#Good Dinner Places Singapore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheriladycl01 · 2 months

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Would you be up for writing a fanfic with Lando or Max x reader where reader also races but due to the training and harsh training her team and trainer are putting her through develops an ED (common among competitive sports and I’ve got experience 😭) maybe Reader faints or her bf finds out? No problem if not 😘 love your writing!

Those inward struggles - Max Verstappen x Driver! Reader

Plot: After having to change you diet and do more work after struggling in Singapore you spend a year on strict training away from your boyfriends knowledge. What happens when a year on and people are noticing how much more exhausted your looking after each race.

Warnings: Eating Disorder, Reader Being Sick

Singapore and Qatar 2022 was extremely hard for you. Your body temperature in the car didn't regulate that well and you lost way more weight than any other driver.

You new that the 2023 season was going to be even harder with where the races were placed in the year.

Your physician wanted you to keep the weight off. The lower your body mass, the less you'd struggle with the heat. That was their thought process and that's what they deemed best for you as a woman. So of course, you trusted the team's decisions and you started to train more, and eating in a calorie deficit.

They'd come up with a plan for you to loose a safe amount in a safe amount of time, however it almost felt like a competition and you wanted to be as ready as possible.

At first it was hard, you craved sugar and grease the most but eventually once the majority was out of your system the vegetables and fruits started to taste like when you have a sip of that half stagnant water at 3am when your body decided to lower your thirst bar all the way down.

Max as a driver had also seen how much more you were with your personal trainer, and how it didn't just stop when you got home as you would often be in your home gym.

You'd serve yourself less and meals than him and he noticed these little things. Of course he did, he'd been obsessed with you since he was a 13 year old and both of you met in karting.

You started dating a year before he got into F1 quite literally being the definition of childhood romance. But this did mean that he knew you like the back of his hand.

"Baby, how about a sweet treat?" he asks holding up your fav type of cookie waving it in front of your face.

"I really shouldn't, I think the team wouldn't be happy if they found out I was eating more than i should!" you explain to him, continuing to wash the dishes from earlier that night.

"But... you didn't have much for dinner and you skipped lunch!" he asks remembering what you'd eaten throughout the day.

"Oh? So your keeping tabs on me now?" you ask looking him over with a soft yet teasing frown.

"Well, when your with me for a good portion of the day I notice" he grumbles making you turn your head to him at that tone, it wasn't one he used often.

"Huh?" you say leaving the dishes fully in the sink before placing a hand on your hip.

"Look, It's not just me noticing it but your not healthy right now!" Max offers and you turn back round to do the washing up.

Your trainer said you might feel a little tired and icky while you were on such a strict diet but once you'd got to your goal weight you'd feel better.

"Please just eat the cookie!" he smiles and you roll your eyes. You take the cookie and finish it off under his watchful eye. It tasted so good, but you almost gagged at how heavy the chocolate felt at the back of your throat and how you could feel the chunkiness of the chewed batter.

There wasn't that fresh aftertaste you been getting recently from the various fruits and veges you'd been relying on to get you eating something.

You gagged at something that used to be a delicacy too you, something that would excite you. However you finished it off to please Max. Once he was satisfied you had your filling he explained he was going out to a set with Lando, Daniel and Charles.

You'd already said you wanted to stay home today.

The minute he was out the door you were in the bathroom getting the sugary sweet treat out of your body, feeling disgusting from having had it.

The guilt was eating away at you the minute you had it, you knew just how unhappy the trainer would be. You spent the rest of the evening in the gym, weighing yourself before and after the session.

To your dismay there was no improvement and you sat in the gym crying over you predicament.

It was time for the 2023 Qatar Grand Prix, you were already struggling just walking round the paddock in the areas that didn't have aircon. When you'd done your track walk, you could feel the damp sweat on areas of your body you didn't know was possible.

However, you pushed and pushed yourself through the whole weekend, you drunk lots of water and made sure to keep up with the exercising and kept eating to a minimum.

When you'd got in the car for the first practice your hard work seemed to pay of, coming P4. Again in qualifying you'd had a fastest lap in Q2 and split the Mercedes up Q3 coming P3 behind Max and George. Both of these weren't too bad, it was in short bursts that didn't make you too hot.

However as the weekend moved forward, it was obvious to your team, to Max and to the media that you were becoming more and more exhausted. A lot of people noted that your tailored race suit was starting to bag in places it shouldn't and that you had sunken areas on your face, making you look all the more exhausted.

The Sprint shootout was awful, you placing 9th fastest overall, which compared to your earlier racing was no good for you or your team.

You only managed to move up one place to P8 in the Sprint, meaning you were in the points but you were taken to the medical tent after reporting feeling dizzy and your sight spotting.

Max had headed over to the Aston Martin garage asking for you, all the mechanics just saying you were still with medical. He rushed over, quicker than his car on a flying lap as no-body actually knew what was wrong with you.

"Y/N?" you'd heard as he'd come storming in looking around for you.

"I'm in here!" you said and he came over taking your hand in his.

"What's going on, what's wrong?" he asks looking over you.

"Nothing, just had a bit of a migraine. Apparently not enough water!" you lie, knowing the doctors were still doing tests but they said you were free to leave.

You'd left, he'd comforted you at the hotel making sure you had everything you could possibly need before you both slept away the tire of the day.

Sunday of course was a shit show. Medical still hadn't fully worked out what was wrong with you and they were debating pulling you from the race. You'd refused saying you were fine to race.

You were 20 laps in when your vision started to blur until ringing in your head occurred.

You tried to keep up with the fluids from your drinks tube but they were just heating up along with everything else in the car.

"Y/N are you okay. Medical have just deemed you should be racing. We want to retire you" your engineer comes through at lap 50.

"7 more laps, I'll be fine" you groan. You'd managed to stick to P4 for the majority of the race. But now that vision in your left eye was pretty poor you were taking turns a little more hesitantly meaning you were down in P6.

You defended from Ocon like your life depended on it, and finally pulled up to the area where the cars sit when the race it over. You sit in the car, in silence trying to get your vision back and stop shaking.

You body ran cold, you were shivering now and could feel the cold sweat in your suit, you wanted to reach up and take your helmet off more than anything but your arms didn't obey.

So you just sat there, until some Aston Martin mechanics came through with water. They helped you out and up handing you a bottle of water. But with the ringing not having stopped your vision completely went as you fell back onto the hard ground of the track.

Max once he'd found out his team and your team and pretty much everyone had kept you fainting from him a secret he had yelled, a lot, at anyone and everyone he could.

Even Lando and Oscar in the cool down room had to be at the receiving end of his wrath.

After his podium that he had tried to make as quick as possible he was right with you. Yelling at everyone while making sure you were getting the correct medical attention.

When he found out the reason behind you fainting and the fact that you drove the last few laps half sighted he was back to MAD MAX, and oh boy it wasn't a pretty sight.

He couldn't believe your team who were supposed to make sure you were in the best health had actually been hindering you and not helping you.

To say the he and Rupert his own personal trainer would be taking over from now on and he'd be hiring a private nutritionist to get you back on track to your starting F1 weight in 2022.

He loved you and would do anything for you.

Taglist:

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the-offside-rule · 2 months

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Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - It's Always Been You

Requested: yes

Prompt: 4) "You deserve better."

Warnings: nope, but long iwl

As the paddock seemed normal in it's all too familiar business and loudness, Y/n found solace in between hospitality lounges, with the stacks of Red Bull Racing tyres as her only form of company. The scent of rubber and gasoline enveloped her as she sought refuge from the shattered pieces of her heart. Tears streaked down her cheeks, leaving a trail of black from her eyeliner. As the sister of Max Verstappen, Y/n was no stranger to the high-speed world of Formula 1. Her heart, however, had taken an unexpected detour when she fell for Carlos Sainz, the charming driver who had once occupied a special place in her life. She remembers when she first met him, back when her twin and him were teammates. There was always casual flirting but then when Y/n finished up school in 2016, the pair began going on dates since her visits to the paddock became more and more common, then becoming basically constant once they made it official. They were the it couple and it felt like no other couple could compare. How they looked at eachother, how they spoke of one another, it seemed too good good be true...until the faithful night after the Singapore Grand Prix win when Carlos decided to call it quits.

The music pulsed through the air as Carlos downed one shot after another, his laughter filling the space. Y/n, his girlfriend, tried to catch his attention, but he seemed oblivious, lost in the sea of people. "Carlos? I wanna go dance." Y/n said. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead." Carlos replied, turning back to his group of instagram models who fanned over him, all desperate for the same thing; dick and clout. She rolled her eyes and walked away. "Fine, do whatever." As she walked away, the girls began giggling at her little outburst and Carlos didn't once stick up for Y/n. He was never like this before. He wasn't even like this at their romantic dinner the night before. But Y/n got on with it and did what she wanted to do; dance.

As she lost herself in the music, a man managed to gather the courage and make his way towards her. "Hey gorgeous." The stranger smiled, dancing along with Y/n. Since Carlos was surrounded by these stupid instagram models, the least Y/n could do was talk to a guy surely. "Hey." Their conversation continued until the topic of relationships came up, to which Y/n said that she had a boyfriend.

"I don't see him." The stranger grinned, leaning closer. "Well, you see that guy up there with the huge bottle of champagne?" The guy nodded. "That's my boyfriend. Carlos. He just won the Grand Prix a few hours ago." The stranger looked between the spaniard and Y/n. "He looks occupied." He said, referring to the hoard of girls surrounding him. "Honestly, who gives a fuck. The only reason he won it was because Red Bull had a fuck up." The man laughed at Y/n's drunken joke, but she couldn't help but feel bad for undermining her boyfriend's hard work.

As she swayed with her newfound dance partner, Carlos watched from afar, a twinge of jealousy gnawing at him. His strides became purposeful, marching towards the dancing couple. His vision blurry, he poked the stranger. He turned. "Hey, you're Y/n's boyfriend. How you doing man?" He asked, putting his hand out. Carlos slapped it away. "Yeah, whatever. Who are you?" Y/n arched a brow at the sudden rudeness of Carlos. "I've been talking to Y/n since you've been occupied." He joked. "Are you accusing me of cheating on my girlfriend?"

"Carlos, what the fuck?" Y/n asked. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, no, I know what you want and you're not going to get it." Carlos began shoving the guy. "Because when I go back to my hotel room, I'm going to have her on her knees and screaming my name, while you sit by yourself with your left hand doing all the work-"

Carlos was silenced by a hard thump to the face, that ended with both his lip and nose bleeding. Carlos stumbled back, holding his nose. "Carlos!" Y/n rushed to his side, concern etched across her face. "Carlos, we need to leave. This is getting out of hand." He pushed her away, his drunken gaze defiant. "I don't need you. I can handle myself." Ignoring her, he swung at the guy, completely missing him and falling to the floor. "Carlos, we're going." Y/n repeated, this time more stern. Carlos scoffed and despite the chaos, Y/n managed to guide Carlos outside and hailed a cab. The ride home was tense, filled with silence interrupted only by the distant sounds of the city nightlife.

As Y/n scanned their key card, Carlos lay against the wall beside the door, looking at Y/n with pure hatred in his eyes. "You're such a bitch sometimes." He muttered. Y/n turned to him. "Excuse me?" The door beeped and Carlos practically burst it down. "You heard me. You're You're a bitch sometimes." Y/n closed the door behind her and followed Carlos to the bed where he kicked off his shoes. "How am I a bitch? People were filming you and I don't think you want to answer to your PR people tomorrow morning." Y/n rolled her eyes and sat down on the sofa, taking her heels off promptly. "Okay? You're still a bitch. I could have taken him." Y/n's frustration bubbled over as she demanded an explanation. "Carlos, what's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

Carlos glared at her, venom in his words. "I'm tired of this, Y/n. I don't want you in my life anymore." Stunned, Y/n pleaded. "Carlos, what are you tired of? We don't argue ever. Please, let's talk about it in the morning. You're drunk, and we can figure things out then." But Carlos was resolute. "No, I want you gone now. Pack your things and leave." Her eyes flickered as a few tears had fallen.

"You're so shit at this mate!" Max cackled, taking another sip of his beer whilst Pierre missed yet another goal on FIFA. The hotel room was filled with laughter as a few drivers had finished their clubbinv prematurely to instead play a few games of FIFA. The camaraderie and banter echoed through the room, creating a light atmosphere that temporarily eased the pressures of the racing world. Amid the gaming frenzy, a sudden knock on the door disrupted the jovial mood. "I'll get it." Charles said, walking towards the door. He expected some food from room service since they paid for it, but instead he was surprised to find Y/n Verstappen standing there, tears streaming down her face. "Hi, Charles." She sniffled.

"Y/n. Are you okay? What happened?" Charles asked, genuine concern etched on his face. Y/n, struggling to compose herself, managed to choke out. "Is Max here?"

Charles nodded, realizing something serious must have transpired. He stepped aside, allowing Y/n to enter the room. "Max? It's Y/n." The laughter hushed as the other drivers sensed the shift in the atmosphere. Max stood up. "Y/n? What's wrong?" A few words had been spoken in Dutch and it seemed that each word Y/n said, made Max angrier. The other drivers simply watched on, wanting to see what happened. "Where is he?" Max demanded in a demanding tone. "Max, please don't. That's the last thing I need tonight." Y/n pleaded. "No, I'm getting dad and we are sorting this." Max replied. "Max, no! He'll kill him!"

"And I will bury him. Don't worry about it." The drivers shared glances amongst one another as the siblings had run out of the room, closing the door behind them. "Are we going to see what happens or what?" Charles asks. "Seems like family stuff. I am leaving them to it." Pierre replied. "Seems logical." Lando added. Charles groaned as he left the room, following the sounds of loud shouting in both Dutch and English.

He looked down to see two figures banging on Carlos' door. "You don't treat my sister like this!" Max shouted as Y/n pulled from his arm, trying to deter him. "Max! Stop!" Charles shouted, trying to mediate, urging everyone to calm down. "If someone did this to your sister, you'd you'd the same!" Max shouted back at Charles. "Max! Not here! There are people trying to sleep." Charles said, reasoning with the dutchman. The commotion drew the attention of hotel staff and even a few curious guests. "Get out here, you fucking pussy!" Max had begun kicking the door now, not caring if it broke and deciding he'd worry about it if the door did break. The chaos continued until Max's father, joined the fray. The yelling and banging intensified, creating a scene that could be heard throughout the hotel.

Eventually, the rage subsided, as everyone agreed that Carlos must have passed out drunk and that it was a conversation best having in the morning. Max and Jos walked away as Charles stood by Y/n, tear-stained and emotionally drained. "Do you have a place to stay?" Charles asked. "I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind letting you stay." Y/n shook her head. "No. They're playing FIFA I don't want to have to kick them all out." Y/n replied. "Then I'll let you have my bed and Ill sleep on the floor." Charles offered. She smiled. "As nice as you're being right now, I don't need your pity. Im just going to fall asleep in my room and deal with this in the morning." She said. "Y/n, you can't possibly do that. I wouldn't wouldn't sleep in the same bed as him. You deserve better." Before Charles could even trg to convince her, she opened the door, re-entered her and Carlos' hotel room and closed it again without another word.

She had moved on from Carlos. In all honesty, she hadn't heard a lot from him. That was until she had come to her first Grand Prix single in 8 years. It felt weird not having someone to hold hands with, but she got on with it, showing her poker face and pretending not to care about her recent breakup. As she walked, she noticed an all too familiar spaniard, holding a gorgeous woman in his arms. It was a model, a model Y/n had seen on the catwalk of the Ferrari fashion event. That's where they must have met...back when Carlos was still in a relationship with Y/n. And that's how she found herself hiding like a kid scared of the dark, in between the Red Bull and Ferrari hospitality where no one could find her.

"Are you okay?" Y/n jumped as she wiped her eyes. "I- yeah. I'm fine. Who are-" She paused as she looked up to see Charles walking towards her. "What are you doing here?" Charles asked. "Inspecting the tyres, you?" Y/n replied quickly, drying her eyes. "Talking with the tyre inspector." Charles replied, sitting down next to her. Y/n looked up, her eyes swollen but grateful for the company. "Why are you crying?" Charles asked. "It's just-" Yhe tears had started again. "Carlos' new girlfriend is so much prettier, and she's so much skinnier and her hair is different, her eyes are different, we are just nothing alike and Carlos is just so happy with her." Y/n sobbed. Charles wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him as her tears stained his red shirt. "He's moved on and I'm sat, befriending stacks of tyres."

"Well that's not true. I'm not a stack of tyres, am I?" Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke Charles had made. "No, no you're not." She replied. "You seem to be much nicer to talk to than a set of tyres, to be fair." Unbeknownst to her, Charles had been silently witnessing the intricate dance of emotions unfolding in the paddock. His infatuation with Y/n had started years ago, at one of Max's early kart races.

"Charles, you cut me off there! You could've caused a crash," Max argued, frustration evident in his voice. Charles, eager to impress Y/n, tried to maintain composure. "Max, I had the racing line! You should've anticipated my move." He chuckled, looking over to Y/n subtly to see her reaction. "Anticipated? You came out of nowhere!" Max shot back. As Charles vehemently defended his position, Y/n couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She expected a spirited rivalry, but Charles's insistence on being right grated on her nerves.

"Charles, back down. You know I'm right." Max urged, trying to defuse the tension. Yet, Charles, fueled by both competitiveness and a desire to impress, doubled down. "Max, I won't back down when I'm right." The harder Charles pushed, the more Y/n saw a side of him she didn't like. She began to see why Max always yelled about how much of a diclhead Charles was and she fully agreed now. "Charles, seriously, I will be to the stewards about it." Max insisted, the frustration evident in his tone. But Charles, in his pursuit of proving himself, didn't heed the advice. As the argument escalated, Y/n couldn't help but feel a growing distaste for Charles.

"You know what, Charles? Forget it. We're done talking," Max declared, grabbing his helmet and walking away with Y/n behind him. "Hij is een klootzak." Y/n muttered. "Ah, dus nu zie je die kant van hem?"

"Why are you even here? Don't you hate me?" Y/n asked, too tired to move her head from his shoulder. Charles sighed. "I never hated you, Y/n. You started hating me so I pretended to hate you back." Her brow furrowed in confusion. "But you always seemed so distant, so cold." Charles cast his gaze downward, confessing, "I didn't want Max to think I was interfering. I liked you from when I was in karting, but you started dating Carlos and I just gave up."

"I wish I had known, Charles," Y/n admitted, wiping away tears. "I could've used a friend." Charles offered a reassuring smile. "Well, you have one now. And if you'll let me, maybe more than just a friend." She sighed. "As much as I would love to, I just don't think I'm ready to have a boyfriend, let alone date my ex's teammate." Y/n replied. "That's fine. He's out of a Ferrari seat for next year anyway." Y/n smiled. "Listen, I don't care how long it takes. I've waited like what, 15 years already? I may as well hold on for another while."

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x female oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you

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povlnfour · 7 months

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ PADDOCK TO PADDOCK (LN) PART 4

series masterlist | prev part | next part

lando norris x fem!horse rider!reader

texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

texts cont. ੈ✩‧₊˚

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by daniel.jpg and 58,291 others

lando.jpg met the horse and treated the olympian (!) to dinner

👤 tagged yourusername

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user3 OMGGGGG THEY’RE FRIENDS AGAIN

user1 y’all had me WORRIED for a second there

daniel.jpg much prefer her face to yours

lando.jpg we all do

user9 🙄🙄🙄

yourusername omg i made it to the jpg account

lilymhe text me NOW

texts with lily ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 200,876 others

yourusername august slipped away

👤 tagged lando norris, flo_norris_showjumping, and 3 others

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user6 DID THE FAMILY DINNER HAPPEN????

user1 y/n hanging out with landos family🫣🫣🫣 oh they’re in LOVE

flo_norris_showjumping i LOVED seeing you again🥹 even if my brother hogged you for most of the night

user3 NOT FLO EXPOSING LANDO????

yourusername you’re still my number 1🩷🩷🩷

carlossainz55 please tell me lando wasn’t allowed in the kitchen?

yourusername oh god no, his job was set the table

user2 so glad i don’t have to fist fight lando anymore

landonorris i’m sorry WHAT

landonorris babe protect me from your fans

user3 BABE?????

user1 HELAKFIDJS BABE?

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 243,077 others

landonorris one of us is a passenger princess. guess which one

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user4 SHE CANT DRIVE FREE HER

user5 i am so used to them being gross and in love on my home page but i still gasped

yourusername not my fault i cant drIVE

landonorris sweetheart that kind of is YOUR fault

user3 i cant with these nicknames omg

danielricciardo mate tbf it’s usually you

user13 was she doing her makeup in the car bc mood😭

landonorris she was and i’m still finding glitter everywhere days later

lily’s story, texts w lily, twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 101,572 others

mclaren your move, @/williamsracing🧡

👤 tagged yourusername

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user5 AHAHAHAH ADMIN VS ADMIN IS BACK

user7 who y’all backing? williams could fight i reckon👀👀👀

alex_albon @/yourusername we need to TALK.

landonorris uh oh dads angry

alex_albon @/landonorris lazy town looking ass

williamsracing oh it’s on👀 we heard she prefers our catering anyway!

scuderiaferrari if she’s here for catering, she’s in the wrong place!

user1 the girls are fighting!

yourusername williams mclaren look at me this isn’t you

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by mclaren, alex_albon and 239,556

landonorris tough stint lately but got some nice incentive today. podium incoming?

view all 19,506 comments

user9 she’s been in every single one of his posts lately. it’s concerning

user7 he’s not gonna fuck you

user3 INCENTIVE? WHATS THE INCENTIVE?

yourusername 🤭 good luck for singapore

liked by landonorris

user5 WHAT ARE THEY PLOTTING

taglist: @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff

a/n: 👀 i am having sm fun writing this. v excited to write the next part👀

taglist found here!!!

- giselle xx

#🐴 paddock to paddock #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x reader #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris blurb #lando norris scenario #lando norris au #lando norris imagine

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angelrari · 9 months

Text

emotional bruises · pt. vi

lando norris / carlos sainz x singer!reader faceclaim: emilia mernes

a/n; hi everyone! i'm still travelling, but i'll be back very soon and i'll be able to update more regularly. once again, tysm for leaving comments and suporting this ♡ ps. i blame olivia rodrigo for what happened on the last part.

prev | next

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yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt and 1,474,173 others

yourusername singapore you were insane tonight! ❤

view all 12,220 comments

carmenmmundt reina 👑

francisca.cgomes i couldn't stop screaming you're the best!!!

scuderiaferrari red and black is always a great option!

username i believe she's had enough of the f1 besties

yndaily

liked by username, username and 6,834 others

yndaily y/n at the singapore grand prix's afer-party.

view all 912 comments

username at the WHAT

username oh shit here we go again

username the glowup>>>>>>>

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carlos made the promise that he would be in contact with you and he kept it. since the night when lando and you fought, carlos made sure to text and call you just to know how you are. at first, very few messages would be exchanged, you'd talk about mostly talk about work and travelling. but things changed rapidly. you started opening yourself to him, finding comfort in his voice and in his words. and he started sharing his deepest thoughts with you too.

you had mixed feelings. your heart was still healing from the heartbreak, but you couldn't deny the excitement you felt whenever you saw carlos name pop up on your phone. you wished things were more simple, but the sadness in your heart was too heavy to ignore.

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yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, carlossainz55 and 1,474,173 others

yourusername and here's the end of an incredible asian tour. japan you have a special place in my heart ❤️

view all 10,138 comments

alexandrasaintmleux the prettiest

username step. on. me

username carlos liking this like just to remind us which side he's on

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carlos wouldn't make it to your show in tokyo, not unless he violated the speed limits, but, as soon he was done with his obligations in suzuka, he got into his ferrari and started driving to tokyo. a nearly five hour drive wasn't that much when he'd spent his life in cars. he wanted to surprise you. maybe take you out to dinner, if you hadn't eaten yet. and he wished that it'd make you happy somehow.

he'd always thought you had a good heart. not long after lando introduced you to him, he realized how kind you were. you'd always find him whenever he'd got bad results on a race just to try to comfort him. isa said on multiple occasions she loved hanging out with you and only good things were said when you were the main topic of a conversation. and when his relationship with isa ended, you had reached out to him to know how he was and if he needed a shoulder to cry on.

carlos had watched your relationship with lando slowly fall apart. he had seen lando ignore your calls, he had heard lando making up excuses and he had seen him the night he cheated on you. carlos tried to stop it, but lando didn't care. he'd told him to think twice before leaving with that girl, but lando didn't listen.

when you disappeared, carlos wanted to text you, ask you how you were doing and say comforting words as you did with him, but, being lando's close friend, he thought it wouldn't be a good idea. he regretted it the moment he saw you at the hotel elevator, when you told him everything you went through and he felt he'd been a shitty friend.

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devouringdevoutly · 1 month

Text

007: Singaporean Sling [G!P]

Summary: She was never this cock drunk before she met her.

Horny? Yes.

Wanting to be dicked down every time of the day? Absolutely not.

But as the seasons change so does Audrey's sexual appetite.

Note: This is a self-indulgent fic, crossposting it here on tumblr is basically a birthday gift to myself. Again, this is a work of fiction and does not reflect real life situations and relationships. Originally posted on ao3. CW: Smut, Drunk Sex, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Futanari, G!P/Girl Penis, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Lactation Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Lemon. Pairing: Audrey/Bada Language: English Words: 2,676

"You wore my clothes again."

Bada says with a sigh and it was hard to discern whether it was meant to be one of annoyance or lust. Maybe it was both but who knows, really.

They just came back from the nightly company dinner their manager relentlessly dragged them to, every single night without fail since they both arrived in the country. It was beginning to feel like it's quite the chore no one wanted to do. But who were they to refuse and complain? When they were getting sumptuous yet equally scrumptious food for free.

"And what about it?" Audrey cheekily responds as she plops down on her hotel room's sofa. The mix of the high end liquors and the cheap cocktails they basically chugged under the provision of their flagrantly drunk labelmates and staff, was definitely getting to them. Thankfully, Bada had managed to take the both of them back to Audrey's suite before they went insane from the loud music and just overall embarrassment of having to deal with their drunk co-workers' high jinks.

Audrey's suite was big. Big enough to accommodate two tipsy and touchy girlfriends that is. The room overlooked almost all of Singapore's best sites. The view was to marvel at and any person of whatever standing would've been in an awestruck, as the city's bright lights beautifully contrasted the dark empty sky as it was already deep into night.

Under usual circumstances, Bada would've taken a picture and posted it on her Instagram story with some cheesy music she had been listening to recently, and then paired it with some banal ass caption to cater to her deranged fans who would overthink what it meant. But she was in no mood for that tonight, not when a literal goddess was laying right in front of her. The view just paled in comparison. If there was anything that should be captured by her in the first place, it was to be Audrey and only Audrey.

"Take it off." The older one demanded.

"No." The younger defies playfully, recklessly pushing her girlfriend's buttons as she lounged on the sofa and stretched her body like a cat.

"No?" Bada chuckles in disbelief with Audrey's antics. She then easily swooped her off the couch. Throwing her on her shoulder, and walking to the bedroom with her body in tow without breaking any sweat. Normally, Bada wouldn't even be able to lift that much weight with her almost lanky figure, but her vigor when it came to her beloved girlfriend was not to be underestimated nor questioned. One look at her and anyone would think, "Damn, that's a face men used to go to war for." And that only fueled her primal desire to claim her, if she were to be honest.

Audrey doesn't squirm or try to get out of her grasp, instead she enjoys it as it lasts before she gets gently thrown on her queen size bed. She hits the duvet with a barely audible plop! as she giggled—it was all going according to her plan so far. Bada then crawls over to her body, her taller frame almost covering her whole and she fucking loved it. The thought of the older woman patently enveloping her, just sent a different kind of excitement down to her already soaked and stimulated cunt.

She then gets closer to her neck, inhaling every bit of her scent like a hound about to devour its prey. And god did Audrey smell so fucking good. Her sweat due to the Singaporean sun pitilessly toasting them as they walked around the amusement park earlier, and her strawberry gourmand fragrance that was still clinging onto her lightly tanned skin, only managed to turn her on even more.

Bada then placed chaste kisses along her neck before placing her plump lips against hers. Their lips met as if waves crashing into shore, her hands roaming around Bada's back wanting to pull her closer than their current position. She then grinded her body against hers, not failing to notice the older woman's hardening length underneath her khaki shorts.

"Fuck. I told you not to wear that hoodie and jogger pants, it's hot as shit here in Singapore." Audrey only giggled at the older's sudden reprimand. She knew that from the start but she insisted in still stealing her clothes and wearing it, parading herself around the city as Bada's to those with heedful eyes and letting them souse in their own surmisings. Bada then hastily removed her clothing only to be taken by surprise.

"You're not wearing anything?" Bada asks as she stares at Audrey's body, all in its naked glory. Her eyes then lingered on her girlfriend's already hardened tits, the brush of the hoodie's fabric on her chest all day making it so.

"Nope." Her younger girlfriend replies with a lustful grin.

"You're such a fucking tease, you know that right?" The older woman complains before latching her mouth onto one of Audrey's pink buds, earning a loud gasp from her.

"Y-yeah… Fuck, are you trying to milk me or what?" Audrey finally responded, her voice heavy and thick with bafflement as her girlfriend hungrily sucked her tit. Her other hand playing with the unoccupied one, basically encompassing her whole breast. It wasn't that big in the first place so it was easy to do so. She never had a problem with it as Bada constantly reassured her that it was the perfect size for her to grab and hold, like it was her personal hand warmers in winter.

"What if I am?" The older woman finally lifts her head, her mouth finally detaching from her now sore nips. Audrey whines as her dampened nip was met by the cold breeze of the room's air-conditioning.

"I wanna fuck you pregnant." Bada says thoughtlessly and Audrey could only raise an eyebrow at her. The constant boob grabbing and massaging, the incessant hand placement on her stomach and her thumb rubbing circles on the soft yet flat surface, the pull out method… It all made sense now.

"Then do it." Audrey says unthinkingly, green lighting whatever was bound to happen from then on.

"What?" Bada asks dumbfounded.

"Did you not hear what I just said?" The sudden change of tone from Audrey could only put a devilish grin on Bada's face. She could only respond by going down on Audrey and suddenly inserting a finger inside of her, earning a loud moan from her girlfriend.

"You're quite loose." Bada plainly says as she inserts another finger inside of Audrey. Her cunt had welcomed her so easily, that it wasn't much of a struggle pumping her fingers in and out of her hole.

"P-repped myself e-earlier… Do you not like it? A-ah!" The younger woman cries out as Bada sped up her pace. Her long and slender fingers were an absolute godsent to anyone who has had the opportunity to be fucked by her. Each plunge was met with a sickly sweet sound of Audrey's pussy spewing out her own juice. The younger woman then tightened around her digits before wetting and totally coating it with her cum.

"No, thank you baby. It just means that I can fuck you much easier." She then pulls her fingers out of her wetness, sucking every single bit of Audrey's sap that was discharged on her fingers. She tasted salty, a bit sour with a hint of sweetness… She tasted like ripe mangoes and peaches dipped in sea water. If she had to go through hell and beyond like Dante did, just to get a taste of her every single day then she would do it in a heartbeat. Bada then gently grabs the back of Audrey's head, before pulling her into a beguiling kiss to distract her from what would happen next.

Bada would've eaten her out with no shame if her cock wasn't throbbing painfully at this point, screaming at her about wanting to be let out of its clothed imprisonment. She quickly got out of her own hoodie that matched with what Audrey was wearing earlier and zipped down her khaki shorts. Clearly not wanting to waste any more time and miss out on fucking her girlfriend like a dog in heat.

Bada then teased her by rubbing her raw cock on Audrey's wet folds, letting her feel the hardness and every vein of her length. Dampening the side of her dick with each glide. She slides herself a few more times before slipping inside of Audrey's burrow which warranted the younger to claw her back. It stung like a bitch but the feeling of her tight walls around her cock was just too much for her to notice anything else at the moment. Bada let out a sigh of relief as her cock was now fully engulfed by Audrey's cavity.

Her younger girlfriend could only smile with pride as she salaciously gazed, ogled even at Bada's reaction. She knew that only her pussy could emit such a reaction from the famous dancer. Those bitches can desperately hop on her girlfriend's dick with their shriveled meat curtains all they want, but Bada would only want to fuck her cunt.

She then moved her hips in a lackadaisical manner, wanting to take it slow and ease the both of them to the rhythm of each thrust.

"F-fuck… forgot how big… y-you were…" Audrey comments, panting and stammering in between words as she physically feels her cunt adjust to Bada's girth and length. Bada swore she could die then and there. Her cock just sandwiched between the gummy enclosure felt sublime. She silently thanked all the gods that had blessed and guided her ancestors to have led her to this moment. Pounding the absolute sanity out of Audrey, their skins slapping with each slide of her cock in and out of Audrey's drenched cunt. Their moans and grunts of pleasure bouncing off the hotel bedroom, making a harmonious melody of their own even without singing.

Audrey was just like a limp vegetable at this point, unable to do anything but to tighten her grip on the sheets under Bada's roughening. She asked for it and so she'll take it like the champ she is. Her resolve was long gone the moment she had landed in the familiar South East Asian land, after her excruciating seventeen hour flight from Los Angeles to Singapore anyway. It had been almost two weeks since she had been physically near her girlfriend. Two weeks of not being able to hold her hand, not being able to hug her human equivalent of Poby from the cartoon show Pororo the Little Penguin, not being able to yap her pretty little mouth off about the most stupid and chronically online of things as she listened to her despite being tired from work and practice. And most importantly… not being able to get fucked by her handsomely gorgeous and charming girlfriend, whom she's convinced was written by Sappho herself.

The last time they had sex was on the night of their last concert, which coincidentally was also Audrey's birthday. Audrey didn't want any gift as she was more than grateful to have had Bada beside her on such a momentous occasion of her life. But it would be a grievous lie to deny that the birthday sex wasn't the cherry on top, as her birthday candles weren't the only thing she had blown that day.

She was never this cock drunk before she met her.

Horny? Yes.

Wanting to be dicked down every time of the day? Absolutely not. But things do change with time like the seasons do, Audrey realized that with the time she had spent flying back and forth from the U.S. to South Korea. Her sexual appetite only being heightened further once she entered her relationship with Bada.

Bada was her forthcoming. And the reason she had blossomed like a flower in spring, finally receiving its much needed tending after months of ruthless winter snow.

Audrey was then pulled back from her thoughts as Bada hit her spot again and again, she could only pull her closer to her as she moaned shamelessly. She secretly hoped that Emma snuck out of her own hotel room to go clubbing once again. The last thing she wanted to face in the morning was to be bombarded by her teasing. In which she admits, she rightfully deserves for their impudence as a young robust couple with a high libido to keep up with. But she won't let Emma have her win so easily, after months of bickering and play fighting with each other. She wasn't going to back down now.

Soon enough, Bada's body trembled as she thrusted into her one last time, unabashedly painting her walls white and coating her warm with her cum. And holy fuck did it feel good to her senses. She then followed Bada's high with her own, coating the older woman's cock with her own slick.

Bada laid on top of her for a while in which she didn't mind, it felt great even. To hold her close and so tenderly. Audrey then wondered if she would feel the same way once their own baby is placed on her chest, when she finally gives birth in the future. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. She felt butterflies in her stomach just at the thought of her possibly carrying their child a few weeks from now. Audrey then accidentally clenched multiple times around Bada just from those thoughts, earning a moan from the older.

"Babe. Shit. Was that not enough?" Bada asks, her ears heating up from the possible suggestion of a second round. Audrey's tightening cunt was basically draining her of every drop of cum from her cock at this point.

"Maybe." Audrey then brazenly grins at her like she's a Cheshire cat. Her big brown eyes gleaming with want and desire.

"Shush, that's enough princess. We still have work tomorrow." The older woman rationalized, Audrey wanted to protest against her decision but she was quite tired herself as it had been a long day. And so, Bada carefully spooned her and pulled the duvet over their naked bodies before the both of them headed off to dreamland.

A few days later…

It was time for Bada to go back home. Her schedule in Singapore was finally done and she had no excuse to overstay her welcome in the foreign country. She also had her own share of responsibilities waiting for her back in Seoul that she needed to attend to as soon as possible, so staying for a few more days was out of the conversation. Audrey had to stay behind and send her girlfriend off at the airport. She wanted to cry right then and there and Bada knew it. She hugged her and savored the warmth of her embrace one last time.

"We still have Vietnam in March. So don't miss me too much, babe." Bada says cheekily once she sees the tears threatening to fall from Audrey's eyes. She then cups her pretty girlfriend's face and gives her a goodbye kiss on both cheeks, forehead, nose, and finally her lips before Audrey leaned into her ear to whisper something.

"I'm not gonna miss you too much when I have my own miniature version of Bada Lee to accompany me." The younger slyly says to her before she was playfully pushed onto the entrance gates. Bada stood there dumbfounded, unable to say or confirm anything from Audrey as their company van drove off to her girlfriend's next agenda for the day.

She boarded her plane with the image of a pregnant Audrey clouding her mind, a smile formed on her face as she embraced the adorably amusing notion of her actually knocking her girlfriend up. God knows more than anyone else that she'd be more than grateful if it actually turned out to be true and not just some silly yet kind of cruel jest by Audrey.

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penaltyboxboxbox · 8 months

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13 or 14 for charlos? pretty please 🫶🫶🫶 (love your blog btw)

Charlos - complimenting their appearance / looking at their lips as they talk.....why choose i will just include both 👍 also. singapore pool origin story, because why not.

Charles lets himself sink down into the pleasantly cool pool, up to his chin, tilting his head back as the chlorinated water licks up the sides of his face and over his ears.

He stares up at the beginnings of stars in the dimming sky, moves his arms wide through the water; tiptoed feet just touching the bottom.

"Great view, eh?"

Charles eyes flit up, where a man stands hands on hips at the edge of the pool. His long dark hair curls up on the ends, his swim shorts rucked up on one leg, a vague tan line peeking through.

No, not a bad view at all, he thinks.

He nods weakly in the water, paddling closer, nodding again properly as his hand pulls him to the wall.

"Yes. It's beautiful. Beautiful city." Charles wipes a wet hand over his face. "Carlos."

Carlos grins, wide. Rather goofy.

"Yeah. Hows the water?"

"It's-"

Before he can answer, Carlos jumps over his head, the splash disrupting the stillness of their near-empty corner of pool.

Carlos resurfaces, shakes his head like a wet dog. Charles winces and holds his hands up at the drops that fly his way, shoving a splash back in Carlos' direction.

"Going to kick me in the head, mate! Be careful."

"Ah, don't worry. I'm always careful." Carlos runs his hands through his dampened hair, slicking it back to his head.

Charles stares. Carlos is gazing out at the skyline again, not paying attention. So Charles stares, a little longer.

"You have plans tonight?" Carlos asks suddenly.

"I mean..." Charles goes still, looks down at his legs, wiggly and deformed through the dark water. "This. Go for a swim. Go to bed. Not much."

"No fun..." Carlos turns back to him, splashing back with a dismissive wave of his fingers through the water. They both laugh. "You should enjoy the city now. After the race you will be dead, mate."

"It cannot be that bad. I've raced in the heat before-"

"Ay, don't underestimate it! It is the combination you know? The type of track, the focus-" Carlos draws a little circuit line through the water with his finger. "The humidity! You are swimming in the air, mate."

"Getting good practice then." Charles grins,

"Listen, Charles you may be cute but you are not special, Singapore is-"

Charles doesn't hear the rest of the comment, he sinks down into the water again.

He opens his eyes, and they sting from the chlorine. He looks at Carlos, swims past him a few feet. Watches him follow, splashing too much.

Cute. Why would he say cute?

Charles resurfaces by the far edge of the pool, the overlook, and Carlos is there beside him. He cranes his head over, and it makes his stomach flip.

Carlos' hand suddenly presses a teasing shove between his shoulder blades, and Charles exclaims, whipping around to smack Carlos in the arm. He's laughing, delighted. Charles feels himself flush.

"Stronzo." Charles rolls his eyes, smile creeping through.

"So you're free tonight? Yeah?" Carlos needles again.

Charles can't take his eyes off his smile, his mouth. Grinning and just slightly silly.

"I guess." He responds.

Carlos licks his lips, and Charles thinks for a brief second about what kissing him would feel like. It startles him. He licks his own lips in nervous response.

"Let me take you to dinner."

The way Charles' stomach flips makes him wants to sink back underwater and not resurface. Swim away and hope Carlos gets distracted by something else bright and shining in the Singapore skyline.

"Ok." He says instead.

It's a date, he doesn't say.

"Fantastic- I already know the place." Carlos looks proud. "I know you do not have troubles with looking nice but, it is fancy you know so. Dress up a little. We will talk strategy."

"Strategy." Charles nods. "Such a gentleman." he mumbles.

Carlos preens at the compliment. Charles pretends not to notice.

They both stare out at the skyline, the setting sun.

Making new allies never hurt anyone.

#charlos #1655 #my fic #romance writing asks #ask

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houseoftulips · 2 years

Text

Unfortunate Benefits | T. Kuroo ~ when he realized way too late

➤ ft: ex boyfriend!kuroo testuro x f!reader

➤ content warning: angst, alcohol

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After six years of not seeing each other with no contact in any shape or form - you two are now standing in the same restaurant at a small reunion.

You’d been living in Singapore all this time after graduating college and leaving your old life behind. You were in Japan to visit your family but when your old high school friends find out that you were, they just had to invite you.

Bokuto was especially insistent on you meeting up with them for dinner but his same emo mode appeared through the facetime call just like the old days. You were only there at the restaurant for him and Kenma but you knew that your 18 year old self was relieved to see Kuroo Tesuro again.

Your ex boyfriend/high school sweetheart was one of the reasons for you leaving the country after your rocky break up. Long story short, after all those years from high school towards the end of college was nothing but a lie and a joke to Kuroo.

From what you were told, Kuroo had asked you out during your first year of high school to get his elementary school crush to notice him. When he realized that he was never gonna get that attention he was just contempt on getting it from you. Not in the lovey-dovey way though. More like the I’m settling here because there’s no where else to go. Then he finally got that attention again after reuniting with his crush at one of MSBY’s volleyball game and left you soon after the encounter.

He spilled all his dirty secrets in you and practically admitted that he was cheating on you emotionally and using you as a comfort rag rather than his girlfriend. So you left while he was at his internship job during the day. Everything that was yours was erased from your shared apartment. He didn’t even try to contact you either so you knew that he never loved you over the course of your years together.

Bokuto and everyone else begged you to remain in Japan when you told them that you were leaving a few weeks after the breakup. But they knew that the once in a lifetime experience was offered to you for your career, there was no reason for you to remain in the same place.

But right now, that bed-head looking asshole was looking at you like you meant everything to him. His piercing gold eyes were dancing all over your features that he once cherished during your time together.

“Y/n,” his voice faltered a bit as he shook his thoughts away, “H-hey… When did you get back?”

“I’m not back,” you said simply, “M’visiting family for a bit.”

“Oh,” he sheepishly said as he looked away from the awkwardness creeping in. “Well um, it’s good to see you,” he cleared his throat.

You shifted uncomfortably in your standing position as you remained silent. Your wounded and repaired heart is slowly tearing apart once again hearing his useless words. But your younger self is yelling at you to say something back but you still remained silent.

Kursk cleared his throat again to gain your attention back, “Would you like drink?”

Wanting to drink you sorrows away you said yes on the spot. You definitely scolded yourself for accepting a drink from him but he’s paying for it so you looked the other way. You ordered wine like always but more on the stronger side. One with a more bitter taste than the sweet one that you craved.

The both of you sat in silence for what felt like eternity but you kept taking your occasional sips and so was Kuroo till he opened his mouth. “How is Singapore?” he asked as he glanced at you.

You cleared your throat as you set your glass down, “Good. A little more on the humid side than it is here.”

Kuroo hummed in response and let you guys sit in silence once again. For about thirty minutes you guys had an on and off conversation. Letting you both drown in silence then suddenly talk about scattered things that’s happened to you two over the last few years. Then finally the bitter ice breaker came into tow.

“Me and Sachie broke up,” Kuroo said quietly but enough for you to hear.

You sighed out loud hearing her name again. You didn’t even dare say it in your head because you were still so jealous of her getting the real attention from Kuroo.

“So?” you questioned as you watched your old friends drunkenly laugh together.

“So,” he sighed, “I want to say that I’m sorry for leaving you like that when I should’ve done it a lot sooner.”

You laughed immediately. Not so much as a bitter one but more on the side where you thought it was genuinely funny of what he said. “You’re sorry that you used me to gain attention of another woman?” you rephrased.

“Y/n,” Kuroo said but you beat him from finishing.

“No, no,” you laughed letting the alcohol settle in a bit, “I’m right though. You dated me all those years - not only wasted my time but also yours. And then when you lost her for a bit you settled with me, right?”

Kuroo looked away in guilt because now being a full grown man he has regrets. And one of them is of him using you emotionally. Using your kindness, the tender kisses, the soft words of encouragement, and your love was what he regrets and has been regretting for years. You were in front of him this whole time but he turned a blind eye and chose someone who wasn’t looking his way much like what he did to you. It haunts him, honestly. Your tear stained face was what woke him up from the mask he was hiding his true intentions from behind.

He knew better than to reach you again but he thought he was going to be happier being with the woman he’s been chasing after for years. Lo-and-behold, she grew tired of him or in other words-grew tired of using him. They dated for a year but it was toxic. So much so that when he was finally rid of her, he didn’t cry. He had a breath of relief slip past his lips when she left with her bags.

“Y/n… I know I should’ve done better back then but I was blinded,” he sighed as he ran his fingers through his mess of black hair, “It was too late for me to reach you by the time I realized how much I missed you.”

“How much you missed me?” you repeated with a scoff, “You wanted the benefits from being with me, not the commitment. You were looking for that somewhere else all while I loved you.”

And there was another wake up call for Kuroo. He watched you slide out of your seat and leave the restaurant without giving him another chance. He respects you for that though because in the long run, he doesn’t deserve what you can give/offer him.

So he masks his sulks and aching heart because he knows he has no right to feel the heaviness in his chest. But it’s hard to ignore as more guilt washes through him like a tsunami.

He’s lost you for good.

#anime characters #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsuro x you #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo angst #heavy heart #regrets #exboyfriend #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsurō #tetsurou x reader #haikyuu bokuto #angst with no happy ending #i can relate #haikyuu headers #haikyuu characters #kuroo hcs #kuroo imagine

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unluckyhoneybee · 8 months

Text

Care about you (Lando Norris)

When you run from everyone, Lando is the one to find you. Angst.

Note: another short storyyy

Warning: mental health struggles.

"Hey, Max just called me. He- he hasn't heard from you in a while and... Um... He is worried. I just want to know if you are okay or... Well, just call me if you need something" Lando sounded nervous. You hadn't heard his voice since he left your flat with his boxes and now you were sobbing again like a little girl. It was the third time you had played the message and you couldn't get yourself to answer. Not him, not Max, no Tom, no one. All your friends had been trying to reach you, to talk to you, to get a sign of life. Still, you felt blocked. You didn't know what to say or how to explain whar you were feeling.

The sky was dark and the pollution wouldn't show the stars. The city lights were too bright and calling for your attention. You could see everything from here. From your neighbourhood to the city center with it's monuments. You could also situate Max's building. He had told you in a message that the door was open just in case you wanted to go there.

Some may say that scare your friends like that knowingly was a dick move. You had read the messages and let the phone ring until they ended the call, you knew they were probably terrified. But talking to them now seemed like a torture. The questions, the glances, Max more than expected reprimand, etc... You didn't have the energy yet.

Lando knew he was driving slightly over the speed limit. The car was roaring and smoothly moving through each turn of the road. He had driven in there so many times he could do it with his eyes closed. There was no music, he didn't have time to choose a song before leaving.

"Max" He spoke. His friends was on a Bluetooth car. "I found her"

Everyone in Max's living room sighed in relief. "Good, mate. Bring her home"

"Yeah, I will"

The loud roar of that expensive McLaren pulled you from your thoughts. Your heart dropped to your feet and you felt instantly cold. Why was he here? You thought he would be in Monaco, or somewhere across the world, probably flying to the next location for the race week.

Lando was cautious when he climbed down the car. He didn't want to scare you and was unsure of the state he would find you. He knew it would be good. But he hadn't talked to you in ages. He grabbed the hoodie and walked slowly. You would hear the pebbles in the floor cracking under his feet.

"YN?" He softly said.

"I'm sorry" You simply said.

Lando's heart broke. You were sobbing, crying your eyes out while shaking. Your arms couldn't be tighter around your body and your head was so low.

"I know" He said. You were sorry for so many things and probably needed a whole week to finish all your apologies. But Lando had seen you though many ups and downs. He knew you well and need to know no more. He would forgive for everything he could.

He didn't touch you, but he leaned on the railing you were sitting. There was no danger, you two had been together in there a thousand times, sitting on the stone railing and having dinner while the sun set on the other side of the city. It was your favourite place in the world.

"I told everyone I found you" He said.

"I didn't know you were here" You said still unable to look at him.

Lando wanted to reach and dry your tears, but he didn't know if he had the permission to touch you. So many things had changed. It wasn't the same anymore.

"Just for a few days. I'm traveling to Singapore"

You nodded. You didn't watch the races, but Max and Tom and everyone else had you updated.

"Why did you come?"

Lando sighed and looked down at his hands. The bracelet you made for him was still on his wrist. His thumb was always playing with the little beads.

"I knew you would be here. Max called and said he couldn't find you. And... I was worried" He said.

Finally, you turned your face to him.

"You are worried. About me?"

"Of course, YN" He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I care about you"

It was difficult to believe him when you have believed that he hated you.

"I always did and I still do"

Your head fell and tears pulled down your cheeks. Lando had enough of keeping the distance. He reached his arms to you and pulled you to his chest. You grabbed his forearm, sitting around your torso, and cried and cried. His lips left soft kisses on your temple.

Lando held you until you calmed down, your whole body had slowly gone limp and he was basically holding you upright. You were exhausted.

"What happened?" He whispered.

You took a deep breath and turned around. Your feet touched the floor but Lando was still holding you. He kept you close and between and railing and his body.

"Everything"

You saw the sadness on his eyes.

"Work?"

"Work, uni, home, friends..." You shrugged. "I'm just tired of everything"

He pulled you closer and tucked you under his neck.

"I wish everything would stop. Time... I don't... I don't have the time or energy to catch up with anyone or anything and... I'm so overwhelmed..." All your thoughts rolled without stopping. Lando had always been your best listener, the person you always ran to when you needed to breathe. His arms were always the most comforting place. "And I miss you so much" You added at the end.

Lando felt a shiver running over him. That's all he wanted to hear. He needed you back, it was everything he wanted. He just needed to know you wanted him as much.

"I can help you at least with that last thing" He whispered. "What do you think?"

You looked up at him.

"Can you stay with me tonight?"

Lando cupped your face and kissed your forehead, then, very carefully he used his sleeve to dry your tears. "Of course. Should we go now?"

You nodded.

"My car-"

"I'll get someone to come for it, okay? Now we are getting you home, to bed with a warm blanket, yeah?"

You nodded and nuzzled your face on his neck. Lando hugged you tight and kissed the top of your head. He couldn't promise you everything will be alright, but he could be by your side and help you to make it better.

#Lando norris #Ln #Fic #Angsty #F1

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buffetlicious · 4 months

Text

For the Braised Fried Fish Maw Seafood Treasure Soup, the staff portioned it into ten smaller bowls before serving it to us. Not sure if it is because I am holding a camera, but my bowl came with more chunks of crab meat and fish maw. Basically, a seafood soup thickened with starch so the ingredients seem to be suspended/frozen in the soup. Black vinegar and white pepper accompanied this soup so feel free to add some to it.

Well, the Roasted Crispy Chicken with Prawn Crackers was warm and tender to eat, it however wasn’t crispy at it. And just like everywhere else in Singapore, they referred to this deep-fried chicken as a roasted chicken. Sprinkle a bit of the salt & pepper before putting it into the mouth. A lacklustre dish but thank goodness, the prawn crackers were crispy though.

This Steamed Hybrid Garoupa in Hong Kong Style was cut into sections just before they served it to us. This hybrid grouper is probably a cross between the giant grouper (Epinephelus lanceolatus) and brown-marbled grouper or tiger grouper (Epinephelus fuscoguttatus) and given the Dragon Tiger Grouper (龙虎斑) name. The fish got to be very fresh to be steamed and cooked with just a simple condiment of soya sauce, julienned spring onions and cilantro leaves for garnish. The end result, sweet springy flesh with collagen like skin that is so good to eat.

The Braised Whole 10-Head Abalone with Sea Cucumber and Spinach was up next but the process of waiting for the next dish to be served was a long one as in-between the hosts are showing us video stories of the newly married couple and plus the live singing by the friends and band. Ten pieces each of the abalone and sea cucumber sitting atop a bed of blanched Popeye’s favourite green vegetable. Why 10 you may ask? Because a table usually seat ten people so the food portions are divided equally so each get a piece of everything (for the expensive ingredients that is). The only complaint for this dish is that the spinach is on the bitter side.

Like an overturned basket or nest, spilling out Deep-Fried Prawns with Black Truffle Mayonnaise Sauce. If there is anything to change for the presentation, I would move the red and green coral lettuces from under the eatable nest and placed it in the nest for a more dramatic effect. Anyway, these truffle gratings lend an aromatic and earthy fragrances to the classic mayo prawns topped with orange flying fish roe. My colleague and I detected a mild spicy hint of wasabi in it but another colleague said it is from the truffle and mayo combo. Differences aside, this is one dish I won’t mind having again.

I always love this noodle served at the end of the dinner courses just before dessert. The Braised Ee-Fu Noodles with Yellow Chives and Straw Mushrooms is a usual staple at wedding due to the fact it is also known as longevity noodles (寿面). Normally, I would consume more than a bowl of the yi mein (伊面) but that night I was already quite stuffed from the dishes served and I was leaving room for dessert. :D

By the time the last dish was up and the clock was ticking closer to 11pm. The warm Teochew Yam Paste with Gingko Nut and Coconut Milk with its gooey and smooth yam (taro) paste and whole gingko nuts smothered in thickened coconut milk is bursting with sweetness and a great comfort to many of us Singaporeans. I liked the fact that the chef tuned the sugar level to just sweet enough as I preferred mine not too saccharine. Anyway, I just had to ask for another bowl as it was just too good to pass up.

Dinner is now over and after shaking hands with the groom, bride and their respective parents, it is time to head to the train station to catch the train home.

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universitypenguin · 1 year

Text

Chapter XIII

The Princess & The Lawyer

Summary: A scare with her stalker causes Princess to take matters into her own hands. Meanwhile in Idaho, Lloyd finds himself between a rock and hard place.

Word Count: 8,058

Masterlist

Warnings: Description of a physical assault with a blunt weapon, stalking, harassment, dangerous encounter with a semi-wild animal, cowboy/ranch work, illegal drug trade, and corruption. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors.

Author’s Note: I wish this installment hadn’t taken so long, but between going on interviews and then changing jobs, the past few months have been crazy. Thank you for waiting, encouraging me, and sticking with this story.

Chapter XIII

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

You were counting down the seconds until you could end this call but Weston Tafferty was in prime form tonight. Even though you’d clocked out thirty minutes ago, he seemed to think your personal time was fair game for work-related conversation. He continued to fire off questions as you struggled to fill in your eyebrows and carry your end of the conversation. If he didn’t wrap this up soon, you’d still be on the phone with him during your belated family birthday dinner.

“Why wasn’t I cc’d on your emails to Detective Roth?” Weston asked.

“I’m not using my work account for those messages. Roth set me up on their encrypted server.”

“And this prevents you from emailing me how?”

“Wes, that information is too sensitive to share.”

“Hmmm. I’ll give you a pass for now, but next time, make sure I’m in the loop. I also noticed you haven’t been using my spreadsheet system. If you don’t comply with departmental requirements, I’ll have to write you up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. Listen, I’m already off work and I have plans. Email me the details and I’ll take it up with HR.”

A while ago this sort of micromanagement would’ve sent you through the roof. Tonight, other stresses were taking up too much mental space for you to care. And thanks to Weston’s call, you were running ten minutes late. You tapped your phone to check the time and realized ten minutes had become fifteen. Great. Your Mom would kill you if you were late to your own party.

Another icon on the home screen caught your eye. There was no little red number hoovering in the corner of your message app to announce new texts.

There had been no new messages for a week.

Aiden had just… stopped. It should feel good, but your nervous system was screaming. An impending sense of doom settled over you and kept you trapped in the house all week. Your gut said this ceasefire was temporary and Aiden was biding his time.

You’d filed a complaint with the police and he'd gone no contact. It was disorienting. Just when you started taking Aiden’s threats seriously, he stopped making them. Filling out the paperwork at Metro had stripped away the delusion you’d maintained last week. Writing the incidents in black and white on police forms laid waste to your sense of security. As the silence had stretched from one day into two, and then into four, fear sank deeper into your consciousness.

Staying locked in Lloyd’s house forever wasn’t an option. If it were, you’d do just that. But your parents had already delayed your birthday celebration because of the Singapore trip, and backing out now would demand an explanation you weren’t prepared to give.

Checking your reflection in the full-length mirror, you frowned. Thanks to Aiden’s threats about your apartment, you’d avoided going home, so the only dinner outfit you had was the dress Lloyd gave you in Singapore. Unfortunately, the skirt didn’t cover your knees. Self-defense lessons with Landon and Jake had left them covered in ugly bruises.

There was no way Vivan wouldn’t notice and then your mother would make a fuss. You tried covering the marks with concealer. As you were applying setting powder, your phone buzzed. Hands full of makeup, you glanced at the screen.

A message read: Here.

You were expecting Jake and tapped ‘K’ in reply.

There was a noise from below as the front door opened, then the scuff of sneakers on tile. You tossed the concealer into your makeup bag and rinsed your hands before heading downstairs.

“Hey, Jake! Guess what? No new messages today. He’s gone from obsessed to silent. It’s crazy…”

You turned the corner and froze. The visitor wasn’t Jake.

“Zach!”

He removed his sunglasses, hooking them on the top button of his shirt.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming by,” you said.

“I texted. Jake’s working late. He asked me to check in, said there’d been trouble with raccoons knocking over garbage cans.”

“Yes… Racoons.”

“Everything okay?” Zach asked.

“Absolutely.”

He cocked his head. “Yeah? Who were you talking about before?”

“Uh… I was scheduling a follow up with a witness. A witness in another case. He was responsive at first, like, obnoxiously, but suddenly… you know. He’s ghosting me.”

“You seem nervous.”

You needed to lie - convincingly.

“I’m fighting with Vivian, and my birthday dinner is tonight. It’s going to be interesting.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah. Just family drama.”

“Hmmm. Jake’s been cracking his knuckles all week, which is never a good sign. I checked the location history on our work phones and saw Landon and Jake have been stopping by regularly. What gives, Y/N?”

“That sounds like an invasion of privacy,” you said.

“They’re my phones. Speaking of… give me yours.”

He held out his hand.

“No way.”

“Suppose the racoons aren’t just racoons, Princess. Give me your phone. I won’t check the location without cause.”

You hesitated.

Zach wiggled his fingers. “Give it.”

You handed him the phone. Zach tapped in commands as you collected your purse. By the time you’d checked your wallet and keys, he’d installed the app.

“When did you hear the racoons?”

“Ten-thirty.”

“Did the floodlights come on?” Zach asked.

“Ah… I don’t remember.”

You wished Jake had given you a heads up about the cover story. Zach passed you the phone.

“I’ll take a look. Don’t let me keep you, I’ve got my own keys.”

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

“Charlene, don’t be a bitch. Let’s talk about this before you do something crazy.”

Lloyd tried to make his tone as cajoling as possible. Facing down the bad-tempered female with death in her tawny eyes, he was willing to press any advantage he could, including charm.

The cow snorted and bobbed her head. He recognized that look and untethered his rope from the saddle horn in response. Through the act his eyes stayed locked on Charlene. She might be a Charolais heifer, but her temperament rivaled the most vicious Jersey bull. He uncoiled his rope and extended the loop to allow for her horns. While he understood his father had been sick, it was a crime not to have de-horned this monster when she was born. Her attitude was defense enough without having weapons attached to her head.

He swung the lasso a few times, getting it into shape.

“Charlene” – so named because all Charolais heifers were Charlene in his book – pawed the ground. Getting her out of the pasture hadn’t been easy and herding her through the corrals was an event he’d rather forget. But he hadn’t expected the sight of the narrow alley into the loading chute would turn her into a psychotic demon.

The rail-road tie fencing of the alley was six feet high and not much wider inside. Charlene had made up her mind about it in an instant, despite the fact she’d probably never seen such a thing before in her life. He’d found most of his father’s herd balked at the loading chute. Even in the pasture they acted half-wild, like they hadn’t seen a human in years. After that discovery he’d installed a series of gates in the alleyway for better control. The first was at the entrance and another positioned in the middle to prevent cows from backing up or creating a crowd-crush. The system worked, assuming the animal went in.

Charlene bellowed and raised her head, puffing herself up. Jane, the quarter horse under him, shuffled back a step. He hoped she had nerves of steel because the last thing he wanted was to snap his neck getting bucked off and finding out what the business end of Charlene’s horns felt like was equally unappealing.

“Can you hurry it up? We’re behind schedule!”

The semi-truck driver called to him over the fence and Lloyd ignored him. He adjusted the rope and turned it so the loop’s bottom strand flipped over his wrist. When he raised his arm, muscle memory kicked in. Without a conscious thought his thumb clenched and his fingers curled, while his elbow and shoulder rolled in a familiar motion. He stood up and put most of his weight into the left stirrup, preparing for the throw. When Charlene’s muscles rippled, he angled the lasso down and threw the loop, relishing the speed as it flew over his hand.

He was still focused on the mechanics of the action when Jane spooked. He’d leaned into the throw which placed his weight in the opposite direction of where she’d run. When she bucked again, he swore and lost a stirrup. Lloyd grabbed the saddle horn and fought to keep his seat.

The lasso sailed over Charlene’s horns despite Jane’s fit. He drew it snug and anchored the rope to his saddle horn. When the little roan under him felt the rope pull, she spun around, leaning back on her haunches. Charlene tossed her head, fighting the restraint.

“Good girl, Jane. You’re a roping horse, aren't you?”

The mare flicked her ears in appreciation. He laughed, surprised at his good fortune. His father hadn’t had many good traits but his taste in horses was impeccable. Lloyd twisted the rope back and forth. Charlene bellowed as it rubbed and moved forward. When he clicked his tongue, Jane backed into the narrow alleyway, dragging Charlene along.

“Hey, kid!” Lloyd called to the driver’s assistant.

“Yes, sir?”

“Shut that gate!”

This was the farthest he’d gotten her. If he lost his grip on the rope, he’d rather chase her in the confinement of the alley than around the corral. When the gate clanged shut behind her, the heifer kicked at it and made contact, causing the panel to clang against the chain fastener.

Charlene lunged at Jane.

The horse reared and Lloyd leaned into the movement just in time to avoid a tumble. Jane turned in mid-air and landed facing the gate that had just been shut. Lloyd yanked his rope over the saddle horn, and leapt off. He smacked Jane’s hind quarters, sending her galloping, and whistled at the heifer to keep her attention while the kid opened the gate for the horse.

Whistling really pissed Charlene off.

He turned and sprinted for the fence and felt her breath on his back pocket just as his foot hit the railing. He managed to climb halfway up before she slammed into his leg. Lloyd gasped at the burst of pain. When the pressure let up, he jumped down and rolled under the second gate.

“Holy shit, you’ve got a death wish,” the driver said. “I’m not taking this one!”

“She’ll calm down. She just doesn’t like trailers,” Lloyd said.

He had no idea if that was true, but he wasn’t about to keep her around to find out.

Charlene paced back and forth, eyeing him on the other side of the gate, dragging the rope he’d dropped through the mud. Lloyd stood up. She shook her head and bellowed, making the rope whip around. By a stroke of good luck he caught the end and pulled it under the gate.

As the alley narrowed, barricade posts set inside the high fence guided the cattle into the loading chute. He wound the rope around one and tugged, testing its strength. Charlene was big and this post wasn’t built to withstand that kind of weight. Lloyd wrapped the rope around again.

“If this cow kills me, I’ll sue you,” the driver said from the other side of the fence.

“I don’t think you’re the one she’s looking to kill.”

The assistant climbed over from the corral and landed beside his boss. He looked at Lloyd.

“You okay? Did she break anything?”

“No, I’m good. Do me a favor. Be ready to shut that trailer, fast.”

“What?”

Lloyd unchained the gate and moved to the far side of the alley. He glanced at the kid.

“Ready?”

The assistant ran to the trailer. Lloyd tightened the rope around the post, lashed it around his hand for good measure, and unlatched the second gate. He moved to the other side of the alley, parallel to the barrier post, and kicked the gate open, making it crash against the fence. This time the noise didn’t spook Charlene. She was too focused on Lloyd to care.

He stood there and let her charge. The barrier post served as a pivot point, creating a zig-zag that shortened the rope. Charlene was just a few feet away when she ran out of length and was swung around by the force of her own momentum. She stumbled into the loading chute and Lloyd shoved the metal panel into place behind her. He climbed up the fence and pulled the rope off her horns. When it was off, he whistled. She bolted in the only direction she could, straight into the trailer. The kid slammed the door shut.

Jane was waiting by the gate, exactly where she’d run after he’d jumped off. Lloyd led her out of the corral around to the cattle truck. The assistant watched him secure his rope to the saddle with obvious interest.

“Do you rodeo, sir?”

“Nope, never have.”

The kid’s expression was disbelieving. “Why?”

“My father preferred to train and sell horses instead of competing with them.”

“You could’ve made a killing at jackpot ropings!”

Lloyd chuckled, amused by the kid’s enthusiasm.

The driver scowled. “We’re behind schedule.”

“That’s the pleasure of working with animals,” Lloyd said.

“I’m charging you for the delay. You should’ve shot this one, she’s going to kill somebody.”

“She’ll be fine once you unload her. Do you have everything you need?”

The kid answered. “We just need your signature.”

The driver fetched the paperwork while Lloyd fielded the kid’s roping questions. It surprised him to find he enjoyed giving the advice.

When the livestock haulers were off, he walked Jane to the barn.

“You earned some oats for not breaking my neck,” Lloyd said.

Jane snorted and picked up her pace.

In front of the barn, he noticed marks in the dirt. He looped Jane’s reins through a hitching ring without bothering to secure them and crouched to study the boot prints. The mixture of clay and loam soil held its shape well, and the sun had baked the dirt into a detailed cast. He’d found similar impressions on Tuesday morning which had motivated him to spend the next few days herding cattle on the outskirts of the ranch.

The sneaky, unwanted visitor didn’t surprise him.

Settling the ranch’s affairs was his duty. Dealing with his father’s illegal side business wasn’t. He’d be insane to get involved in a drug running operation and risk a second strike on his record.

Lloyd studied the print. He knew it wasn’t from him. The first thing he’d done when he’d arrived was dig out his cowboy boots and start cleaning the barn. His boots were leather soled, designed to slide easily in and out of stirrups. They left a distinct heel and triangular forefoot print. The visitor’s boots had a tread pattern that was usually found on rubber soles. Whoever wore these shoes spent his days on city streets, not on a ranch. A sinking feeling settled in his chest. He had a strong hunch about the visitor’s identity, but hoped he was wrong. Lloyd dusted off his jeans, and went to untack Jane. He placed the saddle and blanket over the door of an empty stall.

He glanced toward the tack room and his stomach clenched. Inhaling sharply, he turned away.

After Jane was settled with a bale of grass hay and a bucket of oats, he walked to the small pen where a sick calf was bedded down in the straw. His eyes and nose were running with thick green mucus that left no doubt infection had taken hold. Lloyd checked his water. It hadn’t been touched.

“Whatever bug you’re fighting might not kill you, but dehydration sure will.”

The calf wheezed.

Lloyd shook his head. “You need a vet.”

His ears twitched at the words, but he didn’t raise his head. After changing the calf’s water Lloyd went to the house and used the landline to call Anderson’s Feed Store.

Henry Anderson picked up on the first ring. Of course, he not only knew the local vet, but promised he’d have them swing by around six. Then he started firing off questions with the zeal of a Spanish Inquisitor. How was college? Did he like Harvard, or did he wish he’d gone to Notre Dame? What had he enjoyed about England? How much did it rain over there? Did he know Coach Olsen had hung a framed picture of him receiving the Bushnell Cup in the gym lobby?

Lloyd sat down at the kitchen table and answered the inquiries. He noticed when Mr. Anderson skipped over questions about his post-college years and fast forwarded to current events. The effortless way he sidestepped the uncomfortable subject squeezed Lloyd’s heart. His unseemly history didn’t warrant such a tactful maneuver and because of it, Henry’s easy grace hit him like a three hundred pound linebacker.

“I knew that determination would take you places. I haven’t employed another highschool kid for four years straight since you.”

At that time, he’d done his best to stay out of Joe’s way which meant the long hours at Henry’s store were a perk. Later, their fully stocked breakroom fridge had allowed him to avoid going home for days at a time.

“How’s April doing?”

He finally asked about the topic he’d been expecting would come up, but hadn’t.

“She’s doing well. Married a boy from Portland and now we’ve got four grandchildren. The oldest is a senior this fall, and the middle one starts seventh grade. The second youngest is in kindergarten and the baby turns two in a month.”

“Wow… that’s a range of ages.”

“The baby is her Mama’s spitting image. It took four tries, but her genes finally hit copy paste.”

Henry laughed at his own joke while Lloyd tried to imagine it.

“I’m sure you’ll catch up with her, but I’ve got to let you go. A load of grain just pulled in. The vet says they’ll be by after 5:30, probably closer to 6.”

“Thanks, Henry.”

He hung up and tried to wrap his head around the bombshell that April Anderson was married with four kids. He wondered why Henry had suggested they catch up. It seemed to imply she still lived in the area. Lloyd shook off the curiosity and grabbed the truck keys. He didn’t have time for a social call. Already, it was mid-afternoon and his errands in town couldn’t be put off any longer.

Lloyd paused at the door and reached into the side table drawer. As expected, his father’s loaded .22 Sig Sauer was inside, encased in a leather shoulder holster that held two extra magazines in a pocket on the right strap. Being a felon, he wasn’t legally allowed to carry a gun, let alone a concealed gun. He thought of the boot prints and his suspicions about the night-time visitor, then removed his denim shirt and slipped on the holster. He covered it with the shirt and checked his reflection. The loose garment and compact weapon rendered the bulge under his arm almost invisible. He put on his sunglasses and grabbed a baseball cap from the shelf.

It was just a quick trip to town. He’d be in and out before anyone knew he was there.

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

You tugged at your skirt, trying in vain to shield your bruised knees. Even with setting powder, the concealer hadn’t provided the coverage you’d hoped for.

Vivian stirred her yogurt and watched you from the corner of her eye. Your birthday dinner had gone better than expected. For dessert you’d taken the family out for frozen yogurt and, at your Mom’s suggestion, walked down to the park so Alyssa could run around. She’d behaved well at the restaurant, but after two hours of sitting, she was getting antsy.

With the efficiency of a general, Mom had taken charge of Sam and ordered Juan to mind Alyssa. She had sent you and Vivian off to ‘enjoy the peace and quiet,’ which was code for ‘go make up because I said so.’ From a shady bench you watched Mom encouraging Sam to walk through the splash pad spray. She was bent over, letting him hold both her hands for balance, uncaring of the mist soaking the lower half of her linen pants. Hector, Caleb, and Diego were kicking a soccer ball in the grass and Juan was hovering nearby, watching Alyssa play in the landscaping.

“What’s Alyssa doing?” you asked Vivian.

“Playing with rocks. I don’t know why, but if you give her a rock, she’ll look at it for hours.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

“What happened to your knees?” Vivian asked.

“I fell.”

“Were you drinking?”

“Vivian!”

“What, you’re not uncoordinated. Were you drinking?”

“No!”

“Well, I have to ask. You’ve been acting super weird lately,” she said.

That was true. You cringed under her scrutiny and decided to change the topic.

“I’m sorry, Vivian.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“My reaction to your pregnancy was uncalled for. I overstepped, and I’m sorry.”

“I dropped it on you like a ton of bricks, so there’s that. You don’t handle change well and I should’ve known to break the news gently.”

“Hey! I’m great with change.”

“Absolutely, you just roll with the punches.” Vivian snickered, and dissolved into giggles. Then her gaze shifted to your frozen yogurt. “Can I have a bite?”

You held out the cup. She sampled it and made a face.

“Yuck.”

“First you insult my adaptability, then my taste buds.”

“Speaking of taste, congratulations on the break up.”

It took you a second to realize what she meant. “When did I tell you about that?”

“You told Caleb, which is like telling the whole family.”

“Right.”

“Does your boss live in the Historic District of Alexandria? By those swanky townhouses?” Vivian asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

Her eyes gleamed. “Last night I checked your location on Life360. Guess where you were?”

Oh, crap…

“Why were you at your boss’s house at three a.m?”

“I’m house sitting,” you said.

“For three weeks? Bullshit.”

“Damn it, I’m going to delete that stupid app. I thought I already did-”

“I stole your phone and reinstalled it. Before you ask, yes, I check your location every night. Are you dating your boss?”

“He’s not my boss. Technically, Weston Tafferty is my supervisor.”

“Lloyd’s last name is Hansen, right?”

You frowned. “Did you Google him?”

“I really should apply to the FBI someday,” Vivian said, grinning.

“Listen, you can’t believe everything on the internet…”

She was already opening a website on her phone.

“Have you seen this?”

You braced yourself to explain Lloyd’s escapades, but it was an article from the Boston Globe sports section dated 26 October 2001. The headline read “Harvard Beats Penn, Cinches Ivy Title” and the photo underneath showed a group of sweaty men in tight white pants and hulking shoulder pads. Lloyd was in the middle. He’d taken his helmet off, revealing a clean shaven jaw and hair three shades lighter than it was now, but there was no mistaking that bone structure.

“Look at that man. He is fine,” Vivian drew the middle vowel of ‘fine’ into a throaty purr.

“It’s not like that, I’m-”

“You’re sleeping with him, just spill.”

You groaned and covered your face.

“Y/N, please? It’s just us. And unlike Caleb, I can keep a secret. I can keep all the secrets, so tell me everything.”

Your sister was absolutely reliable as a confidant, but your relationship with Lloyd was so new and undefined. Then again, maybe you could use some outside perspective on the matter. It would probably go a long way toward repairing the rift between you.

“Okay. So, Aiden ended things-”

“Shut up! He broke up with you?!”

Her outrage was a delight. “Unfortunately. Lloyd took me out for dinner and you’ll never guess what happened then…”

By the time you left the park, dusk was falling. Talking to Vivian had settled your mind about the crazy twist your relationship with Lloyd had taken and confirmed that you were enjoying the new status quo, as tenuous as it might be.

There was a flier stuck under your windshield wiper. Assuming it was an advertisement, you grabbed it, slid behind the wheel and turned on the air conditioner, then unfolded the page. Breath froze in your lungs and your heart dropped like a stone as blood drained from your face so fast your vision blurred.

It was a photo of you and Vivian on the park bench. You scanned it for clues, trying to decipher the angle it had been taken from and realized the photographer must have been on the other side of the splash pad from where you’d been sitting. A shiver ran down your spine. You scanned the street, with its long shadows and fluorescent lamps. Aiden could be anywhere. Fragments of the messages he’d sent flashed through your mind, raising goosebumps on your arms. Your hands clenched into fists. This was no way to live. You couldn’t tolerate it.

Trying to calm your racing heart, you took several deep breaths. After the pressure eased in your chest and you felt clear-headed again, you evaluated your options. There was the obvious choice - contact Detective Diskant at metro and give him the photo. But hadn’t you already done that? Aiden had responded by stepping up his game. Not only had he followed you, he’d followed your family and been bold enough to leave behind photographic evidence of the act.

The message was clear: I’m watching, and you can’t stop me.

Reporting him had made things worse. You threw the car into reverse; it was time to show Aiden who he was dealing with.

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

His errands took longer than expected.

The health district office was slammed, and he’d waited more than an hour for copies of his father’s death certificate. Paying property taxes in person was a bureaucratic nightmare, and so was settling the funeral home bill. His last stop was the priest, and he’d cut that visit short. To make sure they wouldn’t cancel Joe’s service because of his rudeness, he’d added a zero to his donation. With one eye on the clock, he made the final turn towards home. The clock ticked off another minute. Not wanting to miss the vet, he sped up.

Sirens wailed.

Lloyd hissed. He hadn’t risked speeding on the interstate after spotting the black and white vehicle tailing him, but he’d thought he had shaken them miles ago. Red and blue flashing lights followed him to the edge of the road as he pulled over.

Great. What a fantastic ending to an afternoon filled with unpleasant errands. He’d handed over a small fortune to the county and fucking donated to an organization that owned more land than Bill Gates. Like an ice cream sundae wouldn’t be complete without the cherry on top, this miserable day couldn’t be finished with anything less than a traffic stop.

He parked a few meters from the ranch’s front gate. The police truck didn’t pull in behind him; instead, it maneuvered around and turned into his driveway. It swung to the right and reversed into a parallel park, blocking the road.

The side decal on the pickup read ‘SHERIFF’ in bold print.

Lloyd watched the driver climb out. Even at a distance, he recognized the well-built man thanks to the distinctive outline of his Montana crease cowboy hat. This one was pecan colored instead of gray. It matched the tan uniform better than his old one, Lloyd noted.

He rolled down the window and propped his elbow on the ledge to hide the holster under his arm.

“Evening, Sheriff. Was I speeding?”

“License and registration.”

Lloyd took his time finding the papers and handed them over, one by one.

“You’re looking well, Holbrook. It’s like you haven’t aged a day.”

The jab made the Sheriff’s upper lip curl, but he didn’t bat an eye as he examined the papers. Charles Holbrook was his senior by twelve years, though the way he wore those years made it look like twenty. His bulky aviators didn’t cover the wrinkles around his eyes and what Lloyd could see of his hair had gone gray.

Holbrook tilted his hat back.

“Where were you headed in such a hurry, son?”

“I’ve got a sick calf and the vet’s due any minute.”

The Sheriff looked to the passenger seat where the file of tax papers lay.

“What’s in the folder?”

“If you’ve got a warrant you can look, but if not…”

“Where are you coming back from?”

“Town.”

Holbrook ran his tongue around his teeth. “You sure about that? Just town? Nowhere else?”

It seemed his instinct about being followed had been correct. He wished he hadn’t slipped their tail earlier, because it had given them the chance to set up this speed trap.

Lloyd shrugged. “I’m just trying to get home and take care of my animals, Sheriff.”

Knowing who he was dealing with helped Lloyd keep his temper in check. Thirty years ago, when he’d been a young deputy, Charles Holbrook had joined Joe’s drug running operation. Harsher sentencing guidelines made his father cautious enough to find an insurance policy and Holbrook fit the bill. He proved himself effective and ambitious, which was why Lloyd hadn’t been surprised to hear they’d had a falling out after he’d left for college. Rumor was, the Sheriff and Joe had spent the past twenty years at war, fighting over control of the intermountain west drug trade.

Holbrook grasped the butt of his gun. Lloyd tensed, then a blur of action drew his attention. The passenger door of the police truck flew open. A young man in a deputy’s uniform burst out with a pump action rifle.

Shit.

The .22 under his arm wouldn’t be any defense if the deputy was a good shot and given that Holbrook was nobody’s fool, especially in these matters… carrying illegally had been a colossal mistake. The tiniest infarction would be an excuse to throw him in jail. Lloyd’s jaw clenched as he appreciated that in this scenario, Holbrook’s definition of “jail” would mean “the bottom of Redfish Lake.”

“Watch your back, Lloyd. You know the rules in these parts.”

Rage bubbled in his chest at the threat. His nostrils flared as he took a sharp breath, struggling against the urge to fight. The Sheriff smirked.

“It’d be a shame if there were two Hansen funerals this week, Lloyd. Don’t do anything stupid. We need to have a serious chat about-”

Holbrook cut off at the sound of gravel crunching behind them. Lloyd saw another vehicle had pulled up behind his truck and scowled. He couldn’t decide if he should be amused or annoyed that he warranted backup. This was a run of the mill shake down, not… Damn it. His gaze swung to the rearview mirror. The white pickup had boxed him in. With the sheriff on his left, the deputy in front of him, and the newcomer behind, he was trapped.

It was a straight shot through the windshield with the pump action rifle. Lloyd figured he could shoot Holbrook and take cover behind the engine block, but that left him vulnerable to the occupant of the white pickup. By the time he got off a shot he’d have six rounds in his back.

“Luke! Put that away!”

Holbrook straightened up and faced the new arrival.

Lloyd didn’t blink, eyes tracking the deputy’s every move, while he complied with the request. His attention stayed on the rifle until it was out of sight. Only then did his attention return to the Sheriff, who wore a welcoming smile for the approaching woman. She wore a navy baseball cap, plaid button down, and Levi’s tucked into cowboy boots. There was something familiar about her that tickled the edge of his memory.

“Dr. Ward! Haven’t I told you it’s not wise to interrupt police business?”

Holbrook’s tone was the same one used to discipline golden retrievers - exasperated, but indulgent.

“Well, Sheriff, this time it’s you interrupting my business. I’ve got a sick calf to see and you’re blocking the road.”

She nodded at the police truck, and when she turned her head, he spotted the auburn ponytail. Lloyd’s jaw dropped.

“April? April Anderson?”

“It’s Ward now,” she said, grinning. “Dad mentioned you had an emergency, but this isn’t the kind of emergency I expected.”

“Nah, no emergency here. Sheriff Holbrook was letting me off with a warning.”

“That’s sweet of you, Sheriff. Do you mind clearing the road?”

Holbrook’s lips twisted into a sour pucker, but he touched two fingers to the brim of his hat and nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

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You sat in your car, gripping the steering wheel tight.

Just being parked on this street felt dangerous. Despite the risk, anger was more powerful than logic in your current frame of mind. You hung onto that fury. If the past few days had taught you anything, it was that living in fear wasn’t sustainable. Rage felt like a suitable alternative - it was certainly more pleasant than terror.

Thoughts of rage turned your mind to Lloyd. If he knew about your situation, he’d be apocalyptic. He’d protected you in Singapore with no consideration for himself and that recklessness worried you. If he flew off the handle there was a decent chance he’d end up facing a second round of felony charges. The prospect of Lloyd being sent to jail because of your mistakes was untenable. You needed to handle Aiden yourself.

From the spot you’d parked, on the opposite side of the street to Aiden’s house, you had a perfect view into the living room. He was inside and based on what you’d seen in the last thirty minutes, he was alone. Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and imagined you were Lloyd. You thought of the irritable man who’d stormed into the paralegal office and invaded your life. The image filled your mind, thrilling and comforting in equal measure. You remembered the boisterous, almost wild energy that version of Lloyd had carried into a room.

Thinking of his confidence helped ease the tug of caution that insisted you’d be safer turning around and driving back to Virginia. You twisted your neck, warming up the muscles and taking deep, steady breaths. In less than a minute, your shoulders relaxed and your jaw unclenched as the last clouds of doubt rolled away.

Moving with purpose, you stepped out of the car and stalked across the street toward the two-story brick colonial with an immaculate front lawn. Your heart was hammering, but the fear was buried under a thick fog of anger. You were going to demolish Aiden.

You rang the bell and waited. The door opened and Aiden looked irritated to see you. The sight of him made your lip curl into a snarl.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

You shoved the photo in his face.

“This, Aiden. I’m talking about this!”

“Huh?”

“I found it on the hood of my car an hour ago. You took this picture and left it to threaten me.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Don’t lie.”

Aiden scoffed. “You’re crazy. It’s just a picture.”

“You’re harassing me. You’ve been texting me, stalking my building, and trying to make me uncomfortable. Well, guess what? I’ve already forwarded the texts to your father and filed a complaint with the police. Even with all that, you don’t seem to be getting the message, so here it is. Stop. Bothering. Me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, Aiden. If you make my life hell, I’ll be happy to return the favor - in triplicate.”

“You’re a drama queen, you know that, right? I’m not the one who came to your house. You should be glad I’m giving you the time of day - it’s not like you’d do the same.”

“I know you sent the texts. You’re taking your problems out on me, and if you keep doing it, you’ll find out that I punch back. Stay away from me. Stay away from my family. This is the last time I’ll say it - next time you find out I mean what I say.”

He crossed his arms, straightening. “You should watch your mouth, bitch.”

“And you should watch your back. You’re going to leave me alone. If you don't, I’ll put you in a world of hurt.”

“See if I care.”

“You should. Because if you don’t, I’ll give you a reason to.”

“Whatever.”

You raised your chin.

“I don’t need you to believe me. Because whether or not you think I’m serious, I am. This is me giving you the chance to turn things around. Go very far away from me and stay there. If you don’t, you have no one to blame but yourself for what happens next.”

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The calf ended up with a prescription for long-term antibiotics, and he persuaded April to have a beer with him. He couldn’t help but stare as they sat on opposite sides of the small kitchen table. She broke the silence first.

“Nice mustache. It ages you, but somehow it suits you.”

“Thanks. I can’t believe you’re still here. I figured some city boy would sweep you off your feet and take you to Seattle or Boise.”

“He did, but I took him home instead of the other way around.”

“I guess your taste in men improved after high school,” Lloyd teased.

“Given my starting point, it couldn’t have gotten much worse.”

He laughed. “After Tyler, I was a step up.”

Tyler Claffey had been April’s first boyfriend. He played defensive tackle to Lloyd’s quarterback and they’d been on the same team since fifth grade. Their hatred of each other ran deeper than the traditional offense vs. defense rivalry every football team suffered. Tyler still held the distinction of being the most insecure person Lloyd had ever known. For his part, Tyler hated Lloyd’s sullen disposition, lack of regard for other people’s opinions, and most of all, for being a superior athlete.

When he was caught cheating on her the week before junior prom, April had asked Lloyd to be her date. He knew the goal was to twist the knife in Tyler’s side and had accepted the invitation. They went to prom together and ended up dating until graduation.

“Tell me about your husband,” Lloyd said.

“Michael. We met in college, but didn’t date until after. He’s a lawyer.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Is he tall, dark, and handsome… with a mustache?”

April snorted. “No, no, yes, and absolutely not. I know you aren’t married, because no woman would tolerate that facial hair. You should grow a beard.”

“My girlfriend doesn’t mind it.”

Lloyd felt a ripple of concern at how naturally the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled off his tongue, but pushed it aside. He considered April - the first and last woman to hold that title - and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you stuck around.”

“I didn’t hate it here, you did.”

“I had to get away. You know why.”

April nodded. She picked at the label on her drink and lowered her voice.

“How did you feel, when they told you he was dead?”

“Shocked, disbelieving. More of the latter, to be honest. The hospital called and explained but I just… I thought he couldn’t die.”

“Are you okay, being back? Like, here, in this house?”

Lloyd shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“Have you been in touch with your family?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m it.”

April raised an eyebrow. “Your sisters?”

He looked away.

“You never searched for them? After all these years? I…” she broke off. “Lloyd? Did something happen to them?”

“I can’t say for sure. I didn’t look them up because I knew what I’d find.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mother couldn’t take care of them. Even back then, I knew.”

“She left the summer before fifth grade, right?”

“Yeah. My father was away, it was just me and the girls. The house was peaceful. That’s what I remember most about those last days.”

April’s brow creased in confusion, so he explained.

“She didn’t have any of her normal outbursts, episodes, whatever you’d call them. Looking back, she must have started on some kind of antipsychotic meds. A few days before Dad returned I woke up to an empty house.”

He looked out at the barnyard and saw it as it was thirty years ago. Almost exactly thirty years to the day, he realized with a jolt.

“Her car was gone. Josephine’s closet was empty and so was Ingrid’s. Only some of my mother’s things had been taken, but when I saw the suitcases were missing, I knew they weren’t coming back.”

“I’m sorry,” April whispered.

She reached across the table and covered his hand. Lloyd folded his fingers around hers.

“I hate remembering. I can’t go through the barn without thinking of Ingrid and that evil little Shetland who bit everyone. I taught her to saddle him, but I think I put on his bridle every time she wanted to ride.”

“Clever girl.”

Lloyd smiled. “She’d hunt for arrowheads with me. Josie used to go with us because if we didn’t take her, she’d cry and that would set Mom off. She liked to collect flowers and press them in parchment. The first night here, I went into her room and…”

Emotion choked him. A piece of wax paper had fallen from the pages of one of her story books. It was a bright, cheerful Black-eyed Susan. He’d stood there staring at it, as if it were a rattlesnake.

Lloyd shuddered.

“My mother may as well have driven them off a cliff, instead of off the ranch. I never looked them up… not knowing is easier.”

April squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“When I was in prison, the psychiatrist asked me if I’d ever felt love. The question made me furious. I couldn’t believe he’d think me incapable of such a basic emotion, but then I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt love - no offense -”

“None taken.”

“I knew my reaction was genuine, but until Monday night when I saw the rocking chair, I couldn’t figure out where it had come from.”

Their eyes drifted to the pine rocker by the front window.

“That’s where they let me hold Josie for the first time.”

April squeezed his hand. “Is your girlfriend coming for the funeral? I’d love to meet her.”

“No. I didn’t want her to see me like this.”

Lloyd turned his hand, bringing hers to rest on top, and studied the impressive diamond ring on her left finger.

“Nice rock.”

“It spends most of its time on a chain around my neck. That’s what he gets for marrying a vet.”

He used his thumb to turn the ring left and right, admiring the way it caught the light.

“I knew we wouldn’t last, but I loved you, April.”

“Not really. We were good friends, Lloyd. But it didn’t run deeper than that on either side and you were turning bitter.”

She paused, eyeing him curiously as her tongue traced the edge of her upper teeth.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What happened between you and Coach Olsen?”

Lloyd slipped his hand free at the naming of his former football coach. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s been decades and I’m still curious.”

“Olsen took bribes. USC paid him to make sure I didn’t sign with Harvard.”

“But you liked Harvard the most.”

“He was stringing them along, making it sound like I hadn’t decided so the money kept flowing. Obviously, that’s not kosher with the NCAA.”

“He put your scholarship at risk. I understand why you cut ties.”

His lips twisted.

“It was more than that. I got a call from USC in July, which was odd because I’d already committed to Harvard. Their rep let it slip about Olsen. I was livid. Mind meltingly furious, unlike anything I’d felt before.”

The memory made his stomach pitch. Something visceral had come over him and he’d felt his mind loosen, allowing the monster to emerge. The dam holding back years of rage burst and nothing could stem the tide.

“I’d worried I was like Joe, but until that night I wasn’t sure. Whatever had held me in check snapped. I don’t remember the drive into town, just walking across the field and seeing lights on in the shed. Olsen was in the office, working. The football shed wasn’t air conditioned back then, so the garage door was open.”

The scene played behind his eyes, undistorted by time. He saw the white cinder block shed and felt the thrill of finding his prey. Later, that feeling had become an addiction, better than cocaine and longer lasting than ecstasy.

“I snuck under the garage door into the storage area. They’d brought in the baseball equipment and there was a rack of bats beside the door. On my way through, I grabbed one. He turned when I stepped into the office and started to speak. I swung for his head but he ducked, so I only clipped him. He rushed me, and I struck his right knee, got him on the ground, and then…”

He remembered it in flashes. The sound of bones crunching, screams, then agonized cries.

When he’d snapped out of the trance there were blisters on his palms.

“I thought I’d killed him. That’s why I left for college a month early. When the team went to state a few years later, I read he was still their coach. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather.”

April stared at him. “That was you?! We thought there was a psychopath running around town!”

“There was.”

“I don’t agree with everything you did, but your reaction was understandable.”

“The only thing I regret is not saying goodbye to you.”

“I figured you wanted a clean break. Once I accepted it was what you needed, I got over it. But I worried about you. I figured we’d stay in touch, you know?”

He hadn’t wanted anyone too close to him, not after realizing what he was capable of. If he was a monster then the safest place for April was far away from him. Hence, why she remained his first and last girlfriend.

“Speaking of the past…” April frowned. “Have you spoken to Elliot lately?”

Lloyd’s eyebrows rose. “Elliot? No.”

The mention of his cousin surprised him.

Elliot Hansen was the illegitimate son of his father’s sister and some drug dealer from Boise. The drug dealer had vanished upon learning of the pregnancy and two years later, his aunt committed suicide, orphaning her young son. Joe refused to acknowledge him and Elliot became a ward of the state. Like his parents, Elliot got hooked on drugs early and by the end of highschool, he’d been a certified junkie.

“He went to rehab and was working down in Nevada. When your father took a turn for the worse, he came back to help. For the past few months he’s been on Sheriff Holbrook’s list.”

“Is he on drugs again?”

“No. I knew Holbrook was shaking you down when I saw the traffic stop because he did the same thing to Elliot.”

“Which earned you a warning to stay out of police business,” Lloyd said.

“I pay my taxes, I have the right to be nosy.”

“Damn it, April. I told you Holbrook was dangerous. Why would you put yourself in his line of fire for that lowlife?”

Her glare was withering. “He kicked meth without anyone’s help and re-built his life from nothing. Don’t call him names.”

“Fine.” Lloyd held up his hands. “No name calling. Please, continue.”

“I caught the end of their argument. There was something about the ranch and ‘mercury’ but I couldn’t hear anything more.”

“Did you ask Elliot about it?”

She shook her head. “No, because I haven’t seen Elliot in two weeks. I’m worried about him, Lloyd. I think something’s happened to him.”

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

Next - Part XIV

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southeastasianists · 2 months

Text

Tan Ming Li is a certified death doula. Just as there are those who facilitate bringing new life into the world, there should be people facilitating more and better ways to talk about death and dying, she reasons.

In 2023, she started The Life Review, a social venture with the mission to normalise conversations about death, dying and bereavement. Events open to the public include Life Stories, a series of chat sessions with topics such as “Motherless daughters”, “Real men don’t cry” and “Pet loss and our enduring bonds”; as well as Death Over Dinner, in which people come together to have conversations guided by Tan about their personal experiences with loss while sharing a meal.

The last Death Over Dinner took place at South Indian restaurant Podi & Poriyal, where participants were served dishes containing ingredients with special life and death significance in South Indian culture such as black sesame seeds, which signify purification; and jackfruit, the wood of which is often used as funeral pyre logs during cremation.

“What better way for Asians to connect than through food?” said Tan, explaining that Death Over Dinner is actually a global movement that originated in the US, “but we tweaked it so that food was a much bigger component, building the conversations around the ingredients and dishes. In other countries, the concept is just for people to talk about death over the dinner table.”

Tan, who is in her 40s, believes that getting comfortable with talking openly and honestly about such topics is vitally important.

“A nationwide survey conducted last year (by the Singapore Management University) revealed that ‘only 53 per cent of Singaporeans are comfortable discussing their own death while barely a third (33.4 per cent) would do so with someone who is dying’,” she shared.

She feels there is also a tendency to over-medicalise conversations about death, focusing on treatments and doctors.

“As a society, death is not something that is commonly discussed and we tend to be ‘death-denying’. Healthcare and wellness are all about ‘preventing’ death. In fighting against death, we are unaccepting of this natural part of life. This makes it hard to be vulnerable about our emotions around it,” she said.

Even if you haven’t lost a loved one yourself, “When someone else experiences a loss, many of us don’t know how to address the topic and end up using platitudes like ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or worse, ‘Everything happens for a reason’,” she pointed out.

Ironically, avoiding the subject of death inadvertently gives it more power. “This power can then suppress our thoughts, beliefs and behaviour,” she opined.

NO STRANGER TO DEATH AND DENIAL

Tan speaks from personal experience. When she was 17, her mum died of cancer. “Dad said, ‘Don’t worry, she will recover.’ Her sudden passing left us in shock. I remember my dad brought me to the hospital canteen, broke the news to me and simply said, ‘We just have to accept it and move on’. I don’t think he ever recovered. As far as I recall, there were no conversations about it within the family.

“In the years that followed, I lost my dad, grandma, uncles and aunts… I was frozen in my grief response and it took a mental health crisis for me to start addressing these issues.”

Concurrently, Tan had always been interested in social work, from her university years when she volunteered to support children with special needs, to volunteering to teach yoga and breathing at various institutions including the Society for the Physically Disabled (SPD) and the Institute of Mental Health (IMH). She also lived in Thailand for several years, where she gave her time to a social enterprise helping indigenous craftsmen sell their goods.

Her career was in Advertising Research until she took a sabbatical and travelled to India in 2013. Following that period of time in which to think and reflect, she embarked on a new path, offering services such as mindfulness and movement.

“In the course of my work, I encountered clients who are terminally ill or grieving the loss of a loved one. Curious about how to better support them, I started researching the topic,” she recalled. “One day, I received an email from students working on a grief literacy event, inviting me to facilitate a somatic movement session for parents who had lost their child. Somatic movement involves exploring the body's sensations and movements to promote healing. During this session, many participants were able to release long held emotions within their bodies, even years after their loved one had passed.”

Motivated by the experience, she enrolled in the death doula course offered by the International End of Life Doula Association, an organisation in the US. Participants acquire skills revolving around how to support and comfort the dying and their loved ones.

“As I delved deeper into the subject, I realised that this was something that needed to go beyond supporting my clients one-to-one. The societal reluctance to discuss death openly leads to a lot of discomfort and unresolved emotions surrounding the topic, and I realised the need to scale and bring this out to the public,” she said.

So, “I decided to pursue a Masters of Science degree in Thanotology – even doctors go, ‘What’s that?’ – and start The Life Review as a platform for people to get comfortable discussing end-of-life matters through education and engagement.”

As far as she knows, she’s the only one in Singapore taking a Masters in Thanatology (“When the course started, the Programme Director said, ‘Now we are an international programme, thanks to Ming Li!’”) and one of just four people in Singapore who have completed death doula training.

“While trying to help people going through bereavement and grief, it struck me that I also had to look at my own experiences and work through all the emotions and experiences that I hadn’t known how to deal with – or even realised was necessary to,” she divulged.

“The way society operates, if we experience a loss, we are given three days of compassionate leave – and only for immediate family – and then we are expected to get back to ‘normal’ as productive members of society. But what about losing a friend? A partner? A pet? Do you get over it in three days? Since the norm was to get on with life, that’s what I did. It was only later in life that I realised that it was affecting me in ways that I did not immediately connect back to my earlier experiences, such as in the way I interacted with people in relationships and friendships. I would not get too close in case they would disappear,” she shared.

And so, “The main reason I’m doing this now is because of what I have gone through in my own life. The programmes I’m planning are skewed towards caregivers for now, as I don’t want anyone to be in a situation that I was in.” She added, “It was a turning point for me to adopt cats, knowing that they will die before me, yet to accept this and love them.”

Her work has also turned into “my legacy project for my parents”.

“I have a purpose to fulfil now, to bring The Life Review into fruition, in the remaining years left of my life. And in a way, I’m already planning for my end, making sure that I don’t regret things that I could or should have done,” she said.

DINNER WITH A PURPOSE

At Death Over Dinner events, “The framing of conversations is intentionally designed to be inclusive and non-confrontational. Participants are encouraged to share their thoughts and experiences without feeling pressured to delve into deeply personal reflections or imagine their own funerals,” Tan said.

The dinner serves as a casual starting point for discussions about a normally taboo topic to unfold naturally, fostering a sense of comfort and familiarity around the topic of death, she continued. “The intention is not to impose rigid guidelines or restrictions but rather to offer gentle guidance and prompts to steer the dialogue in a constructive direction” while embracing cultural elements within our specific society.

It is also about equipping people with the knowhow and language to either walk alongside a person who is dying, or to support a caregiver.

There are sessions taking place every quarter, which are open for individual sign-ups. The next Death Over Dinner event is planned for Apr 25 at Podi & Poriyal, with a group size of 12 to 16 people. Tan is also open to private group bookings, and hopes to possibly work with other restaurants as well.

The topic of death is rarely broached when everyone is healthy, she mused. But, in the face of loss, which comes sooner or later to all of us, “People may struggle to find the right words to express their feelings or fears, fearing that broaching the topic could cause further distress or discomfort to the person who is ill. As a result, conversations about end-of-life wishes, funeral arrangements, or even acknowledging the possibility of death may be avoided altogether, creating a palpable tension and unease.

"Dealing with it openly and saying what needs to be said can help the ones left behind adjust to the loss after the person passes away.”

And, “In the case of someone who knows they are dying, people around them not wanting to talk about it can leave them feeling unheard. They may not be able to express their desires; there may be things left unsaid; there may be people tiptoeing around them and telling them, ‘You’re going to be fine’ when they know full well they won’t be.”

The question of how we can begin to approach the topic of death in a meaningful way begs another: How talking about death openly and frankly can help us to live our lives more fully and intentionally.

“Accepting the finite nature of life and finding peace with it can change our outlook on life. When we acknowledge that life inevitably starts and ends, we are able to define what happens in between that holds significance,” Tan said.

“How do we make what happens in the middle matter? How do we leave a legacy for ourselves and future generations? Do we want to spend our time sweating the small stuff and harbouring grudges, or instead, use it to create memories and foster deep relationships? Living intentionally prompts us to confront these questions and align our actions with our values.

“Ultimately, embracing the impermanence of life compels us to live authentically, love fiercely and leave a legacy of compassion and connection.”

To sign up for Death Over Dinner, visit https://thelifereview.org/death-over-dinner.

#Southeast Asia #Singapore #Tan Ming Li #Death

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japhan2024 · 5 months

Text

The Edge

I've written this phanfic for @dapg-otmebytheballs as part of the @phandomgiftexchange. I was so excited when I saw I got to write for you. You're one of my favorite phan blogs!! I really tried to make it more angsty, but Dan and Phil are radiating so much love and general joy that I just couldn't.. I hope you still like it though!!

Genre: angst, fluff

Words: 1.508

AO3 link

Excerpt: "Dan gasped as a tall, ruffled haired and bespectacled angel of a man appeared. With his goofy smile. With his mismatched socks, his anime shirt and his horrifically printed pajama pants. His eyes reflected the last rays of sunlight with a sparkling sea of blue and green. How Dan loved this man."

The early sunset bestowed a pink hue upon the white walls. They were the walls of an incredibly expensive London house. A long shadow moved up and down the large living room. Dan was pacing, mumbling loudly.

"I know it's what I want but what I want is not necessarily the right thing, maybe, maybe it is, but they said that I should carve out my own path but I just want to be with Phil and make videos with Phil and be with Phil more hours of the day, I need it to be 24 or I might go insane tALKING TO MYSELF AGAIN…"

His ramblings continued as he paced faster and faster. "The solo tour was fun, but it was also terrible. I don't want to be away from Phil, I need -" Dan called out: Phil? PHIL??

Muffled footsteps came down the stairs. Dan gasped as a tall, ruffled haired and bespectacled angel of a man appeared. With his goofy smile. With his mismatched socks, his anime shirt and his horrifically printed pajama pants. His eyes reflected the last rays of sunlight with a sparkling sea of blue and green. How Dan loved this man.

"Is it time to make dinner already?"

"You know what, that's a good idea, Phil."

"I could make us noodles," Phil replied as he opened (but didn't close) some of the kitchen's cabinets.

"Singapore noodles!" Dan said excitedly as the lights automatically turned on. They were a friendly orange and Dan smiled, content with the layout and the atmosphere of the room. It was exactly what he had hoped it would be, all those years ago when they were designing their forever home.

"Wanna make it together?"

"I'll chop the vegetables, I am concerned for both our safeties if you have a knife in your hands."

"Hey!" Phil chuckled and pushed Dan lovingly.

As they were cooking, Dan blurted it out.

"Phil, the whole solo career isn't working."

"What do you mean?" Phil looked at Dan, his ginger eyebrows raised in concern.

"I mean, it was a nice idea, having my own shows, tour and stuff. But…" Dan sat down at the kitchen table.

"Phil," he said, voice strained. "I am still not living my truth! What use is it to be independent, if I can only show half of myself? I did a whole bloody series on my own. Do you know which episode i like the most? The one with you! Actually, it's the only episode i like to be honest. I was so sure, Phil, of wanting to be independent… but now, I'm quite certain in the opposite direction."

Phil sat down beside him. He looked at Dan and laid his hand on his shoulder. "I just want you to be happy, Dan," he said. And it was the truth. How hard had he tried all these years to make Dan happy… He loved this curly haired, doe-eyed man so dearly, but he couldn't fight all his battles for him. The solo tour had probably been good for Dan. Or so Phil had thought. Apparently, it was still not what Dan wanted.

"Okay, we'll figure it out," Phil said, rubbing Dan's arm. The touch of Phil's hand was so important. So reassuring. It walked Dan back from the edge in his mind, to a more centered, peaceful place.

Suddenly, a sharp odor filled their nostrils.

"The noodles!" They screamed in unison as they jumped up and ran towards the stove.

"Well, those are ruined," Dan said, as Phil cleaned out the burnt pieces from the pan.

"So, now what?"

Dan and Phil looked at each other and said at the same time: "pizza!"

Dan got out his phone and ordered their favorite kind. "Half and half, large, original crust, Texas barbeque and the Sizzler. … What do you mean you don't have the Sizzler anymore? What?! Oh. Okay, well then, never mind." Dan hung up. "What the fuck! They don't have the Sizzler pizza anymore?"

"Dan, don't you remember? I made a big deal out of this, like, months ago."

"Oh, oh my god, you're right… How could I forget such an important piece of Phil-lore! Sometimes it's like I don't remember recent events, you know? Like, how is it 2023? It should be at MOST 2014. When I am in my head, right, I'm always on the edge of totally spiraling about these things."

"Yes, Dan, I know. You'll be on the ground again, moaning and groaning. OWW MY HEAAAD!"

"Shut up." Dan scowled fondly at Phil, who was laughing that ridiculous tongue-laugh that drove Dan wild.

Phil got out his phone and ordered Indian food instead. When it arrived, he got up to answer the door. Dan had retreated into a mood. Whenever that happened, it was best to just leave him alone and let it pass. They silently ate their food at the kitchen table.

As the weeks went on, Phil sensed that Dan was thinking about something. He would indeed lay on the ground, but it was more meditative than agony. Phil never wanted to influence Dan's free will, of course, but he did hope that Dan would soon make a decision.

It was late, and London was shrouded in a deep fog. Dan however, felt absolutely clear-headed.

Phil was absent-mindedly browsing on his phone on the living room couch. Dan suddenly pranced into the room and said:

"Phil, I want our gaming channel back. Wow, it feels really nice to have finally admitted that."

Something moved under the surface of Phil's eyes. He got up and looked at his beautiful cat boy.

"Are you sure, Dan?"

"Yeah." Dan sat down next to Phil and traced his arm from his shoulder to his hand, and took it in his.

"No, but are you really sure? I thought you had moved away from that particular branding."

"Fuck branding, Phil! It's our channel, it's our thing. Can't we do with it what we want? By the way, I was thinking about my last tour today, and when I saw our fans again, I realized something. They are unhinged, oh God. But I feel like we have built something special with them. They know this. We know this. We know they know. We can make Dan and Phil Games whatever we want it to be. Think about it, it would be like the Super Amazing Project but with a higher quality and one hundred percent us."

Dan looked into the deep pools of Phil's soul, that were his eyes. He saw excitement there. They both laughed.

"Phil… it's been so healing to see our actual audience. Yes, they are rabid, but they are also people who watched us for all these years, you know? Doing videos with you is kind of the foundation of our relationship anyway, and yeah, there have always been followers and subscribers, way too invested in our lives. But at the same time, they've been there with us all this time. They are the emo kids who looked at your zany video's and thought "yes, this is good shit." Well, so did I! And I still do. So, I was thinking… And I feel like we are at a point now, where we could just stop giving a fuck. We could just be our true selves. And not care! Phil, I can feel it. We're on the edge of something special, a new chapter in our lives. One that we write, ourselves."

Phil squeezed Dan's hand. "So, you're finally ready, aren't you?" He gave Dan a smoldering look. This took Dan aback , even though it shouldn't, as they had lived together for all of these years. But every time Phil pulled something like this, Dan would blush and be overcome with want and desire.

"Phil… I am so ready."

"Then let's do it. I am so happy you've come around to the idea! I mean, finally, I've been pitching this exact thing for years, but okay!" He laughed his dorky laugh again and caressed Dan's cheek. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I do," Dan said while looking up at Phil. Dan did this often: even though he was the tallest of the two, he would slouch so as to be able to look up, and be the 'shorter' one, just like when they had first met. Phil could never resist him like this. Dan's eyes were warm, dark and inviting. It was exhilarating.

"You know what we should do, to celebrate this decision?"

Dan still looked up to him, caramel eyes conveying anticipation.

"We should go to Japan. Have ourselves a holiday. We can think about setting up all the business stuff of it after. It's an extra job, after all. Dan, let's escape and enjoy each other, enjoy Japan, then take this plunge back into the thick of it."

Dan jumped onto his lap and kissed him. "Yes, Phil, that would be so lovely. Let's book a flight, but first…" And he kissed him again. "First, I have to appreciate you."

#phandom gift exchange #phanfic #phan #dan and phil

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whorekneecentral · 2 years

Note

please- I love the ideal of Mick being and acting all innocent in front of his friends and family, but behind closed doors, mans is the kinkest boy alive. 😫

okay no yeah, I think because we all think mick is a sweet baby angel which he is, we almost forget that, he probably has other ideas in the bedroom LMAOOO

so the first time you met mick, you had the same thought as most people; he was a sweetheart who’d get you home 15 minutes before you were expecting too, walk you to the door, kiss on the cheek gentleman.

you were right, because he is.

but alas, mick is still a man after all and well, he had urges and fantasies as does everyone else lmao.

mick takes asks you to join him for a race weekend, your relationship is still new and you were taking things slow but you wanted to go with him.

he went as far as asking you to come and telling you about all the things/places he wanted to show you.

you cave and join him, mick takes the first 2 afternoons after his media duties to show you around the city, take you to his favourite spots and you really did have a good time with, any time with him was always special to you.

mick takes you to dinner on saturday, a late dinner after their quali session in singapore.

he was the perfect gentleman as always; held the door open for you, held the umbrella over the two of you, picked up the tab despite your insisting that you wanted too (because he had already paid for everything else)

you two ended up back at the hotel, mick was sitting on the bed when he notices the belt around the middle of your dress.

he asks if he can see it for a moment so you step in front of him, letting him unhook the belt from around you and fiddle with it for a moment.

mick takes your wrists and pulls them together, wrapping the belt around them.

you were a little confused but you were going with it because the throbbing between your legs was doing all the thinking right now.

he asks if it’s too tight, you tell him no so he bends you over the bed, and fucked you like that, dress bunched up over your hips.

it spiralled from there.

mick got more forward with his advances.

you two in bed, positions unimagined to the passing eye, building a collection all different types of restraints, toys; anything you could think of.

mick had an entire album of photos and videos of you two in any possible scenario imaginable.

any place he felt like, that was private enough that no one could catch you, but still public.

his hands wandering along your hips or your back was his way of telling you he needs you, now.

he was a curious person by nature, he liked to fiddle with things, figure them out and you were no exception.

to the public, mick was a sweet boy; kind and gentle, temper very very very rarely making an appearance.

to you, mick was a risk taker, pushing the limits and you, to the brink every time and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#idk what this is go with it #mick schumacher #mick schumacher smut

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escapetheshark · 9 months

Text

Off the Deep End | part 2 | swimming instructor Chan x fem reader

Genre: fluff; smut; angst

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem reader

Word count: 3,2k

Warnings: mentions of past trauma, drowning, adult language, talks of dieting and weight (warnings will be added to each chapter)

Summary: Hellbent on facing her fears, she starts taking up swimming lessons from one attractive young instructor named Christopher.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | to be continued

Masterlist | Network

"So how was the lesson?"

My sister is home alone this time: the kids are at school and her husband at work. It's raining so she can't partake in her favourite activity: lounging by the pool with a drink in hand.

"It was fine," I shrug off her question. I don't feel like talking about it. It's enough having to relive that day once a week for the next four months, I don't need to constantly talk about pools. Thank God the weather is shit.

"Your instructor is a hunk, isn't he?"

Is he? I genuinely barely registered his physical manifestation, other than the fact that he looks very young, pale and short. I barely remember the colour of his eyes or hair.

"I didn't pay attention to that."

"Check him out next week," she chuckles, finishing her glass of rosé and promptly refilling it. "Are you sure you don't want any?"

"I'm good," I politely decline her offering of alcohol. "Isn't it too early for this anyway?"

"It's always a good time for some wine," she laughs at her own joke, which I find rather unfunny. "I have to entertain myself when the boys are away, right?"

"Why don't you get a job, since you're always so bored?"

"You mean, a job like yours," she scoffs, taking another sip of her Chateau Simone Palette. "I don't need to work, besides there's a lot to do around here, with two teenage boys and a useless husband."

I can think of a million responses but all of them would lead to an argument and I'm not in the mood. My head hurts and I'm tired. She only invites me here often so she can rub her newly-acquired material possessions in my face, I feel like.

"As long as you're happy," I simply say, focusing on a bluebird outside her giant window. "Mum would be proud of you- if she remembered who you are."

She downs the rest of her wine, not bothering to continue the conversation. The silence becomes heavy for a minute until the click of the front door opening somehow eases the tension a little.

"Hey ladies," he greets us both, planting a kiss on my sister's forehead as he makes his way towards the fridge. "Oh come on, Jamie, you've been drinking the nice wine?"

"Somebody has to," she protests. "Plus, my sister's here so I had to get her something nice."

Her husband eyes me for a second like I've committed several war crimes, a far cry from his usual overly friendly demeanour and I simply furrow my eyebrows and look over at my sister, who's smirking to herself, two bottles of the fancy wine in front of her, which she drank by herself over the course of the two or three hours I've been at her place.

"You should stay for dinner, Beth is coming too!"

I'm not sure who Beth is, at this point. I can't keep up with all her rich friends who all look vaguely similar to me, their faces all meld together to form the ultimate rich woman face.

"Apparently her daughter is very close to qualifying for the Junior Olympics! Her instructor is the same as yours." I feign enthusiasm, although at least she mentioned someone whose face I remember a little better, although not that much. I was too focused on being terrified to truly pay attention to him, but apparently, he's a hunk and I should check him out.

"He really is good," my sister's husband comments, with a very slight hint of bitterness in his voice. For a nice guy, he's a bit of a dick when he thinks nobody's paying attention.

"Oh, that must be her," Jamie is quick to change the topic, saved by the doorbell.

"Jessica is having a sleepover with Whitney and Bill is on a business trip to Singapore," Beth clarifies when my sister's husband asks. "He's been awfully busy these days," she sighs.

"But you guys make it work, how sweet," Jamie's voice is laced with sarcasm, a bit slurred from consuming two bottles of wine even though she's still impossibly sober after so much alcohol. "Have you seen Travis lately? He and Sarah haven't been around in a while." Beth swallows, almost choking on her own saliva at the mention of Travis. I have no clue who he is or who Sarah is, but I must admit it's fun to try to figure out what goes on in rich people's lives. It's like watching The Real Housewives: Melbourne edition.

"Oh, I hear they're moving to Sydney," she smiles the most awkward smile ever before quickly turning to me as if I'm about to save her. And I am because she makes the conversation about me. "Have you met Chris yet?"

Chris?

"Uhm, I've met Christopher yes, I had my first lesson a couple of days ago," I simply reply, hoping I don't have to hear the speech about him being hot once again.

"Oh he's a doll, isn't he?" There it is.

"Yeah, he's- he's very nice."

"If I wasn't married, I'd certainly be all over him," she's smirking weirdly and it's honestly a little off-putting.

"That's never stopped you before, Beth" Jamie's husband comments sneakily from behind the kitchen island as he washes what I'm assuming are vegetables for dinner. He clears his throat the next second as if he didn't just drop a massive bomb. Well, to me it is a bomb but to my sister, it seems like old news.

"I didn't really pay attention to his physical manifestation," I shrug, my voice lower than normal for some reason. I desperately want them to talk about literally anything else, maybe explain who Travis is and why the mere mention of his name made Beth so flustered.

"He's a total hottie," Jamie's husband mocks, his sarcasm hiding an undertone of seething jealousy. "Didn't you see his six-pack?" I didn't, he was wearing a shirt, I think to myself but don't mention it, hoping the conversation will be turned around because this is horribly painful; I'd rather be in the swimming pool with ten pool noodles sticking out of my body at this point.

"So, I hear Jess is very close to making the team," Jamie saves me the embarrassment of hearing about how hot my swimming instructor is. Although the conversation still concerns him in a way. You must be so proud."

"She is," Beth exclaims in the most obnoxious way possible, her voice grating and insufferable. "I'll have to make sure she loses the extra weight before then, though."

My guts turn inside of me - the way she nonchalantly talks about a tween girl's body is making me want to commit unspeakable violence. I stay put, however. I don't have the patience to engage with this kind of discussion, not after a shift at that godforsaken place and barely any sleep. I'd rather hear all about how sexy Christopher is than have to listen to some middle-aged unemployed woman who lives off her husband belittle a literal child. And, as far as I remember, the girl was thin.

Jamie's husband glances at me from the corner of his eye and quickly changes the subject. He's probably heard all about my mother's fucked up diet she forced upon Jamie and me growing up.

"Right, so what should we have?"

"What have we go in the fridge," Jamie asks. "Do we still have that beef mince?"

"Oh sorry I can't do red meat," Beth interrupts. Of course you can't, I scoff to myself, making sure I didn't say it out loud. "I'm fine with just a salad, actually."

"We've got some rocket, tomatoes, cucumber-" he trails off as he checks the contents of his own fridge like he doesn't open it much. "-avocado…"

"Oh we could do like a Caesar, I suppose," Jamie says and I want to roll my eyes so bad. My stomach is making noises and I will probably stop by McDonald's on my way home.

The conversation doesn't get much better throughout the evening and I find myself zoning out, head completely empty, doing my best to drown out their voices as they talk about their perfect mundane rich lives and their upcoming holidays and the diets they've been trying these days. The air feels heavy with emptiness, like when you're quietly drowning in the shallow end of the pool and nobody can hear you.

I check my watch with a grand gesture, making sure they see me do it, gasping dramatically.

"Oh, would you look at the time, I should get going."

I excuse myself out of there as soon as possible and remind myself to avoid going to my sister's house as much as possible, no matter how lonely I am. It's a tough choice between rotting in my room by myself, visiting my ill and hateful mother in the care home where she won't recognise me, or visiting my sister in her expensive home while she binge-drinks and acts like she's better than me. Maybe I'll rot in my room more often. When was the last time I had a social interaction besides Jamie and her rich pretentious friends, small talk with my co-workers or thanking a Doordash driver? When was the last time I hugged someone besides my nephews? Or held someone's hand… Christopher doesn't count, I was scared of fucking drowning.

The sounds from my TV fill up the space as I scroll mindlessly yet again. Everyone seems to be married with kids, buying houses, getting promotions, going on exotic holidays and working out. I had hoped this weird feeling of being the most inadequate human alive would have faded in my thirties but, alas, it never did. Especially not when my sister herself is the model citizen with her million-dollar home with a pool, her engineer husband and her rich friends who wear Channel pyjamas to lounge around.

Nothing good ever comes out of the "people you may know" tab, as I find myself going through my sister's friends' social media, always filled with photos of luxurious holidays in paradise islands, their thin forms adorned with designer outfits and photos of Michelin star restaurants. Apparently, little Jessica is a main character in her mother's social media too, her page full of photos of the swimmer and her many medals. And… is that Christopher? I zoom in on the photo that shows the teenage girl holding a gold medal with a huge smile on her face, and the man standing next to her with a hand on her shoulder. It is Christopher, the swimming instructor. I don't think I've fully registered his facial features before, even though I spent an entire hour looking at him. Without water around me causing panic, I can finally admit he is somewhat good-looking, I suppose. Not that it matters. I look at him for a few more seconds until a yawn comes out of my mouth.

"Get some sleep, loser," I scold myself before putting the phone down and closing my eyes.

My legs are trembling again and I'm not sure if they'll ever calm down. The big clock on the wall indicates I'm a few minutes early and I see Christopher teaching a small class of children in the lane directly in front of the dressing room door. I find myself staring at him, at the way he smiles fondly at the kids, like a proud dad at the end of school year party. I wish someone had felt this proud of me growing up. And even now. Dad's long gone, Mum doesn't remember my name and Jamie… well, I don't think my life fits her definition of something to be proud of. Regardless, here I am, trying to make myself proud by facing my biggest fear and trying to act nonchalant about it, while my legs shake like leaves.

"Hey, how are you?"

Christopher approaches me, once again smiling like he always does.

His sleeveless black shirt is completely soaked, water is dripping from his hair and he has a towel around his shoulders.

"I'm alright, and you?"

"All good," he replies as we walk towards the very last pool lane on the far side of the complex, the same as last week. "So, we're gonna continue to focus on getting you comfortable in the water and trying to get you to get used to it."

This time, it feels somewhat easier to go down the steps into the water. It's warm and pleasant, I know I can stand up and I know he's right there to catch me if I fall. He does the same thing he did last week - takes a few steps towards the middle of the pool, where the water starts getting deeper. At the far end of the pool, it reaches three metres. Where he stands it reaches maybe 1,40 metres. He doesn't say anything, but I know the drill - I slowly walk towards him, looking down at my feet through the surface of the water, watching it wobble with each step. I look up at Christopher, who's looking at me attentively like he's studying my moves. He doesn't say anything and just watches as I get closer. When I finally meet him, he cracks a smile, as wide as usual.

"It seems like you're more comfortable this time around," he states. "So we're gonna try the same thing as last time, but it would be so good if you could do it without the floaties."

I swallow. Sure, I walked a little and I felt better about being on the water, but no floaties? That feels a bit extreme… He's looking at me, and maybe he's just good at reading people, or maybe I'm being awfully obvious because his next suggestion eases me a bit.

"You can hold onto me. I promise I will not let you go, you know that." I nod as he reaches his arms out to me, which I take. His arms are strong and veiny, the skin slightly tan and supple. His white tank top is pressed against his body, it's easy to see through it. His chest is toned. Maybe Beth's words floated in my brain a bit too much and I shouldn't have listened to her.

"Good job," he says, interrupting my ogling. I notice I've extended my legs without even realising and I'm holding on to his hands. Panic sets in and I find myself violently kicking my legs, trying to put my feet back on the ground. In the commotion, I grip his hands tighter, almost clawing at him desperately trying to hold onto the only thing I can hold on to. "Hey, hey, you're safe. You're safe, I've got you."

I feel his arms around my waist as my feet slowly come into contact with the concrete at the bottom, his face closer to mine than I would have liked. It's supposed to calm me down, but it's making my heart beat faster. His presence is making me nervous and I'm not sure why, I'm not a teenager and he's my instructor.

"I-I'm sorry," I apologise as his hands leave my body and he takes a step back, distancing himself from me. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, you just panicked. It happens." He's not smiling this time and I can't help but think it's my fault. Maybe I crossed a line? Maybe I was staring too much? My mouth feels dry. "You don't have to disclose anything you don't want to, but I'd like to ask, have you had any bad experiences in water?"

There it is. The question makes me even more nervous than I already was and I swallow once more, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling, watching the sunbeams through the high up windows.

"Yes. I nearly drowned as a child," I say, pointing to the small but deep scar on my jaw from where it hit the edge of the pool as I fell. I don't remember anything, only how it felt to be unable to breathe for what felt like an eternity. I'm holding back tears.

He doesn't respond for a minute, looking at me with a serious expression.

"Understandable," he says. "I might need to try a different approach in that case."

I'm not sure what that means or how it will affect me or the lessons, but all I can think about is how embarrassing it would be if I started crying here, at the swimming pool, at 12PM on a Saturday surrounded by people and in front of my handsome young instructor.

"I'm gonna need you to be very open and honest, okay? I need to know if anything makes you uncomfortable and you feel like you really can't do it."

Why is he talking to me like I'm one of his child students? I don't want this, I'm a grown-ass woman and my stupid trauma doesn't make me defenceless or useless and-

"Hey, Jessica, look at me," he commands, his voice firm but gentle. "The reason I need to know these things is so we can work through your trauma together, okay? I can't teach you to swim unless you feel comfortable in the water and you won't feel comfortable if I keep trying to push your limits."

As he says this, I look him in the eye, and my brain feels foggy. I'm not sure I can quite make out the contours of his facial features anymore, it's like watching a movie without contacts on. Why am I looking at his face like I've never seen him before? Why did the room suddenly get so loud?

I nod, incapable of saying anything.

"I really need you to trust me as your instructor and feel at ease, but I can't help you if you don't trust me."

"Y-yes Christopher."

He reaches out again and I hold his hands once more. He nods slowly and I know what I'm supposed to do.

"You know what kinda lawsuit I'd have to deal with if I let anything happen to you?"

He chuckles at his own dumb joke and I find myself laughing too. I try again, my heart has calmed down and I take a breath as I complete the exercise. He nods, a huge smile on his pretty face.

"Okay, I'm gonna walk and drag you along. I'm walking towards the shallow end alright? If you wanna stand up, just say so, don't go kicking your legs!"

I stare at my bedroom ceiling, trying to empty my brain. It's completely silent except for the occasional car passing by on the street below me. I can't shut off the cacophony of thoughts going through my mind no matter how hard I try, and I have work in about - I check my phone - four hours. For some reason, all I can think about is the way Christopher's hands felt on my waist for those five or so seconds I was barely registering. He's just a guy, Jessica. Stop daydreaming about him and go on Tinder or some shit.

To be continued...

#neverendingdreams #bang chan x you #bang chan scenario #stray kids fanfic #idk how to tag

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