#Camera from England

[dancuny]

Rajar No. 6 Camera

I don't know what it is about the Rajar No. 6 camera, but ever since I purchased my first McKeown's camera guide more than 40 years ago and spent hours leafing through the pages learning about all the different styles and shapes of cameras, I've always desired to have one in my collection.

 It wasn't until just a few months ago that I pulled the trigger and purchased one from a great reseller in the U.K. It was listed for parts that were not working. The seller was selling the camera for a friend and wasn't sure if it was in good working condition. They mentioned the shutter fired but couldn't guarantee the other working parts of the camera, so I took a chance and purchased it. I don't know why it took so long to get one.

 The shape of the face and the crosshatching on the camera's face drew me to it. It has a very classy and classic look, which is something I find on many cameras made during this timeframe.

 It took a while for the camera to arrive from the U.K., but it arrived last week, and I was anxious to see its physical condition. To my surprise, the camera was not only in excellent physical condition with no chips in the Bakelite, but the shutter was firing, and there was a roll of film still in the camera, which the seller failed to mention, so I was doubly happy.

 I took hold of the film advance knob to see if the film was advancing, and it was so at this point, I didn't see anything wrong with the camera. Not knowing how old the film was, I went outside to take the last few frames on the included old roll of film, and it wasn't until I got to the final frame I found out what was wrong with the camera. 

 I wasn't aware of what was so different in the film spool until I took the film out of the camera, which I needed to do in a dark bag since the camera stopped winding right after I took the final photo on the roll of film included with the camera.

 The Rajar No.6 camera has a special take-up spool written right there on the back of the camera, "only the Rajar No. 6 spool will fit this camera". I saw that when the camera arrived and at first I thought I couldn't shoot with it because it took a different or special size of film. Nope, it's the take-up spool. At least in my camera, the take-up spool is special and has a square tip that fits into the take-up spool instead of a slot that fits into most 120 spools. 

 It appears the Rajar No.6 has a brass item attached to the metal take-up spool that had become loose, making it impossible for the camera to wind the film to the next frame. The drive portion came loose, and the film wouldn't advance anymore. The disconnect of the brass piece and the take-up spool must have happened during the winding of the film, as it was working for a few frames. Another explanation is that the brass portion was stuck to the take-up spool and became loose after the film was with a few frames.

The Company:

Rajar Ltd. was established in 1901 as an offshoot of Brooks-Watson Daylight Camera Company Ltd., which had a facility in Liverpool. The company produced camera film, paper, and Rajar film backs for daylight loading film. In 1904, it moved to Moberly and was renamed Rajar Ltd.

 In 1921, Rajar Ltd. They merged with six other companies to form APM, Amalgamated Photographic Manufacturers Ltd. In London, in 1928, four companies involved in film manufacturing formed APeM, Amalgamated Photographic Equipment Manufacturers Ltd. APeM, which would eventually be rolled into Ilford, which is still one of the major film companies today.

 The Rajar No. 6 camera was introduced in 1929, just a year after APeM started. APeM also produced box camera as well.

The one thing that makes the Rajar No.6 camera unique is that the camera body, faceplate, and back are all made from Bakelite. The Rajar No. 6  was the first camera to have the majority of the camera built with the new material. As I mentioned earlier, it's incredible that after almost 100 years, the Bakelite is still in fabulous condition. There are no chips to be found, and the camera still has the gorgeous shine of the new camera.

My Camera:

My Rajar camera measures 6.5" tall by 4" wide, including the winding key, by 4.5" deep when the camera is extended. My camera weighs 1 lb. 0,6 oz., so the camera is very light. The camera is extremely simple as it has a meniscus lens, and an "Everest" shutter, meaning it doesn't cock. When you move the shutter release from one side to the other, the shutter fires, and then when you move it back, the shutter fires again, so you'll need to wind the film right after taking the photo to avoid double exposures.

There is no aperture setting, as the lens aperture is set to what I'm guessing at F8. The only shutter speed setting is for instant or timed exposures. The Rajar No.6 camera is a strut-style folding camera, which means the camera body pulls away from the body on four chrome rigid arms, as opposed to the traditional folding bed style.

 It took me a few minutes to figure out how to pull the faceplate away from the body, but when I held the camera upside down, the faceplate dropped, and it was easy to pull it away from the body and lock it into position. To close the camera, you only need to pull outward on the four strut corners, and the faceplate folds back into the camera body. There is a small viewfinder on the top of the camera, but this only works for vertical photos. There is no viewfinder for horizontal images unless you tilt your head, which is very uncomfortable.

To open the back of the camera to load film, two clips hold the back onto the camera's body. Just flip back the clips, and the back can be lifted off easily. The Rajar No. 6 camera is a 6x9 format camera and takes eight exposures on a roll of 120 film. Yes, the only difference between the No. 6 spool is the take-up spool. It's not a different film size, as 120 film fits the camera well. I've even seen that Rajar made an adapter to fit onto its square proprietary film take-up end to fit into 120 film spools. I don't have one of the adapters, so I'll need to keep my special take-up spool and reuse it with each roll of film.

My Photos:

Since the take-up spool appeared to be broken and I couldn't pull the film from it, I glued the special square drive area directly onto the metal spool that it was spinning freely on. After waiting an hour or so for the glue to dry, I loaded a roll of 120 film into the camera and onto the special take-up reel. The take-up spool worked wonderfully, and I got through the roll of film without a hitch. In fact, the film transport was extremely smooth.

 Here are some results from walking through my neighborhood with the Rajar No. 6 camera.

Conclusion.

The images have a softness that I find appealing. They are very similar to Lomography-style cameras like the Diana. They seem a bit sharper than a Diana, but the lens has a creamy effect on the images (in my opinion). I enjoy that the corners are rounded on the negatives. I also see that the images extend into the rebate portion of the film's border, as I can see the film name and other information in the image area.

 The camera worked great. The shutter was smooth, and the film transport was even smoother. Once I glued the two pieces together and dropped the film into the camera, the photo-taking experience went flawlessly.

 The camera is compact, rugged, and a real "point-and-shoot" style camera. I aimed the camera for horizontal images and figured the lens on the camera was most likely for wide images, which proved to be true.

 Thank you for taking a few minutes to read about this fun and easy camera to shoot with.

 I'd love to hear from you, so if you have any experience with this camera or any of the others I've written about, please email me.

 Until next week, please be safe.

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

feel free to put location/area in the tags

[gaytobymeres]

no one:

someone from yorkshire: im from yorkshire

[day-mark]

I thought tommy wasnt at that creator clash and just heard the story from jack via a call or something? 1:20:30 at "Tommy Plays Minecraft with Technoblade's Dad AGAIN..." heres the clip of what he said and I think you're right actually

fhdjdhs im not willing to listen to his voice for this but ill take ur word for it 😭

u know what maybe we're looking at this the wrong way and jm is the real potential problem here bc im a lot more confident that jack will start shit than i am with tommy 💀

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Cranberries - Zombie 1994

"Zombie" is a protest song by Irish alternative rockband the Cranberries. It was written by the lead singer, Dolores O'Riordan, about the young victims of a bombing in Warrington, England, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The song was released on 19 September 1994 as the lead single from the Cranberries' second studio album, No Need to Argue. While the record label feared releasing a too controversial and politically charged song as a single, "Zombie" reached number 1 on the charts of Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, and Iceland, and spent nine consecutive weeks at number 1 on the French SNEP Top 100. It reached number 2 on the Ö3 Austria Top 40, where it stayed for eight weeks. The song did not chart on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart as it wasn't released as a single there, but it reached number 1 on the US Billboard Alternative Airplay chart. Listeners of the Australian radio station Triple J voted it number 1 on the 1994 Triple J Hottest 100 chart, and it won the Best Song Award at the 1995 MTV Europe Music Awards.

The Troubles were a conflict in Northern Ireland from the late 1960s to 1998. The Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), an Irish republican paramilitary organisation, waged an armed campaign to end British rule in Northern Ireland and unite the region with the Republic of Ireland. Republican and Unionist paramilitaries killed more than 3,500 people, many from thousands of bomb attacks. One of the bombings happened on 30 March 1993, as two IRA improvised explosive devices hidden in litter bins were detonated in a shopping street in Warrington, England. Two people; Johnathan Ball, aged 3, and Tim Parry, aged 12, were killed in the attack. 56 people were injured. Ball died at the scene of the bombing as a result of his shrapnel-inflicted injuries, and five days later, Parry lost his life in a hospital as a result of head injuries. O'Riordan decided to write a song that reflected upon the event and the children's deaths after visiting the town: "We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that's why I was saying, 'It's not me' – that even though I'm Irish it wasn't me, I didn't do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension." The song was re-popularised in 2023 after it was played after Ireland games at the 2023 Rugby World Cup. It was picked up by fans of the Irish team, with videos of fans singing the song in chorus accumulating hundreds of thousands of views on social media. This offended other Irishmen, who identified it as an "anti-IRA" anthem, and said that that the lyrics failed to consider their experience during the Troubles.

The music video, directed by Samuel Bayer, was filmed in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in the heart of the Troubles with real footage, and in Dublin. To record video footage of murals, children and British Army soldiers on patrol, he had a false pretext, with a cover story about making a documentary about the peace-keeping efforts in Ireland. Bayer stated that a shot in the video where an SA80 rifle is pointed directly at the camera is a suspicious British soldier asking him to leave, and that the IRA were keeping a close look at the shoot, given "the British Army come in with fake film crews, getting people on camera.” While "Zombie" received heavy rotation on MTV Europe and was A-listed on Germany's VIVA, the music video was banned by the BBC because of its "violent images", and by the RTÉ, Ireland's national broadcaster. Instead, both the BBC and the RTÉ opted to broadcast an edited version focusing on footage of the band in a live performance, a version that the Cranberries essentially disowned. Despite their efforts to maintain the original video "out of view from the public", some of the initial footage prevailed, with scenes of children holding guns. In March 2003, on the eve of the outbreak of the Iraq War, the British Government and the Independent Television Commission issued a statement saying ITC's Programme Code would temporarily remove from broadcast songs and music videos featuring "sensitive material", including "Zombie". Numerous media groups complied with the decision to avoid "offending public feeling", along with MTV Europe. Since it violated the ITC guidelines, "Zombie" was placed on a blacklist of songs, targeting its official music video. The censorship was lifted once the war had ended. In April 2020, it became the first song by an Irish group to surpass one billion views on Youtube.

"Zombie" received a total of 91% yes votes!

[teaboot]

TOP 10 PERSONAL FAVE MOVIES TO WATCH WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE ASS

I don't like movies that stress me out because life is already stressful but I DO love catharsis comedy found family friendship fantasy and violence so here are my top 10 movies and series to have a good time watching

Numbered for convenience but not in any particular order

John Wick 1 and 2: An ordinary man grieving the loss of his wife gets dragged back into his past as a shadowy, invisible world of international killers for hire is slowly revealed to be living among us. A love note to set design, lighting, and choreography. My favourite part is fixating on the symbolism. DO NOT WATCH 3. 4 is okay. DO NOT WATCH 3. There is a dog death in 1 that will make you cry so skip that part if you have to. DO NOT WATCH 3.

The lord of the Rings, all 3, extended edition best watched if you're on the couch with the flu and expect to fall asleep OR if it's your day off and it's raining outside OR if you have like 5 people lounging around in pajamas

Six Underground: Essentially an hour and a half long car commercial music video with found family and a fresher take on acommon plot. Ryan Reynolds essentially writes and directs a Michael Bay movie where 6 independant criminals gather together to overthrow a violent foreign dictatorship. You show up for a dumb heist and walk out ready to build a guillotine. TW for violence, car crashes, chemical warfare, and genocide. A very cathartic ending. Does unfortunately do the whole "vague, impoverished middle-eastern country" thing but the citizens are actually show as human beings which is a nice change of pace and oh wow that's depressing isn't it

The Princess Diaries 1 and 2: A sort-of-a-loser teenage girl, played by a 2001 Annie Hathaway, learns that her late father was a king of a foreign nation and must become a confident and responsible leader for his people. There is a scene in the rain where you will experience emotions. Best watched with snacks. 2 features an enemies-to-lovers type deal with Chris Pine.

Ella Enchanted: A shrek-style semi-musical fantasy romance in which a young woman is cursed at birth to do everything anyone tells her to do. Features several Queen songs and dance numbers sung by Annie Hathaway and that guy who plays the sad dog guy in Hannibal.

Stardust: A huge loser travels from 1800s England (?) to a magical world in order to fetch a fallen star for the insufferable love of his life before she marries a massive douchebag. The huge loser? Charlie Cox. The star? A living person. Also a whole bunch of princes are ALSO looking for them as a race for the throne while discreetly killing each other off. And also a bunch of witches want to eat her so they can be young and sexy. 11/10. I used to watch this 10 minutes at a time on a YouTube channel that posted it in chunks filmed on a digital camera in their living room

The Last Holiday: Queen Latifah, playing someone played by Queen Latifah, has been working an underappreciated minimum wage job for years, living a safe and conservative life trying to lose weight and save money. Then she finds out she has months to live, and decides to finally quit her job and blow it all on one massive luxury holiday vacation complete with five-star dining, making friends and finding love and confidence along the way. It's definitely corny but it makes me so happy thank you Queen Latifah

Zathura: It's the plot to the original Jumanji but in space instead of the rainforest. But listen to me: There's a twist reveal at the end that you need to pretend isn't there. It is vitally important when you get to that part- and you will know what part when it happens- that you pretend it didn't. Otherwise, a fresh and enjoyable adventure for any age!

Redacted cause I haven't seen it in a long time and it may be worse than I remember, gotta rewatch

Bullet Train. You go in expecting a ham-fisted find-the-mcguffin style action comedy and are blindsided by excellent narrative symmetry and genuinely likeable characters. Fresh takes on old themes and creative action sequences. My little brother said "It's good", and he's a man who once sincerely argued that Lord of the Rings could have been better. It's fun and punchy violence with just enough smart stuff to not let your brain get bored

[cheftsunoda]

hiiii i love your works, especially your poly ones! i don’t really know your guidelines but i cannot get this idea out of my head! could you do a poly fic with alex and charles where reader is a performer at the f175? it could have inspiration from any singer you’d like (though i think tate mcrae would work WONDERS) thank you!!!!

taste — cl16 + alexandra saint mleux

smau + blurbs

charles leclerc x!singer reader x alexandra saint mleux

yn is skeptical when asked to perform at the f175 event— she doesn’t know much about f1, she feels like her songs are maybe a little too much for a classy event. however, after much convincing from her manager and her assistant she agrees— which would be the best move she’s ever made.

fc : sabrina carpenter

(a/n) : hi anonnn! thank u for the love and support. i almost picked tate and then i could not shake the idea i got so— i had to pick sabrina:) i hope you enjoy cutie pieee🩷

also two posts in one day?? who am i? being productive for once:)

—

yourstruly_yn

london, england 📍

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, lando & 5,109,004 others.

yourstruly_yn : lets hear a little commotion for the dress 🗣️ but in all seriousness i had so much fun at the F175 event last night— thank you @/f1 for having me and i hope no one noticed how sweaty and nervous i was around all the attractive people! YAYYYYYYYY

—

view 290,021 other comments.

username0 : she is so real for that caption

↳ username10 : she kills me bc she is also hot as hell like girl— they probably have a crush on you too

↳ lando : we do

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ username0 : aadsjsf lando

username15 : yn!! who was your favorite??

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : they were all incredibly kind but charles and carlos are incredibly charming…

liked by charles_leclerc and carlossainz55

oscarpiastri : i think my girlfriend got more excited to meet you than she ever was about me

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : she is the cutest on the planet🤍 nice to meet you both!

liked by oscarpiastri and lilyzneimer

↳ lilyzneimer : omg i love you yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : love you moreeeee

lando : if you think you were nervous— you should’ve seen ollie ten seconds after you gave him a hug. he wouldn’t move.

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ olliebearman : lando i stg

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ lando : you’re his celebrity crush 🤐

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ olliebearman : i am literally gonna slash your tires. im embarrassed.

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : don’t be embarrassed cutie pie. if it helps i couldn’t tell you were nervous hehe

liked by olliebearman

↳ kimi.antonelli : you broke him. he is smiling and wont blink

liked by yourstruly_yn and lando

carlossainz55 : tan hermosa, mi amor💙 blue means you are a williams fan, no?

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : i like whichever team invites me to the paddock first

↳ scuderiaferrari : HEYYYY YNNNN

↳ williamsracing : guaranteed she’s a williams fan!

↳ redbullracing : blue means REDBULLLLLL

↳ mercedesamgf1 : YN PLS WE R BEGGING

↳ alpinef1team : come with us yn PLEASEEEEE

↳ yourstruly_yn : ferrari it is then ❤️💛

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

↳ lando : someone fire the mclaren admin. r you even working???

↳ mclaren : i have feelings yanno?

alexandrasaintmleux : you are absolutely stunning and such a great performer! loved meeting you 🤍

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : omg says you. you are literally so beautiful. i was nervous to talk to YOU.

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

maxverstappen1 : you managed to make this event that i did not want to attend— tolerable— and i thank you for that:)

liked by yourstruly_yn

charles_leclerc : incroyable😻🤍

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ username15 : OMGGGGGG

username22 : did anyone see how alex and charles looked at her?? the camera kept panning over to them during her performance

↳ username14 : yes omg i thought it was just me

—

The second my heels hit the red carpet, I felt my soul leave my body. The flashes were relentless, fans were screaming my name, and somewhere behind me, my assistant—Jules—was whispering “Posture, babe! Chin up! Shoulders back! Breathe!” like I wasn’t already trying not to pass out from the nerves. I tugged my dress down slightly—custom, couture, and tight—and smiled for the cameras, praying they couldn’t see how badly my palms were sweating.

“You’re good,” Jules whispered, stepping just behind me, clipboard and chaos in tow. “You look like a goddess. You sound like a legend. And every single man in a race suit just turned to stare.”

I laughed under my breath and turned my head slowly. Sure enough. A wall of F1 drivers stood just a few steps ahead—all of them in slick tuxes. And every. Single. One. of them was watching me like I was the main event. God help me.

Charles Leclerc, standing with his girlfriend Alexandra, gave me a soft smile. One of those movie-star ones, with the head tilt. Smooth. Alexandra gave me a subtle once-over, biting her lip and nodding slightly like she approved.

Lando Norris nudged Oscar Piastri and whispered something, and Oscar blinked twice like he’d forgotten how conversation worked. I gave them a little wave and watched as Oscar physically recoiled in shyness while Lando just grinned and mouthed, “Hi.”

Pierre Gasly winked. Subtle like a sledgehammer. And then—

“Hi. Um. Hi.”

I turned and found Ollie Bearman. Sweet baby Ollie. Standing just off to the side with wide eyes and flushed cheeks like I’d personally descended from the heavens.

My assistant whispered, “That’s the one who listed you as his celebrity crush on a podcast.”

Oh my god. He’s even cuter in person. I stepped toward him slowly, letting the cameras click away, and smiled wide.

“Hi, Ollie, right?” I asked softly. “I heard I might be your celebrity crush.”

His whole face went scarlet.

“Uh—I mean—yeah! Yeah, I mean—wow, this is so weird, I didn’t think you’d, like, actually know—oh god,” he rambled.

I couldn’t help it—I opened my arms. “C’mere, then.”

He blinked. “Wait—like—a hug? Right now? In front of—everyone?”

“Unless you don’t want one?”

“I DO,” he said way too fast, stepping forward like his feet were moving on autopilot.

I gave him a gentle hug, careful not to crush the front of my dress, and felt his heart pounding through his suit. When we pulled back, he looked like he might cry or combust.

“You’re doing great,” I whispered with a wink. “Can’t wait to watch your rookie season.”

He made a choked noise that might’ve been a thank you—or possibly a prayer.

And somewhere behind me, I swear I heard Jules mutter, “You just made that poor boy’s year.”

As we walked into the venue, I could still feel the heat of all those driver stares and Ollie’s stunned silence behind me.

I leaned toward Jules. “Okay but what is in the water at Ferrari? Because damn.”

—

“Okay,” Jules said, sticking a protein bar into my hand. “You’ve got fifteen minutes before you go out, your dress is still flawless, and I bribed hair and makeup with champagne to stay on standby. Now come stress-stalk the hot ones with me.”

I took a bite of the bar and followed her to the side curtain. We peeked out like two teenage girls spying on the cool kids at prom. Except the cool kids were all F1 drivers. And actual gods.

“I mean,” Jules whispered, “look at them. It’s like the Avengers of being sexy and emotionally unavailable.”

She pointed with the subtlety of a brick wall. “There’s George Russell looking like a romance villain. Carlos is definitely flirting with that engineer. Lando’s doing finger guns. Why is he always doing finger guns?”

I choked on my protein bar. “Because he is Lando.”

Then Jules nudged me. “And look. Center of the room. Ferrari. Your favorite brand of thirst.”

I leaned in and—yep. There they were. Charles, glass in hand, relaxed and charming as ever, laughing at something Lewis said. And next to him, Alexandra in a floor-length black gown that looked like liquid obsidian, eyes scanning the room like she was bored of everyone. God help me, I had a problem.

“Okay,” I whispered. “You know how I said I had a tiny crush on Charles?”

Jules gave me side-eye. “Yes. You also said you’d let him ruin you.”

“Well,” I said, dragging the word out, “I might… also have a thing for Alexandra. Like. A very serious thing.”

Jules blinked. “So… double Ferrari crush?”

“I’m panicking.”

“Don’t panic. Just flirt back. They’re both clearly into you.”

“No, they’re not—”

I froze mid-sentence. Alexandra had turned. She was looking right at us through the curtain. Like she knew. Her eyes met mine, and for a second I thought she might wave or say something—Instead, she smirked and winked.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

Jules lost it beside me, half-screaming into her sleeve. “SHE WINKED. YN. SHE WINKED. THAT WAS SEXUAL.”

“I think I blacked out for a second,” I muttered. “Was that real? Did that just happen?”

“Do you want me to slap you or get you water?”

“Neither. Just bury me in this curtain.”

We both ducked back behind the fabric, clutching each other like we’d seen a ghost. A hot, model-tier, vaguely intimidating ghost who might be flirting with me in front of her F1 driver boyfriend.

I blinked slowly. “I’m going to combust on stage. If I pass out mid-song, tell the crowd it was from artistic overwhelm.”

Jules just grinned. “You’re about to have both a Ferrari driver and his impossibly hot girlfriend wrapped around your finger. Honestly? Diva behavior. Proud of you.”

—

The lights dimmed, and the crowd quieted like someone had flipped a switch. One golden spotlight bloomed at center stage. I stepped into it slowly, heels silent on the slick black floor, the slit in my gown cutting dangerously high, the corset cinched just enough. The strings swelled, slow and seductive. The first lyric left my lips like a whisper laced with smoke. I let the silence hang between each word—like a dare. I wasn’t rushing tonight. No big notes. No high belts. Just something slow, smooth, sultry. Velvet draped in starlight. The kind of performance you don’t just watch—you feel. I found them in the crowd within seconds.

Charles.

Back straight. Head tilted. Watching me like he was trying to memorize the lines of my body, the way my hand slid slowly down my hip, the exact pitch of my voice when I purred through the second chorus. He looked dazed. Like I was singing directly into his bloodstream. And Alexandra?

God. She was absolutely still—spine like a string of pearls, lips parted ever so slightly, eyes locked on mine. No smile. Just hunger. It wasn’t even subtle. Her gaze was heavy, almost possessive, like she was deciding how I’d taste.

I sang the bridge soft and breathy, leaning into the mic like it was a secret. I let the hem of my gown fall back just enough to reveal the shimmer of my leg, and Alexandra’s fingers twitched around her champagne glass.

I saw her lean over. Whisper something to Charles. He smirked. He didn’t look away from me when he did it. When the final note hit—drawn out and decadent—the lights dropped. Silence. Then an eruption. Applause. Cheering. The kind that shakes the floor and rings in your ribs. I exhaled for the first time in three minutes. Backstage, Jules was waiting with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“You witch,” she breathed. “I just watched Charles Leclerc forget how to breathe. And Alexandra? Babe. She looked like she wanted to eat you alive.”

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to slow my heartbeat. “So… it went okay?”

Jules laughed. “They’re both going to find you before this night’s over. And I’m betting you’re not going home alone.”

I sighed and took a drink of water and started to get changed into my evening gown. Hair and makeup came in to touch me up. I stood up, checking myself in the mirror and smiled.

Jules nudged me. “Go be charming. Make the rounds. Let the world bask in the glow of your slay.”

So I did. Smile on, perfume lingering behind me like a trail of sin, I moved from driver to driver like it was a party game.

George kissed my hand and told me I “redefined elegance.” Lando was sweet talking me as he tried to get me to sit in his lap. Oscar blushed so hard I thought someone should check his temperature.

But it was Ollie who melted my entire heart. He nearly knocked over his glass trying to stand up straight. “Hi. You—uh. I mean. That was—like—wow. You’re…”

I smiled and opened my arms, and he just melted into a hug like a starstruck golden retriever.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “You’re very sweet.”

When I pulled back, he was blinking fast, cheeks flushed pink, like he couldn’t decide whether to pass out or propose. Jules was already filming. But then—then—I turned and saw them.

Charles and Alexandra. Still together. Still impossibly composed. Still looking at me like I was the most fascinating thing in the room. I smoothed my gown even though it didn’t need smoothing and took a slow breath before making my way over.

“Hello,” I said, somehow keeping my voice light despite the fact that my soul had already left my body.

“Bonsoir,” Charles echoed, eyes raking over me in that maddeningly slow way. “You were…” He exhaled. “Incredible.”

“She knows,” Alexandra said, her voice soft and low, like silk drawn across bare skin. “She had every man in the room losing his mind.”

I blinked. “I was just… singing.”

Charles tilted his head. “That was not just singing.”

And Alexandra? She leaned in a little, close enough that I could smell her perfume—jasmine and something warmer, richer. “I think you know exactly what you were doing.”

I laughed—nervously, stupidly. “Are you flirting with me?”

Alexandra smiled. Slow. Dangerous. “Do you want me to be?”

My brain short-circuited. “I—”

Charles stepped in, just a little, voice low and amused. “You look like you might need another drink.”

“I need a tranquilizer.” I muttered under my breath.

Alexandra’s eyes sparkled. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m—” I touched my cheek. Burning.

She grinned. “Blushing. And glowing. It’s a very good look.”

Charles offered me a glass of champagne. “For recovery.”

I took it. My fingers brushed his. I didn’t recover.

—

I was mid-sip of champagne, trying to cool down both physically and emotionally, when I felt a soft hand brush against mine. Not urgent. But deliberate. Alexandra. She leaned in like she was about to whisper something, her breath tickling just beneath my ear.

“Come with me for a second?”

Not a question. A gentle command wrapped in silk. I didn’t even think—I just nodded. She slid her hand down to my wrist and guided me through the edge of the ballroom, past glittering gowns and conversations I couldn’t hear, until we slipped into a quiet hallway behind the venue. Dim lights. Velvet-lined walls. The faint hum of the music muted behind gold-trimmed doors. And then she stopped. Turned. Faced me.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” she said, eyes trailing down my figure like I wasn’t real.

I swallowed. “I’m just a pop star with stage fright.”

She laughed—low, rich. “No, you’re a woman who walked onstage and hypnotized a room full of people… including my boyfriend.”

My breath hitched. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, I’m not upset.” She stepped closer. “He hasn’t looked at someone like that in a long time. But neither have I.”

I blinked. “Alexandra…”

“I’m not trying to scare you,” she said, voice softening. “I just wanted a moment. With you. Away from the cameras. Away from Charles, even.”

That surprised me.

“You did something to me up there,” Alexandra said, eyes burning into mine. “The way you moved. Sang. Looked at us. Like you knew we were watching.”

“I did know,” I whispered.

Her lips curled slightly, like she liked that answer. Like it confirmed something for her She stepped even closer. Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, the delicate scent of her perfume curling around me like silk.

“Do you always make it this hard to look away from you?”

“No,” I murmured. “Just tonight.”

Just for you.

Her hand moved slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, knuckles grazing the curve of my jaw. I was holding my breath without realizing it. And then—softly, like she was testing gravity—she leaned in. Her lips brushed mine. Barely. A whisper of contact. Warm. Careful. Intentional. I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just… felt. The way her mouth lingered against mine for a second longer than necessary. The quiet intake of her breath. The soft press of her palm to the side of my face as she deepened the kiss just slightly, like she wanted to make sure I understood this wasn’t an accident.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were darker. Focused. Her thumb brushed my cheekbone gently.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you,” she said.

My heart was hammering so loud I was afraid she’d hear it.

Then, from the end of the hallway—

“Alex?”

Charles. Her gaze flicked toward the sound—but only for a moment. When she looked back at me, she smiled. Not a flirty smile. A promise.

She tucked another curl behind my ear and said, low and soft, “We’re not done.”

And then she turned—just like that—and disappeared back into the light. I didn’t move for a full thirty seconds.

—

“JULES!”

I stormed back into the green room, nearly tripping over the train of my dress as I slammed the door shut and pressed my back against it like I was being chased.

Jules whipped around mid-text, wide-eyed. “Oh my god. What happened?”

“She kissed me,” I hissed, clutching my clutch like it might save me from cardiac arrest.

Jules blinked. “Charles?”

“No. Alexandra.”

Her phone clattered onto the vanity. “YOU’RE KIDDING—”

“She pulled me into the hallway, told me I was dangerous, and then she kissed me like- like—l”

Jules let out a sound that could only be described as a strangled squeal. “On the mouth??”

“No, Jules, she kissed me on the elbow—YES ON THE MOUTH.” I paced wildly, nearly running into the rack of backup dresses. “And then she smiled and said, ‘We’re not done.’ Like she didn’t just light my entire nervous system on fire.”

Jules grinned. “I told you you were the main character tonight.”

“I thought she was going to slap me for seducing her boyfriend with my eye contact and instead she kissed me like she was the one seduced!”

Before Jules could reply, a gentle knock sounded on the door.

I froze. “That’s either the PR team coming to fire me or Charles coming to duel.”

Jules arched a brow and opened the door like she’d been waiting for this moment her entire life. Charles and Alexandra stood there. Unbothered. Gorgeous. Slightly glowing. Like they knew what they were doing.

“Uh-Hello,” Charles said, eyes locking with mine immediately.

Alexandra’s smile was soft, unreadable. “We didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not,” Jules chirped, already stepping aside like the most chaotic wingwoman. “I was just about to force her to drink water and sit down before she passed out.”

Charles tilted his head slightly, amused. “Would it be alright if we stole her for a little while?”

I blinked. “You want to…?”

Alexandra took a step closer, voice calm and warm. “The event is over. We were thinking of getting a drink. Something quieter. Off-site.”

Her gaze lingered on my lips just a second too long.

“Only if you’d like to come,” Charles added, his tone deceptively casual, but the way he looked at me, sharp and curious, told a different story. I stared at both of them. This glittering, impossible couple who had just casually invited me into… something. Jules behind me was vibrating.

“I—” I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I’d… like that.”

Alexandra smiled like she already knew I’d say yes. Charles offered me his hand.

And as I placed mine in his, I whispered over my shoulder to Jules, “If I don’t come back, tell the label I died doing what I loved.”

She winked. “Getting kissed by dangerously attractive people?”

“Exactly.”

—

The hotel suite was too perfect. One of those penthouse setups, city skyline visible through floor-to-ceiling windows, jazz playing faintly from somewhere. There was a tray of cocktails already set out, like they’d planned this. Because they probably had.

“Pick your poison,” Charles offered, already shrugging off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

Alexandra was by the window, slipping off her heels, her back arched just enough to make my throat go dry.

“I—uh, anything’s fine,” I managed.

She handed me a coupe glass with something pale and sparkling inside. “This one’s sweet. You strike me as someone who likes the bite underneath the sugar.”

My brain short-circuited. “Sure. That’s… accurate.”

We sat. Alexandra beside me. Charles across. Too far to touch—but not too far to stare. And he was staring.

“Your performance,” he said, swirling his drink slowly, “was magnetic.”

My face was hot. “Thank you.”

“No,” Alexandra chimed in, eyes not leaving mine, “You don’t understand. The way you held the room. The way you held us. It wasn’t just good. It was…” She paused. “Deliberate.”

I blinked. “You noticed that?”

“We notice everything,” Charles said, voice quiet. “Especially you.”

The air shifted. Subtle, but immediate. I took a slow sip of my drink to fill the silence, only to realize I’d already downed most of it. Alexandra gently took the glass from my hand, setting it on the table without breaking eye contact.

“Can I ask you something?” she said. I nodded.

“Have you been thinking about it all night?” Her voice was like velvet. “The kiss.”

“Yes,” I breathed. Instinctive. Honest.

Charles leaned forward slightly. “Good.”

I felt like I was floating. Or falling. Or both.

He stood, walked toward us, and crouched down in front of me, his eyes gentle but dark with something heavier. “And if I kissed you right now?”

My breath hitched. “I don’t think I’d stop you.”

He smiled—something slow and real—and then his lips met mine. Warm. Curious. Steady. Alexandra’s hand slid along my thigh as he kissed me, her touch grounding and electric at once. And when Charles finally pulled back, she was right there, her kiss softer this time, more familiar, like a secret.

They didn’t rush. Didn’t overwhelm. They just… took their time. Kissing me. Touching me. Watching me fall apart slowly between them.

At some point, Charles whispered, “You’re shaking.”

I laughed—breathless and bright. “I’m overwhelmed.”

Alexandra tucked her face into my neck, her lips brushing my skin. “Then let us take care of you.”

And they did. Together. All night.

—

I woke up somewhere between silk sheets and a mild existential crisis. The first thing I felt was the ache in my body—gentle, sweet, and impossible to ignore. The second was the arm draped across my waist, warm and possessive. The third was panic. Because oh my god I had slept with both Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux. Like… actually slept with them. Not a dream. Not a delusion. Not a spicy fanfic my brain invented mid-tour. Real.

I very gently peeled Charles’ arm off me and slid out of bed in a tangle of limbs and regret-tinged euphoria. Alexandra shifted slightly, her face still angelic against the pillow, hair loose and wild. I was doomed.

I threw on my robe and tiptoed into the living room of the suite like I was escaping a crime scene. I grabbed my phone from the couch and immediately dialed Jules. She picked up on the second ring.

“Did you die?” she asked, voice still scratchy with sleep.

“I think I’m in a romantic crisis,” I whispered. “A sexy, slow-burn, European art film kind of crisis.”

There was a pause. “Where are you?”

“Charles and Alexandra’s hotel suite.”

“NO.”

“Yes.”

“YOU DID NOT—”

“I did!” I hissed. “And I liked it! But now I don’t know if it was just a one-night thing or if I imagined all the feelings or if they’re going to ghost me and continue being a power couple while I spiral into a ball of public humiliation and inner monologue hell!”

Jules let out a long, slow whistle. “Okay. Breathe. Did they say anything this morning?”

“I didn’t wait for anyone to wake up! I ran like a Victorian mistress fleeing the manor after an illicit affair!”

Suddenly, I felt arms wrap slowly, carefully, around my waist. My soul left my body. Charles’ voice was quiet, close, still rough from sleep. “You’re not a mistress, chérie. You’re the one we couldn’t stop thinking about all night.”

I turned so slowly. Charles looked impossibly good for someone who had just woken up—hair messy, eyes soft, mouth still curved in that stupidly charming half-smile.

“I—hi.”

He smiled. “Hi.”

Then Alexandra appeared in the doorway, wrapped in her robe, leaning against the frame like the muse of every chaotic bisexual daydream I’d ever had.

“You left the bed,” she said, eyes on me. “I was almost offended.”

“I was panicking,” I admitted. “Respectfully.”

Charles chuckled softly. “We figured you might.”

I blinked. “So… it wasn’t just a moment?”

Alexandra came closer, gently brushing a piece of hair from my face. “It was everything but just a moment.”

Charles nodded, his hand still holding my waist. “We’ve been watching you all night. Not just on stage. Every laugh, every glance. We didn’t want one night. We want more.”

My breath caught. “You’re serious?”

“Very,” Alexandra murmured, eyes locked on mine.

I bit my lip. “I just—I didn’t want to assume, and this morning felt like I was living in an A24 film with no context.”

Charles grinned. “Then let’s give it context.”

Alexandra laced her fingers through mine. “Let us take you to breakfast. Talk. Figure this out… together.”

I nodded. Maybe too quickly.

“And can Jules come?” I asked. “She’ll explode otherwise.”

Charles laughed. “She can interrogate us over coffee.”

Alexandra smirked. “We’re not scared.”

I smiled, a little shaky, a little high on everything.

—

I was already seated at the rooftop restaurant by the time Jules arrived, but I heard her before I saw her—heels sharp against the stone floor, her sigh loud enough to part the clouds above London. She slid into the seat beside me, sunglasses still on, expression unreadable.

“I need someone to explain to me, right now, why I woke up alone in a hotel bed while you were off having a ménage à trois with Monaco’s golden boy and someone with the face of a literal angel.”

Charles chuckled beside me. Alexandra just sipped her coffee.

I closed my eyes. “Jules, please.”

“No, no, I’m calm. I’m totally fine. Just wondering if I need to make laminated flashcards for your next PR disaster so I can keep up.”

Alexandra reached across the table, gentle and poised. “I’m sorry we surprised you.”

Jules finally took her sunglasses off, blinking like she was assessing a very expensive art piece. “Surprise isn’t the word I’d use. Ambush, maybe. Sexy ambush.”

Charles looked amused. “Would you like to ask us anything?”

Jules leaned back, folding her arms. “Are you in love with her?”

The silence was instant. Clean. Like air being vacuumed out of the sky. My fork clinked softly against the edge of my plate.

Alexandra didn’t flinch. “I think we’re at the beginning of something that could become that.”

Charles nodded, his voice quiet. “We didn’t plan it. But we felt it. And we’re not walking away from it.”

Jules turned to me. “And you?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what it is yet. But it didn’t feel casual. Not even for a second.”

There was a long pause before Jules exhaled.

“Well,” she said, “as long as you don’t get your heart broken without me being there to destroy someone’s car, I guess I’ll allow it.”

Charles raised his brows. “Noted.”

Alexandra smiled, then turned to me. “Did you really think we’d ghost you?”

“I didn’t know what to think,” I admitted. “I woke up and it felt like—like maybe it wasn’t real. Or maybe it was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t,” Charles said simply.

“It was a beginning,” Alexandra added.

I looked between them. Both beautiful. Both grounded. Both looking at me like they weren’t going anywhere. I leaned into Jules for a second, like I needed one last anchor to who I was before all this. And then I looked back at them.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s see where this goes.”

Alexandra reached for my hand. Charles smiled like the sun had just risen for the first time. And Jules, of course, flagged down the waiter.

“If YN is showing emotionally vulnerable today,” she muttered, “I’m going to need another cappuccino and a pain au chocolat. Stat.”

—

yourstruly_yn

liked by lando, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux & 5,090,002 others.

yourstruly_yn : i leave quite an impression…5 feet to be exact ;)

—

view 389,002 other comments.

julesss : hey. from a pr standpoint not a bestie standpoint — i thought we agreed to warn me before soft launch was initiated.

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : was hoping since you love me so much you wouldn’t care

↳julesss : blah blah

lando : can the man on slide 4 fight

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : idk if he can fight but he can certainly toss me around

liked by charles_leclerc

alexandrasaintmleux : you. are. unreal. 😻

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : my goddess. i love you

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

↳ username00 : is that alex in the first pic?? ↳username10 : i believe so but who is the MANNNN??

↳ username15 : plot twist : it’s charles?

↳ username00 : delusion

pierregasly : finally someone in the paddock shorter than yuki

liked by yourstruly_yn

↳ yourstruly_yn : us short ppl still together. leave that man alone.

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : YEAH LEAVE ME ALONE.

—

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by yourstruly_yn, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc & 875,021 others.

alexandrasaintmleux : in love with love.

—

view 82,090 other comments.

charles_leclerc : lucky me 💐🤍

liked by yourstruly_yn and alexandrasaintmleux

yourstruly_yn : this is so cute. you are so cute. i am obsessed.

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

julesss : aw omg

liked by yourstruly_yn and alexandrasaintmleux

↳ username00 : jules??

↳ username15 : isn’t that yn in the third pic??

↳ username8 : i think so

↳ username7 : who is in that second pic?? yn and charles…

↳ username00 : delusional

↳ username11 : charles was seen wearing that exact outfit the other day

↳ username00 : why would alex allow that though?? let alone take a picture of it.

arthur_leclerc : i think it is time for me to meet this mysterious blonde.

liked by yourstruly_yn, alexandrasaintmleux and charles_leclerc

—

f1gossipgirls

890,374 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Uh Oh! Trouble in Paradise? Charles Leclerc was seen out in Monaco last night kissing none other than YN LN. As far as we know Charles is still in a relationship with, Alexandra Saint Mleux, who has grown close with YN LN recently. Charles caught in another cheating scandal? Not shocked.

—

username0 : oh poor alex

username8 : i always thought yn was better than this

username10 : yn really befriended alex to steal her man. disgusting behavior.

username15 : y’all are all blaming yn when charles is a known cheater. it takes two.

username17 : oh boyyyyy.

—

twitter!

Coming two days after cheating rumors— Pop star YN just dropped a new music video, and it’s already broken the internet. The sultry visual stars none other than Alexandra Saint Mleux — longtime girlfriend of F1 driver Charles Leclerc — in a steamy, intimate role alongside YN herself. The two share lingering touches, smoldering glances, and yes… a full-on kiss halfway through the video. And just when fans thought they couldn’t scream any louder, Charles Leclerc makes a surprise cameo at the very end — leaning in a doorway, watching the two walk away, hand in hand. Romance? Art? PR power move? Whatever it is, the internet is obsessed. One thing’s clear: YN knows exactly what she’s doing.

—

view 509,024 other comments.

username0 : oh yeah im def gay

username10 : this was art

username15 : does this confirm throuple?? or did yn just steal alex??

username22 : charles rlly just stood there smirking and watching them kiss I AM djnfjnajd

username14 : i need a cigarette

username21 : FINALLY things are getting interesting again.

—

yourstruly_yn

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, olliebearman & 10,032,005 others.

yourstruly_yn : will not be further elaborating at this time. think what you want.

tagged : alexandrasaintmleux and charles_leclerc

—

view 810,005 other comments.

username00 : im sorry but the first thing i noticed was the height difference between her and charles and im obsessed

alexandrasaintmleux : thinking a lot of things. all unholy.

liked by yourstruly_yn and charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc : thinking what im going to do to you both

liked by yourstruly_yn and alexandrasaintmleux

↳ username00 : CHARLES????

↳ lando : my EYES

lilymhe : replayed that kiss 20 times and started thinking about my sexuality

liked by yourstruly_yn and alexandrasaintmleux

julesss : oh i love you and i hate you at the same time. so iconic.

liked by yourstruly_yn

username20 : this is how i find out yn is for the girls too??? magical day for the gays

—

(mv blurbs)

We were seated on the edge of the bed, camera crew resetting lights for the final wide shot.

Alex was fixing my lipstick for the fifth time. “You smudge more than anyone I know.”

“That’s because people keep kissing me,” I grinned.

Alex raised a brow. “You complaining?”

Charles, from behind the monitor, didn’t even look up. “If you are, we can stop.”

I turned  and gave him a pointed look. “I never said anything about stopping.” 

The room went quiet for a second, the air thick with that electric, unspoken something that had grown between us. 

“Just for the record,” Alex said as she handed the lipstick back, “this video is the least scandalous thing we’ve done lately.”

We all laughed. But no one said she was wrong.

—

Charles stood in front of me, tall, annoyingly smug, his eyes tracing every line of my face. “Nervous?” he asked.

“No,” I lied. “You?”

He smirked. “Terrified.”

I gripped the tie and tugged him closer—hard enough to wipe the smirk right off his face. He hit the wall behind him with a soft thud and grabbed at my hips, for a split second, we just stared at each other.

His voice dropped just enough for me to feel it in my spine. “You’re very good at that.”

“Acting?” I said, forcing a grin.

He shook his head. “Ruining me.” 

—

“Final shot!” someone shouted.

I was jittery, buzzing with adrenaline and nerves and something else I didn’t want to name. Alex slipped her hand into mine just before the take, her thumb brushing over my knuckles.

“You okay?” she whispered.

I nodded. “You?”

She grinned. “I’m having the time of my life.”

Charles was watching us from across the room—his cue was to lean in the doorframe, casual. Except he didn’t look casual. He looked… captivated. Like he was seeing something he wanted to memorize. The camera rolled. We walked away. I didn’t look back. I didn’t have to. I already knew he was still watching.

—

I don’t usually watch the playback. But the second the monitor lit up with that slow-motion shot of Alex kissing me, of Charles in the doorway looking like sin incarnate in a suit—my curiosity got the better of me.

“Looks good,” the editor muttered.

Understatement of the century.

Alex watched too, arms folded beside me. “You know this is going to break the internet, right?”

“I’m not sure the internet deserves this,” I said, only half joking.

Then Charles joined us, cocked his head and said, “We look good together.”

We. Together. I didn’t say anything. But I felt it in my chest.

—

The hotel room was dim, lit only by the flicker of my phone screen and the soft city lights bleeding through the curtains. The three of us were a mess of limbs under the plush duvet — Alexandra draped across my stomach, her long hair tickling my skin, and Charles curled behind me, one hand tucked under the hem of my oversized tee, the other lazily holding his phone. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that only exists after everything explodes. My phone buzzed again. Then again.

Alex groaned without lifting her head. “You checking it or just letting it vibrate us to death?”

I grabbed it and squinted at the screen. “Trending in 24 countries. There’s an edit of you and me kissing with the caption ‘real cinema is back.’”

Charles chuckled, chin resting on my shoulder. “Do they like my cameo?”

“Someone said you looked like the sexy villain interrupting two sapphics mid-flirt.”

He grinned, unbothered. “Fair.”

Alex finally rolled over, her cheek now on my thigh, scrolling through her own feed. “There’s a thread analyzing the whole video. They know, YN.”

I looked down at her. “They think they know.”

Charles hummed behind me, warm and sleepy. “Let them talk. It’s our story.”

And somehow, with both of them tangled around me, I didn’t care what the world thought. Not right now.

“I think we started something,” I whispered.

Alex looked up at me. “Or maybe we’re just finally letting it happen.”

Charles kissed my shoulder again, quieter this time. “Either way, I’m in.”

And just like that, I silenced my phone. Let the world spiral — we were safe in the eye of the storm.

—

charles_leclerc

liked by yourstruly_yn, alexandrasaintmleux, carlossainz55 and 12,930,000 others.

charles_leclerc : my girls.

—

user has disabled comments on this post.

—

[hrtwayne]

Just The Way You Are || Leah Williamson

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Surgeon!Wife!Reader 

Summary: Leah’s wife finally manages to take time off to watch one of her games. 

Note: English is not my first language!

Warnings: Mentions of Mutual Longing & Lots of Comfort! 

Masterlist | Women's Football Masterlist

The room in Leuven, located in a relatively quieter part of Belgium, was bathed in a faint yellowish light. The walls, painted in soft tones, housed a king-size bed and a small table where a few belongings could be placed.

You were exhausted. The routine of traveling between England and Spain, the grueling shifts, and the constant pressure to perform your best at the hospital had worn you down more than you could have imagined. But that week, what weighed on you the most wasn’t physical fatigue—it was longing. It had been exactly two months since you’d last seen Leah, your wife of nearly three years, and the distance seemed to be affecting both of you more than you’d expected.

The time zone differences and your hectic schedule made it difficult, but the two of you always found a way to squeeze in quick calls and conversations between matches and surgeries.

That afternoon, you decided it was the perfect time to reunite with the blonde-haired woman you loved. You had just landed in Leuven, still feeling the weight of exhaustion from a long shift, but you knew you couldn’t put this off any longer. You were used to receiving calls from Leah before her matches, but today, you had come up with a convenient excuse to throw her off.

The sound of cheers and chants was deafening at The King Power at Den Dreef Stadium. Leah was on the pitch, illuminated by the floodlights and the electrifying energy only a game could bring. Behind that confident smile of hers, there was a hidden ache—a longing she couldn’t shake. 

As the match neared its end, Leah noticed something unusual in the stands. Near the field, next to her mother, was a face that seemed to shine brighter than anything else. It was you. 

Leah blinked a few times, as if making sure her tired mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. But there you were—her wife—with a wide, proud smile, your eyes filled with love and longing. Leah’s heart raced, and her legs trembled slightly. She took a deep breath, knowing that in just a few more minutes, she could finally hold you again.

When the game ended, you waited a few moments before being led to the locker room entrance. You hugged a few players and staff, exchanged words with the team doctor—anything to ease the nervous pounding in your chest. The moment you spotted Leah, who looked just as anxious as you, you cleared your throat. Leah’s eyes widened, and she sprinted toward you.

You opened your arms in a loving gesture. Without hesitation, Leah crashed into you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. The noticeable height difference made her lift her feet off the ground, burying her face in the crook of your neck.

"You came," Leah breathed out, almost speechless. "I can’t believe you’re here."

You smiled, running your fingers through her slightly messy blonde strands.

"I wouldn’t miss this for anything, love. You were amazing out there."

Leah’s eyes welled up with tears. It wasn’t just the end of the match that moved her—it was the fact that despite your impossible schedule and chaotic life as a surgeon, you had found a way to be by her side when it truly mattered. 

"I missed you so much," Leah confessed, her voice soft and trembling. 

"I know, my love. I missed you too," you replied, cradling her face tenderly. "But I’m here now, and I’ll make up for every second I was away."

At that moment, the world around you seemed to fade. There were no more fans, no floodlights, no cameras. It was just you and Leah—two souls in love who had found their way back to each other.

[pitlanepeach]

From Eden | The Epilogue (8/8)

Oscar Piastri x Francesca Gold (OFC)

Summary — Francesca Gold is an introvert with a quiet life and a Youtube channel where she talks about books, drinks too much tea, and rarely ever shows her face. She prefers it that way - tucked into her London flat with her cat, Henry, and safely hidden behind a screen.

Oscar Piastri is a Formula 1 driver. Fast-paced, high-stakes, always on the move. He hasn't read a book in years, but he's watched every single one of Francesca's videos. Just for the sound of her voice.

Following her on Instagram was a moment of weakness. He didn't think she'd notice.

She did.

Chapter Warnings — Mentions of agoraphobia + severe social anxiety. Seasonal Depressive Episodes. So much fluff it’ll rot your teeth. Time skips.

Notes — Not the longest, but I think that it's perfect. You have all shown this fic so much love. Thank you, I hope this ending does their story justice — Peach x

liked by oscarpiastri, hattiepiastri, landonorris, and 102,374 others

bookishgoldie surrounded by so much love

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user1 henry is like HELL NAH MOM TAKE ME BACK INSIDE RIGHT NOW😭

bookishgoldie he actually loves being outdoors!!!! until he sees people and/or other cats

user03 the texts😌😌😌 ur faves could never

user63 CAN WE HAVE A SEQUEL UPDATE PLS??????

bookishgoldie 😉

user17 are you going to be at the GP this weekend?

user91 she hasn’t been to any of the last 3 😕

bookishgoldie just because you haven’t seen me, doesn’t mean im not there!!🫶 been having a hard time lately so ive just been hiding from the cameras

user91 feel better soon francesca❤️

user60 bf oscar crumbs…. IKTR

user76 you might actually be the prettiest girl in the world. like your HAIR????????

oscarpiastri glad those are the texts you decided to post and not the ones a little further down 👍🏻

bookishgoldie OSCAR

oscarpiastri 🧡

user75 god this feels like watching my parents flirt🤧

user33 new vlog soon? ♥ by bookishgoldie

—

Things always got a little harder to deal with in the winter.

Cold weather, dark, shorter days. 

Oscar, gone more than he was home, spending more time in England than Monaco, preparing for the new season at the MTC. 

Katie arrived after Christmas with sacks full of presents and the intention to stay for as long as she was welcome.

And Francesca let herself struggle.

She didn’t mask it or push it down. She let herself sleep in. Let herself cry into the collar of Oscar’s hoodies. Let Katie wrap her up in blankets and feed her shitty microwavable pasta. She let herself feel the heavy days without guilt.

And then spring came, slow and golden. The sea looked blue again. Henry sat at the window for hours, purring in the warmth.

Francesca curled up in the corner of the sofa, a half-drunk cup of tea resting on the armrest. Oscar stretched out beside her, hair damp from the shower, an arm slung loosely over her shins.

Their bodies were tired, but their faces were soft — content, a little dazed, totally at peace.

There was music playing faintly from a speaker in the kitchen. The balcony doors were open. The scent of jasmine drifted in with the breeze.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

Then, without opening her eyes, Francesca whispered, “I think I’m ready.”

Oscar turned his head, brushing his nose against her knee. “You sure?”

She opened her eyes. Looked at him. Smiled. “Yeah.” 

— 

The wedding wasn’t extravagant.

They’d talked about a big one — at home in Monaco, or away in Lake Como, with flower arches and string quartets and draped silk. 

But in the end, the choice was easy.

A coastal garden just outside Melbourne. A warm autumn breeze. Less than fifty guests. A white dress with long sleeves and lace along the hem. A charcoal grey suit with a crooked boutonnière that Oscar kept fiddling with until Logan smacked his hand away.

Katie cried the entire time. Her mascara was streaked halfway down her cheeks by the time Francesca walked down the aisle — Max, seated beside her in an unusually well-fitted suit, held her hand tightly, leaning in to whisper something that made her laugh through her tears. Henry had a bow tie and a seat in the front row, though he spent most of the ceremony asleep in Zac’s lap.

Oscar didn’t stop smiling. Not once.

He cried when she reached him. Not dramatically — just soft, silent tears. 

Their vows were simple. Sweet. (“I’ll never stop choosing you,” he’d said, thumb brushing her knuckles as his voice caught. “In every version of life, in every timeline — it’s always you.”)

After the ceremony, they danced barefoot under fairy lights. They kissed for too long during dinner. Katie gave a toast that quickly turned into a roast, full of sharp jabs and softer edges, the kind only a best friend could get away with. Mark cried during the father-daughter dance — harder than he had the day Francesca first asked him to step in for her absent father. Lando caught the bouquet.

And when the music quieted and the guests thinned, they stayed. Just the two of them. Sitting on the edge of the dance floor, champagne in one hand and her heels dangling from the other.

“You happy, baby?” Oscar asked, nose against her temple.

Francesca leaned into him, her lips brushing the line of his jaw. “Yeah.”

They didn’t rush off on any kind of honeymoon. There was a race two weeks later. It didn’t matter. Wherever they went, Monaco, London, Melbourne, a grid in the middle of nowhere; they had each other.

And that was more than enough.

— 

There were tiny shoes by the front door — worn at the toes, one toppled over like it had been abandoned mid-adventure. A toddler-sized karting suit swayed gently on the balcony, its colours faded slightly from the sun, dancing on the breeze like a memory.

Inside, the apartment held a hush, the kind that settled in the late afternoon when the world was between moments. Oscar was gone — somewhere fast and loud and far away — and her baby girl slept soundly, curled in a bassinet adjacent to Francesca’s desk. 

Francesca sat in front of her computer, bathed in soft light, her fingers moving slowly across the keys. A new manuscript sat on the screen. This one was different. Quieter. Gentler. Woven with the kind of love that had grown slowly over time, deep-rooted and certain. Her tea, long forgotten, sat cold beside her.

Sunlight spilled across the floor, golden and drowsy, stretching toward an old pet bed in the corner. Henry lay there, curled up in a patch of warmth, his ginger fur dulled with age. Curled beside him, a kitten — all fluff and white — snored in perfect harmony, their bodies forming a sleepy, tangled mess.

A quiet rustle, the creak of little feet on hardwood.

Francesca paused, fingertips hovering above her keyboard.

From the living room, the low hum of the television drifted in. The race broadcast, crowd noise swelling like waves. And then, clearer than anything else, a small, delighted voice rang out, “Daddy!”

She was smiling even before she pushed up from her desk. That voice, high and sweet and excited, cut through the stillness like some kind of magic. 

Her little boy was standing in front of the TV, one hand pressed against the screen where Oscar’s face was displayed. His curls were rumpled from sleep, cheeks still flushed, tiny fingers smudging the corner of the screen as if touching his father would bring him closer. 

Francesca leaned in the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, her heart full. 

The race commentary carried on in the background, and her little boy bounced on his toes. 

Her gaze drifted to the balcony, to where the tiny karting suit hung in the breeze; the sleeves smudged with stains, the knees scuffed from victory. It was so small that just looking at it made her chest ache. 

Her little boy had won his first race a week ago. The youngest in his category. Sharp in the corners. Smooth on the throttle. Brave.

It was in his blood.

His father, now a three-time world champion, had scooped him up in the pit lane like he was the one who’d just won a title, not the other way around.

Generational, they called it.

Her little boy caught sight of her in his peripheral and beamed. All toothy grin and sun-kissed cheeks. Without hesitation, he ran to her, arms outstretched. She bent to meet him halfway, grunting softly as she lifted him onto her hip.

He wrapped himself around her neck, squeezing her tight. 

He didn’t have to win races to be held like this. Didn’t need to be the best or the brightest or the bravest. He didn’t have to earn a single inch of her love.

It was already his. Always would be.

She kissed the side of his head, inhaling the familiar scent of sun and sugar and something impossibly sweet.

“You hungry, darling?” she whispered into his hair.

He nodded. “Toast, please. With jam.”

“Coming right up.” She gave him another squeeze before setting him down gently. “You wanna stay and watch daddy?”

He nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling as he twisted his head around to watch the TV screen, where Oscar was currently navigating through an interview.

She carried him over to the couch, his small weight settled against her side as she tucked the quilt around him, the soft fabric a cocoon of warmth and comfort. He curled into it, content and safe.

She took a few steps toward the kitchen, paused, then pulled out her phone and took a photo. 

— 

iMessage — Francesca & Oscar 

Francesca 

*insert photo* 

Oscar 

Thank you

Needed that

Love you

Francesca 

Love you <3

— 

The sun was low in the sky. Francesca sat on a pink towel, legs stretched out, toes buried in the cooling grains. Beside her, Oscar lay propped up on one elbow, his eyes half-lidded as he watched their son dart across the shore, chasing a scuttling crab with wild delight. Their daughter sat nearby, deeply engrossed in her sprawling sandcastle mansion, occasionally glancing up to make sure her parents were still there, still watching.

Oscar shifted slightly, pushing up onto both elbows now, his brows knitting as he stared out at the horizon. 

Francesca moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?” she asked, her voice soft, knowing.

He shook his head a little, a half-smile pulling at his lips. “Just... thinking.”

She raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just watched the sun dip lower. Then, finally, his voice low and sure, he said, “I think it’s time.”

She frowned, confused. “Time for what? To head back? It’s still early.”

Oscar sat up properly now, brushing sand off his palms. He looked at her — really looked at her — and the air between them seemed to hold its breath. He dragged a hand through his hair, fingers lingering at the back of his neck, before resting his gaze on her again. “Time to retire.”

Francesca’s heart stumbled. “Retire?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over the sea breeze. “What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath, turning his attention back to their children. Their son let out a triumphant laugh, clutching an empty bucket in one hand, while their daughter patted the top of her castle with precise, serious little chubby fingers.

“Five world titles,” Oscar said. “I’ve done it. I’ve done more than I ever dreamed of. And I’m proud of that. But I think… I don’t need the next ten. I just want this.” His voice softened. “You. Them. No more risks. No more being away. I want to be here.”

Francesca’s chest ached. She’d thought about this moment before — hoped for it, in secret. But he was still so young, only thirty-two. He could have gone on for years. He could’ve shattered more records, chased more championships.

But he didn’t want that anymore.

He wanted to come home.

She smiled, even as her eyes stung. Her lips trembled slightly as she asked, “You’re sure?”

Oscar reached for her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering at her jaw with a kind of reverence that made her breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything, ‘Cesca.”

Her hand covered his, grounding herself in the moment, in him. “Okay,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “Okay.”

— 

Laughter rang from the garden just beyond; a bright, bubbling sound that tugged a soft smile from Francesca as she stood on the back porch, watching.

Katie was kneeling in the grass, a crown of daisies crooked on her head, her arms raised in mock defeat as Francesca’s daughter tackled her around the middle with giggles. Her son cheered his sister on from the sidelines, face smudged with dirt, holding a water gun like a trophy.

“You little shits,” Katie cackled, falling onto her back with theatrical drama, arms splayed wide as the children climbed over her triumphantly.

Francesca laughed. She stepped out into the sun, barefoot on warm stone. “You’ve completely lost control of them,” she called out.

“Excuse me,” Katie said, sitting up with a toddler’s arms wrapped around her neck. “I am their queen, thank you very much. This is just… a temporary coup.”

Francesca sat beside them in the grass, brushing a hand over her daughter’s hair as the little girl nestled into Katie’s lap. 

“I hope you know,” Francesca said eventually, softly, “You’re their aunt, but you’re also my sister. The first real family I ever had.”

Katie looked over at her, blinking fast. “Christ, Fran, don’t go saying stuff like that, I’m trying to maintain my badass aunt image.”

Francesca smiled, eyes shimmering. “Too late. You’re a daisy-crowned queen now. Fully compromised.”

Katie laughed, leaning over to bump their shoulders together. “Love you too, dummy.”

— 

Students bustled around them, dragging suitcases, clutching dorm keys, hugging parents goodbye. It was a flurry of new beginnings and tender goodbyes.

Francesca stood just off the main building, one hand loosely curled around her husband’s, the other pressed gently to her sternum, like she was trying to hold herself together from the inside out. Their daughter was walking away with her new roommate at her side, after their teary goodbye’s had drawn to an end.

Oscar watched her with quiet pride, his thumb brushing the back of Francesca’s hand when their daughter turned and waved — eyes bright, a little glassy, but shining with something solid and sure.

“She’ll be fine,” he said softly.

Francesca nodded, though her throat was tight. “I know.”

They lingered, neither of them ready to break the moment. It felt impossibly full — their daughter stepping into her future, their son already chasing his at breakneck speed, halfway across the world, poised to win the F2 title, just a year after securing the F3 championship.

Francesca exhaled a breath that trembled at the edges, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe all of this started in my tiny London flat.”

Oscar leaned in, pressed a kiss to her temple, and let his forehead rest against hers, warm and steady. “We built a whole life out of that flat.”

They stood together, quiet. Proud of everything they'd managed to create. Two lives made with care. A family grown with love.

“Ready to go?” Oscar asked his wife gently.

Francesca smiled, her heart full. “Yeah. Let’s go see our boy win his second championship.”

[dancuny]

Merlin Camera

This week's posting is about a relatively uncommon camera with an odd and unusual look made by a tiny company in the UK. The camera is the Merlin, produced by United Optical Instruments in Southend-on-the-Sea, England. 

 I had seen the Merlin camera in books and online when looking at subminiature cameras. Still, it wasn't until my wife. I was on a trip to London a couple of years ago when I came across this odd bird at the Camera’s London stall on Portobello Road on a day that my wife and I were scheduled to go home. 

 Our flight wasn't until later in the afternoon, and I wanted to look for cameras before leaving, so I went there early in the morning to make it back in time to go to the airport. That's where I spotted the Merlin camera and a few other cameras I brought back to the States with me.

 What caught my eye about the Merlin camera is the very odd shape of the camera. It has a wide part of the body, then narrows down, but the lens area flares out again, and the winding knob is on the bottom of the camera. You need to display the camera on the side unless you rest the camera on something due to the winding knob on the bottom of the camera. It just doesn't sit evenly on a flat surface.

The Company:

United Optical Instruments is only known to have made two different cameras, and neither was very popular. One of the cameras they manufactured was the Jupiter camera, a simple plastic camera with an Art Deco faceplate that took 127-size film. The only controls on the camera were two shutter speeds, the winding mechanism, and the shutter release. The other camera they manufactured was the subminiature Merlin camera. 

 I can find little information about United Optical Instruments, which is located in a resort town on the Thames Estuary in Essex, southeast England, about 68 kilometers from London. However, I did find that the company was associated with the Erac Selling Company.

 The Erac Selling Co. manufactured and patented two slightly different, oddly shaped cameras that resembled a pistol made from thermoplastic material. One of the items was the Erac Automatic Pistol Camera, and the other was the Erac Mercury 1. These pistol-shaped cameras housed a Merlin camera without the viewfinder inside the pistol's body. When you pulled the pistol trigger, the camera took the photo. 

 According to the information I found online, the Erac is described and illustrated in a patent issued to Harry Steward of Southend-on-Sea in 1931. The early version uses a different type of film advance, and the Merlin doesn't seem to be in this version.

 Harry Steward and Harry Covill were issued an improved patent in 1937. The second camera's patent described it as a pistol-shaped device. The patent drawings show it to resemble a Merlin camera inside, but there is no mention of Erac.

 Since the Merlin camera is inside the Erac Pistol camera, they patented a camera without the Merlin inside. Still, they found it too difficult to make it work. A few years later, they decided to put the Merlin camera inside the camera without the viewfinder.

The Camera:

As you can see in the photos, the camera is very small. It's only  2" wide, 2" deep, and 2" tall with finder up and 1.5" when it's down, and it only weighs 3.9 oz. The camera is made from cast metal and painted with a crackle finish, as the exterior has a rough surface. I can see areas where it's either chipped off or some flaked off. My Merlin camera is black, but they also have blue, green, and red cameras.

 The Merlin took a special film of only 20mm rolls with a negative size of 18x18mm. It came on paperback rolls similar to the small "hit" style cameras, and to load the camera, the top of the camera, which is attached to the back, slides off, exposing the film chamber. Put in the roll of film, bring it over to the take-up spool, slide the top back on, and advance the roll to the first frame. The winding knob is on the bottom of the camera, as I mentioned earlier.

 Another slight issue is that the top of the body doesn't lock, so if the camera falls, the top can slide off, exposing the film. Unfortunately, my camera doesn't have any original fill spools, only the blank areas where the film goes.

 There is only one shutter speed, and the shutter release is on the bottom of the camera along with the film advance knob. The only item on the top of the camera is the fold-down viewfinder. The lens has no focus as it's a meniscus-style lens.

Conclusion:

Since I didn't have the film for this camera, I couldn't take it out for a walk through the neighborhood to take photos and see how it did. That's OK. I can use other cameras to do that.

 I really like having this small camera in my collection, and now I want to find a Jupiter or Erac camera to add to it.

 Thank you for taking a few minutes from your day to read about this wonderful camera made almost 100 years ago by a very small company in England. It has a nice place in my collection and hopefully inspires you to find one for it, too.

 I'd love to hear from you if you have questions, comments, or concerns about this or any of the cameras I've written about.

 Until next week, please be safe.

[theonottsbxtch]

Can we get oscar x teacher smau since school is starting over here in America?

Professor Piastri? | OP81

an: thank you so much for this request! i had so much fun with it. i had to remake this three times because tumblr kept deleting my progress 🫠. good luck with the start of school soon!

fc: pinterest

requests: open

messages between oscar and yn

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, mclaren and 983,836 others

only 34 days left 🙃

*tap to load comments*

userone: I WANT MORE B&W PHTOOS 💳💥💳💥

usertwo: what is op81 doing in a library?

landonorris: summer break is in 15 days you muppet

oscarpiastri: i know, i can count

landonorris: right and i’m world champion

userthree: i need more photographer oscar content

logansargeant: i swear it was 28 days the other day?

oscarpiastri: no ☹️

userfour: what does logan know🤨

userfive: me 🤝 oscar, both having important things in 34 days

usersix: ooh what’s yours!!

userfive: school break!

twitter

imessage between oscar and yn

ynprivate

liked by yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 19 others

getting to see the hubby live at work 🥰

*tap to load more comments*

yourbestfriend: HOW DOES IT FEEL FHAT OSCAR PIASTRI, YOUR HUSBAND, IS NOW A GRAND PRIX WINNER

ynprivate: SHUT UP SHUT SHUT UP I CANT EVEN CELEBRATE WITH HIM

oscarpiastri: you can celebrate with me in the hotel room

logansargeant: ew get a room

oscarpiastri: i’m trying to

yourcoworker: THIS is why you didn’t want to meet up for coffee and mark papers?!

ynprivate: 😅🤭

logansargeant: my favourite secret wag i swear

ynprivate: how many secret wags do you know?

logansargeant: 🤐

twitter

f1wags

liked by userone, usertwo, userthree and 981,264 others

BREAKING‼️

the shock. the disbelief. the dismay for some. oscar piastri married?! today the world is shocked to find out that one of the grid’s most charming drivers has been secretly married for years! that’s right, married. the news was bought to us after a screenshot was leaked on twitter from yn (his wife)‘s private instagram where she was seen posting him with the caption “getting to see the hubby live at work🥰”. the woman identified as yn ln, still goes by her maiden name was a girl he met while at boarding school.

yn ln is currently a teacher in england, and the couple has managed to keep their relationship entirely under the radar. sources close to the couple reveal that they chose to keep their marriage private due to her career in education, wanting to protect her from the intense public scrutiny that comes with being associated with an f1 star (hence the reason she has kept her maiden name)

the screenshot, which shows a sweet picture of oscar looking into her camera, has sent the f1 fandom into spirals!

despite the sudden exposure, oscar and his wife have yet to comment on the leak. the secrecy surrounding around their relationship only adds to the intrigue, leaving fans and media outlets waiting with bated breath.

who is oscar piastri and what more is he hiding?

*photos credit to yn’s instagram*

oscarpiastri

liked by ynprivate, landonorris, logansargeant and 923,746 others

cats out the bag now, mrs piastri everyone. only 11 more days until her summer break!

*tap to load more comments*

userone: that’s what the countdown was about 🥹

usertwo: oh hell nawh they both hot

userthree: how long have they been together what?!

logansargeant: married for two years but together for much longer, i’ve known since 2019☺️

landonorris: oscar we are NOT friends

oscarpiastri: i am sorry, i had to respect the mrs’ wishes

landonorris: LOGAN HAS KNOWN FOR SIX YEARS THAT YOU HAD A PARTNER

landonorris: i was low-key starting to think you were gay mate

ynprivate: i’m so sorry!! i just didn’t want work and private life to get mixed up

landonorris: i guess i can somewhat forgive him

ynprivate: yay! maybe we can meet for coffee to get to know you better, osc talks so much about you :)

landonorris: he talks about me 🥹

userfour: i think they broke the internet for good this time

userfive: helpppp lando in the comments 😭😭

usersix: imagine your teacher being oscar piastri’s WIFE

userseven: i hope nicole didn’t find out through instagram

nicolepiastri: no, but i did find out he got engaged three weeks after it happened!

alex_albon: @/landonorris take this L and hold it you dweeb

landonorris: 🖕🖕

[woso-dreamzzz]

Idol II

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first call up to the Lionesses

It wasn't you that Sarina had come to evaluate.

It was Grace.

She'd heard great things about Grace Clinton and the idea of putting her into the World Cup squad was tempting which was why she was sat in the freezing cold winter weather in Bristol, trying to see if she could find a way to fit Grace into her midfield at her current level.

But Grace is on the bench, having picked up a slight niggle in the warm up.

So instead of Grace, Sarina finds herself evaluating you instead.

You're by far the smallest and youngest on the pitch, at least two heads shorter than the next smallest and your round baby face makes it clear that you're not anywhere near the next youngest too.

"Er...y/n l/n," One of the staff members replies when Sarina asks who you are," She's currently being looked at for the Under-23s. She's an Under-17 right now."

Sarina frowns. "How old is she?"

"She turned fifteen this August. Her inclusion in the Bristol City team was a surprise to everyone."

Sarina sips on her coffee thoughtfully just as you dance between two defenders and your shot is deflected by the keeper.

The Championship doesn't have the greatest access to camera footage so Sarina's mainly condemned to old youth team footage that's a little unfocussed and shaky.

She hums to herself, fingernails clicking against her desk.

"Hello? Is this Mrs l/n? Hi, this is Sarina Wiegman. I'm calling on behalf of the Lionesses. Yes, about your daughter."

Your coat is two sizes too big and the legs of your trousers have been rolled up a few times, that's one of the first things Keira notices.

The second thing is that your eyes are wide and the smile on your face holds excitement with a hint of nervousness.

She's never seen you before in her life and to even see someone like you at camp is shocking.

She'd been shocked to see a name on the camp list that she didn't recognise, even more shocked when she'd asked around and found that no one really knew who you were.

You walk in with Sarina, tucked under her arm as the introductions are made.

The nervousness is another thing Keira notes, your awkward smile does nothing to hide the way your eyes dart around the area.

"That's the kid Jona was talking about," Lucy says one morning randomly, scoffing down a piece of toast," He said that La Masia were looking to bring her in. She's still on an Academy contract with Bristol City."

"Really?" Georgia asks," You'd think they'd have moved her onto a professional one. Apparently, she's like an integral part to their system. Bristol City are gunning for promotion, I heard."

"She's good," Lucy says as Keira glances over her shoulder to watch you push at your eggs with a wrinkled nose," But her talents are wasted at Bristol."

Georgia flicks a bit of mushroom at her. "Maybe Bayern will have to grab her before you do."

Lucy laughs, pushing herself out from the table. "Well, maybe I should just go and ask her now, shall I? Because I guarantee you, she's going to want to trade England's weather for sunny Spain over Germany."

Georgia stands up too. "Funny. I was going to say that she'd much prefer the food in Germany to the food in Spain. I don't think she likes rice much so she won't like paella."

You're sitting alone at your table, wondering if it's alright to leave the now cold scrambled egg on your plate or if you should force it down so the catering staff don't feel annoyed at your for wasting it.

You practically jump out of your skin as Lucy Bronze and Georgia Stanway slam into the chairs opposite you.

You couldn't look at them - not after meeting Georgia for the first time and mindlessly blurting out her statistics from this season right in front of her.

"So," Lucy says, drumming her fingers on the table," How do you like Spain?"

"Er..."

"Ever been to Germany?" Georgia cuts in," Because, you know, Munich is beautiful this time of year."

"I-"

"Because I was thinking," Lucy continues like Georgia hadn't even spoken," Barcelona is just so nice and warm. You could work on your tan there."

"And of course, there's so many great Christmas markets in the winter," Georgia says," And sometimes we go and visit them as a big team and buy each other stuff."

"Well we do that at Barcelona too. Ingrid has a great list of coffee shops if you're into that kind of thing."

"Sydney knows the best places to grab a bite in the middle of the night."

"Aitana knows-"

A body slumps down into the seat next to you, an arm swung casually over your shoulder.

"You know, Chelsea's the place to be," Millie Bright says," Great manager. Great staff. Great team. We've got it all."

"And how many Champion's Leagues is that?" Lucy asks and Millie kicks her under the table.

"She's not going to any of your teams," Mary interrupts, swinging her feet up and onto the table as she leans back in the chair she stole," Because United are going to have this girl on lock."

The table erupts into laughter and Mary's face drops.

"Hey! It's not funny! We'll see who's laughing next season!"

"Still us," Georgia says," There's no way a kid with this level of talent is going to United! Just you wait, after the World Cup, she's going to have offers flooding in from everywhere.

"Really?" You ask, voice quiet," You really think so?"

You hadn't ever really thought of you future outside of the now. You don't know if you had ever really considered that you were good enough for other people to want. You hadn't ever really considered anyone would take a chance on you like Bristol City did.

"Are you kidding?" Lucy scoffs," Kid, your skills are off the charts at this age! Just you wait, people are going to be clamouring to get you!" She winks. "Just remember to choose the right one."

"The right one being Bayern," Georgia says with grin," Think of the Christmas markets."

"Think of the Barcelona sun."

"Think of being on the best English team."

"Think of..." Mary throws her hands up. "Well how am I supposed to compete with that?!"

"You can't," Lucy laughs with a shrug," Which is why United was never part of the conversation. Face it, Mary, you can't compete with that."

Mary waves her finger around. "Just you wait, I'll have this kid moving to Manchester before this World Cup is over."

A hand falls onto your shoulder and you look up to see Keira standing there, an eye roll already half completed on her face.

"The kid can make her own decisions," She says," She doesn't need you lot badgering her to make one before she has to."

"It's just a bit of fun, Kie," Georgia complains with an eye roll of her own," Sue me if I don't want Barcelona to collect all the best midfielders in the world."

The gentle teasing continues but all you can think of is Georgia's words.

'Collect all the best midfielders in the world'.

She meant you in that conversation as well. She meant to put you in the same bracket as Keira and Bonmatí and Guijarro and Putellas, the staples of Barcelona's midfield.

You stare down at your plate, that stupid bit of cold scrambled egg still sitting on it. You don't know how to react to that.

Say thank you?

Or would that make it weird?

Probably.

You've already embarrassed yourself enough this week. You don't need to do it all over again.

So you just kind of sit there with a shy smile on your face as the older players tease each other around you.

"Don't listen to them," Keira says," Where you go and what you do with your career is all up to you." She winks. "But I wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to come along to Barcelona."

[enwoso]

fifty and flyin’ | alessia russo x child!reader

i’m not even lying when i say this has been sat waiting since the fifth of april.. since last camp. but finally it’s here - worth the wait🙃

grumpy masterlist

the buzz in the spanish stadium was electric as always no matter where the lionesses played—flags waving, drums pounding, chants echoing through the crisp night air. the scent of fresh grass and stadium food lingered in the air, as the floodlights beamed down on the pitch like stars.

but as you sat with a bundle of nerves and glitter in your lap, clutching a hand-painted banner bigger than you were.

"do you think she'll see it, nonna?" you asked, peeking over the edge of the barrier. your big curious blue eyes scanning the field anxiously, despite the game not having started yet.

"she'll see it, darling," your grandfather reassured with a warm wink. "you spent all day on that. if she misses it, we'll wave it even harder."

the banner was an explosion of colour and love: "GO MUMMY! 50 CAPS! WE LOVE YOU!"— written in bold, glittery letters, with red and white hearts, stick figures of you and alessia holding hands, as well as many tiny doodles of both of your favourite things for good measure.

"she's going to cry when she sees it," luca said, grinning as he helped you hold it steady. "you've made sure of that."

down on the pitch, alessia was focused— hair slicked back perfectly in a ponytail, armband on her sleeve, the number 9 proudly stretched across her back. england v portugal.

her 50th cap. something she could only dream about when she was your age, now was time to make that dream a reality.

but even in her focus, her eyes flicked to the stands every few minutes. always to the same spot. always searching for her girl, for you.

—

the first half was tight. the kind of game that had everyone on edge. but through it all, you sat perfectly upright, hands gripping your sign, barely blinking.

"mummy's playing really good, right nonna?" you asked quietly, like you didn't want to jinx anything.

"the best," your grandmother said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "your mummy was made for moments like this."

and when it happened—when ella slipped that perfect through ball, and alessia took it in stride, cutting between defenders like she was dancing— you froze. and then—

"MUMMY!!!"

you screamed so loud it startled the row in front. glitter flying from your jumper like a confetti cannon as you jumped up and down, feet bouncing on the seat. your cheeks flushed pink with sheer excitement.

"she did it! she did it, nonna! did you see? did you see?!"

luca laughed, lifting you up into his arms so you could wave the banner even higher. "we all saw, darling. the whole stadium saw."

down on the pitch, alessia's arms flew out in their usual way, for her celebration. air russo back in business. she beamed—radiant and wild with joy—and as her teammates swarmed her, she pulled away just slightly, facing the family section.

she kissed her wrist, like always, then tapped the number on her back. and finally, pointed straight toward the stands—toward you. pressing her palm over her heart and mouthed the words 'that was for you.'

you gasped loud as you hand went around your mouth. "mummy pointed at me. she did it for me."

"you've always been her lucky charm, kiddo" luca whispered, kissing the top of your head.

—

the final whistle blew. england 2–1 spain.

alessia's legs ached, her cheeks hurt from smiling, and adrenaline pulsed through her veins. but her eyes weren't on the cameras, or the fans, or even her teammates.

they were on that one spot in the stands. and there it was. the banner. still held up high by tiny, determined arms.

"look at her," alessia breathed, eyes soft. "she's still holding it."

ella jogged over, nudging her side. "you've gone, mate. you've gone full mum-mode."

"i have to go to her," alessia said, already veering off.

leah called after her, "don't go jumping fences!"

"lovie's with my mum, relax!" alessia tossed over her shoulder, laughing. as she approached the barrier, you were already bouncing in place, nearly falling into nonna's lap.

"mummy! mummy, you scored! did you see my banner? i held it up the whole time, even when my arms got tired and we had to fix it 'cause the wind tried to steal it!"

alessia beamed, reaching over and wrapping her arms tight around you as if it had been years since she saw you when in reality it had been less than four hours, pulling you in close like the rest of the world didn't exist.

"oh, i saw it," she whispered into your curls. "lovie, it was the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. it sparkled even more than hannah’s gloves."

you giggled. "you really saw it?"

"i saw it right after i scored. i looked straight up and there you were. it made my whole night."

"really? you mean it?" you asked, wide-eyed, not sure whether to believe your mummy or not.

"i scored for you, lovie. that goal was yours. that whole game—you were with me the whole time."

you lit up like a christmas tree. "i knew it. i told uncle luca you'd score. i felt it in my tummy."

alessia laughed, eyes brimming with happy tears. nothing would ever top this moment. "well, you've got good instincts, lovie."

normally, alessia would leave you with your grandparents during post-match duties, you having more fun with them then the boring behind the scene action. but not tonight. not on her 50th cap. not after that banner.

alessia lifted you over the barrier, ignoring the slight protest from the steward, and settled you securely on her hip.

"let's go wave at the fans, my little superstar."

you squealed, arms tight around her neck as you waved bye to your grandparents and your uncle before turning back to your mummy. "i love you, mummy."

"i love you more, my baby." as you both walked the pitch together, the team lit up.

"whey! look who's here!" lucy called out, waving her arms around in excitement. "future number 9 on the pitch!"

lauren crouched down to your level. "that banner was fire. can you make one for me next time?"

"hmm, i only make them for my mummy," you said matter-of-factly, before pausing. "but maybe... if you score a really really good goal."

chloe kneeling beside you with mock seriousness. "on a scale of one to sparkly, how much glitter did you use?"

"all of it," you replied proudly. "mama says i'm a glitter menace."

beth laughed. "and you're a menace on the pitch, less."

leah joined them with a soft smile, carrying the banner like it was great treasure. she handed it back to you. "don't worry, angel. i've protected it."

you grinned wide. "thank you, mama."

alessia glanced between the two of them, heart practically bursting. "look at my girls," she whispered.

and in that moment—on a foreign pitch, surrounded by teammates and fans, under a glitter-filled night—everything felt whole. fifty caps. one goal. one unforgettable banner.

and a family that made everything mean more.

—

after the celebration had died down and everyone was now winding down for the night, before a long day of travelling.

the hotel room was bathed in soft golden light, the atmosphere warm and peaceful after the rush of alessia's big night.

from the window, the city below buzzed with life, but inside, the only sounds were the low hum of the air conditioning and the soft creak of the hallway door.

alessia sat on the edge of the bed, now comfortably settled in her favourite hoodie and joggers, her hair flowing free and freshly washed.

but still she wore the proud smile from her victory, though now it was softer, quieter—more at peace. her 50th cap. the goal. the banner. all of it felt like a dream she never wanted to end.

on the floor beside her, the glitter-covered banner lay carefully flat, the colourful words still shimmering under the dim light. it was all for her. for them. and for you.

you were already curled up in the middle of the bed, wearing your little lionesses top, cheeks rosy from the evening's excitement.

your curly hair was a messy halo around her face, and streaks of glitter clung to her skin—some still sparkling, some smeared from your enthusiastic post-match ice cream adventure with leah. the sugary sweetness of it all seemed to linger in the air as your small voice broke the silence.

"she out like a light," alessia whispered, glancing toward the bathroom where leah had just emerged, her hair twisted up into a messy bun and sleeves rolled up, carrying the comforting scent of lavender shampoo.

"no i not," came the sleepy protest from the bed, and both alessia and leah couldn't help but smile.

leah grinned playfully, crossing the room toward the bed. "i knew you were faking it," she teased, sitting down beside you and smoothing a hand over your wild curls. "big night for you, huh?"

you stretched like a cat, squinting up at leah. "i not faking! i- was just... resting my face," you said, eyes already half-closed again.

"oh sorry, my mistake," leah teased, raising an eyebrow a wide smile on her lips as she watched your eyes flutter close once again "that is totally different, huh?"

you crawled into your mummy's lap without hesitation, making yourself comfortable like second nature "i am tired, mummy," you murmured, your small head nestling on your mummy's chest. "but i don't want to sleep until i tell you both something."

alessia's heart swelling, as leah scooted closer to them, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees. "what's that, little one?"

you blinked slowly, your eyes heavy but still bright with excitement. "i think... today was the best day ever."

alessia chuckled softly, kissing your forehead. "yeah? not because of the ice cream, though, right?"

"no," you giggled, her little body shaking with the sound. "cause mummy scored, and we won, and everyone saw my banner, and mama was waving at me even when working. and... and when mummy pointed to her heart and looked up, i knew it was for me."

alessia felt a lump in her throat, her chest tightening with a flood of love she couldn't quite put into words.

"it's always for you, lovie," alessia whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "that goal? it was all for you."

you smiled sleepily, your tiny fingers playing with the hem of  your mummy's hoodie. "i gonna make a new banner for when you get a hundred caps," you said, your words slurring with sleep.

"oh dear," leah laughed softly, her hands gently brushing against your curls. "we're going to need a whole stadium just for your craft supplies at this point."

alessia joined in the laughter, her heart full. "she's already planning the glitter budget for it. who needs a bank account when you've got a five-year-old with a glitter obsession?"

you just yawned, your eyelids fluttering as your little body finally gave in to sleep. you snuggled deeper into your mummy's arms, and with a soft sigh, your breathing slowed.

leah smiled as she watched the two of you, her eyes soft with affection. "look at you two," she whispered, voice low, so as not to disturb the peaceful moment. "she's perfect."

alessia kissed the top of your head, her eyes never leaving leah. "she really is," she murmured, her voice full of quiet pride. "and she's all ours."

leah moved slightly offering to move you to somewhere more comfy, and with the care of someone who'd done it a thousand times.

leah shifted you onto a pillow in your own little bed, tucking the blankets around you with practiced hands. the whole scene was so familiar, so comforting—alessia couldn't help but watch with a soft smile.

once you were properly settled, leah slid under the covers, her body making the bed dip beside alessia. alessia crawled in next, her body instinctively moving closer to leah's. she rested her head against leah's shoulder, the warmth of her body grounding her in a way nothing else could.

"fifty caps," leah whispered softly, pressing a tender kiss into alessia's hair. "you're a joke."

alessia laughed quietly, shaking her head. "i wasn't going to cry tonight. then she held up that damn banner. i swear she's trying to turn me into a puddle."

leah smirked, running her fingers through alessia's hair, the touch gentle and soothing. "she's a menace. a very cute and glittery menace."

alessia huffed out a soft laugh. "she was so excited. she didn't even blink when i scored. just started shouting like it was the world cup final. but... i saw her. even with all the noise and the people around me—i still saw her."

leah pressed her lips to alessia's temple, her breath warm against her skin. "you always do. you see everything that matters."

the room fell into a peaceful silence then—just the soft sound of your breathing, even and calm, the only sign that you were still with them.

alessia's heart was full in a way she never quite thought it could be. the warmth of leah beside her, the love for you growing more deeper with each passing day if that was even humanly possible—it was everything she had ever wanted and more.

you stirred in your sleep slightly, mumbling something about "glitter bananas" and "dancing footballs," making leah snicker quietly.

"she's already dreaming of her next masterpiece," alessia whispered, smiling into the quiet. "we are never escaping the glitter now, we are going to be finding it every where at home.

leah chuckled softly, pulling alessia closer to her side. "she's a glitter-wielding menace, but she's our glitter-wielding menace."

"yep," alessia agreed, blinking back tears she hadn't realized were there. "she really is. and i wouldn't change a thing."

they lay there in the stillness, wrapped in the soft glow of the night, the day's excitement gradually melting into a quiet, peaceful calm. the only sounds now were the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, and the comforting rhythm of alessia's  and leah's hearts beating in sync.

"i love you," alessia whispered after a long pause, her voice a soft murmur in the dim room.

leah's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer. "i love you too," she whispered back, kissing the top of her head. "more than anything."

and in that quiet moment—under the soft glow of the hotel room lamp, wrapped in blankets and love—they stayed. wrapped in glitter, in goals, in each other.

together.

[bambi-kinos]

Sorry for taking so long on this post, I've been writing it in my head for weeks trying to figure out how to phrase everything. But umm I think Paul was in a bath tub when he was taking certain photos of John.

So the book itself is divided into sections based on location. There's a London section, a Paris section, then they go to New York and then on to Miami, etc. The London section is really interesting and the photos are very revealing IMO. I definitely recommend getting your hands on a physical copy, your local library may have it. This is something you should experience physically because uh. There's a lot of John in here. To me at least it's very obvious how deeply in love Paul was with John.

So imagine for a minute that you're Paul McCartney, and you're in London, England with your best mate.

The way that journalists are treating this set of photos makes me feel a little insane because so many of them are saying "this is John and Paul backstage!" Y'all, this is not John and Paul backstage. This is John and Paul in their hotel room. Alone.

First off let's look at this:

Here's John shaving the stubble off his face. Sunglasses still on; John had prescription sunglasses so if he's wearing these then his contacts are not in. Look at the background of this photo:

John's in the way here but that is a set of curtains in a hotel room! You can tell from the horizontal bar on top, those are to hold the black out curtains. And another thing: I think these are John and Paul's suitcases sitting on top of a wardrobe. Not entirely sure about that though since the image is so grainy.

At this point John has taken off his sunglasses, he's brushing his teeth and has washed his face. Again, look at the background:

This is a medicine cabinet, a storage feature in bathrooms to keep toiletries safe from the humidity caused by a bath and/or shower. I don't know how common these are anymore:

What I find interesting about this sequence of photos is that John first pulls a funny face for Paul:

But then something grabs his attention:

Spits out the toothpaste:

And then off John nyooms...making soft eyes at Paul no less.

Pay close attention to the background on this photo! We're seeing the hotel window from another angle, the horizontal strip at the top is the tell:

I outlined the horizontal strip on the curtain and then drew lines on the dips in the fabric so you can compare it to the OG photo:

Paul is utilizing an interesting run-and-gun style of camera shooting here, he's got John tilted and at an angle that puts John over Paul. Unconsciously signaling something? Let's move on...

According to this strip...

...this is the next photo in the sequence:

Again calling attention to more interesting details here:

John's tie is missing and his shirt is undone. And that looks like a towel in his hands. He's turning in for the night.

2. John is standing in front of a reinforced door which are common in hotels but are not common in dressing rooms:

3. This photo is itself a reflection of John's face that Paul has taken in a mirror, maybe a vanity mirror. Someone in the McLen discord server said it was too small to be a vanity mirror and I'm inclined to agree, so maybe it's a compact or hand mirror propped up on the sink.

So what does this mean? I think that John and Paul were getting ready for bed, someone knocked on the door, and John went to answer it. You'd think Paul would but for some reason he didn't. Oh and another thing...check out the four jackets in the mirror:

They're definitely hanging from something so John and Paul were looking out for the suits that night.

Next in the sequence, John is back at the sink washing up. Check out the hotel window curtain being reflected in the mirror there!

Then something kind of odd happens...John is seen coming back and re-entering the shot again? Through out Eye of the Storm Paul emphasizes a lot of duality with John, including a shot where John reflects on his own sculpted face. Paul was very interested in John doing performing the act of reflection on his own face:

But here's the really interesting bit and what makes me think Paul was naked in a bathtub when he took these last two photos:

Y'all, that's the fluffy fringe of a towel! You can tell that the threads are hanging down from it! These are very different from the clean lines of the curtain or the medicine cabinet or even the lines of their suit jackets! Paul was sitting in or on the edge of the bath tub when he took these photos of John! He wrapped a towel around his camera to protect it from getting wet! Cameras are generally made for right handed people so when Paul had his finger on the button on the right hand side. That means Paul keeping his finger on that button pushed the edge of the protective towel over the lens!

So I submit to you Paul McCartney's Eye of the Storm, where he submitted a film strip where he was staying in a hotel room with John and was most likely nude and bathing when he took John's photographs! Someone knocked on the door to get their attention while Paul was naked so John answered the door for them, while Paul followed him a little. John was enjoying having Paul right there for him too:

PLEASE get Eye of the Storm, it's such a great book and there's so much in it. Paul lets the pictures speak for themselves and wow they have one hell of a story to tell!

@perasperaadastratoday

[lovings4turn]

funny blurb where lando talks in his sleep. idk i just thought of it once and it sounded funny to me (bonus if the reader records him and shows him the next morning)

ᯓ★ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 (𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬)

ohhh nonnie darling i love the way your mind works i truly do 🤭🤭

"you're a liar."

"am not!" you protest with a laugh. "i swear, you were having a full on conversation with yourself, lando. it was honestly pretty entertaining, if you ask me."

"i do not sleep talk!"

the discussion has been going on for ten minutes now.

lando is adamant that he doesn't sleep talk, never has and never will, thank you very much. you, on the other hand, are sure you've bore witness to it, his last offence occurring just last night.

"lando, i heard you. i don't know what you were dreaming about, but you wouldn't shut up."

"what were you even doing awake?" lando counters with a raised brow, as though he's having some sort of 'gotcha' moment. "think the sleep deprivation's messing with your head, baby."

a dramatic gasp tears from your throat, and you shoot him an incredulous look.

"fine. next time, i'm recording it. i'd like to see you try and deny it then."

funnily enough, 'next time' rolls around quicker than you expect. because that very night, you're woken by faint mumbles coming from the sleeping man next to you, his thick brows furrowed as incoherent words spill from his lips.

you hold back laughter as you lazily fumble around for your phone, squinting as the bright light of the screen hits your bleary eyes. once you finally regain sight, you begin to record lando, glad that the camera was unable to pick up your endeared expression.

what he's actually saying, you're none the wiser. you manage to pick out a few words, your name sprinkled amongst more mundane murmurs of 'tv remote' and 'fucking freezing'. as if to emphasise his point, the sleeping lando rolls over, taking the better half of your duvet with him.

you're glad you have concrete evidence of this, because you know when accused lando will deny everything vehemently. you always knew he was a blanket hogger, and now, you've caught him redhanded in not one, but two crimes.

lando can talk for england, but there's no way he's getting himself out of this one.

when he wakes up to your phone in his face the next morning, only barely able to make out his own sleeping frame, he groans in defeat and pulls the blanket up over his head.

"oh christ, take the smug look off of your face, babe. don't wanna kiss you when y'looking at me like that."

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates - part 6

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: making out sessions getting interrupted :(

Word count: 5.4k

Masterlist

| PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 |

..

When the convocation of Australia, England and Spain came out Y/n was alone in the physio room at Arsenal while her other teammates were out on the pitch training,

It felt bittersweet.

She saw the names of her dear friends, and she saw Kyra’s name, which made her so proud, but she didn’t see her name. And she wasn’t going to. It would take more than just getting back into shape after her tibia had completely healed.

Y/n would have to work harder and train harder to prove she was even better than before to have another chance of being called into her national team.

Before, being in the squad had been a certainty in her life because of her great performance as a defender.

Now it wasn’t.

But she realised she wasn’t as sad as she thought she would be. Seeing Kyra’s name on Matilda’s squad was enough for her for now.

Y/n just had to learn to stay on the sidelines and, for the first time in her life, enjoy the football experience without being a player. Y/n would now begin her work as a hyper girl. As soon as she finished her exercises in physio she would look for Kyra and wish her–

“Oh, there you are!”

A voice said from the door of the physio room, ruining Y/n plans.

Y/n turned her head to the side and saw a man with a camera in his hand. It was Greg, the head director of Arsenal Media. He was a sweet middle-aged man, but the look on his face said he wasn't having the best day.

“Oh, hi, good morning,” Y/n said, tilting her head at him. “Can I help you, Greg?”

“Oh yes,” he said bluntly. “We’re filming some content today, for YouTube and Instagram.”

Y/n looked around the empty room, and then back at Greg.

“Okay? I think all the girls are out doing drills, they’re not here–”

“The team’s filming a Q&A with Russo, Williamson, and Wälti today,” he continued, completely ignoring Y/n.

“But the Wälti’s cat died so–”

“Lia's cat died?!” Y/n interrupted, her eyebrows raised as she sat on the physio bed. “That’s terrible.”

Damn, Lia loved that cat. Y/n should call her and ask if there’s going to be a funeral.

“Yeah yeah, whatever” Greg waffed. “She said she’s not coming to Arsenal today, so that's why we need you.”

“Me?” Y/n swallowed and pointed at herself.

“Yeah, Williamson said you'd be a good fit, she said you liked being in front of the cameras.”

Fuck you, Leah.

Y/n had been pretty ‘low profile’ since her injury. She hasn’t given any kind of interviews or statements. She hasn’t been to any Arsenal games to watch the girl. Nothing. She hasn’t even posted on her Instagram stories.

She used to like it. The cameras. The interviews. The attention. But not anymore. Y/n didn’t want people to see her injured, to think that she was any less of a player now. She didn’t want people to feel pity or sorry for her.

“Plus, we don't have anyone else,” Greg said, pinching his nose.

The man was stressed.

“How can you not have anyone else? There are about 25 people on this team.”

“We need someone with a personality, and you’re the least bad option I have at the moment.”

Y/n pointed at her leg. “I can guarantee to you, Greg, I’m not much fun to be around right now.”

“Yeah but–”

“Come on Y/n, don't give Greg here a hard time” Leah walked unexpectedly into the room and patted Greg on the shoulder.

Alessia was standing next to her.

“She doesn’t want to do it,” Greg said.

Snitch, Greg, that’s what you are.

“Of course, she doesn't want to. But she will,” Leah said smiling. “Because we need our charming, funny, and charismatic defender back on media day.”

“Are you on drugs right now? You’ve never complimented me before.”

“I'm trying to be nice,” Leah said, the smile on her face changing to a frown. “Alessia told me to be nicer to you.”

“It's scaring me,” Y/n said.

“See Alessia, I told you, being nice isn't our thing,” Leah said, pointing at herself and then at Y/n.

“Can't you two interact without bumping heads?” Alessia asked, looking like a mom who was tired of seeing her children fighting over and over again. “Just for one day, please?”

“No,” Y/n and Leah said in unison.

Alessia rolled her eyes and ignored them.

Alessia sat down by the physio bed, next to Y/n and wrapped her arms around her. “It’ll be fun, Y/n, I promise! It’s just me, you and Leah.”

“I just know one of the questions will be about my recovery” Y/n said, looking down. “I don’t feel like talking about it yet.”

“It’s been what? 2 and a half months since you got injured?” Leah asked. “You can dodge the questions forever, it’s better to talk about it while we’re doing some stupid card game rather than to give an interview. You can’t hide forever.”

Leah was right. But Y/n wanted to hide forever, at least until her bone grew back, at least. If it wasn't for Kyra and her patience and support, Y/n wouldn’t even be leaving the house.

“I just hate looking like this,” Y/n said, pointing at the cast, “I don’t feel like an athlete… I feel useless.”

Guess it was time to talk about feelings. Uhg.

“You’re no less of an athlete because of an injury,” Alessia said, patting her back. “If people didn’t see you as a player anymore, they wouldn't be asking for you to give interviews, or for you to come to our matches.”

“You make it sound like people only care about you when you’re active and playing, and that’s not true,” Alessia continued. “You mean something to Arsenal, you’ve been here for years. Not as much as Leah, of course, she’s been here since the year dot–”

“Hey!” Leah huffed.

Alessia ignored her. “What I’m trying to say is, that the Arsenal fans miss you, you pretty much disappeared from the public eye after your injury.”

Again, Alessia was not wrong.

“Come on, let’s go, I'm not as patient as Alessia and I miss having you at media day.” Leah nonchalantly picked up Y/n’s crutches that were leaning against the wall and handed them to her.

“I. Don't. Want. To” Y/n said slowly, marking each word as she pushed the crutches away from her face. “Get Kyra or Vic to do it.” Y/n pointed her finger in the air as if she had a eureka moment. “Get Beth! Beth loves to talk.”

“I don’t like listening to Beth!” Leah bit back. “She never shuts up”

“She’s literally one of our best friends, Leah,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes. “You should try to be nice to her, not me–”

“It’ll be fun!” Alessia, said, interrupting the bickering again. “It’s just a questions game like we used to–”

“Before I broke my bone?” Y/n completed.

There was a moment of silence.

“Yeah!” Alessia said innocently, smiling.

Alessia took the crutches from Leah, wrapped one hand around Y/n’s body and helped her to her feet. Y/n had no choice but to take the crutches so she wouldn't fall.

“Russo.” Y/n said in a warning, standing up and squinting her eyes at the blonde. “You’re even worse than Leah. Traidor.”

“ filming starts in 15 minutes,” Greg said impatiently from the corner of the room. “Wear your full kit, please.”

The man left the room. Poor Greg, he had to listen to her, Leah and Alessia yapping non-stop. His day had probably just got worse.

“I hate you all,” Y/n muttered but followed the girls as they left the physio room and headed for the changing room, just a few doors to the left. “Just wait till I get my leg back together, I’ll destroy you both in training…”

The two players ignored Y/n.

They entered the changing room and each of them went to their own lockers to pick up their change of clothes.

“They just want an update on how you’re doing, ” Leah said, a few lockers on her right, putting on her Arsenal shirt and looking in the small mirror on the wall “It’s not that hard.”

“They could just read my medical report, then,” Y/n said, picking up her own shirt.

She hesitated for a moment. She hasn’t worn an Arsenal shirt since her injury. It felt wrong, somehow, wearing it and not playing. Especially as the shirt had been in her locker since her injury, she hadn’t brought it home to wash it, it had a faint smell of dust from being in the locker for two months.

Y/n ignored her rambling thoughts and finally put the goddamn shirt on. Red always looked good on her, but today the colour felt off as if it was mocking her.

“Why are you being so difficult? It's just another video for media day,” Leah said again. “Nobody likes media day, we just have to do it”

“I like media days,” Alessia chimed in from the corner, putting her hair in a low bun. “At least we get to skip some parts of practice.”

“Why do you care if I’m in the video or not,” Y/n asked Leah, ignoring Alessia’s comment. “When you were injured you weren’t on media day duties.”

“Of course I wasn't, I was so snappy they gave up on trying to film me,” Leah said as she sat down and put on her boots.

“Oh, so that’s how you got away with it!” Y/n said, “I guess I’ll be snappy too!”

Y/n remembered when Leah got injured some seasons ago. The woman was completely impossible to be around. For a whole month, she could only talk to Leah on the phone because she refused to meet in person. Of course, Y/n, Alessia and the other girl stayed by her side until she got better.

Now it was Leah and Alessia’s turn to stand by her side. Y/n wasn’t so sure if she liked it.

“If Lia’s cat had just held on a little longer, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Y/n mumbled, “How old was he anyway? I feel like she had that cat forever”

“15 years,” Alessia said. “Poor thing had a whole life ahead of him,”

“No, it didn't. It was a geriatric cat,” Leah said. “But don’t tell Lia I said that she’s very sad it died.”

“Don’t call him it, Leah!” Alessia complained.

“Maybe we could come to Lia’s house later today,” Y/n suggested. “Check up on her, see how she’s doing.”

Lia was a sweetheart to her, it was the least Y/n and the other girls could do.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Alessia agreed. “We can stop somewhere and bring her some food, too.”

“Alright, sounds nice!” Y/n said. “Kyra can drive us, we just have to wait until she’s done with the drills and training.”

Y/n didn’t even ask Kyra if she could drive them to Lia’s or if she wanted to go to Lia’s, but Y/n was sure she wouldn’t mind.

“You know, I was living for the day I would see you as a passenger princess,” Leah teased. “Now tell me, is Kyra that much of a good driver?”

Y/n took a boot from the cubby next to her and threw it playfully at Leah.

“Shut up, man!”

Leah nudged the boot and threw it back at Y/n. She aimed it at Y/n and it hit her right on the head.

"Wow. Hitting a disabled person. New low, Leah." Y/n pouted, patting the sore spot where the boot had just hit.

Leah shrugged, “You started it.”

“Can you two stop throwing things around?” Alessia asked, picking up the boot from the floor, scared Y/n would retaliate. “And that's Kim’s boot, she hates people touching her things.”

“She shouldn't be leaving her stuff scattered around, then,” Y/n said, chin up.

“Bro you took it out of her cubby,” Leah chimed in.

The door suddenly opened and one of the girls from the media said they had everything ready to start. The girls nodded and said they’d be right out.

“Wow, I thought that was Kim for a second,” Alessia said, putting her hand on her chest.

“Me too, I was afraid I was going to get hit twice today,” Y/n said, smiling as Leah nudged her shoulder playfully.

“Come on, the quicker we do it the quicker we finish it,” Leah said, helping Y/n on her crutches as they headed for the media room.

“Here we go,” Y/n said, not very enthusiastically.

..

Y/n, Alessia and Leah sat at a table with cards in the middle. The mediator of the dynamic was behind the camera, telling the girls that he would chip in when needed.

Arsenal had asked for a natural, chatty video, so that’s what the three girls would do.

The camera was rolling and Y/n was nervous. But she didn’t want people to know that, so she played it cool.

Alessia read the first question on the card and aimed it at Y/n and Leah.

“Y/n, how does it feel to be off the pitch for so long, and Leah, how do you feel as a captain when a player gets injured?”

Alessia gave Y/n a sad look, knowing the girl didn't want to talk about the injury, yet it was the first question that was drawn on the card.

Y/n hesitated, she opened her mouth, but no words came out.

So much for playing cool.

Y/n looked at Leah, a silent cry for help.

“I’ve been in Y/n’s shoes before with my ACL, as you guys know. I was out of the pitch for 9 months, so a whole season and it was very hard,” Leah said, patting Y/n’s leg behind the table as if saying I got you.“Surgery is hard, physio is hard, being off the pitch is hard, seeing yourself without football is hard.”

Y/n gave Leah a grateful look and nodded as the captain spoke.

“It’s more mentally challenging than people think it is,” Leah continued, as Alessia nodded at her as well. “And as captains, we have to help our players by being a safe place for them to talk when they need to, and of course, give them a little push if necessary,” Leah smiled at Y/n.

“When I got injured, having Kim as a captain by my side was very important for my recovery. She pushed me more and more and that’s one of the reasons why I’m here today, so yeah, we captains are annoying but I’d say we’re necessary.”

“And Y/n, do you think your teammates are a vital part of your recovery process?” The man behind the camera asked, clearly wanting Y/n to address her injury somehow, not just Leah.

Y/n hesitated again, but this time she pulled herself together and formed actual words and sentences.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Y/n said, her hands shaking slightly.

Why was this so hard to talk about?

“They’re more than my teammates, they’re my friends,” Y/n continued. “Leah and Alessia have been a big part of this recovery, they always try to push me so I can be in the best mental and physical state possible.”

“We’ve seen you get closer to other teammates as well after your injury too, right?” The man asked.

Fuck, that was one of the few questions Y/n absolutely wasn’t prepared to answer. She had to turn this around somehow.

Y/n blushed, she just hoped it didn’t get on camera. But for the looks Alessia and Leah gave her, her embarrassment was very clear.

“Hmm, yeah, I mean, they all are all my support network at the moment, since my family is in a completely different country.”

Y/n tried to dodge the question. She knew exactly the answer the man was looking for, but she didn’t know if she should be mentioning Kyra. Again, it was not a secret they lived together, but Y/n didn’t want everyone to pry too much into their lives.

“But there’s one particular teammate who’s been helping you out more. You even moved in with her? Cooney-Cross?” The man continued.

Y/n could kill this media guy.

If Y/n’s blush had been subtle, it wasn’t now.

Y/n went silent, but the man behind the camera urged her to speak.

“Yeah, I mean, I needed someone to help me around, and my mum couldn’t come live with me, so Kyra offered and—uh—she drives me to physio, and we watch films sometimes—uh, a lot actually—like, not all the time, just—uh—yeah… and we cook sometimes, but not in a weird way, I mean, obviously not weird, just…”

“This is painful to watch, you’re embarrassing,” Leah murmured under her breath, enough so that only she and Alessia could hear.

“Medicines! She reminds me to take my medicines and she—uh—makes sure I don’t fall over in the shower.–”

“What she’s trying to say is that Kyra is very supportive,” Alessia said finally, looking at Y/n, her eyes screaming ‘Shut up, right now you’re making a fool of yourself’.

Leah was a decent friend and cut Y/n’s suffering short by picking up the next card.

The camera continued to roll. The next questions were less personal and more professional, based on actual football rather than Y/n’s private life, so she relaxed more and answered the questions without sounding stupid.

When they were finished the man behind the camera said they were free to go on with their day.

“Was that bad?” Y/n asked the girls as they left the media room.

“It was horrible,” Leah said.

“I bit, yeah. Sorry.” Alessia said.

“You and Kyra need to figure out whatever it is you guys have going on, you can’t freeze up and start rambling nonsense every time her name comes up!” Leah said, rolling her eyes.

Y/n blushed, again.

“Me and Kyra have nothing going on– we’re just good friends and– best friends even and we–”

“See! Rambling!” Leah pointed out.

“Look, I know you’re private about your love life, and I get it, and so do I,” Leah continued. “But me and Alessia have known you forever and we can tell that you’re in love, so there’s no need to try and keep it from us.”

“Besides, Kyra kind of told me she liked you a few weeks ago, so there’s no need to hide that from us,” Alessia added.

There was a moment of silence.

“Kyra said she liked me?” Y/n asked, trying to sound casual.

Y/, and Kyra had been living together for two months now, they had a well-established routine and from the outside, it looked like they had been dating for years.

They kissed and made out all the time. But still, they haven’t had the talk about what they are, because it just didn't feel necessary. Maybe they would never have that conversation and that was more than okay for Y/n. They were just living in the moment.

But to know that Kyra liked her enough to go and tell Alessia? It felt amazing. As if she was sure now that it wasn’t one-sided. Kyra felt something for her, she liked her.

Kyra wasn’t kissing her or spending time with her just because she felt sorry for her. She actually liked Y/n.

Kyra liked Y/n, and Y/n liked Kyra back very much.

Y/n wanted their relationship to be private, not a secret, so it was nice that at least Leah and Alessia knew about it, even if only superficially, so she didn't have to sit down with them and have an awkward talk about it.

Especially with Leah. The girls were closer friends, but they did have a hard time talking about feelings. The last time Leah had told Y/n she was seeing someone she had said she felt like someone was squeezing her chest. Y/n had told her it was love.

“You’re grinning,” Leah said. “Keep that to your lover girl, please. It's disgusting.”

See? Feelings.

Y/n and the other girls walked down the corridor of Arsenal, and when she turned left, Leah and Alessia turned right.

“Where are you guys going?” Y/n asked, confused.

“Oh– we have pitch training right now with the defenders and other forwards,” Alessia said softly as if she didn't want to upset Y/n. “The midfielders just finished their training so–”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Y/n said, faking a smile. “Go on, good training.” She said before turning around and heading for the changing room.

It didn't matter how hard they tried, Y/n still felt like an outsider because of her Injury. She felt like the only kid whose mum wouldn't let her go to a sleepover when the girl had to go to the pitch to play.

Y/n opened the door to the changing room and was more than surprised to see Kyra sitting on one of the benches with her back to her.

Y/n’s sad face quickly turned into a grin when she realised that Kyra was shirtless, just wearing her sports bra and training bottoms.

“Oh hello there,” Y/n said as she walked closer to Kyra. “It’s so hot in here, isn’t it?” Y/n said, waving herself cheekily.

Kyra turned around, smiling. “Hey, gorgeous. Come here.” Kyra patted her own tight.

Y/n put the crutches on the bench and carefully Sat cross-legged on Kyra’s lap. Y/n kissed her face.

“You smell like grass,” She said

“Good thing it's grass and not sweat.”

“Well since you bought it up, sweat too, I was just trying to be nice,” Y/n laid her head on Kyra's shoulder.

“You’re never nice to me,” Kyra said, a fake pout on her face.

“I am, I'm always very–” she kissed Kyra on the lips. “–very nice to you.”

“Try harder,” Kyra said, enjoying the kisses.

“Okay,” Y/n kissed Kyra more deeply, slipping her tongue into her mouth.

“It's it nice enough?”

“I'll think about it and I'll let you know,” Kyra teased.

“You're annoying, no more kisses for you,” Y/n mumbled but still pecked Kyra’s cheek.

“Please? A few more just because I’ve called to the Matildas?” Kyra asked.

Ym smiled and kissed Kyra's nose, then her chin. “Just because you got called up and I'm so proud of you.”

“I was so nervous I wouldn't get in,” Kyra said, stroking Y/n's good leg. “I was in the gym when Steph and Caitlin told me we were all in, it was like I could breathe again.

“You deserve it, baby, Y/n said, wrapping her arms around Kyra's shoulder to balance herself. “You've worked very hard.”

“How’s your day so far? I haven’t seen you on the bench on the pitch today,” Kyra said. Y/n’s breath was warm against Kyra's neck, her fingers tracing small circles on her back.

“I was at physio, and then I had to do some media bullshit,” Y/n mumbled. “Just so you know, don’t watch the next YouTube video on Arsenal’s channel, okay?”

Kyra laughed. “Why? Why did you say that?”

“Well, they brought you up and my brain just froze and I started rambling, but Alessia and Leah pulled me out of my misery as soon as they could.

“Oh? You rambled? Kyra said teasingly, kissing Y/n’s cheek. “You get nervous talking about me? That’s cute.”

“Don’t say it like that, come on” Y/n blushed. “I just wasn’t prepared for them to talk about living together, it caught me off guard.”

“I'll watch the video, just so you know.”

“No, you won’t not.”

“I will, we will be watching it together actually, I wanna see you squirm.”

Kyra’s hand slipped up Y/n’s leg, now almost to the end of her tight. The touch sent shivers down her spine. She pulled back slightly pulled back, her lips brushing Kyra’s ear.

“There are different ways you could make me squirm, you know.” she said against Kyra’s mouth. “fingers, tongue, str–”

Y/n wasn’t a sex freak, but oh God did she want to take the cast off completely so she couldn't finally have sex with Kyra.

Kyra put her palm over Y/n’s mouth. “How are you so blunt?” she said whisper-yelling and looking around the room.

“I just am,” Y/n whispered-yelled back. “why are we whispering there’s no one here, everybody’s…”

The door to the changing room cracked open, and for a split second, it seemed as if the universe was playing a joke on Y/n and Kyra. The girls’ heads turned at the sound of the doorknob.

Beth walked in, her innocent eyes trailing the room until they landed on Y/n and Kyra.

Kyra went pale as Y/n’s stomach dropped.

Beth froze when she saw Kyra and Y/n, a grin on her face replacing the innocent expression from before as she examined the position Y/n and Kyra were in very carefully.

“Am I interrupting something?” She said, wiggling her eyebrows. “You two look very comfortable.”

Y/n and Kyra looked at Beth like a deer caught in headlights.

“I got a cramp in my good leg,” Y/n said quickly and defensively while trying to leave Kyra’s lap. “so I had to– hm– sit down.”

“And there weren’t enough benches so she had to sit –on, hm– my tight,” Kyra finished, blushing hard. “Yep, that’s pretty much what happened!”

Beth looked at them like they were idiots.

“One, two,” Beth counted, pointing to each bench available in the room. “Three, four and five. Five branches available for Y/n” She said, smirking. “You’re a bad liar Cooney-cross, it causes me physical pain.”

Y/n struggled but was eventually able to sit down next to Kyra, but she kept a very safe distance.

“I’m not lying!” Kyra stammered, blushing even more. “I just offered my injured friend a place to–”

“Injured friend?!” Y/n turned to Kyra. “Are you serious?”

“What?!” Kyra shrugged in confusion.

Before Y/n could open her mouth, Beth was already speaking.

“You know what, I’m going to spare you both from whatever the hell that was,” Beth said, walking straight to her cubby “I just wanted to grab this,” she pointed at her shin pads now in hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude on a private moment.”

Y/n wanted to slap the grin off Beth’s face. She was enjoying herself far too much. The girl breathed in and out, trying, trying to think of how to handle the situation or rather, how to handle Beth.

“We can just never mention it again,” Y/n suggested, trying to sound chill.

Yn looked at Kyra out of the corner of her eye and it pretty much looked like Kyra was silently panicking. She was looking at the ceiling, not making eye contact with either Beth or Y/n, while her hands tapped anxiously on her own tight.

So much for trying to act cool.

“Oh no babe, I’m never letting this go.” Beth replied with a mischievous smile “I’m saying I’ll spare you both now because I'm late for the drills.”

“But we’ll talk about this on the way to Lia’s house,” she continued, the grin on her face stronger than ever, “ Leah tells me Kyra is driving you all to Lia’s, do you have a seat for me?”

“Yes, we got one last spot,” y/n mumbled, looking hopelessly at Beth.

Her plan to keep her relationship with Kyra on the download had just gone down the drain. Beth was an amazing friend, but the girl couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. She would eventually let it slip what she had seen in the changing room to the other girls. Beth just couldn’t help herself.

“Great!” She walked to the door. “Bye, lovebirds!”

Kyra's hands immediately shot up to cover her flushed cheeks “Oh God, that was so embarrassing!”

Kyra didn’t mind being seen with Y/n. To be honest she wanted the whole world to know it already. But at the same time, she wanted to keep what they had private. She wanted the affection and the sweet touches to stay in between them.

The less people knew the less they could pry on them. Although Kyra knew it wouldn’t last long, the Arsenal team was very close, they were more than a team, they were a real family.

Fortunately, there was no taboo about dating among players, especially at Arsenal, one of the clubs with the most couples.

Y/n smiled and reached over, gently pulling Kyra’s hands away from her face. She kissed the back of Kyra’s hand. “It’s okay, baby.”

“They’ll know eventually,” Y/n said softly but firmly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

Kyra’s tensed body slowly relaxed at Y/n's touch.

“Hey,” Y/n said, lifting Kyra’s chin so she was looking at her. “It’s not a big deal, okay?” She planted a gentle kiss on Kyra’s cheek.

“But you were straddling me,” Kyra murmured.

“So? It still could be a lot worse, trust me.” Y/n said with a warm smile, trying to reassure the girl. “Katie and Caitlin were much worse, don’t you remember?”

“Oh yeah, and Beth and Viv didn’t know what personal space was,” Kyra chuckled, before turning serious again as the realisation set in.

“Bloody hell Steph and Caitlin are going to tease the hell out of me, just like I did when they started their relationships.”

Kyra looked devastated. It was cute.

“Karma, baby,” Y/n joked, trying to ease Kyra’s nerves. “You’ll get through, yeah?”

“Whose side are you on?” Kyra asked grumpily.

“Yours, always.”

Y/n leaned back against the bench and picked up her crutches. “Don’t worry about it, yeah?” her tone was reassuring. “We'll figure it out. But now I have to go to my medical exam, I think the doctor is already waiting for me… you make me lose track of time,” she grinned at Kyra.

Before Y/n could walk away, Kyra grabbed her hip. “Hey, what was Beth talking about before? About going to Lia’s house?” Kyra asks, confused.

“Well, as my favourite driver, you were chosen to drive me, Less, Leah and, now Beth to Lia’s, her cat died,” Y/n said, patting Kyra’s cheek.

“Her cat died?!” Kyra asked, eyebrows raised. “Oh damn, I’ll have to pay Katie.

Y/n furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

“I bet the cat would last another year,” Kyra admitted, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Katie said it would be dead within a few months.”

Y/n was silent.

“You bet on Lia's cat’s life?” Y/n said, her mouth hanging open. “That’s like so fucked up, mate.”

“It was Katie’s idea!” Kyra said, holding up both hands defensively.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Of course it was, and you just went along with it, didn’t you?”

Kyra gave her a cheeky smile. “That’s correct.”

“Hm, you pest,” Y/n muttered, giving Kyra one last kiss. “We’ll go after the drill is over, yeah? We can meet in the car park.”

“Okay, I’ll wait by the car,” Kyra said.

“You don’t mind driving us, do you?” Y/n asked just for the fun of it, she already knew the answer. “I didn’t even ask you.”

“Nope, I don’t mind as long as you sit in the passenger seat,” Kyra said teasingly, her thumb caressing Y/n’s skin.

“Good girl,” Y/n said with the same teasing tone. “Now please put your shirt back on or else I won't answer for my actions.”

“You are a pervert,” Kyra said, rolling her eyes, but doing as she was told.

“Yes, that's me!” Y/n said, before blowing a kiss and leaving the room. “See you later, babe.”

..

| PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 |

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