#this isn't even like an accessible sport

[no-i-dont-exist-keep-talking]

I think a lot of the exy history would be easier to flesh out if exy was invented two generations back instead of one tbh

[quadrantadvisor]

I'm trying so hard not to be a hater but the more I learn about other ttrpgs the more the way that people talk about dnd annoys me

[merry-maker-of-marks]

I'm about to vent real quick about something real random here so bear with me guys.

Curling (the sport) is actually difficult. Like. It's hard. On multiple levels. And just like any other sport takes YEARS to master to even a single degree.

I get it. Everyone likes to meme on it. And there are people out there who will meme on every sport no matter how "legitimate" it is. But people. People. I cannot empysis enough That This Shit Is Hard and Yes The People Who Play it Professionally Deserve to Be At the Olympics.

Okay, I'm done, sorry everyone, thanks.

[killa-trav]

absolutely crazy that travis had to pay well over a million usd just for his family and taylor n her family to watch him at the super bowl wtfff

[earlgraytay]

So, you've probably all seen this post going around, about how The Chuds Want Gentleman's Clubs (but can't afford to go to the things called "gentlemen's clubs" today, so wouldn't have been able to in the past either). And I hate to say it, but that post isn't accurate.

The things we call "gentlemen's clubs" today and the things that were called "gentleman's clubs" in the past are not the same thing; the one is descended from the other, but they used to be a lot more common and served a purpose that they don't really serve anymore.

The modern equivalent of the historical gentleman's club isn't the thing currently called a gentleman's club; it's the premium airport lounge. And by losing the concept for all but the turbo-rich, I think we genuinely have lost something! Let me explain.

(NOTA BENE: This is mostly about England and from about 1880-1930, and most of my experience with this is from fiction written in that era. I know enough to know what I don't know, but I also know menswear guy is wrong about this.)

So- gentlemen's clubs started in *wiggles hands* the late 1700s, and mostly served a particular purpose: they were places you could stay in a city if you mostly lived in the country, instead of staying in lodgings or owning your own place. Finding a place to stay in London was kind of a misery at the best of times, and owning your own house in Town wasn't practical for a lot of people, even rich people. If you were, say, a young man, just starting out in life, and you hadn't inherited your father's wealth but also weren't set up to live on your own? Having a place you were guaranteed to be able to stay was a fucking godsend. And as time went on, even people who lived in London most of the time started joining clubs, because they served another important purpose- they were a place you could go if you didn't particularly want to be at home, for whatever reason.

The way that historical gentlemen's clubs worked is, you got recommended to the club by a friend who was a member, you paid dues to the club, and in exchange, you'd get to use the club's facilities. * Most gentlemen's clubs had, at minimum, a dining room (with waitstaff, natch), a library, a couple of nice places to sit and hang out, a game room, and a bar. Many of them also had rooms you could sleep in overnight, fitness equipment, or stuff related to the club members' interests. Most of them had a room or two where you could invite friends who weren't part of your club and spend time with them. In the era where phones were a thing, a lot of them had a phone. You could write letters there and get your mail sent there.

Here's the thing: in the period I know best, gentlemen's clubs weren't just for the turbo-rich. They were the province of rich guys, yes- you had to be a 'gentleman' and know the right people to get in. But men who were doctor/lawyer/software-developer rich were most likely members of a gentlemen's club. Anyone who was rich enough to travel regularly was part of at least one club, because having somewhere to crash when you were going between (say) London and Delhi and back again was worth the cost.

Most gentlemen's clubs were owned by their members- not an outside corporate body. The club leaders were elected, usually by a small committee.

And a lot of gentlemen's clubs founded around specific interests, as time went on. There were gentlemen's clubs specifically for Guys Who Were Really Into Radio. There were clubs specifically for men who spent a lot of time traveling. There were clubs specifically for dudes who wanted to talk your ear off and clubs for old dudes who mostly wanted to nod off in their chairs and talk about The War and clubs for dudes who did not want to be percieved at all.

There were clubs for men who were really into science, or the arts, or sports. And one perk of being in a club like this is that you had access to equipment that you might not have been able to buy on your own. You didn't have to shell out for an entire library of scientific and medical books; you could go to your club and read in the library there. If your club had, say, an art studio, you could go paint at your club and not have to keep a studio space of your own.

There were gentlemen's clubs specifically oriented around specific political or social views. There were socialist clubs. (And a lot of them admitted women, which was !!!SCANDALOUS!!!) Like, they were still the province of goddamn rich people, there were a lot of trust fund baby socialists and not many working people, but there were socialist social clubs.

...I don't want to pretend that gentlemen's clubs were some kind of idyllic haven. 99% of these clubs were For Men, and For The Right Sort Of Men at that; if you didn't have a friend who was a member, or you weren't "respectable" enough, you didn't get to join. There's a reason that most of these clubs are gone now. Part of the point was excluding the Wrong Sort of People, and that became gauche over time. After a certain point, being part of a club became a thing for stodgy, out-of-touch rich men- not just "men who happened to have enough money to be part of a club"- and so most of the men who could join one didn't, and people stopped forming new ones. Only Old Money assholes (who will continue to do what they've always done, current trends be damned) keep the concept alive.

But like... the thing that replaced gentlemen's clubs for 99% of the people who would have had one a hundred years ago... is the premium airport lounge, and the premium gym membership, and the ~coworking hub~.** Anyone can join, yeah, as long as they're able to pay. You pay a corporation a chunk of money for similar amenities, and the amenities are ... fine? But because the entity is driven by profit, most of the money you're paying them goes into running their other business concerns and paying their CEOs a fat paycheck.

I think... as exclusionary as gentlemen's clubs were back in the day, there's the seed of a good idea there. I think the guys who wish they were still an attainable thing for a middle-class person have a point, and I wish we could inject some fucking nuance into this conversation.

A community-owned space that gives you a place to crash when you need one, has community-owned resources for its members, and isn't beholden to a corporation is a good thing. Third spaces that don't have to turn a profit are a damn good thing.

At the end of the day, my politics are 'everyone should get to have the kind of luxuries that were historically reserved for the rich'. Everyone should get to have the best life has to offer- leisure, beauty, good craftsmanship, and community. And so, you know, if this kind of community space sounds like a thing you'd like to have, maybe it's something you could work towards creating, too.

*TBF, this is still how they work today! But the networks are much smaller.

**I do find it very funny that apparently one of the biggest problems facing the few remaining Actual Gentlemen's Clubs (TM) is that people are trying to use their space to telework-- a lot of them are trying to ban laptops and business talk to "keep the club's character" (read: "we're too rich to have to work here").

[daughter-of-sapph0]

I can't believe we're actually having the fucking bathroom debate again

for literally the past ten years I avoided using public bathrooms in general. every time I'm forced to use them I fear for my life that I'll be harassed, threatened, attacked, raped, or killed for no other reason than someone doesn't like that I exist in proximity to them.

obviously this isn't the biggest issue in the world that I can't use public restrooms. I've lived like this for ten years, I don't care if I have to pee at home for the rest of my life.

the real issues trans women face are far greater than bathroom or sports.

homelessness for trans women is at an all time high. we are on average paid less than cis women and other queer people. I'm not even going to explain what v-coding is because it's too horrific to even mention. not to mention that access to medication and therapy is often barred for us, and getting the treatment we need is often impossible for many of us

how many more of us have to die before we finally get the respect we deserve?

how many more of us have to starve to death on the side of the road, cold, homeless, turned away by shelters?

how many more of us will end up taking their own lives because they couldn't access the support they needed to live?

how many more of us will be assaulted, raped, and murdered, only for their obituary to use the wrong name, and for people to blame us for being victims?

I'm tired of being a topic of debate! I'm a human fucking being, god dammit! I demand to be treated like one!

[brodygold]

The Lecture

Bruce slid into his usual seat in the front row of the lecture hall, noting his best friend, Sawyer, already there. Sawyer was hunched over his desk, rearranging his meticulously organized notes. His wide-rimmed glasses slid down his nose as he adjusted his pocket protector, crammed full of pens in every color imaginable. The faint glow of his acne-covered cheeks highlighted his enthusiasm.

Bruce set his worn-out bag on the floor and pulled out his trusty notebook, a favorite blue pen, and his lucky number 2 pencil. He also placed two highlighters—yellow and green—on the desk for easy access. He and Sawyer exchanged quick grins, ready for another one of Dr. Hanson's legendary physics lectures.

"I heard we're talking about quantum particles today!" Sawyer whispered excitedly, the grin on his face wide enough to show his braces.

"Poggers, Sawyer! I've been waiting for this since the semester started," Bruce replied, his voice buzzing with equal enthusiasm.

While Bruce didn't sport Sawyer's stereotypical nerdy look, he had his own geeky charm—a mop of unkempt blonde hair that fell past his shoulders, a pair of noise-canceling headphones permanently dangling around his neck, and a gamer’s gut, nurtured by too many late-night snack breaks. They were an inseparable pair, their shared passion for science and gaming solidifying their bond.

As the rest of the lecture hall filled, a hush fell over the room when the door banged open. A young man, probably in his late 20s, strolled confidently to the podium. His athletic build was hard to miss under a tight gold jersey, the fabric hugging his broad chest and biceps.

"Hey there bros. You all can call me Mr. Gold. Or Brody if you're feeling more casual."

Sawyer shot his hand up. "Mr. Gold, where is Mr. Hanson? He didn't say anything about missing class today."

"Great question, bro. I actually ran into him on his way to class and we had a nice chat. We both decided it might be good for me to give a guest lecture today while he runs some errands." Mr. Gold took the opportunity to write the title of the lecture on the board:

The Physics of Football

"Ew. Sports." Bruce thought.So much for quantum particles. He didn't even like playing video games about sports, and now they were forced to learn about the "math and science" behind it all? He wondered if he should just get up and leave, but he was sitting in the front and everyone would see him. Might as well just sit and listen to what Mr. Gold had to say.

"Now it might sound strange to you nerds, but there's actually a lot of math involved in sports. The players may be too dumb to do the calculations in their head, but they're there. Let's go over an example."

Mr. Gold turned around and started drawing on the board. It was easy to see it was one football player throwing the ball to another.

"Let's say that during the play, the QB wants to throw the ball to the wide receiver. Thanks to forces like gravity, the ball will eventually land. The tricky part is getting the ball to land in the receiver's hands. Let's say he throws the ball and the two are 70 yards apart. What shape is the path of the ball?"

Pfft. That was an easy question. Bruce went to put his hand up and give the answer, when his mind suddenly went blank. He knew they'd just covered this exact topic in his calc class, but nothing came to mind besides "curve." He tugged at the collar of his button down, feeling uncomfortable in it all of a sudden.

"Anyone? Guess we have a bunch of dumb jocks in this class." Mr. Gold let out a chuckle. "The answer is 'parabola.' The ball travels in a parabola from the quarterback to the receiver. Now let's just say the equation representing the parabola is as follows." He turned back around and wrote a relatively simple equation on the board.

"Now obviously the dumb jock isn't going to know what the equation is when he throws the ball. He just goes off of instinct and practice. But there's so much we can figure out from knowing the exact equation. For example, we can figure out when the ball hits the ground. Any idea how we might do that?"

Bruce scoffed. Another easy question. You just sent the equation equal to zero and... and... damn it! This was supposed to be so simple to a nerd like him! His mind felt like it was slowing down. Though the football example was making more sense now. He was getting a bit invested in it and could see Sawyer was too, the other nerd having taken off his glasses to better pay attention.

"You bros really are dumb jocks, huhu." This time some of the guys in the class laughed along, their voices seeming deeper than Bruce remembered. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up all night binging that new space documentary series. "Let's work through it together nice and slow. We set the equation equal to zero like so. Then we just need to solve for x. Simple algebra at this point. Why don't we try it ourselves and see what we get?"

Bruce tried to solve the equation in his notebook, but he found it harder to hold the pencil. His hands almost seemed meatier than they should be. His grey t-shirt felt great though. Nice and tight, just how he liked it! But seriously, who would ever need to know this stuff? Like Mr. Gold said, it's all instinct and practice anyway!

"Alright bros. Did any of my dumb jocks get the answer? You should have gotten 6 seconds. By the blank looks on your faces, it seems you all may be a bit too dumb for this. I was going to ask if any of you remembered how derivatives worked, but why don't we all go throw the ball around outside instead?"

Bruce let out a yell of approval with all the other jocks in the class. He turned to look at his best bro Sawyer and gave the hot jock a fist bump,. Who cared about any of this nerd crap anyway? He looked at the golden jersey he was wearing with pride. The Golden Army was his home, through and through. He was just in school to get a sports management degree and work full time for the best team ever made!

Mr. Gold smiled at the cheers. "Excellent. Class dismissed."

[twinsimming]

TS4 to TS3 TV Channels Default Replacement by Twinsimming 📺

This mod replaces video clips from The Sims 3 TV channels containing Sims 2 characters with video clips from Sims 4 TV channels containing Sims 3 characters and adds new channels converted from The Sims 4!

Place in your Overrides folder.

Overview

Replaced Existing Channels

New Channels

Replaced Existing Channels

The following channels have had their video clips replaced:

Basic

KidZ Zone

Romantic Rendezvous

Sports Universe

Action World

Basic Plus

Cookin' Cable

New Channels

The following channels are new and available depending on the quality of your sim’s television:

Basic

TV Classics - Shows old black and white TV shows and soap operas (from Vintage Glamour Stuff)

PolitiSim - Broadcasts political debates and campaigns (from City Living)

Basic Plus

Civic Public Access - Features various shows including a sitcom, a dating show, and news broadcasts from different city festivals (from City Living)

BEtween - Features a cartoon based on MySims Agents as well as other shows for more mature kids (from Kids Room Stuff)

Premium

World Culture Network - Features documentaries about Champs Les Sims, Al Simhara and Shang Simla (from City Living)

High Definition

Music TV - Mainly shows music clips

Laugh Track (renamed from Comedy) - Shows a stand up comedy set and a parody of a late night talk show

Conflicts & Known Issues

- Conflicts with any mod that edits TV.xml file.

- Videos are no longer black and white on older/retro TVs.

- The video clips don’t fit all TVs perfectly due to the different aspect ratios. Some fit better than others.

- The video quality isn't the greatest (even when uncompressed), so if anyone knows how to upscale videos, please reach out!

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 3 and The Sims 4, s3pe, s4pe, and Notepad++.

Thank You

Thank you to @simbouquet for extracting the video files and answering all of my questions, and to @riverianepondsims for testing!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi 💙

Download @ ModTheSims

[canisalbus]

You might have answered this before but is there any aus or routes where Machete doesn't get assassinated, and he and Vasco get to live somewhat happy lives together? Or is the heartbreak and tragedy always set in stone?

I think in order to avoid the bad ending he'd have to resign from his position and find something less distressing to do with his life. I'm not entirely sure how that works though, I believe relinquishing cardinalship for example is extremely unusual and a big deal even in modern times, usually you hold these titles until death, retiring isn't part of the plan. And since he's had to fight tooth and nail to get where he is and his sense of self-worth is tied to it, I find it hard to believe he'd have enough sense to just leave everything behind. Besides, he was saved, raised and trained by the church, in some way he must feel like he owes his life to it.

I feel like the modern au, not that such thing exists at the moment, would be relatively happy and free of drama and tragedy. Now that I'm thinking about it, the root of Machete's problems must be health issues. In present times he wouldn't get left behind for being weak and ill so he wouldn't have any specific reason to pursue ecclesiastical career. I don't know what job he'd land but I don't think he'd be a priest. Having access to modern medicine and diagnostics would certainly help a ton, no more bloodletting, valerian root and laudanum for him. I see no reason why he and Vasco wouldn't be happily married. They'd probably travel a bunch and have a habit of frequenting snobby little bistros and overpriced restaurants. Machete would drag Vasco to museums, theatre and opera. He'd still be workaholic but with the additional boost of very strong coffee. Vasco would own some sort of garish Italian sports car. He'd be good at cooking and baking. He'd still ride horses. Maybe he'd be an avid football fan even.

[maxdibert]

Hello, I've been following you for some time and I love your posts and analyzes about Severus, I regularly update your blog hoping for more and I always wanted to send you something, but I never had the opportunity.

But recently I saw a video on TikTok, which I didn't pay much attention to, but I saw the comments and one of them talked about how if Harry was a woman and looked like Lily, Severus would be a pedophile and that that gave people the creeps. And I, personally, find this statement very funny, because as far as I remember, Snape never had inappropriate contact with any Hogwarts student, or with anyone, in fact. But people intentionally forget that the only person who had the opening to do this was Peter Pettigrew. Ron himself said that they slept together and, probably, Peter saw the boys, literal children, changing their clothes, but, obviously, it would be Snape who was the child predator.

Sorry if it wasn't very understandable, English isn't my first language and I'm using Google to help.

Hi! Thank you. I'm glad you like my rants and sometimes nonense lol

About your pint... Well, this is a very old story. If I had a penny for every time I’ve read someone spouting this nonsense, I wouldn’t be rich, but I’d have enough for a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant. It’s so absurd that I don’t even think it’s worth refuting, but just to clarify a few things:

Severus resents Harry for two main reasons, and neither of them has to do with being in love with Lily. It’s not something as childish as “uh, my crush married someone else.” No, there are several layers to it.

The first and most obvious is that, unfortunately, Harry is the spitting image of his father, who, unfortunately, was a jerk who spent his school years torturing people—specifically, and with great enthusiasm: Severus Snape. James spent seven years hunting him down and attacking him for sport, backed by his loyal ally Sirius Black and supported by his lackeys, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. While the latter two might not have physically assaulted Severus, they were there as enablers and complicit bystanders. Four against one, at the end of the day.

Severus never had the chance to heal from that abuse because, at 21, he was forced to return to the very place that had been hell for him. He had to teach students who were likely old enough to have witnessed some of those humiliations during his time as a student. A victim cannot heal in the place where they were consistently harmed.

Then Harry comes along, looking like an exact replica of James, and every time Severus sees him, it triggers him immensely. When he looks at Harry, he doesn’t see Lily’s son, nor does he see a child—he sees his abuser. And we all know Harry isn’t to blame for any of this, but the thing is, we can’t expect someone who isn’t acting rationally to be rational. Especially when we’re talking about someone who desperately needs therapy and probably medication, neither of which he’s ever had access to.

Then there’s another factor—a deeply emotional one—which is that Harry’s very existence is a painful reminder of Severus’s own role in Lily’s death. The fact that this kid is there, an orphan, is a constant reminder that Severus overheard a prophecy, reported it to Voldemort, and that Voldemort then chose to kill the most important person in Severus’s life because of it. It’s a perpetual mix of anger and guilt.

Looking at Harry forces Severus to relive his past as a victim, his most humiliating moments, as well as the terrible decisions he made because of them and their devastating consequences. This doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it does explain it quite well.

What I’m trying to say is that the reasons behind how he treats Harry are deeply tied to trauma. If Harry were a girl and resembled Lily, Severus would still feel deeply triggered every time he saw her. The only difference would be that instead of seeing James in her, he’d see Lily. I think, rather than anger, it would fill him with depression and guilt to such a degree that, instead of antagonizing her, he’d try to avoid her as much as possible. He wouldn’t want to get within ten miles of her because seeing her face would constantly remind him of the person he failed and indirectly condemned.

At no point do I imagine anything even remotely sexual crossing his mind. Especially when you consider that Severus never once confessed his feelings to Lily or behaved inappropriately toward her. I do think he’d act “softer,” but not because of her appearance specifically—more because Severus is always gentler toward women. I mentioned this in another post, but his more cordial relationships are almost always with female characters, and when he’s cruel, it’s typically far worse with men than with women.

People who lack even the most basic comprehension or analytical skills… Honestly, if they’re going to hate on him, the least they could do is come up with more convincing arguments. Sometimes it’s just exhausting to explain why their theories don’t make any sense.

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Matt Montgomery - Closet Geek & Closet Freak

An Adult in Eltingville that actually acts like an adult???? WHAT???

Matthieu "Matt" / "Mattie" Thomas Montgomery [02/16/1978] Not Affiliated with TEC - Known Tournament winner amongst Jerry's MTG players. Cosplayer and College student in Manhattan. AOL / Online Users: [MTM_cosplay] | [GoblinHoarder] Theme Songs: Talk talk - Charli xcx | Move Along - All American Rejects | Somebody Told Me - The Killers

Favorite Shit: Trading Cards, Puzzles, Sports cards, Cosplays, X-Men, Monsters, Kaiju, Robots/Mecha, Dr. Who, Rubicks Cubes, Hard Cover books, YAPPERS, Movie Marathons, Beast, Wolverine, MTG, D&D, Cosplay Contests

I don't know how tf to describe this man other than tired and done with everybody's shit and he hasn't been awake more than an hour. He's three years into his bachelor's degree, essentially has 3 full time jobs between cosplay, tournaments, and all of his school work PLUS TUTORING, homie barely has enough time to breathe let alone deal with the TEC. However, that doesn't mean he won't find a way to weasel himself in-- even if its.... by unconventional or rather... *unexpected* means.

Guys I have like no art of him SORRY

Mattie generally only gets introduced very sparingly during 1999-2005, essentially in passing by Jerry or Josh, but he's still present and alive during this time, obviously. Him being friends with Jerry is what gets him to recognize Josh later.

Matt is studying for a Bachelors in English Comp, specializing in Journalism.

Speaking of, Josh and Matt work together at the editors office for the Comic Book News site in the epilogue. It's how they find each other again after Matt graduates and moves back home.

Matt is from northern Vermont, around the Canadian border, and has a bit of a Canadian accent because of it.

Everyone picks on him about it except for May and Jerry, (yes, even Josh, but it eventually becomes endearing to Matt.)

MATT. LIKES. YAPPERS. He doesn't talk much, he doesn't have much to talk about. Books and papers and trying to explain gymnastics routines isn't exactly the most interesting thing in the world, y'know.

He also doesn't have the time to really subject himself to the extreme absorption that Josh and Bill can get with their comics and shows, so.. Tell him about them!

He didn't get access to a lot of the more nerdy, pop culture side of things because of his parents. They had a significantly stronger iron grip on what he and his sister were exposed to, so he never really...

well, he didn't get to express his love for the more geek-y side of life until he moved to NY for college.

He became a professional cosplayer via his roommate forcing him to post, invited to events and photoshoots for his live floor routines he'll do in character, though he almost always wears a full-face mask or enough make up that you can barely tell who he is.

he can't have his sister finding out he dresses up as a blue demon freak in his spare time, yknow? (god she'd bully the shit out of him if she did--)

He's been in gymnastics since he was in middle school, and he's actually quite good; he's on a scholarship at his university, for pete's sake.

unfortunately a bad fall broke his clavicle and made it so he can't do vault anymore, but he enjoys his time doing floor routines and fucking around on the pommel horse from time to time.

Matt also.. is weirdly envious of TEC's... closeness? The fact they barely get along and yet they're all still together, they all still try and see each other or keep in touch..

He's never had that, and it makes him horrifically jealous, but he keeps it to himself-- smile and wave, swallow it down like normal, hm?

please subject him to a movie marathon. Infodump on him everything about whatever you're fixated on. He likes listening to people's voices, so please, just do it. It doesn't bother him at all.

This man has a TEMPER. His mother and his sister have this too, and it is BAD. Matt, however, learned ways to keep his temper at bay and calm down. to an extent. Bill, however, always manages to get his blood to boil by just the mention of him, so maybe... don't

Also, Matt and Pete absolutely bicker. A lot. Matt is constantly showing off that even though he's only an inch taller, he's able to do soOOSOooo much more! and Pete is convinced that Matt isn't actually gay and is trying to steal May away (guys Pete is such a fucking jealous goober I hate him)

Meanwhile literally the only person Matt wants is Josh. Pete should open his eyes maybe but like it's fine.

HOLY SHIT GYUSY

Okay UHM Hi Matt probably won't be talked about much but if you see me Vermont Honey posting it's because I need my comfort ship back okay THanks Also the NSFW cut is coming guys It's gonna have em all And I'll draw Jane and Matt's little sister soon, as they go to school together (Jane absolutely hates her guts OOPS unfortunately she's a bitchy cheerleader so you bet Jane has a voodoo doll of her somewhere in her room).

[thearchercore]

charles renewalgate, PR insights

charles renewed! yay! but was it an ordinary renewal announcement? hell no! so let's unpack that!

first interesting thing about the announcement was the leaking of it in the morning by spanish press. "Carlos Miquel leaked the news about the announcement earlier today; we can see what type of articles he wrote before, as we know he has links with the sainz family" which was very odd by itself because even the closest journalists of ferrari didn't know. it's all part of fred's 2024 strategy of tightening the access to information from maranello.

so the leak obviously came from the carlos gang who knew about it internally. why would they leak it? questionable. people discuss it's to gain public sympathy for carlos who is still struggling to lock a contract (and holds his singapore win as the great reason why he shouldn't be dropped).

then we got new information today about carlos talking with audi:

🚨 | Audi is a possible alternative for Sainz if progress isn't made in Ferrari negotiations.

Both parties will consider their options as talks waver

this is him applying the charles 2023 strategy when he used the red bull move allegations to put pressure on ferrari between qatar-las vegas (also known as the lestappengate)

now moving on, what was odd about the charles contract? not specifying its length. we got multiple quotes: CHARLES: "Today we are announcing that i'm signing for more years" FERRARI: "Charles Leclerc who therefore will continue to drive for the Italian team in the Formula 1 World Championship beyond the 2024 season."" CHARLES: "I’m very pleased to know that I will be wearing the Scuderia Ferrari race suit for several more seasons to come." the way the length is not specified is simply odd. it's not usual for a driver/team to not specify the timeline. only lance has that, but for different reasons as you may know. pr statements like these are SO perfectly curated, they go through multiple people, so this is a very deliberate choice. how it will unpack? we'll have to see.

charles took creative control of the announcement. while ferrari posted the classic graphic - a standard for renewals in f1 for other teams, charles went above and beyond and with his creative PR team put together a personal video that he even composed a song for. INSANITY. what does it say? compared to other announcements, he made it his own. and ferrari let him. why? because now he can, and they let him do it because he most likely negotiated all that and they just have to support him and not be the main source of his public pr -- he now has his own PR moves that he prioritizes over the ferrari ones.

f1 is going crazy! they posted a supercut of charles moments which is not a standard move at all, usually they just post the renewal graphic. they also teased the announcement with a few charles focused clips in the past week leading up to today.

why? well, it comes down to Stefano Domenicali, the CEO of F1 who has a lot of influence on the sport. he was vocal about a missing rivalry in the sport, and how the red bull dominance decreased interest in the sport as of recent. charles is exactly what they need, they want people to promise an intense red bull/ferrari rivalry so pushing charles on social platforms helps form the narrative.

i will further explore all interesting insights in the new tag: ferrari renewalgate bc i am noisy

[joelslegalwhre]

Hey!! was just looking to request a little something, if you don't want to/don't have the time I don't mind.

So, like a Max V x Reader where reader is Toto's daughter. Reader and Toto doesn't have a good relationship because she isn't very interested in the Mercedes team and after a petty fight he kicks her out of the house, max hears them fighting (they're in the paddock) and offers to host reader and as time goes, they start to build a relationship and then everyone finds out about it. Also if it could take place under the 2021 season. 🏎️🤍

*sips on dr pepper* Alright Toto my beloved, it‘s time to be a bitch

Thank u sm for the request anon! I made some small changes to the plot but nothing major xx

Paddock Pass pt.1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader, dad!toto wolff x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

summary: After Toto takes your paddock pass, Max comes to your rescue. You didn‘t think that rescue would lead to something much bigger. (Pls trust me this is good, I just suck at summaries)

warnings: angst, fighting, bad dad-daughter dynamics, fluff, mutual pining turning into more, use of Y/N one time, not really proofread (anything else? Tell me if I missed something)

Masterlist || taglist || part one || part two || part three

There wasn't a year when you hadn't attended at least half of the grand prix. And this year was no different. 

Your job allowed you to work from everywhere you liked, so it was the perfect opportunity to follow your dads team around the world. 

The Mercedes Formula One team was something you’d consider family. 

You knew everyone by name, some of them knew you since you were only a few years old, attending your first races. 

But you never cared for the strategies, the way the cars worked, or anything in that field. 

You were here for the excitement of the races, the familiarity and the people. The drivers, the mechanics, the strategists or the people working for the media… they were close to your heart, and you couldn't imagine not being part of this world.

Even if you weren't the least bit interested in the details; you knew everything about the sport, you just didn't want to go into detail why the car would work better if you added this thing to whatever part of the car that your dad had explained to you so many times. 

But Toto Wolff would not understand that. And he made it very clear. 

In his eyes, you should be just as interested in all aspects of the sport. To be like him, you thought.

„You know what, Dad? Shocker, but not everyone shares your fucking interests and cares for them as much as you do!" 

You've never talked to him like that, but you've had enough. "I know I'm not the daughter you'd like to have," you continued, „I really don't care  about the aerodynamics of Lewis‘ car and how it's different to Valtteris'! I simply don't care!" 

You felt hot tears burning in your eyes, but you managed to blink them away. Barely, but he didn't have to see them. "They all know that," these damn tears wouldn't stop, you thought, "Everyone except for you, Dad.

The disappointment in your voice was clear as day, "Why do you even take me with you, when you don't just accept me as I am?" Your lips were pressed in a tight line, the tears still on the verge of falling. 

"You're right." Toto said in the coldest voice you might've ever heard from him, his accent thick, „I don't have to drag you with me anywhere, you're an adult after all. But I also don't have to give you access to the paddock, nor to the garage or anywhere else."

You clenched your teeth, hard. He just had to snap his fingers and your all access pass was worth nothing. You couldn't enter the paddock, couldn’t go anywhere else. And he knew, clear as day, that you couldn't just take a plane back home. You needed the money to pay your rent and couldn't just waste it on a plane ticket that was way too expensive. 

But you wouldn't give in this time, no, if he wanted to punish you for telling him the truth, fine. But he couldn't just humiliate you like he did right now. You grabbed the all access pass hanging from your neck and shoved it in his hand. "Take it then." you said, your voice matching his cold tone. 

Max was hearing every part of it. He'd noticed your voice just before he walked past the Mercedes facility, stopping dead in his tracks when he heard the tone of your words. The voice he had heard so many times, the kindness you always spoke with. All gone. And then Toto's. Just as horribly cold. The two of you were standing between the facilities, so he pretended to be on his phone answering someone, so he could wait in front of his own facility. 

"Take it then." he heard you say in a bitter tone, and just a moment later, you walked past him. He could tell that you were upset. Hell, everyone could've. The way you almost ran out of the paddock and tried to blink away the tears - of sadness, anger, or possibly both, he couldn't tell - it was obvious. Max waited another moment, and when he saw Toto returning to the Mercedes facility, he quickly followed you.

He had to quicken his pace, due to your fast steps. Some were curiously watching where he wanted to be so quickly, but he didn't notice them, just trying to catch up to you. "Hey," he called after you, "wait for me!" 

You didn't hear him, and even if you did, you wouldn't think he'd meant you. It was when he called out your name, that you finally turned around. 

"Thank you." he said, taking a deep breath. He stopped right at your side. "Ehm," you looked at him in utter confusion, still trying not to be obvious of your emotions. "Can I help you, Max?" 

You haven't seen him, when you walked past the Red Bull building, too focused on what to do now. 

„Uhm, yeah, I mean… Can we find a-„ he looked around, “a more private place to talk?” 

His gaze was filled with sincerity and softness. You needed a second to answer him. „Uhm, yes. Of course.“ you quietly said. 

“Great.” Max gently took your wrist and led you to a more secluded place between two facilities. The grip he had on your wrist turned into him sliding his hand in yours. It didn‘t surprise you how the skin where he had touched you tingled, the feeling of your hand in his a feeling you could never quite explain. It was childish, but ever since he started driving for Red Bull, you had a crush on him. You obviously never told your Dad or anyone else about it, hell would've broken loose if you did. 

“I was actually heading out of the paddock,“ you started, “I don't have a pass anymore.” 

His lack of confusion or surprise to that made you draw your brows together, and then he simply answered, „I know.” 

“So what are you-„ you started, but he interrupted you, “I know it's not the most gentlemen thing to do, but I heard all of the-“ he thought for a second, “discussion, between you and your Dad.” he ended. 

That actually made you smile a little, he tried his best to be as gentle as possible and you appreciated it. „It’s okay, Max. I guess everyone kind of heard us.” you sighed, „We had a fight, and he kicked me out.” a bitter smile formed on your lips. 

„Yeah, but he can't kick you out of the paddock.” Max's lips turned into a mischievous smile. “What do you mean?” He looked at your hand and his thumb caressed it for a second. „I'll give you one of mine.” 

„Max,“ you started a little shocked, but he quickly shook his head, „It's really no problem at all,“ he smiled, „It would be an honor to have you in the garage.“ he winked.

His knees almost buckled at the sight of you.

He had given you one of his spare Red Bull shirts. It was a little too big for you, but you had styled it perfectly, the new pass dangling from your neck with every step you took.

You looked absolutely beautiful. And you weren't walking past his garage like you usually would, because his garage was the one you'd watch the race in. It filled him with a sort of pride he couldn't explain. Never in a million years, had he dared to believe you'd be rooting for him and his team. Little did he know, you did since meeting him for the first time. 

"Hey," you greeted him with a warm smile. Max was glad that you seemed to be in a much better mood than yesterday. „Hey.“ he grinned. „Is this-„ you gestured over your outfit and pass, „Is it really okay with the team?“ 

You were a little nervous how they'd react to you being in the garage. Nearly everyone knew you were Toto's daughter. And although you knew most of the other teams, including the people who worked for them, you felt quite nervous. „It is.“ His voice had no trace of uncertainty in it. And when he grabbed your hand for the second time since your encounter yesterday, your stomach did a little happy flip. 

„Alright, I have to go, but you can just go over there to watch the race,“ he pointed to your left, „But I guess it's no different to the Mercedes garage, so…“ he laughed. You smiled and chuckled, „It isn‘t, but thank you.“ He gave you a small nod, still smiling. „No Max, really. Thank you.“ Your voice became more serious, and you looked at him with utter gratitude. 

Just when he gave your hand a light squeeze, you noticed that you must've still been holding hands. „I already told you it's no problem, I'm glad you are here.“ You couldn‘t tell the look on his face, you just knew that he was standing so very close to you that only a few centimeters separated the two of you. His gaze wandered from your eyes to your lips. His hand that caressed yours as you still watched him with such intensity, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but at the same time just taking him in. „Y/N, I-„ he started whispering, so close to your own lips, just so very close. 

„Max! We need you over here!“

The voice made both you and Max look up, almost startled. He turned around to the mechanic, and nodded quickly before turning back to you. 

But the moment was gone. You took a step back, letting go of his hand in the process. You smiled at him, though nervously, „Good luck, champ.“. And with that you left him standing there, your heart still aching for so much more than a simple ‚good luck‘. 

I appreciate your comments and reblogs so much!

here’s my kofi if you‘d like to leave a tip 🩷

[scenetocause]

would like to hear your thoughts on what girl!oscar would think of Lando in a club wearing an australia hat 😳

ha well. fic unde the cut

The first thing she notices isn't what Logan's messaging her about. Which she finds out when "omg I fucking hate those sunnies" gets an eyeroll emoji and a long typing response.

Surely you haven't got him so whipped you don't even notice when he's switching nationalities for you yet?

And no, yeah, she does. Notice it. It's not like Valtteri or whatever, becoming an honourary bogan. Lando couldn't pass for Aussie to save his fucking life, he's possibly never (at least as far as Oscar can tell) experienced "chilling out" and throwing a shrimp on the proverbial barbie would have him shrieking.

But Lando's started deliberately checking on Australian sports. He clearly has no idea what most of them are but makes an effort to natter to her about them, when they're wasting time in their driver room and both in danger of getting antsy before whatever media drivel they're scheduled into.

He's a lot smarter than people give him credit for, generally but especially when it comes to something he's concentrating on. Lando knows more about Australian politics than she does, now. Has views about wildlife conservation Oscar tries to keep up with, endorse the wildfire prevention and recovery fund the Quadrant outback drop donated to.

He even googled foods from Melbourne and discovered pigs in blankets is something they're both easily into eating a secret box of, smuggled from Tesco to the weird little flat they sometimes stay in in Woking

Think that's for Keegan not me dude

This time Logan takes no time at all to send back lmao and as if followed by never change Oscar.

She just sends back I really do hate those sunglasses, they make him look like Alonso before we were born. Lando's style is his own business but Oscar reserves the right to take the piss out of it when he deserves it. And only abuse the media team's access to Getty Images a bit when he wears something really hot into the paddock.

"Wow, harsh," the man in question declares, reading over Oscar's shoulder. "I think they're quite cool."

"You think clubbing is cool." She rolls onto her back, lets him snuggle down on top of her. They probably ought to get dressed soon, for the jet back from Ibiza. If they're late they might get sent to fucking Marseille again and as wank as it is having complaints about private jets, Oscar's not keen to repeat that.

Making a woman wait 10 hours for her post-win fuck is inhumane, no matter the mode of transport.

"Yeah." Lando sounds oddly melancholy about it, makes her tighten her arms around him and leave a space for him to carry on his sentence.

It's a few long beats before he does. "Prefer just hanging out with you, though."

They've talked about this, that they're becoming a bit insular. Don't spend as much time with their other friends, doing their separate hobbies, as they used to. It's rare Oscar wakes up without someone who loves her, understands her instantly, in the same bed.

It's not a bad thing. Or at least, it shouldn't be. People on TikTok make out like they're never apart and body language freaks on YouTube say they're tired of each other but they're not. The more time they spend together, the easier it is. The harder it is to imagine how they exist apart.

Just as well, really, if they're getting married. Makes her bundle Lando up against her, like even imagining what separating them would be like is a thought crime she needs to protect him against.

It's pretty sweet, being Oscar Piastri, this time.

"I don't want to take the plug out," Lando mumbles into her armpit. "Do you think it'll set off the scanner things?"

Probably not. Silicon isn't metallic and they're not likely to cavity search him.

"Won't you be all," she tries to gesture what he's like when he's wriggling. "On the plane."

Lando thinks about it for a second, then tucks himself into her, looking dangerously like he's about to fall asleep. "Nope. Not if you cuddle me."

"I'll take it out when we get back to the flat." She has no idea if he'll last that long or get squiggly and end up doing away with it in the tiny bathroom on the jet.

"You can put something bigger in." Lando's hand engulfs hers, where he wraps them together but Oscar can get the jist of what he's asking for. Kisses his hair, to hide how much she's squeezing her thighs together, wet and hot at just the thought.

And maybe a little bit for the engagement ring on his finger, biting hard and solid into the pulse point of Oscar's palm.

[venuszn]

☆ : Seven Minutes

Summary / You and Bada Lee were exes. It’s three months later and you’re still sore about the messy breakup but you’re stubborn and being in denials comfortable embrace is better than facing your true feelings - that you’re still not over her. Bada Lee regrets how things ended and has finally mustered up the courage to show you how much you mean to her and to put you first. Three months of regret, pain and suppressed feelings has lead you both to this moment - face to face at a party with an empty bottle set on the table as it spins and spins, taunting you almost. ‘You’d rather kiss the sweaty alcohol potent guy on her right���, you try to convince yourself. But fate has other plans.

Cw / Exes to lovers, Angst (happy ending), Toxic Bada & Reader (who is in the wrong or are they both wrong ?), 7 minutes in heaven, Suggestive, Dom!Bada, MDNI.

Wc / 3.2K words.

You stand there, eyes locked with your reflection as it stares back at you judgingly. You almost can't believe yourself. There’s no way you’d go to a party that your ex is going to be at, and there's no way in hell you'd go to a party being held at said ex's apartment . . . right ? You almost can't believe that you're dressed in a lace corset top and a black mini skirt that showed off your legs. It's not like you remembered that Bada always liked it when you wore skirts - especially because of the easy access. No, you didn't remember that at all. Just like you forgot that Bada always loved it when you wore outfits that complimented your body, how she would worship your beauty and feel a sense of pride when in public with you because she knew that you were all hers. Well, that was before. That was months ago and you and Bada were old news, you were done. And all it took was one missed phone call to catalyse the ending of a year of love that the two of you shared as one.

———

It was a hot summer’s day and the aircon at the studio was broken. Which you believed to be both a blessing and a curse as you watched your girlfriend strip herself of her shirt - exposing her sports bra and glistening abs. She refused to stop dancing despite the heat of the evening sun that insisted on shooting its golden rays directly at the studio windows; you mentally cursed at it. It was getting late and you urged her to take a short break and to stay hydrated but when Bada hyper fixated on something - the thing being a section of choreography that she was desperate to perfect - it was difficult to redirect her focus. 

Bada Lee loved to dance. She loved to move to the rhythm as the emotion of music translated through her body and limbs - accompanying the beat in its quest for impact. You were her number one fan. You adored Bada for her gift and you revelled in her joy for it, wishing her nothing but success. However, if granted one more wish perhaps you would wish for more of her attention.

“Bada come on, let’s go home please. It's getting late.” 

No answer, except for the shuffling and stepping of her shoes as she danced.

“Bada, can we go please, everyone has gone home. Aren’t you tired ?”

Nothing.

“Bada ?”

Nothing.

You suck your teeth in frustration and make your way over to the stereo - switching it off. You spin on your heel to face her, arms crossed as you wait for her to speak.

“What are you doing ?” Bada says in a low tone, voice teeming with irritation as she eyes you through the mirror.

“I'm getting your attention - that's what I'm doing, Bada.” Exasperation leading your words.

“Attention for what ? You know I don't have time for your games right now. Turn the stereo back on.”

“Did you not hear what I said ? It's late, can we go home now ? You’ve been rehearsing all day and your choreography looks fine.

“I really don't have time for this right now,” She says your name with exhaustion. “You know that this isn't just another choreo. You know that I'm preparing for Street Woman Fighter and you also know how important that is to me.”

You almost feel the burning sting of the venom on your tongue as you shoot back, “and how important am I to you ? I've been here by your side throughout this entire process - from when you got the invitation to join the show till now - I've been supporting you. But you don't recognise any of that. You ignore me. You stay out practising till stupid o'clock and then drag yourself through the door exhausted and in a bad mood. You're wearing yourself out and for what ?”

“You know why I practise as hard as I do. I don't need you berating me and my efforts. I'm already stressed the hell out. I'm the leader for fucks sake, I’m responsible for my entire team. Whether we win or lose - that's on me and me alone so yeah, I’m staying out till late practising. I know we haven't really spent time together recently but I hoped you would be a supportive girlfriend and waited for me - understand my burden and be patient with me. I-”

You cut her off with a harsh laugh, disbelief washing over you like ice as you struggle to digest her words. “You are so unbelievably selfish.” You take a step forward. 

“So selfish that you made yourself the victim here.”

Another step forward.

“So selfish that you don't even trust your teammates to do well on their own.”

Another step forward.

“So fucking selfish that you dont even realise that I have my own burdens and stresses. But here I am - quite literally waiting for you despite the fact that I have my own rehearsals to attend in the morning.” Your finger prods her chest as you stare up at her through eyes clouded with rage. “You’re not the only dancer in the world, Bada. The world doesn't revolve around you.”

You see her brows twitch before a scoff leaves her lips. She steps back, hands disheveling her fringe as she pushes it back in frustration. “I didn't ask for you to be here !” 

Her words grew a fist and punched you in the gut. 

“I don’t need you around me all the time. You’re allowed to do your own shit, I never said you couldn’t. Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” She grits through her teeth.

“What's driving me crazy is the fact that I have been silent and put up with this for weeks on end. I stayed quiet and smiled with understanding when you cancelled on me for the third time that one week. I brushed off the times where you didn’t respond to my texts or missed my calls because you were rehearsing all day. I have done a lot for you which you still refuse to acknowledge. Bada, all I want from you is your attention - that's all. I just want to feel like your girlfriend again.”

Bada’s body deflates with defeat, her face in her hands as she sighs. “Alright . . . I’m sorry.” She straightens up and looks you in the eyes. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow after your rehearsal. I’ll pick you up and we can go out after.”

Bada didn't turn up the day after. You waited for her. You rang her phone.

No response.

“We are done.” - The last words you sent to her phone.

———

Three months later and here you are - your hand gripping the door handle to the apartment of none other than your ex’s. You feel the base of the music and the vibration of laughter travel up your arm as you inhale a deep breath. This isn't a big deal. You’re over Bada Lee. You’re not even here for her, you came for Kirsten who invited you to celebrate. Sure, it was Bada’s team that won but this afterparty is to celebrate all the teams. You try to convince yourself. 

“What's taking them so long with the drinks-” 

You feel yourself jerk forward as the door swings open. Your throat dries up and your heart picks up speed as if attempting to jump out of your chest in hopes of escaping this encounter.

Standing before you is Bada Lee. Your eyes betray you as they scan her tall frame - the way her crop top hugs her body and her baggy pants exaggerate her silhouette. You can't help but think she looks good since you last saw her, which was three months ago. You definitely haven't been watching episodes of the show on tv. No, and even if you did it wasnt to see her finally execute the choreography that she worked hard on. You definitely didn't feel proud of her for accomplishing what she set out to do. And you most definitely didn't feel waves of jealousy crash through you when you saw the way she danced with other contestants and how they danced with her. No, you felt nothing for her. You tried to convince yourself.

“Oh. Hey.” She says in a cool tone as she gazes down at you, eyes scanning your outfit and a friendly smile resting on her lips.

“Hi.”

“We weren’t sure if you were still coming.”

“Yeah. I'm here. Where’s Kirsten ?”

“Oh, she's sitting over there. They're about to play a game or something. You're just in time.”

“Okay. I guess I'll see you around.” You move past her, beginning your beeline to Kirsten before you pause and turn around. “Um, congratulations by the way. I'm happy you won.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” The light behind Bada’s eyes light up, sending a spark your way as emotions ignite within you - emotions you attempted to extinguish. You both hold each other's gaze for a moment before you haul yourself away from whatever trance you were under and quickly resume your beeline toward Kirsten.

You smile and say your hellos to the group, your words of congratulations travelling across the room as you acknowledge the teams and your friends. Soon after you find yourself sitting in a circle as the mystery game, that nobody would say the name of, was about to begin. You raised a confused brow at Kirsten, who laughed nervously and quickly downed another shot. Before you could say anything, you feel a presence insert themselves opposite you in the circle. You turn to see Bada struggling to cross her long legs in between the two guys she forcefully wiggled herself between.

“Ok ! Everyones here, let's playyyy . . .” you hear Kirsten announce.

People mimic drum rolls and you hear giggling. You glance up at Bada and see her tugging at the fabric of her pants - a tell she did when she was nervous. 

“Seven Minutes in Heaven !” Kirsten exclaims with excitement before continuing, “but spin the bottle edition !”

You scrunch your brows in confusion as you turn to Kirsten. “What ? Why-”

Before you can finish Kirsten cuts you off, “Woahhh, no time for questions let the game begin. You first !” She says your name with a grin as she sets the bottle in the middle of the table and spins it for you. Your eyes flicker between the bottle and Bada. What if it landed on her ? There's no way you would go into a closet or room with her. 

The bottle continues its search for a victim.

No. There's no way it would land on Bada. There's about ten more people playing right now. You’ll be fine.

The spinning continues, almost mocking the state of your stomach as your nerves rattle you.

Bada feels her palms grow damp as she watches the bottle intently.

The bottle slows.

You’d rather kiss the sweaty alcohol potent guy on her right, you try to convince yourself. But fate, otherwise known as Kirsten, has other plans.

Everybody watches as the bottle slows and comes to a stop. 

Silence.

Your eyes follow the neck of the bottle only to see it pointing to the space between Bada and the guy next to her. You nearly sigh in relief before a hand reaches towards the bottle and quickly adjusts it to face Bada.

Your jaw drops.

Kirsten grins. “Woah, would you look at that ! It landed on Bada, what are the odds ?!” You have no time to collect your thoughts as you feel her pull you up and push you towards Bada - who was already up and ready. 

You hear supportive words from the group and some cheers as Bada guides you away from the lounge and down the hallway. 

“Um, where are we going ? What’s going on ?” You walk besides the taller girl. Very quickly you realise where you're headed.

“Bada, why are you taking me to your room ?” You stop dead in your tracks as she reaches the door. “What is going on anyway ? What’s with the game, do you really think I'll go with you into your bedroom ?”

She turns around and you see worry wired into her brows. Saying your name tenderly, Bada extends her hand out for you and she begins. “Listen, please.” 

You hesitantly place your hand in hers - slowly discarding all caution.

“I know this is a lot for me to ask you given how things ended between us but I need you to trust me.”

Your eyes look into each other, an unsaid dance of sparks and flames transpire between you once more and you know within you that you trusting Bada Lee is the right choice right now. 

So you nod your head, “I trust you.”

Bada’s lips twitch upwards in a small closed smile and she opens the door.

The door opens and you falter in your step.

Before you lay a path of lighted candles, guiding you deeper into the unexpected. Rose petals adorned the floor and bed as the gentle twinkling of fairy lights graced the walls and ceilings above you. You felt your heart race as you took it all in, but you were not prepared for the photographs that decorated the wall above the bed.

You turned to face Bada, who had been quiet this entire time - gauging your reaction. But before you could say anything, she spoke up. 

“Before you say anything, just give me seven minutes.”

She takes out her phone and sets the countdown to seven minutes.

You stand and stare, speechless and overwhelmed with emotions but you listen.

Bada steps towards you, hands taking yours before gently rubbing her thumb over your knuckles as she maintains eye contact. 

“I’m sorry.” She says.

“I’m sorry for neglecting you as my girlfriend. I’m sorry for ignoring you and not appreciating you when you were doing your best for me. I’m sorry for not doing my best for you even when I had the opportunity to. The day after we fought, I didn't ignore your call. I left my phone at the studio that morning because I was rushing to pick you up on time; I know it still doesn't sound good; I realised I left it and then had to go back and by then I saw your message and then saw that I was blocked. I didn't know what to do. I don't know why I didn't find another way to reach out but I figured that you needed space and I probably needed it too and I think that's ok. Over the months that we’ve been apart, there's not been one day that I haven't thought of you. I knew that no matter what, I wanted you back at the end of the day. We’ve already spent one year by each other's side and I want to spend many more . . .” 

Bada gently guides you, bringing you closer to the wall decorated with photos of the two of you.

“I look at these photos and I feel happy. I cherish these happy moments that we shared. However, I also appreciate the bad moments - times where I have fallen short. Those moments have helped me grow and learn from my mistakes, they've helped me to love you more and more each day. Yes, we’re here partying to celebrate our wins and experience on the show. But I'm here right now to celebrate you.”

Bada finishes by wiping a stray tear from your cheek and then you hear the sound indicating that time is up. 

You step back and let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding. You make your way up to the wall and a particular photo stands out to you. You laugh weakly, pointing to it. “I remember that night. I was sure you were going to get stuck on that slide but you did it anyway.”

Bada chuckles and you feel her presence directly behind you. Her warmth radiates onto you, awakening the butterflies in your stomach, adding more emotions into the cyclone that was turbulent in your mind.

Tears gloss over your eyes as you turn to face her. Her face wearing nothing but genuinity and hope as she anxiously waits for you to respond.

“You gave me seven minutes in heaven, quite literally,” you say with a weak laugh. But seven minutes is not enough for me to love you all over again - hell, I never stopped. I want forever in heaven with you, no matter how naive that may sound, I want it. But that's only if you want it, Bada.” 

The taller girl doesn't miss a beat, gently taking your hand into hers as she looks at you with intent.

“I want it,” She states with finality. “I want it so bad . . . I know I want you, so I want it.”

“Then prove it.”

The words leave your lips faster than you could process them but you feel Bada’s demeanour change slightly as she gazes at you - her eyes wandering around your body and face before settling on your lips. 

“You want me to prove it ? Are you sure ?”

You nod shyly, a small “yes” following after.

Bada’s lips curl up in a smirk as she steps ever closer to you.

You step back.

“How would you like me to prove it to you, hm ?” She steps forward.

“Make me feel special. Remember things about me . . .” You step back but your back hits the wall.

Bada’s smirk grows as her hands settle on either side of your head, effectively trapping you. “I think I can do that. I can make you feel a lot of things actually. And I do remember things about you . . . and your body.”

Her eyes undress you as you stand there - prey under her hungry gaze. Her fingers gently hold your jaw, angling it upwards to face her. 

“I've missed these pretty lips of yours. I think I remember them, but maybe I need a reminder.” She leans in, pressing her lips to yours and igniting a fiery exchange of passion. Your lips move together as her hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against her. A small moan escapes your lips as you feel her tongue slide against yours - both losing yourselves in each other. Bada pulls away slightly, gently tugging at your bottom lip with her teeth. “Fuck, baby dont make those sounds right now. Not when you’re wearing these clothes.” 

“Totally didn't wear them for you.” You tease.

Bada’s expression darkened with want as she drank in the sight before her once more, enjoying the view of your body as her hands explored along with her eyes. “Hm, I’m trying to decide whether to fuck you in these clothes or rip them off you. What do you want, princess ?”

You rubbed your thighs together at her words and licked your lips, staring into her eyes as she spoke. “Surprise me.” 

Bada bit her lip before sweeping you off your feet and throwing you onto the mattress. 

“Oh I will.”

Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf ! If you’d like to be tagged for future Bada fics lmk !!

Authors notes / Hiii omg sorry for the delay I had work all week then I fell sick . . . Was literally coughing up my lungs up as I wrote this but I survived ! I knew I couldn’t leave my shawty Bada behind 😣 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my fic ! Please lmk your thoughts and feel free to send requests 💗

[singaroundelay]

I've been thinking about this scene for days now.

By actual RL time (and not 8-ish weeks of episodes), we're a little more than half-way through the EPL season... give or take.

It's impossible to imagine with Trent being around all the time in the offices that he hasn't seen at least one Diamond Dog mounting up. Or, if he hasn't been present he's got to have heard the barking coming from the offices. (Show-wise, we got close with the monkey sounds and Trent being called a sadistic nature documentarians — otherwise the other DD scene is sans-Trent) He's had to have seen Roy storm off like he isn't going to fucking be involved and he doesn't care about any of them except we know he really does, sorry Roy.

So you have this man who has always been on the outside looking in. We know from James Lance's own head canons that Trent was bullied by his father for being other. Growing up queer (even if we don't know how long he was closeted) he always would have been seen as an other growing up. An outsider.

Then he becomes this world class journalist, and though he might have unfettered access in the sports world, he's still on the outside looking in. He's not invited into locker rooms. He's only ever here to pass judgment on everyone around him.

And then Ted happens. Then AFC Richmond happens. And through a series of events, Trent completely upends his life for this ray of sunshine known as Ted Lasso. Ted helps him see that he's not an outsider in the way that Ted's gravitational pull is able to bring people together. He had Roy at Coach. He has Jamie acting like a team player.

He has Trent seeing the best in people.

Is it any wonder why he positively glows when he's around Ted? Why he's stopped masking his true self to the point where others can see he's a total fucking dork? (But he's my our dork...)

But even as Trent starts to gain trust of those around him, he still considers himself an observer. An outsider.

Until Roy storms out and leaves Trent in the room with the Diamond Dogs.

Beard: The Diamond Dogs are a group of men committed to supporting each other by sharing their most intimate thoughts, feelings and experiences. You in or out? Trent: Oh, I'm in.

No hesitation whatsoever. He doesn't need to know any more.

Because for the first time in his life, Trent is on the inside and he's going to grab that with both hands and never, ever let go.

That smile ❤️ It's the smile of a man who, at last, is part of something and isn't on the outside looking in.

For the record, Trent now officially knows if a marriage proposal is ever in the cards — don't do it in Paris.