

But Lando wouldn’t let his teammate get away from him that easily. 

“Hey, Oscar,” he yelled ahead of him, as they walked into the paddock the next morning for media day. “Morning, you muppet,” he said, playfully clapping Oscar on the back. 

“Morning,” Oscar murmured. 

“Tired?” he asked. Oscar nodded. “Well, makes sense, because you were so busy going out without me. And then you had the nerve to leave me on read.”

Lando’s tone was clearly playful, but Oscar was still having none of it. “We got sushi.”

“Ewww. But as your unofficial fourth wheel, I still would have appreciated an invite.”

“It was just me and YN,” Oscar said, absentmindedly fiddling in his bag for his ID. He had truly been tired—too tired to really organize his bag before he left the hotel this morning. 

“Ah. Well,” Lando smiled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, “wouldn’t want to interrupt that.”

Oscar looked up, making an unamused face at Lando. “What are you saying?”

“What? I know a side chick when I see one. But that’s none of my business, I know when to keep my mouth shut.” 

Oscar yanked his pass out of his bag, zipping it up aggressively. “YN isn’t my side chick.”

“You’re in a sour mood. Did you not sleep well or something?”

Oscar wanted nothing more than for Lando to leave him alone. “No, I didn’t. Lando, you know we’re not friends, right?”

“Sure we are.”

“Outside of the track, maybe. But I’m here to beat you. Not invite you out to sushi.” 

“Oscar, you’ve got to relax. You’re letting all this get to your head, mate.”

“I have somewhere to be,” Oscar said, abruptly ending the exchange there.

Lando wasn’t offended. He knew that when stakes were high, you said things you didn’t mean—God knows he had done that himself too many times to count. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something beyond just the stresses of Formula 1 racing that was causing Oscar’s hostility. 

Contrary to what one might think, Oscar was actually very easy to read. And it hadn’t exactly been top secret that he and Lily were having issues. Maybe Lando had just hit a nerve with the implication that Oscar had been unfaithful. 

But was he so wrong? To any outside viewer it seemed plain as day that there was something between you and Oscar that Lily seemed in denial about—at least, she had been, until Lando was caught in the crossfire during the Italy trip. 

God, the Italy trip. He cringed just thinking about it. Even after clearing the air with you, he just felt so…disgusting. Not at you, but at himself, the way he had dismissed you as if you were meaningless. But what else was he meant to do, when Lily had pushed you far beyond your comfort zone, and he knew you didn’t want anything like that with him?

He hoped that you wouldn’t hold it against him. He certainly wouldn’t hold whatever Oscar was dealing with against him. 

And that was fortunate, because Oscar’s foul mood followed him throughout the day, and into the next morning too. It was like the Aussie was followed by his own personal raincloud of annoyance, unable to escape his own thoughts. 

He was quickly learning that, even at Formula 1 speeds, he couldn’t outrun his heartbreak.

But it wasn’t sadness that he felt. It was anger. It was determination. It was a giant fuck you to everyone and no one in particular. Gone was the polite cat, the veneer of civility and sportsmanship. He needed to win, just to feel something again. 

Sessions one and two of free practice seemed promising. The third session was even better. 

But before qualifying, he felt that now all too familiar feeling bubbling up within him. The pressure to perform.

He needed to get pole. He needed it. 

In the paddock, he passed the commentators box. He could hear them talking about him. 

“For this afternoon’s qualifying session, all eyes are on Oscar Piastri! The McLaren driver had an amazing 2024 season, and so far this year, he’s already clenched a home win. But, somehow, he has never secured pole position at any Formula 1 Grand Prix qualifying session, only having done it for two sprint races. Compared to his teammate Lando Norris, who has historically dominated qualifying…”

He couldn’t listen any longer. 

He stomped back to his driver’s room, the words spinning in his head. It wasn’t just the commentators. It was Lando, it was the crowds, it was Lily. 

No. Not now. 

He grabbed his phone and sent a text.

You were oblivious to all of this, having spent Thursday and Friday in the hotel catching up on all your work that couldn’t be ignored for any longer. You’d come to the track today to support Oscar, and to help the new guy, who you had quickly realized most definitely wasn’t ready to be working an entire grand prix weekend on his own. 

But as you once again reminded him of the most basic functions of spell check on Instagram captions, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. A text from Oscar. 

Come to my room.

A second message.

I need you. 

You felt your heart drop. Even if you didn’t know the details of what exactly Oscar was feeling, you could tell that it was slowly eating away at him, making him a shell of his former self.

In the few days since your last night together in Monaco, you had kept your distance, unsure of where you stood since that one regretful night. But soon, you’d find out exactly what Oscar needed from you.

You practically sprinted to his driver’s room, only knocking once before he opened the door, his face just as flushed as yours. He peeked his head out, looked both ways to ensure the hallway was clear, and pulled you by the waist into the room.

He closed the door and locked it.

In one motion, he grabbed your waist, pushing you against the wall and overwhelming your senses with a fierce kiss. 

You were left breathless as he refused to let you go, bringing his free hand to your chin to hold you still against him. His kiss deepened, devouring your taste, as if he’d never get another chance again. 

When he finally did pull back, you could see his eyes clouded with wanting, looking you up and down like he’d die if he didn’t get more of you.

“Oh, “ you exhaled. “That’s what you needed.”

“Is this okay?”

You swallowed back your nervousness at his loaded question. “Yeah. Just wasn’t expecting it.” 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I just can’t fucking drive like this.”

You both held your breath as you heard a set of footsteps approaching, then fading off into the distance. 

“We don’t have time. Can you do something for me?”

You nodded at him, your innocent eyes staring at him with anticipation. God, you were fucking perfect. And he was going to ruin you, right here and now. 

“On your knees,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He gently pulled your hair back before wrapping around his hands in a fist, pulling you back to look at him. “You’re so good for me,” he cooed.

But that was the end of his gentleness. He was going to prove to you how much he needed you.

You started slow, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, sinfully dragging your tongue along his sensitive tip. But there was no time for teasing. 

He held your head and pushed into the back of your throat, letting out a soft, low groan as the blissful feeling of your lips around him. 

“That’s it, love. You can take it, right?” he teased, and you let out a muffled “mhm” as an answer, your mouth being preoccupied with much…bigger things. 

“Yeah, you take me so well, you’re so good for me,” he said, pushing your head back and forth to guide your rhythm. “Like you were made for me.”

You couldn’t help the gagging noises that came out of your mouth as you pressed your hands into his thighs for support. He hit the back of your throat, and you felt your eyes roll back from the relentless pace.

“Good little whore,” he said, his voice wavering from pleasure. “Letting me fuck your mouth in public, whenever I need it. God, fuck—”

You dug your nails into your thighs as you took every inch of him one last time, until you felt the sweet stickiness of his release coating the back of your throat. He let out one final groan as he let down your hair and fixed his race suit.

You swallowed and wiped your mouth as Oscar leaned down to kiss your cheek, an odd tenderness after the intensity of your encounter. 

“I’ll see you back at the hotel, yeah?” he asked, and you just nodded as he walked out the door. 

You watched from inside the paddock as Oscar got his first pole position. 

Neither of the McLaren boys won the grand prix, though. Max Verstappen, in usual fashion, had to remind everyone who was the 4 time world champion and who were the two children in comparison, fighting over the shiny toy of a trophy. 

A double papaya podium was good, though. That’s what you thought, at least. You’d hadn’t talked racing with Oscar in a while, knowing that it caused him more harm than good to be constantly reminded of the stakes at hand. 

But after the grand prix, you couldn’t stay with him for the next two races of the triple header. You had truly been neglecting your work in favor of being there for Oscar, and you needed to focus to catch up on all the beginning of season chaos. 

So, having sufficiently trained the new guy to hold down the fort in your absence, you reluctantly went home to Monaco.

But on the road, your absence hit Oscar like a ton of bricks. 

He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He paced the lobby of expensive hotels like a zombie. Everything was just…wrong. 

Oscar had always been the type who didn’t like to be alone. That wasn’t new. But this…thing, that felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside? He couldn’t name it. 

You could, though. It was heartbreak.

“I miss you,” he admitted, his voice quiet on the other side of the phone. It was the middle of the night in Bahrain, but you were just laying down for bed. 

“I miss you too, Osc, but you’ve got to get some sleep.”

“I can’t. It’s too quiet here.”

“Why don’t you put on some music?”

“It’s just… not the same.”

You sighed, empathetic for your struggling best friend. “What do you usually do when you’re alone on race weekends?”

There had been plenty of weekends where neither you nor Lily were in attendance, but those days seemed foreign to him now. “I don’t even fucking remember.”

“I’m so sorry, Osc. Do you wanna…talk about it?”

He knew the “it” you were referring to. The more accurate pronoun would be “her.”

“No,” he said, the word feeling final and solid. “But has anyone asked about it?”

“No,” you echoed. “You’ll have to tell them eventually. People can tell that you’re not doing too well.”

“Great,” he sighed. 

“If anyone asks, I can tell them.”

“Thank you.” He paused. “I think I’m gonna sell the apartment. Get another one.”

“It might be nice to have a new start.”

“Yeah,” he continued, “I just don’t even want to go back there. But I know I can’t keep hogging your place.”

“You can stay with me as long as you need, Osc.”

“I’d rather you stay with me. The guest room is practically yours already, anyways.”

“I could do that,” you said. 

“Are you sure you can’t come out for Saudi Arabia?”

“I wish I could. But your fans order too much merch and we’re drowning in orders,” you laughed. 

“Good problem to have.”

“Yeah.”

The silence on the lines was thick, an electric current running through the fragile stability of what was unspoken. The breakup, all the emotions he had refused to talk about since it happened, and the…new hobby the two of you had been indulging in. At some point it would have to be addressed.

But not now. Oscar yawned, “This is awful. I’m exhausted all the time but I can’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. It was all you could say; it was true. 

“Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” You could never say no to him, even though you knew you should be focused on getting your own sleep. It was an unusual power that Oscar had over you; if anyone else asked this much of you, you would have left them a long time ago. But Oscar? You wished that you could do nothing more than hold him until it didn’t hurt anymore. 

But, for now, you’d have to settle for talking him to sleep from a few thousand miles away. And, evidenced by his soft snoring, it was working wonders. 

In the days before his return, it seemed like Oscar’s anxiety was rubbing off on you, even from so far away.

You couldn’t hardly sleep, always anticipating his call or texts in the odd hours of the night. You settled into an uneasy routine in his absence, your schedule practically becoming his so you were always available to call or watch his races. 

On the surface, it wasn’t unusual; plenty of fans woke themselves up at ungodly hours to watch every interview or free practice session. But in light of everything else, it felt like more of a commitment. 

And the fact that Oscar wanted you to essentially live with him in his Monaco apartment when he got back? Again, it shouldn’t be so odd. You would live with the Piastri family for months at a time when you were younger and your parents traveled for work. 

But you knew this time it was just different. You knew you couldn’t get attached to this new life you had already begun to settle into. At some point Oscar would heal from his heartbreak, and things would go back to normal.

How could life continue as normal, though, with Lily being gone? She was so integral to the fabric of both of your lives that neither of you could imagine one without her in it. 

It was this topic that came up the night before the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, on a facetime call with your best friend. 

You hadn’t pushed him to talk, knowing that he’d come to you when he really needed it—and he did.

“I just…I hate being on the road, but I don’t want to go back. Being in Monaco without her just feels wrong.”

“I know. It’s weird for me too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just, you all were endgame, you know? I never imagined this would happen.”

He hummed, clearly not expecting that answer. 

“I didn’t either,” he responded. “I know you said it would get better, but I can’t imagine it right now. How did you do this?”

“You want the truth?” you asked. He shifted in bed, bringing his arms up under his head to lay on them, like a child curled up next to his mother.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I ever really loved any of my exes. I was just trying to convince myself that I did.”

“I don’t believe that. Not after how devastated you were when you found out about the last one.”

You huffed at the nickname ‘the last one.’ After you discovered that your ex had cheated on you. Oscar was still so pissed that he refused to call him by his name.

“No, I didn’t love him. I think I was more upset about the fact that I had finally convinced myself that I did love him, and then he did that. I thought it was finally over, like…it was a game I had won. I tried to stay because I didn’t want to start all over with someone else. But I realized it was a waste of time, so I might as well just stay single.”

“YN, that’s…really sad, actually.”

“I guess,” you said, smiling and exhaling. “But you live and move on, right?” Through your screen you saw the faint sheen of teardrops on Oscar’s eyes. You looked away.

You continued, “But it’s different for you and Lily. You all really loved each other. I don’t know how you heal from that.”

“I don’t either.” He sniffled. “You’ve really never been in love?”

“That’s… it’s complicated.”

Even from a screen thousands of miles away, the implication of your statement was unmistakable. But you didn’t want to go there. Not now. 

Someday, maybe. Someday you would be able to tell Oscar directly to his face that you had been in love with him for nearly a decade.

But first, he had to come home. 

When he landed in the airport in Nice and caught an Uber to his apartment in Monaco, heartfelt confessions of love were the last thing on his mind.

Lando had won the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Oscar was now losing. 

He couldn’t win them all. It was the beginning of the season. He was going through a rough time. All these excuses swirled around his mind. And that’s what they were—excuses. He hadn’t performed. He needed to be better.

He didn’t want to be better right now, though. He wanted to go home and collapse in his bed and sleep for a week straight. But his apartment would be cold and empty without Lily there.

Well, at least he’d have you.

And since you knew coming back would be hard for him, you had gone out of your way to make his homecoming easier. Using your spare key, you moved a few things into the guest room, did his laundry, lightly cleaned up, and had his favorite dinner set up and ready on the table with a lit candle rounding out the cozy scene. 

He thought he might cry tears of joy when he walked in and saw what you had done. 

Still, it was…different. When he would come home to Lily the house felt more lived in. Now it was clean and cozy, but too much so, evidence that the once binding force of the apartment’s atmosphere was gone. 

He wasn’t complaining though. Few people were lucky enough to come home to a clean home and a warm meal made by someone who loved them. And after the dinner, he certainly wanted to make his appreciation known.

“The least I can do is return the favor,” Oscar said, leaning against the wall behind you as you cleaned up the remnants of the meal. 

You playfully scoffed. “Since when do you cook or clean?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing his lips to your neck.

“Um…oh,” you exhaled, unsure of what to make of his advance, but nevertheless relishing his touch. 

“You’ve just been so good to me,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers up your spine.

“I’m just…being a good friend.” Your voice was breathy and tense.

“Do you not want to?” he asked, spinning you around to look at him.

“Well I just—” you exhaled, looking away from him. God, yes, you wanted him. Under eye bags and messy hair, depression and vulnerability, you wanted all of him. “In your apartment?”

“Would you rather I fuck you out on the street?” he joked. You would have smiled wider if you didn’t know that he was intentionally dodging the implications of your question. 

You couldn’t not bring it up, though. “In her apartment? In her bed?”

Oscar’s expression got colder. “It’s my apartment. She took all her shit and left.”

“It just feels wrong. I mean, Oscar, what are we doing?” You hadn’t intended for this conversation to happen now, but you both knew it was inevitable. 

“What we are doing is talking, when there are far better things our mouths could be occupied with,” he answered. “But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

He pulled his arm away from your waist and turned away from you, but you couldn’t bear it. The thought of him sleeping alone broke your heart.

So you pulled his arm back and hissed him rough. He pushed you back into the counter, asserting dominance, as one hand came up to wrap itself around your neck and the other snaked its way underneath your shirt. 

“Jump,” he instructed, and you hopped up onto the counter and he took off your skirt and panties before spreading your legs apart. 

“I owe you one, no?” he teased before his mouth found your clit and sucked.

“Fuck, Osc,” you said, putting a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“Stop that,” he said, pulling your hand down before bringing his lips back down to your pussy. 

“Osc, I’m trying to be quiet and you’re making that….very difficult,” you said. 

“Quiet? If the neighbors aren’t putting in noise complaints after I’m done with you, then I’m doing something wrong,” he laughed.

You all never made it to the bedroom, too caught up in the moment to even move a few rooms away. He fucked you right there on the counter, whispering filthy nothings in your ear.

“My perfect little toy, aren’t you? Disgusting little girl,” he moaned. “Wanted me so bad you couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. How long have you wanted me to fuck you like this? Days? Weeks? Years?”

You couldn’t even respond, too lost in the heavenly feeling of him filling you with every inch. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy. I know how badly you wanted this, for so long. Fuck,” he moaned, “I’ll take care of it now. Just let go, cum for me.”

You obeyed.

But later that night, as he slept next to you, his words haunted you. It wasn’t the degradation—you liked that—but the deeper implication. He fucked you on the counter that he and Lily had once made dinner on together. You slept in her bed, next to her boyfriend. And he knew that you had wanted him so badly for so long. He teased you with it.

But you had never done anything, right? Oscar was right—he wasn’t her boyfriend, he was her ex. This wasn’t her apartment, not anymore at least. She had left.

Then why didn’t the guilt that was now eating you alive leave with her?

That guilt, powerful as it was, wasn’t enough to keep you from fucking Oscar on every surface of that God-forsaken apartment. You both were insatiable, and soon enough, the sounds of your pleasure echoed through every room, every day. 

Her counter. Her kitchen table. Her couch. Her shower. Her bed. 

The entire place, though now devoid of her belongings, was still Lily’s. And you were defiling it.

But you couldn’t stop. The feeling of Oscar’s hands wrapped around you, his lips on yours, was like a drug. You had waited so fucking long to have him—in every place, in every way. So why did it make you feel like you were going to puke every time you thought about it for too long?

And the question that you and Oscar were still avoiding hung thick in the air. 

What are we doing? The unanswerable question still haunted you.

As good as his touch felt, you knew it was wrong. And eventually, you’d have to talk.

It seemed that you weren’t the only one with that question.

After another night tangled between the sheets with Oscar, he checked his phone. A call from his mother. Fuck.

He had been avoiding her for weeks now. He couldn’t do it any longer.

While you cleaned up in the shower, he finally gathered up the courage and called her back.

“Hi mum,” he greeted as she immediately answered.

“Well hello, son. It’s nice to finally hear from you,” Nicole replied, her voice tinged with annoyed sarcasm.

“I’m sorry. There’s just been a lot going on.”

“I know. I talked to YN a while ago.”

“Yeah, I told her she could tell you. She’s, um, been helping me out a lot lately.”

“That’s good. How is she doing?”

“Oh, great,” he said. It was true. Oscar was making sure you were well taken care of, to say the least. 

“Been spending a lot of time with her?” his mother asked, bringing his thoughts back down to earth. 

“Yeah, she’s been helping me a lot with the apartment. I’m probably gonna sell it, but all the paperwork is ridiculous. I don’t have the time of energy for any of it,” he sighed.

“That’s not what I was getting at, Oscar.” He could hear his mother’s frown through the phone. 

“What?”

“You seem to have her around quite a lot for a man who’s newly single, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that, mum.”

“Oscar, do not lie to me.”

He sighed. “God, mum, I am not with YN! I would never do that. She’s just a friend. Besides, I don’t think I ever want to date again.” 

From behind the closed door of the bathroom, you heard him. You stopped in your tracks.

Nicole refused to give it up. “I raised you better than this, Oscar.”

“Seriously, mum?”

“Under the assumption that you’re being entirely honest, which I know for a fact you’re not, you know damn well how that girl feels about you.”

“How are YN’s feelings my problem?” Your ear pressed to the bathroom door, you heard every word. You thought your legs were going to give out. 

“Son, I know you must be heartbroken. But don’t do that to her.”

“I’m not doing anything. And thanks for asking how I’m doing, mum. A scolding is actually the perfect thing I need after the love of my life just up and left me a month ago.”

“Don’t get that tone with me—”

“I’ve got to go.”

“Fine. Do you think you’ll be able to come home at all before the summer?”

“I don’t know, mum. I’ll call you later.” 

The two hung up the call, and you heard Oscar huff as he put his phone back on the nightstand. You didn’t want to come out of the bathroom. In fact, you didn’t even want to be in this apartment, or the principality of Monaco, or on the same planet as Oscar Piastri right now.

But where else would you go? Your own apartment, the one that he had purchased? Back to his family’s house in Australia?

Where else was home?

Once, you had hoped that home would be Oscar’s arms. All you wanted now was to be held by him. But there was never much tenderness from him after your lovemaking. He always just turned over to the other side of the bed and fell asleep.

And that’s what he did now, clearly grumbling to himself about the phone call, though you didn’t say anything about what you’d heard. 

You sighed, a noise of frustration rather than contention. Oscar just ignored you.

You grabbed your own phone off the nightstand, hoping to distract yourself in work or endless scrolling.

But while Oscar didn’t want to talk to you, it seemed someone else did. Your eyes glanced over the screen:

Accept message request from Lando_Norris?

[simjaexy]

this is so random but I've been thinking about vampire sunghoon who's in a marriage with benefits with vampire reader (the benefits being safety so they can pretend like a normal human couple blah blah). but the main thing is they don't really like eachother and always at eachothers thoughts. and uk rough mean sex because omg they HATE eachother and cannot stay away from eachother so they just FUCK and imagine them both switching trying to accert dominance but both are equally strong so it's a tough fight. GOD I NEED TO READ THIS!

Temptation Series here

Warning: MINORS DNI, Blood, Riding, Eating out, Mean Dom Sunghoon, Brat Reader

You and Sunghoon never liked each other, even when getting married so you guys wouldn’t be assumed of something not human. To you guys, it felt more like a prison sentence than actual love. Despite your constant bickering, whispers of hatred towards each other, you guys still end up naked in bed together after a steamy sex session.

“F-Fuck you!” You hissed at Sunghoon who was currently sucking your bud. He let out a scoff and licked your folds, you felt your orgasm coming faster than expected and kicked harshly at Sunghoons back. Your strong force turning Sunghoon on even more.

Your orgasm came when you let out a slutty moan and threw your head back, wrapping your legs tightly around Sunghoon as he licked your wet juicy folds. You whimpered when he nuzzled his tongue on your hole. You really hated how good he makes you feel.

Your legs unlocked him causing him to stand up with a lick of his lips. You covered your eyes with your slim arms, your sharp fangs showing making Sunghoon feel some type of way. He smirked, but that didn’t last long when you pulled him down, harshly kissing him.

He moaned into the kiss, entering his wet tongue inside your mouth. You both fight for dominance, but it was harder than Sunghoon expected. He knew you wouldn’t out up without a fight. You noticed Sunghoon was so focused on getting dominance that you decided to distract him.

You let go one of your arms from his neck and stroked his cloth dick. He let out a low moan and grind down on your hand. You smirked and bit his lip causing him to yelp, blood dripping on his lip. He cursed and stared at you, your eyelashes fluttering teasingly. God he wanted to punish you.

Your eyes turned a crimson red staring at his bloody lips and grabbed him once again to give him a kiss. He hummed when he suddenly felt you sucking on his bloody lips. You felt him grind on your wet open pussy. You moaned in amusement.

“Really want my pussy that bad?” You teased. Sunghoon growled and let go of you. He stripped off his pants and boxers revealing his hard dick. You smirked and opened your pussy with your two index fingers, Sunghoon snapped.

He didn’t waste as second plunging his girthy dick inside of you. You screamed with warning and tightly wrapped your arms around him. He fucked you shallow and deep making your eyes roll back, tongue lolling out. Sunghoon grinned seeing you crumble just from his dick.

But that feeling left as fast as it came when you bit his neck harshly. He groaned in pain and gripped your hips tightly, “Wanna ride you.” You moaned. His thick eyebrows furrowed. You found it beyond sexy seeing him so frustrated that you can talk without stuttering.

“And why would I let you do that?” He asked. You glared watching his lips twitch to a grin. You sighed and grind on his wet dick, he let out a sigh in pleasure. Your wet pussy sucking him in.

“Don’t you wanna feel me deeper?” You whispered. Sunghoon didn’t say anything, instead wrapped his hand around your neck, “Then you better fucking obey me.” He rasped out. You smiled and nodded.

He took his still hardened dick out causing you to whimper and switched position with you. You excitedly positioned his dick at your entrance and slowly sunk down. You moaned and gripped his chest, his smirk never faltering. That was gonna go away soon.

You began bouncing on his dick, his tip hitting all the right spots. You bit your lip, trying to quiet your moans. But God did it feel good when your on his dick. It curved just right. Sunghoon gripped your waist, letting out low curses, “Shit, just like that.” He moaned.

That’s when you suddenly stopped making Sunghoon frown, “I didn’t tell you to stop?” He said. You smiled innocently, “Well I wanted too.” You smiled. Sunghoon eyes darken at where you’re getting at. You slowly grind on his dick, making intense eye contact with him.

“What the fuck are you doing.” He snapped. As much as he loved you grinding on his dick, he wanted to see your tits bouncing while you ride his dick. You hummed and continued doing it, testing his patience.

“Do I not feel good like this Hoonie?” You asked. You knew he didn’t like when you called him that. Tilting your head to the side revealing your neck. You saw his eyes avert his gaze to your neck. You let out a gasp when he suddenly pulled you down and bit at your neck.

You screamed and suddenly felt him fucking into your tight pussy, “Oh god!- Hng!-“ You cried out. It felt so damn good, your orgasm close. You tried matching his pace, but with his arms wrapped around you and your hips in no better position, it was monstrous.

“G-Gonna cum!” You whimpered. Sunghoon breathed out and slapped your ass. His hand print definitely leaving a mark. You came on his dick with your eyes rolling back and your mouth agape. Sunghoon gave three more snaps before cumming inside you.

You both panted harshly as Sunghoon took out his dick. You laid flat on your back still breathing uneven. Sunghoon laid beside you, but his breathing turned back to normal. He stared over at you before smirking, “Looks like I’m still the dominant one.” He said.

You looked over at him and gave him a peck, “You may be the dominant one, but I’m always the one that does it better.” You smiled. As much as that crushed somewhat of Sunghoon ego, he couldn’t agree more.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Mud

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Alex x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: she/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, language, family get together, kissing, married couple,

𖤐Summary: Alex and Y/n go back to Alex’s hometown in Texas

————

————

Heading back to Alex's hometown was always so stressful, he never knew how his family would act, and now with his wife there's still no telling some of his Aunties will act all nice for a hour and then give her shit for the rest of the time they are there.

Alex took his knuckle to his mouth and just held it between his teeth, Y/n sat in the passenger seat, feet up on the dash (in her socks, she's not an animal), and was looking down at her phone, but she did notice Alex's sudden quietness.

"Alex? Everything okay, honey?" She asks, moving her feet to the floorboard.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, yeah, everything's okay," he says, tapping on his stirring wheel.

"Alex...you're nervous," she says, putting her hand on his leg.

"I am," he confesses.

"Why? It's your family."

"Honey, do you realize when we do visit my hometown, my family can be weird?" He says.

"Yes, I've noticed," she says. "But that shouldn't matter, should it?"

"I just...don't want you to feel miserable or something while we're here."

"Alex, you make it seem like I'm meeting your family for the first time. I'm okay, I'll get over it," she says, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "I'll still love you and only you, if anything does happen, you're your own person, your family can't do that," Y/n says, tapping his thigh.

"I know," he says, through a deep breath.

With the rain it wasn't helping Alex, he wanted to call his mom and say the roads were flooded even though they weren't, Alex just thinks his family will ruin the fun, because they all have their moods.

"Oh your mom texted."

"Can you see what she wants?"

"Sure," Y/n takes his phone from the cupholder and unlocks it, she reads the text out loud for. "When you come down the driveway park in the field."

"Okay?" Alex was confused, no one parks in the field.

Alex could see his childhood home up ahead, the gate was open and the lights were just barely visible due to the rain. He pulls into the driveway and sees all the trucks and cars in the field, he parks next to a red Ford F-150.

"Huh, Uncle Joey is here," he says, pointing to the red truck.

"How come we're parked in the field?"

"No idea, honey. Stay in here, I'll come help you," he says, grabbing his hoodie from the backseat putting it on, flipping the hood up and grabbing the black umbrella from the passenger seats back pocket.

He quickly hopes out, slamming his door shut, he opens the passenger door bring the umbrella over the door so the rain doesn't dare touch Y/n as she gets her boots back on and fixes her shirt, she forgot to grab a jacket when they left the hotel this morning.

"Thank you, Alex."

"You're welcome, honey," he says as they rushed to the front porch. Y/n gets under it and Alex closes the umbrella. He knocks on the door like normal, but no answer.

"Hello? MA!?" Alex yells. He knocks harder on the door as Y/n went to the railing.

"Alex, I hear laughing around back," she says, Alex opens the umbrella and Y/n held onto Alex's arm and they rushed around the back of the house. They saw everyone sitting on the back porch drinking, smoking, eating, having a good time.

"Ma? Pa?"

"ALEX!!" His entire family yells when seeing and hearing Alex. They all rushed to the couple bring them under the large awning.

"Uncle Alex try the watermelon!"

"Alex hows work?"

"You still in the Military?"

"Y/n, darling I love the earings."

"Y/n are you still that assistant for the large company in the UK?"

"Auntie Y/n can you show me how to braid?"

The couple was just getting bombarded with questions, Alex was on one side of the deck while Y/n was on the complete opposite.

"Alex you still drink whiskey?"

"Haven't touch it in a while," he gave an awkward chuckle. They gave Alex a glass and poured him some whiskey. They clinked glasses and downed the amber liquid.

"Y/n, I love your hair."

"Thanks, I just got it done," she gave Alex's cousin a smile.

"Aww~ Y/n, I'm so glad you're here!" Alex's older sister Bree came running to Y/n arms over her neck and hugging her tightly.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, but questions, why are we out here in the rain and not inside?" Y/n asks.

"Oh, we do something called a rain party, whenever we have a party and it rains that same day, we come outside and enjoy the rain," Bree says with a smile.

"I've never heard that before."

"Well, it's a Keller thing, I don't know anyone else who does it," she tells Y/n.

The girls talked and talked, and all Alex did was just stare at Y/n, the weather kind of lied and said sunny all day, but when they came close to Alex's hometown it immediately started to rain.

So Y/n was in light blue boot cut jeans, a white shirt that she tied in the front because it was too big on her and some cowgirl boots Alex had bought for her a while ago, and now she had an excuse to where them, and her hair was up in a ponytail.

"Alex? You listening?"

"Huh no, I'm not," he was honest.

"Lookin' at your wife?"

"Well, yeah," Alex eyebrows narrowed while looking at his Uncles and father.

"Leave the boy alone, he's allowed to stare at his love." Alex's father says.

"Yeah, well...y'all seen the debate?"

"And that's my cue to leave," Alex says, walking away and heads to where Y/n, Bree and his mom Lia was.

"Oh Alex," Y/n jumps when feeling his hand on her waist.

"Hey, had to leave the conversation."

"Politics?" Bree asks.

"Yep," Alex says while popping the p. "Can I steal my wife?"

"Go ahead," Bree says.

"You never told me about rain parties your family throws," Y/n tells him.

"Didn't think that was important," he says.

"Uncle Alex you wanna race cars?" His nephew Matthew comes running and asks.

"Sure, bud, come on," Alex takes Y/n's hand and they start heading under the deck, going down the stairs getting a big wet and getting under the deck were all the other kids were. They surrounded the racecar track and started playing with their own cars.

Matthew gave Alex his spare racecar.

"Thanks bud," Alex says as the race was just Alex and Matthew. Alex hasn't played with racecars in a while, and the newer racecars have different controls.

Y/n sits on the wicker couch behind him as one of Alex's nieces sat on her lap and Alex's younger cousins surrounded her, they all wanted to talk to her, ask her questions, and Y/n would answer while braiding all the little girls hair one by one.

"How long have you been married to Alex?"

"4 years."

"How old are you?"

"Shut up, Liz, you don't ask a woman that question," one of the cousins says, while elbowing Liz in the side.

"It's okay, I'm in my mid-twenties."

"Is that old?" Liz was elbowed again by the same cousin but harder and caused a fight between the two.

"Hey, hey, don't fight it's okay," Y/n just laughs. "I guess I'm old depending on how you see it," Y/n says, trying to be positive but deep down it did kind of make her sad that the younger generation sees her as "old."

"Oh well you won," Alex says, he let Matthew win, Alex knows how passionate Matthew is and if he doesn't win, he gonna be crabby the whole night, so he let him win.

"One more round?" Matthew asks.

"Nah, maybe later bud," Alex says, getting off his knees that were hurting and put his hand out for Y/n, she was done with the last little girl. Y/n placed the little girl on the concrete and stood up and takes Alex's hand as they both said their 'byes' to the kids and went back up to the main deck with all the adults.

Y/n saw Bree and Lia and she was handed a glass of wine, the ladies were taking photos for Facebook to rub it in Lia's Church Friends' faces. Lia was the only Keller that went to Church, Bree didn't have time for it because she has her own life to worry about and Alex's father Ben was busy with the farm and couldn't find time for Church so Lia was the only person.

Lia had made friends in the Church but they were all fake, teasing Lia, making fun of her, and they would hold gatherings without Lia and post them on Facebook so now it was Lia's turn to show how much she was having without those so-called friends.

The girls stood in front of the stone fireplace outside giving their best smiles and holding their glasses of wine as one of Alex's cousins took the photo, and every girl was getting cycled out for the next photos, it was first Lia, Bree, Y/n, and a cousin, the next group was Aunties, and more cousins.

Then the rest of the night was just random photos of everyone having fun. The guys drinking, some smoking, other photos were showing off the wonderful food everyone brought.

Y/n sat on the wicker couch, right leg crossed over her left, her elbows resting on her knee, as she watches everyone. Y/n's family never did this, have parties this big, it was like everyone in Alex's family came.

Alex came to Y/n sitting next to her, arm going behind her and she leans into his touch.

"You having fun?" He asks.

"Yeah," she says, looking a bit tired. Alex just chuckles at her, leaning forward and kissing her temple, his arm now going around her waist and tapping her thigh.

"You look so hot."

"Alex," she slightly groans at him.

"What? I'm telling the truth," he chuckles again.

"I know, but I need you to tell me that," she says, pushing on his chest.

"So? They how much I'm in love with you," he says, kissing her lips now. She could taste the alcohol on his breath.

"Alex are you drunk?" She asks.

"Maybe, I am," he says, with red cheeks, and slightly red eyes.

"I think we'll stay here for the night, huh?" she says as Alex just nods. Alex couldn't drive cause he was drunk, and Y/n couldn't drive because she doesn't know Texas roads.

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

10:30PM

Alex had his head back as he sat on the couch inside the house, everyone had left and the only people left was Bree, her kids, Alex and Y/n. Y/n had gone to the bathroom to change into some pajamas, she didn't know she was going to be staying the night, so Lia gave Y/n some pajamas that don't fit her anymore.

Alex was just passed out on the couch till Y/n came out tapping his shoulder waking him up. He wakes up with a smile on his face, cupping Y/n's face and kissing her lips.

"Did an angel just wake me?"

"You're such a flirt, come on, honey, we need to get you into bed," she says.

"No, I like the couch, I miss how comfortable the couch is," he says.

"Alex, come on," she says, tugging at his hand to get him up. He does and follows Y/n up to Alex's old bedroom, she pushes the door open forgetting how his old bedroom looked.

It was untouched after Alex had left for college and left the states to live in the UK. Their were posters of half naked girls on the wall, his walls were painted a dark navy blue, his bed was made, and it was kind of messy.

Alex plopped on his back on his old bed. He groans as Y/n starts undressing him to put him in his pajamas which was just his boxers. Alex only slept in boxers because he would get too hot.

She takes his shirt off bring it over his head, he opens his eyes and smirks, his hands go to her waist under her shirt.

"Alex, wait," she says.

"You're taking advantage of me," he whines.

"No, I'm not, I'm getting you out of your clothes," Y/n says. She then starts unbuckling his belt and starts pulling his jeans down.

"Woah, there honey, if you wanna blow me just ask no need to be so demanding," he chuckles.

"Of hush, you're drunk, I'm not going to blow you, I'm not gonna do anything."

"Damn...you should."

"No," she says.

"Why?" He whines like a child.

"Because you're drunk," she chuckles.

"Hmmm~" he hums.

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

6:00AM

Alex woke up early, he rubs his temple and looks to his left seeing Y/n laying on her side facing away from Alex, she was still asleep, he rubs his eyes and gently moves his hand and taps her hip, she doesn't move but snuggles deeper into her pillow.

He gets up and grabs his clothes off the floor. He gets dressed and heads downstairs going to the kitchen sees his mom make breakfast.

"Morning ma," he says.

"Morning, sweetheart," she says, placing a plate of bacon on the table. "Is Y/n still asleep?"

"Yep, she's looks really tired," Alex says, yawning.

"Morning," Ben says, coming into the kitchen sitting next to Alex.

They talked and rank their coffee as they waited for Y/n, which wasn't long, she comes downstairs in her pajamas still, she yawns and Alex gets up kissing her temple and walking her to sit across the table from him.

"How'd you sleep, Y/n?" Lia asks.

"Oh you know, had to deal with someone who couldn't handle their liquor," Y/n says as Alex's parents laughed.

"Hey now."

"Don't hey now me, you don't remember anything but you kept accusing me of taking advantage of you," she says.

"You must've," he says, raising his eyebrows and drinking his coffee.

"No, I wasn't," she says, slightly kicking him under the table.

"You two are perfect for each other," Lia says. "Now, let's eat."

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (13)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean, angry reader, Mary being a bitch

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (12)

“Did you pack everything, Michael?” You lovingly run your hand over your son’s head. Moving back to the States won’t be easy. It will be a hard piece of work to leave your old life yet again.

Nothing is ever easy with Dean Winchester in your life. He’s like a tornado coming into your life to turn everything upside down.

“Can we stay with Dad and Uncle Sammy? Dean told me so much about his home and Baby! Mommy, he’s got an Impala called Baby and…” He trails off, suddenly falling silent. “Sorry, mommy. You already know that.”

“It’s alright, baby boy.” You softly kiss the top of his head. “Have a look around your room. We don’t want to miss something. We will stay for at least a week or two, okay.”

“Hmmm…okay.” He nods before running off to his room to check if he forgot something.

“Uh-do you really want to meet up with Bobby for a job?” Sam pokes his head inside the living room. “Maybe you can fix things with Ketch, or at least find a new, and better position here, the UK.”

“One could believe that you don’t want Y/N to come with us,” Dean grunts while his brother tries to make sure you’re not making a hasty decision. “She wants to meet up with Bobby. You like Bobby. He’s a good man and an even better employer. If she wants to work for him, it’s none of your business.”

“Guys, can you not fight? I had a lot to prepare before our flight. You are still butting heads like kids,” you snort when Dean gives his brother the stinky eyes. He purses his lips and wildly gestures at your tits. “Dean, my eyes a little higher.”

“I didn’t point at your boobs,” he says but glances at your cleavage. Dean hums, and subconsciously licks his lips. “Even though, they are nice to look at.”

“Dude,” Sam huffs. “Seriously?”

“What?” Dean shrugs. “It’s the truth. Now, back to packing things. Do you need more, sweetheart? I can get some boxes and pack everything up.” He grins, giving you puppy dog eyes.

Sam tries to stop his brother from saying something making you change your mind. “Dean…” He sighs. “Slow down.”

“No, Sammy. I gotta bring her away from that douche. He’s got grabby hands. I won’t let him touch her.” Dean harrumphs. He hates Arthur Ketch with passion.

“That is enough, Dean!” You grab his ear, tugging hard. Dean winces and tries to grab your wrist, but you only tug harder. “I decided to go back to the State to work for Bobby. Not yours, or anyone else’s. There’s a lot to consider and organize before I can even think of moving back to the States.”

“Can you stop fidgeting?” You watch Dean nervously shift in his seat. “Dean, the seat is more than comfortable. This is the first class.”

“How’d you pay for it?” Sam watches you get a credit card out of your purse. You smirk and toss it at him. “Is that a company card?”

“Arthur decided that he doesn’t want to let me go. He insists that I retract my two weeks’ notice. Arthur is not very mature when it comes to rejection, it seems. He told me he’ll do anything to keep me at his company.”

“So, you use the company card to pay for your flight?” Dean snickers. “I love how you think. Even better, you can be so devious.”

“I don’t think that’s legal, Y/N,” Sam, ever the lawyer throws in. “What if he takes legal action?”

“He can eat shit,” you snap at Sam. “I won’t play by his rules any longer. I’m officially on my way to discuss another deal with Bobby Singer. If I invite a few friends to join me on my flight, it’s justified.”

Dean grins proudly. He’d done the same if he was in your shoes. “No swear words in front of the kid,” he says, but chuckles. “We cannot use fecal language when Michael is around.”

You huff and lean back in your seat, closing your eyes to get some sleep. Michael is already asleep, and Sam is close to drifting off himself. Only Dean is antsy and cannot calm down. Not only because of his problem with airplanes but the fact that you are so close too.

“DADDY! We’ve missed you.” You smile when Sam’s kids run toward their father. He immediately wraps his arms around the screaming bunch to hug them. His wife, Jess, shakes your hand while you ask her if Michael can stay here for today. You don’t want to leave him in the hotel room you booked or drag him around.

Holding his kids in his arms Sam sighs. “I’ve missed you too,” he says and hugs them a little tighter. The last days made him see how lucky he truly is. He had the chance to watch his kids growing up and has the love of his life by his side.

“So, Sammy,” Dean clears his throat. “Can Michael stay here and meet his cousins? Y/N wants to talk to Bobby and mother.” He spats the last word.

Jess holds out her hand for your son. “Of course, he can stay here as long as he wants to,” she says when he takes her hand. “How about we go inside, and you can introduce yourself to your cousins, Michael?”

Sam and Jess walk inside their home with your son and their children. You watch them go with a sad expression. You and Dean could’ve had what they have. He’s a little chaotic, and sometimes a mess, but Dean has a good heart.

If only Mary didn’t manipulate your relationship back then…

“How did it go?” Dean asks when you walk out of the building of Bobby’s company. “Did you get the job? Bobby didn’t leave you hanging, right?”

“I got the job, and he will help me find a place to stay,” you tell Dean if only to stop him from asking more questions.

“I know you don’t like me much, but I can help you too. Sammy is good at house hunting, and I’m good at renovating things. You know that. We can help.”

“Dean—” sighing deeply you look at Dean. He offered to drive you around, bringing Baby on purpose. Dean wanted to bring old memories back up. “Can we just drive?”

He raises his hands in surrender and nods. “Where to now?”

“Your mother’s place,” you say, venom in your voice. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never find the courage to face the villain of your story. “I have a lot to discuss with her. And Dean…”

“Yeah?” He furrows his brows. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a ring, with a big diamond. And for you to not say a word. Leave this to me…”

Dean comes back twenty minutes later. He opens his hand to reveal the engagement ring you left behind years ago. You swallow thickly but take the ring to put it on your finger.

“What are you up to?” He asks while following you toward his mother’s house. Dean wonders if he should stop you from confronting his mother. Mary is not going to admit her mistakes or ask for forgiveness.

You smile sweetly, but there is a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. “Revenge,” you say, and grab his hand. You interlace your fingers with his and put your sweetest fake smile on.

“Knock, baby,” you coo, before Dean can chicken out. He starts to sweat but raises his fist to knock. “I will so enjoy this.”

The door opens moments later. Mary looks at her son, smiling because she believes he came back to apologize. But then, her eyes land on you. Your fingers interlaced with Dean’s.

“What are you doing here?” She spats your way. “I didn’t invite you.”

“I wanted to thank you for bringing Dean back into my life,” you let go of Dean’s hand to show off the diamond ring on your finger. “Who would’ve thought that burning the message I left to tell Dean about his unborn son would bring us back together, huh?”

You smirk, seeing the struggle on her face. “I have a grandson?” She hiccups. “No, this is impossible.”

“No,” your eyes grow cold, and you deepen your smirk. “You don’t have a grandson, and you don’t have a son any longer.” Her face falls when you step closer to look her up and down. “Pathetic. Only because your marriage was loveless you wanted to ruin what Dean and I had. What a pity we found each other again.”

“No—you won’t take him back. Not after he left you years ago.” Mary shakes her head, but you simply chuckle.

“We will rise from the ashes, stronger than before. Dean will be a good father for our son and a good husband,” you chuckle darkly. “And you can choke on the hatred and bitterness you consist of. You will never see your grandson because he doesn’t need a coldhearted bitch like you in his life.”

Mary can only watch you grab Dean’s hand to lead him back toward Baby. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you're about to cry because all the hurting hits you again. You won’t, though.

This time you walk away from Mary Winchester, your head held high…

Part 14

Tags in reblog.

[thewalrusespublicist]

Ngl your posts about a reverse 1980 scenario and get back have ruined my life too bc now I can’t see gifs or clips of get back without part of my brain viewing them through the lens of a John who survived but lost Paul and it destroys me I can’t even imagine how it would actually be for John

How do you think George and Ringo would react in this version? Both in the immediate aftermath and years after? How does their relationship with Pauls memory and with John change? I picture George having a particularly complicated dynamic with Paul’s memory having to contend with the public idolizing him, but on the other hand John alternatively joining in to one up them or swinging the opposite way to distance himself and tear down that image

(Ask referring to this post.)

Hi anon!

Apologies for passing the disease on to you. I too have been afflicted and it's terrible lmao. As I said in the tags on that post i don't think it would be wise to be in the same room if he ever had to see the 'buttercup baby/tearing up' footage or the 'goodnight John' it would have been horrendous.

I talked a bit how I think George and Ringo would respond to the press here, but in terms of there relationship with John and Paul's memory ... ohhh tricky. I think Ringo would be heartbroken with grief and feel guilt/anger over their unresolved rift (they're the rhythm section! that's his baby brother that he loved to hug/watch play/mess around with) but would continue to be lovely in the press at the time and over the years. His relationship with John I think would stay mostly intact. Ringo was never the aim of John's ire and Ringo mostly stayed out of any spats with the others/in the press as far as I can tell.

With George, I'm not saying that the grieving period would be worse per se as I don't think it's fair to measure pain, but certainly it would be more complicated and harder to navigate. From my understanding of their dynamics, John was the hero that let him down whilst Paul was more his peer/brother who wouldn't let him in again after they had fought. It's a different kind of loss with added layers of guilt, especially if the general pop reassessment of the break-up period mostly exonerating Paul came a lot sooner in this timeline. So you have grief over one of your oldest friends and essential brother, guilt and anger around the break-up and failing to make-up, inability to fix things which is bad for his soul, coping with adulation of Paul in the press and your other friend/fellow bandmate acting erratically. Not a great time to be George. As I mentioned in the other post though, I think much of this internal wrestling would be expressed to Olivia and the petunias and not voiced to the press.

I think George's relationship with John would be rockier. There would naturally be the same desire for renewed closeness as happened in real life with the other Beatles and John might also be a lot more obsessive and clingy to George as the last survivor of the OG Beatles line up that he cared about (RIP Pete Best but he didn't fwu like that). The thing about Paul and George that helped a lot though is that their middle-aged interests and hobbies were similar enough to relate to and achieve closeness (despite spats). In contrast, John at the time of his death was so isolated that his interests had gotten a bit wacky and the distance from NY to the UK would have been hard to overcome. (Also slightly convinced that John would have gotten into Scientology to add to the chaos.) George was also way more vocal about Yoko so if John and Yoko would have stayed together that would make things tense. Adding to potential struggles to connect would be John's public random emotional nuke bombs in interviews and press as well as his likely private Gollum-level possessiveness and unhingedness over Paul's memory and the unintended icing out of George as a consequences of that. ( Lol I've suddenly got this mental image of John in a meeting being like "well George I thought it was a good idea but I spoke to Paul on the spiritual plane and he said it was shit so :/.) I just don't feel they would be able to get on consistently good ground before George died. (Saying that John would have handled George dying terribly and I wouldn't blame him.)

All in all, aside from the bright spot of John and Ringo, everything in this timeline would have been even more of a hot mess express than in ours.

[viric-dreams]

It’s been weeks since the constable’s death, since Jones’ nightmare had ended. And yet he can’t sleep at night. 

He’s dead. Then why does he see him around every corner? 

Made to look like an accident. The papers could be lying. 

You have an alibi on the other side of London. The blood was hosed from the dock before he’d ever had the chance to see it. 

It’s over. How can it be? When he’d done nothing. Known nothing. Had the problem taken from his hands, supplicated with the assurance that it’s all over with now. Taken care of. Does he Believe?

He all but lives in the church now. He’s certainly not going to work. He can’t look any of them in the eyes. Especially not him. He knows what will happen if he does, and Shaw does not deserve his misdirected anger. The vicar doesn’t deserve it either, and yet he’s become the unintended target of his ire, of barely bitten back words and his acrid mood, seeping into every surface. And even a man of God has his limits. 

“I think you need to leave, Robin. Come back when you’ve cooled down.”

And if he can’t? If he can’t get his head on straight, can’t be the calm and inoffensive Mr Jones he’s supposed to go on stage and play, can’t look at a pastry without feeling his stomach turn…?

He doesn’t return to the church. He can find salvation at home. 

He can do many things at home. He can

he can

he

He needs to get out of here. 

The letter from the surface arrives at his door not a moment too soon. His “Koloman” companion, the one from Cornwall, wants to meet. In person. She was always sympathetic to their cause. He was so close to turning her before. Before the letters became harder and harder to write, the right words missing from his mind, replaced with exhausted looping thoughts, and that vile, unpleasant blistering feeling beneath his skin. 

He writes her back. He’ll meet her. Perhaps not the UK (she has no need to know what will happen should he be caught on British soil), but somewhere closer. How about France?

It’s not a request hes submits to the Game, it’s a statement. He’s going to the surface to try to recruit her. Shaw is going to pull the strings to make it happen. He won’t deny him this. He can't. Not now.

And so he packs his bag, closes his house, and leaves on a steamer bound for the Cumaean Canal. Let him leave the ghosts and his black mood behind in the darkness. He needs the change and the light.

Neither the Game nor his contact need to know about the second letter, Cardiff-bound, the one he’d mailed alongside his response.

My Dearest Lottie,

It’s been far too long since you’ve last heard from me, and I apologise. Perhaps what I have to say next can make up for it: Are you able to come to Brittany posthaste? Bring the kids, or leave them with mother if you cannot. Whatever the case, tell no one. I don’t know for how long I’m able to stay, but it’s been far too long since I’ve seen your smiling face. I’ve missed you, Lottie, more than words can possibly express. This may be our best chance to see each other again. I’ll be departing soon, but I’ve forwarded you the address of where to find me. God willing, we’ll finally meet again face-to-face. The thought is a ray of sunlight in the dark. Be well, and, I pray, until soon.

Your loving brother,  -Robin

[imaginemcyt]

being childhood best friends with cc!ranboo would include...

synopsis: what it was like growing up best friends with ranboo

tw: none!

listen to: count on me by bruno mars, twin size mattress by the front bottoms, the best day by taylor swift

you probably met in your early school days, most likely first grade or so (you'd be like 6 for those of you who don't go to american public school!)

you'd become friends pretty fast, always picking each other during partner work time and playing with each other on the playground

you probably poked at worms and drew each other little pictures 😭😭😭😭😭

growing up your parents knew him and their parents knew you, so you'd always spend time at each other's houses

summers were always the best because you got to spend nearly every day together, always swimming at his house or riding your bikes around your neighborhood

when you were twelve, you got into a pretty big fight and didn't talk to each other for almost a month. it was the longest you'd ever been apart, and you both cried when you finally made up. your parents were extremely worried about the two of you

when you got to be about 13, your body changed quickly, and they were always the first to hype you up when you felt down about yourself, and they always stuck up for you if you got bullied or received unwanted attention

he became a personal guard dog for you 😭

they'd literally just intimidate people with their height and that's all it took

you were his support system when discovering his gender and sexuality and they will never ever forget that

you're genuinely their soulmate. even if not romantically, you're two halves of one whole, and you both know it deep down

you're the first person he goes to when he blows up online

you're in full support, but you want to remain completely anonymous and uninvolved

you don't want their clout, and they love you for that

everyone around you thinks you guys are dating, and you don't make a big deal out deal of denying it, just a simple "no, they're just my best friend!"

as ran continues to grow online, you remain entirely out of the public eye for a couple years

in late 2022, he introduces you to his fanbase and they love you!!

after that you still stay pretty private, only really joining for a couple streams and videos here and there

chat always asks about you

they love to tell stories about you on stream

when he moves to the uk, you cry harder than you ever have, but you understand that he sort of needs to for his career path, and you're in support

they promise to still call and text you every day

before he leaves though, you guys kinda have an "oh, duh" moment where you're like,, wait. you're an adult, too,, you could literally just go with him.....

so you do! you move to the uk with them!

your parents all see you off and you all cry together, but they know you'll be alright because you have each other to lean on

eventually you're introduced to aimsey, bill, tommy, tubbo (im delulu), freddie, and others such as wilbur, james, ash, phil, and charlie

you are an official member of cricket crew

sometimes you guys will go back to america and visit your hometown in california, driving together down your old town's streets, windows down and music up, reminiscing

they will cuddle you or hold your hand (/p) if you ever want or need them to

ceo of piggyback rides.

he knows you so well that you don't even have to ask

tesco trips. y'all never have to argue about who is going to do the shopping, you always go together because it's fun. hanging on the shopping buggy, riding it through the aisles, buying a bunch of things that you most definitely do not need

they 100% spoil you. they will buy you anything and everything, just because they wanted to. you try to do the same as much as you can, but he always wins because they have that streamer money 😔

you both have so many stories and so much blackmail on each other

and photos... my god, the pictures yall have........

birthday gifts are never serious, you always get each other gag gifts and inside joke related gifts

christmas is when you literally spoil each other

they always bring home your favorite snacks when they're out

if you're a gamer, they're introducing you to new games they found and learning how to play them with you

if you're not a gamer, he's teaching you how to play his favorites just for fun!

if they get too scared playing a horror game they'll call you into the room and make you sit with them and be scared too :P

you guys have this sixth sense, when something is wrong, you just... know. ran's upset? you don't even have to talk before you're already hugging him. you're sad? he's leaving tommy's house right now because he can't explain it, there's just a disturbance in the force

whenever anyone asks how you guys met/how long you've been friends, he always sounds so proud when he says "oh, i've known them my whole life!"

y'all are so sweet i swear to god

[myfandomrambles]

C-PTSD & BPD Thirteenth Doctor pt. 3

(Doctor Character Study part 3E.3) E.1, E.2

An analysis of The Doctor as having Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) along with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). If you read my ADHD & Autistic doctor posts you will notice some symptoms overlap mostly with impulsivity. I chose to put C-PTSD and BPD as one post because symptom overlap is strong, and the disorders are highly comorbid

[Thirteenth Doctor will be in 3 parts due to length. Find the whole thing on AO3]

13th Doctor 3: Relationships, Grief, Neurodivergence Overlap & Conclusion

Her struggles with agitation, anxiety, hypervigilance, identity issues and her alienation from those close to her directly affect her relationships. These relationships are very hard for Thirteen, she cares very much but has a disjointed affect and struggles to take in information related to social connections. To some degree, this overlaps with her other neurodivergence. (TV: The Woman Who Fell to Earth, TV: Arachnids In The UK, TV: Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror, TV: Fugitive of The Judoon, TV: Can You Hear Me, TV: Eve of The Daleks, & Comic: A Little Help From My Friends)

The Doctor still shows a need for connection and to combat abandonment fears. But her continuous struggle with letting them in. In TV: The Woman Who Fell to Earth she attempts to leave without having any of her companions with her. Not openly inviting people who share a stressful event with The Doctor to become companions.  In TV: Arachnids in The UK we see how she is still anxious to have them come along, even if she clearly was saddened by being alone and then happy to be invited to go with Yaz for tea and them wanting to come with her. 

“Doctor: Proper goodbye this time.

Ryan: About that.

Graham: Do we have to? You see, Doc, the thing about grief is it needs time. I don't want to sit around my house waiting for it to go away, ‘cos that house is full of Grace and it makes it so much harder. But, er, being with you and seeing all these things out there, it really helps.

Doctor: What about you?

Ryan: Do you really think I want to go back to working in that warehouse? No way.

Doctor: Yaz, you wanted to come home.

Yasmin: I know. I love my family, but they also drive me completely insane. I want more. More of the universe. More time with you. You're like the best person I've ever met.

Ryan: You're pretty awesome.

Graham: You're all right, I suppose.

Doctor: I can't guarantee that you're going to be safe.

Yasmin: We know.

Doctor: Do you? Really? Cos when I pull that lever, I'm never quite sure what's going to happen.

Ryan: That's okay.

Doctor: You're not going to come back as the same people that left here.

Graham: But that's all right. I think that's good.

Doctor: Be sure. All of you, be sure.”

It's easy to see how this relates to previous Doctors who lost many companions in upsetting endings even if they ended up okay in the long way round. But those losses and Grace dying make inviting people to go with her anxiety provoking, even if she loves having them with her. 

Her need for connection and anxiety when alone even when she has been struggling with connection can be seen in In TV: Can You Hear Me we see her consider jumping in time to be able to be with her friends instead of staying with her anxiety and loneliness. She also continues trying to show off while on her own. Showing off her knowledge and prowess as a hero I believe supports The Doctor’s egoic state and is a way to push down her anxiety. (TV: Kerblam!, TV: The Witchfinders, TV: Spyfall pt1, TV: Praxeus, TV: Can You Hear Me, TV: Village of The Angels, TV: The Vanquishers, TV: Legend of The Sea Devils, TV: Power of The Doctor, Prose: Molten Heart, Prose: The Secret in Vault 13 & Comic: New Beginnings )

In Comic: Hidden Human History the group ends up involved in a time situation connected to a podcast which taught people about history. When they end up in places where the companions know about it before The Doctor notices she becomes slightly grumpy and Yaz and Ryan note that she is jealous of the podcast. This I believe references the way The Doctor generally wants to be admired and how being able to guide them through history is how she seeks connection. 

The Doctor feels a responsibility for her companions. Examples show through in many moments where she puts herself between her companions and the person trying to hurt them or tries to be alone to fix the problem by herself. (TV: The Woman Who Fell to Earth, TV: Arachnids In The UK, TV: Kerblam!, TV: Resolution, TV: The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos, TV: It Takes You Away, TV: Orphan 55, TV: The Haunting Villa Diodati, TV: Ascension of The Cybermen, TV: The Timeless Children, Prose: Combat Magicks & Comic: Old friends)

Ryan Sinclair and The Doctor become friends saying as much in TV: Revolution of The Daleks

“Ryan: So, when we're done with this Dalek problem, you find out about your own life. Confront the new, or the old. And then everything will be all right.

Doctor: Will it?

Ryan: No doubt. What?

Doctor: Thank you, Ryan, for being my friend.

Ryan: Thank you for being mine.

Doctor: Always”

This scene shows their affection for each other, another example is Thirteen telling Ryan’s dad off for him missing Grace’s funeral when she knows Ryan wanted him to be there. This scene shows growth in Ryan being more open with people, something he learned through the courage and compassion travelling with The Doctor brought out of him. The comments Ryan makes have a  good portion, reminding The Doctor change is inevitable and not always bad. But him telling her that everything will be alright feels a bit hollow as we know It won’t be okay, not during any of Thirteen’s subsequent stories. Even when we get to Fifteen he is willing to acknowledge the facts of their history but feels they are all alone. And we know adventures and traumas never really stop for The Doctor. However It shows Ryan’s empathy, kindness and willingness to help friends, which are part of his motivation for leaving the TARDIS. 

Graham O’brien and Thirteen have an interesting connection in the sense that Graham is one of the older companions. Most of the companions start travelling with The Doctor in their teens and twenties, making the way he viewed The Doctor a bit different than many of the younger companions. They share the trait of being grandparents and having lost partners. To some extent Graham does see her as a fully adult in a way he doesn’t with the other companions. An example is during TV: Can You Hear Me where he tries to seek emotional support from The Doctor which she struggles to return. By the end of his time as a companion he clearly loves travelling, adventure and new places. He only stays because he loves Ryan and won’t let him be alone, a trait that I believe Thirteen does respect, and they share a sweet moment. 

“ Graham: we do get Aliens in Sheffield”

One of the most core relationships Thirteen has is with Yasmin Khan. Yaz spent the most time out of any of the companions or ‘fam'. She is with Thirteen from the first moments till the start of Thirteen’s regeneration into her next body. They are very good at working together as time goes on being able to be in tandem. Yaz gains a lot of self-assuredness, changes in her goals and even uses phrases like ‘result’ (TV: Praxeus). The Doctor shows her care for Yaz, teaching her to fly the TARDIS and giving her the hologram when they get separated (TV: The Halloween Apocalypse & TV: Survivors of The Flux)  Yaz does her best to keep The Doctor on level with her and not hiding or lying but never loses her belief in The Doctor. This ends with Yaz saving The Doctor's life. (TV: Power of The Doctor)

Why they do have a tight bond this relationship often falters when The Doctor is in her worst headspace. Her anxiety, agitation and tendency to hold her emotions come out as manipulative behaviours.

“Yasmin: What are you doing?

Doctor: Checking all systems for malfunctions. Also, quick MOT check on my mind. Had a little glitch earlier.

Yasmin: What sort of glitch? You didn't mention it.

Doctor: You know what, Yaz? I don't mention everything.

Yasmin: No kidding.

Doctor: Are you being mardy?

Yasmin: What sort of glitch?

Doctor: A glitchy glitch. What does it matter?

Yasmin: Because I thought we were friends.

Doctor: We are friends.

Yasmin: Then why won't you let me in? What's going on with you?

Doctor: Nothing's going on with me.

Yasmin: Don't lie.

Doctor: Have we not had a good time together? Since Ryan and Graham left, have I not taken you to amazing places?

Yasmin: Of course, but...

Doctor: I thought I was showing you experiences of a lifetime.

Yasmin: You're hiding something about him [Karvanista]. About why you tracked him down in the first place. Tell me.”

(TV: The Halloween Apocalypse)

The love The Doctor has with Yaz is often threatened by these behaviours. Telling someone who's upset with you that they should be happy since you have done good things together invalidates emotions and perceptions. Yaz is rightfully upset here. Even though Yaz does love travelling with The Doctor it appears to make Yaz feel very left out. There is the above reference to lying but it is very clear that The Doctor lies as a protective measure so she never has to let herself feel. 

Their romantic tension is slow and stressful for both of them. Yaz is afraid and won’t face her emotions, not even fully accepting the connection is romantic. Yaz does start to notice they are special to each other commenting she has a similar feeling as another person in romantic love (TV: The Haunting Villa Diodati) They are forced to look at their feelings by Dan Lewis. (TV: Eve of The Daleks) Dan had lived for a long time with Yaz both with and separate from The Doctor making their connection stronger than even his relationship to The Doctor. Dan notices Yaz’s feelings kindly, gently offering that she should understand herself. Whereas with Thirteen he is much more of a ‘don’t play with her feelings’ style comment. He knows The Doctor is aware and is choosing not to do anything about it. 

An interesting connected situation can be read in the Comic: A Little Help from My Friends The Doctor goes back in time to where Martha and Ten are in the 60s waiting for an option to come for them to escape. Thirteen can with time watch that Ten was being unfair and overall not treating Martha well. She can see the infatuation Martha is experiencing while refusing to notice Yaz’s and her hiding things from her companions again. 

The Doctor promises more than once that Yaz and her will be able to communicate about what happened, on a beach, since TV: The Vanquishers. An above-mentioned quote from that episode has her promising to tell her everything, The Doctor wants to fix a lot of the loneliness and alienation she had fallen into when trying to cope with her trauma, a behaviour which started in the beginning but only got worse over time. 

The Doctor tells Yaz she wants her to stay but that they won’t be able to have their relationship exist in a new type.The major parts of this conversation appear in TV: Legend of The Sea Devils. 

“Doctor: ...you know what I said earlier about not being a bad date? Well, dates are not something I really do, you know. I mean, I used to. Have done. And if I was going to, believe me, it'd be with you. I think you're one of the greatest people I've ever known. Including my wife.

Yasmin: Your what?

Doctor: Ah. Wasn't going to mention that. It was a long time ago. I was a different man back then. But the point is, if it was going to be anyone, it'd be you. But I can't.

Yasmin: Why not?

Doctor: Because at some point time always runs out...”

&

“Yasmin: You okay?

Doctor: Yaz, I can't fix myself to anything, anywhere or anyone. I've never been able to. That's what my life is.

Yasmin: Yeah, of course.

Doctor: Not because I don't want to because I might. But if I do fix myself to somebody I know, sooner or later, it'll hurt.

Yasmin: My nani says, courage is knowing something will hurt and doing it anyway. Mind you, she also said it's the definition of stupidity.

Doctor: Can we just live in the present? Of what we have, while we still have it?”

There would be more kindness in this if she more explicitly gave Yaz a chance to leave. It also shows the kind of thinking Thirteen has, she already loves Yaz and finds her attractive, but can’t bring herself to make a more clear declaration of commitment. I think this comes from the trauma of what happened with people like River Song as well as her dealing with her trauma in a way that she doesn’t facilitate relationships. Her knowing this regeneration will end soon due to the prophecy of Time I believe also fuels her not wanting to do anything new and just enjoying what she has left. The fear is palpable in Thirteen and it causes her and Yaz hurt.  

It’s perfectly understandable and fair of her to say she can’t be in a romantic relationship, no one owes anyone romance. But the way she goes about it puts Yaz in a difficult situation, knowing your friend does return your feelings but can’t do it and still wants to have the same relationship you had before the sharing of feelings. Yaz is not very put off by this as they continue travelling and she goes out of her way to save The Doctor when The Master attacks. It’s clear Yaz is okay with it, but I believe it still shows difficulty communicating feelings and how fear is part of what keeps The Doctor’s relationships struggling. (TV: Power of The Doctor)

Yaz and The Doctor both deal with trauma from their childhoods. Both what The Doctor Can’t remember (TV: Timeless Child & TV: Survivors of the Flux) and the alienation The Doctor does remember from her childhood (TV: The Empty Child, TV: The Girl in The Fireplace, TV: Listen, TV: Heaven Sent/Hell Bent, Prose: Power to the People, Audio: Must-See TV). We also have before Thirteen the myriad traumas when she was young in timelord years. Having companions die of others taken from them, being exposed to violence and whatever version of why they had to leave Gallifrey. 

Yaz references that she dealt with severe bullying and anxiety as a teen. Understanding how trauma and loss can make you physically ill in TV: The Witchfinders, 

“Yasmin: I think I know what it is that's making you sick. I had it at my school, where I am from. When Izzy Flint turned the whole class against me. Every day I'd wake up, feeling this... dread. Fear.

Willa: How did you get rid of it?

Yasmin: I didn't. I just took it, had the year from hell. When I say hell, I don't literally mean hell, I mean it was really awful. And I told myself when I got bigger, I'd stand up to the Izzy Flints of this world.”

They also have similar experiences when it comes to facing both having a history of running, and depending on how you read their stories, suicidal thoughts. (TV: Twice Upon A Time & TV: Can You Hear Me) While not directly discussing the need to be 'anywhere but here' animates both of their experiences of being in the TARDIS. Connecting threads of their arc include both the alienation Thirteen often felt from her friends causing friction and the happy moments like when they are reunited in TV: The Vanquishers and Yaz carrying Thirteen back to the ship in TV: Power of The Doctor.

The Doctor and The Master always have a complex and dramatic connection and that is true during Thirteen’s era with Dhawan!Master. They start with a lie and a ruse on The Master’s part which is a common Master behaviour, he’s having some degree of fun while Thirteen seems pretty over it. She is willing to act very cruelly to The Master who appears as an Indian to the Nazis. This happens after they have their requisite back-and-forth about their history. 

“Doctor: When does all this stop for you? The games, the betrayals, the killing?

Master: Why would it stop? I mean, how else would I get your attention? When did you last go home?

Doctor: What do you mean?

Master: I took a trip home, to Gallifrey, hiding in its little bubble universe. Not sure how to describe what I found. Pulverised? Burned? Nuked? All of the above. Someone destroyed it. Our home, razed to the ground. Everyone killed. Everything burned.

Doctor: You're lying”

This conversation is normal Master/Doctor back and forth, it is interesting how virulent they are with each other in TV: Spyfall pt2 compared to the way Twelve and Missy interact. The most coherent view is that due to not knowing Missy wanted to be with him, The Doctor could feel abandoned. The Master claims to want to kill The Doctor during TV: Spyfall pt2 but then leaves a message for The Doctor to find, they both know at this point either one of them dying fully isn’t likely. They always find some way to survive. This sets up The Master's part in the Timeless Child. 

During TV: Can You Hear Me we have the legend of these two space creatures who are eternally linked and always come back together and cause mayhem when they are there and when they leave. I believe this has an analogous sentiment to The Doctor and The Master due to both being linked so strongly it can never fully be split and the fact that they fight with each other across planets often leaving pain behind them. 

When The Master brings The Doctor to Gallifrey she originally treats The Master as more of a nuisance before the more distressed anger. The Master attempts to hurt her and damage her sense of self. He is angry about what was done to him, but now there are no Galifreians to take it out on; he directs it at The Doctor for the crime of being part of him. This is interesting as The Doctor and Master over time have linked their sense of self to each other. But this time there is also a power imbalance, they are no longer both renegades The Doctor is now special. The fact that the kind of special she is came with horrendous abuse doesn’t seem to compute for The Master. He fundamentally believes that he can break her and make her hurt. In some ways The Master is correct, he did cause her pain and confusion. But The Doctor won’t show it to The Master, they can’t. Even if as explained above, her identity was shaken by the Timeless Child story. 

We see some of his thoughts in TV: The Timeless Children:

“Master: I do believe you're appealing to my better nature. And we both know I don't have one. I'm not going to help them, and neither are you. And the history between us does mean something. It's the rage and pain in my hearts. I'm sending you deep into the Matrix to understand the truth of Gallifrey and of the Time Lords. Brace yourself. This is going to hurt.”

&

“Master: This is no time to be sleeping. Is it hurting, Doctor? I hope it's hurting because it really hurt me.

Doctor: It's all lies. None of this is the truth.

Master: For the first time in my lives, I can honestly say every word is true.

Doctor: I know my life. I know... I know who I am.

Master: No, you don't. You never have. Your life has been hidden from you.”

&

“Master: Wake up. I know you're broken, but it's all over now.

Doctor: What do you mean?

Master: When I said I killed everyone here...”

&

“Master: What have you got left anyway? You don't even know your own life. Look how low I have brought you. I have won, Doctor. You may have made me, but I have destroyed you. Become death. Become me. Come on. Come on, come on!”

(She lowers the grenade.)

Master: For just a moment there, I thought maybe. Argh. Oh, Doctor, the universe will suffer for your weakness. I'll make sure of it.”

The Master can lure The Doctor in TV: Power of The Doctor into what he wants to happen by introducing himself, the Daleks and Cybermen, something The Doctor couldn't refuse. She does her best to manage him, letting UNIT help and giving Yaz a weapon. It’s pretty intense for both of them. 

His grand plan here is to try and take her very identity from her. Breaking and suppressing her consciousness, leaving him more himself than The Doctor as their consciousness is not melding. You also have the Cyberium as a factor in the way The Master is not acting coherently with that much fracturing. But he does kill her, leaving The Doctor’s body alone and stealing the TARDIS. The Doctor has to decide to not give in to letting her mind be taken with the help of her past regenerations trying to get her to not jump into a symbolic pit. 

Yaz and Vinder are able to save The Doctor with the help of a new hologram that Thirteen gave her friends so they could receive a form of consciousness should she be unable to help because of death. The use of this and her trust in Yaz being able to fly the TARDIS and pull the best parts of The Doctor in leadership. 

The hologram was also given to Tegan Jovanka and Ace Mcshane. If you read these versions of the Hologram having The Doctor’s current memories then she was unnecessarily mean to Ace. Ace was not the person who was in the wrong for most of their situations, it was very much Seven's fault as he was much older and he even references that he thinks of her as their child. Giving some kind of back and forth that they both made bad choices would have been much kinder and more realistic. Now for pure characterization, it’s not inherently wrong, The Doctor tends to not see her relationships clearly. 

The Doctor's obsessive pain about The Master leads to her death as she stops to watch The Master die. This attack from The Master and not the forced regeneration ends up killing her. 

Connected to her relationships, is her experiences of grief. Her early time is highly steeped in loss. At the end of TV: Twice Upon a Time she lost most of what she loved. Once we get to TV: The Woman Who Fell to Earth she then is separated from her TARDIS which is her home and best friend. Of course, then we have Grace die on her watch, The Doctor does feel guilty to some degree and feels upset about her death. The Doctor stays for the funeral, putting off leaving and talks with these people she’s connected with on her loss and grief and home.

“Yasmin: Have you got family?

Doctor: No. Lost them a long time ago.

Ryan: How do you cope with that?

Doctor: I carry them with me. What they would've thought and said and done. I make them a part of who I am. So even though they're gone from the world, they're never gone from me.

Graham: That's the sort of thing Grace would have said.

Yasmin: So everything we saw, everything we've lied to people about, is this normal for you?

Doctor: I'm just a traveller. Sometimes I see things need fixing, I do what I can. Except right now, I'm a traveller without a ship. I've stayed too long. I should get back to finding my Tardis.”

The Doctor can relate to other people who have lost a lot of things which can sometimes come out as frustration but is still a part of her experiences. Seen in episodes like in TV: It Takes You Away;

“Doctor:...Cos the Solitract doesn't want a husband, you want a whole universe. Someone who has seen it all, and that's me. I've lived longer, seen more, loved more and lost more. I can share it all with you. Anything you want to know about what you never had. Cos he's an idiot with a daughter who needs him. So let him go and I will give you everything.”

During TV: Demons of The Punjab we see how she can connect with Prem and the Thijariand in the history of strong loss of home and complicated interplay with the people they do love. Self-sacrifice as part of grieving and loving also connects to The Doctor. 

In Comic: Old Friends she has a collection of items in her TARDIS that seem to relate to previous friends and adventures. After viewing the call for help she had received from the Corsair asking for help. This incident (TV: The Doctor's Wife) hurt them greatly as he realised there were no more Time Lords and that the body of their friend had been torn for parts. Remembering these events pushes her to agree to an adventure with the Corsair.

Thirteen is also neurodivergent in that she has ADHD & Autism. There are some definite overlaps. Social difficulty, sensitised stress system, anxiety, impulse control, fear of rejection and others. Generally feeling different from other people and having thoughts considered weird is quite common for people on the autism spectrum. A moment that illustrates the way being neurodivergent affects her social experience is in TV: Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror

“Tesla: You're an inventor!

Doctor: I have my moments.

Tesla: I knew it! So you... so you can understand how it feels, you know, when you have an idea and... and to make it real. I don't think there's any greater thrill.

Doctor: I couldn't agree more.

Tesla: You... you spoke of aliens. People, you know, laugh at the very idea.

Doctor: But not you.

Tesla: Well, apparently I'm not like other people. It can be difficult, you know, to feel no one else sees the world the way you do. It's like you're, er...

Doctor: Out of place.”

Her being alone in how she processes the world is shown in Tesla as also being out of place in his life, due to most likely being neurodivergent. This is deeply important in examining her character as it very effectively points out that the alienation Thirteen feels comes from her trauma, her neurodivergence and the toxic stress being different from those around her.

Thirteen will have dissociative and shutdown experiences. (TV: The Woman Who Fell to Earth, TV: Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror, TV: Ascension of The Cybermen, TV: Once, Upon Time, & Prose: Combat Magicks) This is seen strongly in TV: The Ghost Monument, when she can’t keep just keep moving forward at the apparent loss of her TARDIS she shuts down and gives in to a shutdown space even when the companions haven’t reached there first. After traumatic instances, shutdown tends to follow a fight response, like in TV: Fugitive of The Judoon and TV: The Timeless Children.

This dissociative factor interplays with hypervigilance and can play out in The Doctor in having the ability to function well in many stressful situations but it is very hard to maintain the social situations that would be best for her and her friends.

The regeneration for Thirteen is a relatively calm and peaceful one. Closes to Four, Nine or Eleven’s regenerations when it comes across as bitter-sweet. While wrapped up in so much trauma dealing with The Master, Daleks and Cybermen she takes it more in stride than others, wishing she had more time but moving to a calmer state making better final memories for her and Yaz.

“Doctor: Why's the Cloister Bell ringing?

Yasmin: Doctor, look at your hand.

Doctor: No. No. That's not right. I need more time. I want more time! Ah! You know what this means, right? Yeah? It's all right. It's all right, Yaz. One last trip. Where would you choose? What flavour ice cream?

[scene shift]

Yasmin: How many times do you think you've saved Earth?

Doctor: I've lost count. But look at it. How could you not love a planet like that?

Yasmin: I don't want it to end.

Doctor: A wise person once said to me, goodbyes only hurt because what came before was so special. Oh, and it's been so special. You, and Graham, and Ryan, and Dan. Nobody else got to be us. Nobody else got to live our days. Nobody. And my hearts are so full of love of all of you. Oh, I have loved being with you, Yaz. And I have loved being me. I think I need to do this next bit alone.

Yasmin: Let's not say goodbye.”

& 

“Doctor: Oh, the blossomiest blossom. That's the only sad thing. I want to know what happens next. Right, then. Doctor Whoever-I'm-about-to-be. Tag, you're it.”

Choosing to go one by herself comes across as a bit positive in choosing to let Yaz remember her as her and not create more stress on them. And a bit of sadness on her part, while not afraid to regenerate, I think she still feels a bit lost. 

Thirteen is a very interesting look at C-PTSD due to her showing more than one reaction over time in a more drastic way then Ten or Eleven. The fact that she appears female also causes some watchers to not be willing to view as fully ‘The Doctor’.  People paradoxically going from seeing her as too anxious and flighty [flight response] to disliking her level of anger and coldness [fight response]. 

She is a version of The Doctor who is more openly anxious while being one of the most closed-off one's when dealing with her deeper thoughts and a lot of the complexity of their psychological state. Thirteen in the early episodes it is often characterised by the fandom as being ‘healthy’ and healed, mainly due to her not having the same visible and expressed scars from the Time War. But this analysis hopefully shows that she always had clear trauma symptoms; hypervigilance, anxiety, identity issues, grief and social difficulty.

When going through her arc there are many moments where they are subjected to trauma, starting with the loss of Grace tied to her and ending with dealing with The Master and other long-term enemies. Understanding that she already had trauma as part of her core along with the layered new trauma is a full view of the characters. Looking at Thirteen through this lens is important to be able to see her motivations and everything she does.

[notf1obsessed]

A Little Flirting Hurt No One (Charlos): you can find the full fic on here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55395409

Chapter 13: butterflies

Charles tried to avoid Carlos as much as possible in the upcoming weeks, too embarrassed of what he had done in Canada to face him. It didn't help though considering they were teammates and had to act like it. It also didn't help that they were also meant to be dating.

Not a very good way to keep it up.

He thought about playing it cool and just saying it was for the plan, and the fact he was drunk. But he just couldn't come to terms with that.

Carlos on the other hand, seemed totally fine. He made talk with Charles whenever he could, sat near him on the plane, talked with him during the debriefs. Charles envied how he could move on from things so easily. But the truth was, Carlos was burning on the inside. Every time he saw Charles, his stomach did backflips. Everything about Charles just suddenly seemed so..

Attractive.

The way he smiled. The way he laughed. The way his hair looked as he arrived in the paddock. The way his eyes would glow under the sun. The was his dimples curved into his face. The way he spoke. The way he-

"Right and Carlos you'll be starting first," Silvia's voice brought him out of his trance. They had to film a media video here in Silverstone- though they weren't sure why the UK would be an interesting place to film media for. It was a c2 challenge - which they had gotten quite used to - with the game never have I ever.

Carlos thought for a moment about his options before speaking. He decided if he was going to be tortured with media, might as well have some fun with it, "Never have I ever blacked out at a party before."

Charles felt a flush creep up his neck at the mention of the party, but he fought it back and put a finger down.

"Never have I ever..," Charles thought as well, he decided to return the same energy, "Kissed one of my friends sober."

Carlos's eyes widened for a brief second, the memories of Charles's lips on his. They felt so soft, so warm, so- he put a finger down and began with the next question, "Never have I ever had to carry someone home from a club."

Charles raised an eyebrow. His eyes grew wide as he saw Carlos put a finger down. Wait- had Carlos really carried Charles home. No- it must of been someone else, surely.

Right?

"Right I think we have enough content for this one, thank you everyone!" Silvia's words broke Charles's train of thought. Probably for the better.

They part their ways, both (mainly Charles) a bit too flushed to speak to each other now.

————————————————————

There it is. Half a lap away from winning. Carlos's feet press harder on the throttle, gloves dripping with sweat. Instead of the car speeding up, it slowed down. His eyes widened in panic as he saw the cars pass in front.

"what's happening," his voice came panicking through the radio.

"Mechanical issue sainz, we need to retire."

His grip around the steering wheel hardened, parking the car in the pit lane near him. His eyes stung but he fought back the tears. He got out of the car, not daring to face anyone. He didn't even take his helmet off before making his way to his driver's room. He swallowed the thick lump in his throat, shutting the door behind him.

He wasn't even able to make it to the massage table before he collapsed, tears streaming down his face.

Why was everything like this.

Why did every win have to be thrown away by some issue.

Why was everyone around him so perfect and him rubbish at everything.

He finally pulled off the helmet, allowing him to breathe properly. He let his head fall back on the door, using as support.

"Carlos?" A soft voice interrupted his quiet sobbing.

Charles.

Carlos didnt respond.

"Can you let me in?"

No response.

Charles sighed, sliding his back down the door to be sat opposite Carlos. They stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, Carlos's hyperventilating the only sound in the air.

"Why am I like this," he blurted out.

Charles's brows furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"Why can't anything ever go my way," he broke into sobs, "Why is every win always out of my reach. Why is everyone around me so perfect. Why am I so rubbish. Why does every person I love never love me back."

Charles felt himself break at hearing his teammate in this condition, "Carlos you are not rubbish," he tried to offer the little comfort that he could, "and you are not to blame for what the team fucks up."

Carlos's sobs stopped for a moment, his shoulders relaxing slightly against the door frame. Charles thought he had managed to break the wall between them, but no longer did Carlos relax did he tense up again.

"Can you go?" Asked Carlos, head buried between his knees.

Charles sighed, not being able to comfort his friend. Alas, he did as he was told, leaving Carlos a mess in his driver's room.

So much for opening up.

_________________________

The next time Charles would see him would be in Maranello a week later. Charles had arrived to the factory in a much better shape than last time. Glancing around the factory to find Carlos, he caught his eye and he seemed to be fine. He was chatting with one of the engineers and he seemed.. perfectly normal? While Charles did envy Carlos's ability to move on from things quickly, it didn't seem like this was moving on.

It was bottling up.

He didn't want to ask Carlos as he made it clear at the track that he's not quite trustful of Charles yet.

Or at least isn't ready to open up yet.

It was 2 weeks until the summer break, which meant 2 weeks until the cruise. Something Charles and Carlos were not very keen on going to.    

Debrief ended and they were on another (this time shorter) flight over to Hungary.

________________________

The race went okay for Ferrari, ending with Charles coming P4 and Carlos coming P5. Carlos played with the radio wires for the majority of the video, Charles doing most of the talking. They finished filming their video for the fans and went back to the motorhomes to pack up and go home.

On Carlos's return, he felt a ring in his pocket. Opening it to see who texted him, he groaned at the message from Lando.

Lando: k remember the cruise

Lando: well i bought the tickets and its from the 6th to the 9th in Monaco.

Lando: cya there

Carlos: thx ill be sure to tell Charles

He in-fact was not looking forward to telling Charles they were going to be stuck together on a ship for 2 nights.

But he did, and Charles's reaction was not very better than his, tensing up at the mention of it.

"So how do we meet, if we want t0 keep up the couple illusion," asked Carlos, taking a seat in Charles's drivers room (knowing it was the only time they were going to be able to talk about it).

"You can come back with me to Monaco if you want, I have a guest room," suggested Charles, fidgeting with his fingers.

"It's okay I can take a flight over the night before, I'll just sleep when we get there," responded Carlos, "I'll just meet you at your apartment."

"Okay sounds good," said Charles, desperately wanting to end the conversation.

A bad idea since both of them had very limited knowledge of what they were actually going to do.

And that was very clear when Carlos arrived like a shit-wreck at Charles's apartment.

[itsclydebitches]

Continuing my perhaps delusional argument/hope that Ted permanently returning to Kansas is just a red herring, I was thinking about our references and callbacks this episode. Specifically, how they don't paint Kansas in a positive or unique light.

The Wizard of Oz pinball game is definitely the most on-the-nose nod to his return, yet in the scene itself Ted is literally refusing to play.

When we get a closeup on the machine we're shown Dorothy's house spinning out of control. That is, a moment when she leaves Kansas for the bright world of Oz, not the ruby slippers of her return.

Similarly, Beard loses his game before Ted walks over. The ending of the Wicked Witch is one wherein Dorothy (Ted) does not go back home.

(I'm not entirely sure what to do with this one yet, but having Mae quote "This Be the Verse" is certainly A Choice. Though I think the overall message -- people, specifically parents, will inevitably hurt their kids -- is an uplifting and very relevant argument within Ted Lasso's heartfelt context -- ergo we should acknowledge that we'll never be perfect while still striving to improve -- but that last line? Oof. "Get out early as you can / And don't have kids yourself"? That's not the proposed solution I'd expect for an episode that was sending Ted back to his son for good. Obviously Ted already has Henry, but it may be significant that Mae eschews a generic 'You can do it!' argument for a far more nuanced and harder to swallow conclusion, perhaps one that heralds Ted's controversial decision to stay separated from Henry for at least part of the year.)

(Also let's toss in the fact that Dottie uses a football metaphor -- not American football -- to describe how Ted needs to parent: sometimes you lose, sometimes you win, mostly you just tie, and all you can do it keep playing.)

Finally, we've got references to both BBQ sauce and sunflowers via Ted's WiFi password and the bread Dottie bakes him, Ted's "favorite."

Half a season ago these would have been straightforward references to Kansas, positive ones at that. However, post-S3E6 (literally titled "Sunflowers") Ted has both of these beloved objects tied to the UK instead. He enjoys the beauty of Van Gogh's Sunflowers in the Amsterdam museum and finds a BBQ sauce so good that it inspires him to (hopefully!) win it all in his English sport.

It might just be me reading into things because I'm looking for my preferred ending to the series... but also I don't think I am because it's weird that Kansas is continually framed as a negative this season. Ted is still super awkward with Michelle. Her new boyfriend is kinda awful and likewise makes him incredibly uncomfortable (understandably). The Wizard of Oz references aren't targeting the happy aspects of the story, or even the parts about going home. The symbolic references to Ted's beloved state (sunflowers, BBQ sauce, the little green army men) have all been integrated into his life here. We get a whole episode about how once Ted learns to focus on Henry instead of Michelle, Henry has a fantastic time living in London. Hell, this episode opens with Ted enthusiastically greeting everyone he passes on his walk, a beloved member of the community, a staple of this town... and then his mood turns sour when he hits his Kansas-sprung mom.

Obviously Ted is undergoing some last-minute growth when it comes to being a father to Henry (and healing the rift with Dottie), but I think Ted's in-universe improvement is misleading, implying that because he may think he needs to return to Kansas, that's actually how the story is going to end. If that were the end-goal though, I would expect the subtext to have a more hopeful, optimistic feel to it; something that not just implies Ted's return, but argues why he would want to outside of Henry.

If none of that is relevant... that's going to be even worse for me than Ted just going back to Kansas. A Kansas ending framed as a positive is far from my preference, but it's (arguably) a strong conclusion to Ted's journey. A Kansas ending after all these implied negatives both isn't my preference and feels like more objectively bad writing.

[b0amagination]

Tastes of Whumptober: Day 16

Featuring the same characters as Day 12! Not required viewing to understand this one, as it's more their origins. I've placed the story in the UK so apologies for any inaccuracies as I'm an American!

Content warnings for: alcohol consumption, smoking, implied addiction to both aforementioned, drunk driving, motorcycle accident, thoughts of death, and brief suicidal ideation. Stay safe!

Wound Cleaning

He knew he was too far out of it. Too dizzy, too tired, too weak, too drunk to drive back home.

But he’d stumbled to his bike, clutching his side and his cheek, running like a coward. When it roared to life beneath him, he found some forlorn spark of confidence.

Then somewhere on the side streets it had started raining. And in the forest between towns it came down harder. Then-

Fuck, his head hurt. 

Freezing mud clung to him as he rolled over despite the persistent warmth in his chest. When had it gotten so cold? The hazy shadow of his bike lay several meters away, its headlights shining off into the woods, engine still purring into a puddle. His phone was still in the tailpack, he’d call someone to pick him up… or 999… they couldn’t tell him he had it coming. 

A mirthless laugh covered a worse sound as he pushed himself up, dragging aching limbs toward the motorcycle. His left leg was fucking killing him.

A memory of skidding across asphalt, crumbling concrete tearing at skin.

He just needed to grab his phone.The leather bag hanging off the seat wasn’t yet submerged and he let out a sigh of relief, reaching in. 

Empty. Oh god.

“Nonononono…”

A bloody hand plunged underwater, searching until- the phone. It was dripping water from every opening, his fingers slipped against the buttons, pressing frantically as a black screen stared back. 

“Shit! God, no!”

He screamed and flung the useless machine against the ground, collapsing with it into incoherent sobs. If he got back onto the bike in this condition he’d crash somewhere worse. But laying here was a death sentence unless someone else felt bad enough to stop for him.

Ha. Funny. 

Well, if he was lucky… there. His trusty lighter and cigs were still zipped up safely in his pocket, one left in the whole package. Fate was one sexy, sexy man. He’d have to do him a favor in the afterlife if he made it that far.

“Cheers.” To nobody in particular, of course. It took shaking fingers a few flicks to activate muscle memory and spring up a little flame. A long, deep drag soothed his nerves.

Not a bad way to go out. Not bad at all. Tequila would’ve paired nicely with the smoke.

Headlights turned onto the road and he sighed, holding out a forlorn hand. At best, he’d be splashed as they whizzed by. At worst, they’d put him out of his misery. 

Or maybe those two should be switched. Either way, they wouldn’t… stop… but… they were slowing down. And he heard the doors unlock when the vehicle shifted into park. And those lights were making his head pound.

“Bloody hell! Is that you, Payge?”

“Depends who’s askin’,” he mumbled through a mouthful of smoke. “You gonna bring me in to the station?”

“Christ…” They muttered to themself and opened the trunk of their car and pulled something out before walking over. The headlights stayed on, acting as a spotlight. “C’mere, Payge. Can you move?” 

“Nicolai…?”

“The one and only. Come on.”

Nicolai was… how would he describe them? A friend of a friend of sorts. But maybe they were more of a friend, as of late. Did they even live over this way? Where the hell had he ended up?

Payge groaned and pushed himself up, missing a few times and slipping down. Nicolai’s hands reached out to help pull him over. 

“You smell like smoke. And booze.”

“Here. Just a bit, ‘ts my last one.” He offered the cigarette and they pinched it between thumb and index, took a drag, and blew it straight into his face. 

“The hell’s that meant to be?!” Payge coughed.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much.” They handed it back and opened a well stocked first aid kit, picking up a cloth and pouring some water out from their water bottle. “Where are you hurt?”

“You askin’ about the bar fight or the crash?” His words were slurring into each other again. 

“Payge…” they shook their head, concern coloring their features. “I told you to stop fighting.”

“And I wasn’t letting him go home w’thout a shiner.” They stopped arguing and simply stared until he softened. “Got punched in the cheek, thrown around a bit… I think my leg’s bleedin’.”

They brought the cloth to his face first, wiping away grit, and he hissed when they found broken skin over his cheekbone. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a bottle of antiseptic, I’ve just gotta clean you up first. You shouldn’t be riding in this weather in the first place.”

Nicolai moved to his abdomen, touching over the hem of his shirt and a frantic, uncoordinated hand pushed it back down. 

“Stop, you don’t needa… just call an ambulance. You shouldn’ hafta do all this.”

“Nonsense. I can’t leave your side not knowing what happens. Let me help.”

Payge hesitated before relenting, letting them pull up his shirt and inspect the bruise surely forming over his ribs. Once satisfied they moved to look at his legs, but noticed blood dripping down his arm.

“Your hands-?” 

“Just scraped ‘em.”

But they wouldn’t stand for that, taking him roughly by the wrist and cleaning the mud off to reveal harsh scratches from the pavement.

“Other one, Payge.”

“Lemme finish,” he gestured with his half-smoked cigarette.

“Give me that!” Nicolai snatched it right out of his loose grip and snuffed it out, grinding the butt into the pavement before tossing it into the puddle.

“Hey! Wha’s your problem, mate?!” Genuine anger snuck into his voice and Payge finally sat up, grabbing at their shirt and shaking them. “You gotta nother pack’a Marlboros hanging around or what, Nic?” 

A hand shot out and held him by the neck, and his grip dropped away in shock. 

“You’re gonna pass of infection if you don’t let me do my job. Calm the hell down.” The lack of response sounded like resignation, so they cleaned the hand that had now left a stain on their shirt. “Don’t let those touch the mud again, you understand?”

A meek nod. He allowed Nicolai to roll up his pant leg but seethed when torn fibers tugged at the wound.

“I’ll go quickly. Hold your breath.” And they ripped it off as promised, causing a long, drawn out keen. Wow. 

“Th-thank you…”

Something stirred but they swallowed it down.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

A bit more water was poured onto the cloth before working it into the wound, despite jerks and half-aware cries. As the mud was washed away, the severity of the gash became apparent. Though it didn’t cut deep, it was… extensive. They pulled the first aid kit over and grabbed the roll of elastic bandages.

“Bite down on this. I promise you’ll need it.” They held it to Payge’s mouth and he accepted it, fear flashing across his face. “Just focus on that and you’ll be alright.”

A new cloth and a pause to trap his leg with their own, then Nicolai poured the antiseptic directly on the wound. 

“Fuuuuck!” 

They worked quickly, wiping it over and working it into each crevice. They couldn’t be too safe. And the whimpers… A clean cloth bandage wrapped around his calf and they pinned it in place. 

“A hand, please. Whichever I should start with.” They held their palm up, offering the choice, but Payge was still curled into himself. They sighed and grabbed the closest one.

“No, no it hurts too bad!” He cried, trying to speak around the roll of bandages. “Leave it, how it is jus’ leave it…”

The antiseptic didn’t need to be poured in such a volume, but maybe it was their reward for dealing with him.

“Aren’t you drunk? You shouldn’t be able to feel a thing,” they shrugged as he screamed. The only thing that mattered was the way he struggled thoroughly cleaning the wounds. The same routine repeated with his other hand, and they were both bandaged in the same way. 

“Right. Your face.” He flinched away at the soft dabs and the butterfly bandage placed over his cheek. “There. All done.”

“I still… still can’t drive m’self home…”

Nicolai shushed him, scooping his torso off the asphalt to sit him up. They removed his soiled biker jacket, throwing it in the trunk and exchanging it for a few towels. One went over the backseat and the other went around his shoulders when they picked him up bridal style, laying him down gently across the seats. 

“Th’ fuck…?”

“I’m driving you home.”

“But… my bike…”

“I’ll take care of it. After I take care of you.”

[whitewolf2759]

First Meeting-Chris alonso

Hey guys I hope you enjoy this one-shot, I have just started publishing my writing so there may be some mistakes and if you want to view more of my content I will place a link to my youtube below.

You had first been introduced to Chris by Street the both you were raised at the same orphanage until you had been adopted by a nice old couple, however you made sure to stay in contact as he was like a brother in everything but blood.

After being adopted you had moved to the UK which was actually were you were born and raised until the age of six where you had been adopted by couple that were bad parent and chose to leave you when on holiday in America.

You were conflicted about as the UK was where you born but it would make staying in contact with Street harder. After reaching 18 you had followed in your adopter fathers footstep’s and joined the army as a medic.

After just over 19 week of army training as well as 22 weeks of medic training I then served for 4 years doing 2 tours after which I decided to join the military police.

At the age of 29 I had been a member of the military police for 6 years however during this I continued staying in contact with Street. We told each other everything as we comforted each other at every low and celebrated every high, however what we spoke most about was his team and every little shenanigan they got up.

These conversation gelped me decide to take an offer to move to America and work as a liaison between the military police and swat as well as an onsite medic.

///

Hey Chris!" Street waved to me "Come meet someone!"

I put my weights down and jogged over.

"Chris, this is y/n who’s basically my sister. She's going to be working here at SWAT."

"I'm mostly going to be assisting Commander Hicks and helping teams with military based cases as well an injuries if needed. It's not as difficult as what you lot do" You said with shy smile and slight blush at seeing the state Chris is in.

Chris almost didn't even process what you said because she got lost in  your bright eyes and shy smile. Get a hold of yourself Chris.

"Nonsense, you'll be plenty of importance. Welcome to 20-David" Chris say’s with a welcoming smile and dusting of pink of her cheeks at getting distracted shaking your hand.

While the two of you were focused on each othet neither noticed Street watching you both with a raised eyebrow, knowing look in his eyes and smirk slowly rising on his face before hiding it before either of you noticed.

///

You have now be working a swat for a couple of days and Street had introduced you to the rest of the team, while working if you had time you would spend in getting to each other and you made sure to give any teasing material they had on Street to annoy him when he gets in your nerves.

Most of the time you would obviously hang out with Street however you and Chris had also spent a lot of time together. With the amount of time spent with each other you had learned a lot about the other, for example you had learned that Chris loved trying a lot of different activities and she had learned of you love of reading. During all of this your attraction to Chris continued growing, however it only took one event for you to ask her out.

///

 Chris and the team had just returned after taking down a gang’s drug operation and the all got a bit banged a few scratches and bruises, Chris had the biggest wound which was a shallow cut from a knife on her right side.

“Chris you should really had gone to the hospital in case you need stitches” Hondo said in serious but tired voice knowing it was useless trying to get Chris to go the hospital.

“It’s fine it barely grazed me, nothing that wont heal in few days” Chris said in a tired voice just wanting to clean up and get out of her gear.

Both Hondo and Street shared knowing it was useless trying to convince however as they walk into HQ Street spot’s you talking to Hick’s knowing how much you worry about the team he now knows how to get her wound looked at.

“Hey Y/N we’re back” Street say’s catching you attention you glance at them before finishing you conversation with Hick’s.

As you make you way towards them Chris focuses on you seeing your hug your form showing your perfect hourglass figure causing her to get into a trance.

While this is happening the rest of the team leave to take their gear off besides Hondo and Street who share a look and Street indicates to Hondo what his plan is.

“Hey guys heard about the operation hope you all didn’t hurt badly” You said in caring voice your still showing you British accent.

“We’re fine just a few bruises but Chris has a cut she should get checked at” Hondo says in a hopeful tone hoping Streets plan works.

“What, no Im-.”Chris says in a annoyed tone with a slight blush realising she got distracted and they were still going on about her wound, however before she could finish her sentence Street interupted.

“Chris didn’t want to go to hospital so we were hoping you would take a look” Street said giving Chris a knowing look as she shot him an annoyed one in return.

“Sure, Chris meet me in office aftet getting changed” You said leaving no room to argue as head to your office to get your med kit ready.

As you leave Chris watches you getting slightly hypnotised by the jeans hugging against your figure. After shacking her head she look towards Hondo and Street about to argue about what they just did but stopped as they look at her with knowing look’s having caught her so she heads to changing room with a light blush leaving behind the two smiling at her action.

///

30 minutes later Chris enters your office with tank top and jogger's hugging her form causing a slight blush to form on your cheek's before you tell her to sit on your desk as you get stuff to clean her wound.

Chris heads to sit on your desk with a slight smile on her face having caught your blush, a happy feeling filling her at the fact you find her attractive.

You sit on your chair in front of Chris and raise her top just below her breasts, blush returning when seeing her toned form. You start cleaning her wound apologising when she winces at the sting, while this happening you stay quite focusing on her wound while she tells you about the mission

However both of you fail to notice that Chris stops mid way through her story. When you finish you realise she’s stopped you look up and immediately blush.

When she see’s your blush she realises she got so entranced on you while you focused on her cut that she stopped talking.

Not giving her time to talk you get up to get a bandage for her cut and as you come back you see a shy look on Chris face. Smiling to yourself you place the bandage on her and lower her top, as she gets up and begins to leave you stop her.

“What are you doing Sunday?” You ask with a small smile and hopeful look in your eyes.

“Nothing why?” Chris replies while turning back to face you.

“I wondering if you would like go on a date” You said the smile on your face widening as a shocked but happy look crosses Chris’s face.

“I would love to” Chris says a happy but shy smile on her face at the fluttery feeling you caused at the question

You just continue to smile as you walk towards her placing a kiss on her cheek before heading back intent on clearing up so you can finish early and start planning your date.

As you turn Chris watches you with surprise in her eyes before a sweet smile appears on her face as she leaves.

[thedreadvampy]

fuck me so the migration bill passed in Commons yesterday.

still gotta go through Lords so it MIGHT get slightly defanged but let's look at how well that worked for the Police, Crime and Sentencing Bill last year which passed into law despite native public outrcy with most of its anti-protest and all of its anti-Traveller clauses intact. and there's not been nearly the same degree of concerted protest against this one yet.

in a bid to """""""stop the small boats"""""", the bill will:

Override the rights enshrined in international law to seek asylum, instead prioritising the Home Office's new legal duty to deport any undocumented migrant to concentration camps in Rwanda. yes I said concentration camps they are mass internment camps for a specific group of people to be incarcerated indefinitely without trial. that is what a concentration camp is. here's home secretary Suella Braverman laughing in front of the "estate" built in Rwanda to house deported asylum seekers

allow for indefinite detention of children suspected of being undocumented until they can be removed to the Rwanda camps. Tory rebels said 'could we not have to review that after 3 days to justify their detention?' and the Tory government said 'no but if we pass the bill we pinky promise that we'll think about maybe adding in an indefinite review period at some point' so it passed.

remove temporary protections allowing people claiming they've been trafficked as slaves to stay in the UK while their case is reviewed, and to recieve some support and leniency if it's found that they are Literally Here As Slaves. that's off the table in this bill, if you get trafficked to Britain as a slave who give a shit it's off to Rwanda with you buddy. even former PM Theresa "We Have To Create A Really Hostile Environment For Immigrants" May was like hey steady on there lads. that is incredibly specifically going to make preventing modern slavery way harder because who the fuck is going to come forward and say "help I'm being enslaved and trapped against my will in bad conditions in an unfamiliar country" when the thing that the government will do with that information is trap you against your will in bad conditions in a different unfamiliar country? NOBODY IS GOING TO DO THAT meaning that victims will be penalised in law for being victimised and traffickers will face even fewer consequences. which to be fair is the Tory playbook.

it's fucked. it's fucked and I feel so sick about it and so afraid of how overtly fascistic and genocidal this government continues to get.

meanwhile their new voter ID laws are in place and they've already been caught lying to voters in high-opposition areas by sending out flyers from party HQ claiming you don't need ID to vote. which you now do.

it's very bad lads. it's very very very very bad.

in the past 24 months we've seen a constant flow of legislation targeting Gypsy/Roma/Traveler communities, migrants, LGBTQ+ people (particularly trans people), disabled and chronically ill people, and protesters and dissidents. meanwhile we're in our biggest cost of living crisis in 45+ years, protections for the poor are being stripped and national services are being privatised.

the best case interpretation as far as I can see is that they expect to be ousted in the next General Election (but that isn't until 2025) and are getting everything they want to do in terms of attacking human rights and wellbeing as far as possible so that the next government will struggle to roll them all the way back

the thing is though that Labour are just nodding along with all these policies and are in the process of aggressively removing the remainder of open leftists from the party's core power structure, having already removed the ordinary membership's ability to guide party leadership or policy, and the SNP, which has often lately been the only meaningful opposition party in Westminster, is in freefall and on fire over an embezzlement and corruption scandal. that plus the voter suppression laws and control over media that the government are wielding FEELS A LOT LIKE even if we make it to the 2025 election we might still get another Tory term.

Winter of Discontent...2!!!! has been something of a damp squib - there have been widespread strikes but little obvious impact. this winter felt like the time things were gonna snap but I'm just not sure we're ever gonna snap hard enough.

Idk I feel sick as a fucking dog. I don't know what to do. If anyone knows of any ways to help (in Edinburgh, I can't travel easily out of the city) with the Migration Bill situation or with stuff more broadly, hmu. I'm pretty well tuned in on trans rights and abortion rights protests but I don't have connects for most other stuff.

[bl-danmei-planet]

Some thoughts on: Jinx (fandom)

I got obsessed with the hottest manwha of the day. The fandom especially on tiktok is going crazy and the work has received a lot of love and hate. I'd like to examine some thoughts about tiktok fandom and jaedan dynamic and what makes it so addictive and controversial (to some.)

"Toxic bl" "Red flag", To some young readers Jinx seems to be the first yaoi they are reading. It might have the Killing Stalking effect, it has shock value and people read it even though they hate it. It has the typical seme-uke dynamic from their character design to the plot as the wholesome virgin uke being in debt and the rich sex-crazy seme. Dan suffers physically, economically and emotionally in life and in the hands of Jaekyung. The dynamic is far from equal. Will it eventually become one? Will Dan's suffering be ever equal to Jaekyung's? This is what keeps the story interesting.

I think it's not contradictory that Jinx is popular in the time when two things in love are considered important: communication and consent. This is where the critique comes from. Jinx lacks both but is still hugely popular(but so are many heterosexual romances in this category: "Oh no what if a popular rich man had to have sex with me and fell in love with me even though I'm a poor virgin".) I think the taboo of it draws in, and Jinx being a yaoi as a genre it is somewhat still considered taboo although modern western fandoms might not think so(conversations around lgbt+ rights, respectability politics, representation etc Everything is very visible and has to seek approval from everyone. Where does sex fit into this?)

Debate of the fandom nowdays: fiction=reality? I have seen comments comparing Jaekyung (and his fans) to a real-life rapists and murderers. I think the topic of fiction affecting reality is interesting and nuanced but what matters here is the context: this work is part of a niche genre and audience. I also think that some people should stay away from smut. They lack literacy both in fiction and sexuality.

BDSM, violence, coersion and transaction as part of romance: Here is also the "classic yaoi" dynamic: the BDSM undertones, that in some fan theories will come play a bigger part of the plot and Jaekyung's character. The power dynamic is supposed to be unequal in such fantasies. It's not for everyone. The thing about dark topics/dynamics is that they catch the attention of the reader. Sometimes they are more psychological and sometimes it's just for the smut and gore. I'm interested to see how in depth Jinx will deal with these topics. So far it has been highly entertaining with constant suprises and cliffhangers.

"Who will fall first? Who will fall harder?". Jakeyung has already fallen for Dan but he does not realize that yet. He shows his feelings through possessiveness. He is an emotionally detached workaholic. He deals with stress through sex and that way Dan is his savior as well. He also represents something different, something genuine to him compared to his previous partners. Dan also has feelings for Jaekyung as he worries and cares for him. I think they will continue to communicate their feelings for each other through sex(/bdsm) and protecting each other in difficult situations in life.

I think Mingwa has crafted a very addicting story and I'm interested to see where this story goes. It might be a tropey romance but sometimes that's what you need.

[pynkhues]

https://www.tumblr.com/pynkhues/763760056446681088/i-know-sam-at-least-has-been-lower-on-the-call?source=share

ngl I was worried it was going to be someone I like, like Essie Davis, so I'm relieved it's someone I've never heard of! So weird when people are awful like that. Why? It seems like it makes the awful person's life harder as well as making things awful for other people

Haha, yeah, she’s very local, which I suspect is part of the motivation on her end. From everything I’ve heard, it sounds like she gets off on being a big fish in a little pond.

A lot of Aus actors will reach a certain degree of success here and try to transition it to bigger markets i.e LA or the UK, and the process of that has been described to me as both exciting and very (very) humbling as there are very few Australian movies or shows that have industry weight or recognition, and many (many) fail.

As a result though, you often do see this sort of dynamic play out with actors who stay and feel they’ve built up local industry versus actors who have left and come back and now may have some name recognition and thus sell-ability internationally, even if they’ve just done like, a CW show or something (it all helps in theory with selling a series to distributors too). It goes both ways too, of course - some actors who work internationally come back feeling better than local production, but this is really just to say that there can be weird power dynamics like that on Australian sets sometimes.

From what I’ve heard, she seems to be someone who feels she’s paid her dues and has earned a spot at the top of the local industry (which honestly, she has), and the result is she deserves whatever she wants from crews and directors, and anything less than the exact thing she wants is a personal insult. At the same time, she’s apparently extremely competitive with actors, both men and women, who she feels may usurp her as one of the most bookable actors in Australian TV.

It’s messy! But yeah, I’ve heard a lot about her mean girling and bullying people across departments on set.