#what is happening where are they WHERE ARE THE ADULTS

[mj0702]

The other Bronze – Pt. 16 🔞

This Chapter contains some adult content

Por mi vida... Te amo a la luna y de vuelta mi hermosa....♥️

“You can keep dreaming because that won't happen” the dark haired woman laughed

“Worth a try” you smirked as you pulled Jennis jersey over your head

“Dear jesus Christ” you gagged lightly after you sniffed the fabric “Sure you only wore that for that game??”

“Actually no... that's the same one we wore at the Euro final” the spaniard deadpanned “We're broke you know... we have to re-use jerseys”

“Seriously??” you asked outraged your eyes wide with shock while Lucy started to snicker behind you

“Of course not... but you and your stupid tactic had me run a lot – sorry that my jersey doesn’t smell like detergent” Jenni rolled her eyes

“I think it was a good tactic” you defended yourself pouting “Lucy you tell her”

“You put me in goal!!!” your sister exclaimed

“Yeah... that was funny.. the way you panicky screamed at Mills to keep “that bloody ball far FAR away” from you....” you chuckled as your sister hit your shoulder

“Y/N... you still have something to do” now Sarina interrupted and you know you still need to come up with an apology to Rubiales

“How believable would it be if I suddenly have a stroke?” you asked the dutch innocently and all players around you snorted

“Not very believable... come on... the sooner you get it over with the sooner I can reward you for your actions” the blonde coach winked

“Hermoso” you looked at Jenni “... it was a pleasure as always... I have to go and fake apologize to your... whatever he is”

“Oh Corazon... I didn't even show you pleasure but okay...” the dark haired winked “and he's the federation president”

“He's a fucking cunt that's what he is” you grumbled not even catching up on Jennis comment

“And THAT'S exactly what we don't say in our apology” Sarina said chuckling

“Do I really have to come up with an apology on the spot without swear words?” you asked in disbelieve

“Yes Bitsy...” Keira rolled her eyes “... and I know you can – you always pull your head out of the sling somehow”

“Okay okay... give me a minute okay” you huffed starting to think of what to say “... Hermoso could you stop drooling over me abs? I know they're fantastic – me girlfriend tells me every time we...”

“STOP talking!” Lucy exclaimed shuddering at the thought of you and Georgia doing anything else than holding hands while Jenni, Keira and Sarina bursted out laughing

“It's distracting!!!” you huffed

“I am distracting you?” Jenni smirked enjoying the little banter which distracted HER from the previous incident

“Not you... you eyes” you grumbled “I need to think quick here”

“Come on Liefje” Sarina suddenly pulled you away “We won't get anywhere if you butterfly with Hermoso all the time”

“I'm NOT butterflying” you huffed annoyed

“Yes you are... now... this is going to happen now... you are going to apologize officially right in front of the crowd and later again at the post-match press” the dutch said and you grimaced

“Really? In front of the crowd?” you whined

“Yes... this is damage control and when everyone sees how “sorry” you are we have a good chance that FIFA won't interfere” Sarina said seriously and you huffed

“But I don't wanna” you whined again but one look from the dutch shut you right off

“You'll do fine Bitsy okay... you're good at that” Keira squeezed your shoulder supporting

“Ugh.... fine” you huffed annoyed as someone handed you a microphone connected to the stadium speakers

You started to walk out of the tunnel and you knew the second the camera caught you and your picture appeared on the big screens since suddenly there was loud cheering and it made you smirk. You walked all the way to the kick off point standing there for a second taking a deep breath before turning around facing the spanish bench where Vida and Rubiales were still standing. You saw how the medics just packed their stuff together and how Rubiales had two tissues hanging out of his nose. You really needed to bite your tongue so you wouldn't start laughing – you were “sorry” after all. At least that's what Sarina told you you were. You saw how all the players – Lionesses and Spanish – were lingering in the tunnel entrance waiting for your speech

“Hi” you started awkwardly looking into the stands after the crowd calmed a little bit which caused a new round of cheering and whistleing. Vida and Rubiales looked at you expectantly and when they saw you wore Jennis Jersey you saw how Rubiales jaw set challenging.

“Okay guys... I'm here to apologize for me actions towards Mr. Rubiales a few minutes ago” you said using your “I'm so so SO sorry”-voice “... I honestly don't know what caused me to act the way I did... I'm in the wrong here because violence is never the answer no matter how disgus... no wait... I'm not allowed to say that... violence is never the answer! Let stop there... I never meant to assault you Mr. Rubiales...” you looked at Rubiales himself trying to sell your apology so hard by talking directly to him “... I never meant to hurt you and I don't have an explanation for what happened. Please believe me when I say I'm sorry from the bottom of my heart”

Even you know you went a little over but you really REALLY tried not to verbally assault him right now

“You did nothing but being polite to me and what happens in your federation is not my business” you said and some people would swear they heard a threatening undertone “I hope you accept me apology and we can forget this... incident”

You walked back towards the tunnel before making a turn towards Rubiales himself offering you your hand to shake it. He grabbed your hand hard his jaw still set when you pulled him a little forward

“If you ever pull off something like that again you fucking cunt I personally will cut off your balls and feed them to you through your asshole and then I make sure that there's no inch of DNA left of your existence...” you growled into his ear covering it up with clapping on his shoulder like both of you made up “... most of them players I consider my friends – family even... I don't take it lightly if they get put in an uncomfortable situation and I always will have their back”

You let go of him smiling sweetly before turning around walking back into the tunnel where everyone stared of it with disbelieving looks. You smirked feeling great pride and satisfaction with yourself.

“I am REALLY proud of you Liefje” Sarina beamed as you reached her letting her pull you into a hug

“I can't believe it... you actually delivered a grown up apology” Leah said her face showed pure shock

“Yeah well...” you shrugged your shoulders

“I can't believe you apologized” Mapí looked at you a little disappointed

“Had to... they made me” you pointed at Sarina, Keira and Lucy

“I'm proud you didn't punch him again – I was worried there for a second when you made a beeline for him” Lucy threw her arm over your shoulder standing next to you proudly “And you didn't threaten him”

“I definitely didn't” you quickly said and your voice was a little high-pitched

“Bitsy” Keira warned you

“Hm?” you looked at her innocently

“Please don't tell me you did...” the blonde looked at you expectantly

“So... my reward” you turned towards Sarina

“Bitsy!” Keira exclaimed

“What? You said to not tell you... so I don't” you defended yourself

“What did you say... I knew that handshake was a cover up... I KNEW IT” Keira said annoyed

“Look... I just let him know how... I consider most of the spanish team me family... and that I'll always will have their back” you said honestly “andhowIwillfeedhimhisballsandthattherewon'tbeanyDNAleftifhepullssomeshitlikethisagain” you mumbled before quickly sprinting behind Alexia and Jenni ducking for cover

“Come again???” Keira looked at you shocked while the spanish players looked at you confused since you spoke to fast for them to understand

“Could you repeat that for the not english speakers please Cariño?” Alexia said confused

“I rather not” you mumble “Keira will have me head”

Luis Rubiales chose that exact moment to walk into the tunnel and you immediately stood up taller again moving in front of Jenni in a protective manner – which looked kind of ridiculous since Jenni was over a head bigger than you. He threw a death glare at you but continued walking as the crowd of english and spanish players parted like the sea for Moses.

“It's kind of cute how you try to protect me little one” Jenni chuckled from behind you

“He's a... Mapí... worst spanish curse word you know” you spat looking at Mapí

“Cojones or Cono” Mapí easily provided earning herself a really hard slap to the head from Irene and a death glare from Alexia

“That... he's both of that...” you growled looking after Rubiales

“Don't teach her that” Irene told Mapí off harshly

“She asked” the blonde tattooed woman defended herself

“And you CHOSE to answer” the Vice-Capitan answered

“I just wanted to helpful...” Mapí mumbled pouting

“Don't push it María León and just keep your mouth shut” Irene grumbled

“Bitsy... come here sweetie” Keira cooed sweetly

“Oh no... not gonna fall for that... it's like the time you told me you wouldn't get angry if I tell you what I did and after I told you you made me do push ups in the pouring rain” you shook your head looking at her scared shuffling backwards

“I promise...” the blonde tried again smiling sweetly but you saw right through it

“No no... I think I'm gonna stay with Ona” you said and the people who knew you could hear the slight fear in your voice

“You still have a pre-match conference to attend” Sarina reminded you smirking

“Aaaawww maaaaan” you whined “I did what you told me to do – why do I have to sit through that as well?”

“Because it was your game today and not mine” the dutch said “So YOU are going to answer all the questions... in a nice civilized manner”

“Ugh” you huffed and turned to walk towards the media room “But I'm not sitting next to that sorry excuse of a human being”

“Good evening Ladies and Gentleman – this is the post-match conference and we have 60 Minutes. We do it the usual way and go 30 minutes each. All question have to remind professional and under no circumstances will private questions answered. You all have one question if you want a follow up you have to talk to the person if they're willing to do one. We start with questions for the representatives of the english Lionesses Head Coach Sarina Wiegman and Y/N Bronze before going to the spanish representatives Jorge Vilda and Luis Rubiales” the coordinator said and you knew the cameras where already on so you pushed the urge down to roll your eyes your face staying stoic “We're starting with Alex Scott”

You exhaled deeply knowing Alex wouldn't ask anything regarding the Rubiales-event and probably would ask something frivolous.

“Alex Scott for BBC Sports” Alex started smiling at you “A question for Y/N Bronze”

“I know your name and where you work... I've known you for years now” you interrupted her confused which lifted the mood in the room since all of the reporters started chuckling

“That's how it goes y/n... we reporters have to introduce ourselves before asking the question” Alex smiled at you

“Oh okay...” you said quickly “... sorry for interrupting”

“No problem... but my question to you... we were all informed beforehand through different social media channels that you joined the Lionesses as a side line analyst – how comes that you basically dictated the game today?”

“I was given the chance by Sarina... Mrs. Wiegman... Coach? What do I call you?” you started then looked at Sarina unsure which caused another round of light laughter

“Sarina is fine...” the dutch smiled encouraging squeezing your knee under the table in a calming manner

“Sarina gave me the chance to work on a tactic for this game – Spain is a hard opponent to play. I got to Camp with Lucy... Bronze... Lucy Bronze my sister” you started but then got all nervous again since you actually never had to do any press stuff before.

Again Sarina jumped in by stroking over your knee calming

“... but you all know that...” you chuckled at your idiocy “... so when we arrived at Camp Sarina pulled me aside telling me she wanted me to watch some of the spanish games and to come up with a play where we at least can annoy them a little bit. I'm pretty sure she just did that to keep me occupied so I wouldn't do some stupid shit...” you said but quickly slapped your hand over your mouth “... I mean so I don't do... stuff... but yeah... after I sat down with her showing her some plays she told me to put a starting XI together.. at this point I still thought it was all like... hypothetical.. so I did... after that she said that she liked what I came up with and that she trusts me and that I'll have the lead on the game...”

“Would you be interested in answering a follow up?” Alex asked quickly knowing that she only had a short time frame before the next reporter would be called up

“For you always... I mean... you did change me diapers – I think it's just fair” you grinned

“And you were so squirmy about it... but my follow up... what made you come up with putting Lucy in Goal?” the short woman asked smiling

“Knew you would pick up on that” you laughed feeling slightly more relaxed “... that was a last second decision – I had four subs planned... two at half time, two around 70th minute... I left one slot for a possible injury sub – I played some players who just came back from an injury and I didn't want to overwork them. That's why I subbed Meado off 73rd minute in... she played outstanding and I didn't want to risk setting her back in her recovery... I quickly talked to her after she came off and she said she felt good but also appreciated getting off. So after I didn't need the left over slot and Lucy was mean to me earlier – and Keira said she would pay to see Lucy in Goal – I thought... why not... and come on... it was funny seeing her panicky waving her arms around like a monkey absolutely losing her plot screaming at Mills to keep the ball far FAR away” you laughed which caused the room to interrupt in laughter

“Okay next question please...” the coordinator said also laughing and called up a reporter you didn't knew who had a question for Sarina so you turned out and started to look around the room with a bored face which ended in a edit about how you and Lucy are so much alike in conferences

“Question for Y/N Bronze...” a young lad said and after you didn't react in the slightest being busy counting the sponsor labels on the wall behind you Sarina flicked your ear

“Huh??” you looked at you confused

“There's a question for you” the dutch gestured towards the room “Attention on the room”

“Sorry...” you said embarrassed

“You got a yellow card... how did that happened?” the young reporter asked

“First of all... that wasn't MY yellow card... THAT was Onas yellow card” you started serious but your lip tugged upwards and everyone noticed that you were joking “... she committed the foul... I just... asked the Ref if she doesn't see the need to card it”

You heard Sarina clear her throat next to you and you looked at her innocently

“What? I did” you defended yourself

“You took my glasses and ask the Ref if she needs them to and I quote “see a foul when it's happening”...” the dutch looked at you unimpressed

“Not my fault she's a blind moron – that WAS a yellow card” you exclaimed before remembering where you are and – again – slapping your hand over your mouth

Sarina exhaled deeply and started to pinch the bridge of her nose shaking her head slightly as the room erupted in laughter again

“Okay next question... Barry... your turn” the coordinator said and you tensed immediately.

Barry O'Connor was a legend under the reporters – he was one of the ones who could make you or break you. He never held back with the uncomfortable questions and he immediately knew when you lie and THAT he would use to break you.

“Thank you Tom... Barry O'Connor for The Guardian...” the older gruff man said and looked straight at you and you just KNEW what was coming “... question for Bronze... there was a slight – let's call it ruffle after the game... any comment on that?”

“Good evening Mr. O'Connor” you said politely “... I'm afraid you have to be more specific – there was a lot going on after the game”

“You punched the president of the spanish federation – the proof is sitting right there” the reporter said pointing at Rubiales

“Yeah... not my best moment is it... I want to apologize again and honestly I can't tell you what happened... I saw how he moved towards Jenni Hermoso and the next thing I know is Sarina yelling at me in the locker room...” you said and everyone in the room knew you told the truth “... I got the great honour to meet most of these players beforehand when I was visiting my sister in Barcelona and they welcomed me with open arms and helped me when I needed help – looked after me when I needed guidance... so I consider them as family... I don't take it likely if someone makes my family uncomfortable – which everyone who knows me can confirm... so I just – acted to protect my family”

“You said you needed help in Barcelona... what happened?” the older man asked

“Barry you had your question and we said from the start...” the coordinator interrupted but then got interrupted by you

“No it's okay... I'm honoured to be interesting enough to get a follow up by a reporter legend” you said and Sarina heard that you were about to get serious “It's not really a secret that I don't play because I suffered quiet early in my career from three ACL's... so even if I wanted to play I simply can't... in Barcelona a... incident happened that left me with a PTSD episode... all of them helped me afterwards – Mapí León right up top.. she went all the way to the airport to get me english chocolate... I got in the honour to get to know a few teams through Lucys career... if it was City, Lyon or now Barcelona... all of the teams have a special place in my heart but Barca now – they are something else... Alexia Putellas is an amazing leader – on and off the pitch... under her lead this team stepped up coming together as a family – no matter which nationality or background...”

You looked back at the reporter who smiled appreciative nodding slightly

“So yes... they helped me a great deal... even when I got overdosed on pain meds and didn't know what I was doing and gave them nicknames and was high as a kite” you winked

“Okay last question for the english side before we're moving on the spanish representatives” the coordinator said and pointed at a young blonde woman

“Thank you... Sarah Mulligan for ITV” the young woman said “Question for both Sarina and y/n... Sarina what made you involve y/n as much and y/n how did feel or managed with the pressure?”

“You first?” you looked at Sarina a little lost which caused the dutch to chuckle

“Thank you for your question” Sarina started and you interrupted her

“We have to thank for questions...” you exclaimed shocked before looked into the room “Thank you?”

This made everyone laugh again before Sarina continued

“It's polite Liefje” the dutch said lovingly “... but back to the question... I got to know y/n when she was recovering from her third surgery. I just took over from Phil Neville trying to get a read on the Team having called up a few young players but also some experienced ones – like Lucy Bronze. Lucy called me two days before Camp would start asking if she could bring her little sister who just got out of hospital. I agreed knowing from former games and also from stories how much Lucy cared for her sister. The moment I saw her for the very first time I knew she was someone special. She was still wearing a leg splint and was still on crutches but that didn't stop her from refusing help even going so far to hit Lucy away with her crutch...” the dutch remembering your first appearance smiling slightly “.... she was so grumpy and angry – a deep anger and I must admit I was unsure for a moment if it was a good idea to have her with the team. I feared she would bring the team spirit down – but I was wrong. So very wrong. The moment she stepped into the Hotel lobby and I saw how many players were happy to see her I knew it was the right decision. At the first training session she sat in the stands just staring down on the pitch – I must admit I kept an eye on her because Lucy asked me too... y/n never moved one muscle just stared down on the session. So I thought I let one of the assistants take over and went up to sit next to her. I sat down and asked how she was doing. Her answer was that I should rethink this formation because it's putting to much pressure on the midfield. Then she just stood up and left. I looked down on the pitch and saw Keira and Jordan Nobbs were struggling to keep up with the pace I tried to put up with the play. That was the moment I decided to get her involved more – one because she has an eye for things no one ever sees and two she needed a task. She needed something to take her mind off her injury and what it meant – what she lost. I got her involved a little bit more every camp and this time she finally accepted my offer to employ her full time which I know is a big step for her. But a big step in the right direction. A big step towards healing” the blonde said lovingly and squeezed your hand

“That got deep Mama Rina” you mumbled getting a little emotional before looking at the young reporter woman “Thank you for your question”

The room chuckled again enjoying your young easy and light way you were handling the situation of getting thrown into a press conference for the first time

“I'm sorry I can't provide such a deep meaningful answer but... I didn't feel any pressure to be honest. As I said before until the very last moment – the moment that Sarina made me explain my tactics to the team to be exact – it was all hypothetical for me. And after that I didn't really have time to feel pressured – I tell ya this team is a handful. Just yesterday Niamh called out Code Red – which means no one is allowed to leave – because she couldn't find her lucky socks... turns out the washed them in the sink and hung them on the balcony and they just fell off onto the balcony of Lottes... that's the shit you guys normally don't get to see” you said shaking your head when you remembered how ridiculously headless Niamh tore her room apart because of a pair of socks.

After the room quiet down from their round of laughter again the whole questioning shifted towards the spanish men and you started to spin with your chair until Sarina stopped you gently putting her hand on your arm to calm you down. You huffed but stayed still trying to listen to the answers of the Vilda and Rubiales but it was no use.

You heard your name a couple of times but since you didn't have any context you chose to ignore it – that was until a fuming Mapí León with an equally fuming Leila Ouahabi hot on her heels came blazing into the room both of them throwing some words at Vilda and Mapí even went so far to crawl onto the table separating the trainers from the reporters. Seconds later an angry looking Alexia entered the room just in time to grab Mapís ankle and pulling her back and away from the spanish national team coach. She tried to get her players under control by pulling both of them back by the hem of their jerseys. Mapí was kicking and screaming like a five year old – of course in spanish so you didn't understand a word – the only thing you understood was when Mapí yelled “mi Nena” - but when you looked at Vildas face it told you everything that you needed to know. You looked flabbergasted to Sarina who looked just as shocked and shrugged her shoulders before you turn towards the reporters where some just shook their head in disbelieve.

The post-match conference was ended pretty quickly after that and you basically jumped over the table sprinting out of the room past Keira and Lucy – who were waiting for you outside the room – towards the spanish locker room. This time you weren't as friendly as before and bolted through the door without knocking even tho you could hear Alexias angry voice half way down the corridor. The second you threw the door open the whole team looked at you and everyone fell silent – even Alexia.

“What the fuck just happened?” you looked at Alexia lost

“Cariño I love you I do... but this is something we have to talk about internally” Alexia said softly

“Mapí was about to strangle that mop in front of thousands and you say this is an internal thing?” you raised an eyebrow

“He called her a “lost little child who wears shoes that are to big for her and she's useless”... mi Nena knows EXACTLY what she's doing... mierda we lost FIVE zero...” Mapí started to rage again and you became big eyes

“Mapí ENOUGH” Alexia scolded her “Everyone SAW what she did and her head coach isn't a useless... culo like ours... there's no need for you to defend her... she has Lucy for that”

“But Lucy didn't do anything...” Mapí said outraged

“Because her spanish is shit and she probably didn't understand” you shrugged accepting the water bottle Ona held out for you “And the way you hesitated at the word “culo” means it's bad and I'll definitely save that down in me brain”

“No you won't Bebita” Ona smiled sweetly but you know just like with Keira it was a warning “Bad word”

“Then Alexia has to do push-ups... that the bad word rule!” you exclaimed and Alexia looked at you unimpressed

“I'm an adult... I can say whatever I want” the blonde spaniard said flatly

“Rule applies for everyone Capi” Jenni now grinned “Down on your hands and knees you go”

“What does culo mean?” you leaned over so you could whisper in Mapís ear

“Asshole” Mapí whispered back

“That'll make 15” you looked at Alexia “That word is an A-grade swear word.. A-grade swear words make 15 push ups...”

“I most definitely won't do any push-ups...” Alexia rolled her eyes

“But I always have to do them” you whined

“And look how much more your arms and shoulders are defined since I last saw you” the spanish capitan smiled and pinched your cheek

“You suck” you grumbled pushing yourself behind Ona to seek cover from her prying hands

“No little one... that's me... she's more the...” Jenni smirked but before she could end the sentence she got punched very hard in the shoulder by Alexia

“Come on Bebita... let's get you back to the Lionesses...” Ona said lovingly already pushing you forward slightly “Say bye-bye”

“Ass-dios” you waved which caused the younger players to explode in laughter – including Jenni – while Alexia threw you a death glare as Ona quickly pushed you out the door

“Keira...” Ona yelled seeing Keira down the corridor

“There you are!!! We where searching the whole place for you!!” Keira exclaimed the second she laid eyes on you “Don't you ever do that again!!!”

“I was just at the spaniards and pretty spaniard taught me a new word” you smiled at the blonde proudly

“Don't even” Ona warned you

“What happened?” Keira turned towards the blonde spaniard

“She suddenly kicked in our locker room door... and didn't except “it's an internally affair” from Alexia” your sisters girlfriend shrugged her shoulders

“Uh Kei...” you pulled on her jacket a little bit “Alexia said an A-grade swear word... and she refused to do push-ups”

“Really now... we can't have that now can we?” Keira mused sensing that you started to get tired and pulled you into her side winking at Ona before turning around slowly leading you back towards the Lioness locker room pulling out her phone to text Lucy and Leah that she “found” you

“You little shite...” Lucy started immediately but got cut off by Keira

“Leave her be... she's dead on her feet” the blond said firmly basically carrying all your weight your head on her shoulder

“Come here Bubs” Lucy exhaled deeply hoisting you away from Kei into her own arms cradling you like you were a three year old again while Keira got all your bags

“How bad is it outside?” your sister asked Leah who sneaked a look outside looking at the crowd waiting for the players to emerge from the stadium walking to the bus

“Nothing we're not used too...” the blonde capitan shrugged

“I'm asking because of her” Lucy nodded towards your sleeping form in her arms slightly drooling on your sisters jacket “If she gets startled half the team won't get an inch of sleep tonight – you remember the drama after the France game?”

“Wait... I get the noise cancelling headphones” Mary said thinking quickly pulling already on Rachels headphones getting them off her and carefully sliding them on your head.

You quickly got startled by the sudden loss of hearing but Lucy had you under control quickly by manoeuvring your head into her neck. The moment you smelled the familiar scent of your sister skin you relaxed again becoming boneless in her arms.

“She's so out” Keira chuckled

“You surprised?” Lucy answered hoisting you up a little more “Fuck me... this was easier when she was 3”

“No shit Sherlock” Millie deadpanned “Gimme... I'll carry her”

“Naah – we're good” your sister said but smiled at her teammate thankfully “I'll just bring her into the bus and then come out to sign some stuff...”

“You don't have to – you're not obligated to do so and you know it” Leah said seriously

“I know... but they waited long enough now and she'll be good once she's inside the bus” your sister answered “Let's get this show on the road”

As soon as the doors opened the fans went wild – as usual and Lucy was so SO thankful for Marys quick thinking of putting the noise cancelling headphones over your ears. Your sister walked quickly with you in her arms towards the bus disappearing inside it. She disposed you into her own seat asking the bus driver if he could have half an eye on you. Of course he agreed quickly being a fan of you himself with all the shenanigans you came up with all the time.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you were met with – darkness. Darkness and softness. You bolted upright searching for your phone in the dark. Getting more arrogated which each passing second you knocked over a bottle of water which caused a light to get switched on and you were met with the sleepy looking form of your girlfriend.

“What you doing baby?” Georgia asked her voice raspy

“What are you doing in my room?” you asked confused “Why am I in my room??”

“Firstly... that's my room... secondly... you were out like a light once Keira found you and then YOU wouldn't let go of me shirt and Keira got Lucy to agree to let us room for tonight under the promise that I won't touch you in any “not biblical” form” your girlfriend informed you

“Wait... what day is it???” you looked at her confused

“What?” Georgia asked equally confused

“Day baby... what DAY is it?” you looked at her like you're going to have a mental breakdown any second

“Still Wednesday... game day.. 23:48... why” G answered keeping her voice even to not set you off further

“Oh thank fuck” you sighed “Get ready... come on... take your phone”

You ushered your girlfriend out of her bed – not without ogling her body for a second longer that would go through as “biblical” - and then out of the room up a floor hiding behind a corner taking out our phone.

“23:52... perfect” you grinned

“What have you planned??” your girlfriend whispered in your ear from behind/above you which cause a shiver to run down your spine

“Welcoming Sarinas new year of age” you swallowed hard trying not to think what you could do now with your girlfriend instead of hiding waiting for the pipers to come down the corridor.

“Oh god... WHAT did you do??” G whisper yelled “If I get in trouble for it...”

“Please... as if I let you get in trouble” you snorted spotting the first piper stepping out of the elevator

“Oh god... oh god no... no no no no no” your girlfriend mumbled with wide eyes having spotted the piper as well “You didn't”

“Oh I so did... mi Vida” you grinned evilly

“Me what?” Georgia asked confused

“No idea... Lucy always calls Ona that – probably something dirty turn ons in spanish” you shrugged your shoulder “Where the fuck are Toons and Less?? And Jill... where is Jill?”

The moment you said it you saw your two best friends sprinting down the corridor, little party hats askew on their heads another set in their hands. Less was carrying some glitter bombs and confetti canons.

“We're not late” Toons panted coming to a halt in front of you “What she doing here?”

“I'm her girlfriend??” Georgia said confused

“Still doesn't answer me question... you don't get to bake in our fame” Ella said annoyed holding out a party hat for you which you immediately placed on your head

“Fame? You really think that going down well for you?” your girlfriend snorted nodding towards the piper who just set up their bagpipes.

“Of course... that a birthday she'll never forget” Lessi answered grinning widely “Can we start?”

“No.. we still missing Jill” you pressed taking Georgias phone to look at the clock “23:59... come on Jill”

You heard the “ding” of the elevator and surely enough there came a big three story birthday cake wheeling out with a widely grinning Jill Scott pushing it down the corridor towards you.

“Where were you?” you came out of your hiding – which was useless anyway since Toons and Less stood right in front of you – speed walking towards Jill smashing a party hat on her head.

“Had to think about something to get the room card” your Godaunt and most trusted adult friend – after Keira – said pulling out the little plastic card from her back pocket

“What did you say?” you snorted Jill could come up with the best backstories

“Want to surprise my wife for her birthday” the older woman smirked back “easy in the nights since there are only teenage boys covering Front Desk”

“We'll leave quickly after we delivered our present so you two have some alone time” you smirked

“Thank you Cookie – we very much appreciate it” the dirty blonde laughed “You guys ready?”

All of you nodded and Jill very VERY carefully pushed the card into the electronic lock waiting for the signature “click” before pushing open the door. You had Georgias phone ready and when Jill gave you a thumbs up you started recording. The pipers shuffled into the small hotel room and on a small cough from you they started piping “Auld Lang Syne” and not even five seconds in the light next to the bed got smashed on and a completely demolished Sarina Wiegman sat in her bed, blanket pulled up to her chest, glasses askew from being placed quickly on her nose, hair standing in every direction like she just got electrocuted her eyes wide in shock. The pipers went seamlessly over to “When the Saint go marching in” before finishing with “Scotland the Brave”. The second the little private concert was over Toons and Less let the Glitter bombs and Confetti canons explode right over Sarina – and her bed – all of you yelling “Happy Birthday”.

Your plan was nearly perfect. Get glitter and confetti all over Sarina before bolting. What you DIDN'T think off – pipers where loud. Very loud. Waking up most of the squad in process. Like Leah. And Lucy. And – most dangerously – Keira. So the moment you wanted to bolt you were met with a LOT of Lionesses. Angry looking Lionesses. Angry looking Keira. You locked eyes with her and after a second ducked behind Toons before sinking down on the ground trying to army rob out of the room hoping everyone was too distracted by everything that's going on. Oh boy where you wrong – of COURSE Keira saw you the second you tried to rob out of the room placing herself right in your way. You looked up when you hit her legs with your head which you kept down so it wouldn't been to obvious who was pressed in that room – which was overflowing with players now. Niamh and Toons already got cake in their hands (plates were overrated at this point) as Leah tried to control the chaos. You bumped into Keiras legs and looked up scared to be met with two angry glaring eyes. You tried to quickly rob backwards just to get stuck in Millies legs.

“I don't think so, y/n Bronze” Keira seethed pulling you up by your ear “Are you actually mad? Did you finally lose your plot? Why in gods name...”

“Hey Kei... you want cake... it's chocolate” your sister interrupted Keiras rant holding a hand full of cake right under the blondes nose

Keira just looked at Lucy then to you and back to Lucy who smiled like a happy kid with her handful of cake.

“I don't know if I should yell at both of you or just give up...” the blonde shook her head

“Keep calm and eat cake” Lucy smiled pushing her hand closer to Keiras face who automatically moved her head out of the way

“No thank you... it's in the middle of the night” the blonde said a little disgusted

“And?? You think we ever get away with eating cake in the middle of the night ever again??? Embrace the moment Kei... USE the moment” your sister said before she pushed the handful of cake into her mouth and you listened to what your sister said and used the moment to carefully sneaked away from Keira.

You tugged on Georgias shirt at your swift exit and she followed you just as quickly

“You know you're in big shit tomor... today... today morning... later... in the morning” your girlfriend rambled

“I know... but so worth it” you smiled and the second you two were through the door to the stairs case you pulled her back on her shirt kissing her deeply

“Not that I'm complaining...” Georgia started once you parted again “... but what brought that on?”

“You still had a little frosting..” you smirked pointing at your own lip “... I think I better check for more frosting once we're back in our room... you are a messy eater after all”

“I.. I think I dropped some of the cake...” your girlfriend stuttered a little bit and you could see her eyes darkening

“Yeah... thought so...” you smirked starting to walk up the stairs towards Georgias room when you suddenly feel your feet leave the ground and your girlfriend hoisted you over her shoulder

“What are you doing??” you laughed loudly as Georgia sprinted up the stairs

“You're a slowpoke sometimes” your girlfriend said exiting the staircase sprinting down the corridor on your floor before fumbling with the key card to open the door

“Open you stupid door” your girlfriend grumbled you still hanging over your shoulder snickering

“Let me down... makes it easier” you laughed slightly

“I nearly got it... wait a second” Georgia mumbled but a second later you heard her kicking the door

“Baby come on.... let me down” you laughed louder lightly poking her rips

“But don't run away” your girlfriend said her voice a little whine

“As if” you snorted and felt her scrunch down to put you on the ground before she came up again and you were face to face with each other

Your eyes quickly flickered down to her lips before looking at her eyes again. Before you could make up your mind you felt Georgias lips on yours kissing you deeply and you couldn't suppress a moan which your girlfriend used to slip her tongue into your mouth. She pinned you against the door her hands against your hip she used her whole body to keep you were you currently were. You on the other hand fished the little plastic card out of her hand where it poked into your skin and opened the door behind your back without even looking. The door opened with a small “beep” and you smirked against your girlfriends lips.

“Show off” Georgia mumbled against your lips and pushed you backwards into the hotel room already pulling your shirt over your head

“Fuck” you panted as your back hit the mattress next to your girlfriend a light sheet of sweat covering your body “THAT...”

“Better than the last time?” Georgia smirked smugly her breathing coming out laboured

“Nothing can top last time Babe... but you tried” you chuckled turning your body so you were pressed into the blondes side tucking your head into her neck feeling how her arm sneaked around your back pulling you closer

“I mean... I can try again” you heard the smirk feeling how her hand started to wander again “and again... and again... and again”

“No... please don't... you tried enough for tonight” you chuckled as Georgia stroked lightly over your ribs tickling you slightly before pushing her hand away positioning it on your hip

Georgia showed mercy just rubbing her thumb soothingly over your hipbone pressing a soft kiss to your hair

“You only getter better with training...” your girlfriend smirked then yelped as you poked her side

“You telling me I'm bad at what I'm doing?” you pushed yourself up onto your elbow looking down at her raising your eyebrow

“No no no no...” Georgia quickly said pulling you back down this time on top of her holding you tightly to her chest

“Mhm... that's what I thought” you mumbled closing your eyes relaxing against the blondes chest just enjoying the time you have with your girlfriend without needing to worry about your sister interrupting

You felt Georgia wriggling around under you which caused you to lift your head – again.

“Really? You still want to... again?” you look at your girlfriend expectantly

“No... I actually just tried to get the blanket” Georgia laughed as she finally got the hem of the blanket and pulled it over the two of you “... wouldn't want to deliver you back to your pit bull-like sister with a cold”

“DON'T mention my sister right now... that doesn't.. no.. just no” you grunted

“Sorry...” your girlfriend chuckled

“You're disturbing my post-orgasmic-bliss” you complained whining

“Sorry... I can... I don't know... make you forget that I just said that?” Georgia smiled her hand starting to wander towards your ass again while the other grabbed your breast teasingly

“Gosh... you really are impossible” you rolled your eyes prying her hand off your breast

“I mean... did you see my girlfriend? I can't help meself” the blonde grinned pulling you a little upwards to press a kiss to your lips

“Mhm... I did see her... still don't know how you scored her?” you teased smirking

“I didn't... she's stubborn... but I'm glad she threatened to break me legs if I don't pull my finger out of me ass...” Georgia murmured kissing you softly and smiled

“Did she now? I should talk to her... apparently she knows how to keep you in check – you can be quiet... defying” you grinned letting her kiss you over and over again

“Excuse me?” your girlfriend exclaimed acting upset

“Mhm... didn't my sister told you – multiple times I might add – to keep your hands away from me?” you grinned kissing her this time

“I CAN keep me hands to meself” Georgia smirked “Question is.. would you want that?”

“Such a rebel aren't you...” you smirked kissing along your girlfriends jaw down her to her neck

“Have me moments” Georgias voice betrayed her as she clearly getting turned on again

“Mhm.... Keira told me” you smirked against her neck before biting down slightly

“Keira??” this time it was G who got sober immediately

“It's a turn off isn't it... hearing about them” you grinned sitting up now straddling her waist

“Yes” your girlfriend grumbled “What did that wanna be ginger told you?”

“That you got your first tattoo the day after you turned 18” you smirked the blanket loosely draped around your hip

“SHE roped me into it!” Georgia exclaimed sitting up as well

“Oh really?” you smirked down on her taking her face in your hands kissing her softly “Do tell”

“She just got a new one and because she knew Mama Walsh will have her ass she convinced me to get one too... then after the next england game she hugged her mum and of COURSE Mama Walsh immediately saw it” your girlfriend told you rolling her eyes “And the next thing I know is she pulled me over by me sleeve “Georgia has one too – and she's basically a baby”... then Mama Walsh had me ass too”

“She played you...” you laughed loudly “.... she played you so hard”

“Yeah... I had to stand there for 12 Minutes getting lectured by Mama Walsh about the risks of tattoos...” your girlfriend grumbled

“To be fair... when Mama Walsh has it out for your ass you better find someone who you can distract her with” you shrugged still grinning

“Yeah... she can be scary... but I'm still sure she loves me more than Keira” Georgia grinned straining her neck a little so she could steal a kiss again

“Bet she loves ME more than all of you” you smirked pressing a wet kiss to her lips

“Yeah yeah... you're everyones favourite” your girlfriend rolled her eyes again but the slight smile never leaving her lips

“G... I... have a question” you hesitated a little bit

“What you need, baby?” Georgia asked softly but seriously

“I want a tattoo... I want you to do it” you blurted out

“What?” your girlfriend looked at you dumb folded

“I want you to tattoo me.... I know what I want and where I want it...” you said seriously

“Baby.... I can't do that” Georgia looked up at you as you stare down at her with a little betrayal in your eyes “... first.. I never inked someone and secondly... Lucy and Keira would definitely kill me... and third.. you're 16...”

“Then I'm gonna be your first like you were mine...” you grinned and with each passing second it got wider “... Lucy and Keira never need to know... and my Birthday is in two weeks”

“Which still makes you underage” your girlfriend pointed out and you heard that you slowly wearing her down

“I can get you Lucys signing if you want... like... setting up a document that she's not allowed to kill you” you smiled widely

“I tell you what... If you get that done I'll seriously think about it” Georgia said and you leaned down kissing her softly “... but I'm not doing anything big”

“Don't worry... nothing big...” you promised scratching your girlfriends neck lightly

“And where?” Georgia kissed your neck softly

“Right...” you took her hand laying it on your left side guiding it up to the point where your bra would sit “... here”

“A rib tattoo? Baby... that's a bad idea... that will hurt like a bitch” your girlfriend murmured against your neck kissing her way down to your collarbone

“I can take it... I really want it” you said breathlessly

“Maybe somewhere else?” Georgia mumbled kissing her way further down her destination clear

“That's the only place Luce won't see it immediately” you now outright moaned “Fuck”

“Mhm” your girlfriend hummed sucking your hard nipple into her mouth

“You just can't... fuck...” you started to complain but your voice betrayed you once again and your hip rocked forward on its own accord

“You want something baby??” Georgia asked after she let go of your nipple with a wet pop

“More... please” your head fell onto Gs shoulder your hips still rocking in her lap

“More?” your girlfriend smirked starting to knead your other breast

“Please” you whined

“Fingers or mouth baby?” Georgia basically growled against your skin getting slightly possessive

“Fingers” you whined lifting your hips a bit and Georgia got the hint letting her hand slip in between your legs

“You're gonna be good for me?” your girlfriend growled starting to mark your skin with small bites not enough to leave a constant mark like she'd like to

“Yes... but please” you begged and whined trying to get her fingers inside you but her hand laid still between your legs

“You won't come without permission will you baby? You'll wait until I tell you that you can come, right?” Georgia playfully bit your nipple

“I won't... I promise” you moaned rocking your hips down trying to find some pressure relieve

“Good... and you won't becauseeee...” your girlfriend teased your entrance with one finger

“Yours” you whined desperately

“Mine what?” Georgia nudged the underside of your jaw with her nose

“All yours...” you nearly broke “... G please”

“Ssshh baby... I've got you” your girlfriend soothed you slipping her finger into you

“Fuck” you whimpered feeling Georgias digit enter your heat

“Mhm... so wet... so hot... so desperate” Georgia mumbled against your jaw kissing her way to the point just under your ear “All for me or is there someone else?”

“No one else” you panted against her shoulder

“Are you sure baby? No one...” your girlfriend bit down lightly “... someone spanish maybe... Jenni Hermoso maybe?”

Your hips rocked down hard on her finger your rhythmic movement faltering for a second before it picked up again

“Hmmm...” Georgia hummed pleased “... maybe that could be arranged one day”

“Fuck...” you whimpered

“Bubs??” you heard suddenly through the door loud banging followed

“Fuck” you looked at Georgia shocked her face just as frightened

“BUBS?” Lucy said a little louder

“What??” you yelled back your hand covering your girlfriends mouth

“You okay? You were gone suddenly” your sister spoke loudly

“Yeah... just... didn't wanna wait till Keira recovered from her confusement” you tried

“Can you maybe open the door?? I'm standing here like an idiot” Lucy sneered

“It's... not the best time Luce...” you whined “I'm... about to go shower”

“Well... then let me in and shower then” your sister wasn't giving up and you knew it

“You can also go back to your own room” you said helplessly

“Can't... Less has the key card and I don't know where Less is” Lucy groaned

“Lucy please... just... go somewhere else” you whined back even knowing all mood was gone

“You are my sister... why would I go somewhere... wait a second... where is Georgia?? Is Stanway with you???” your sister exclaimed

“No for god sakes Lucy... I just want to shower in peace... fuck off now” you yelled through the room and suddenly it was quiet

“Fuck me... she really knows how to ruin the mood” you grumbled lifting yourself off your girlfriends lap who was still rooted in her place “Unbelievable”

“That was close” Georgia stammed still a little scared

“Yeah well.. I was too...” you continue to grumble mostly to yourself until... you heard the signature “beep” of the door – your head shot up first to the door then to your girlfriend who spotted the same frightened look as you

You quickly threw on a shirt and gestured to Georgia to hide – which was ridiculous since it was firstly her room and secondly there wasn't really anywhere for her to hide

“Hide” you whisper yelled panicked while you threw a shoe at the door trying to block it

“Where??” Georgia whisper yelled back looking around just as panicked

“I don't know” you pulled on some shorts quickly

“Bubs... you blocking the door?” you heard Lucys voice and already saw the crown of her head trying to make its way inside the room

“Why would I??” you answered and tried to sound annoyed watching your girlfriend ripping open the door of the closet “Really?? You wanna hide in the wardrobe??”

“You have a better idea?” your girlfriend hissed back

“Bath or Balcony?” you looked at her confused

“Bubs... the door is stuck” your sister complained again

“You are stuck you muppet” you shot back pushing your girlfriend outside on the balcony

“Yeah well maybe you open the door then” Lucy said annoyed

You quickly went over ripping the door open looking at her expectantly

“What you want and where did you get that key?” you grunted at her

“Wanted to make sure you okay – you're on Sarinas list now... and key... Leah – as the capitan she has a universal key” your sister shrugged her shoulders “Jesus Christ Bubs... open the windows would you... it seriously stinks in here”

“I will... I just didn't want to come back from me shower into a cold room” you lied weakly “you saw that I'm alright now... so... good night”

“Yeah since I don't know where Less is... can I crash at yours?” Lucy rubbed the back of her neck embarrassed

“No” you exclaimed before clearing your throat “I mean... that's a little inconvenient Luce...”

“I'm your sister” Lucy exclaimed rolling her eyes

“I know and I love you... seriously... but I just want to shower and go to bed.. I...” you said trying to come up with an excuse “... I... have this... woman problem you know....”

“Your period?” your sister asked confused

“Yes...” you nodded slowly

“And? Gosh Bubs you really scared me there for a second... you need anything?” Lucy said lovingly

“Just... peace and quiet... please” you basically begged her at this point

“Geez okay... I'm already leaving...” your sister said and you noticed she got all defensive

“Luce” you whined

“No it's okay... you're a grown up now... you don't need me anymore” Lucy said already half way through the door

“That's not true.... Lucy come on...” you said again trying to calm your sister down

“Keira said I need to let you spread your wings... WINGS Bubs... not your legs okay” your sister said and pointed at you threating

“Okay Ew... that's disgusting” you pulled a face disgusted

“Exactly... sex is disgusting... never take part in it” Lucy said happy with herself

“Yeah...” you said embarrassed “... you're too later for that I'm afraid”

“Good... now go shower and then to bed... Sarina will blast through your door in... four hours” your sister smiled quickly checking her watch

“What does Sarina want?” you ask confused

“You're on her list... you gonna run” Lucy smiled before disappearing into the corridor again

“Fuck me” you exclaimed whining closing the door making your way to the bathroom

You just stepped under the shower when you remembered something important

“FUCK” you quickly jumped out of the shower wrapping yourself in a big fluffy towel before speed walking through the room opening the balcony door again pushing your head outside looking at your girlfriend who was just covered by a thin blanket standing pressed into the corner of the outside space

“Lucys gone” you smiled innocently ushering Georgia inside

“Do you know how cold it is in England this time of the year??” your girlfriend said her teeth chattering slightly

“Yeah I know... I'm sorry... but come on... I already turned on the shower for you” you smiled

“Gosh I love you” Georgia said pressing a kiss to your forehead heading towards the bathroom

“Oh and babe... Sarina will kick our door down in about four hours...” you nonchalantly called after her and you heard a crashing sound

“WHAT??”

#lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #keira walsh x reader #barca femeni #mapi leon x reader #ona batlle x reader #woso image #jenni hermoso x reader #lionesses x reader #georgia stanway x reader #alexia putellas x reader

[13atoms]

Airplane Mode (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A quick blurb about Spencer Reid and his SO finally getting a resort vacation! (Or holiday, because I’m a Brit and saying vacation feels weird). Insp by the slightly weird holiday I’m currently on lol | 1k fluff

Holidays were a bad omen for the BAU. Like complaining a night shift in a hospital is too quiet, or that it hasn’t rained in a while. Holidays meant something was bound to go wrong. So you’d waited until the very last minute to book the flights. Packed your suitcases two hours before leaving for the airport.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to be excited to go away, or even to tell many friends you’d be on holiday.

The louder you said it, the more likely it was that Spencer would be called into work, and the whole thing would fall to the wayside in a series of frantic phone calls. Ultimately, it would only mean Spencer felt awful, and guilty, and it would have been better if you’d never planned anything in the first place. It wasn’t his fault, you couldn’t resent him for it, people’s lives were at stake.

But you were so excited for a vacation.

Even in the airport, as Spencer passed through security with the lazy, efficient movements of a weary regular flier, you’d been waiting for his phone to ring. For it to all be over. You’d held his arm in the airport lounge, waiting for the gate announcement, not daring to speak a word in case the universe heard you and Spencer had to jump on a different plane before yours had even taken off. Then there would be the arguing with the airline. The money lost, the forms for it to be refunded by the FBI, your bags missing because they were already packed deep into the hold of the plane.

You had clutched your coffee cup, already feeling dread and exhaustion overtaking you.

Then the plane had taken off. You hadn’t quite believed it. Spencer put his phone on airplane mode, and showed it to you.

“We’ve made it,” he whispered, through a smile, “it would be in violation of the Federal Aviation Administration regulations to take a call from work now.”

You shoved your face into his neck, and let yourself begin to feel excited.

The resort was one recommended by a colleague of Spencer’s, boring and relaxing, adults’ only and pleasantly quiet. There was a time and a place for exploring and excitement, but truly the thought of Spencer spending a single week away from work felt like excitement enough.

In the taxi from the airport, when Spencer had turned his phone back on and not received summons from Gideon, you finally let yourself utter the words:

“I can’t believe we’re on holiday.”

“I know!”

Spencer was giddy, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d heard him giggle, and it was so wonderful you had to pull his hand into yours and squeeze it.

“I am so excited to do nothing,” he admitted, though you knew his e-reader contained a small library’s worth of books.

“I just want to eat good food, and spend time with you.”

“I think I’m going to turn my phone off,” he said abruptly, as though he’d only just had the thought he could.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Garcia knows where I am, if there’s a real emergency. That way I won’t feel like I have to check it all the time.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

He smiled at you, and you watched as he shot off a quick text to Penelope, before completely turning his phone off. For a moment there was silence, and you both waited, listening to the sound of rubber on tarmac and feeling the heat of the sun outside. Nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. The realisation made you burst out laughing at the same time as Spencer, and you caught a flash of the driver’s backwards glance in the rear view mirror.

“You know what, mine too!”

You turned your phone off in solidarity, and stacked it beside his on the middle seat.

“Swap?” Spencer asked, offering you his phone, but you shook your head.

“Straight into the safe, when we get to the hotel. They can stay there.”

“That’s an even better idea.”

You knew, if it came down to it, if a life was at risk, he’d get the message from the hotel reception and go back to Quantico. That was okay. It was part of who he was, he needed the BAU, as much as they needed him.

There was a chain of people between that decision being made and Spencer finding out, including Gideon and Penelope, who would do everything in that power not to ask him. And that felt good.

For the first day, you let yourselves do only what you wanted to, to explore, to lie in bed, to read. Spencer needed the reminders not to watch every little thing that happened, not to examine poolsides and restaurants like they were crime scenes, but soon that went away and the frown in his brow was smoothed.

He wore swim trunks. He tried sips of your cocktail while floating in a pool. He laughed, and cried at one of the books he read, and ate properly, and let himself spend hours lying against your body in bed.

When you left the hotel, you both forgot your phones, and had to pay the taxi driver to turn around and get them.

“We should just leave them,” you’d joked breathlessly, as the receptionist concealed exasperation and politely led you to the room you’d just checked out of.

“That would be pointless, I’d just have to buy another one –” Spencer was distracted, following the receptionist, working out whether you’d miss the plane in the worst possible scenario.

You could see the stress in him, as the taxi driver waited outside with your bags, his meter running.

“Not if we stay here forever,” you teased, and finally saw the fall of his shoulders, the smile lines appearing on his face.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

Spencer made it a whole 24 hours after landing without getting on another plane, and you considered it a small victory. When he called you on the jet you could almost see him, skin a little bit more tanned, his hair still a little curlier from the sun and the chlorine.

“You’d better bring a souvenir, jet setter,” you teased, and imagined Spencer wrinkling his nose before he replied.

“We’re going to Milwaukee.”

#sowwy for the mobile formatting #i just got past the first Spencer’s mum episode i am a WRECK #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #13atoms #fic #fluff

[lady-raziel]

long reaction to the update

ok. so they put out an update video! since i've been commentating for the last three days i might as well subject you all to more of my thoughts today.

main takeaway: this was a good apology video. i mean it. short and to the point, no overproduction, heartfelt and honest (and not a ukelele to be seen. thank god.) they took ownership of the situation, apologized, and restated how much they value their relationship with the fandom.

their solution is to make the watcher tv platform into kind of an iteration of patreon where content is available for early access before it is released onto youtube later. this is clearly a better option than paywalling everything for everyone. i'm not sure what the relative breakdown of costs turns out to be when you compare how much they were making on patreon after the platform took their cut VS how much it costs in overhead to run and maintain their own platform (how much it costs annually to contract via Vimeo, essentially). but i'm sure that's part of the calculation.

all things considered, that does seem like the best option out of all the alternatives. it allows them to not completely abandon any of the pans they have simmering over the fire for the time being. i don't think i ever thought they were going to just say "oops, forget about the streaming thing! let's pretend that never happened!" because at this point they've invested quite a lot of time and money into it, and i don't disagree that keeping it in some iteration may help them make up some of the funds they're lacking.

i would say, it's fine to keep the streamer. this is one of the ok outcomes, all things considered-- but if they're going to do it, they've GOT to do it smart from this point forward. listen to both the fans and the consultants intimately. both are going to have valid points, and both are going to be right. listening to too much of either side will sink this thing because each has motives and expertise that the other doesn't. if the fans say $6 is too much, listen to them-- but have conversations with business consultants about how much you realistically need to charge to make things work.

also, i'd use this whole situation as a learning experience. watcher is a young company, and it's literally inevitable that mistakes will happen. what's different is that the watcher crew haven't really been in a position before where they've been on the receiving end of the internet-angry-justice-hammer to this extent. it's one thing to watch it happen to others, but it's a position of extreme privilege (and a bit of hubris) to think "but that won't happen to me, because i'm built different." naw, man-- two things in life are inevitable: death and fuckups. the callout posts get us all in the end.

what's really important is that they use this as a wakeup call that even the most loyal fandoms will only follow you so far to the cliff's edge, and you don't want to push that. you have to strike a balance between the passion projects that you think are worthy and the stuff that maybe doesn't excite you as much anymore but the people want to see. a little fanservice keeps the lights on, as unfair as that might seem. i'm gonna make 50 markiplier choccy milk memes just so i can make one niche political joke once and a while for 6 likes. it is what it is.

i'd also use this as a chance to take a very careful look at company structure and finances. it's not fun to do and nobody likes it. trust me-- this is hard whether you're a single adult trying to pay the bills or the freaking US government (speaking from experience on both-- i have to read the president's budget for work frequently). but you all have to ask hard questions about the ratio of creative staff you take on VS staff for administrative and other business roles, as well as the costs and benefits of everything you spend money on. how many staff members are essential to location shoots? can this video be shot with 2 cameras instead of 3 and thus you don't need another cameraperson? you might even have to come to the decision that instead of pitching a new show it makes more sense to use those funds to hire your essential non-creative roles or contract firms or freelancers.

paying staff a fair wage with benefits speaks highly of what watcher wants their values to be. it's hard to find such a position in a creative role and still actually get to work on things you care about. but it would be much worse if watcher didn't make realistic decisions about finances and it lead to the death of the company and everyone losing their jobs. the whole watcher company can work, in my opinion, but not without some sacrifices. they're going to have to run it more like a business and less like a youtube-channel-turned-business in the future if they want to survive.

last thing i'll add is that while i do think this was a good apology video, i still think they hurt themselves by not putting out some sort of statement on Friday or Saturday just to say that they were formulating a response. As i've said in other posts, it's ok and in fact beneficial to not make a kneejerk reaction, but it's also very important to communicate that you SEE what's happening. you SEE what people are saying and THAT'S why you need more time to respond. saying nothing and leaving the angry public to wonder if you dropped your phone off the Hoover Dam or just don't care? that's a fumble. it's a common mistake companies make in a crisis, but that doesn't mean it doesn't erode trust fast.

this could have been handled better in many ways. we see that, and i'm glad watcher says they see that too. crucial going forward is taking all this and patching the errors that caused all this to fall apart and learning from the experience.

tbh at this point what i'm most sad about is that the watcher crew have probably been too stressed out and upset to appreciate some of the absolute bangers people have been laying down to clown on them. i think if it wasn't about them they might be touched by the collective attitude and creative spirit. /j

#watcher #watcher tv #after this post i have got to actually not spend time writing long reactions about this anymore because i too #have fires caused by my own fuckups to put out #alas

[lexirosewrites]

The only thing worse than having to get braces put on as an adult is presenting as an omega on the exact same day— both far later than is typical.

It results in utter chaos.

At least, that’s how Steve felt about the whole ordeal.

Robin had been kind enough to stick around for his long appointment so she could make sure he had everything he needed afterwards.

Ice pack, pain killers, mouthwash. All the essentials.

They were prepared.

Just… not for a sudden presentation heat to start on the way home.

“Oh god. Oh god, Steve, okay listen— don’t panic. I know you’re in pain, but you need to hold tight so I can go get stuff to help you. Shit!”

Steve’s entire face feels worse than after Hargrove got through with it. Like ground beef.

His gums throb and his jaw aches terribly.

And now Robin’s leaving. Why is she leaving?

“Robsh?” Steve slurs out in a yell. The action makes the bands pull tighter.

“Be right back!”

She’s out the door and he’s left on the couch by himself. In pain. Awful, agonizing, burning pain.

Steve squirms around, trying to get comfortable.

Everything is hot. Too hot. It’s more than just his face— it’s his whole body. His muscles are twitchy, like they need to be stretched.

He’s laying in something wet. Blood? Could be. Maybe his mouth is bleeding. Seems reasonable at the moment.

“Owwww,” he whines to himself. “Fuck.”

The orthodontist said it would be mildly agitating pain and discomfort afterwards, not whole body sweats or cramps.

His head spins.

Where did Robin go again? She left so quickly, it’s hard to recall her reasons for leaving in such a rush.

Is he gonna die from braces? Can that even happen? Would he be the first?

“Hey, Stevie. As promised, I’ve got a strawberry banana smoothie with your name on it. Did Robin go home? Her car isn’t in the drivew—”

Huh?

“—and what in the hell is happening here?”

Steve rolls over to confirm that it’s not a burglar in his living room, but it’s just Eddie.

Oh. No? Hold on a moment.

Eddie has never smelled like that before.

He’s always had a faint smoke and leather sorta scent that even Steve’s unrefined beta nose could pick up on, but it’s much stronger than that now.

It’s deeper, more powerful and overwhelming.

It’s mouthwatering. Thigh clenching, even.

He whines in want.

“Alpha?” slips out before Steve can overthink it.

Eddie freezes and his eyes widen for a second. Then they narrow in a calculating way, like they’re trying to figure him out.

He sets the smoothie down and kneels next to the couch, one hand reaching out to cup Steve’s cheek lightly.

Steve winces at the touch, but his fingers are cold and they actually feel good on his sore face, so he relaxes into it.

“Hi there, pretty boy. Pink bands, huh? Cute. But it seems braces aren’t the only new thing today. You doing okay?” Eddie asks gently, soothingly.

He sounds more alpha than Steve’s ever heard him speak. The tone is comforting and reassuring.

Steve still isn’t entirely sure what they’re talking about though. He knows he had braces put on and then Robin left him alone. There’s some gaps in there somewhere and he feels like death.

His head is spinning too fast.

“I don’t know where Robin went,” he confesses in a whisper.

Eddie nods slowly, his expression understanding and kind. It makes Steve feel safe, unjudged for losing his best friend.

“I’m guessing she went to get some supplies for you, sweetheart. I’ve heard that the first one isn’t usually too bad, but Robin worries about you, ya know?”

He smells so good. How is Steve supposed to pay attention when Eddie smells that good?

Confused, he asks, “She was worried about my braces?” Too many words. It pulls at the bands in his mouth and he winces.

Eddie’s thumb brushes along his cheek sympathetically.

“No, baby… not quite. You’re in heat, Stevie.”

Heat?

No, that’s for omegas. Steve would know if he was an omega. He’d have heats. His body would be too hot and he’d produce slick and be attracted to alphas.

Ah.

“I’m an omega?” It’s as much a question to the universe as a shocked statement.

Eddie purses his lips. Conflict.

“You’re presenting a little later than usual, but evidently so. I’m guessing your lack of a pack before didn’t help anything, but you have us now. We’re gonna take care of you, honey… I’ll keep you safe, omega,” he promises solemnly.

The wetness between Steve’s legs becomes far more apparent.

It’s not that Steve never looked at Eddie before and thought he was attractive or that he’d make the perfect alpha to some lucky omega.

Steve just didn’t think he was that omega.

Or an omega at all, for that matter.

Eddie deserved more than some fucked up beta. He’s brave and kind, a good man.

He can visibly see when the scent of his fresh slick hits the alpha’s nose. The way Eddie’s nostrils flare and his breathing catches in his throat, like he’s trying not to inhale too deeply.

“Eddie?”

His eyes instantly dart to Steve’s mouth. He looks hungry. Starving, even.

For once in his life, Steve’s confident he won’t be rejected.

It’s in Eddie’s warm scent, in the way he’s always glanced at him a little too long, and never breaks his promises to him. Steve can see it clearly now.

This has been a long time coming.

“Anything.”

“Kiss me, alpha?”

Eddie doesn’t question whether he’s sure. He doesn’t tell Steve that this is a conversation for later or even hesitate.

He just holds Steve’s face like something fragile and precious when he kisses his lips far too carefully. Soft. Gentle.

They’re chapped from his appointment. Neither seem to care.

It’s a slow, lingering kiss. It ends much the same way.

The rush of pleasure and pure joy floods his entire body, making the pain in his jaw negligible when he lets out his first omegan chirp of happiness.

He still aches and yearns, but the ache is focused now. His inner omega just wants Eddie— his alpha.

“Please, Ed,” Steve whimpers, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck and getting his scent right from the source.

The alpha scratches down his back slowly, trying to calm him.

It’s an act full of love and kindness, Eddie’s attempt to not take advantage of him in his current state.

In any other situation, it would be noble. Steve would be flattered by the self control it cost an alpha to not ravage in omega in heat who’s begging for attention.

But he needs this. He’s also technically only in late pre-heat. That’s as far as presentation heats usually get.

Fever and need are there, but not the complete lack of awareness that accompanies full heats. He can make decisions.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?”

Steve can tell the effects of heat are taking ahold of his inhibitions though.

There’s no other reasonable explanation for the way he blurts out, “Cum all over my braces?”

#part two with actual smut to come soon!!! #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steddie ficlet #omegaverse #a/b/o #braces #my fics

[fandomfuntimem]

More dp x dc and/or just dp stuff i would like to see more of.

(This time just stuff i think would be fun)

Danny gets more animalistic and ghostly in ghost form over time:

I've always loved the joke "from the day we are born we are slowly dying" and since this guy is half dead, he slowly looks more like a ghost when in his ghost form.

As for the animalistic thing. I dont mean legit growling or purring. I mean him having painted ears that move around and pin back when mad. Maybe a tail (tails are fun for expressing emotions). Pupils that dilate and slit. Stuff like that. He just gets more funky with time.

Constantine and Danny actually get along:

They're both tired, magical, and have seen some shit. If they are both adults when meeting they can be drinking buddies or something idk.

If Constantine met Danny as a teen tho i imagine he wouldn't look down on Danny or get too annoyed with him. He would treat him as an equal. He recognises and magic users are different, and Danny has been dealing with the magical bullshit all alone. This kid deserves some respect damn it! Infact it would be funny if the JL interacted with them at the same time and realized they were actually both really similer. Similer facial expressions and exhausted attitudes.

Danny is just stupidly calm in the face of horrific things:

I tried to find that meme with the "well that just happened" thing but couldnt find it.

But yeah. Mans is used to it.

Danny is more conflicted about where he belongs:

Too alive to be dead, too dead to be alive. Poor guy is practicly the town punching bag and ghosts always target him for what he is. He feels like he never belongs. It should be expressed more often. Like maybe he feels free and happy as Phantom, but he also knows that as Danny he's who his family and friends love and care about. Make him conflicted.

In a dp x dc context. I feel like at first you think he would fit in amoungst the heros. But he's too young to interract with the adult heros, but too experienced and powerful to interact with the younger heros. He struggles to fit in and he has to work through that. That also circles back to the Constantine point. I dont know much about the magic users in dc, but i can image theres a very large veriety of them all ranging in species and age. So maybe he belongs most with them, cuz to them he's just another acultist.

THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE FLUFF!:

STOP THE TORTURE, STOP THE HURT, LET THERE JUST BE FAMILIAL FLUFF!!!!!! LET THERE BE HEALING!!!! PROCESSING GRIEF AND EMOTIONS!!!!!!!!! LET THEM BE HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc comics #funtime speaketh #i wanted to do another one #i just like it #hopefully the last

[readychilledwine]

Lost Bonds pt 4

Summary - The last thing Tamlin planned to have happen was a bond snapping between him and Y/N Archeron. Now the big question becomes, is it too late to fix what has been broken?

Warnings - stereotypical happy ever after, grudges, cutting ties with family, rhysand being a decent brother in law, divorce, children, babies, pregnancy, reader's powers are yin to Nesta's yang, loosely edited (squint away any mistakes💕)

A/n - I know some people might be upset with the direction this ended in, but it felt... right? Forgive me.

✨️Tamlin Masterlist✨️

Lost Bonds: Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

The Fire in Spring *can be read as a bonus Calanmai smut scene*

Rhysand was eerily calm as Azriel approached his office with Feyre. For the first time since her arrival here, Feyre would be in a seat he typically only forced the Inner Circle to instead of at his side.

Rhys sat and waited, hands laced together as they entered. “You are probably wondering why I asked you two to come in. Sit.” He motioned to the chairs across from him, not missing the look of confusion on Feyre's face. He waited for them to settle before saying the one thing he knew would begin the fight he prepared himself for, “I sent y/n to Spring yesterday. For Calanmai.”

Azriel's hands instantly twitched, and the fight began.

Three weeks had past with you and Tamlin and Tamlin and you. They were spent deep in the throes of passion. In need and want and want and need and every lingering emotion in between.

He had worshiped you. Truly and fully. He explored every inch of skin, tasting and kissing it every time like it was his last meal, like these were his last moments and he would rather spend them nowhere else than between the thighs he had become obsessed with.

It had taken 3 weeks for the bond to cool down enough for him to attempt to go back to his duties. He still ached for you and the completion that came with being yours, and you ached as well. You were like air to each other. Something so simple, yet so vital to life.

He sighed as he entered his office and sat in front of Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. “You selfish-”

His hand went up. “If you're going to start throwing names around, shadowsinger, I have several for you. Be silent and allow me to discuss this with your lord and lady.”

Rhys was the first to speak after the blatant dismissal. “Where is she?”

“She should be resting. She's had a long morning already. She spent the morning with other Ladies of the Court discussing the upcoming Summer celebrations. I believe she is still socializing, though. I do not keep track of her constantly. She is a grown adult.”

Feyre scoffed and Tamlin raised his brow at her before she instantly looked down. “Is she happy?”

“Happier than I've been in a long time,” you entered the room, long hair falling in waves, an apricot colored dress swaying as you did. The colors of Spring made you even more radiant, your skin glowing, eyes dancing with light that had been missing for several years. “I assume you brought papers for me.”

You moved to Tamlin, standing behind him and holding a hand out for his. Feyre was shaking, refusing to look at you. “If you sign this, if you choose to stay, I never want to see you again.” The words should have cut like a knife, but all you could do was sigh.

“Would you like me to stay in Night then?”

Azriel glared towards Tamlin. “Its where you belong. Where your husband is. Where your family is.”

“Where your mate is,” you began to trail on for him. “Where you can have your cake and eat it too. Where your family has spent the past 4 years letting you make a fool out of me. Fond memories, yes.”

“Our marriage wasn't always unhappy, y/n.”

“No. But it became unhappy the second you had an affair. Sign the papers, Azriel.”

Rhysand stayed oddly silent, as did Tamlin, the two high lords were in a silent conversation regarding the scent only they seemed to be able to detect. You were not leaving Spring, not when you, albeit unknowingly, were carrying its salvation inside of you.

Tamlin pointed to the line that would grant you your freedom. Tapping it twice in a silent message to you to sign and stay at his side as he watched Azriel. He had no doubt the male planned on grabbing you, upset that he was losing his own claim to a made sister, upset that the Cauldron had paired him with another.

Tamlin knew his look. The look of a male who wanted everything with no compromise. He remembered being there. Being that male. He knew the pain that came with it, the anger. He watched you sign, signature so flawless and soft, curling the page that gave you freedom and you stepped back. Hiding that joy that was flooding him as you did.

“I won't stop fighting for you.”

You shook your head as you laid the ring on the desk and slid it to him. “You will. You will realize this was best for both of us in time. You will find happiness, peace, and what you are looking for.”

“I won't sign.”

Rhysand pinched his nose and then picked at his jacket, a nervous habit now instead of obsession. “Azriel, sign the papers.”

“I won't-”

“You will because I have tolerated every moment of this bull shit knowing it is against every law we have honored for thousands of years.” Tamlin was oddly calm, hand still in yours. “I tolerated it for her happiness.”

“She was happy with me.”

“Until 4 years ago, yes.”

You turned to Rhysand, eyes pleading. “Please.” Her brother in law nodded, taking her side and owning his error another time.

“Sign the papers, Azriel.” Feyre and Azriel seemed to freeze. It was a set command, one the shadowsinger would not be able to push. “Sign the papers.”

“I will never forgive you for this.”

Rhys shrugged. “I'll add it to the many times I was doing what was best for everyone else but made the bad guy. Sign the papers.”

Azriel stared at Tamlin as he signed the papers before taking the ring and standing. He left without saying goodbye, without looking back at you one last time. Without even so much as a sign of the love you two once shared.

“You will never see Nyx again.” Tamlin tugged the bond, sending you his love and support regardless of what you picked but silently begging you to stay.

Your throat tightened as you looked to Feyre, “Are you truly that selfish? Without Tamlin, you would not even have Nyx. You wouldn't have a mate.” She glared at you, chin head high as you continued, “you were never met to be Tamlin's, Feyre. Imagine a world where you would have just let me go, where I came here as the person who was supposed to.” She suddenly looked away, eyes squeezing shut as she did. “If that is the road you would like us to go down, consider it done. You are no longer my sister, no longer my other half, no longer part of me. If my happiness means this little to you, then we need to part ways.”

Feyre just nodded, standing and holding her hand out to Rhysand. Your brother in law shook his head, nodding for her to go. He sunk further into the chair he was in before looking to you and Tamlin. “Congratulations,” in was sincere, soft. Rhys grabbed your hand, kissing the palm. “You will always have a home in Velaris.”

10 years later

Tamlin sighed quietly next to you, bouncing your third child and daughter, Willow, on his lap as the other two sat. Oakland, your oldest son, was reading with his back leaned against your legs. Fleur, your middle daughter, was sitting by the glittering fish pond every court was circling.

High Lord's meetings were now quarterly. A way of holding each other all in check and accountable. Each one was more of a bitchfest than productive, but it had allowed relations between several courts to improve.

This one had been called due to Helion stepping down. With Beron gone, Autumn stable, and his mate and son finally at his side, the High Lord decided there was no better way to celebrate than relinquishing his powers to Lucien and enjoying the lost time he should have had with Andromeda.

Lucien looked to Tamlin, a little lost on the question Rhysand was asking before clearing his throat to answer, “I will not be enforcing rank and class if that's what you are asking. Fae are fae. Lower or higher does not matter to me. Laws will be enforced, tax will be enforced, and opportunities will be fair.” Rhys seemed content in that answer, looking at Feyre and Nyx before nodding.

You two knew you were next and Tamlin sighed as he handed Willow to you, much to her protest. “Spring is fully rebuilt and has implemented a version of Tarquin’s laws that work best for us,” the mentioned high lord smiled and raised his bubbling wine. “Our army is young, growing, but eager.”

He looked to you, “We would appreciate the spies being removed from our court, though. We are willing to answer any questions someone may have. We feel the use of spies in unnecessary. We have opened our boarders and home to anyone."

“The mortals,” Eris began slowly. “They are?”

“Part of our court as of two months ago,” you answered for Tamlin. “We are the only court they agreed to form a pact with. Jurian and Vassa will remain ruling over them as a better connection point.”

Eris hummed. Satisfied with the answer.

“Will they be asking to travel?” Kal watched his daughter, stopping her before her snow pale hand touched the pond with a soft no. “There are concerns over them coming to Winter. They were not made for such temperatures.”

Tamlin nodded, “We had hoped to discuss that with each court one on one. They are… beautiful, curious creatures. They want to travel the courts and experience different foods and lifestyles. Provisions will need to be made for that to happen, though.”

You couldn't help but smile, hearing what you used to be called beautiful by the most stunning male you had ever seen. His hand moved to rest on your thigh, squeezing softly as the next question came.

“The growth in Spring, the herbs, the medicinal plants, the food, flowers,” Thesan took a short pause as he and his mate communicated silently. “How did that happen?”

Tamlin squeezed your thigh again. “Nesta was blessed with the powers of death. Y/n was blessed with the powers of fertility and live. Her presence alone has brought light and growth back to Spring.”

“And children,” Kal murmured. You chuckled softly. You knew your every growing family was a source if jealousy from several other High Lords and Ladies.

“Yes, and children. The increase of faelings in Spring has been our biggest blessing. We are averaging 20-25 babes a year instead of the standard 3.”

You watched Rhys smile behind his hand as Feyre still refused to look your way. “And how many more do you two plan on having?” The question came from Cassian. He had taken to his nieces and nephew like they were second nature to him. He was their favorite uncle, and Nesta was fighting Elain hard for favorite Auntie.

Tamlin looked at you. “Perhaps we will be done after this new one arrives.” You shook your head quickly, lip pouting out. “I promised her 12.” Eris and Lucien both spit out their wine. Having grown up with many siblings, the two of them both looked shocked as Helion and Lady Autumn both smiled wide. “We will decide here in a month or two.”

Your hand absentmindedly moved to your very swollen stomach. This one was a boy. You felt it in your soul, and new Tamlin was secretly excited over the idea of another beautiful son.

The meeting came to a close as soon as Summer finished their updates. Tamlin helped you stand, moving his hand to your lower back as he walked you and your three toddlers out of the room. You could feel both of their eyes on you. A lingering cold Hazel gaze, a heartbroken blue one.

He tugged the bond softly before winnowing you home and immediately taking you to bed as the children's nannies all came to collect them for nap time.

“She looked regretful,” Tamlin unlocked your dress, kissing your shoulder softly. “She will approach soon.”

“It doesn't matter if she does.” The acceptance came so easily now. “We have each other, our family. We have this,” you tugged the bond. “Nothing will come between our happy ever after.” You held your pinky to his, and he wrapped his much larger one around it. “To us and our happy ever after then.”

“To us, petal.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@impossibelle @fxckmiup @applerubyy @awkardnerd @sleepylunarwolf @macimads @esposadomd @stormhearty @starcrossedsan @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thisblogisaboutabook @ohemgeewhat @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3 @b0xerdancer @forever-paramore28 @circe143 @ancientbeing10 @disgruntledturtleduck @fandomarchiveilyd

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin x reader #tamlin x archeron!reader #tamlin x yn #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - P4L

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[3k] Two weeks since John B and Sarah have been gone and the pogues decide it's time for a proper memorial to say goodbye, but an impulsive gesture leaves two of the four remaining pogues heads spinning.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, unestablished relationship/unrequited love (Pope x Kiara), mentions of child abuse/neglect, general angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ This is where things get a little tricky. Also, tumblr decided to kick me out of my mf account so thats why this is like 2 days late instead of one, I DID NOT LIE TO YALL😭 and sorry if this chapter moves a little fast

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“RISE AND SHINE, BLONDIE.” You whispered in the sleeping boy’s ear. JJ immediately slapped a harsh palm over his ear, effectively slapping himself and waking himself up, groaning in pain as you stood by giggling. 

“Fuck you.” He mumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he sat up, Marley emerging next to him from under the covers. You tilted your head at the dog, scoffing.

“You do know that is my dog, right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at a sleepy-eyed JJ who simply looked at the animal over his shoulder before turning back to you and shrugging with a sly smile on his face.

“Not anymore. Her real owner gives her bacon and she loves it.” He retorted, throwing an arm over Marley and pulling her into his side as he rubbed the top of her head. “Ain’t that right, girl?”

You rolled your eyes, your bare feet patting against the hardwood floors of The Chateau as you left the room, calling over your shoulder. “Then her real owner can clean up the aftermath when she vomits it out because she refuses to chew.” You reprimanded playfully, sliding your slippers onto your feet that were sat by the front door. “I’m gonna clean up a bit. Pope and Kie should be here soon. And I bought more cereal, it’s above the fridge.” You called out before going out onto the porch, letting the door shut behind you, the screen rattling. 

Today marked two weeks since John B and Sarah disappeared.

Pope and Kiara had finally made time in their schedules to do a proper send off. Not that you blamed them — Kiara’s parents wanted her as far away from the pogues as possible, with you being a semi-exception. They’d swamped her with work after school at The Wreck, working from the time school ended until the street lights came on. The weekends were no different, with the addition of taking the car away, only allowing her to drive it on the weekdays to and from school.

Heyward had Pope doing grocery run after grocery run, as well catching some of the seafood supply himself. Pope didn’t mind though, he was working on repairing his relationship with his parents after everything that happened. Things seemed to be looking up, Heyward didn’t scowl when you all came around anymore and his mother started to greet you all again. They were easing up on the restrictions, too — allowing Pope to drive the car again and be out past ten.

You and JJ had been managing — he was taking small, odd jobs here and there. Mowing lawns, fixing cars just to keep the lights on and the water running. You did what you could — sneaking into your house, only once or twice, to take some necessities and things to sell. You’d managed to pawn off a good chunk of your mother’s jewelry and some things you didn’t need anymore. It was enough to keep you both fed and clean.

Life was starting to seem okay again. It didn’t seem like there was such a large storm cloud over you and your friends anymore. Now, you just all felt an emptiness when you were together, which was probably why you weren’t together as much anymore.

School was…well, school. You and JJ hadn’t been since it happened. No adults to force you to go, right? Pope and Kie had been a few times, but their parents allowed them some time to themselves occasionally. 

Despite everything, today was the first day you all would be hanging out as a full group again. The Chateau always looked a mess but admittedly, you and JJ hadn’t been helping the place to look any better. The porch was littered with beer bottles, soda cans, snack wrappers. Things that had been piling up from your late night talks. 

Grabbing a plastic bag, you started gathering all of the trash and throwing it inside, the space already looking better.

“SO, HOW ARE WE DOING THIS EXACTLY?” Kiara asked, hands in her pockets as she stood in front of the big tree, next to Pope. The sun was starting to set, casting a low, orange hue over the backyard.

She and Pope had arrived not too long ago, the gathering not being as lively as it used to be. Less smiles, less laughs. There was small talk and a few jokes here and there but it just seemed so forced, as if no one wanted to say “let’s just get this over with”.

The group had been divided, although none of you would admit it aloud. It seemed as if Pope and Kiara did their thing, while you and JJ did yours. 

“We could just carve it. Might take a while, though…” Pope pitched, rubbing his hands over the top of his head and shifting his weight. 

“I mean, we got all day.” JJ shrugged simply, adjusting the baseball cap on his head. “I say we carve this baby up.” He shrugged, hiking up the toolbox in his hand, the metal objects inside rattling, and walking to the forefront of the group. You walked up beside him, looking up with your hands in your back pockets. “Care to do the honors?” He smiled down at you, flicking out a pocket knife in your direction.

Taking the object from his hand, you faced the large, loud live oak tree and began carving the initials of your fallen friend into the wood.

THREE HOURS AND TWO BEERS LATER AND THE TREE WAS CARVED AND BRANDED. A tan-colored, heart-shaped splotch in the center.

2003   2020

JOHN B ROUTLEDGE

P4L

After you’d finished carving, JJ had done the honors of engraving the words with a heated piece of metal, burning the words forever into the oak. The four of you raised a beer to John B, hoping that he could feel you wherever he was.

You’d branched off afterwards, something that never happened before but you’d grown accustomed to the odd dynamic between the group now. You all tried your hardest to ignore it or remedy it but it was useless. 

Pope was sitting on a log, staring at the fire JJ had started. JJ was swinging in the hammock as you made your way over to Kiara, who was sitting on the steps of The Chateau.

“Hey. You alright?” You asked, sitting down next to the girl as she took a sip of her beer, humming in response.

“As alright as I can be, I guess.” She replied almost despondently. You were all grieving in your own ways but something about Kiara’s grief didn’t seem like grief. It was like she was dealing with some other conflicting emotions on top of it all. “You and JJ have been keeping this place up, huh? I can actually see wood on the floor.” She joked lightly.

You chuckled in response. “Yeah... yeah, we’re trying. The place is one kick away from collapsing but it’s a home, nonetheless.”

“Have you been home? Since…” You nodded your head at the girl’s question, staring down at your sneakers.

“...Once or twice just to steal some shit to pawn off. I don’t really care for anything in that house anymore. Or anyone…” Kiara simply drew her lips into a thin line, nodding silently with no clue as to how to continue the conversation. So, you took the initiative for her. “How’ve you been? With your parents? Pope?”

She just grimaced and shrugged, playing with the rim of the open beer bottle. “They’re... going, I suppose. My parents don’t even know I’m here right now. If they did…” She trailed off, scoffing. “And Pope, I don’t know. He’s sweet, he’s just not…” She trailed off once again, but this time it was like she knew what she wanted to say but it was almost as if she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She seemed weary, hesitant — eyes fleeting between your own and the blades of grass beneath her feet. “Whatever. Forget it. Me and Pope are figuring it out, I guess. I’m trying to give it a chance.”

“That’s good.” You smiled smally, nodding absentmindedly. “If it helps, he really does like you. So, even if you two don’t work out, just let him down easy. He’s our friend and a really good guy.” She simply nodded, taking another swig of her beverage and looking out into the distance. Suddenly, she was standing from the steps, hands on her knees.

“I’m gonna go get another beer...” She sighed before walking back inside.

Maybe you were reading too much into it but Kiara’s grief was seeming more like a cold shoulder...

“YOU WARM ENOUGH, POPE?” You inquired, sitting next to the boy on the log, him shooting you a small smile before returning his gaze to the flames in front of him. The fire casting an amber glow over his skin, making his eyes seem browner, almost softer. 

“Yeah, a little too hot.” He chuckled lightly, leaning back further onto the wooden seat, placing his hands behind him for support. “...I meant to ask, is JJ okay? Like, actually?” He asked with a bit of hesitance, eyeing the blonde swaying calmly on the hammock. You followed his sights, spotting JJ swaying lowly before turning back to Pope.

“He’s…doing better than I expected. But that goes for all of us, I suppose.” You offered honestly. “Why’d you ask?” You questioned, to which Pope shrugged one shoulder before replying.

“I know John B was a really big part of his life. If I was as close as those two, I don’t know how I’d feel. I know we haven’t been around much, Kie and I, but he just seems…too calm.” You didn’t know how to tell Pope that JJ was far from fine. That you’d hear him crying at night, muffled as he tried to wake you not knowing that you couldn’t sleep knowing he was outside the door crying and you couldn’t do anything to comfort him.

You’d tried asking him about it yourself. He simply acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about and you weren't one to push him. Not now, at least.

“He’s handling it all in his own way.” You reassured with mild uncertainty. “But I’ll keep an eye on him. How are you, though?”

The boy drew his lips into a thin line, tilting his head to the side in thought before shrugging and looking out at the fire in front of him. “I…don’t know.” He struggled out, almost as if he wasn’t completely sure of the words but also unsure if he was truly unsure. His brown eyes met yours, slightly glassed over with frustrated tears. “I really just don’t know.”

You gave him a pitiful smile before scooting closer and throwing your arm over his shoulders. The two of you sat in warm, content silence. In all your time of knowing Pope, he was never either fully closed off or openly emotional. He was the definition of a ticking time bomb — bottling everything up until he reached a certain breaking point. But this time, you’d figured he’d had all the meltdowns he could. 

AS YOU APPROACHED THE HAMMOCK, another figure became clear next to JJ’s — Marley curled up in a sleeping ball of fur next to the blonde. You chuckled under your breath at the sight, nudging the swing with your knee to prompt JJ to open his eyes. The boy peeked one eye open before the other, eyes fleeting the yard at Pope and Kiara’s frames talking at the bonfire before returning to yours. 

You took a seat on the grass in front of the hammock, looking up at JJ as he made the small effort to turn on his side to look down at you without disturbing the peaceful animal beside him. 

“Done being the group therapist?” He yawned, pushing the blonde locs of hair out of his face. You simply shrugged, rubbing a hand across your forehead. 

“Yeah, my office is closed.” You sighed, leaning back on your palms — small pebbles and mulch chips digging into them but you were too tired to care. “But you know I’m always willing to listen for you.” You said playfully, shooting the blonde a wink. He giggled in response, leaning forward in the hammock with one hand clutching it for support.

“You promised no pushing.” He mumbled sleepily.

“I’m not pushing.” You assured, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I’m just... politely suggesting that you open up to your best friend, is all.” You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to pick at your nails. 

“Right...how about we do a little switch-a-roo then, hm?” He threw out, shifting around once more in the hammock, eyes piercing yours. “How have you been? With everything. Bree, your mom…” He trailed off, eyes never leaving yours even though you avoided eye contact the moment he started listing issues. “I mean, The Chateau is nothing compared to your beachfront palace in Kooklandia. You gotta miss it sometimes. You’re telling me you never think about goin' home?”

You snarled, shrugging off his statement. “This is my home.” You declared, drifting your eyes upwards to connect with his, the amber glow of the bonfire making his eyes appear more green-toned than blue. “I never wanted to move to Figure Eight in the first place. I didn’t care about the ocean view or the fact that our living room and kitchen didn’t have to be one room anymore.” You explained, drawing shapes into the dirt. “I feel safe here.” You muttered. “I feel safer with you guys...”

He simply hummed and nodded in agreement. “I get that.” He sighed. “I feel the same about my house. I don’t really care that all my shit is there and that I have to sneak back and forth to get what I need. My dad… he makes me hate that house. And I hate myself for being able to hate the house because of him but not being able to hate him.”

“He’s your dad, though. It’s understandable. You feel like you should love him no matter what.”

“...Do you hate your mom?” You paused your drawing in the dirt to peer up at JJ through your lashes, his eyes wide and wondering. The question caused you to feel a way you’d never felt before. It was such a loaded question and even with everything that happened, you figured the answer should be easy but...it wasn’t. Saying that you hated your mother felt like venom on your tongue. Even if you knew you had every right to say that you did.

“No.” You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears. “But, it’s like, I don’t love her either. I just…don’t recognize her anymore. In my eyes, she’s not my mother. But in my heart, she is and always will be. And I hate that.”

The two of you fell into silence after that, the only sound being cicadas and crickets. You directed your gaze up to the sky, counting the stars and silently acknowledging constellations while JJ kicked one leg out to swing the hammock gently as he stared up as well.

You figured the conversation ended there. It was getting late and you’d scored a babysitting gig for tomorrow that was paying good money. So, you figured heading to bed now was ideal because being late wasn't. You sighed, hands slapping your knees as you stood up with a groan, stretching as JJ’s eyes drifted to your frame.

“Well, I think my social battery has officially died.” You yawned, stepping closer to the blonde to ruffle his fluffy head of hair. “Night, blond-” You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence before JJ’s hand was wrapping itself around your wrist, pulling you down until your faces were just centimeters apart, him taking the opportunity to connect your lips with his, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck.

Your eyes went impossibly wide as the blonde pressed his lips to yours firmly, his eyes closed blissfully. A normal, friendly reaction would be to push him away, to say that you shouldn’t be doing this. But the way he was kissing you..

It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.

From the way his fingers dug into your skin to the amount of force he was using to hold you in place.

Something in you suddenly relaxed, allowing you to close your own eyes and move your lips to kiss him back. Your lips moved in perfect sync with his for the moment. But you figured it would be nothing but. This was JJ, your best friend. He knew you like the back of his-

Oh. Oh, God. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing JJ. 

You pulled back so fast you nearly stumbled over your own feet, head whipping around in panic to find Kie and Pope still engulfed in their own conversation before turning back to the starstruck blonde in front you. His hair was messy and his lips were swollen with a deep shade of red blooming within the lower one. His own blue eyes were wide but you didn’t know for what reason. 

You just looked at each other with an unknown expression. Terror? Confusion?

Neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, panting in panic. Your heart was beating wildly out of your chest prompting you to adjust the neckline of your top away from your throat, the material suddenly feeling constricting.

You didn’t know what else to do so you did the only thing you could do.

Swallowing harshly and touching your aching, wet lips, you swiftly walked off in the direction of The Chateau. The last thing you heard was JJ call out your name one, heart aching time before the door of The Chateau closed behind you.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @liability28 @rivaiken @sophiahristov @rafxcameronss @ldrvinyl @purplerose291 @boo22sstuff @heartsforandrewgarfield @coolgirl458 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @jujubeaz @ellobruv @yourmumstoy (striked means i'm unable to tag you!)

©loveharlow.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #svn #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #obx jj #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank angst #rudy pankow x reader #rudy outer banks #Spotify

[rifualk]

On Mental Health and Cosmic Embarrassment

I don't usually make a post in the aftermath of one of my spirals, so I bet most people see some of the vent posts I make, and assume I am just off my meds or something. I am on them but I might not be on the right ones. This is a thing that happens to me sometimes. I have psychotic episodes, where it feels like the things I am saying are completely inconsequential and I genuinely believe no one cares what I'm saying or, worst of all, that it cannot scare anyone that cares about me. I get too tired to fight my intrusive thoughts and I just ride them out. Most of my thoughts are not ones I enjoy having. I have trouble parsing what is real sometimes. For most of my life, out of a kind of primal shame and terror of being perceived or judged, I beat myself into believing that I just roleplayed as a crazy person online because I wanted attention for it, but it finally clicked for me at some point in my 20s that I was, and am, genuinely very mentally ill, maybe in ways that make me not-entirely-functional in the culture I inhabit. Also, I want attention for it.

Life is very embarrassing. I think embarrassment, shame, et al. is probably the most cosmic feeling of them all, because being embarrassed, for me anyway, leads invariably to my OCD extrapolating the embarrassment, no matter how slight, into its natural extreme, becoming a full-blown existential meltdown and often manifesting in some self-punishment. Or a lot of self-punishment. Instead of saying "everyone wants attention, it's not a big deal", my brain will overwhelm me with shame and make me vow to be quieter about the whole thing next time. Good emotions are meant to be expressed, I tell myself, and Bad ones are not. I think it's very unhealthy for people to not express their negative emotions openly. Or maybe I'm psychotic. I mean, I am psychotic. But maybe right now, too.

Ultimately this feeling peaks with the realization - again - that I'm a eukaryote. I live on a spinning ball of stardust in the aftermath of what had to have been a colossal disaster and waste of time. But it happened, and so now there's a bunch of stuff floating around, and some of that stuff started moving for reasons I don't personally understand and the implications of which scare me. And the moving stuff that moved faster got to stay moving longer. And so a chain reaction escalated, and eventually there were very large moving things whose survival adaptations had evolved in such a way that they could conceptualize and communicate complex information about the world around them, but they were also able to conceptualize themselves. This gave them a lot of grief. They wanted very badly for there to be an answer to why they were able to do that. Surely it served some purpose. But we never found one, and here we are.

I don't have a god to turn to. I have tried - earnestly, sincerely, and desperately - to reach out; I never hear back. I don't want to be an atheist, it's heartbreaking. Honestly. I want someone to be up there, or out there. Knowing there isn't, is just... cruel. It's horrifying and it wrenches my heart. Look at us, look how much we're suffering, where the fuck did you go, what the fuck is your problem? Help us!

In spite of everything, I am still not sure what I believe.

Don't you ever just cry about the world? Like, broadly? Don't you ever just have to take off your glasses and wipe the brine from them because you caught a glimpse of what people, as a species, could be capable of? And I get angry at myself, too. What am I doing about it? What even can I do? I can barely hold down a job. I am barely an adult. I am often mired in this feeling. It permeates everything. I'm living in a tragedy - not just my own, but millions and millions of others'. This is a nightmare. It's a nightmare and I'm an embarrassment, and my brain doesn't work right, and I'm living in a terrible reality that is shared by everyone, and yet somehow equally isolating and alienating to all of us. Does it have to be that way? Aren't we all lonely?

When I am spiraling I really do think that the end is near, either for me, or for everyone, or for both. To be fair, my confidence about humanity's future is not promising even when I am at my most sane. But in this kind of emotional place, the stakes are too high for me to care that what I say might come off as upsetting. It is completely overwhelming. I see my life up to this point, and I see how long I've been alive and realize I'm very Not Normal and I look and sound different than everyone around me and I'm an embarrassment. It's embarrassing to exist. It's embarrassing to be transgender, too. It's really, really embarrassing to be mentally ill and fully aware of it all the time. It's shameful. I am ashamed of how my family likely sees me. How my peers see me. I'm just a walking disaster. I feel like this bars me from leading a happy life or finding some success in art - It doesn't seem like you're allowed to be quite this much of a problem and "get away with it", does it? There's a bit of social sanitizing at work there - you are only allowed to be a certain level of messed up and if you pass that you're sort of a pariah. I don't think I've ever done anything pariah-worthy, but I can only see things from the inside of my own head, and there's a lot of unwanted noise in here.

I painted this when I lived in Oregon. I don't know how. I could not do art like this again if asked.

I'm not in a good place, generally-speaking. It could be worse - and it was for a long time- but it's still just not great. There are two reasons for this. One is that I'm very homesick. The other is that I found - and subsequently lost - my twin. But I only want to talk about the first reason right now - I grew attached to the Pacific Northwest in a way I've never really grown attached to any other place. It had a quality that exists nowhere else. It resonated with me immediately and I knew right away from the moment I first set foot there that it was my home. I grew to be a part of it, and it's the only place I felt I somewhat-belonged... I have been away from Oregon for 2 whole years as of next month. I feel like I'm a fish out of water, or a sapling in the wrong soil. I can't and won't say that the place I live currently is a bad place, but it isn't my place, and the disconnect has been maybe the nastiest shock to my system in all my life. Finding the place I loved, and living for over 12 years there, only to be wrenched away from it so suddenly, left a shock on me that I think has yet to surface in my work. I'm excited to see what form it takes when it does. Location is very important to my mental wellbeing, more than I think it is for most people. Maybe I am a plant. It's also very important for my art. I've struggled to find inspiration since I moved here. That said, I've had the very precious opportunity to just work on myself - on my transition, as well as my personal issues. I think I'm getting better, gradually, in some way. I have a job now, at least. So it's not entirely bad. I even grew sunflowers last summer.

Around this time I got banned from twitter, but I don't feel any shame about the reason why because I believe in my message. But it forced me to be a lot less active online for a long time. It also made me lose a lot of support. That's been something I've grappled with a lot these last 2 years - that people really don't like people like me, for reasons that are mostly not our fault. I will likely always be something of an outsider for being who I am now, but I was one before anyway. It's still worth it. I like the person I'm becoming. I feel like only recently did I allow myself to feel this self-love. I was too embarrassed of myself. It took a lot of patience and a lot of de-tangling my self-worth from a lot of trauma. So it's likely I would have needed to go through all of this regardless of where I was.

I still slip up. It's an uphill climb and it's slippery. I like to be transparent about these things. It's a relief - feeling like I need to hide things is my default state and it's lovely to just let go of stuff so I don't need to keep it in my head all the time. I have a lot of hangups still. I get discouraged about my art still - I fear I'll never build myself back up to where I was before, and that there will never be a time when I can really pay the bills with it. Or worse-still, that it just isn't special enough to last. That it isn't remarkable enough to survive after I'm gone. But I think a lot of people who make stuff feel that way, and it's not our fault. There's some relief in that. I'm happy to have even a few people that care about me and my work, and something I've been trying really hard to remember in recent years is to take time to appreciate them. I'm not actually alone. I have a lot of people that love me. I'm not an outsider. I'm very lucky to know the people I do, and I hold a deep regret for all the connections I've let go of because I was just too sick. Deep down I really do wish I could love everyone. I have no ill will towards anyone, not really.

I still don't know what I'm doing. I am just doing my best, I think. I'm really, really tired. I don't want to get any older. I'm scared of the passage of time. My memory is so bad, it feels like time is taken from me without me realizing. I am 33 years old. I do not have 33 years worth of memories. There are huge leaps. Gaps where suddenly I was just older and in more pain. Being adrift in time like this is horrific - one day I will blink, and the present moment may be completely forgotten. It can't go this fast. It just can't. Something has to be wrong. I don't want to die, I don't want to miss out on so much life or be unable to remember it. I don't want to find myself on my deathbed someday way sooner than I think and be unable to string together any kind of coherent thread from my memories. What is it all for? It has to mean something right? Why am I doing anything?

I think I finally understand that love is why. I don't know much more than that. Love is real, and it's the answer. If you find love, don't take it for granted, ever. No love is perfect. Take it with all its flaws. You don't have time to bargain with it. Love like you'll never love again, love like it's your last day alive, love like it will keep you alive forever, because it will. Every year closer to death you get, you will feel the regret of all the times you did not follow your heart. Life is short. I'm finding this out entirely too late. It goes by so fast, and what you have at the end are people and memories of being loved. To be loved is to live forever. It's the thing that connects us to everything else. It's the source and the answer to everything. It makes more sense the older I get. It used to sound cheesy, but I believe it with more sincerity every day.

I kept my last promise to you - there are no new scars on my arms, or bruises on my head or face.

#mental health posting #is there a better tag for that

[dazai-ritualist]

I CANT HELP IT! IM SORRY but we know Al dies in his late 30s early 40s so we can assume he at least got to watch his kids grow up into young adults? What happens when Al dies and reader is “set free?” Only to figure out her children aren’t all who they seem to be? I can see reader’s son possibly becoming a corrupt detective/cop and perhaps her daughter gets into fashion or becoming a teacher? Im not sure what Emi’s future might be but im very curious on your thoughts!

UH OH, SHE’S LOSING HER CONTROL!

[hold up! read the rest of the story first!!]

— and when it seemed like there was no more hope, the monster of the house was slain.

and so, 12 years passed by like a breeze. despite being trapped in this hellhole called home, it was all worth it. for the children, all of it was worth it. noah, just 22 and he’s already a fine policeman, keeping the people in line. and the family treasure, emilia— aged 15, and yet a smart little girl. starting her own little farm outside, from cotton to potatoes, and keeping the family afloat. such wonderful kids, it’s a miracle alastor’s manipulations didn’t rub off on them.

1933, times were tough— the stock market crashed, the bank had failed, and everyone was living off of rations. thankfully, radios gained more popularity, and alastor had profited off of it, making sure his little family was fed with a roof over their heads— he seemed to not only enjoy the newfound wealth, but also the suffering in the streets... suitable for a monster such as himself. and while he worked, you and emilia had used the cotton from her farm to create and sell dresses, your own little effort to the community.

still, that didn’t change the hell that was outside your little safe haven. it wasn’t rare for young men to knock on your door, begging for work. and while your heart felt for them, it couldn’t change what alastor had in mind for them. he’d bring them in— down into the basement. and that very night, suddenly there was meat on the table.

you knew what he did, you weren’t an idiot. he gave you that man’s flesh. but, you did what you had to do. for the children, so that they’re well-nourished. and against your better judgement, you followed through, serving what seemed to be a steak. your husband seemed to love your ultimate submissiveness, one way or the other, you’d give into his ways. although it made your stomach churn, the very thought of eating the poor man, it was hard to live during these times, it was what had to be done.

and, it was why you let your children on a hunting trip with him. “little emi’s first trip! you excited, lil’ sis?” noah laughed, patting his sister on the head. “don’t do that, you’ll mess up my hair!” emilia frowned back. alastor laughed at the two as he held you by the waist, “oh, those two!” he mused, looking back to face you. “we’ll be home in time for dinner, my love. i love you so very much!” he smiled, kissing you all over. you hated whenever he did that— when he acted like he’d done nothing wrong, yet you didn’t fight back. what point was there to it? 15 years, and he’s managed to keep you in this house, there was no more use in fighting back.

“okay. just keep them safe, alastor.” you said as he pressed his nose against your’s. he smiled against your lips and laid onto you one final kiss. “don’t you worry your pretty little head, my dear. i’ll protect them with my life.”

and, that was the last time you saw him.

when your children came home, they looked frightened. “m..momma…” emilia whimpered. “oh, baby, what’s wrong? where’s dad?” you asked, running towards them to make sure they were safe. “…ma…” noah let out. “dad’s dead…” he said, ashamed to look you in the eye. “he’s… dead..?” you asked, dazed. “momma! i-i didn’t mean to!” your daughter cried, pulling you closer to hug. “you didn’t mean to..? emi, what happened?” you pulled your daughter far away enough to see her teary-eyed face.

“…i shot dad…” she said, hiccuping in-between words. your eyes widened at her words. “d-dad was on his knees in the dirt, so i thought he was a deer ‘n i shot him…” she explained, wiping her tears. “momma, i don’t wanna go to jail.” she cried out. “don’t worry, baby. you won’t go to jail. you didn’t mean to…” you kissed her on the forehead.

standing up properly, you looked your son in the eyes, wet as he tried to hold his tears back. “baby, i need you to show me where dad is, i’ll take care of it.” you said. “y-yeah, ok, momma… i’ll take you there…” he nodded his head. “emi, go prepare dinner while i’m gone. momma will take care of this mess.” you told her as she nodded her head.

when you arrived, alastor’s body was mangled beyond recognition, the only way you knew it was him was by the clothes he wore— it must have been someone’s hunting dogs, that means it’s possible somebody already discovered the body, and is headed to the police station. the only possible reason alastor could have been here and on his knees, as emilia said, must have been to dispose of a body. so, the ground beneath you must have a corpse. only the lord knows how many bodies alastor could’ve hidden here. but then, you had an idea.

but, first, you had to check. you dug the dirt below alastor’s body. and lo and behold, was the corpse of noah’s friend-turned-enemy, kenneth. “d…did dad kill ken..?” noah asked, afraid of the answer. “i suppose he did.” you said, frowning over your own answer. did the years truly turn you as heartless as him..? “now, noah… if you don’t want your sister to be locked away in a correctional facility, you’ll help me. understand?” you asked, speaking for the first time with a strict tone. “y-yes, momma…” he said as he pushed back in about 3 feet of dirt. he helped you lower his father’s mangled corpse into the grave, pushing back the remaining 3 feet of dirt.

“now, dear… i need you to head back to your station and see if any hunters reported a corpse in the forest, okay? and, make sure those police dogs you have sniff this area, so that they can find dad…” you said to him, explaining your plan. “yeah, okay, momma… i don’t want little emi going to jail…” he said. this was wrong, but it was to protect your family. for the children, right? you won’t let alastor ruin the family even in his death. if those cops found out that emilia killed alastor, they’d try to punish her for all of his crimes as well.

and with that, you returned home. and when noah came back, he returned triumphant. “they bought it, momma. don’t you worry, emi. no cops are gonna take you away. if they try, i’ll kill ‘em” he assured her, hugging his little sister as the weight on her shoulders fell.

this is good, right? even though it resulted in alastor’s death, all three of you are free from his manipulations. and, yes, you framed an innocent hunter— but, it was to protect the family. after all, you raised such wonderful kids, they don’t deserve to go to jail. they’re so kind, they’d dirty their hands for each other. and… that’s a good thing, isn’t it? they’re loyal to their family.

but then, the guilt finally started to settle in.

and it weighed on your shoulders when they finally lowered alastor’s casket into the ground.

1891 — 1933

loving husband and father

he will be missed by all who knew him

the monster was finally gone.

#the corruption is supposed to be subtext 😣😣 #btw im totes willing to write another part when reader finally dies n sees my pookie in hell 💞💞💞 #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

[jazzyblusnowflake]

OMG hi…I really like your art and was wondering if you wanna be mutuals??????????? Also tell me about your MD ships :3c

honey we are dating- .....okay yknow what- HI PRETTY & TALENTED LADY- yess i will absolutely love toooo 🙈💕💕💕💕💕

also lets see uhhh okay this is an excuse for me to just... expload-

keep in mind not every ship is meant for all of you so dont badger me about stuff that ISNT CANON or YOU DONT SHIP. contrary to whatever you believe, when somone posts about THEIR ships, nobody wants to hear about you NOT shipping it on THAT EXACT post.

hang in there, this gon be a long one >:p

First off we are starting strong with Nuzi- Biscuitbites obviously thats a given- these two just have too much to be said about why and how they make eachother the best version of eachother, whether they ever became canon or not- they fit like puzzle pieces- they lessen eachothers negative traits by being their for eachother.

next is Vuzi- Violentviolet, they are my favorite kind of enemies to lovers 😔 but its also tragic smh. kinda pissed off at how V always does something good in Uzis favor only when she is LITERALLY PASSED OUT- either in the camp ep on the bus or in Alices lab. like damn ofFUCKINGcourse Uzi wouldnt know she cares about her 😭😭😭

envuzi- Violentbitingbiscuits, i love these goobers with all my heart- they deserve the best 😔💕💕💕💕

envy - [does this poor ship just NOT have an exclusive FINDABLE tag name??? im calling them GoldenMemories...], i like to think that if they were in the manor still, and nothing bad had ever happened, these two would be comforting eachother in the healthiest way possible. V needs someone like N and N is just adorable like that uwu

Next we have JxTessa/Jessa- [calling them Fancyblades cuz why not-] J deserves some closure for the shit shes gone through smhhh 😔, its a tragic yuri of J loving and wanting something she probably already accepted she couldnt have, and even then she gotta deal with Ns ass being the favorite one regardless of how hard she tries to be perfect... sighhh i wanna imagine them in a future where Tessa was spared as the only human and J could save her 😭😭😭😭 Tessa might have loved doing mechanical stuff or wore black to hide grease/oil stains on her clothes from her parents and wore gloves to hide her oily stained hands- i want her to have a scene of wiring drones back to life and saving them and saying something like "hey there, you made it! dont worry, ill take care of you, youre my friend now :3" or something //dies//, also before anyone says it- even if Tessa was a teen in the flashbacks- romance is not exclusive to ADULTS, teens can love eachother without having sexual stuff involved. no she was not their MOTHER figure, she was their FRIEND who liked to fix robots for herself to not be alone in a house where her own parents literally chain her up as punishment. i dont even know why im arguing about this, people headcanon or make aus about characters NOT being dead all the time and if Tessa was alive for as long as J thought she was, Tessa would have been a perfectly fine adult either way. so counting this, yes shes canonically considered an adult when Cyn tries to imitate an adult humans body 🙄 makes as much sense as everything else i guess-

next ones i got is NorixYeva/Neva- Solverlilies- i just think theyre neat 😭😭😭 and once again, like everything else in this franchise- they are tragic yuris 😔 damn liam im finding a pattern over here 🤨 anyway, i like to think they either got closer in the lab experimentations or were already close when they were working as WDs in the campsite area for the humans. obviously canonically they were probably straight or just not into eachother romantically- [Nori either u have the worst taste men or Khan just fucking lost it after you died-] but also on the other handddd.... they have 2 hands and they are robots, i want them to kiss like two barbie dolls and im gonna make them do just that-

DollxLizzy/Dizzy- Bloodypink, wost fucking ship names ever, i cant find shit on them with these tags and it makes me angry >:/ at this point 2/3s of my ships are just tragic yuris smh, Doll did not deserve any of the things handed to her, even if she went about doing some things the wrong way i wish Lizzy didnt just abandon her- but then again, Doll did kinda abuse Lizzys trust and Lizzy got scared of being close to a serial murderer so.... morality calls this a draw? 😭 im crying... i wish someone was there to help Doll... sigh... i like to think Lizzy would have waited for Doll to just come back at some point... oh well, thats why AUs exist :"3 //sobs in the corner//

DollxUzi/Dollzi- Bloodybats, this ship is so underrated to me... they could have been... so much more. but why weren't they? did Yeva abandon ever getting close to Uzi when she was a kid after Nori died? did Uzi and Doll just never play around together as kids when their mothers were so close? were they ever close and something went wrong as they grew older? at worst they could have been like sisters together, and at best maybe more than friends. i just dont know what happened here, like Yeva could have tried to keep an eye on Uzi, maybe Uzi could have found Dolls powers so cool before having them too- i dont know theres literally tons of possibilities- but if Doll deserved to be saved or cared for by anyone, at least one of them should have been Uzi... sigh.

ThadxV- Killingblonde, yall this is... the cutest shit... ever???? like from here on out we kinda go into the more or less crackship territory but these two are adorable- Dumbass yet wholesome jock boy that just wants to keep his queen happy 😔👌👌👌 He and Uzi would have so much to talk about on "crushing on literal murder bots that stabbed and almost ate us" its literally love at first stab smhhh 😫💕

ThadxSam- Smokyjock ???? for some fucking reason??? i dont know what my brain did here man- i just like the trope of someone getting under Thads skin- like pair up the healthy sports loving gym boy with the lazy but wholesome dumbass that does drugs or is always just sleep deprived and Thad is always trying to just... take care of his ass and make him take care of himself but he just WONT SMHHH-

okay some more or less crack ships down here:

ThadxN: it speaks for itself. its too adorable and youll go blind from the light of wholesomeness-

ThadxNxUzi: Uzi will die here from the overwhelming wholesomeness... oh bonus if its just a 4s polycule of ThadxNxUzixV i mean i know im pushing my luck but.... random crackships go brr- V and Uzi will complain but love their dumbass golden puppy partners-

ThadxUzi: i think they could have been close and Thad caring about her as a childhood friend turned crush sounds just too cute for me 😔

LizzyxUzi: another random ass rivals to lovers or some shit idk what this is, Lizzy would pay Uzi to kiss the fuck out of her i dont make the rules-

ThadxLizzy: in some cases where they are NOT headcanoned as siblings or cousins, i think they have a good energy of wholesome jock bf and girly queen cheerleader lol, Thad is just a good bf eitherway-

DollxUzixLizzy: the gals would not leave a single second of silence for the small gremlin i swear to God- [Uzi is gay as FUCK for her gfs, absolute girloser unit with her gorgeous but crazy gfs]

okay for the end i have some characters that arent ships but i wish they could have become closer as friends or work out their issues...

J and N- too much abuse and toxicity here, i wish they could talk together more and see they have a lot of things in common- maybe a full line of dialogue from J without threatning N in every sense of the manner would be nice for a change =_=

Doll and V- again, a bit morally ambiguous to ship a character with the murderer of your family, esp when said murderer hasnt expressed regret lmao, but i wish they could at least be friends... Dolls disdain for the murder drones pushed her to end up the way she did. maybe if she didnt do it alone she would have been alive by now. so i like to think what would have happened if she and V could have made up- not necessarily Doll forgiving her- but at least having the space to grow and understand why they did they things that happened.

Cyn and literally ANYONE- i want the solver to be SEPARATE from Cyn- i wish Cyn would have still existed somewhere down there and was savable- i wish this poor child AI had a happy ending to her by connecting with the others as ACTUAL siblings... goddamnit 😔

aaaand thats it for this fine ass day 🫡 yall are welcome to ask about any of these- boy the tags are gonna be.... a lot.

#snowballflo #snow rambles #murder drones #uzi doorman #tessa james elliot #nuzi #biscuitbites #vuzi #violetviolence #envuzi #violentbitingbiscuits #jessa #j x tessa #envy murder drones #envy #n x v #solverlilies #bloodypink #dollzi #bloodybats #dizzy murder drones #killingblonde

[ingravinoveritas]

Hello, lovely followers. I was traveling for work again in the second half of this past week, but I'm now home and looking forward to answering all of your Asks that I've been seeing in my inbox. I first wanted to reflect a little bit, however, because this trip was also a personal one for me.

This week's travels took me to Anaheim, California, which is where Disneyland is (I think I actually must've not been far from where David and Georgia just were, funnily enough, as my hotel was right by the park). It wasn't my first trip to Anaheim, though. The last time I was there was when I was 11 years old, on summer vacation with my dad in California while my mom was on a tour in Italy at the same time. As you'd expect, my dad wanted to take me to Disneyland...but I was too scared and overwhelmed, and we only ever got as far as the parking lot. The gates were visible, and I remember how they loomed, that feeling of something foreboding washing over me...but rather than excitement, my tiny body was filled with dread. I mentioned this while in conversation with one of the hotel employees during my stay, and he said, "What kind of kid doesn't want to go to Disney?"

What kind of a kid. Well, an autistic kid. A kid who was constantly anxious, emotional, and terrified of sensory overload. A kid who hated crowds and noise and rides. A kid who didn't travel well to begin with, because she was afraid of new places, anything unfamiliar, anything that wasn't safe and home.

A kid who was me.

Even before this, there were so many ways that the world had said "This is not for you." But still, there was something different about it happening there, in the bright California sunshine. My favorite Disney princess as a kid was always Belle, because she also loved to read and didn't fit in with the people around her. Belle connected more with books and animals than people, and that made me connect with her. But Belle was also beautiful (as Disney princesses tend to be), and thanks to the bullying from my peers, I was very aware that was something I was not. So no matter how much I wanted to be Belle, there was no way I could ever be a Disney princess.

This is not for you.

Thinking about all of this during my trip made me feel so many things, but I was most surprised to find myself feeling a sense of nostalgia in particular, a longing for the child I was, who I wish I could comfort. It also made me feel such sadness for that child and anyone else who finds themselves in a situation or a place where the world thinks they should be happy, but they're not. And there are few things more difficult than feeling that way in (of all places) "the happiest place on Earth."

I didn't end up going to Disney on this trip, even though I had a little bit of time to do so. It's still not for me, but the difference now is that I am okay with that. That need to be the kid who wants to visit Disney--the "good" child, the child who isn't "broken"--has gone away, and I'm more than happy being adult me, and finding a place that fits me, instead of the other way around.

And that was my nostalgia trip, in quite the literal sense of the phrase. I have a picture or two to share in another post, so stay tuned for that as well...

#personal post #autism #disneyland #of course this happens during World Autism Month #so my emotions were a little all over the place #reflections #reflections from the road #childhood #thoughts #nostalgia #thank you all you lovely people for being here #<3

[chiriwritesstuff]

Hometown Glory; 1. Back to the Old House

Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: M

Chapter Summary: Glory and Frankie, two best friends from a small town in Texas, find themselves in different places as adults. They haven't spoken in years, yet find themselves being drawn back home, searching for... something they can't quite explain. Will they be able to find their purpose back to where it all began?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Strong language, Frankie is going through it, Someone decides it's a good idea to dip in the middle of the night, Sexism in the workplace, Unstable family dynamics.

Word Count: 8k

1998 (16 years old)

It's a school night on a random Monday, and you're perched cross-legged in a boy's room, a bowl of popcorn resting precariously on your lap. With a mischievous grin, you snatch the remote control from said boy, clicking it over to ABC as he groans in annoyance.

"Hey! What the hell!" he grumbles in annoyance, "Don't you know it's rude to just take a man's remote?"

"It's my night, remember?" you remind him playfully. "There's a new episode of Ally McBeal, and I'm dying to find out what happened between Ally and Billy."

"Gross. Not the biggest fan of that girly romance shit-" he drawls from above, his arm snaking around your shoulder as he reaches for a handful of popcorn. "I would rather watch something cool, like that 70s show. At least it's funny."

You roll your eyes at his protest, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Come on, Frankie, let's be real here. We both know the only reason you want to watch it is because you have a huge crush on Jackie," you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But remember, we made a deal, Frankie baby. Mondays are my night!"

Frankie flops back onto his bed, his arms crossed over his chest in a mock pout. "Fine, but I reserve the right to complain the entire time," he declares, a faint smile on his lips. "I mean, at least Ally is kinda hot-"

You playfully toss a piece of popcorn at your best friend. "Anyway, remember when we had to write that paper in Mrs. Miller's class? About what we wanted to be when we grew up?" You lean in closer, your eyes fixed on Calista Flockhart as she flirts with Billy on the screen. "Well, I wrote that I wanted to be just like Ally," you share, taking a sip of Pepsi.

"What, like a lawyer?"

"No, like an actress. Of course like a lawyer!" you exclaim. "I mean, I love to argue-"

"Not correcting you there-"

"... and, it's like, so grown up, right? She looks like someone who has her shit together, her lack of love life notwithstanding, but still. I can see myself doing that!"

Frankie groans as he props himself up on his elbows, his warm breath tickling your ear. "I can totally see you doing that," he says with a chuckle, his voice close to your ear. "But hey, you're good at everything you set your mind to, Glo."

"Aw, Frankie... is that a compliment I hear? maybe I should check outside and see if any pigs are flying-"

"Very funny," he scoffs, joining you on the floor and reaching for the bowl of popcorn. "You know you're smart as hell, so I don't doubt that you can do it."

"What about you?" you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully.

"What about me?" he responds, his shoulder bumping against yours. "What do I want to be when I grow up? That's easy. I want to be a pilot."

"So, like... the military, then? Flying Black Hawks and getting everyone to safety? I always knew you had a hero complex," you tease, nudging him again.

Frankie grins, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Yeah, something like that," he says, his voice full of wonder. "I've always wanted to serve my country, you know? And being a pilot in the military seems like the perfect way to do it. Plus, I get to carry a gun," he adds with a smirk. "Chicks dig that, you know?"

"Chicks? Frankie, I love you, but for the love of everything holy, please don't refer to women as "chicks", it's degrading-"

"Some chicks like to be degraded," he quips, cocking his head. "At least that's what the guys say in the locker room."

"Not me though," you muse, resting your head on his shoulder as he settles himself against you more, placing his arm around your shoulder as Ally and Billy kiss on screen. "I guess that makes me not like other girls, huh?"

You feel the slight rumble of his chest as he chuckles.

You swear you feel the ghost of his lips on your temple.

Frankie leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "No, Glory," he whispers. "You're so much more than most girls."

16 years later.

"Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong."

"No, you didn't," you retort firmly, eyeing the hefty stack of papers across from you, addressing the group of men- the partners and board members of the firm you decided to spend the last ten years of your life at seated before you. Settling back into the plush leather chair, you cross your legs with an air of confidence. "While I appreciate your acknowledgment of my ten years of hard work and the countless cases won," you pause for emphasis, casually inspecting your nails before meeting their gaze head-on, "...if it weren't for a stupid technicality, I'd be hailed as the first female lawyer in the entire state of New York with a flawless record, right?"

"Indeed, we recognize your almost-stellar track record," Nigel, the lead partner of your firm continues, glossing over your achievements like you expected, chuckling as he adjusts his suit collar. "That's precisely why we believe it's the perfect time to bring you on as a junior partner. We think you're ready."

"Junior Partner?" you echo, incredulous, your tone laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "After all these years of fighting tooth and nail against men who were promoted with far less experience, after winning case after case and saving these assholes millions of dollars in alimony payments, I'm still only good enough to become a Junior Partner? Please. Please tell me you're joking." You lean forward, fixing them with a pointed stare, the intensity of your gaze daring them to justify their belated recognition.

The ten men in question, a mix of balding, beady-eyed partners and sharply dressed greying board members shift uncomfortably in their seats. The rustle of their tailored Armani suits rubbing against one another fills the room with a grating sound akin to nails on a chalkboard.

"It took me a decade to even get offered Junior Partner. How many more years until I'm considered for a full Partnership? Another decade?" you ask, your impatience seeping into each word.

"Is there something amiss?" another member of the board interjects, gesturing towards the stack of papers on the table once more. "We don't often extend promotions like this, especially to someone as young as yourself... or any woman, for that matter," he adds with a cough, a smirk playing on his lips as if he's cracked a clever joke. "Most would consider it a gift, wouldn't you agree?"

"I appreciate the offer, truly," you interject, "but I believe my worth exceeds what you're offering." Each word resonates with a sense of determination, a testament to the challenges you've overcome and the achievements you've earned in your career.

With a flick of your wrist, you push the stack of papers back across the conference table, the pages dancing in the air as the men across from you watch in disbelief. The gravity of your decision hangs heavy in the room. "I'm done," you announce firmly, the weight of your words echoing in the silence that follows.

The room fills with gasps as another suit interjects, his face flushed with anger. "I beg your pardon?!" he exclaims. "This isn't a negotiation, and it's a fair offer for someone of your talents," he spits.

You fix him with a steely gaze. "Tell me, Bill-" you retort sharply, "who's the most sought-after associate in this firm? Why do I have gold-digging socialites, cheating tech bros, and trigger-happy celebrities clamoring for a meeting with me at the front desk? Whose face is it on the news when the courts decide to rule in our favor? Certainly, it isn't any of you, that's for damn sure."

Gone is the girl from the small town off the outskirts of Austin, Texas- a former homecoming queen slash magna cum laude loved and cherished by a town that seemed so minuscule compared to the vastness and hunger of your ambition.

You were both a dreamer and a doer, tirelessly working and amassing scholarship after scholarship, grant after grant. Your sights were set on one school only: Yale. You believed that if you couldn't make it there from the start, settling for anything less wasn't an option.

"I'm gonna be like that when I grow up," you declared, flopping onto the lumpy couch as reruns of Law and Order SVU played in the background. Your Nana, her tight, white curls peeking out from the worn brown fabric of her La-Z-Boy, glanced at you with mild curiosity.

"Be like what?" she would reply absentmindedly, her voice raspy from the years of Misty's holding constant residence at the corner of her lips. "Like an actor? Like Mariska? Did you know she's the daughter of Jayne Mansfield?"

"No, like a Lawyer," you would tease, your eyes locked onto Stephanie March as she takes the stand, her sneer as icy as the blonde of her pin-straight hair, her voice strong and confident as she calmly verbally eviscerates yet another rapist, this time one of the shaky-ijustwantedtosmellher-variety, shaking like a leaf as they undergo cross-examination. "She's so fucking cool," you would whisper to yourself, the loud chuckle-cough-chuckle of your Nana as she peers at you from the corner of her eye.

"... but you're such a sweet girl!" she would retort, "how are you gonna win the case when you're so damn nice all the time? those suits would eat you alive, believe you me!"

Your voice rises steadily, like a crescendo building to a climax, until you're finally shouting. All the hurt and embarrassment you've bottled up explodes, coursing through your veins like an unstable chemical reaction. "The reason we're all still in business is because of me!" you declare, your words punctuated by frustration. "Or should I ask Bill in finance for confirmation? Maybe he's mistaken." You unclench your jaw, feeling the tension in your neck as you reach for your phone. "All those high-profile clients? They're loyal to me. If I leave, they'll follow. Think about that."

As the partners exchange bewildered looks, Nigel's discomfort is palpable as he clears his throat. "But... where will you go?" he stammers. "How do you expect to thrive in this industry without the support of a prestigious firm like ours? Besides, no one just turns their nose up at a salary increase of a hundred thousand dollars-"

"Okay, got it. So this isn't a negotiation, and there's no room for reconsideration?" You glance around the room, meeting each of their downturned gazes. Leaning back in your chair, a smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you hold their gaze.

"Oh, don't worry about me," you retort, rolling your eyes slightly. "You don't have to concern yourselves with my well-being. After all, you haven't given a damn about it throughout my entire career here, have you?"

A ripple of anxious laughter echoes through the room, mingled with the partners' disbelief at your audacity. "And just where do you plan to go?" Nigel presses.

With a knowing smile, you rise from your seat, gathering your belongings with a newfound sense of purpose. "Back to where I belong, I suppose," you declare. "Home."

You give the group of men one last nod, your expression firm. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think this is going to work out," you say, your tone resolute. "And frankly, I've had enough of playing by your rules."

With a final flick of your hair, pin-straight and glossy like Stephanie, you stride out of the conference room, leaving behind the stifling atmosphere of the sleazy-suited assholes, their mouths agape, completely stunned. As the door clicks shut, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you, like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

Good fucking riddance, you think to yourself, walking past your colleagues, their heads bobbing up curiously from their cubicles as they watch you march away. You laugh to yourself at the sight of it, your head held high in defiance. Today marks the beginning of a new journey, one where you refuse to let others dictate your worth or your future.

Back in your corner office, tucked away at the back of the building- a spot they seemed to think was where you belonged, far away from the big boys club, you're surrounded by the familiar trappings of your professional life. The cardboard box on your desk awaits its contents – the remnants of a career spent in a firm that never fully appreciated your efforts, despite your unwavering dedication and the millions of dollars earned in your wake.

Shaking off the sting of humiliation and blinking back the tears of frustration threatening to spill, you begin the task of packing up your belongings. Your framed Juris Doctor is tossed in haphazardly, followed by a flurry of other items scattered across the surface of the box. Three framed photos: two girls, with wide smiles and pigtails, an old woman standing on the porch of a decaying home, and a group of like-looking women, the bright smiles and the promise of the endless possibility of the future in their eyes. Gone is the meticulously styled hair, now hastily tied up in a messy bun as you delve into the depths of your desk drawer. You pull out items in a flurry, tossing them into the box until your fingers come across something unfamiliar, hidden at the very back of the drawer.

Your fingers brush against something soft, and you pull out a faded friendship bracelet. Its beads are strung together to spell out a name you haven't seen in years. The memories flood back, threatening to overwhelm you as you stare at the name engraved on the bracelet.

F-R-A-N-

In an instant, you're transported back to a moment etched deep in the recesses of your mind: small hands trembling as they offer the bracelet to yours, the earnest gaze of a young boy not much taller than you. A tentative smile graces his lips as he extends the friendship offering. "You gave me yours, so I'm giving you mine... that means we're friends, right?"

You accept the bracelet with shaky hands, feeling a warmth spread through you. You smile back at the boy in front of you, his smile widening to match yours. "Right. Best friends!"

A pang of regret washes over you, mingling with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia for the friendship that once meant so much to you. With a heavy heart, you carefully place the bracelet into the box, a silent reminder of the past you've left behind.

Two Weeks later (somewhere in between New York and Texas)

"Okay, let me get this straight. They finally offer you a promotion, and that's when you decide it's the perfect time to quit? Seriously, Glory, please explain that logic to me," your sister's voice crackles through the car speakers as you navigate down the coast, taking another sip of your coffee to steel yourself for the conversation. "I'm begging you, please make it make sense. If management told me I needed to shake my ass to get a wage increase, I would say when and where. Surely, a hundred thousand dollars is a decent offer-"

"Yeah, they dangled a hundred thousand dollar salary bump in front of me, but it's not just about the money," you reply, frustration evident in your voice. "They were going to make me a Junior Partner. Junior. It's like they're saying, 'Hey Glory, you're good, but you're not quite good enough to sit at the big kids' table yet. Maybe in another decade or two, you'll get there.'"

"So what's the plan, then? You're just gonna pack up your office, leave your fancy Upper East Side condo behind, toss your shit in a U-Haul, and hightail it back to Nowheresville, USA? You're seriously going to start your firm in a place you swore up and down and to the heavens above that you'd never return to?" Your sister's incredulous voice echoes through the phone as you navigate the winding roads back to your hometown. "As much as the kids and I would love for you to finally be around, shouldn't you be aiming a bit higher than Fredericksburg? There's nothing here-"

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sharp pain making you wince as the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. Relax, you tell yourself. She's right. You should be aiming higher.

"And don't even get me started on that rundown old house that Nana used to live in. Seriously, Glo, you're going to live in that dump? I wouldn't touch that place with a ten-foot pole, let alone live in it. It's a fucking money pit! You'll lose more money than what it's worth!" she snarks, chuckling to herself. "I know that it was all fun and games, talking about how you were gonna fix up that place, make it your forever home, but that was when we were kids! That place barely has a functioning roof!"

"Well, you must read minds, then." you retort dryly. "Sister, I think that you should think about becoming a psychic, because how did you know?" you sing-song back. "Besides, don't you have a guest room in that place of yours? I remember you asking me very nicely to help you out with the reno you did a few years back as a wedding gift, doesn't that mean that the room is mine if I ever needed it?"

There's a weird, awkward silence that suddenly fills the cab of the U-Haul, and you swear you can hear the gears turning in your sister's brain as she processes the implications of your words, holding your breath as you can feel the wrath that is sure to follow next. You appreciate how predictable your sister always was, knowing damn well that if you had told her that you were actually telling her the truth about your plans on returning home, she would try with every fiber of her being to convince you not to.

"There's nothing here for you, Glory. Nothing but heartbreak and the skeletons that have gathered dust in your bedroom closet. You've always been better than this little old town..." You remember her drunkenly telling you over FaceTime as you down your third glass of Pinot Grigio, your eyes fixed on the blue light radiating from the screen of your MacBook.

Congratulations, the email read. The buyer has accepted your terms, and is expected to move in shortly-

"No, Glo-" she starts.

"The condo sold for over market value-" you offer, a thinly-veiled attempt to try to reason with her.

"Wait. Are you fucking telling me that you're in a U-Haul driving back home? and you're only telling me this now when I haven't even had time to clean out the guest room?! You know how I get when things are left to the last minute-"

"Relax, I'm not going to crash at your house, not when Andrew doesn't know, I've already booked a month at the Hyatt in Austin while I square away the final plans for the house. Think of it this way, if you ever need a place to stay after another one of your husband's benders, you could always sneak away to the hotel room, now that I'll finally be close by. Plus, Hank told me that there's a vacant storefront on Main Street, It's a perfect spot to open the firm-"

"It's just..." Your sister's voice trails off, her chuckle sounding forced. "You always seem to have impeccable timing." There's an odd tension in her tone, a hint of something unsaid lingering between you.

"Impeccable timing, huh?" you prod, sensing there's more to her words than she's letting on.

But before you can dig deeper, she interrupts with a hurried excuse. "Hey, I'd love to chat more, but I've got to run. We'll catch up later, okay? Call me when you get to the hotel, we can grab lunch or something with the kids-"

"Hey, what did you mean about impeccable timing?" you press curiously.

"I gotta go love you byeeee-" she says hurriedly, cutting the phone call.

You're left staring at your phone, a gnawing sense of confusion settling in your gut. Something about her sudden evasiveness doesn't sit right with you, but you push it aside for now, focusing on the road ahead as you continue your journey back home. "Love you too, I guess."

You continue to drive throughout the night, the 26 or so hours that the GPS has estimated your trip to be, refusing to stop for anything other than gas and the occasional bathroom pit stop, grabbing yourself a Buc-ees t-shirt for shits and giggles to commemorate your arrival, breathing a sigh of relief as you eye the “Welcome to Texas!” Sign out in the distance, its surface illuminated by the purple skies of early morning.

"Not much longer," you reassure yourself as you nibble on a sad-looking fruit bowl and sip lukewarm water in the Buc-ee's parking lot. Between bites, you check the time on your phone, swiping away the occasional concerned email from your former associates at the firm.

You raise your phone, capturing the Buc-ee's sign in the distance with your camera app. The empty parking lot reflects the loneliness that has become all too familiar in your adult life.

It's not like I meant for it to be this way, you muse silently, drafting a caption for the photo. "Homeward bound, just a few more hours!" You type out as you hit upload, sharing the moment on your Instagram feed.

As you enter the city limits of the small town you once called home on the way to the Hyatt, you can’t help the wave of nostalgia that suddenly washes over you. You can't help but smile as you pass by familiar landmarks – the public library where you would spend countless hours buried in books, the little Italian place with your favorite lasagna, still in the corner where all of the birthday dinners would be held, the bustling mall, still bursting at the seams with teenagers and young families alike, a place where you and your best friend used to gossip about boys and clothes and how much you hated Mr. Frankel constantly staring at your tits over scoops and cones of ice cream, the shrillness of your combined laughter ringing throughout your ears.

Ex-best friend, you remind yourself bitterly, your knuckles turning white as you clutch the steering wheel. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the one person you would never think would betray you ending up with the guy you once harbored feelings for. The guy. They probably have a picture-perfect life now, living in some military town with a gaggle of kids, the sound of their laughter echoing in your mind like a haunting melody.

As you drive through the familiar streets of your hometown, memories of you and him start to slowly flood back into your consciousness – lazy afternoons spent together, whispered secrets shared under the shade of a tree. But now, those memories are tainted with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of what once was and what could have been.

You can almost see him now, running around the backyard with their children, his laughter mingling with theirs as they play. The image is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, a painful reminder of the love you lost and the friendship that slipped through your fingers.

With a heavy sigh, you tear your gaze away from the fleeting fantasy, focusing instead on the road ahead. It's time to move forward, to let go of the past, and embrace the uncertainty of the future. But as you drive away, a part of you can't help but wonder – what if things had been different?

As you navigate the winding streets, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over you. This may not have been the life you planned, but somehow, returning to your roots feels like coming home in more ways than one.

After a few more hours of driving, you finally pull up to the Hyatt, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs and unload your belongings. The luxurious lobby offers a stark contrast to the worn-out upholstery of your car seat. With a sigh of relief, you drop off your bags in your room before heading back out onto the road.

As you pull up to your Nana's old place, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with apprehension. The once-charming house now stands in complete disrepair, its paint peeling and windows boarded up. Standing outside the weathered front door, you can't help but shake your head.

"Welcome home, Glory," you mutter to yourself, the words carrying both resignation and determination. With a deep breath, you unlock the door and step inside, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Frankie, two weeks before your arrival.

Frankie forgot how fucking hot it was in Texas.

With a heavy sigh, he turns off the ignition of his truck and gazes at the house he hasn't seen in the last few years. The weathered paint job catches his eye, the deep cracks spiderwebbing across the exterior walls. Once-bright white has faded to a tired tan, and a single bright blue shutter still hangs slightly askew from his bedroom window.

"Shit Frankie, do you think your pop is gonna kill me for that?" The voice seeps into his thoughts, unbidden. He shuts his eyes tight, battling against the memories he's long kept buried deep in the recesses of his brain.

His ears catch the familiar sound of tinkering echoing from the depths of the carport beside the house, still cluttered with dismantled shells and rusty car parts. He recognizes the soft grunts of his father as he works on yet another car he decided to fiddle with probably after spotting it abandoned on the roadside.

I've been gone for fifteen years, and yet, it feels like nothing has changed, he muses to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

Frankie lets out a groan as he swings open his car door. His legs feel like lead, knees protesting from the strain of hours spent behind the wheel. He's just made the long haul from his actual home in Florida, leaving behind his daughter and the life he's built there for the last fifteen or so years.

Or tried to, at least.

The notion of divorce loomed over Frankie's thoughts like a persistent shadow, coloring every interaction with his wife. Even in the mundane moments of their daily life, he couldn't shake the feeling of their impending separation. It was as if they were constantly tiptoeing along the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from falling into the abyss of divorce.

He found himself distancing emotionally, a subconscious defense mechanism against the possibility of heartache. Small disagreements turned into major rifts, each argument fueling the belief that their marriage was irreparable. He couldn't help but imagine a life without Chelsea, even as they sat across from each other at the dinner table or shared a quiet moment on the couch.

The weight of his doubts pressed down on him, clouding his perception of their relationship. Frankie had never truly loved his wife; their relationship was born more out of convenience and familiarity than genuine affection. He often wondered if Chelsea sensed his lack of affection, if she felt the absence of passion and connection that should have been the foundation of their marriage.

Guilt gnawed at him, knowing that he had never given Chelsea the love she deserved. He had entered into their marriage with a sense of obligation rather than devotion, and now he was trapped in a cycle of discontent and disillusionment. Divorce had become more than a possibility; it had become a constant companion, lurking in the shadows of their marriage.

Fuck. She never stood a fucking chance.

So, with a heavy heart and a mind full of fucking turmoil, he'd packed up his car and hit the road, effectively abandoning his wife and kid like a fucking coward, driving with no destination in mind until he found himself back in the town where it all began.

Frankie's chest tightens at the memory of Lily's desperate pleas, her small face etched with fear as she begs him not to leave. He had thought he was being discreet, tiptoeing past her room, his rucksack slung across his back. Pausing in the dim light, he takes a long look at his daughter, knowing he might not see her again for some time. "I love you, baby girl," he whispers, his voice barely audible as he gently closes her door, the click echoing in the quiet hallway.

He pushes open the door leading to the garage, grateful that he had the foresight to leave the garage door open earlier in the evening. It was a calculated move, part of his plan to make a quiet exit from this house that never felt like a home. He had thought about his grand escape throughout dinner that night, opting to remain silent as he tuned Chelsea out, her words of her displeasure falling on deaf ears as he nodded in agreement, cutting into his meatloaf as he slouches himself down his chair.

Lousy, lazy husband. Neglectful and absent father. The biggest disappointment and regret of her fucking life. Coward. Fucking Coward.

Ah, there it was.

I bet you wish that it was her, huh? I bet you wish that it was her pussy that you were fucking instead of mine, right Frankie? Chelsea would accuse, her hand motioning for him to pass over the mashed potatoes in the same breath.

Hell. She isn't wrong.

He thought his plan was about to unfold smoothly, exhaling a sigh of relief as he set his rucksack in the bed of his truck. Then, he heard it—the unmistakable creak of a door opening, followed by the soft padding of feet on concrete, drawing closer from behind. With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming.

"Daddy?" his daughter's sleepy voice broke the silence of the darkened garage. "Where are you going?"

Frankie's heart sank at the sound of Lily's voice, her innocent question piercing through his resolve like a knife. He turned around slowly, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light filtering through the garage.

"Lil, sweetheart," he began, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I have to go away for a little while." His chest tightened with every word, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.

"Why?" Lily's voice trembled with confusion and fear, her small frame shivering in the cool air of the garage. She took a hesitant step closer, her eyes searching his face for answers.

Frankie knelt down in front of her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-filled eyes. "It's... it's complicated, baby," he said softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. "But I promise, I'll come back for you. I love you so much, Lily. You're my everything."

Lily threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed. "Please don't go, Daddy," she pleaded, her words muffled against his shirt. "I need you."

Tears pricked at Frankie's eyes as he held his daughter close, his own heart breaking with every second that passed. But he knew he had to go, for both of their sakes. With a heavy heart, he gently pulled away from Lily's embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll always be with you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I promise. I'll come back for you, but you have to stay with Mommy for now, okay? I swear I'll come back for you."

As he stood up and turned away, leaving Lily behind in the garage, Frankie couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed on him like a lead weight. But deep down, he knew that he had to do this—to find a way to be the father Lily deserved, even if it meant breaking both of their hearts in the process.

His throat tightens as he relives that moment, the memory etched vividly in his mind like a relentless nightmare. He can still see Lily's tear-stained face, her eyes pleading with him not to leave, her small hands reaching out for him as he walked away, the way her small form looks back at him as he looks at his rearview mirror, getting smaller and smaller as he drives out of the cul-de-sac like a fucking coward. The weight of her despair presses down on him like a vice, suffocating him with guilt and remorse.

Frankie silently makes his way over to the carport, his father's familiar silhouette outlined against the fading sunlight. He watches as his dad tinkers away, lost in his own world of gears and grease. With a smirk playing on his lips, Frankie leans against the doorframe, soaking in the scene before him.

"When I left, I was saying goodbye to a pair of feet under a fender, and I come home years later and it's like you haven't moved an inch," Frankie quips, his tone laced with affection and a hint of disbelief. "Are you sure you ain't dead under there, old man?"

His dad chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that fills the air. "Nah, still kicking, just like always," he replies, not bothering to look up from his work. "You, on the other hand, look like you could use a good night's sleep."

Frankie rolls his eyes, but there's a warmth in his chest at the familiar banter. Despite everything that's changed, some things remain constant – like the easy camaraderie between a father and son, even after years apart.

Frankie's dad finally emerges from under the car, wiping his hands on a greasy rag as he beams at his son. "Well, well, look who's finally back home, a child of mine finally appears!" he says with a grin, opening his arms for a hug.

Frankie steps forward, enveloped in his dad's embrace, the familiar scent of motor oil and sawdust washing over him. "I'm your only child, Dad, or did you forget?" he teases, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

His dad chuckles, patting Frankie on the back. "No, son, I didn't forget," he replies with a twinkle in his eye. "But you always knew who my favorite was."

Frankie nods solemnly, his eyes squinting in the distance, not wanting his mind to go there. He clicks his tongue. "So-"

"I assume that your sudden appearance has something to do with that wife of yours screaming into my voicemail about you abandoning your family in the middle of the night?" his dad asks, a hint of concern lacing his words as he studies Frankie's expression.

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he meets his father's gaze. "Yeah, Pop," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "Things with Chelsea... they haven't been working for a while now. I couldn't stay there anymore. I had to get out."

His father's expression softens, concern etched into his features. "And what about Lily? How's she taking it?" he inquires, his voice laced with worry as he thinks of his granddaughter.

"Yeah, she was torn up about it," he admits, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But I couldn't just take her. Chels would accuse me of kidnapping, and you know how the courts always side with the mother. I can't risk getting arrested again. Not after what happened last time."

"Well, that seems about something she would do, I guess," his father surmises, "... but what the hell are you doin' back here? I swore the last time I saw you, you told me you would never step your foot back here, especially with what happened with Glory-"

Frankie cuts him off, his jaw tensing as he steels himself against the memories threatening to resurface. "Look, Dad, let's not go there, okay? It's been years, and I've moved on, she's moved on," he says, his tone firm. "I'm just here to figure things out, clear my head. I don't need to worry bout no skeletons in my fucking closet, especially when I know for a fact that she ain't here no more to spook me."

Frankie's dad pauses, his gaze distant for a moment before he speaks again. "You know, son, I always loved her like my own," he says quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "She was like family to us, and seeing her leave was one of the hardest things I've had to witness. It broke my heart, and I know for a fact that it broke yours, too. Maybe if she had stayed... you wouldn't be here standing on my front lawn, hiding from your wife."

Frankie's chest tightens at his father's admission, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for the pain he caused. "I know, Pop," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things had turned out differently."

"Yeah, well... shit happens, I guess." His father slaps his hand on his shoulder once more, motioning towards the house. "Come on, I got a pot of Chili that’s been simmering for the last few hours, I reckon it should be ready right about now. Go grab your shit and come help me set the table after you get settled, alright?"

Frankie nods, giving his father one last smile as he makes his way back to his pickup truck, slinging his military-grade duffle over his shoulder. Groaning, he makes his way up to the old house, the floorboards of the patio creaking as he opens the front door, the smell of his father's chili wafting in the air. He takes in the familiar sight of his living room, still the same as he left it all the years ago.

The same lumpy couch, the imprint of his father forever immortalized in his spot where he watches reruns of Pawn Stars and Columbo, greeted Frankie as he stepped into the living room. The faded fabric sagged under his weight as he lowered himself onto it, memories flooding back with each creak of the worn-out springs.

As Frankie's gaze shifted to the mantle, he couldn't help but notice the familiar photos arranged there. His eyes lingered on the one of him and his mother, her radiant smile captured forever in the frame. Beside it was a picture of you and Frankie as kids, arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, the innocence of youth reflected in your beaming faces.

Frankie's breath caught in his throat as he noticed a new addition to the mantle – a photo of you and his father in front of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center. His father's arms were proudly slung around your shoulders, and both of you wore wide smiles that reached your eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, capturing a bond that had evidently formed in his absence.

"Well, what are you doing just sittin' there? Table ain't gonna set itself."

Frankie rolls his eyes at that. Yep, shit hasn't changed a bit. "Placemats still in the same drawer?"

"Unless someone moved them, which I highly doubt, being that it's just been me in this house for the last fifteen years," his father replies with a weary sigh, retrieving a steaming casserole dish from the oven and setting it on the stove. "Made some of that cornbread you like so much too," he adds with a wink. "Your Mama's recipe, not that boxed shit."

As they arrange the table settings, Frankie's father casts a cautious glance at him, a hint of concern in his eyes. "So, besides your marriage, How's everything going, son?"

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he carefully places the silverware beside each plate. "Could be better, Dad. Could be a lot better."

His father's expression softens with understanding. "I heard about what happened. You doing okay?"

Frankie nods, though the weight of his recent troubles still hangs heavily on him. "Yeah, I'm managing. Just trying to figure things out."

His father places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know, son, we all make mistakes. What's important is how we learn from them and move forward."

Frankie meets his father's gaze. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

His father's fork hovers awkwardly over his plate, his gaze fixed on the food as if it holds the answers to questions he dare not ask. "Dig in, for fucks sake. Don't let it get cold."

Frankie senses an opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere, away from the awkwardness. "Hey, Pop," he begins, trying to sound nonchalant, "I couldn't help but notice that photo on the mantle. Is it new?"

His father pauses, then looks at him, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he answers, "The one from New York? Yeah, it's recent."

"How recent?" Frankie probes further, his curiosity piqued.

His dad casually tears off a piece of cornbread and dips it into his chili, shrugging. "About three months ago," he replies, his tone casual. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just surprised, that's all," Frankie says with what he hopes is casual, stabbing his spoon into his bowl, pushing the pieces of beans and corn around, refusing to make eye contact with his father who is surely gazing back at him with the quirk of his brow. "Wasn't aware that the both of you were still close," he mumbles, the sight of your bright wide smile feeling like death by a thousand cuts straight into his jugular. “Never thought that you would actually leave this fucking place, let alone go to New fucking York.”

"Well, we haven't stopped being close, son. Did you know that she sends me a bottle of tequila every year on my birthday? Noticed the difference in quality as the years gone by, she's doing quite alright up there in the big 'ol apple." Frankie hears his father make a noncommital snort as he continues to eat. “Besides, she asked me to visit her the last time she was in town, and I ain’t getting any younger, have to enjoy life somehow, right?”

You still remembered his father's birthday. Do you still remember his? he wonders silently.

He strains his eye at the label of said tequila bottle, near the center of the dinner table. José Cuervo 250 Aniversario. Twenty-one hundred off the shelf, easy. A soft snort escapes his lips, shaking his head. Well, at least you still remembered your shit.

"You know, she's one of those lawyers that deal with family stuff," his father muses, chuckling to himself as he gets that gleam in his eye when he realizes he has a (stupid, but convenient idea). "Maybe you should-"

“No.”

“I could even be the one to call her, I know she won’t say no to me-“

“Pop-“

“She’s still single, you know.”

“I don’t know what her being single has to do anything with my divorce-“

“She never really got into anything serious, at least she never told me… but I knew. She was too busy for it, you know? Too distracted. Told her she should stop playing ball with the boys and start her own firm back here."

Frankie's father continued, a wistful tone creeping into his voice as he reminisced. "She always had that fire in her, just like her grandma. I remember when she was just a kid, always standing up for what she believed in, never backing down from a challenge. That girl could argue her way out of anything."

Frankie listened quietly, his mind racing with memories of Glory's fierce determination. Despite their differences, he couldn't deny the admiration he held for her unwavering spirit.

"Yeah, well, she's probably forgotten all about this place," Frankie muttered dismissively, though a small part of him hoped it wasn't true.

His father's gaze softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

"Maybe. But some things, some people, they never really leave you, no matter how far you go."

"Why settle for Fredericksburg when she's killing it up there?" Frankie says bitterly, his frustration palpable. "She's made it clear that there is nothing for her here beside her sister, and her Nana has been gone for the last ten years. This place is a shithole, honestly."

"If it's such a shithole, then why the fuck are you here then?" his father challenges, his irritation evident as he stabs his salad with more force than necessary. "It might not be fancy like New York or as interesting as Tampa, but it's your home, son. It's her home, too."

"Well, I'm glad to know that you still gave a damn about somebody after all these years," Frankie retorts quietly. "... and here I thought I was your actual child-"

"What do you want me to say, huh? I feel like you're trying to insinuate something here, son, so just be a fucking man for once and spit it out!"

"Why didn't you visit me, huh? If you had so much time on your hands, why her and not me?"

"What, so I could bear witness to the shitshow that's your marriage? Do you think I like watching you suffer?" his father shouts, slamming his fork on the table. "Your wife can barely stand being in the same room as me! I ain't gonna waste my time spending it with people who clearly don't want me there."

"Well maybe if you didn't find the need to compare her to Glory all the damn like you did, maybe she would have made my life a fuck of a lot easier, don't you think?"

His father's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and guilt flickering across his features before settling into a resigned acceptance. "Son, I never meant to make things harder for you," he starts, his voice softer now, devoid of the earlier hostility. "But you gotta understand, Glory was special. She was... different. And I know I shouldn't have let that affect how I saw your wife, but I guess old habits die hard."

Frankie's shoulders tense as he absorbs his father's words, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. "Well, you certainly made it clear where her place was in your eyes," he mutters.

His father sighs heavily, his gaze dropping to his plate. "I know, son. And I'm sorry for that," he says, his tone laced with regret.

Frankie's jaw clenches as he struggles to contain his frustration. "Yeah, well, easier said than done," he grumbles, his gaze flickering to the tequila bottle on the table, a stark reminder of the divide between them.

His father rises from the table, his movements slow and deliberate, as if weighed down by the gravity of their conversation. "I'm heading to the bar," he announces quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "Don't wait up for me."

Frankie scoffs under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Typical," he mutters, bitterness seeping into his words. "Always running away when shit gets dicey. Coward."

As his father reaches the door, he pauses, casting a sorrowful glance back at Frankie. "Takes a coward to know one, son," he says softly, the words heavy with unspoken regret. Then, without another word, he slips out into the night, leaving Frankie alone with his thoughts.

With a frustrated grunt, Frankie snatches the tequila bottle from the table, his movements rough and unceremonious. He doesn't bother with a shot glass, instead opting to take several swigs straight from the bottle. The fiery liquid burns as it travels down his throat, but he hardly notices it amidst the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.

"Fuck," he curses. "Welcome home, I guess."

Clutching the bottle tightly, he trudges up the stairs to his bedroom, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders. As he disappears into the darkness of his room, the only sound that fills the empty house is the quiet echo of his footsteps on the creaking floorboards.

Series Taglist:

@ashleyfilm @danaispunk @imdrinkingpedro @yxtkiwiyxt @lilyevanstan1325

@kungfucapslock @critfailroll

#fic: hometown glory #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales #hometown glory #frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier

[fjorests-of-wildemount]

I have talked quite a bit about this in the past, but given where we are in the campaign now and what has just happened, I wanted to put down some thoughts in a maybe, hopefully coherent kind of way. Mostly the thoughts chase each other around in my head going “brrrrr” so here’s hoping they cooperate.

Since we have known him, Orym has been on a Mission. When he first linked up with the Crown Keepers he had been on the road, presumably on his own, for at least four years, possibly five. At some time during those years, Keyleth charged him with finding out information on the attack that killed Will and Derrig to make sense of what happened that day. Early on he’s quiet, thoughtful, reluctant to take the lead, and honorable to a fault. Even as he opens himself up to create connections with this motley crew, he still guards part of himself. In fact, in the time we see them together he never tells the Crown Keepers about his family. The only mention we get is when he is asked by the Wildmother if he will continue on and Orym says, “For him, I will.”

None of this is to say he doesn’t feel connected to his friends, who manage to take him on a journey away from his primary directive, and–given the fact that Orym was alone at the beginning of ExU–it’s safe to say these are the first people he’s connected with in a long time. It was while he was with them that he started practicing the Zeph’aeratam again. Being part of the group with Opal and Dariax and Fearne and Dorian and Fy’ra showed Orym that the world was bigger than his grief.

But still, he kept it to himself.

After the events of ExU Prime, Orym and his two best friends from the Crown Keepers, Dorian and Fearne, went back to Zephrah. A place that I would argue Orym probably had returned to seldom, if not never, since Will and Derrig’s deaths. It was sometime during this journey that Orym told them both about his family, likely the first people from outside of Zephrah to know their names and what they meant to him. These friends went with him to continue his Mission, to try to help him get closure. And when Dorian left, Orym kept hold of the means to keep in touch, because Orym had gotten closer to Fearne and Dorian than he had gotten to anyone since he lost his family.

I would love to know what, if any, kind of conversations Orym had with Dorian and Fearne about Will and Derrig, especially Will. Because as the weeks went on, Orym did forge bonds with Bell’s Hells, he did start to tell more people about the ones he’d lost, but always at a distance. He kept the memories of who Will and Derrig were to himself, even as he was honest about how much he missed them. Did Orym take the chance to tell Dorian and Fearne about what they were like when they were alive? Because it’s clear that Orym is bereft, and angry, and lonely, and goes to sleep every night with them in his thoughts. Is there anyone else alive who knows the secrets of what Will and Orym were like when they were together, just the two of them?

There is nothing secret about the pain and anger he feels, but what about the joy?

The Mission as it was originally put to Orym is over now. They know everything about how and why Zephrah was attacked. That doesn’t mean Orym is stopping, because Orym isn’t the kind of person who could stop when someone is in danger. But the single-minded drive toward Otohan, toward answers and justice or whatever Orym thinks Will and Derrig would have wanted from him in this, was the mortar Orym used to build up his walls. He’s standing on a precipice of a vast future and he’s alone because he has made himself alone. His grief has made him alone. And there are so many complicated reasons why Dorian is the one he is finally, actually reaching out to now that there is no more path to shuffle down. 

I’m not sure if Orym even knows who he is anymore without this grief, without this Mission. In his mid-thirties his whole adult life has been spent married to Will, or grieving Will, or searching for answers for Will’s death. In the middle of the world ending, how do you decide what comes next?

A million episodes ago Orym offered to be the one Imogen could lean on, and then, after she walked away, he reached out to Dorian on the Sending Stone. I think Dorian has been the one Orym thought that he could lean on for a long while now. And I think that is intrinsically tied to his Mission, this journey, and his grief.

#critical role #bells hells #orym of the air ashari #dorian storm #I just have so many thoughts about him #can't believe we have to wait another week to see this unfold

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 41:

I like shiny things, but I’d marry with Paper Rings…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

TW: spicy, adult content, 18+

Info: to fit my story line I swapped Austin with Mexico, the triple header will then be Mexico, Austin, Brazil

I stirred in the bed, the sunbeams sneaking through a gap between the curtains woke me up and I yawned.

"What time is it?" Charles whispered next to me and I turned a little, checking the time on my phone.

"Too early to be awake…" I mumbled, turning back, snuggling into him.

"Yeah? Then let’s sleep for a little longer." he kissed my forehead as I laid my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

"Sounds like a plan." I whispered, closing my eyes.

"Why is your heart racing like that?" Charles asked after a while and I opened my eyes "Are you okay?" he turned his head, looking at me.

"I think so…"

"You think so?"

"It’s nothing, let’s just sleep…" I closed my eyes again, but he put two fingers under my chin, tilting my head up.

"What’s wrong?" he asked gently and I sighed.

"Last year here in Mexico…" I said quietly.

"That’s on your mind?"

"A little? I mean when we did the track walk and we walked past the spot where it happened… I don’t know, it’s just felt weird and I thought back to when I was in the garage and- and I thought you were dead…" my voice broke and Charles pulled me closer into him.

"But I was okay. I am okay. It’s just a bad memory, nothing else! Don’t think about it anymore, it’s not good for you, especially not when you have to focus on the race ahead!" he kissed the crown of my head and I slowly nodded.

"Can you just promise me that you take care out there today?" I whispered after a while and heard him sigh a little.

"I can promise you that I will try. You know that’s all I can do…"

"I know. But please try to."

"I promise that I will."

Unfortunately keeping his promise was harder than it sounded like, when I watched the RedBull and Ferrari sandwich in front of me, sending Checo off track and Charles losing the lead to Max. I took a deep breath and focused on my own race which I ended in the same position as I started in.

"That’s P4. Good job." Pete radioed and I sighed a little.

"Yeah, it was the best I could do I guess. Good job on the team’s side, our pit stops are getting better with every race!"

"Team effort."

"Team effort."

Austin next started out strong. A good quali and sprint race were making me feel optimistic for Sunday, the race didn’t bring the same result tho, with a P7 but it was the best we could do. I finished my interviews when I saw Charles looking frustrated, shaking his head.

"What’s going on?" I asked and he sighed.

"The FIA checked the planks on some of the cars… Lewis and mine apparently didn’t comply the technical regulations, so there’s a hearing."

"Are they for real? That was probably because we had two races at one weekend! Of course there’s some high wear on the skin pads! This track is fucking bumpy and with the stupid sprint race there’s not enough time to check it properly?" I said loudly and some people looked.

"Lizzie…" Julie warned and I sighed.

"Let’s go…" I grabbed his hand and lead him away, back to his hospitality "I would wait with you, but I’m not allowed in there…"

"Let’s go to Audi, I don’t want to wait alone…" Charles shrugged and I nodded.

"Okay." we walked back and waited, but I had a bad feeling and when Mia said that the final decision was made, I already knew by the look on her face what it meant.

"I was disqualified, right?" Charles voice was trembling.

"Yeah… you and Lewis…"

"Lewis as well? That means…"

"Carlos will move up into P3…" Mia said and Charles laughed.

"Of course… but hey, Lizzie, congrats to your P5 now." he patted my arm.

"Charles…" I began but he got up.

"No, it’s fine. It’s like this. Whatever. We can’t change it now anyways. I go to my race debrief, what’s there to debrief anyways but yeah… you go to yours. I see you later." he kissed me briefly and walked off.

"Can you please make sure that he’s okay?" I asked Mia and she nodded.

"Of course…" she walked off and Julie sighed.

"What a day…"

"What a day indeed."

"I don’t know if that’s a good idea…" Charles mumbled and I rolled my eyes a little.

"Oh come on! After that race? You deserve a little fun!" I said.

"Yeah but… I have to make some points in Brazil! I can’t mess this up!" he sighed.

"You won’t mess it up! It’s all going to be fine! We’ll be in Brazil right in time for the media day. It will be fun, you’ll see!" I smiled and after a while he sighed.

"Danny Ric and his ideas."

"It will be fun. Come on now, costumes!" I smiled excitedly but I didn’t like the look on his face "Why are you looking at me like that?" he just chuckled and I punched his arm "I swear, if you picked a slutty nurse or house maid costume… I’ll cut off your ba…" I began but got interrupted by his hysterical laugh.

"Oh cara mia, although I would love to see you as a slutty nurse or house maid, I wouldn’t want 500 other people to see that, too, there are parts of your body only I get to see… no, I picked something better!" he said and his little possessiveness made me blush.

"Alright. Then I’d say let’s exchange the costumes and get going?" I said, trying to contain my grin.

"Oh, what have you done?" Charles asked, voice laced with a tint of worry.

"You’ll see…" I chuckled and grabbed the garment bag "I’ll go to the bedroom."

As I zipped the bag open I sighed and took the costume out, now I preferred a slutty nurse or house maid costume. I googled for make-up and hair ideas when I heard steps coming my way and the door flying open.

"Absolutely not! No! I’m not wearing that!" Charles cursed and I looked him up, from head to toe.

"Holy shit, you look hot… umm… I’m… umm…" I was at a loss for words, he looked amazing. Hot. Sexy. Dangerous. Wearing all black.

"I’m not wearing a Mercedes race suit as a costume! Ferrari will kill me!" he groaned.

"Then I’m not wearing this…" I said and pointed at the costume on the bed.

"Fine. If I lose my job, it’s your fault!" he sighed and I chuckled.

"Oh come on, if anything it will only make them draft your new contract faster!" I said, still ogling him up and down. My insides began to stir and I was feeling hot, flushed "Go now, please. I have to get ready." my voice was raspy.

"Maybe I should talk to the design team and ask for an all black suit next season?" Charles chuckled and I shook my head.

"Go. Now. Thank you." I pushed him through the door and sighed "Slutty cheerleader here I go…"

Charles POV:

I watched how Lizzie danced with Kika, having fun, laughed.

"It’s been a while since I saw her this carefree?" Pierre nodded towards our girls and I smiled.

"Yeah… this whole thing with Diaz, then with Sainz, Singapore and the m…" I stopped abruptly and Pierre cocked an eyebrow.

"What happened in Singapore?"

"I mean, she could’ve won that race, silence the media who were slandering her again and again…" I lied and he nodded.

"Yeah, that’s true, it was a shame, honestly."

"It was. But look at her, she’s happy. That’s what’s most important."

The two girls pulled us on the dance floor and Lizzie threw her arms around my neck.

"Are you having fun, Charlie?" she asked swaying and I smiled.

"A whole lot… my beautiful cheerleader is here dancing with me after all." I replied and kissed her.

"Mhh me too. It was a good idea that we came here… alright your costume…" she mumbled against my lips and I tilted my head a little.

"What’s with my costume?"

"I don’t like how all the girls are staring at you because you look so devilishly handsome in this black race suit." she pouted and I had to laugh "That’s not funny!"

"Cara mia, you chose the costume!" I said matter of factly.

"I know… but still…" she groaned a little and I pulled her closer, kissing the corner of her mouth, down her jaw, feeling her squirming in my hold.

"Don’t worry, pretty girl. They might see me in the suit… but you’re the only girl seeing me out of it…" I whispered in her ear and I felt her shuddering.

"Let’s get a taxi…" she rasped out and I grinned at her like a devil "Now."

She clung to me, her arms around my neck, hands carding through my hair, leaving hot open mouthed kisses along the column of my neck, my jaw, my throat. My hands gripping her waist, pulling her close into me, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt, hiking it up her thighs. As soon as the elevator door opened I pushed her out, walking us fast toward our door, prying my hands from her waist, lifting my head up to see the security panel of the door. Lizzie looked up at the loss of my arms around her and the sudden movement of my head.

"Pretty girl, I have to open the door… stop pouting…" I groaned as she began suckling at the sensitive skin just below my ear.

"Hurry up…" she whined, pulling my head down, clashing her hot, wet lips onto mine, making me taste the sweetness of the cocktails she drank earlier. The door opened with a simmer and I tapped her thighs, making her jump a little, wrapping her legs around my waist on instinct. I walked inside, kicking the door shut with my foot. Holding her up at her thighs, massaging them, distracted by her kisses and licks around my neck I stumbled into the bedroom, where I dropped her on the bed. She tilted her head up, eying me from head to toe, hungry look in her eyes.

"You look so devilishly hot in that suit… mhhh why don’t you screw Ferrari and go for Lewis seat instead?" she said breathless and I slapped her thigh "Was that supposed to be a punishment? Try again…"

I chuckled and leaned down, holding myself steady above her, ghosting my lips over hers before I kissed the corner of her mouth, then kissed a line to her ear, breathing out, hot and heavy against it, making her moan a little.

"I think you would much rather enjoy a reward…" I whispered, gently biting down at her earlobe.

"How do I earn it?" she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.

"I’m a Mercedes driver… I want to be cheered on by my personal cheerleader…" I grinned at her and she put one hand in my neck, pulling my head close.

"I can do that…" she breathed against my lips and nibbled at my lower lip before she pushed me off of her and got up, she then turned around and I sat up. She unclipped the Pom Pom’s from her waist and began to do a cheer routine.

"I love seeing you wearing my logo… it’s like I marked you… for everyone to see…" I muttered and she smiled seductively "But right now I wouldn’t mind seeing you out of it…" Lizzie understood the hint immediately. Throwing the Pom Pom’s my way. Sliding her hands up and down her sites, before she hooked her thumbs under the hem of the top, pulling it slowly over her head, revealing a dark red lace bra, making me choke up. I loved seeing her in red. And she knew it. She gently cupped her breasts before turning around, bending down, shaking her behind a little to reveal the sight of the matching slip underneath her short skirt. I felt how the suit got tight around my crotch, too tight, and threw my head back, closing my eyes. My breathing hitched when soft fabric hit my face and I opened my eyes, looking down at Lizzie’s bra in my lap. The second I looked up I lost all restraint and jumped up. Backing her up against the wall, making her whimper as the rough fabric of my race suit dragged along her bare skin, when I pressed my knee between her thighs, pushing up her skirt. I kissed her, rough and deep, almost frantic as the sweetness of her lips and tongue engulfed my senses. Sensations of heat, lust and love rushing through my body. I felt my growing bulge against her thigh, making her moan and me taking a deep breath. Lizzie’s hands began to fiddle with the zipper of the suit and she whined desperately as it wouldn’t budge.

"Don’t be so impatient, pretty girl!" I grinned and helped her, pulling the zipper down, letting her strip me off of it, the suit pooling around my waist, before pulling my shirt over my head. She pressed her firm breasts into my chest and I could feel her pebbled nipples against my skin as we moaned in unison. I pushed her skirt further up her thighs, exposing the dark red, lazy slip, cupping her heat with my hand, rubbing once. She bit her lips, suppressing a moan and I felt her knees buckling so I grabbed her thighs, hiking them around my waist, pushing her further into the wall. She let out a surprised huff and locked her eyes with mine, before she captured my lips in a searing kiss, it was sloppy, messy but above all desperate. It was suffocating and hot in the best way possible, but my growing bulge pressed against her hot core made me pull away, trying to catch my breath. Lizzie made a little sound of protest, before gripping my neck again, trying to pull my lips back to hers.

"Charles…" she whined and I pushed us off the wall, carrying her to our bed, falling back down on it, Lizzie above me. She blinked and sat up, straddling my hips, and I felt my heart palpitating, lungs clenching, as I saw her naked frame, looking like a true goddess. I put my hands on her waist, rubbing circles on it and with one swift move I turned us over, hovering now over her. Her hands shot up, tangling in my hair and pulling me closer. I only gave her a soft kiss on her lips before I started my way down, kissing her throat, collarbone, leaving tiny marks. My hands pushing her skirt down her legs as I kissed down the valley between her breasts, locking eyes with her, hungry and full of lust. I kissed my way further down, nibbled at her stomach making her clench it in the process. As I arrived at her core I kissed it above the fabric, making Lizzie bucking her hips, I gently laid one hand on her stomach and pushed her back into the mattress, waiting a moment for her to calm down, then I hooked my thumbs under the band of her slip and pulled it down with one smooth move, throwing it together with her skirt behind my back. A soft thud telling me both clothings landed on the floor.

"Ready for your reward?" I whispered and looked up at Lizzie, who nodded slightly, and I grinned, devouring her. Caressing her soft skin, making her moan, gripping my hair, pulling me closer to where she needed me the most.

"Don’t stop…" she whimpered as I stole the air from her very lungs, making her puff out a long breath "Close… so close…" she mumbled underneath her breath. After a short while, she arched her back, grinding her core into my face, whining and moaning in ecstasy, as she reached her climax. I let go of her, looking up at her gorgeous face, eyes closed, blissful smile on her lips, chest heaving with every breath she took, beads of sweat glistening all over her beautiful body. Her hands let go of my hair, searching around until they found mine, still holding her waist down. She intertwined our fingers, gently pulling me up and I obeyed, leaning down over her face, looking at the pretty girl underneath me, my pretty girl. She slowly opened her eyes, still out of breath.

"Hi…" she whispered, all of a sudden shy again, cheeks slightly blushing, as she looked at my face, bottom half glistening with her essence and she closed her eyes again, groaning quietly.

"Hi pretty girl…" I answered, gently nudging her nose with mine. She bit her lip and looked up at me with hooded eyes, then she leaned up, pressing her lips on mine, tasting herself on them. I had to grin into the kiss and she slowly pulled back, licking her lips. She pulled our intertwined hands to her lips, kissing my knuckles gently. Smiling her most gorgeous smile, falling back even more into her shy demeanour, she still wore at times. As I adjusted my position above her, my straining crotch, still covered in the race suit, brushed against her heat, and her breathing hitched. She looked down and gulped audibly.

"Take it off…" she said in a hushed tone, her fiery gaze burning a hole in my middle, before she put her hands on my hips, pushing the suit down herself. I helped her, sliding it off, letting it fall onto the floor. Her eyes found mine and she cupped my cheek with her hand, gently caressing it "I love you…" she purred softly and I laid a feathery kiss on her lips, getting more heated with every moment that passed and in that I could feel her soft core beneath my skin. She grabbed my hips, pulling me flush against her, an impatient whine on her lips as she greedily captured my bottom lip between her teeth. I felt my heart racing, my body buzzing all over with anticipation and locked eyes with her, gently freeing my lips from hers. Littering her face and jaw with tiny kisses, as I sucked on her collarbone she arched her back into me and with one last look in her eyes I let my arousal take over, making her moan loudly as our body’s melted into one.

"I love you too…" I muttered out, moaning as her heat clenched around me.

"We could’ve chartered a whole plane for all of us…" Pierre chuckled as I watched almost half the grid settling into their seats, occupying the entire first class.

"True that!" Daniel laughed, plopping down in his seat.

"Just so you guys know I want silence the next 10 hours. Utter and complete silence." Lando groaned and put a sleeping mask and his headphones on.

"And it’s all too much for little Lando Norris." Daniel imitated Crofty and we all laughed.

"I said silence." Lando murred and I cuddled back into my seat.

"Comfy?" Charles asked after a while and I shook my head, taking his hand and cuddling it to my chest.

"Better." I closed my eyes and heard him chuckle.

"Silly girl. Sleep now, we have a hectic day ahead of us." he said, kissing the crown of my head.

"Hectic weekend. And did you see the weather forecast? Damn…" I whispered.

"Yeah I saw it…" Charles said and I felt him tensing up a little.

"Hey, it will be alright, don’t worry, we’ll have a good weekend, you’ll see." I kissed the back of his hand and he smiled a little.

"I hope you’re right." he said and I sat up.

"Forget about Austin. It’s in the past. You’ll do amazing! So come on. Have a little nap with me." I smiled and Charles sighed. I could literally see the wheels turning in his head with how hard he was thinking about the weekend ahead.

"It’s just… I need to proof that I’m better. John Elkann will be in Brazil… he wasn’t supposed to be there, he planned to come to Vegas. But now he’s already in Brazil? What if it is to tell me that they’re not happy with my performance? That they won’t extend my contract?" he whispered and I sat up.

"Stop it now, okay! Why would they do that? They’re not stupid! Austin wasn’t your fault! Stop this nonsense now! He’s coming to Brazil because he wants to, there’s no reason behind it. Period." I looked at him determined and after a while he smiled a little.

Maybe you’re right." he leaned back, taking my hand in his again "What would I do without you?"

"I answered that question before, so you know the answer." I leaned into him, my head on his shoulder.

"I might sink and drown and die."

"Exactly."

"Was that Fred that I saw earlier?" I asked Charles when we walked to the car, late at Saturday night.

"Yeah… he’s here…" he opened my door and I looked at him "He said he wanted to talk to me after the weekend…"

"About what?" I waited for him to get in the car as well.

"He didn’t say about what. Just that we need to talk." Charles looked worried. I saw how he clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white.

"It’s going to be okay, you’ll see." I pried his hands away from the steering wheel and made him look at me "Fred loves you. Whatever is going to happen, it’s okay!"

"I hope so." he mumbled and started the car.

We drove in silence but I felt Charles’ anxiety radiating off of him, the tension in his shoulders visible. And although I tried my best to soothe his worries, to calm him down, he was as nervous as ever when he got into the car on Sunday. I watched horrified how he flew off in the formation lap and my stomach was in tight knots the whole race. As soon as I was out of the car, I was looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

"You text me as soon as you see him, okay?" I said to Andrea and he nodded, walking back into the Ferrari garage.

"Lizzie, we really have to go now… come on." Julie urged and I followed her to the media pen, where I gave my interviews in the fastest way possible and Julie chuckled when I looked at her after the hopefully last one "Okay, okay, we’re done! You can go and look now for Charles!"

"Thank you!" I almost sprinted away, looking for Joris and Andrea.

"He’s here." the latter said when I stopped in front of the Ferrari hospitality.

"Is he okay? He didn’t answer my texts…" I was slightly out of breath from running.

"He’s umm-… he’s in a meeting with Fred… and I think I saw John Elkann with them as well…" Andrea said slowly and my heart began to race.

"Okay- I mean… I guess I wait then?"

"That’s all we can do now." Andrea smiled at me when I saw Silvia coming our way.

"But you know what? I can wait at Audi as well…" I walked off before the evil witch of the easy reached us, making my way to wait for Charles.

The debrief felt like a whole eternity and when I finally left I saw a text from Charles, saying that I should wait at the car for him. I had a bad feeling and said good night to everyone, walking to the parking lot. My heart was hammering in my chest when two arms engulfed me from behind, but just a second later I relaxed, feeling it was Charles.

"Hey cara mia." he kissed the side of my head, spinning me around.

"You’re smiling?" I asked cautiously and he nodded.

"I’m smiling." he smiled, kissing me.

"What does that mean? Is everything okay?" I asked and he pushed me against the car, kissing me again "Charles!"

"More than okay. Brilliant actually… but I can’t tell you for now. It has to be secret until it’s officially announced…" he smiled brightly, opening the door for me, pushing me inside.

"And what? You think I will spill the beans?" I pouted, right when he closed the door and walked around the car to get in "Am I not trustworthy en-…" he silenced me with another kiss.

"Fred will become team principal next season. My new contract is already drafted…" he began and I squealed.

"Mattia is gone?" I asked and Charles nodded.

"Mattia is gone… well next season…" he said and I did a little happy dance.

"Does that mean that Sainz will be gone as well?" I asked big Charles shook his head.

"They didn’t mention him. And I honestly don’t care. Since Fred joined it was planned for him to take over. That’s why he was so highly involved in the making of next seasons car. It’s his car. And he said it’s the car to win the championship with… or at least he hopes so." his most beautiful, dimple showing smile was back.

"Charles Leclerc, world champion 2024. I called it first." I said happily and he shrugged his shoulders.

"We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves now, cara mia." he chuckled, starting the engine.

"Maybe you don’t… but I will! Mark my words, world champion of 2024, Charles Leclerc, my gorgeous boyfriend." I smiled "Now I’m even more happy for our trip to LA."

"Yeah, me too, it will be great."

Charles POV:

"What are you doing?" I plopped down next to Lizzie on the sun island and she showed me her iPad.

"These are the three options for the kitchen… I love them all, but the third one is my favourite. I always wanted to have an all white kitchen with black hardware but the kitchen island in all black? Waterfall edges of this beautiful white granite with black veins? The same we use for the countertops? Damn Carla really had an amazing idea here."

"That was Carla’s idea?" I asked and she nodded "I have to so, they all look stunning, but yeah, the black island really stands out? What tiles? The other options had tiles."

"I was honestly thinking to use the same granite as backsplash? Like a big fat slab of stone… here…" she tapped on the display and the model changed.

"Yes. 100 % yes. It looks amazing! Wow. Send it to Léon That’s our kitchen." I saw how happy and giddy she was about this decision and kissed her cheek "What else? Tell me you have more!"

"So, we already decided for the guest bathrooms and both powder rooms… but do you want to see my vision for our bathroom?" she asked and I nodded "Okay, here. I saw this bathtub and fell in love. Look at the size of it! Here’s the layout." she showed me the bathroom, the shower, big enough for a handful of people, the two vanities, a dressing table in between and the huge bathtub. It looked perfect.

"Perfect… like honestly! Lizzie you outdone yourself." I pulled her into me, smiling at her blushed cheeks "I can’t wait to move into our home together. It’s going to be so perfect. You are so perfect."

"Oh stop. I had a lot of help from Carla and our mum’s…" she almost whispered and I tilted her head up.

"Yeah but it’s your vision they help you with. You make this place our home." I kissed her, feeling her melting under my touch.

"Oh for fucks sake! Take a room! Ugggghhhh… I’m leaving!" Andrea groaned and I laughed.

"Wait for me, I’m not staying behind with these two lovebirds! Let’s go to Six Flags alone!" Joris said, following Andrea.

"Noooo! Wait for me!" Lizzie scrambled off of me and I huffed.

"Excuse me?" I looked at her.

"Wait for us?" she said meekly and grinned.

"Exactly. Wait for us!" we got up and followed the guys outside.

"I heard you’re excited for all the roller coasters." Lizzie teased Andrea and he laughed nervously "It’s okay. I’ll hold your hand when it get’s scary."

"I can also just wait for you guys…" he began but Lizzie shook her head.

"Nope. You’re coming with us on the rides! It will be fun! Believe me!"

It was fun. For Lizzie. For me. Not for Andre. Also not for Joris. Lizzie made her puppy eyes and made us ride everything there was and the colour from Andrea and Joris’ faces drained with every new ride more and more.

"Cara mia, I think you’ve exhausted them…" I whispered when we drove back to our Airbnb in the evening, the two guys half asleep in the backseat of the car. Lizzie turned and looked at them, one paler than the other.

"I’m sorry boys…" she chuckled, smiling apologetic.

"No you’re not!" Joris groaned.

"I can’t wait for when it’s time to go racing again!" Andrea sighed, leaning his head back "Thank god we’re leaving in two days, before you kill us."

"I’m definitely not getting paid enough for being tortured like that by your girlfriend…" Joris murmured and I had to laugh.

"Oh come on! It wasn’t that bad!" I said and they both looked at me pointedly.

"Your girl is a crazy spitfire and you know it!" Andrea said and I turned to Lizzie, grabbing her hand.

"That she is." I kissed the back of her hand and watched her blush "My girl."

"Coming to you Lizzie, what do you think of the race weekend here in Las Vegas?" Tom Clarkson asked and I looked over at Max, who looked just as disinterested as I felt.

"Honestly? Max said everything there is to say, I don’t have much to add. It’s all a big show for nothing. It’s turning into a circus, gets bigger and bigger when we all come here for one reason only: we want to race. We don’t need all of this stuff around. Events left and right. The sport itself is interesting enough. We don’t need all this bullshit around we get to see here." I said and Max nodded laughing.

"Alright, thank you, Lizzie. We open the floor now for some questions."

I didn’t listen to most of the questions and the ones for me were basically all the same, how I liked it here, what I expected from the race. When I walked out with Max and Charles, Max and I couldn’t even stop shit talking the whole event, leading to Charles rolling his eyes, saying that we were too dramatic.

"No Charlie boy, we’re not dramatic. We want to race. And not get paraded around like a freaking attraction…" I sighed.

"Listen to your girlfriend mate!" Max chuckled as our ways parted and he walked towards the RedBull hospitality.

"You should stop being so negative! Maybe the weekend will be great! I know, the opening ceremony was maybe a little bit too much, I agree but overall? The atmosphere is amazing, don’t you think?" Charles nudged my shoulder.

"Yeah maybe… let’s see how the racing is, you know? Racing? The reason why we’re here?" I looked at him and he pinched my side.

"You’re so funny… not… you’ll see! The racing will be great! How often do we get an entire new track just like that?"

"Umm- just last year in Miami?"

"Oh for fucks sake, Lizzie! Come on! It will be fun! You’ll see!" Charles rolled his eyes.

But what I saw was a messed up Friday on a track that had to be checked entirely for its drain covers and made us wait for for what felt like a whole eternity to come back for free practice 2.

At least the Saturday started better and when Charles made it on pole, a big smile on his face, I decided to swallow down my grudge against the track, because it looked like he was really enjoying racing here in Vegas.

"So? What do you say? Will you be the first winner of the Las Vegas GP?" I asked Charles when we were walking back from the national anthem and he laughed.

"I sure hope so, but you never know, Max is right behind me, then you, Checo… it won’t be easy!"

"And don’t forget Danny Ric! He made it just in time to be ready to race here in Vegas! And he’s starting on P6!" I said right as said driver pushed his way through us.

"Watch it lovebirds…" he chuckled and I slapped his arm.

"Oh you better stop, I saw you yapping all over my sister just an hour ago…" I said and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yeah yeah, whatever!" Charles laughed and kissed my cheek "Good luck, cara mia, Daniel. Let’s have some fun out there."

Fun? No. Crazy? Yes. The start already saw 4 cars retiring with Checo, Lewis, Norris and Sainz all out of the race. The red flag was waved and George, Oscar and Alonso all had to get some new front wings and tyres. As the race re-started it took only three more laps for the next yellow flag and safety car, Alonso being the fifth car to retire.

"It’s crazy! How many cars are out already? 5?" I radioed.

"Yes 5. Don’t make it 6, focus on your race, please." Pete replied and I chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah…"

I continued, watching Charles and Max battle hard for the race lead.

"Lizzie, red flag, Magnussen out. Careful, there’s a lot of debris." Pete radioed right as I drove over said debris.

"Fuck, I think I’ve damaged my floor. Is Kevin okay?"

"He’s okay. Return to the pits, we need to check your car."

As soon as I was back in the pits and saw Matt’s face when he got up from the floor I knew it was over. I had to retire.

"I’m sorry, Lizzie. It happened so fast, I couldn’t warn you any earlier." Pete apologised as soon as I was out of the car, taking my helmet off.

"It’s alright, it’s not your fault. It sucks but it’s like this." I patted his back.

"Oh wow, Charles 2.0…" he chuckled and I laughed, right when Liam appeared out of nowhere.

"I’m sorry Lizzie." he hugged my waist and I ruffled his hair a little.

"It’s okay, now let’s watch Charlie and Daniel, shall we?" I picked him up and he nodded.

"You have to go the interviews first…" Julie reminded me and I sighed.

"Alright, I’ll be back soon Liam." I kissed his cheek before I put him down on the stool in front of dad, while mum hugged me.

"I’m sorry…" she whispered.

"No, I’m sorry! The first race in a while that you attend and I bottle it."

"You didn’t bottle it. You were unfortunate!" Dad side hugged me and I sighed.

"Yeah, maybe… now let’s hope that Charles wins it and Danny keeps his podium." I shrugged and followed Julie to the media pen.

The interviews were quickly done and on my way back I watched Shima and Joris all cozy in the almost empty Ferrari hospitality. When they saw me they pulled away from each other and I had to laugh. It seemed like she wasn’t here just to see me after all. I walked back into our garage, just in time to see the final lap, Max winning the race, followed by Charles and Daniel.

"He almost won." Liam sighed and I nodded.

"He did. But he had an amazing weekend, just like Danny, we can be proud of them!" I said and he nodded, playing with something in his pocket.

"Can we go to the fence? I want to congratulate them!" Liam said and I smiled.

"Of course, Bubba, let’s go."

I sat Liam on the fence and we looked up at the podium, where Max, Charles and Daniel were spraying the champagne and having a party of their own.

"It’s been a while since I saw him that happy!" Sissy said and I looked at her.

"Oh come on! That’s just a teeny tiny bit more than when he’s with you and Liam!" I said and bumped her shoulder.

"Believe me, that was a mask for a long time… losing his seat was the worst thing that could’ve happen…" she almost whispered it as she looked up again, tears in her eyes. As if Daniel felt that she was looking he turned around, forming a little heart with his fingers and sending it to my sister "Look at this dork!"

I smiled as I saw how my sister blushed. The truth was I’ve never seen her more happy than with Daniel. And with Liam loving him wholeheartedly as well, I knew that she finally found the one. The one that was now approaching us, with the biggest grin on his face, scooping up Liam and whispering something into his ear, the little lad nodding excitedly and handing him something. Daniel handed him over to Charles, who made big eyes as Liam whispered something into his ear. I watched how Daniel swooped up Sissy, twirling her around, saying something to her.

"WHAT?!" she exclaimed loudly and Daniel only nodded and kissed her, then sat her down looking in her eyes "You‘re kidding, right?"

"Hell no! Let’s do it tonight!" he said and took her hand and I almost choked as I saw him slipping a ring onto her finger "Everyone is here! I don’t want to wait a single day! What are you saying?"

"I-I umm…" she looked frantically around, Charles sat Liam down on the ground and he ran up to her.

"Say yes Mummy! YES!" he was overly excited and Charles hugged me from behind, watching what was happening.

"Yes. YES!" Sissy said and Daniel kissed her, before he scooped up Liam and hugged them both.

"What did just happen?" I whispered and Charles kissed my temple.

"Danny Ric just happened." he chuckled and I smiled.

"I don’t even have a dress? This is crazy! Why are we doing this? I mean… come on! We could wait! How are we supposed to plan a wedding in what? 12 hours? It’s the middle of the night? What are we doing?" Sissy was pacing back and forth while Mum, Shima and I just sat there, listening to her rambling.

"It’s Vegas! I think finding a dress won’t be too difficult? Shima’s here, she can fix anything you find into something great! Maybe not your dream wedding dress, but a beautiful one nonetheless? And again, it’s Vegas! This city never sleeps! Planning a wedding shouldn’t be too hard? I mean we are in one of the fanciest hotels already? Let me check if they have a nice location where we can celebrate? Finding a chapel won't be too hard either…" I chuckled and Mum nodded.

"Yeah and it’s not like we’re a whole lot of people? It's doable, maybe it's not the wedding of your dreams… bute he’s the man of your dreams, or not?” she looked at Sissy who smiled.

"You're right! Let’s plan!" she said and sat down.

“Alright, first things first. Guests, I need to know how many people we are to find a location… you and Danny and Liam, his family, that’s 5, us, that’s another 5. Wait I text him if he wants to invite any of the other drivers… alright, let’s talk dresses, Shima that’s your part…" I made a note on my phone, then looked up, Sissy and Mum looking at me with big eyes "What?"

"Nothing… you’re doing great, can I go to bed and you do the rest?"Sissy chuckled and I laughed.

"Nope. You figure out what colours you want, what flowers and stuff like that, while I… oh Danny texted… okay, small wedding, only Max, Christian, his wife and Pierre with Kika… that makes… 18?” I checked my phone and wrote down the names.

"Joris?" Mum said and we all grinned at Shima.
"Yes!" Sissy looked at me and I wrote them down.

"I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that…" Shima mumbled and I laughed.

"Oh shut it… you think you’re subtle, but let me tell you, you’re not… whatever is going on with you and him… we know… so 19."

"Whatever… dresses… I know some designers from here, I text them, let’s see what we can organise? I mean, it’s 2am they won’t answer until the morning, but yeah…" Shima began typing away on her phone.

"Alright, I need a time, when do we start?"

I looked at Sissy and Mum.

"Umm-… maybe 6pm? So everyone can have a little sleep, maybe? I mean, it won’t be a big and long ceremony? It’s Vegas, after all it’s going to be fast and funny?" Sissy said and I nodded.

"Okay… so we are… 19 people? Yeah? That’s doable I guess. I go downstairs to check the front desk… ask them if they have like a little ball room? I don’t know? Something fitting for a wedding? You think about dresses and I don’t know, colours? Food? The other stuff…" I got up.

"What other stuff?" Mum asked and I shrugged.

"I don’t know, you’re married, you planned your wedding, so you know what to do…" I left the room, right when Charles called.

"Hows the wedding planning going?" he asked and I laughed.

"I’m on my way to the front desk, asking for a room and someone who can marry them…"

"Elvis might be a good option." Charles laughed.

"Very original- ha ha… no seriously. Maybe they offer like an all inclusive last minute deal? I don’t know… we’re roughly 20 people, it should be organisable, no?" I sighed a little, leaning against the elevator wall "When are you coming back?"

"Soon, we’re just trying on some suits, Danny found a tailor that’s still open, Vegas, I swear… is the dress shopping also this easy?"

"Shima knows some designers from here, she contacted them, but yeah, probably the real process starts in the morning, but it’s fine, we get there." I yawned a little, entering the lobby "Text me when you’re in your way back, I’m at the front desk now."

"Alright, cara mia, see you later!" he hung up and I walked up to the front desk.

"Good morning, Miss Doetterer, how can I help you?" the lady said and smiled at me.

"Umm- this might sound crazy… but I need a room, location, whatever to held a wedding. Ceremony, reception, party all in one place would be amazing. For around 20 people, today at 6pm?" I said cautiously, expecting the blondes smile to drop.

"Oh believe me, this isn’t even close to the craziest things I’ve been asked for in the past… this is Las Vegas after all, planning a wedding in less than… 15 hours? We can do that." she said, her smile got even brighter "Is it for you and Mr. Leclerc then?"

"What? Oh no- no! It’s for my sister and Danny Ric… umm Daniel Ricciardo." I said hastily and she nodded.

"Very well, let’s plan your sister’s one of a kind Las Vegas wedding then."

"Man, I love Vegas. Let’s plan!"

As I watched my sister and Daniel share their first dance as husband and wife I had to smile. We did it. We planned an amazing wedding. The room looked elegant and classy. The cake looked delicious. The flowers were beautiful. But above all Sissy looked stunning. The dress Shima organised and altered here and there was simple, classy and timeless. Liam in his mini suit running around, looking adorable as ever was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Did I mention before how beautiful you look? That dress is just… wow… what a nice little black dress." Charles whispered in my ear, spinning me around, standing behind me.

"You look not to bad yourself, handsome." I chuckled and he hugged me from behind.

"I’m proud of you. You did all that in less than what? 12 hours?" Charles said, putting his chin on my shoulder, swaying us a little.

"The hotel did most of the job, I told them what we wanted, Sissy said the colours and flowers, Shima took care of the dress and Mum took care of the menu. Given all the input to the hotel, they did the biggest chunk of work." I shook my head a little.

"But you were managing it. And you did amazing. It’s a beautiful wedding. Makes me wonder-…" he stopped abruptly and I turned my head a little.

"Makes you wonder what?" I looked at him.

"Makes me wonder how our wedding will be one day… when you have time to plan it for weeks… considering what you did in a couple of hours."

"To find that out, you need to ask me to marry you first." I chuckled.

"Oh, don’t worry cara mia… I’m planning to." he kissed my cheek and then winked at me, before he left, picking Liam up who tried to have a go at the cake "Little munchkin, you have to wait!"

"But I want now some cake! It looks so fluffy and yummy!" Liam pouted.

"You’ll get your slice, don’t worry! You just have to wait a little!" Charles laughed and Liam sighed.

"Okay… but cakes are the best thing at parties, we should eat them first." he grumbled and walked off, climbing in dad’s lap, probably lamenting his suffering.

Liam was right, the cake was just what he said. Fluffy and yummy. After his second slice and some more dancing mum and dad, bid their farwell, taking Liam with them, right when some waiters brought in a couple of new bottles of champagne.

Daniel grabbed a bottle and began shaking it, before he banged it on the table

"I’d say, let’s party!" Danny popped the bottle and the night began with champagne showers.

Pain. A mind-numbing, throbbing pain. Like someone was scratching at my eyeballs from the insides, a jackhammer doing its worst inside my brain. My stomach began to churn and I groaned, trying to untangle my legs from the sheets and Charles legs, his arms holding me tight around the waist.

"Charles… let go of me…" I whispered, a loud snore my answer "Charles I’m serious… I have to…"

"What is it?" he groaned.

"Have to… throw up…" was the only thing I could manage to breathe out when he let go of me immediately and I stumbled out of bed, tripping over something on the floor "Fuck." I crawled to the bathroom, making it just in time to empty my stomach into the toilet.

"Lizzie? Are you okay?" Charles hoarse voice wafting through the fog in my brain.

"Peachy. Just peachy." I mumbled, slowly getting up from the floor rinsing my mouth "I need…"

"What do you need?"

"I don’t know…" I splashed cold water in my face, feeling some short lived relief from the drumming inside my head "I need pain killers…" I grabbed two hand towels and soaked them in cold water, wrung them out and stumbled back to bed, tripping again over something on the floor.

"What the fuck…" I groaned.

"What the fuck…" the something hissed.

"Pierre?" I sat up, blinking

"Yeah?" he mumbled and Charles switched on the night stand lamp.

"What the fuck are you doing on the floor? In our room?" Charles asked, his voice groggy.

"Don’t know. Don’t care. Switch the light off." he turned away, pulling his blanket over his head.

"There’s a couch. Sleep there!" I whispered but saw how he shook his head.

"Floor is cold. Good for my head." he mumbled and I sighed.

"Alright…" I slowly scrambled back to the bed and climbed in, letting the cold towel

flop on Charles face, he flinched but chuckled a little.

"Thanks, cara mia." he moved over and kissed my cheek.

Half sitting, half laying I rummaged through my bag on the nightstand, looking for some painkillers and popped out a pill as soon as I found them, swallowing it down with some water.

"What happened last night?" I whined, lying back, covering my forehead with the cold towel.

"Your sister and Danny Ric got married." Charles yawned.

"Fuck yes they did!" Pierre laughed on the floor.

"And why are we half dead?" I asked.

"Because none of us knows their limit apparently…" Charles groaned.

"Nope." Pierre half laughed half snored "Can we now maybe be quiet for a bit? My head hurts…"

"Here…" I grabbed the painkillers, popped another pill out and threw the blister then at him, followed by a bottle of water rolled over the floor.

"Ouch!" Pierre whined, when the bottle was stopped by his head "Thank you…"

"Here, for you…" I handed Charles a pill.

"You’re an angel." he kissed my cheek and turned around, grabbing his water.

"What are you even doing in our room, Pierre?" I asked, watching him all sprawled out on the floor, cheeks smushed into the cold marble floor.

"I don’t know… we were at the wedding. We were gambling… we were drinking… we were at a club… we were drinking… we were gambling… I remember In’and’Out Burger and then this cute little white house where we took some pictures. And I swear Elvis was there as well…"

"I wouldn’t say no to a burger…" I whispered and Charles chuckled.

"You get one as soon as we get up…" he kissed my shoulder "Which will be soon… our flight is in a couple of hours."

"How much time do we have left?" I yawned.

"Wait… our flight is at 4… and now it’s… it’s almost 12!" Charles sat up and I flinched "Fuck… sorry, cara mia. But we have to pack, get ready and…"

"For fucks sake! We have time! Shut up now…" Pierre groaned.

"Not agreeing how he said it, but agreeing with what he said…" I shrugged, pulling the blanket over my head "30 minutes… come on…"

"30 minutes! Not one minute longer!"

I sighed contently and closed my eyes. Feeling the throbbing in my head subsiding slowly as the cold towel did its job. The loud snores from Pierre were the only disturbance and as I turned to grab one of the pillows beside the bed to throw at him, I touched my phone the screen illuminating half the room and my look fell on the time.

"FUCK! FUCK!" I shouted, Charles and Pierre both flinching and sitting up "We overslept! It’s almost 2!"

"FUCK!" both boys exclaimed.

Pierre scrambled up, trying to stand looking around like a lost puppy.

"Where is my keycard? Why am I even here." he groaned, searching through his pockets "Fuck."

"Call Kika!" I suggested and Pierre took out his phone, calling his girlfriend.

"Okay, let’s pack…" Charles mumbled, opening up our suitcases, throwing in everything he could find "Here…" he threw one of his hoodies at me, while I grabbed some fresh clothes "Get ready in the bathroom, I handle this mess…"

"Hey! I’m no mess!" Pierre looked at him and I chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom.

My vision was still blurry and I sat down on the bathtub edge, brushing my teeth. I stripped off my clothes, put on some socks and leggings before I washed my face. As soon as the second wave of cold water hit my face and I wiped my eyes I looked in the mirror, my eyes immediately falling on the ring on my left ring finger.

"What the fuck…" I gulped, starring at the silver ring.

"Yeah… what the fuck…" Charles walked slowly inside, holding up his left hand, the same ring adorning his finger.

"What the fuck happened last night…"

Chapter 41 - I hope you guys are feeling as hot after reading, as me when I was writing it 🤭 the infamous Las Vegas race giving us really everything there was to get, including one (two?!) wedding(s) … 👀

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

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Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeholt3 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x female driver #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 #cl16 fanfic #cl16 edit #cl16 fic #cl16 imagine #cl16 fluff #formula 1 #formula 1 x female driver #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fandom #formula 1 imagine #f1 #f1 writing #f1 x female driver #f1 fanfic #f1 fiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fandom #female driver #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #Charles and Lizzie

[olderthannetfic]

I think for me, one of the big stumbling blocks I had for a long time with understanding the problem with antis and how they act is that I came from the world of anime fandom, and I have seen all the time how the idea that you're expected to be tolerant and accepting to straight men who are really into lolicon or slavery isekai or whatever in the name of "sex positivity" does in fact lead into a lot of normalization of genuine creepy IRL behavior, and ignoring red flags for those. Because I've never met a man where doing a lot of apologetics for his interest in fictional 10-year-olds as a grown man or why you just need to understand that in this fictional culture sexual slavery is totally normal etc. didn't come along with some grosser attitudes about real women in girls - look at how a ton of the guys in the first group, for instance, are always trying to argue that "Japanese culture" is actually A-OK with relationships between young teens and grown adults and it's just your mean feminist American bias that's getting in your way. (None of that shit's true about Japan, btw.) Like if it were a purely fictional-preference thing, they wouldn't be saying that about real-world relationships as well.

But see, I have literally never seen those kinds of arguments from, say, women who write fanfiction about teen/adult relationships. To me the problem with a lot of anti behavior is not just that it's pro-censorship (which I oppose on principle, I don't think any of the stuff mentioned in the previous section should be censored, for instance, much as the prevalence of lolicon in anime squicks me out) and that it's puritanical and sex-negative, but also that it goes after the wrong people. There IS a huge creeper problem in fandom but it's largely not coming from the predominantly AFAB and queer world of fanfiction and shipping, most of whom are pretty good at separating fantasy from reality. Or their "fucked up" ship might not even be "their" fantasy but just thinking a particular character dynamic is really interesting and it happens to fit into some particular "problematic" broader dynamic. Sometimes it's specifically that it's fucked up that we like, that's what makes it interesting!

But I do get uncomfortable sometimes when people take the fact that censorship is wrong, harassing people for what they ship is wrong, what you like in fiction is not necessarily what you want in real relationships.... and take it to the extreme of "fiction has no impact on reality / there is never ANY connection between what gets you off in fiction vs. real life" (I do think it's rarely an exact 1:1, but for some people there is a connection), or feeling like you're never allowed to just privately judge people for what porn they're into or they talk about or post about when they go horny on main, or decide you don't particularly want to have, say, cis men who are super into loli as a part of your social circle.

Because I've seen cases where men use that, and other people being shamed for taking issue with how they talk about it because it's not "sex positive" or "you're just like an anti" etc., to raise the temperature on what kinds of creepy and red-flag behaviors are allowed. Or like, people start to get suspicious of things these guys are doing to real people, and question themselves because they worry they're just judging them for liking loli.

I mean, is it wrong to think that a guy who is really into underage girls AND talks a lot about how culture needs to "normalize" it AND makes people feel bad for being uncomfortable with that particular interest of his, is throwing up a lot of red flags for how he's likely to view real women and girls and IRL sexuality?

Once again, I've basically never seen cases where a fanfic writer (other than in some cis-man-heavy fandoms like MLP) who is into some "squicky" dynamic feels like they have to constantly talk about it even to people who are uncomfortable, or feels like they're not "accepted" in a space where they can't constantly bring it up. Maybe they exist. But then maybe it's fair to say that behavior is creepy in a way that just peacefully shipping [whatever "problematic" dynamic] and writing and reading fic for it is not.

But I've seen people be like "a lot of you act like 'well that behavior is only problematic when cis het white men do it' well no i think you're still sex-negative if you're against ANYBODY liking it" and like I'm sorry but power dynamics matter, and HOW you talk about this and to WHOM matters and I think it's just kind of ignorant to act like there isn't a huge difference between how a lot of cis men in anime fandom talk about this shit vs. other kinds of people in fanfic fandom, and that the former is very much informed by the fact that cis men and especially cis het men have cultural power that they are throwing around in the way they influence those spaces.

--

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I have been off of Tumblr all day. But I am saddened and sickened to see what I’ve returned to.

I have a genuine love for the people I interact with here. While I have had my differences in the past with people, most have been resolved by talking it out like mature adults in private, so that we can move past it and resume our friendship. As it should be.

I will admit, I have been unkind about people I have had mutual enmity with, where a resolution was not possible and there was ill feeling on both sides. But who is not guilty of that? The post circulated today contains a blend of genuine screenshots, and a lot of ones that have been doctored. For those that converse with me on a regular basis, you’ll be aware of my use of syntax, turns of phrase and general mannerisms of speech. To quote a good friend “this Ange feels very ooc to me.”

To further address the racism, I will hold my hands up and apologise for not speaking out sooner. I have never excused it, simply been avoidant of it because I did not feel safe to speak out. When someone repeatedly uses the p-slur, laughs at your discomfort and continues to do it, claiming it’s fine because they are of mixed race, it’s difficult to know how to respond beyond simply pulling away quietly and hoping it stops.

I didn’t feel safe to speak on it sooner. To be honest, what forced my hand was finding out that I had been doxxed. That was frightening to me, and has very real life consequences. I have since learned that further illegal action has been taken against other users. That’s not something I want to be a part of. No, I can’t excuse racism, and I can’t excuse doxxing and cyberstalking either. If you felt there was a genuine concern for your safety, wouldn’t you want to act on it? Everything that has transpired since is utterly bewildering to me. The level of hatred is atonishing.

I don’t care what happens to me or this blog, if I’m being perfectly honest, but I do care about the feelings of others, and I appreciate that my inaction has hurt people. If your space feels safer without me in it, please feel free to do what you need to do to remedy that.

All I have ever wanted is to write, and to encourage others to contribute towards the community. I genuinely love this fandom and the friends I have made within it, but sometimes when you love stuff you have to let it go. And I am willing to do that if it means people can move on and continue to be creative.

#not an excuse #but an explanation