#Not that I'll be going out in public if and when I get out of this shithole I guess.

[carriesthewind]

Good breakdown above, but I have one disagreement (and then some pure speculative theory based on that disagreement):

"During "Takedown", the band definitely had some sort of real fight onstage."

Yes, Rumi didn't look like she was acting - because she's a really good actor! As previous said, she knew the choreography. Choreography which included...ripping off her jacket and (quickly and discreetly) wiping off her makeup so that her new tattoos/bodypaint was then visible. Which neatly match the lyrics of Takedown ("when your patterns start to show..etc.") This was a clearly planned "fight."

Ok, now onto the speculation:

But who did look like they were acting? Mira and Zoe! In fact, they were acting almost entirely unlike their usual selves! Like a nightmare version of themselves!

Which leads to - okay, so everyone knows that Huntr/x's songs are super inspiring. They make you feel powerful and loved and part of something bigger! (Which is part of why the "fight" - even as short as it was! - felt so devastating!) Golden was a bit of a departure for them - still about being powerful, but much more vulnerable than they usually are. I think this was always intended to be a transition to What it Sounds Like, and in general, a more open sound - not just feeling loved and part of something bigger because you are powerful, but feeling powerful because you are loved and part of your community.

Think about Golden's emphasis on being "like I'm born to be" - yes, it's presented as powerful, but only being powerful in one kind of way. There is an unspoken fear of not being "golden" if you aren't who you're "born to be."

So: Takedown! It's a nightmare sequence, specifically giving form to Rumi's nightmare - "Zoe" and "Mira" uncover her secrets, the parts of her that are "ugly as sin," and they hate her for it.

So, Huntr/x has broken up, Saja Boys are given the crown. And I agree that Huntr/x was always set up to appear at their flash mob...but I don't think it was just them helping out our girls. I think this was planned from the beginning - they debut their first new song, Your Idol, where they sing "I'm the only one who'll love your sins".

So my theory is, that before the fans rushed the stage, the plan was to expand on the "fight" - the Saja boys would "seduce" each of our girls by playing on their fears and insecurities. And we would get a whole song for each of them, just like Takedown. Under this plan, the "fight" would have lasted much longer and they could have wrung a ton more publicity and story out of it.

And this explains why Huntr/x were giving the Saja boys special treatment! Because then instead of having each girl try to go solo for the "fight," they would have an entire other band backing them up. And it would explain why they were all still singing together despite being "broken up" - they weren't singing with each other, but with the Saja Boys.

But then the fans rushed the stage and the Saja boys needed a rescue. So Huntr/x ditched the plan and instead debuted What it Sounds Like way early. (Because that song is the end of the narrative arc of Golden and Takedown - the girls reveal their flaws to the world and each other - and encourage us to reveal our own flaws - because individually we are flawed but together our flaws make a beautiful harmony and guys I just love them so much....!!!!)

Anyway.

Again, aside from the fact that the "fight" was clearly all a choreographed act, this is just my speculation. (But it is what makes the most sense to me.)

And I'll be honest, if I am right, I'm kind of glad it worked out like this (except for the part where it seems like the Saja boys had a really scary experience, that sucks for them). A long-running "break up" would have stressed me out way to much, a few hours was bad enough as it is.

Look I'm sorry to anyone who thought the Saja Boys were a real band, but it was obviously fake from the beginning.

Huntr/x has been doing this gimmick for years where they'll put on a performance and some actors dressed up like demons will "interrupt" it or get into some choreo fights on stage and stuff. If you're a fan you know, the demons usually symbolize things like industry corruption, Mira's struggle with her family, Rumi being in the closet, etc, and there's lots of hints and secret messages to the fans in what they're wearing or how they show up. Check out huntresx5evah on blsky they've got an extensive examination of the "demons" over the years and what the messages to the fans are.

In the concert before Golden was released, the demons were dressed like flight attendants. That was the indication that something new was about to take off. @/queenhuntrixdontmiss and I speculated that it was going to be a new single and low and behold, it was.

But then the live performance got cancelled. It's an open secret that Rumi was having vocal issues, so that was probably not planned. They needed to buy time for her to recover, so, enter the Saja Boys -- a fake band of guys really clearly pretending to be demons, they release ONE single, do a bunch of b-tier variety shows for a week, nearly all of their public appearances have Huntr/x right there, keeping the hype and energy up until Rumi can get her throat polyps removed and furthering the routine where Huntr/x are supposed to be secret demon hunters and the Saja Boys are supposed to be secret demons.

Then the whole thing culminates in the Golden live performance at the idol awards, the big act with Huntr/x fake "break up" and the subsequent theatrics to make it up to fans for failing the first Golden performance. Huntr/x takes their obligation to fans very seriously, I've no doubt that they all felt terrible about having to cancel, so a free show was the obvious recourse to try and make it up to people. And they pulled out all the stops!

But the Saja Boys were never real. I mean they got real guys to pretend to be a boy band and do the dancing and lip syncing obviously, but come on, most of them didn't even have names.

[heavyhitterheaux]

The Quarterback

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: Joe finally said yes to being on The Quarterback series by Netflix. Follow Joe and Wifey through the 2024 NFL season and see how she supports him through year five of his career.

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

June 2021

It was official.

The two of you had now been married for a little over a week (well the public wedding) and were settling nicely into your brand new house.

The honeymoon would start next week, however, Joe told you that he had a surprise for you. 

“Just a little further, baby. Almost there.”

“I am wearing six inch heels, Burrow. You better not let me fall.” You told him as he was guiding you while covering your eyes.

“I would catch you if you do and when have I ever let anything happen to you?”

“Hmm, first time for everything.”

“Babe!”

“Did I lie?”

“I'm ignoring you. Okay, now open them.”

Listening to directions, you opened your eyes to see a white baby grand piano staring back at you.

Your jaw immediately hit the floor as tears welled up in your eyes.

He remembered.

Remembering back to your sophomore year when you told Joe that playing the piano was one of your first loves and then explaining to him a few months later that you wanted to get back into it, your wish finally came true.

And this wasn't just any piano, it was top of the line and you could only imagine how expensive it was.

“Oh no. You don't like it? We can get a different one.” Joe asked as he was clearly taken aback by you being so quiet.

“No, I love it. You remembered.” You told him as you grabbed his hand and tightly squeezed it.

“Just think of it as a wedding gift from me.”

“Thank you for this. I can only imagine how much this was, it's a fucking Steinway.” You said as you were running your fingers over the keys.

“And I'm definitely not telling you. Just like I'm not telling you how much your wedding ring was because that's not happening. But my wife deserves the best and if I have the ability to give her the best, I'm going to do it.”

“Maybe I'll learn my lesson one day and stop asking.”

“I highly doubt that. But for now, how about you play me something?”

“Of course.” You stated as you smiled and reached up to kiss him.

November 16, 2023 

Going to away games often wasn't something you normally did, but when your schedule allowed for you to specifically come to this one and a special request was made by Joe himself, there was no way that you were going to say no.

Sitting in the stands next to your mother-in-law, you watched intrigued as it was the Bengals ball. As Joe went to throw downfield, once the ball left his hand, he immediately grabbed his wrist indicating that something was wrong.

Robin quickly nudged you before glancing at you for confirmation on what the two of you had just witnessed.

“Did you..?” She asked and you slowly nodded while trying to stay calm.

A million thoughts started going through your head, with the main one being that this would be his second injury since starting his NFL career.

“I just pray it's not as serious as we may think it is.” You tried to keep a confident look on your face, but Robin immediately frowned.

“Only thing we can do at this point.”

You looked on with a nervous gaze as Joe jogged to the sideline and was speaking with medical personnel as they began to examine it.

It wasn't until he attempted to throw a pass on the sideline and winced in pain when you had your answer.

“Shit.” You quietly said underneath your breath. 

Not being too far away from the Bengals sideline, you could somewhat make out what Joe was saying at your attempt of reading his lips. 

It looked to be, ‘I can't throw’.

After there was another attempt to throw and with it being unsuccessful, Joe immediately threw his helmet to the side before jogging into the direction of the locker room.

While all around you, the loud chants could be heard.

“Fuck Joe Burrow!” 

January 2024

Two in the morning had suddenly crept up on Joe and he was still wide awake staring at the ceiling. You were curled up into his side, but basically laying halfway on him as his left arm was wrapped around you. 

He had been wide awake for hours even though he was exhausted. Glancing down at his right wrist, he sighed before feeling you shift beside him. Peeking your eyes open, you noticed that your husband was wide awake and the television was on a low volume probably in the hopes that it wouldn't wake you up.

Poking his side to get his attention, he looked down at you and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“What are you doing up, pretty girl?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I know that you're tired.”

“Just can't sleep.”

“What's on your mind? Talk to me.”

Hearing him sigh once more, he just shook his head, but there was no way you were accepting that as an answer.

“No, babe. You need to tell me and stop holding onto it. We don't do that around here.”

“What if I never play the same?” He asked you, clearly upset.

“But what if you end up playing better?”

“Baby, there is literally no other quarterback who has had this injury before so it's not like I have anyone to go to for advice about this.”

“Okay, you're the first one. So what? That should be more motivation to prove them wrong. I have literally never seen someone work as hard as you do and as passionate about their career. I have all the confidence in the world, no, the universe in my husband because he is amazing and was drafted first overall pick for a reason. Which I told you that you would be. Just like I predicted your Heisman win. You can do this, I know you can.”

“I still can't believe out of all things, I did that.”

“Nothing we can do about it now, but move on. You got your surgery, now it's time for rehab and I just got an idea. It'll probably help with the flexibility of it and keep it loose.”

“What's that?”

“I'll teach you how to play the piano. Might as well put it to good use.”

June 2024

It was around ten at night and you were in your bathroom doing your skin care routine when Joe peeked his head in to see what you were doing. You saw him out of the corner of your eye before he said anything to you and demanded that he joined you.

You had noticed a blackhead at the top of his back this morning and was determined to get it off one way or another. If he wanted to be a baby about it and scream then so be it.

“Baby! Come here and do this face mask with me.”

“But…” Joe started to protest and you glared at him making him slowly walk in and stand next to you.

“Good. Now sit.”

After he sat down, you ran a warm wash cloth over his face and stole a kiss before putting on the face mask and setting another timer for when he should wash it off. Yours would probably be going off in six minutes and you started to place your face products that you wouldn't need anymore back in the cabinet when you heard his voice.

“Babe..”

“Yes, my love?” You replied as you put the last product away and turned to him.

Joe patted his leg telling you to come over to him and sit. Once you made yourself comfortable, he opened his mouth to speak again, but hesitated making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Everything okay?” You asked as you wrapped an arm around him.

“I just want to get your opinion on something.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“I'm only asking because you're included in this and if you aren't comfortable you don't really have to do it, but…”

“Pookie, you're rambling. Out with it.”

“I said yes to being on the second season of The Quarterback. So it will cover the upcoming season.”

It was quiet for a minute and you looked at him confused.

“But, why now? What changed?”

“I mean if you tell me no, I won't do it.”

“I didn't say that. I just want to understand why you changed your mind. I mean ever since you came into the NFL, it has been all business with you. You keep things completely professional and don't really let people in about your personal life. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but baby, you hate cameras and you are only in front of them if you absolutely have to be. That show is pretty invasive privacy wise to your standards.”

“I know, but I had a talk with Peyton and it kind of opened my eyes more. This could end up being a good thing and I don't have to show anything that I don't want to. It can focus on me coming back from my wrist injury and how I'm starting to open up more and try new things.” He told you as you started to pick at the blackhead since you were at the perfect angle.

“As long as you are okay with it. You know I'm supporting you until the wheels fall off. I just want you to be completely sure about this.”

“I asked because you are obviously going to be in it when we start filming. You are one of the main reasons why I stay sane during the season. OW!”

“Got it! That blackhead had been bothering me all day. I just unclogged one of your pores. Can I at least get a thank you?”

“No.”

“But I can get a kiss right!?”

“You can have as many as you want once I wash this stuff off of my face. But on a serious note, thank you baby for always supporting me. I mean…. I honestly don't know where I would be without you.” He told you as he squeezed your hip.

“Aww, you give me way too much credit. You would still be a bad ass quarterback with or without me.”

“But with you, I'm better. I love you and don't you ever forget that.”

“Forever and always, babe. I love you more than anything. Now let's wash these off so I can get those kisses that you owe me.”

 Episode One: New Beginnings

The two of you were sitting side by side on the piano bench as Joe had told you this morning when you woke up that he had been practicing one of your favorite songs.

He didn't tell you which one in the hopes that you would be able to recognize it when you heard the first few notes and to ultimately keep it as being a surprise.

As he began to play the first few notes with the camera crew behind the two of you, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion on which song it was.

“Wait, I messed up. Let me start over. I guess I shouldn't even ask you if you know what song it is because it definitely didn't sound like it.” Joe quietly said as he laughed.

You shook your head at him with a smile as he started to play again with you recognizing it this time.

“AH! It's our wedding song!” You exclaimed as you recognized the complete intro to Beyoncé's Halo.

“I walked down the aisle to this even though by that time we had already been married for about a month and a half.”

“It was her last year at LSU, and I had just gone down to visit her and next thing we knew we were at the courthouse saying our vows.”

“And my parents found out when my actual degree got mailed to my parents house and my mom opened it because she obviously knew what it was to see that it said Y/N Katherine Burrow. I forgot to change the address and send it to Cincinnati instead. All you could hear on my end of the phone was her yelling.” You quietly said before laughing. 

“But the idea of learning how to play piano came from her since she had played since…” Joe trailed off as he looked at you for the answer.

“I was about 4 or 5 when I started.”

“I don't know if it helps with the flexibility and keeping my wrist loose, but it can't hurt at this point. It's something else to do since there's only so many documentaries and tv shows that you can watch all day. That gets boring real fast. I guess this is my calm before I prepare myself to do crazy shit each week.”

“You're getting really good at playing. Pretty soon, you're going to be better than me.” You smiled as you admired him.

“I don't know about all that. You have a lot more years playing than I do.”

“You'll get there. Maybe I can start putting in requests for my favorite songs.”

“Whatever you want, I'm all for it.”

“So I was at the game with my mother-in-law Robin when Joe hurt his wrist. At first I wasn't quite sure what was going on, but I knew for a fact that he was wincing in pain. So of course all these thoughts started running through my head. One of the main things being that this would be his second injury since he got drafted. After it happened all I literally heard people in the stands saying ‘fuck Joe Burrow’ as he's jogging off to the locker room and that was hard to hear of course. You never want to hear someone talk about your significant other that way. And I'm tiny, it's not like I can fight every person in the stadium who was saying it.” 

“I don't think I went on any social media platform for about a week. I usually don't go on there at all, but especially then.” Joe told you as he finished up the last few notes. 

“I didn't either. Because of course you have those people that want to talk shit about him and quite frankly, I don’t have time to argue all day because the stats speak for themselves that ultimately prove them wrong. But after all that, once we figured out exactly what was wrong, the wheels in my head immediately started turning about how we can get him ready for next season. I know how important this is to him so obviously I'm going to do everything that I can to support him. That came with a lot of pep talks and encouragement.”

“And that's what I love and admire about her. She's all in and she's been that way since we first met at LSU and she's never wavered. She watches film with me, helps me to memorize play calls. I literally could not have asked for a better partner to do life with. The same way that she supports me, I support her.”

“I'll be here for the long haul. I'm going to be here long after you're done playing in the NFL. But obviously going to enjoy the ride and journey that you're on right now. I'm very very very proud of you and I'll tell you every chance I get.”

“Thank you, babe. I just can't believe we're in year five already.”

“I know. Next time we blink it'll be year ten. I don't know if I'm ready for that, yet.”

“Maybe by then I'll have a beard.”

“And promise me not to cut it off.”

“No promises because if it starts getting on my nerves, it's going to have to go.”

“Whatever. I'm not giving up. Been doing it since your rookie year. We got close, but of course he had to go and mess it up. So now we're right back at square one.”

“Babe, it was itchy and irritating.”

“No excuse. They make beard oil for that.”

Episode 2: Damn Near Perfect

It was a small family gathering as Joe's parents, your parents, as well as your twin were sitting around the dinner table. Periodically, they would make the trip to Cincinnati to see both Joe and Ja'Marr play and to also spend time with you. 

Placing the last bowl on the table in the middle, you slid into your seat in between Joe and Ja’Marr, but not before pinching your twin which led to you laughing and him swatting your hand away.

“It's always good when we're able to all get together and this goes back to our days at LSU. Both me and Ja’Marr started the same year and our parents would be in the stands next to each other cheering us on. And meeting Ja'Marr also led me to meeting my wife.” Joe spoke as he looked at you and smiled.

“Ever since I introduced these two to each other, I have not known peace.” Ja'Marr stated as everyone laughed and you rolled your eyes.

“And to think that she had a boyfriend when we met, but I didn’t let that stop me. And you can see, I obviously won in the end.” Joe confidently said as he held up your hand to the camera to show off your wedding ring.

“I mean it was Ja’Marr's fault. You called me and said that you had someone you wanted me to meet. Guess you didn't know what you had in store for the future. Been third wheeling ever since.”

“Being the older twin by three minutes which she never lets you forget, is all she does. And what she says goes. Despite her barely being five feet tall.” 

“I'm 5’1 if I stand up really straight on my toes.”

“Get the measuring tape because there is absolutely no way.” Ja’Marr replied and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“I'm ignoring you.”

“You've been ignoring me since I introduced you to your husband so I'm used to it. All of your attention goes to him.” Laughter could be heard all around the table as you and Ja’Marr were of course bantering back and forth. 

“Not arguing with you there.”

“She would always work out with us seeing as she was an athlete herself and did gymnastics so that's how we became closer. Then when my parents found out we were together, they would go to her competitions even after I graduated to support her.” 

“Which I was so thankful for and when Joe was in training camp, they flew to Paris to watch me in the Olympics.”

“I remember when their first year was finished at LSU. Joe was back home for the summer and driving me absolutely insane. I stole his phone and called Y/N and I said will you please come and spend a few weeks with us before we go crazy because we are not going to make it if you don't. After I saw how she fit in perfectly with our family. I've called her my daughter-in-law ever since.” Robin confessed as she smiled in your direction.

“I wasn't even that bad!” Joe said as he tried to defend himself.

“You were. You were that bad.” Joe's dad, Jimmy added, making you laugh. 

“I just remember getting to Baton Rouge and not understanding a word that anyone was saying. It definitely took me a minute to get used to the accents.”

“It took you a little while, but you finally got it.”

“I remember the first time I saw Y/N get mad at someone. Luckily it wasn't towards me, but that accent came out and everyone around us got quiet. Ja’Marr is standing there with his mouth hanging wide open and all while I like lean over to him and ask, ‘what in the world did she just say?’”

“And then I told him that it was nothing good and to be happy that she wasn't talking to you.”

“I don't even remember that.” You said while looking at the both of them confused.

“We do.” They replied in unison as you just shook your head. 

“But we've just gotten closer ever since. Always considered him my brother, but it became official.”

“Our careers are tied together and we simply keep getting better and better. Sometimes I just have to give Ja'Marr a look and he immediately can read it and know exactly what I'm thinking.” 

“I had gotten a call from him telling me that he would bring me to Cincinnati, but hearing my name called at the draft was… something else. To be able to play with my college quarterback in the NFL was a dream come true since I know how well we work together.” 

“There was never a doubt in my mind that he was going to do it. I mean people on campus would ask me ‘is your brother going to the Bengals because of Joe?’ And I was like I have no idea, however, I believe that there is a 99% chance that that's where he's going to end up.” You added as Ja'Marr nodded and stole a nacho off of your plate which led to you smacking his hand.

“Still act as if they're three instead of 24.” Your mom stated as she shook her head and laughed at the both of you. 

“You weren't eating it, so I thought I would take it off your hands.”

“Along with any other time you see me with food. But I love watching both of them play and seeing how they're so in sync with each other. We all know that nothing but greatness comes out of it.” 

“Hope to be playing with each other for a long time.”

“Since we are all here, the most important people in our lives, we have something to tell you. Ja’Marr already knows so he isn't allowed to say anything.” You started to say and all of them looked at you confused.

“Are you sure that I already know? I think I might have forgot.” Ja’Marr said, trying to think about what you had told him recently of significance.

“Let me go and get it. And yes, Ja'Marr but I promise you that you didn't forget.”

Heading up to your room, you grabbed the five gift boxes before making your way back downstairs and handing one to each of them including Ja’Marr.

Once you sat down, they looked at you and Joe for confirmation to open them.

“Okay, go ahead and open them.”

Your mother was the first to let out an ear piercing scream when she saw her shirt that said, “world's best grandma’ with Robin's scream following soon after.

Both of your dad's were looking at one another and you honestly thought that yours was going to cry.

“YOU'RE PREGNANT!?!?” Robin yelled as you nodded and smiled at her.

“Yes and that's not all.”

“What else could there be?” Your dad asked and you looked at Joe to answer.

“There's two of them so we're having twins.”

“I'm so excited for the both of you.” Your mom asked as she came over to hug both you and Joe.

“You two are going to be amazing parents.”

“So that means I guess I can stop stealing baby uno all the time.”

“And buying him big screen tv's so he can watch Ms. Rachel and Gracie's Corner in HD.”

“I'm just setting him up for greatness.” You replied as you held your hands up in defense while your twin rolled his eyes.

“And now we get to add two more people to it.”

When everyone had left and it was just you and Joe, the two of you were sprawled out on the couch in the living room when you looked up at him.

“How are you feeling about this week?” You asked as Joe sighed before giving an answer.

Playing a division rival was always a big deal, but an even bigger deal when it came to the Baltimore Ravens.

“I'm feeling okay, my wrist is feeling good. But I know that I have to play damn near perfect for us to come away with a win.”

You nodded your head letting him know that you understood before replying.

“You got this, and I have all the confidence in the world in you. It might go better than you think.”

“That’s true. I guess we just have to wait and see.” He shrugged as we wrapped an arm around you in order to bring you closer.

“I think our parents' reactions earlier was like the highlight of my week.” You told him as he let out a quiet laugh.

“And Ja’Marr acting as if he didn’t know anything already.”

“I thought my mom was going to rupture our ear drums with how loud she screamed. But she gets to do this for a second time so I know that she's excited.”

“I can't even imagine how spoiled they're going to be. I see how you are with baby uno and I just think about that times two.”

Episode 3: Beautiful Minds

It was an early start to the day as the camera crew set you up in the kitchen as the mic pack was hanging from your back pocket. Joe had already gone to practice and the producers made you aware the night before that they wanted some footage of you and how you managed to help to keep Joe focused during the season.

Sitting at your island, the makeup artist came over to you to make sure there wasn't a hair out of place and if anything needed touching up before the cameras would begin rolling.

When you were finally settled, one of them smiled at you before asking, ‘What's up with Joe's obsession with fossils?’ This led to you essentially laughing and shaking your head as you tried to come up with a good answer.

“Okay so, Joe might be the biggest nerd, I mean that in a loving way, I have ever met. You know that one kid in class that was always so smart and basically too smart for their own good? That's my husband. We'll just be sitting down watching a movie and then he states some random ass fact. Like ‘did you know that so and so did this?’ And I look at him in disbelief like how in the world did you know that? He just shrugs and moves on to the next thing while I'm still sitting there confused. He does this all the time and then goes back to what he was doing as if nothing happened.” You answered followed by a laugh.

“But I surprised him as I planned a trip for him and his friends to go to this museum in Chicago. I set it up where they had like a special tour showing them exclusive fossils and ones that were kept essentially in the back and not on display for the public. I basically texted all of his friends, so they knew. But I told them to keep him in the dark about it. He was very excited and couldn't stop talking about it when he got home. I just love seeing him like that and I could listen to him for hours as he talks about his interests because he's so smart and I'm always learning a weird fun fact from him.”

Thinking back on it, this had been happening since the two of you had met at LSU. One thing you always admired about him was how smart he was. Often times, he would help you study for your classes while still being able to focus on his as well as football.

“Once you get him started on a subject, he literally has to tell you every single little thing he knows about it. So, you might as well get comfortable because I promise that you aren't leaving any time soon.”

The camera suddenly cut to Joe on the practice field talking to anyone and everyone who would listen about his trip to the museum.

“Yeah, my wife surprised me. I had no idea where we were going. The only thing she said was to pack a bag and that she would drop me off at the airport.”

“What kind of fossils were you able to see?”

“A bunch. There were way too many to count. We also met the little old lady who works on them.”

“Did any of them have eggs?”

“Yeah, a few of them did. I did ask if I could buy some, but they told me no. And knowing my wife, she would probably tell me no, too.”

—

It was now week eight of the season and the Bengals would be facing the Philadelphia Eagles at home. This was the white out game and you of course planned to wear your white jersey that had Joe's number, but said Wifey Shiesty on the back of it. 

Jimmy and Robin had mentioned that they were getting to the stadium early in order to get a head start on tailgating. Depending on the time that Joe would have to leave for games, you would either leave with him or end up coming later when the crowds had hopefully died down a bit.

Today since your in-laws specifically asked for you, you would leave a little early and be able to see Joe after the game which would hopefully end in a win. 

“Babe! I'm leaving.” You yelled up the stairs as you grabbed your keys that were hanging in the foyer. 

Joe peeked out of your bedroom and came down the steps two at a time before catching you in a kiss before sending you on your way.

“Did you read your note that I left for you?” You asked as he brought you into a hug and you tightly wrapped your arms around him.

“I did, thank you. And I know I tell you this all the time, but you look good in my jersey.”

“AHT! Not so fast, my name is on the back instead of yours.” You told him as you broke away from him to turn around so that he was able to see it. 

“When did you get that? I don't remember you having it. And technically half of my name is on it.” He asked as his fingers ran over the letters.

“Your mom bought it for me. She also told me that she had another surprise for me but I guess I'll see it once I see her at the stadium.”

“I'll see you when I get there. I love you.” Joe told you as he leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose.

“I love you too. Good luck today.”

“You'll be there so that's all the luck that I need. And text me to let me know that you got there safely.” He replied as he gave you one last hug.

“I will. Promise.” 

Pulling into the parking lot at Paycor, you looked down at your phone to see a text from Robin letting you know where they were.

Once you grabbed your phone, keys, and purse from the passenger seat, you quickly started walking to meet them.

When she spotted you, you immediately got pulled into a hug by her and Jimmy along with a few of Joe's cousins that had come to the game to support him.

“Hey, you two really weren't playing when you told me that you planned to start early.”

“Jimmy has literally been up since seven in the morning driving me crazy. Oh! Here's your gift! I got us matching jackets in New Orleans!” Robin told you as she held it up. 

It was a white base with black stripes which was perfect to go along with the theme today.

“Oh my gosh, it's perfect! I love it. Thank you.” You told her as she helped you put it on.

“I saw it and immediately thought you needed one right along with me. How's Joe feeling today?” She asked as Jimmy handed you a lemonade.

You gave him a quiet thank you before answering her.

“He feels good. He went to bed at like dusk because he's such an old man during the season. We woke up around the same time and ate breakfast together. He was still getting ready when I left the house, which reminds me that I need to text him to let him know I got here safely.”

Pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you opened the text thread and quickly began typing.

You- Just got here. With your parents and I'm safe.

Hubby 💕- Good. I'm leaving soon. Might need you on the sideline for another good luck kiss before the game starts.

You- Whatever you need, baby 😉

“And how are you feeling?” Jimmy asked as he was flipping burgers and hot dogs on the grill.

“Well morning sickness absolutely sucks and I can't wait until that part of the pregnancy is over with.” You told them as you sighed. Robin nodded her head indicating that she understood where you were coming from. 

“Other than that I'm good and I'm definitely going to need some nachos once we get inside.”

As promised, a few minutes before the game started, you made your way to the sideline as security guided you.

Your twin spotted you first and quickly ran up to you while picking you up into a hug.

“Hi, twin!”

“Hey, you staying down here for the game or going up to the suite?”

“Going up to the suite. Your best friend requested me down here before the game starts and then security is going to take me upstairs.”

Joe's head turned as he heard your voice and saw you talking to your twin as he made his way over.

Ja’Marr went to go and mess with Andrei leaving the two of you by yourselves.

“Mrs. Burrow.” He stated as he smiled at you.

“Mr. Burrow, I am here on the sideline as you requested.” 

“Was the jacket the gift my mom bought you? She literally spoils you more than I do, I swear.” He asked as he reached out to touch it.

“Hey! We had to be matching today! And it's comfy. Stop being a hater.” You replied as you wrapped it tighter around you. 

“Have no idea what I'm going to do with you.” He teased as he pinched your cheek making you smile.

“Absolutely nothing because you love me. Now come and get your kisses so I can go upstairs and get my nachos.”

Joe leaned down and gave you several kisses before the two of you separated.

“You better win because of all these kisses I'm giving you.”

“Hmm, let's hope.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you more.” Joe replied as he winked at you.

“AND ME!”

“Yes, Ja’Marr, love you too.” You said as you laughed at him.

You playfully shook your head at him before giving him one last kiss on the cheek and making your way upstairs with security guiding you and the camera crew coming behind you. They had been with you for a good portion of the past two days and would be setting up everything to record in the suite as you all watched the game.

Once you were in the suite, you took your rightful place next to Robin as all of you anxiously waited for the game to start.

One thing you absolutely loved was watching games with your in-laws and the majority of the time it consisted of you and Robin screaming during all four quarters.

The game started off well and then it took a turn.

Looking at your husband, you could tell that he was frustrated and it seemed like it was the same scenario week after week. They would be leading or the score would be extremely close and majority of the time it would end up in a loss.

One thing you always did after games like these starting back from your days at LSU was make sure that he never doubted himself despite what the outcome may be. At the end of the day, he's still an amazing quarterback even if mistakes are made. It simply meant that it would give him more motivation in the weeks to come after. 

Episode 4: Now or Never 

Looking on from the ottoman that was in your walk-in closet, Joe was browsing through different looks that Kyle had picked out for him and brought earlier in the week trying to decide on which one he was going to wear for week ten's prime time game against the Baltimore Ravens.

You could tell that he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do and you immediately stepped in to help as you placed your phone down beside you in order to give him your full attention.

“Can I pick out your outfit this week?” You asked excitedly as Joe turned around and looked at you with a smirk.

It was funny because it seemed like the sports blogs could always tell when you specifically had a hand in deciding his outfit.

One of everyone's all time favorites was the 2021 AFC championship look that you put together. The special touch was the necklace that he wore that you had given him.

Nodding his head, he quickly agreed as he then held out his hand to help you up so you would be able to see all of the options. 

You quietly browsed through all of the different colors when suddenly a striped sweater caught your eye. 

“Hmm, what about this?” You asked him as you held it up to show him.

He had always been big on the material of what he was wearing and if he thought it would be comfortable enough.

As his hand ran over the material, he gave you a nod of approval.

“I like it. I can see myself wearing it. I like the colors.”

“Me too. Okay, we're halfway there. Now all we need are pants and shoes. I'm just trying to think because I don't want you to get cold and we all know how bipolar Maryland's weather is.” You replied thinking back to the times where you literally had to pack all four seasons worth of clothes in your suitcase. 

It was quiet for a few minutes as Joe was admiring you from behind. He started to play with the ends of your hair as you were still trying to decide what the rest of his outfit would be.

“Mm these pants and these shoes. How do we feel?” You asked as you looked at your husband for approval.

“Hmm, I like these shoes better.” He told you as he went and picked up another pair. 

“Okay let's do that then. And what bag are you going to carry? Do you want your black backpack and the other black bag? I doubt that everything is going to fit in the backpack anyway.”

“Yeah, probably both.” Joe replied as he quickly agreed with you.

“Well since we have your outfit now, you might as well finish packing your suitcase to get it over with. One less thing that you'll have to do later.” You told him as you walked over to it in the corner and began to pick it up.

“Leave it there, babe. I'll get it.”

“It's not heavy because it's literally empty. I can carry it.” You said as you brought it over to him.

“And you can wear like a white shirt under the sweater to keep you warm. No way in the world you're coming back to Cincinnati sick. Did you take your vitamins today by the way? I had left them out on the table for you.”

Joe had begun packing his suitcase as it laid it down on the floor and unzipped it before he answered you.

“I got them and took them right after I woke up. And I'm hoping you took yours too.”

“I haven't felt the best all day and woke up sick again, but I'll take them before I go to sleep. But how are you feeling about this week?” You asked as you sat back down in your original spot. He quickly walked away from packing to sit next to you as you ran a hand through his hair. 

“Feel pretty good. Playing in prime time, so I definitely have to play my best.”

“Think of it as redemption for what happened last time you played them. I mean you're doing everything that you can to the best of your ability. We all know that hard work pays off.”

“But is it going to be enough? That's the question every single week.”

“Well we can't think like that. You have to take it one step at a time. I know the season hasn't gone the way you wanted to, but still proud of you just the same. I'll be cheering you on from here and will be waiting for you to get back. If I didn't have anything to do, you know that I would be there.”

“I know you would.”

–

When the game ended and the Bengals ended up losing in overtime, you simply waited for your call from Joe. After every away game, win or lose, he would call you. This was something that the two of you started at LSU and it simply continued into his NFL career. Except when there was a period of time that the two of you were at odds during his rookie season.

Your morning sickness had turned into an all day event and the result was you barely eating anything which you knew he wouldn't be excited about. It was now almost one in the morning and you figured that eating some fruit would be a good option.

As you were cutting it up, your phone rang and you heard your husband's voice.

“Hi, babe.” You quietly said as you popped a strawberry in your mouth praying that you would be able to keep it down.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He greeted you with a sigh.

“I thought that you would have been asleep by now since the game went into overtime.”

“Couldn't go to sleep without calling you first. Just had to hear your voice.”

“Because it helps you sleep better?” You asked even though you already knew the answer.

“Been that way since 2018. I also had to check on you and the babies.”

“I couldn't eat today because my morning sickness turned into an all day sickness event. And remember she said if that keeps happening, I'm probably going to have to get an IV and get nutrients through that. I'm trying to eat fruit now and so far so good. It's just frustrating. I want a cheeseburger.”

“Babe, you have to try and eat. I mean you're eating not only for yourself but for two other people. Make sure you make the appointment on my off day so that I can go with you.”

“Already did through the app on my phone. And I know but I really don't have an appetite for anything.” You replied as you bit into a grape and immediately spit it back out.

“And it's now clear that they don't like grapes. I couldn't even swallow it.”

“We'll figure out a solution that works. It won't be like this forever.”

“It better not be. I need some cheese fries to go along with that burger.”

“I'll buy it for you as soon as we get this morning sickness under control. But for now, I'll let you sleep.”

“Can't wait to see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh, wait! Babe, on your way home can you get me some gummy bears?”

Episode 5: Stumbling Blocks

“I literally cannot believe that you bought a batmobile.” You told your husband as his head laid in your lap.

“The opportunity was right there, babe. I had to take it.”

“And how much was it again?”

“2.9 million.”

All you did was look at the camera with a look of disbelief and shake your head. 

“Can you customize it how you want or?”

“I think I can, but I'm not even going to get it for a year. I got it from Warner Brothers. So it's the one from The Dark Knight.”

“Then you better be able to fit two car seats in there.” You playfully scolded as he laughed at you.

“See, Joe loves DC while personally, I'm a Marvel girlie. Especially Chris Evans, oops, I mean Captain America.” Joe rolled his eyes before replying back to you.

“I thought Thor was your favorite?”

“Him too. But I know you're really excited to get it. So I guess that means we're going all in right?”

“All in how?” Joe asked as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Babe, you need the cape, you know the entire outfit. It's only right, we can't half-ass it.”

“Oh, and the mask. Could you imagine me rolling up to Paycor on game day like that?”

“The kids would definitely love it and want to take all the pictures with you. Like is that Joe Burrow or is that Batman? But wait, will you even be able to drive it on the street?” You curiously asked. 

“I think they're making it so I can but as is, I definitely wouldn't be able to.” Joe answered as he grabbed the remote and turned to the Lions game.

Jared Goff popped up on the screen and you had to admit that they were doing really well this year and deep down you wouldn't be surprised if they actually did end up going to the Super Bowl.

Their hard work had definitely been paying off.

“Jared's doing really good this year.”

“He has. They've really turned things around from the previous years.”

“I mean obviously with the position that we're in is the last place we wanted to be. It seemed like it all came down to the last play of the game and we just never delivered how we were supposed to. It's not absolutely impossible to make the playoffs at this point, but it's like you're playing catch up.” Joe spoke and you nodded your head agreeing with him.

“You just never want to be grasping at straws when it comes down to the wire. I mean we've won seven games in a row before so it's not impossible. But if we actually make the playoffs, I'll be as happy as a clam.”

Looking at the scoreboard from your spot in the suite for week 13 against the Steelers had you absolutely baffled.

The bright white numbers staring back at you, 44-38.

Just like Joe had mentioned previously, it ultimately always came down to the last few plays of the game and they just couldn't do enough to get them to victory.

Looking at the fact that your husband had been putting up amazing numbers this year in regard to how he's playing, you just wish that the score would reflect it. 

He had been worried that he wouldn't be able to play the same because of his wrist injury, but he exceeded even his own expectations since this season had honestly been the best that he had ever played. 

The disappointment on his face was evident as he made the long walk back to the locker room. You always waited in the suite until more people cleared out before going downstairs to meet him so that way he could do his presser and then go home. 

All you did was look over at Robin and sigh and she gave you the same look in return.

Close, but no cigar.

Now you were trying to think of anything else that you could do to support him through this since it was a known fact that he was beyond frustrated, but you were honestly coming up short.

But one thing you could get excited for was that his birthday was coming up.

Next week they would be playing the Cowboys and Joe's birthday was the day after. You knew that he was probably going to be tired so sometimes low key would be best to celebrate.

It also came to your attention that the players would all be animated and featured on a special episode of The Simpsons.

They desperately needed the win because the last thing you wanted for Joe to have a depressed plane ride home from the game. 

–

“Babe! You look cute as a Simpsons character!” You told him as you pulled up the Bengals post on Instagram and was flipping through all of the players that they had posted.

“I don't have a chin, but they at least got the hair right.”

“You are so….” You trailed off before laughing as you looked at him.

You broke the news earlier to him in the day that you wouldn't be going to the game, but instead would be staying here.

Also, your pregnancy had been kicking your ass so that didn't help.

The reason being to get everything ready for his birthday which just consisted of you two spending the day together. You were also waiting on a few more of his presents to arrive. 

“What? I literally don't have a chin in that picture they posted.”

“I'm going to be watching both. I'll pull up the Simpsons version on my iPad and then the TV will be playing the actual game. I remember watching the Toy Story one last season and it was really cute.”

“I just wish you were coming with me, but I know you haven't been feeling the best.” You heard him say as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“No, but at least I'm able to keep a little bit more food down than before. I don't think I can last on a plane right now. If it was closer then it would be different.”

“I know, you got precious cargo in there.”

“Exactly. But I have a good feeling about this week. Well I say that every week, but I know that you're going to put up amazing numbers. And someone has a birthday coming up!” You teased as you reached up to pinch his cheek.

“All I want for my birthday is a win and maybe a few kisses from my wife.”

“That can be arranged.”

—

Your phone had gone to voicemail for the fifth time as Joe was trying to call you after the game and him being worried was an understatement.

Talking with you earlier, you never mentioned that you were doing anything out of the ordinary and would be at home watching the game since you had been mentioning it all week.

You never missed his calls.

And if his timing was right, it had to be close to one in the morning back home. 

But if you were too tired to stay up, you would have at least sent him a text to let him know.

“Ja'Marr, you talk to your sister?” Joe asked as he was doing his best not to panic as the two of them were walking to the bus to head to the hotel. 

“No, not since earlier. Why what's wrong?”

“She's not answering any of my calls or texts. She never does that.”

“Hmm, what did you do?” Ja’Marr asked as he raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing! I swear absolutely nothing! I talked to her before we got on the bus to head to the stadium.”

Ja’Marr pulled out his phone and dialed your number to get the same exact result.

“She's not answering me either. I can get our neighbor Ms. Bethany to check on her. I have her number, hold on. And for some reason it seems like that lady never sleeps.”

Ms. Bethany was your older neighbor who lived across the street from you and who would always be baking you, Joe, and Ja'Marr cookies, brownies, cakes, etc. She's gotten better with only doing it for you during the season, because Joe was convinced she was trying to make him gain thirty pounds.

A few minutes felt like hours as Ms. Bethany told Ja'Marr that she would walk over to the house and check on you.

What startled her was the lights still being on in the foyer.

Joe couldn't help but to have a pit in the bottom of his stomach which was currently rolling in knots.

Deep down he could tell that something was wrong.

The bus had pulled in front of the hotel and everyone was exiting as Ja'Marr's phone went off.

“Here she is now. She's probably fine. We're probably worried about nothing.”

Nodding his head, Joe agreed but the look on Ja'Marr's face would soon tell him otherwise.

“Wait, what? Just now? Where are they taking her?” He asked as he was firing off questions left and right.

“What's going on? Is she okay?” Joe asked as he frustratedly ran a hand through his hair.

“Okay, okay. Um, I'll tell him. Thanks, Ms. Bethany. We should be there soon.” Ja’Marr finally hung up the phone and sighed.

“Well? She's fine right?”

“Ms. Bethany saw her through the window. The light in the foyer was on and she was laying there not moving.”

“What, what do you mean?!”

“She called 911 and she's going to go with her to the hospital. She was breathing when they got inside. I'm guessing that she might have fainted.”

 Episode 6: Headspace

Both Joe and Ja'Marr wasted no time hopping onto a plane and trying to get home to you as soon as possible.

They caught the first flight that they could back home, and Joe's mind was racing.

Did you hit your head when you fell?

Were the babies okay?

How long were you down there before Ms. Bethany found you?

It was around four in the morning when they finally touched down in Cincinnati and went straight to the hospital that Ms. Bethany had told Ja’Marr they took you to. She had sent a text while they were both on the plane telling him that she wasn't going to leave until they both got there.

Being thankful for the almost empty emergency room, because the last thing they needed was to be swarmed by fans, Joe went up to the security desk to ask for you.

“Here to see someone?”

“Yes. My wife, Y/N Burrow. My neighbor told us that they brought her here.”

“Okay, she's in room four. I'm going to open the door to my left, once you get through, go immediately to your right.”

Joe nodded as the directions were given to him and both him and Ja'Marr received visitors passes.

Each step he took, his heart rate increased not knowing what he was going to walk into.

He peeked inside of your room to see Ms. Bethany keeping a close eye on you as you slept with your hand resting comfortably over your stomach.

He immediately walked over to you and kissed the top of your head before turning to Ms. Bethany.

“Hey Ms. Bethany, thank you for going to check on her. Who knows what would have happened if you didn't.”

“You're welcome. Of course, I think I heard the nurse mention that they're going to admit her to the mother/baby unit. Just to watch her and the last I heard they were just waiting for a room to be cleaned. As soon as it is, they'll take her up.”

Nodding his head, Joe went to sit next to you as she went to greet Ja'Marr.

They spoke for a few minutes before she turned to the both of them.

“If you need me for anything, just call. Doesn't matter what time it is. You know I think of Y/N as my bonus daughter. Let me know later how she's doing when she wakes up.”

It was around seven in the morning when you peeked your eyes open to see both your husband as well as your twin knocked out on the couch underneath the window in your room.

Glancing around, you saw that you weren't in the emergency room anymore and that Ms. Bethany probably went home as soon as they had gotten there.

Adjusting a little bit to make yourself more comfortable, you placed a protective hand over your stomach and sighed.

Last night was an absolute blur. One minute you were finishing up making Joe's cake for his birthday and wrapping his gifts and heading upstairs to wait for his call before going to bed and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in the emergency room with nurses around you trying to get an IV, setting up the monitor to check on the babies, and doing your vitals.

One of them saw the panic in your eyes and immediately did her best to try and calm you down.

You thought you had been doing better with your food intake, but that proved to be false after the doctor had explained to you about you being severely dehydrated and in not such harsh terms but ultimately ‘starving yourself along with the babies.’

It was decided that you would get essential nutrients and vitamins through your IV line and they would watch you for twenty four to forty eight hours.

First thing out of your mouth was that ‘I need to call my husband’ as you were trying to do your best not to cry but a few tears slipped out anyway as Ms. Bethany quickly assured you that he already knew and was on his way.

You were obviously scared and wanted him with you at that very moment, which you knew wasn't going to happen for a few hours.

After spending a good portion of 2021 in this very same hospital as well as rehab, you quickly grew a distaste for them and wanted to stay far away.

And you would now be spending Joe's birthday in the hospital.

Reaching over to the nightstand, you saw your phone which you were guessing that Ms. Bethany had grabbed when she found you and sent a quick text to your parents as well as your in-laws telling them what happened, but to reassure them that you were fine. But knowing them, the in-laws would probably be to you by nine and your parents would more than likely get the first flight out of New Orleans that they could find.

Joe suddenly opened his eyes and looked over in your direction seeing that you were awake. Throwing the blanket that was covering him to the side, he got up and made his way towards you. 

As soon as he was close enough, you dropped your phone in your lap before opening your arms in order to hug him.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes before Joe kissed the top of your head and wiped away the few tears that had slipped out.

“I'm here, don't cry. You're okay.”

You moved over in the bed to make room for him so that he could sit next to you and once he finally got comfortable, you immediately grabbed his hand and held it almost as if you were scared that he was going to disappear.

“How you feeling, baby?”

“I feel a lot better even though I don't even remember how I got here but Ms. Bethany told me once she finally got me to calm down.”

“I knew that something was wrong when you didn't answer my calls so Ja’Marr called her to go and check on you.”

“I was just trying to get everything ready for your birthday and… oh my gosh… baby, I ruined your birthday.” You trailed off as you started to get upset again.

“Stop because you didn't ruin anything. Only gift I want is knowing that my wife along with my twins are okay.”

“But…”

“No.”

“But I did ruin it and I know that I scared you. I'm sorry about that.”

“Babe, stop apologizing. I promise you that I'm not mad and you didn't ruin anything. Like I said, you being healthy is more important.”

“I'm going to make this up to you, I promise.”

“Only thing I want you to focus on right now is getting better.” Joe told you and all you did was sigh.

“Happy birthday by the way. I love you.” You told him as he wrapped an arm around you and you leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you, and I love you more.”

Feeling your phone vibrate, you quickly grabbed it to see that it was no one other than Robin texting you back.

Second mom- Y/N! I'm on my way! Just talked to your mom and they're getting a flight as we speak. Me and Jimmy will be there soon!

“Your parents are coming to check on me so that means I'm going to need for you to actually go home and sleep in our bed to get proper rest.” You explained to him and he instantly made a face.

“Don't fight me on this. When they get here, you and my twin need to go and sleep. You can come back later and I promise that I'll still be here.”

When the cameras began rolling again, Joe refused to mention what had happened to you and what made you end up in the hospital, because he felt that he was showing them more than enough.

However, it didn't matter anyway simply because it eventually came out in the news later that week that you were seen for an undisclosed illness, much to his dislike but there was only so much that he could protect you from with being in the public eye.

The topic had soon moved to about being in a good headspace during the season and you reflected on when you brought up the idea for Joe to get a therapist during his rookie season.

“I really don't use social media a lot in general, but I basically avoid it during the season. I think that it's important to protect your mental health. One week they're saying great things about you and then the next week it could be the complete opposite and that can really mess with your head if you let it.” Joe said and you nodded your head as you agreed.

“I still remember during your rookie season with us being so far away from each other, I proposed the idea of him getting a therapist. Because ultimately I couldn't be there with him during that time and I needed for him to be able to vent to someone that wasn't necessarily me.”

“And I'm happy to say that I still have the same one four years in. I admit that I was a little hesitant at first because I was like I literally tell her everything so why do I need to talk to someone else? And she just said that it never hurt to get an outside perspective on things.”

“It is very tempting to go online and see what people were saying and a lot of times, I can look at it and it doesn't bother me, however, I do have to periodically give myself breaks and when we have our mental health days, no one is allowed to be on their phones. I think during the Olympics earlier this year when my medal ultimately got taken away, I did not go on social media for like a good three month stretch because my emotions were high and the last thing I wanted to do was say something and end up regretting it. But I told him that now the entire world is watching you and I don't want you to get caught up in it and ultimately feel like you're drowning.” You explained and tried not to dwell on your disappointment surrounding it.

“Definitely one of the best decisions that I ever made. My first is marrying you of course and that medal definitely should have been yours and I don't care if I sound biased or not. My wife is always right.” Joe turned to you as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Always trying to get brownie points.” You replied while shaking your head.

“Is it working?”

“Maybe a little.” You replied while giving him a soft smile. 

The season was winding down and the Bengals desperately needed a win. Luckily one came to them against the Titans but being the perfectionist that your husband was, he couldn't care less.

And it showed. 

Watching from home with your mom that had been staying with you for about two weeks now to keep an eye on you when Joe wasn't here, you watched in real time the team kept getting false starts along with five yard penalties. But what really surprised you as the game ended and the camera was immediately on Joe on what was happening on the sideline.

On the bench.

Helmet thrown to the side.

And it looked like he was having some choice words with Zac.

“Oh, well that's not good.” Your mom said as she looked over at you.

“I'm actually a pretty good lip reader. I can't make out everything that he said, but there were definitely a couple of f bombs in there.” You quietly said as your eyes went wide.

“And that goes to show you how passionate he is about what he does. There is no secret how much of a perfectionist my husband is and he's been like that since we first met. He just loves football and obviously wants to perform well with the rest of the team. I could see them making silly mistakes all day, however, we got a win out of it. It's something, but knowing Joe, that plane ride home is about to be awkward as hell. But onto the next, just have to keep moving forward. Broncos up next.” You said while smiling at the camera.

Episode 7: Final Snap 

Coming off a high of winning against the Broncos the previous week, Joe was anxious to get a win against the Pittsburgh Steelers so the Bengals could have a chance at a playoff spot. It required some math with certain teams having to win or lose games, however there was nothing in his power that Joe could do about that.

The only thing that he was focused on was the task at hand.

Seeing as Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania wasn’t very far from home and your morning sickness had slowly started to dwindle down, you and your two best friends, Erin and Alisha decided to make a road trip out of it. Erin had come to the Broncos game with you and Alisha promised to make the next one before the two of you had gotten off of a facetime call that same night.

You lost track of how many times Joe had reminded you to dress warm because of the temperatures as you were currently deciding what your outfit was going to be.

Just then, your phone went off telling you that there was a facetime call from none other than your husband.

“Yes, baby?” You greeted him as he smiled at you.

“What are you wearing? It's cold up here. Make sure you dress in a few layers.”

“I will, promise. But I haven't quite decided yet.”

“And make sure you wear one of my Bengals beanies. They're on my side of the closet on the far right. I just don't want you to be cold.” Joe told you out of concern.

Joe knew that he couldn't talk you out of coming to the game, so he had to take every precaution to make sure you were okay as well as the twins.

“Okay, I'll make sure that I grab it. Erin and Alisha should be here soon. You feel okay today?” You asked and he quickly nodded.

“So far, so good.”

“I can't wait to see you. You better kick ass today even though I already know that you're going to.”

“Right back at you and I'm feeling good about this one, so let's hope it goes that way.”

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Whatever happens, whether you guys end up in the playoffs or not, I am so proud of you and what you have done this season, especially coming back from your wrist injury. They might not have nominated you for MVP, but you will always be MVP in my eyes.”

“I love you and that means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

“Right back at you. Now let me go get dressed. The quicker I do that, the faster I get to you.” You told him as you stood up from your bed.

“Remember layers!”

“I got it, Burrow! I know, I know! See you soon, babe.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you began sifting through your closet, since you were already wearing a cami, you grabbed one of your many Bengals jerseys with Joe’s number and layered a thick Bengals sweatshirt on top. Then moving over to Joe’s side of the closet, you found one of his beanies before taking off in the direction of the bathroom to do your hair.

Hearing your phone go off from the bedroom, you finished quickly brushing your hair before throwing the beanie on top and then going to answer it.

Erin and Alisha were downstairs waiting for you and then the three of you would begin to make the four hour trip there and back.

It was now around the third quarter and the Bengals had been playing well, when Joe suddenly got tackled by two different people at the same time making you gasp.

“Oh…. That did not look good.” Alisha quietly said before turning to look at you.

“Oh my gosh. Is he okay? He’s not moving.” You  blurted out as you watched in anticipation as the medical team was now on the field tending to him.

“He kind of moved his legs. That’s a good sign.” Erin had said as she tried to reassure you and calm your nerves.

“That was a hard hit and it looks as if he fell on his neck.”

“This is the one thing that I hate. I mean people don’t really think about this, but football is a dangerous sport. If you get hit the wrong way, you can get injured and so many different things. I try not to have that at the forefront of my mind when he goes and plays, but once in a while it does creep back in. I just pray before every game that he doesn't get injured. But I know that the best possible people are down there making sure that he’s okay.”

A few minutes had passed before you finally saw your husband sit up and eventually stand up as he jogged to the sideline.

“Look! He's up! He's up!” 

You could finally let out the breath that you had been holding and continue to watch the game, but deep down you were still worried and would be until he was directly in front of you and you inspected him yourself.

The same thing was true as it relates to every bump and bruise that he would get. 

You knew that he got annoyed by you doing it, but deep down he was thankful for it.

When the game finally concluded with a win, you wasted no time in making your way downstairs in order to see if Joe was okay. 

“Are you good? Because..?” You asked and of course started to inspect him after the half hug that you gave him, wasting no time.

“I'm good baby, I promise. My neck is definitely going to be sore tomorrow but some very large humans just fell on top of me.”

“The second that it doesn't feel right, you need to tell me. Understand?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Yes ma'am.”

“Don't scare me like that, Burrow. You know better.” 

“I'll try not to.” 

“Just wanted to check on you before I left. I love you and I'll see you when you get home. Take motrin because your neck is going to hurt like hell tomorrow.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Burrow. See you at home.”

The Bengals playoff spot would not be officially secured unless the Chiefs won their next game which no one was happy about.

Your fate being in another team's hands.

You and Joe were at home sprawled across the couch as the game played on the TV in front of you. He was currently eating some type of sandwich that he made while you were deciding if you wanted chicken nuggets or a pop tart since your cravings had been all over the place.

“Babe, are you sure you don't want me to make you anything?” Joe asked you and you shook your head no.

“No, there's really nothing in the house that I want.”

“What do you have a taste for?”

“The babies want chicken nuggets and pop tarts.”

“I… that's gross.” Joe said as he turned up his nose.

“It's the babies, not me. Ja'Marr is going to bring it when the game is over.”

“Okay.”

“But can I have a bite? It looks really good.”

“I… you just said you didn't want anything in the house!”

“I don't, but I want your sandwich. Only because it's yours. Give it here so I can make sure it's not poison.” You said as you went and sat next to him and reached for it.

“Nope, put your hand down. I'm feeding it to you so that you don't end up snatching it and taking it for yourself. And after I already ate half of it? I'd be dead by now.” 

“I… you don't trust me!?”

“When it comes to food? No.”

You were in heaven as you tasted his sandwich and quickly tried to take another bite.

“Okay, I had my fix. I think I'm okay now.”

“Are you sure? Going once, going twice.”

“I'm sure, but can I get some of your water?” You asked and Joe just shook his head as he laughed before handing it to you.

It was clear that the game was not going in the direction as you anticipated it would and it was clear that Joe was disappointed in the outcome.

They were playing as if they had never seen a football before.

“I mean, I guess it's the offseason now. I'm relieved but disappointed at the same time.” He said as he shrugged while the post game was starting.

“But, you made it through the season in one piece and that is something to be thankful for.”

“That’s true. Can't argue with that.” 

“And you're done giving me mini panic attacks. I thought you were going to send me into early labor a few times.” You joked as Joe shook his head and laughed at you.

“Until next season of course where we'll get to do it all again.” He replied as he winked in your direction.

“Hmm, what's the first thing on your list to do?” You asked as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Take a nap.”

[rainymitskicain]

Thought I Lost You

Pairing: Clark Kent x gn!reader

Summary: Ever since a photo of you and Superman kissing was leaked and went viral, you have tried to keep a low profile. Never going public about your meta-human abilities or telling anyone besides Clark. While he uses his abilities to be Superman, your abilities come in handy at the end of the fight to heal him. When you get taken by Luthor, you start to understand the consequences of that picture.

(You can heal yourself and others, but you aren't aware of how far your powers can go! And healing still drains you! kinda like wolverines healing but slower and more painful!)

Warning: Slight spoilers for Superman 2025, hurt/comfort, seizure, temporary main character death, angst, reader has regenerative powers, kidnapping, Lex Luthor

Word Count: 1k

Oh, how you wish you had super strength instead of regenerative powers. Something that would actually get you out of this predicament you find yourself in. Strapped to a chair, Lex Luthor on your left with a revolver in hand, ready to play some fucked up Russian roulette, and Clark, weakened by Kryptonite, held in a cell, unable to do anything but watch.

You remember being in your downtown Metropolis apartment, watching the news, about Clark’s, or rather Superman’s secret harem, an explosive thud in your apartment, and then black. Nothing. Until now.

“Now, let’s get this game started, shall we? I ask you, Superman, who are you?” Luthor speaks, lifting the loaded revolver to your head.

“Luthor, please, don’t. They have nothing to do with this.”

Clark

He’s in some floating glass cell, lying on the ground in pain, face swollen, wrinkled, with black lines across his face.

“Cl- Kal-El! Kal-El, are you okay?” you corrected yourself, the pain you feel seeing him like this almost causing you to slip. You feel the cold barrel of a revolver press against your forehead harder, and a click, safety off.

"Now I'm not asking again, who are you?"

Clark groans in agony. “I told you I'm Kal-El, that’s my name,” he huffs, it taking him all of his strength to speak.

“Don’t say anything, Kal-El.”

The gun goes off, you brace for impact, but nothing happens.

Clark cries out, relief that the chamber was empty, but fear that the other wouldn’t be.

You stare into Clark’s eyes, trying to convey so many emotions at once, but mainly to say

It’s okay, I love you.

Trying to remind him that you can survive this. You hope. You’ve never been severely wounded before.

You both know that a bullet to the head might be too much for your powers to handle. But you needed to let him know, just in case.

“Superman, it's okay. Kal-El, it's ok, I’ll be fine, remember.”

"Who raised you, Superman?!"

Clark continues his pleas, “Luthor, they have nothing to do with this, pleas-”

“It’s ok, I love yo-”

Game over.

The revolver snaps back as it goes off, a snap so loud it's silencing.

Your body rocks to the side, the blunt force causing the chair you're attached to to start to wobble.

The air is still, shock coursing through Clark, not believing the sight in front of him. You’re dead, you’re dead.

You. Are. Dead.

Clark let out an agonizing scream, nearly animalistic. Like someone reached into his chest and tore his heart out for all to see, because that’s what happened.

You were his heart, his solace, the one thing that made everything make sense. His scream shakes the cell he’s in, Luthor's unfazed, a look of disappointment on his face.

“Hm, I didn’t think it’d go by so fast. I was hoping to get some more questions in. No matter! I'll just put your precious dead lover in the cell next to you so you can think over the consequences of your actions. Maybe looking at their corpse for the next few hours will be motivation enough. Anyway, I’m off. I’ll find another person you care about and kill them, too. Maybe that Clark Kent you constantly interview with.”

Clark doesn’t pay any mind to his words; his focus is on you. He doesn't know if you can come back from this. Your lifeless body hangs off the chair, blood dripping from the side of your scalp, chest not moving.

He knows you might come back, but that doesn't stop the voice in his head from telling him they're gone, and it’s your fault.

As Luthor leaves, your body is removed from the chair and placed in the cell next to Clark’s, unmoving, just lying there, dead.

Clark puts his hands on the glass separating you two as he continues to sob, repeating like a chant, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” as if he said it enough, you’d be brought back to him.

After what feels like hours to Clark, he suddenly feels the slightest twitch of movement coming from your cell, a sound, a beat. It was almost completely unnoticeable to anyone else, but Clark wasn’t anyone else; his super hearing meant he felt the slightest shift in the air from your energy.

Your fingers twitched, just one, then your hand, suddenly your whole body is convulsing, like you’re having a seizure, a violent one.

Clark flinches at the sight.

You answer his prayers with a groan, “That… that really hurt”. You turned your body towards the glass wall to your left, catching Clark's eyes, more swollen than when you last saw him, and rimmed red. You felt your heart break at the pain you must’ve caused him

“Told you… I'd be… back,” you try to smile as you wince, still catching your breath. Coming back to life after being dead for over an hour was very taxing on the body, it seems. Your powers were working hard to repair the damage done to your brain, your skull. Regenerating brain matter isn’t an easy feat.

Clark tries to laugh, feeling relieved, but still struggling through the grief he was experiencing not even a minute ago, “You’re really back, I thought, I thought I’d lost you, for good.”

You reached out to touch the glass separating you two, meeting his hand, “You’re never losing me.”

You both smile, your strength coming back to you as you turn to Metamorpho, who has been watching your interaction this whole time. Shock evident on his face at your resurrection, tear stains around his eyes, “How-how, you-what”

You gave him a small smirk before nodding your head towards the kryptonite that seems to be where his hand should be. “You think you can turn that off now? I’d like to get out of here only dying once today.”

Metamorpho looks at you and Clark before nodding his head.

Oh, you were going to make Lex Luthor pay.

A/N: First Clark Kent Fic! Sorry is the ending is too rushed! I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible, hope y'all like it!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love ya!

Please do not copy or repost. Love and thank you all!

[lovergirl0681]

Work Experience | KA12 x reader

PART 1/3

summary: when the blogger, microinfluencer, f1 superfan gets and internship that might get her more than just another point on her college resume

notes: half smau half fic, contains brainrot 😍, reader is a student, we are going to pretend there was a 2-week break bw spain and monaco, PLEASE translate the parts that aren't in english ive hidden lil jokes

youruser78

♡ liked by: yourbbf1, yourbff3, and 753 others.

physically ILL right now bc wdym i'm a social media intern for the adidas motorsport connect program with MERCEDES AMG PETRONAS IN BARCELONA FOR THE SPAIN GP?? thank you SO much to @.adidasmotorsport and my school for this opportunity, i'm really looking forward to working with one of my favorite teams.(ALSO MY MERCEDES F1 x ADIDAS SNEAKERS CAME IN THE MAIL AT THE PERFECT TIME LOOK HOW STUNNING)

yourbff1: making coffee and calling cabs has never looked so good youruser78: actually i'll be making brainrot reels of george russell yourbff1: what :( i want to come youruser78: no xoxo

user1: yes my favourite hyper niche nanoinfluencer has posted

user4: oh to be pretty girl with a substack and a niche following who got selected to go to barcelona for an f1 internship yourusername: eternally grateful for ts fr

user: long ahh caption

user2: WHEN are we gonna see corporate girl fitchecks girl i saw you on Watson last week buying second hand miu miu youruser78: soon bb

user3: come back the kids miss you

yourbff2: CORPORATE WIFE !! youruser78: only yours

yourbff3: the two full years of having that fugly diy mercedes hat you made because the real one was too expensive finally paid off pls dont thirst after lewis hamilton or whoever youruser78: CAN YOU NOT EXPOSE ME ON MAIN youruser78: also lewis is in ferrari now, kimi antonelli is his replacement yourbff3: omg that little italian boy you keep drooling over user5: lmao absolutely fatal for y/n youruser78: THIS IS A PUBLIC ACCOUNT yourbff3: you have 2.3k followers ur not in danger poox ur niche and chic thats why ur iconic youruser78: do not preach chiconomics to me rn 💔🥀

mercedesamgf1

♡ liked by: kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63, youruser78, and 831k others.

We will be moving on to the Spanish GP next with high hopes after a rocky weekend in Monaco. See you in Barcelona!

tagged: georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli, f1

georgerussell63: Thank you so much for all the support, here's to big wins in the future.

kimi.antonelli: looking forward to racing with my favourite teammate @.georgerussell63 !! georgerussell63: I'm your only teammate? kimi.antonelli: 💙 georgerussell63: I'll take it youruser78: and by 'it' he means alex albon liked by kimi.antonelli user9: NO WAY KIMI LIKED THIS HE'S A RUBON TRUTHER CONFIRMED

user10: actually what is this comment section

oscarpiastri: looking forward to racing with you guys this weekend (and hopefully beating you again) user8: divaaa

13.2k more comments

It was drizzling when you landed in Madrid. After the flight, you were greeted at the gates by a driver holding up a sign with your name on it who took you to the Adidas office compound, a mammoth building with a vintage facade and a glass and marble interior, with humongous full-length windows in each room. Tired from the flight and too focused on your nerves to do anything productive, orientation, a cafeteria lunch, and handing out passes went by in the blink of a tired eye. You were led to a room (ironically enough, by another intern, although this one was older and likely paid a proper salary) that you were going to share with another intern, one who was here as part of the Young Engineers program. The girl was sat down on the plush rug, notebooks and her laptop sprawled out before her.

"Hi, I'm Sara. Y/n, right? I really like your hair," she said, hazel eyes glinting, reflecting the sun's light, as she got up to greet you. "I took the liberty of stalking your social media and I just have to say, I'm a fan."

You laugh. Typically your audience was niche enough for it to never overlap with your regular life, so you weren't quite used to it. "Thanks, you're the sweetest."

Over the next hour or so, you guys got to know each other better. Sara was Catalonian herself, and loved watching the Barcelona Grand Prix in person every year. She was also an engineering prodigy. She knew all the best spots in town, and was friends with a couple other interns in the outreach program. By the time the sun began to set, you felt like you had known her for years, and you two already had plans made for going out, shopping and exploring Barcelona.

You both got notifications on your phone- a message from your manager, Mina, to come down to the conference room. There, you were given a task- an 'icebreaker assignment'- to freestyle, make anything related to your internship role and the Mercedes team. Your assignments were going to be collaborative, and you were paired with a photography intern, Ayesha.

"Hi. Ayesha. Nice to meet you. You're Y/n, right? I'm friends with your roommate, Sara" the girl smiled, warmth in her deep eyes.

"Really? How cool. Nice to meet you too, Ayesha! So, do you have any ideas or themes you want to include in the assignment?"

Turns out, she did. The photographers had gotten to go see and shoot some engineers and drivers in the morning, and Ayesha had the perfect dramatic shot of George. After some deliberation on song lyrics and font sizes, and a lot of resizing, recoloring, font hunting, editing and adjusting, you were done.

"I think that is just perfect. You're a prodigy, mate," said Ayesha, looking at the finished product with a smile on her face.

"Me? That picture was absolutely cinematic, Ayesha."

"Stop, you're flattering me. Anyway, I've got to run and finish up on some editing work. Maybe you, me and Sara could grab a bite tomorrow morning?"

"I'd love that," you said. Barely a day in and you had already made friends. So far, things were definitely looking up.

adidasmotorsport

♡ liked by: kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63, youruser78, and 831k others.

Let's see what Spain holds for us! Our social media and photography interns with the Track Connect program made this ad to encourage Mercedes' club classic. Stay tuned to see more of their work!

tagged: kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63, sara.01, youruser78, ayeshascamcorder, mercedesamgf1

kimi.antonelli: how come i don't get one? youruser78: working on something for you as we type🫡 user4: in my professional opinion as a day one og y/n follower she is absolutely crashing tf out right now yourbff1: yep. she is. youruser78: no im not gng 💔 user4: sure hon

user12: who the hell is y/n man being a fan of this sport is a full time job yall introduce new characters every week user3: she's our professor of chiconomics youruser78: stopp 🤭 user9: she's a social media intern for adidas motorsport

georgerussell63: whoever made this is my hero user3: @.youruser78 PULL UPP user2: it's @.youruser78 youruser78: appreciate it george 💙

alex_albon: that's my pop princess user11: YOUR pop princess?????????? user12: this is a confirmation right? user9: hmu if u need a third alex

16.1k more comments

The next day, you woke up to your alarm. In the bed next to you, Sara was sitting, eyes closed, back against the wall, with her wired earphones in. Choosing not to disturb her, you walked over to the window and pushed away the sheer curtains, and you let out a soft gasp at the view. The street that you hadn't been able to see properly in last night's darkness was bathed in the Catalonian morning sun, and the old cream facades and coastline in the distance, which you could see well because the compound was on a hill, made for a postcard-perfect view. The streets were alive, slowly waking up - people came out to walk their dogs, pick up their newspaper, and coffee shop owners flipped the signs in their store windows.

You were nervous, but also so extremely excited. Today, finally the fact of where you were started to feel real to you. After a couple more minutes at the windowsill (you had to be shaken out of your people-watching reverie by Sara), you showered, got dressed, did your hair and makeup and headed out the door with your roommate to breakfast.

Downstairs, in the dining hall, you sat down at a table with Sara and Ayesha and you all opened your phones to see a huge, hectic, and genuinely scary schedule freshly emailed by Mina.

Ayesha let out a low whistle. "Damn. That is...packed. It's gonna be fun but I doubt I'll even have time to pee."

Sara ran a hand through her hair, eyebrows reaching for her hairline. "I'll be outdoors all day- durability testing on the walls and rails. Nothing too difficult but it is going to be tiring. Fun, but tiring."

You looked down at your own similarly packed schedule and smiled wearily. "Guess who's gotta write and edit a full feature article and map out at least three social media posts, AND shoot a reel and then edit three more." It was going to be fun, you had tons of ideas, but calling the deadline harsh would be understatement of the year.

Sara broke the nervous silence. "You know what we should do?"

You and Ayesha looked up, worry still creasing your brow, mentally trying to draw up a day plan that won't end in you two dead from exhaustion.

"Coffee run. We'll go out, get ourselves a nice drink to start off the day and a pastry to go with it, maybe have a walk around the block. I don't live around here but I visit this area a ton, so I know the best spot. It's really nice. Just what we need."

"Sounds great to me," said Ayesha," Y/n?"

"Sounds amazing to me too. Let's go."

Sara led you down the main town street and then into a narrow and long back-alley that led down to the coast. It was lined with small balconies extending out of canopied windows, the rails barely a meter apart across from each other. The ground floor of the block was full of tiny shops and cafes, their insides overflowing out onto the cobblestone - stands, racks, flowerpots, and porch tables leaving just enough space for the three of you to walk side-by-side.

Sara stopped in front of a little coffee shop and bakery. The shop window, shaded by a terracotta awning that bore the shop's name, "la maceta", displayed delicious fresh pastries and outside it hung window boxes overflowing with carnations and a flowering yellow cat's claw vine covering half the outside wall.

Chimes rung through the tiny eatery as you opened the door and walked in. You and Ayesha sat down at a small table by the window while Sara went to the counter to place an order.

The moment Sara sat back down, the chimes at the door rung again and you turned, reflexively, and when you saw who it was, your jaw all but hit the floor. He walked to the counter, and started ordering coffee in effortless Spanish, and it was only Ayesha dropping her bag that pulled you back to reality and made you close your mouth.

"Tot- Mr Wolff?", you asked, shocked.

He turned around to look at your table. The coffee shop was empty except for you three, he must not have noticed you were there. He narrowed his eyes, confused, for a moment until he seemed to recognize you.

"Ah, yes, you are interns from Adidas, no? I come here to get me and the boys some fuel to get the day started, and Martina here makes the best coffee. I usually send someone, but today..." He shrugged.

"Disculpe, ¿cuál fue su pedido?" asked the short woman, who you now knew as Martina.

Toto turned back to the counter. "Lo tengo impreso," he said, and gave Martina a neatly folded slip of paper from his pocket.

Martina gave him a weary smile and went into the back with his note, as Toto picked up a phone call, speaking with someone in angry German.

You, Ayesha, and Sara all looked at each other in shock and confusion, unsure of what to do. Your original plan of giggling and gossiping didn't seem to quite fit the circumstances. A boy wearing an apron came to your table, rousing you all from your frozen state, and set down your coffees and a pastry on the table.

Sara cleared her throat. "Right. this is, uh, coca de fruita, its a flat pastry with candied fruit and this place puts the most amazing lemon cream on top."

The pastry looked delicious, but right as you were about to try some, you heard the voice of the Mercedes team principal, in English this time.

"These are only two coffees," he said, confused. "Donde esta la cafe con leche?"

"El otro tardará un poco. Se nos acabó la leche. Puedo darte otro americano si quieres," said Martina.

"No, el no beberá eso," said Toto, frustrated.

You were grateful for your high school Spanish classes and (albeit inconsistent) Duolingo streak because you were able to make out at least some of their conversation. They had seem to run out of milk, and when Martina said she could give him anther americano, Toto said whoever it was for wouldn't drink that

From your left, Sara spoke up. "Podemos llevarte el café si lo deseas. It's really no trouble, they're very fast and we'll be back at the office in 15 minutes anyway." She had offered to bring him the coffee.

Toto smiled politely, worry still creasing his brow. "That's very nice of you, but we will be at the garage, not in the office."

"Well," you said tentatively, "I'll be going to the garage to speak to some engineers and shoot some content. I could get it."

Toto seemed to be on the fence but when his phone pinged with another text message, he looked down at it with worry and winced. "I'd really appreciate it. Go to the garage, myself or George and Kimi will probably be there. Just hand it to one of us." His phone rang again and he picked up the call with a sigh, speaking in hurried...Polish? as he left the cafe.

"Well," said Ayesha, watching Toto go, "I mean, getting your boss coffee is part of the quintessential intern experience."

Sasha started laughing, and you joined in too, still recovering from the interaction you just had.

🏎️💨

After having coffee and some coca at the cafe, you parted ways with Ayesha and Sara and got on a bus to the track, your bag slung across your body, your laptop and notebooks barely fitting in it, and various little charms and keychains- sentimental keepsakes- hanging off of it. Headphones in, you stared down at the coffee in your hand and small boxed pastry- a coca, like the one you had before, but with a custard cream topping instead of fruit.

The bus reached your stop and you headed to the garage. You scanned your pass and were cleared to go in, and the moment you entered, you saw Mina, she was chipper (as always) and frantic (as always).

"Oh, Y/n, Hey!" she said, slightly out of breath as strands of her short blonde hair fell out of the tiny ponytail she had tied them into. She noticed the coffee in your hand and seemed to realize something. "Oh, right, you must be the intern Toto was talking about. The boys are right through there, they're actually having a break right now."

You didn't have the time to thank her before she ran off. You went where Mina had pointed, a lounge with dark marble floors and framed prints of Mercedes formula one cars on the wall. At the centre of the room-you had to blink a couple of times to register the sight- sat George Russell and Kimi Antonelli on a grey leather sofa, two phones with the stopwatches on lying on the coffee table as they both...put together Legos? The empty boxes by the table showed you that they were in fact working on building tiny Lego versions of the cars they raced in.

George saw you first and paused his lego-making and his stopwatch, causing Kimi to look up as well.

You blinked and it was as though you had only just remembered that you did in fact have vocal chords and know how to speak.

You held out the cup like it explained everything. "Uh, Mr Wolff asked me to get you coffee. It's for," you hesitated. Kimi? Kimi Antonelli? That guy? "Mr Antonelli?" It came out more like a question than a statement and you cringed the moment the words left your mouth.

Kimi smiled sheepishly and accepted the coffee. "Thank you. And Kimi is fine."

George was barely able to hold back his laugh, and when you looked at him you eased up a bit too (infinitesimally so, but still). He must have noticed you looking because he schooled his features back to neutrality-or at least tried to- and spoke up. "Sorry, it's just...he's a literal child." George looked down at the pass hanging from your neck and saw the logo of the Adidas Connect program and something seemed to click. "The outreach internship? Wait then you must be his age." The Brit could no longer hold back his laughter. "Sorry, sorry. Really. Um, how old are you, er-" he paused to squint at your pass-" Y/n? Oh, wait you're the girl who made the brat edit! It's so great to meet you, I love your work", he said, looking down at your pass for your name.

Kimi looked at you in awe. "No way, that's so cool. God, I knew I recognized you. I sent that edit to Ollie too, he loved it. He's a big Charli xcx fan."

"Thanks you, I'm a huge fan of yours too. And uh, wow, Ollie Bearman being a Charli xcx guy...actually kind of makes sense. I can see him listening to 365. And I'm seventeen," you answered, looking to George.

"Oh, so you're handling school and all this? Impressive," commended Kimi, and he sounded like he really meant it. "If I had school, an internship, and had to bring some kid coffee and end up having to listen to George laugh like that, I would have lost it. You're stronger than me."

You laugh at that, easing up tremendously. And, maybe you were seeing things, but when you saw Kimi he looked almost pleased that he had made you laugh.

George huffed exaggeratedly. "Your generation has no respect for your elders, do you?"

"Sorry George," you grinned sheepishly.

"No, no, Y/n, he's right," said Kimi, resting his chin on his hand, eyes narrowed in thought, "he really is quite old."

George scoffed, indignant, and reached over to ruffle Kimi's hair, eventually managing to make a mess of the curly locks after the Italian tried to duck and dodge the attack. "Ha. You may try, but nobody can escape some action from these expert fingers," said George triumphantly.

Kimi froze in place, eyes widening, and your reaction was somewhat the same too, your brows reaching for your hairline.

George furrowed his brows "What? D- Oh my God! Oh, ew, really. you are disgusting. Seriously. Both of you should be ashamed of yourself. You're children, bloody hell."

"Oh come on, that was such a weird thing to say," protested Kimi. "And you're the only person in this room who thought it was okay to say that. Our reaction was extremely normal."

"Get your minds out the gutter. God, your expressions look exactly the same. You can quit grinning like that, soul sisters."

You and Kimi both whipped your heads around to look at each other at the same time, and sure enough, your faces mirrored each other's. Your expressions changed to embarrassment at your synchronised motion. You looked away first, fixing your eyes to the edge of the coffee table.

You went to pick up your bag, which was practically splitting at the seams with the sheer volume of stuff in it, but the moment you lifted it off the ground, gravity apparently decided you to be its moral enemy, and your bag fell down, everything you had put it in- with careful spatial planning to defy physics and fit in the bag - spilling out on the marble floor.

"Shit," you said under your breath, wincing. You crouched down to pick up your things and Kimi and George joined you too.

"Don't worry about it," said George. "This one once spilled a two-liter bottle of protein shake on the carpet at the hotel in Australia"

"Hey!" protested Kimi. "I will not stand for this slander."

You laugh. "Thank you for that. I'm a nervous mess today," you said apologetically.

"George is a nervous mess everyday," said Kimi.

"I'm gonna be the bigger man here and call it eve- hey, what's this?," asked George, picking up your folder of content scripts and ideas. You had two, one with 'AK Antonelli' written on the front, and the other labelled 'George Russell'. Before you could say anything, George opened the folder and began flipping through it, laughing a couple of times at something he saw.

"This is hilarious," he said looking up from the folder at you. "What's a tung tung tung sahur? And is there any plan of actually shooting these?"

"Oh, uh, no. Interns are unfortunately not quite high up to be working with you guys."

"That's stupid. This is better than some of the stuff we've had done by salaried individuals," said Kimi in a matter-of-fact way.

"I'm flattered that you think that," you smiled. "I've got to go though, so, uh, yeah. Bye."

"Bye," said Kimi. "Thanks for the coffee."

As you shut the door behind you, little did you know Kimi Antonelli was furiously texting his PR manager, bombarding her phone with messages, out of which some definitely contained the phrases "George IS tung tung tung sahur" and "one of the greatest marketing minds of our time, im being fr"

🏎️💨

adidasmotorsport, mercedesamgf1

♡ liked by: kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63, youruser78, and 831k others.

some BTS shots of our week at Adidas Connect so far and, as requested, another ad by our intern.

tagged: kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63, sara.01, youruser78, ayeshascamcorder, mercedesamgf1

user10: intern has been there for <48 hrs and theyve had to make two professional quality ads lmao poor girl youruser78: haha dont worry i wasnt forced i had tons of fun making this user4: thank you mother for keeping us FED with these posts

user6: brb getting a giant poster of this ad printed out at CVS

kimi.antonelli: WOW thank you this makes me look cooler than i am youruser78: anytime champ !! yourbff2: help this is sending me

youruser78: 🖤💙💚 kimi.antonelli: you have to teach me how to make that i literally saw you working on these ads on canva free user13: canva free????? TALENT. youruser78: you're giving me too much credit- a picture that epic is hard to mess up

youruser78

♡ liked by:yourbff1, sara.01, yourbff2, and 831k others.

icecream with the hottest interns in all of catalonia + some stuff that didn't make the official account (technically, they didn't ask me to make these many, but i was having too much fun)

tagged: sara.01, ayeshascamcorder

sara.01: STOP ur the sweetest sara.01: also someone tag antonelli he needs to see this youruser: oh god please no user2: @.kimi.antonelli user8 @.kimi.antonelli user11: @.kimi.antonelli user1: @.kimi.antonelli user3: @.kimi.antonelli user4: @.kimi.antonelli user9: @.kimi.antonelli user5: @.kimi.antonelli

kimi.antonelli: wow this is so cool i'm gonna show toto youruser78: thanks😭😭

! kimi.antonelli has started following you!

! georgerussell63 and 2.3k other people have started following you !

🏎️💨

The second day of your internship. You were walking through the garage, looking for the engineers' breakroom, headphones in, when you felt a hand wrap around your forearm. You whipped around, hand instinctively raised to strike, when you saw who it was and lowered your fist.

"Whoa. Sorry," grinned Kimi. "I was calling your name but you didn't hear me because of your music."

"Oh, sorry," you smiled apologetically. "Hi."

"No worries. I just wanted to say, I spoke to my PR manager, Susanna, about some of the stuff from your folder and she said you can film some of the content for the Adidas Motorsport page, and if it does well, the team will give you a proper budget and equipment to do content f the main page," said Kimi excitedly, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Your jaw dropped. No. Way. This was a literal dream come true. Those folders were just far-fetched fantasies, ideas you'd jot down sometimes. Getting an opportunity to realize them? Absolutely unreal.

"Well?" asked Kimi, snapping you out of it.

"I- oh my God. Thank you so, so, so much- this is actually unbelievable, holy shit," you said, stumbling over your words and unable to articulate your gratitude. "So...would you want to start filming today?"

🏎️💨

adidasmotorsport

♡ liked by:yourbff1, sara.01, yourbff2, and 1.2m others.

join kimi and george for a couple rounds of dti as they both fail miserably at a children's game

tagged: kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63

kimi.antonelli: NOT FAIR you didn't let me use my gamepasses @.youruser78 user7: YOU OWN GAMESPASSES? 😭 user8: FORGET the gamepasses he tagged a GIRL user10: "gee I wonder where f1 drivers spend their money" youruser78: how many times do i have to tell u you must EVEN THE PLAYING FIELD kimi.antonelli: PLEASE let me use gamepasses ill destroy those 6 year olds i swear i swear ill give u vip too youruser78: soz only accepting bribes in the form of thousands of robux xx

user104: WHO is doing the marketing user8: no idea but i love them user4: i have a HUNCH that it might just be a certain chiconomist

maxverstappen1: oh P plays that I think kimi.antonelli: maybe we could play together sometime? maxverstappen1: of course! georgerussell63: sounds like fun! looking forward to it maxverstappen1: i only said yes to kimi. user5: sexual tension is crazyyyy

103k more comments

youruser78

♡ liked by:yourbff1, sara.01, yourbff2, and 300k others.

an f1 driver just gifted me 9000 robux???

kimi.antonelli: no tag no credits i see how it is you gold digger youruser78: sry i thought susanna would kill me 😭 kimi.antonelli: oh valid she might kill me now

yourbff1: and you were gonna tell us WHEN? yourbff3: ba went to spain and forgot all about us youruser78: sybau i literally spammed the group chat not my fault u dont listen to my voice notes yourbff2: your voice notes were all over 9 minutes long youruser78: whatever... #toxic #cuttingthesebitchesoff #smh kimi.antonelli: #brocedesflashbacks youruser78: #KIMIWHAT

user4: my baby finally made it liked by author

georgerussell63: is that enough to buy korblox youruser78: no 😭 what

20.4k more comments

adidasmotorsport

♡ liked by:youruser78, sara.01, lando, and 1.3m others

we made them make memes of each other to convince you guys they're funny. watch the whole thing on youtube.

tagged: kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63

user9: whoever is doing these captions ily pls dont go bald

olliebearman: kiwi antonelli user89:kiwi antonelli user8:kiwi antonelli user54:kiwi antonelli user9:kiwi antonelli user0:kiwi antonelli user4:kiwi antonelli kimi.antonelli: ts pmo

fernandalo_official: you can feel the pain in his mercedih 💔🥀 user007: WHAT kimi.antonelli: WHAT youruser78: WHAT (ily)

59k more comments

🏎️💨

The first two posts got an overwhelming response. Views in the millions and almost as many likes. Not only did you get permission from the Mercedes PR team to shoot other content - for the official team page this time- but you also grew more comfortable with Kimi and George. You discovered that you and Kimi also shared the same sense of humor - brainrot and middle-school-level dirty jokes ("that's what she said").

You and the drivers finally began shooting some content with proper budgets, editors, and filming equipment. You had to physically hold back from pinching yourself from time to time - you really couldn't believe what was happening.

One night, barely 20 minutes from your posting deadline, you were in a frenzy, and you still needed Kimi to approve the pictures. So, you procured his phone number and texted him in a (professional) panic. After that, the texting got more frequent and less work-related - memes, voice notes to run ideas by each other, one extremely zoomed in picture of George (sent by Kimi).

youruser78

♡ liked by:kimi.antonelli, sara.01, lando.jpg, and 67k others

bro played roblox with me like 3 hours before he had to get up and do a media day 🙏

kimi.antonelli: like you didn't have to be there too taking bts pictures smh youruser78: what????? are you talking about

user4: kimi liked before me count your days ratty italian kimi.antonelli: im scared

user6: LANDO.JPG IN THE LIKES??????? MY GIRL MADE IT FR youruser78: HUH

13.8k more comments

mercedesamgf1

♡ liked by:youruser78, ayeshascamcorder, oscarpiastri, and 1.8m others

Hear Me Out cake with George and Kimi! Watch the full video on youtube to see who they picked.

tagged: kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63

user105: "oh like your crushes ? well then i know who kimi wants to put on there" GEORGE 😭 user888: THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND

georgerussell63: big thanks to the interns who came and fixed the mess of a cake we'd made sara.01: no problem :)

user349: i love you, person who handed kimi a picture of pasta when he didn't know what to put on the cake, whoever you are user44444: lmao i think that was y/n

user672: i <3 george because who else would give us GOLD like "you might not see it but i do. mark my words, young padawan, you'll fall in love"

user45: desperately hoping that kimi meant it when he said he didn't have an interest in anyone rn because who will i marry if he does???

user5600: getting sick of the y/n chick tbh she seems like a pick me

89k more comments

mercedesamgf1

♡ liked by:youruser78, ayeshascamcorder, dinobeganovic_, and 891k others

Remembering Italy with Kimi- his thoughts on various...fresh takes on Italian food

tagged: kimi.antonelli

user5: screw you i love pumpkin spice tiramisu kimi.antonelli: HEAVY on the judgement

user668: "sacrilegious" poor boy let him be 😭🙏

user009: actually what is merc admin on these days

youruser78: ok what about risotto with nacho cheese kimi.antonelli: getting you fired. youruser78: sorry bella ciao or wtv idk kimi.antonelli: i'm not mussolini??

97k more comments

youruser78

♡ liked by: kimi.antonelli, sara.01, ayeshascamcorder, and 69k others

ugh this internship is soooo iced coffee at night running through hotel hallways backstage pass bad bunny album caffeine jelly energy bar breakfast coded

tagged: kimi.antonelli, ayeshascamcorder, sara.01, georgerussell63

user45: just came to that 4th slide

yourbff3: HOT

kimi.antonelli: why would you post that picture of me youruser78: :)

georgerussell63: what does that caption mean? youruser78: its about the vibessssss

32k more comments

🏎️💨

More videos, more photo dumps, more texting Kimi. In just a little over a week, you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. But when you walked into the office on Wednesday, the atmosphere had shifted. Preparation for race weekend was in full swing, and everyone was frenzied and frantic. The drivers had next to no breaks, and the focus was entirely on performing in the race. The social media team was hard at work too, trying to create hype around the race and get their audience riled up leading up to the race.

Even in all this mess, you were still texting Kimi. Not long conversations or anything, just random stuff. Once, Kimi sent you a picture of his lunch and a puking emoji. You replied with a picture of the various empty to-go cups of iced coffee on your desk. You'd send him memes you came across, he'd send texts like "bottas just asked me what a gyatt is". After a busy day, you'd find yourself itching to pick up your phone and send him something, anything, and see how he'd reply.

Thursday and Friday were a whirl of sleep-deprivation and panic, and then finally, race weekend arrived. Once again, the atmosphere had shifted, but this time it was quieter. Like everybody was holding their breath. Everything was just as hurried and panicked, but there was also an air of anticipation, the thrill of the race mixed with nervousness. You got to see Kimi in person again, after what was three days but somehow felt like an eternity, to record his pre-quali preparation.

As he showed you his morning routine at a truly obscene hour (six a.m.), he was also answering some questions about the race. He sat down on the gymnasium floor and began stretching his neck, his trainer standing behind him and helping.

"So, Kimi, FP2 went pretty well for you and George, but FP1 not so much. What brought about that change?"

Kimi got up from the floor and headed over to the pull up bar as you and the camera team - Ayesha and one of the professional cameramen, Marcus- followed him. "FP1 was a bit rocky, but I think after that race we realized what our problem areas were and got to really work on improving them." He took a break to exhale and wring out his hands after his pull-ups. "Other than that, there was also a lot of tension, for me, at least, and nerves, so FP1 allowed me to get that out of my system and then we worked hard and got results in FP2." After some more stretching with his trainer, Kimi turned to the camera. "Now, time to show you the next part of my routine."

He led the crew out to the swimming pool. It was on an elevated part of the hill the hotel was on, and down below you could see the entire city as it began to wake up. The sun had not quite risen over the horizon, a light glow cast over the crest of a hill in the distance forewarning its arrival. "This is our morning ritual. Swimming, just to wake me up and get me going. George joins me too sometimes, but today it's just me."

And then, like a movie sequence, Kimi took his shirt off. At that very moment, ridiculously dramatic, the first rays of the sun came out of the hill's shadow and hit his defined abs just so. Backlit, built and with a glow that was half sweat and half chick-flick lighting, Kimi turned to the camera.

"Waterproof gym shorts," he shrugged. "From Adidas, by the way."

You blinked. It wasn't like you had been blissfully unaware of how attractive Kimi was. You'd seen him in post-race interviews, out of breath and trying to explain maneuvers, in videos on the Mercedes F1 account from before your internship, in F2 races as well. Even after you became friends, you'd notice his bicep flexing sometimes when he cracked his knuckles, or his cheekbones, in a kind of damn-my-friend-could-be-a-Kardashian type way. But this...this was all of it at once, and then some. You felt like you'd been hit by a truck.

Kimi went into the pool and it took your cue beeping in your headset to get you to snap out of your trance. "What are you looking forward to the most this weekend?", you asked.

Kimi brushed his wet curls out of his face and thought for a moment. "Qualifying, definitely. It's so interesting how your qualifying performance can mean nothing, or it could mean everything. It gives you a good idea of the race, but you're still gonna be surprised on Sunday. Oh, and, of course, filming more content with our amazing social media team." He smiled past the camera and at you with a glint of mischief in his eye.

"And cut," said Marcus. "Kimi, swim and go dry off, we'll be back here in twenty."

You and Ayesha walked off to get some water, and Ayesha nudged you.

"So, someone was drooling out there if I'm not mistaken."

"Hm? Oh, uh, no? Not...really," you stumbled over your words, not able to sound convincing in your denial even to yourself. You groaned. "Ugh. I don't know. I mean, yeah, he's hot, objectively, I noticed before- I'm not blind- but that was...whew. Like, Nic Cage level shot there."

"Agreed," said Ayesha, nodding. " That shot is gonna do numbers within the editing community. But, your reaction extended a bit beyond that, didn't it? And you have been quite the fangirl of his for a while."

"Fine, so I think someone is attractive," you said. "Big whoop. Doesn't change who he is. It was just...a moment of appreciation."

"Who are we appreciating?", came a familiar voice from behind you.

"Oh-Kimi, hi," said Ayesha.

I'm jumping off the fucking roof. "Hey, Kimi. No one. Weren't you supposed to swim for another twenty minutes?"

"I already did all that before shooting started. I didn't want to slow down shooting, or my routine," he said, casually, as though that didn't mean he woke up at four in the morning. "Back to more pressing topics, who are we appreciating?"

You wanted to jump in the ice cold pool yourself now. Luckily, Ayesha saved you.

"Just my sister. I was telling her about how she got a PhD at twenty-one."

"Oh, wow, that's so cool. You're Ayesha, right?"

"Yeah. I'm on photography."

"Ah, right," said Kimi. "You were the one who took those brand shots of me last weekend. They were great."

"Thanks," said Ayesha. "I know."

Kimi laughed and clapped a damp hand on your shoulder. "Right, let me go put my shoes on and we can get back to work, ok?"

"Sounds great, my dude," you said as he left, a bit too bright.

You turned around to Ayesha, who had literal tears in her eyes from trying not to laugh.

"Shut up."

"My dude? My dude?"

🏎️💨

youruser78

♡ liked by:youruser78, ayeshascamcorder, dinobeganovic_, and 891k others

and so the race weekend begins - 2nd pic is my #OOTD

tagged: kimi.antonelli

kimi.antonelli: ootd???? youruser78: that's right kimi.antonelli: more power to you

yourbff1: ok so pic of u in that underwear when

adidasmotorsport: kimimimimi is eepy kimi.antonelli: ENOUGH youruser78: mimimimi bmabrdino bcuhsdj kimi.antonelli: r u having a stroke

mercedesamgf1

♡ liked by:youruser78, ayeshascamcorder, dinobeganovic_, and 891k others

Kimi's morning routine + his thoughts for the weekend!

tagged: kimi.antonelli

user098: the last picture.

user234: THANK YOU ADMIN

kimi.antonelli: had tons of fun shooting this! felt like a vlogger haha user88: kimi influencer arc?

89k more comments

🏎️💨

You, Sara and Ayesha sat in La Maceta again, at the table by the window. It was practically a ritual to share pastry and coffee while you unloaded your grievances and laughed so loud that the waiter had started wearing headphones. Today's topic of discussion was your reaction to seeing Kimi shirtless.

"-you should've seen her, she practically fainted on the spot when she heard his voice. I told him we were talking about my sister and he was pretty nice about, I approve if they do start dating," concluded Ayesha. She had narrated the entire incident from earlier to Sara, and they both kept shrieking with laughter. You couldn't help but laugh along with them.

"Well, can you blame me if my thoughts went...astray for a bit?", you asked, half defensive and half laughing. "I mean, he's very boyfriend material. Caring, sweet, funny, talented, good listener-"

"Ripped," supplied Sara.

"Hot," added Ayesha.

"Jeez, try not to objectify him, maybe," you laughed. "But yeah, I guess. It's not like a full-blown crush type thing though, I just think he's boyfriend-able, is all."

"Sure," said Sara. "And I'm seven feet tall."

"Oh shut up, I'm seri-" you were interrupted by a notification on your phone.

Mina(4): All hands on deck. 2h to quali.

You groaned. "Looks like we have to go. I now have two hours of dealing with feral reporters and getting them coffee ahead of me. Yay."

🏎️💨

Three and a half hours later, you sat in the Mercedes hospitality, watching the drivers on the TV as they spoke to the media. Well, at least George did. Kimi was nowhere in sight It was your first time watching an F1 qualifying, and that, too, from the Mercedes hospitality. Both drivers had done well in qualifying- P4 for George and P6 for Kimi.

You saw Kimi walk in and immediately go over to his family, hugging them and speaking to them in Italian. You had your laptop open in front of you, and you had already posted the qualifying results from the office upstairs and were working on a brief quali recap to post later on. You waved to Kimi and he waved back and you got back to work, sipping your coffee, but you were cut off by someone lowering your laptop's screen. Kimi.

"Hi," you greeted him, confused but still smiling from ear to ear after the race. "Congratulations. What happened to the press interviews?"

"Oh, I'm going. I wanted a break. And some coffee," he said, plucking your coffee out of your hand and draining it. He sighed dramatically. "That's the stuff."

"Hey! I got that from La Maceta earlier," you protested. "Get your own coffee, quit stealing from interns."

"Ah, but the coffee from the machine tastes so bad," he pouted. "And no sugar could match the sweetness of your annoyance."

You were left speechless after his last comment and the heartbreaking smile he paired it with, but regained the ability to speak just in time to say "There's no sugar in the coffee. It's a cortado."

"Cortado? I tasted strawberry too, though?" He inspected the cup and saw a smudged pink stain on the rim and laughed. "Must have been your lipgloss, then. Tastes good."

Now that rendered you entirely unable to speak. Or breathe. What the hell?

"Well, then. I'll be heading back out to the media," he smiled.

"Yeah."

You turned around, still in shock, to see Sara, her jaw practically on the floor.

"Don't say anything, Sara, or you're dead. I swear to God."

🏎️💨

At around eight p.m., work was finally over and you were packing up your things, when Kimi came up to you, phone in hand, recording on

"So, as previously requested, by quite a few of you, we will be interviewing everyone's favorite underpaid intern...Y/n!"

"I-Kimi- what?" you were flabbergasted, rushing to smooth down you hair and adjust your wrinkled shirt. "Could've warned me, I look like crap. And I have a dinner party, it's Martina's birthday and she's celebrating at her cafe. I have to get ready. Also the thought of millions of people seeing my inability to articulate myself is horrifying."

"You have to get ready? Perfect. It can be a get ready with me!" Kimi sounded so excited, and he was doing that thing with his eyes where he looked like a little puppy that made your stomach go weird.

"You have a race tomorrow, you shouldn't" you said, although there was no conviction in your voice.

Kimi grinned "All the more reason for us to start already."

🏎️💨

You were now in the bathroom of your room and your makeup and skincare was scattered all across the counter. You walked Kimi and the viewers through your routine, while answering Kimi's questions.

"So, first question, is Mercedes really your favorite team or are you jus trying to get that bag?"

You raised a brow at the phrasing.

"Hey, I'm just reading what...lestappensflowergirl84 on instagram asked."

"To answer that question, Mercedes really is my favorite team, I've been a fan for quite a bit, to the point where four of my friends got me Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 themed thongs for my birthday," you winced. "We might have to cut that part out, actually. Sorry, Susanna."

Kimi snickered and carried on with his interrogation as you moisturised. "Next, over 100 people wanted to know-who is your favorite driver? Easy, me."

You scoffed. "As if."

Kimi gasped in exaggerated offense. "Traitor. Who is it?"

"Fernando. Duh."

"Oh, fair, 100%. If Fernando has no fans, I'm dead. I must be your second favorite ,though, right?"

"Nope," you said, popping the 'p' and smirking. "Gotta be...Ollie Bearman."

Kimi's jaw dropped, and he snatched the bottle out of your hands. "Mate. Seriously? You do not deserve-" he paused, squinting at the writing on the moisturiser -" dewy, hydrated skin with the benefits of hyaluronic acid."

You tried to snatch it back, but shockingly enough, the professional F1 driver had better reflexes than you.

"No, seriously, though. Ollie? You don't even know him! He would not let you win at DTI. He doesn't even like DTI. His rank is new model."

"This coming from the Rising Star?" , you asked, eyes narrowed. "And you did NOT let me win. Your outfit making skills are just bad, admit it."

"Whatever. Moving on, if you could shift around the F1 grid however you wished, what would you do?"

You thought about that one for a bit as you swiped the lipgloss applicator across your lips, correcting the edges with your finger. You looked at Kimi in the mirror, and he seemed to be in some in some kind of trance, looking at...your lips? "Right, uh, if I were to do the whole grid it would take ages for me to explain, so I'll just touch on the main changes. Uh, Carlos back in Ferrari, Lewis and Susie Wolff become co-presidents of the FIA, Daniel Ricciardo comes back, somehow, I'm not quite sure of the logistics of that, but I 100% need to see him back on the track, and either Dino Beganovic, Doriane Pin, or Sebastian Montoya join a team. Or all three, if we take Cadillac for next year into consideration. And DRS stays."

"Hey, you're a fan of my friends? They are going to be overjoyed, they know all about you."

You blinked, losing your bearings for a moment. He told his friends about me?????????

"Uh, they know me?"

"Oh, um, yes. I spoke about you in the group chat. Once."

🏎️💨

mercedesamgf1

♡ liked by:youruser78, ayeshascamcorder, dinobeganovic_, and 901k others

Get ready with our favourite (and only) social media intern as she does a much-awaited interview

tagged: youruser78, kimi.antonelli

user8: SHES SO FINE JSDHAKFHJAK

user309: no offense but like the official account posting clout chasers is so beneath them

george.russell: is that my hair mousse??? youruser78: carmen said i could borrow it

dinobeganovic_: so are we on for go karting sometime or what? youruser78: im actually hyperventilating yes omg

🏎️💨

You saw Kimi the next morning , before the race. You spoke between pictures for the team account's stories.

"So, I'll be leaving tomorrow."

"What?" Kimi frowned in the midde of picture and George got up from hisposition on a armchair.

"Yeah, What?"

My internship ends tomorrow. I was only going to be here for the Spanish GP. Although, I have made some good connections, so fingers crossed you'll see me around the team hospitality again someday"

George smiled, the crease between his rows not fully gone yet. "Well, stay in touch, please. You have my number. And if you're ever within a hundred kilometre radius of me, please let me know. I'm serious"

You smiled. "Thanks, George."

Kimi was still looking like a cat in a swimming pool. "I'll miss you. Although it will be nice to have Ollie's ego down to regular size again. I cannot stand seeing you two fist bump each other."

"We've literally only done it once, and it was this morning."

"Yes well, I don't like it at all"

"I'll miss you too."

"Keep texting me. And playing roblox. Dino and Sebastian could join too."

"Well, who am I to say no to roblox with Dino and Sebastian. God, what even is my life,"

Right, boys, you're all set, then. Off to work for you two. See you at podium celebrations hopefully."

🏎️💨

You did not, in fact, see Kimi and George at podium celebrations. The race did not go well. Like, at all. Kimi DNF'd and got P18. George got P4, so that was something, and you managed to get in some congratulatory words as he was leaving hospitality with Carmen, but it seemed even he saw the worry you had for Kimi in your face and put a hand on your shoulder He'll be alright. He's with his dad right now, I think. It's your last night here, go have a night on the town with your friends. Me and Carmen are heading out in a bit from the hotel, we could give you a ride."

You were worried about Kimi, of course, but you still wanted to make your last night of this experience memorable, so you called up your friends and accepted George's offer to be dropped off outside a small place in Poble Sec that was having a live music night.

"All right, then, be responsible. You're all...kids, so. Make good choices," said George, more awkward than he had ever been in front of hundreds of cameras or thousands of screaming fans.

"George," said Carmen, reprimanding him, "come on, they're old enough to know what to do. Have fun, girls."

You, Sara, and Ayesha thanked the pair and stepped out of the car. You spent the night listening to amazing music and eating out-of-this-world seafood skewers, but in the back of your mind, worry for Kimi still lingered.

"Sweetie," said Ayesha, a knowing look in her eye. "don't worry too much. He'll be fine. He's still a great driver with an amazing team. Bad races happen."

"Yeah, I guess," you said, idly stirring the iced tea in your hand with a paper umbrella. "I'm so worrie-" You sighed. Why lie to myself now? "I really care about him, Ayesha."

"I know," said Ayesha, waiting for you to carry on.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

"I really like him. Like, a lot."

✧ taglist (lmk if u wanna be added !): @barcapix, @81astriss, @piastridefender

[hillbillyoracle]

Hey friend - saw your questions in the tags - let's chat!

I'll start with this - your doctor is wrong. Your immune system isn't going to shit and masking isn't causing your problem.

Think about it. If you'd encountered that virus somewhere else - a grocery store, at work, on a bus - if you weren't masking, you likely would have caught it then and gotten sick. That would be considered normal.

Passively encountering viruses in your daily settings does not make your immune system better inherently. Sometimes you're exposed to just enough that your body develops antibodies but doesn't get infected. SOMETIMES. But it's just as likely if not more that you're exposed to enough to make you sick.

All viral illnesses carry with them the possibility of long term damage. Even in healthy adults. All of them.

The only way to ensure you're being exposed to an amount that is likely to cause immunity but not illness is vaccination.

Unmasking in public is not making your immune system "stronger", it's playing roulette. Maybe it works out for you and you get some antibodies. Or maybe it doesn't and you end up bed bound by long COVID or, you know, dead. That's the choice you're making ultimately.

It's heartbreaking reading the accounts of previously healthy people who were told by their doctors not to mask and then wound up bedbound with long COVID (1 in 10 infections, then risk goes up). Their lives were forever ruined by doctors being devastatingly wrong about masking.

So why is your doctor wrong? I don't know your doctor personally but there are three main reasons I've found when I've asked health care professionals who seem to hold anti-masking views.

The first is that they latched on to some very poorly done research that suggested some measures of immune function went down the longer people masked. That research was done on incredibly small numbers of people - we're talking like 40 health care workers in patient care, not even close to being generally applicable - was poorly controlled (compared with 40 people not in patient care), used self report measures, and crucially did not include whether people got sick more as an outcome measure. A lot of this research has not be replicable - the key way we confirm scientific findings - and has been contradicted by larger scale studies were illness was included as a metric but that research hasn't gotten the same air time as the earlier more poorly done research. And doctors don't go out of their way to check what fits their bias.

The second is that we're currently at the beginning of a paradigm shift in medicine that will likely take decades to unfold. A lot of "prevailing wisdom" about viruses and how our immune systems work is changing. We've been told for years that viral exposure makes us stronger - but we're actually starting to find that viral illnesses leave damage even in healthy people that can cause problems later; even making some cancers more likely. The "hygiene hypothesis" - a leading theory as to why some people develop allergies and others don't - is having to grapple with some research that during lockdown, children who caught fewer illnesses were the ones who were less likely to develop allergies. Basically - this is a shift on par with using soap in medical facilities. It's going to take a while for doctors to catch up. Search "Ignaz Semmelweis" to see how doctors responded to that research - it's a rough road. The third is largely what so many other people seem to be falling victim to - this idea that we "have to get back to normal". As if there is a normal that can be returned to after a worldwide pandemic. Tons of doctors have this bias, just like any other people. Plenty of doctors are still eugenicists at heart - they don't care if sick people die so they can be slightly less inconvenienced. The confuse their lack of ability to imagine a world where we mask in high risk settings, where we have better air purification at home and in public, where we develop better vaccinations for a "fact".

TL;DR - all quality evidence currently points towards masking not "lowering" your immune system.

As far as where to get elastomeric masks in Europe - the best place to check is r/Masks4All on reddit. They have several lists compiled by region and tons of people who are happy to go digging to find you what you need. Lots of Europeans on there.

I'd be curious to know why you can't mask with your parents.

I lived with my parents until recently. My partner and I had a small section of the house to ourselves - basically a big room. We kept air purifiers going all the time and masked when we left our area. We would take food back to our section of the house to eat. We still hung out at parties and enjoyed other folks. We saved up for a PlusLife and used that with friends a few times and unmasked with them.

These measures weren't perfect but as we say in my house - stack our buffs. In 5 years, I've never tested positive for COVID. My partner did once and it was after a lapse in masking. Following that one infection - her mental health conditions, allergies, and hearing all got worse despite her doctor saying she'd "fully recovered".

Too often people say "can't" to protect their egos from the reality that they simply don't feel like it. It's important to be honest about whether it's "can't" or don't want to - a lot of issues people have are solveable. Not all, but I'd say most.

Anywho - I wish you the best. I appreciate that you're even open to masking more. r/ZeroCOVIDcommunity and the People's CDC have a lot of good resources too. All the best!

For those who still don't mask:

You know how the trans community asked cis folks to put their pronouns in the email signatures and the like so they didn't out themselves by making theirs public?

Consider this.

In a country that is being fueled by fascism - which is big on eugenics - if the only people masking are people with chronic illness and immune deficiency, then by not masking you're leaving us high and dry not just to the virus, not just to social isolation, but to fascists who consider us a threat to country.

So even if you really don't think COVID is a big deal - fucking mask.

[una-vaquera]

Baby, What You're Doing to Me

Reader's always the one who's flustered or sore after sex, but what about the men? (implied fem!reader for gojo) 18+/MDNI

Lovesick!fiancé!Geto has so many people relying on him and just wants to be taken care of. And after spending all afternoon in bed with you, there is no doubt in his mind that he has someone he can rely on too.He stares at you with soft eyes, thanking the universe for bringing you into his life. He reaches out to stroke your face, but your eyes shoot open and he pulls his hand back toward his chest. You blink your eyes slowly toward him, letting your sight adjust to the now setting sun. And once they do, you take in the sight of his messy hair and his swollen lips. "Beautiful," you muttered under your breath. And when you take your hand up to his face and trace along his jawline, he feels like he could die a happy man. "Are you blushing Sugu?"You push a strand of hair behind his ear. "No!"He laughs awkwardly and sits up too quick for both your comfort. But you'll tease him about that later, you've already seen the way his face was glowing pink and the way he adjusts his shorts from under the cover. "It's just hot in here."He fans his face with his free hand. "Where are my manners,do you want me to turn the air on?"He tries to stop you from getting up,, but you're already out of your bed and walking toward the thermostat. His mouth goes dry staring at your bare back, the way you purposely sway your body with each step you take, the way your panties cling to every dip and curve of your hips. When you turn around back and head back to the bed, you know in your mind you've got him. And that moment Geto's thinking the same thing, "You're beautiful." "You think so?" He doesn't respond back to your question, he just pulls you back into bed with him. "I love you so much." You feel him wrap his arms around your waist, and as much as you want to tease him for being too clingy, you let the warmth of his body pull you back into your slumber.

and

Lovesick!boyfriend!Gojo who's even more down bad for you. He doesn't even try to cover his hickeys in public and the whole day he's spent slightly limping around thinking about you. He's infatuated with the idea of having sex with you any position possible. Anywhere, anytime. But today, for once, Gojo finally thinks he's had enough. His biceps are sore from holding you up all night long and his legs feel like they would buckle under his weight. And as soon as he's finished with his job for the day, his body crashes onto the couch, hoping for finally get some rest. He dozes off, but not for long when he feels you kneel on his back, jumping up and down in the process. His head shoots up from the pillow and he contemplates screaming. He grunts from the weight of your body pushing into his ribs. "Please, get off." You giggle, thinking he's joking at first, but he mutters it again, sounding more annoyed this time. You sit on the floor next to where his head lay on the couch. "What's wrong with you?" He turns his eye, now staring eye to eye with you. "Everything hurts." And when you giggle this time, he rolls his eyes. "I'm dying and my own girlfriend thinks it's funny." Now it's you turn to roll your eyes at his nonsense. Satoru starts to think to himself how any normal person could have so much energy, when he feels as horrible as he does."You know, I have something that can make you feel better." He sits up on the couch and his eyes wander to the way you play with the hem of your skirt and the way your eyes travel down his body, undressing him. But Gojo feels his stomach turn sour and his face burns "That's what got me into this mess." You pull yourself from the floor, standing over him. "You don't have to do anything, just lay back. I'll do all the work." He really was going to reject your offer, but the weight on his shoulders suddenly felt lighter and you're already on top of him, peppering his faces with kisses. And even the strongest has his weakness.

or

Stubborn!husband!Sukuna tries his best to keep up his facade. He's grumpy, there's no questioning that, but it's almost like he tries to purposely not show any emotions.Almost like he's scared. For his whole life, he's never felt embarrassed for others and he sure as hell has never felt embarrassed himself, but in the middle of changing the sheets tonight his face turns bright red. You had brushed past him, your scent was like warm vanilla, and he didn't know why, but his body felt on fire.You mumble a short, "sorry" and move on, knowing he wasn't one to worry about such a trivial thing. But when you look up at him, his face is flushed and he's unmoving. "Baby, are you ok?" It wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be quiet, but his lack of movements were starting to scare you. You raise an eyebrow at him, "You ok?" His heart felt his heart beating out of his chest and his face tingling. "I love you."You choke on air and hold your chest to stop yourself from laughing. "You what?" He stares at you not wanting to repeat himself. You reach out for his hand and help him sit at the foot of the bed. He takes a sign of relief. "I would hope you do, you did marry me y'know." And Sukuna stares at you. But it's not his normal nonchalant stare, his eyes are softer and his lips are pulled in a slight grin. Your eyes wander over his body, all of the love bites, and the scratches from your nails. Then to his face, his pink hair and just as pink face. He is handsome, there's no questioning that, but the way he looks up at you, so soft & everything but grumpy, your heart can't help but skip a beat too. You bring your arms up to his shoulder and the look in his eyes are all-telling. Both of you know the sheets will need to be changed again tonight, but you can worry about that later~

operator's voicemail☎️~ Thank you guys so much for all the notes on Part 1! I hope part 2 is just as good. I actually struggle so hard writing for Gojo but I really enjoyed how his turned.~ Banner was made by me! & the title inspired by "Stunner" by Ten!

una-vaquera copyright 2025©

[27spoons]

CRUSH | ACT THREE: SOMEBODY ELSE

pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

summary: A car, a party, a death.

wc: 7000

warnings: (mentioned) minor character death, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, weed usage, driving while intoxicated, semi-public sex, oral sex (r!receiving), vaginal fingering (r!receiving), overstimulation (kind of), aftercare (kind of), unreliable narrator

a/n: i don't think this needs to be said but i do not condone driving under the influence. call an uber, cab, lyft, friend, whatever. just don't drive.

ao3 / masterlist

PREVIOUS - ACT THREE: SAFE FROM HEARTBREAK (IF YOU NEVER FALL IN LOVE)

NEXT - ACT THREE: TIGER TEETH [WIP]

You spend the first half of the week pretending you're too busy to care.

Too busy to think about what she said. Too busy to care about how she said it. Too busy to check your phone every five minutes in case she accidentally sends you a text or two.

(She doesn't.)

It's Saturday afternoon when two of your friends burst through your bedroom door, looking at you like you just shot their dog, then desecrated the corpse.

"Have you been wallowing in your own misery all week? Dude," your friend Theo groans, gesturing wildly to where you sit on the bed, buried underneath a mountain of blankets. "You're seriously gonna let Walking Suspension do this to you? She was…"

"Bad news from the first day. Like a side quest that does nothing but lower your stats and drain your health potions," your other friend Ellie cuts in with a roll of her eyes. "Seriously. You knew how bad she was before you two started talking, and you thought that she would be different just because you're… you?"

You look up at her, jaw falling slack at the sheer nerve. "Ouch?" You slink in further under the bedsheets, putting the phone in front of your face to block your friends' view of you. "If you don't mind, I have doomscrolling to get back to."

If looks could kill, you'd long be dead.

Before you can stop either of them, Ellie rips your blanket off—which sends chip crumbs flying everywhere—and Theo snatches your phone and holds it out of your reach. 

"Hey! What the fuck?" You gawk at them incredulously, like you can't believe the audacity. "Seriously? Theo, give me my phone back. C'mon." You extend your arm, palm face up, like an angry parent demanding their child hand over all electronics. "Just… give me my phone back, and I'll see you guys on Monday for our weekly study sesh, okay?"

"Nope." Theo shakes his head, stepping back. "Get your butt out of bed. It's Saturday, and you're in a nasty hoodie and sweatpants. We're going out tonight."

You groan dramatically, dropping your hand back on the mattress. "Really? Since when do either of you go out on weekends?" You glance over at Ellie. "You're on board with this? You're encouraging him?" When all she does is shrug in response, you groan and roll your head on the pillow. "You're both evil. Evil people." 

Ellie laughs at that, leaning against your doorframe. "No. We just want to make sure Malboro Mondays doesn't take away your… sparkle." 

"Marlboro Mondays?" Theo rolls his eyes, shoving your phone in his back pocket. "Walking Suspension was a better name."

"Not the point." Ellie steps to the foot of your bed. "Jason Russo is throwing a party tonight," she announces. "We're gonna get drunk." She makes grabby motions with her hands. "You can't be a hermit just because some chick with a rap sheet longer than a CVS receipt broke your heart."

"You make her sound like a villain," you mumble, frowning inwardly. "She's not as bad as you two make her seem, you know."

They both groan at your immediate defense of her, mutually rolling their eyes at the pathetic behaviour. "Whether or not she's a villain doesn't matter. What matters is that she is currently acting like a villain in your story," Ellie says resolutely. "Get up, y/n."

Theo steps back to the bed, extending his arm in an effort to help you get up. "C'mon. We've already decided you're coming to the party."

You look at Theo's arm like he's offering a live grenade and not his hand. "Why can't I just lie in bed? You guys are already here; we can… I don't know. Watch a movie or something? Have a friends' night in?" The smile you give them is miserable, and you already know your pleas will fall on deaf ears.

When they stare at you in silence for another thirty seconds, you relent with a loud groan. "Oh my God, fine. I'll go to your—Jason Russo's stupid party. But I'm not drinking. I'm going purely because I'm being forced to. I will not be having any fun."

Ellie grins and claps her hands together happily, making a sound that could only be described as pure glee. "Heck yes. Do you need help getting dressed? Picking clothes? Doing makeup? Accessorising? Ohmigod, we haven't had a girls' night in ages! We can put on Sabrina Carpenter's new album, and—" She takes a big inhale halfway between the words, and Theo rolls his eyes at her giddiness at the prospect. "—and pregame!"

"She just said she isn't drinking," Theo mumbles, clearly bored with the 'girls talk' that's happening.

"At the party!" Ellie immediately snaps. "Doesn't mean we can't drink before! God, Theo. You're so boring sometimes."

Before Theo can shoot off a retort, you're standing up and waving them both away. "Nope. Not happening. No pregaming or any… preparty events. I'll pick out my own clothing and do my own makeup and accessorising. Thank you, both of you, for all your help. Now, I'd like to get dressed without anyone in the room." When neither of them makes a move to leave, you take your phone from Theo's pocket and force both of them out. "Sit downstairs with my parents or something. Maybe come back when the party actually starts. Just let me get changed in peace." Then you slam the door shut in their faces, like a true friend would.

You really, really, don't want to go to this party—especially hosted by a sleezebag like Jason Russo—but you know your friends won't leave without you. As annoying as they are, they mean well.

So, you turn over to your closet and look at all of your 'nice' clothes with thinly veiled disdain, muttering something about how much you hate both of them (you don't), and how you'll never talk to them again after this (you will). 

Despite telling yourself that you wouldn't put any effort into dressing up, it takes a solid fifteen minutes to choose what to wear and another thirty to put your clothes on and get your shit together. You're wearing simple clothes and basic accessories, looking like you don't care about what you're wearing to the average person, but carefully selected attire to anyone who looks a little too close.

Maybe you want someone to look too close.

By the time you make it down the stairs to your waiting friends, they look like they're a second away from banging their heads into the wall. Your dad is talking their ear off about his Tom Clancy books, explaining the lore that he has likely called 'life-changing,' while your mom sits there looking equally as disinterested as your friends.

When everyone sees you, three of four people in the room sigh with relief. 

"Well, always great to see you two!" Ellie laughs awkwardly, standing up from the couch and clutching her cross-body bag like a lifeline. "We need to get going now! Right, Theo?" She shoots Theo a glance that would strike dread into even the strongest man, and he immediately stands up.

"Yes, exactly what she said!" he stammers, almost tripping over his feet in an effort to get to the door. "We need to leave. Excelsior!" And he's out the door before anyone can say otherwise.

"Dork," Ellie snorts. "Needs to learn when to shut up."

Say what people will about Ellie—timid, shy, a lot like you in some regards—but she sure knows how to strike fear into Theo's heart like no other.

You say goodbye to your parents and promise to be back before midnight, but you already know they don't give a fuck about what time you get back as long as you're alive and not committing crimes. 

The cold air hits you like a smack to the face, and you hunch deeper into your coat. Your sneakers crunch over the old snow that's gone gray with exhaust, breath curling in front of your face like smoke from a cigarette Nat would have—

Nope. You're not thinking about Nat or the Marlboro Reds she smokes.

You slide into the backseat after Ellie calls shotgun, slamming the door shut before the cold can creep in. Theo's already in the driver's seat, fiddling with the aux cord like his life depended on it. He's muttering something about needing to "set the vibe," which, judging by the playlist he pulls up, apparently means three-year-old TikTok hits and at least one 'ironic' ska track.

Ellie gives you a tight-lipped smile in the rearview mirror as she buckles up. You return it, not really looking at her. Your eyes flick toward the window instead, watching the snowbanks blur into smudges as the car jerks into motion.

They're in the front seats, talking about something random to fill the void, muddling the soundtrack Theo painstakingly selected for the ride over. You haven't even asked where the party is—although you're more than sure it'll be one of those big houses on the west end of town—but you don't know how much you really care. It's not like it would matter much, anyway.

"Hey," Theo says suddenly, drawing your attention to the rearview mirror where his eyes meet yours. "You think she'll be there tonight?"

Ellie groans and swats at him. "Theo."

"What?" He shrugs. "Just making conversation."

You roll your eyes, but your heart kicks up at the notion regardless. You don't ask who he means—you don't need to. Instead, you lean your head against the glass and pretend not to care. The cold from outside seeps into your temple.

"She probably won't show," Ellie offers gently, always trying to smooth things over. "You know how she is."

You hum noncommittally. You do know how she is. Ellie and Theo don't. They just know the kind of stories that come with five retellings and no survivors. 

Well, at least you think you still know how—who Natalie is.

Cars are lined up down the street by the time you get to the party. Bass pumps in the air, lingering scents of beer and tobacco permeating the walls of the offending house. Teens and people who should definitely not be at a high school party litter the lawn, mingling amongst each other despite the freezing weather.

Theo and Ellie leave you the second you get inside the house, vanishing somewhere in the vast sea of people before you even get a chance to say goodbye. 

There's a small selection of people you actually interact with scattered around the party, but you don't really want to talk to anyone, let alone drunk people you can hardly stand sober. So, you do what you do best in uncomfortable social situations: find the dog and pet it.

A small group of stoners have cornered a dog in one of the bedrooms upstairs, although the dog hardly seems to mind the attention from the group. The dog—which you come to learn is a tan and white pomeranian named Coco—immediately hops off the lap of whoever it's sitting on to sit on yours instead, grinning up at you like a complete dumbass. 

You end up spending at least two hours up there. One of the people in the room before you—Alex, maybe—offers you a joint somewhere in the middle of that time. One joint turns into two, and no drinking turns into one shitty cooler drink after another. You debate leaving on more than a single occasion, but end up sticking around for the dog (you tell yourself, anyway).

You're mid-head scratch when Coco suddenly perks up, ears twitching like she's just heard God himself descend the stairs. Without warning, she jumps off your lap and bolts for the door, nails skittering against the hardwood. 

The group groans.

"Traitor," someone mutters.

You glance at the clock on the nightstand and realise it's later than you thought. The room's gone stale—everyone's either high, half-asleep, or both, and you're starting to sober up just enough to regret the last grape-flavoured cooler.

You stand, stretching limbs that feel two sizes too heavy, and figure you may as well make an appearance downstairs before leaving. Pretend you were social, maybe even find Ellie and convince her and Theo to call it a night. 

The bass reverberates through your jelly-like bones as you walk down the stairs—avoiding a senior and a freshman who are playing tongue hockey against the railing—and try not to knock over the row of red solo cups filled with mystery fluid that are lined up at the bottom. A vast majority of the people who were here when you arrived have since filtered out of the house or gone into side rooms for various activities, and the people who remain on the dance floor look like they've done a few too many illicit substances to be functioning like a normal person. 

Your phone is—unfortunately—dead, making finding out if your friends came or went far more complicated than you'd like it to be. No one you talk to seems to have seen or even know who they are, and you come up on dead end after dead end. 

When you stumble into the living room, that's when you see her.

Nat. Throwing herself into the heat of the crowd, dancing like nothing else exists but the music and her body. She's loud, laughing at the jokes the people around her make—like she's trying to be seen. 

A far cry from how you've seen her act at parties in the past. Typically, she tries to stick to the side—but still within the mess—with her regular group of people. This time, it's people you've never seen her with before, each more rough-looking than the other.

One of them—a tall brunet who looks like he belongs in college—keeps whispering comments in Nat's ears that she laughs at harder than anyone else nearby, and it makes an uncomfortable feeling rake down your spine.

You shouldn't be watching—not for this long, not at all. 

It's like observing a cinematic trainwreck in high definition. 

She's a blur of limbs and denim, hair sticking to her face in sweaty strands, mascara smudged a bit too much for someone who hasn't been crying. She throws her head back when she laughs, too loud and too long to be genuine. Her hands move too fast for you to keep up with them, touching other people, stealing drinks, and flipping off strangers who whistle at her like it's a game.

It's manic. Maybe a little pathetic—although, notably, it's a whole different kind of pathetic than yours—and still, you can't look away.

She sways into the brunet again, too close now. He puts a hand on her waist, and she doesn't flinch. Doesn't acknowledge it, true, but doesn't push it away, either. 

When her eyes find you, all that changes.

Her grin grows sharper as she leans into his touch, hands coming to rest on his jacket lapels and pulling him closer into her orbit. He says something. She laughs—as if it was actually funny—and leans in to whisper something in his ear in return.

Whatever she says, he clearly likes it, if the way his fingers dig into her waist is any indication. 

They banter.

She says something.

He laughs. Touches her.

Nat's smile doesn't meet her eyes.

They touch like they've already decided where they're going to fuck—and it's far from subtle.

It takes everything in you not to throw your half-empty can at their display, just to cause a scene. Just to make them feel a little worse.

It's not your style. You've never been a loud person.

Like the adult you believe yourself to be, you simply decide I'm not doing this tonight, and turn on your heel right before Nat can lean in and press her lips to his. 

You tell yourself you don't want her—not her body, not her chaos, not anything that comes with her—but the thought of her with somebody else makes you sick. 

You can handle her being gone. It's just that you don't want anyone else to have her.

The past… God knows how long… you've spent wallowing in your own despair. She's been moving on. Living her life. Doing lines in bathrooms with strangers, then robbing stores and bringing other people to the same spots she brought you once upon a time. 

Sound fades into the background, the shitty house song that's playing through blown-out speakers reverberates across the floorboards and through your bones, making your footfall unsteady as you move for the front door. 

Faces blur as you push past them, trying to make it outside before you can spew your guts across floors worth enough to bankrupt your parents.

You make it to the porch before the nausea really sets in. The cold air doesn't help—if anything, it makes everything worse. You stumble down the steps, past a couple making out in the snow like it's not sub-zero, and lean against the hood of a car that might not even belong to anyone at the party.

Deep breaths, you mentally tell yourself, hands shaking as they come to rest on your knees in an effort to hold yourself up. 

You're about to pull out your phone—maybe to text Ellie, maybe to call a cab, maybe just to look at something that isn't her—when you hear the door slam shut.

"Nah, fuck that," a voice that you'd recognise anywhere yells from the house.

Nat's storming out, leather jacket slung over one arm, hair wild, eyes locked on you like you've personally ruined her night. 

Maybe you have.

"Seriously?" she calls, like she wasn't about to kiss someone else five minutes ago.

You don't even blink before you're turning away and walking down the street, fingers fumbling with your phone that's… dead. Great fucking timing. 

"Hey!" Nat shouts. "Princess! I'm fucking talking to you!"

"Oh my God!" you yell back, not bothering to turn around and properly acknowledge her. "I don't want to talk to you, Natalie!" You continue to walk off, probably looking like you're throwing a tantrum. So what.. "Why don't you just… go back and talk to whoever the fuck it was you were feeling up in there!? He seemed more than happy to humour you!"

She scoffs incredulously. "Oh my fuckin' God! Seriously?" A disbelieving laugh spills from her. "That's why you're upset? It's not like we're together!"

"Trust me, I'm more than aware! You have made that very clear!"

"Holy shit, would you stop walking for ten fuckin' seconds?" She picks up her pace and grabs your wrist once close enough, yanking you to a halt. "Why are you leavin'? Huh?"

"Because—" You yank your wrist back, spinning around to face her. "I don't want to be here anymore! Why do you care? We've barely talked since we fucked!" You throw your hands up in anger. "You were all up in that fucking douchebag—"

"I don't care about him!" Nat cuts you off. "I don't give a single shit about him! I don't even know what his fuckin' name is!"

"Then why the fuck were you even talking to him if you didn't care about him!?"

"Because I was tryin' to fuckin' forget about you!"

You pause. "What—"

She's kissing you before you can actually finish that thought. You debate not returning the kiss for half a second, then—

You kiss her back.

It's all teeth and tongue and anger—these goddamn stupid feelings that both you and Natalie have been trying oh so hard to repress and ignore.

You don't even register the fact you've been moving until she's pushing you up against the side of her mom's Grand Marquis and sliding her hands under your shirt, cold fingers digging into the skin of your waist. Her nails bite into your skin, and you hiss in surprise at the sharp sensation of pain, which causes Nat to—surprisingly—lessen her grip. In some sort of weird apology, she runs her hands up and down your sides in an attempt to soothe the pain she had caused.

Her mouth finds its way to your neck, trailing wet kisses along the expanse of your throat, humming lowly as she bites down just a little too hard not to leave a mark.

She reeks of shitty beer, stale cigarette smoke, someone else's cologne, and that scent you can't quite name—the one you wish you could have forgotten from the night you two had together.

She doesn't leave any more marks as her mouth moves across your neck, but you'd be lying if you said you were grateful for that. Some fucked up part of you wants to have these marks on your skin. Wants to have some sort of physical reminder of this encounter you have with her, even if it fades—just in case you never get the chance to have it again.

"Fuck." You grab a fistful of her hair as you lean your head back, giving Nat a full access pass to do whatever the hell she wants to your skin. You're so caught up in the feeling of her mouth on your neck that you don't even notice she's undoing your belt, her hand dipping beneath your waistband, and—

"Woah," you chuckle nervously, grabbing her wrist with your free hand. "Nat. Uh. We are…" You glance around. "Still in public…"

That seems to snap her out of the moment, even though you know she wouldn't give a fuck about doing stuff like this in public normally. "Oh." She jerks her hand back and clears her throat, suddenly remembering how the world works. "Right. Uh. This is… not the place for this," she murmurs, rubbing the back of her neck once you release her hair and start buckling your belt back up.

A beat.

"I can drive us somewhere, if you're interested." She shrugs, shoving her hands into the pockets of her ripped jeans. "Not too far from here, but… quieter. Just us."

You hesitate.

You really shouldn't.

But, then again… you've done a lot of things you really shouldn't do with her already—what's one more?

Your head shakes in disbelief at how easy you are for this woman, and you let out a quiet scoff. "Fine, yeah. Let's get outta here."

Nat gestures with her head to the passenger side of the car as she moves into the driver's seat, starting the engine with slight difficulty. Once you're in the car and your seatbelt is on, you can't help but cringe at how heavy the air feels, not even whatever song is on the radio helping to ease the tension.

"You're, uh, not gonna sacrifice me to the… Sex Gods… or anything, right?" A strained laugh leaves you, trying anything to break this heaviness that plagues the air.

And, much to your relief, it does. 

Nat scoffs, shaking her head and getting comfortable in her seat. "Nah, can't do that anymore, babe. You aren't a virgin; we took care of that."

You laugh at the comment despite yourself, shoving gently at her shoulder as the tension slowly dissipates. "Damn, so I ruined your ritual?"

She laughs as she pulls away from the party, the sound light and so fucking nice to hear after so long. "Something like that."

Nat pulls the car to a stop in front of an abandoned Target, and that awkward tension from when you first got in the car returns.

Both of you know why you're here, but neither of you wants to do something about it. Nat seems to be waiting for you to make the first move, looking at you with intent while your gaze remains locked on the footwell.

"Hey, look," Nat murmurs, seemingly reaching across the seats to take your hand before thinking better of it. "We don't… have to do this—"

"I want to," you cut her off. "God, Nat, I want to. I'm just…"

"Nervous?" she finishes for you. "It's just me, yeah? No one to be nervous about. Not like you gotta put on an act or anything."

You finally look at her, and in spite of all the unresolved emotions you definitely need to talk about, she seems… genuine. And… goddammit. You do trust her. Maybe a little too much. "I… I'm not kissing you over the center console. That's weird and uncomfortable."

Natalie laughs at that. "Car doesn't have a center console, it has two armrests that can go up. Whatever." She shoots you a wild grin, and rather than just getting out of the car like a normal person, she hops over the console—ah, armrests, and into the backseat. "C'mon. Backseat works great." She pats the seats on either side of her. "Totally comfortable for stuff like that."

A scoff leaves your lips before you can stop it. "Oh, and I'm sure you would know all about how comfortable it is for things 'like that'."

She rolls with the punch, shrugging it off in favour of keeping the grin on her face. "What can I say? My mom's Mercury has seen some things when my Ranger is MIA." A beat. "Come on."

Well. You're already in the car.

"Fuck you." You clamber into the backseat—awkwardly—and she's already pulling you down the second you're close enough. Your mouths collide. Her hands are in your jacket, yanking it off your shoulders, and you're pushing hers down her arms just as fast. It's frantic, uneven, and nothing's ever felt more necessary than getting her skin on yours.

Her shirt comes off first, and before you let her pull yours off, you have to stop and admire her (mostly) bare torso. "You're so fucking beautiful," you murmur, hands moving to caress her through the fabric of her bra gently. "I just…" A shaky exhale. "Damn."

"Damn?" Nat parrots, although the laugh she adds after that is slightly strained. "That's s'posed to be my line. You're the one that should have more than half a fuckin' brain." She manages to get your shirt off, then allows a cocky grin to slide onto her face. "Damn."

You roll your eyes. "First of all, I'm still kinda drunk and high. Secondly… oh my God. Whatever. Let me compliment your body."

"Yeah, me too," she replies easily, like she didn't just drive. "Anyway, if I wanted people to compliment my body, I could go anywhere, Princess. Could head back into that party. Next time, make it real original, yeah?"

A scoff. "Fine." You appraise her for a moment. "You…" You sigh. "Oh my God. This is so dumb. You have…"

Nat laughs. "Oh, c'mon. Can't be that hard to come up with something original?" She's removing your belt again, clearly eager to get it off after being stopped last time. "I believe in you. You can do it."

"I don't flirt with people! That's, like, your thing!" 

That earns another laugh from her as she pops the top button on her pants once your belt is free. 

"And you don't care, anyway! You're still gonna take your pants off, even if I drop the world's worst compliment!" You laugh along with her, starting to wriggle your pants off.

"Mm, well, maybe the world's worst would stop me, but… yeah. For the most part? 'm just gonna take my pants off."

"Jesus. A real Casanova, you know that?"

"Mhm. You know and love it, Princess. She grins up at you as she slides the zipper down. "Now. We just gonna sit here—half-naked—and stare at each other?"

"I don't know," you hum. "I'm tempted to, now."

"Oh, fuck no." She laughs and flips you so you're no longer on her lap, and instead, with your back flush against the seat. 

Admittedly, you're surprised she's strong enough to move you like that.

"I refuse just to sit here and stare at a pretty girl when I know she wants me as much as I want her."

You flush at that, your own body betraying you. "Oh, so now you have charm…" you mumble petulantly as Nat laughs again, working your pants down your legs. "You're such an ass."

"Yeah," she agrees immediately, tossing your pants over some empty bottles on the floor. "But you knew that before you got into this car with me. No one's fault but your own, babe."

You hate that she's right.

"Oh my God," you grumble for the millionth time tonight, mashing your lips against hers again. Nat's hands immediately find purchase on your hips, kneading the flesh as she breaks the kiss to move her mouth to your neck once more. "I, uh, thought of a compliment."

"Oh, yeah?" She's only half paying attention to you. "'s that?"

"Yeah, I, uh…" You hiss as her teeth scrape along the side of your neck. "Your scars. I like your scars."

That makes her pause. She lifts her head up slightly to meet your gaze. "My scars?"

You nod, running a hand up the side of her torso, stopping when your thumb rests on top of one of the long-faded white lines on her ribcage. They're like… badass."

Nat scoffs and glances away—what you're pretty sure is a defense mechanism at this point. "You think I'm badass 'cus I got some scars?" She glances back at you, now sporting a grin that shows she thinks this whole thing is ridiculous. 

"Well, I mean… yeah. They're, like, proof you aren't afraid to take things head on, you know?" You shrug. "I dunno. It's… you don't just survive shit. You come back with proof you survived it, too."

Silence passes between the two of you for a few uncomfortable seconds, her face falling out of that grin into something… sadder. "Shit, Princess," she says finally, voice lower than before. "You really know how to kill the mood."

"Wait, what?" You frown. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"No, no," Nat cuts you off gently. "'s not that. Now I just gotta deal with the fact you're… sweet, or some shit." She sighs dramatically, leaning down to press a slow, tender kiss to your lips. "You're so goddamn weird."

"Yeah, well." You wrap your arms around her shoulders. "Here you are, anyway."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah." Her smirk returns as her hands slide down your thighs, hooking behind your knees to pull you closer. "But next time? Compliment my ass or something."

"You asked for something original. I gave you something original." You roll your eyes and tangle your hands in her hair. "But you do have a nice ass, for the record."

"Oh, yeah?"

She grins, wide and wicked. 

"I've also got a nice set of—"

You kiss her to shut her up.

She lets you. 

It's cold. Even more so that Nat took the keys out of the ignition in an effort to save gas, much to your internal protests. A discarded beer bottle digs into your lower back, but it's a pain you'll endure for the weight of Nat above you, clad in nothing but a black sports bra and half-undone pair of jeans.

Maybe it's the intoxicants running through your system, but a nervous laugh spills from you when she breaks the kiss to start pressing kisses down—

Wait. When did your shirt come off? 

Did you take it off? 

Did Nat?

You aren't sure how much it matters.

"Y'allright?" Nat murmurs halfway down your torso, not stopping despite the performative concern. "Y're s'fucking tense, babe. Need'ta relax." 

"Hard to relax when a cop could show up at any time, and—" A sharp nip to the skin above your underwear, her fingers hooking in the waistband of them. "—and fucking arrest us…"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Please. They'll only arrest us if they're fuckin' assholes. Lift up your hips." It's almost embarrassing how fast you comply, allowing her to tug your underwear down your thighs and discard them in the same direction as your pants. "Won't even show up on your record, Princess. Misdemeanour at the worst."

"That isn't exactly comforting when I plan on going to college and getting a proper job," you murmur back, but make no effort to push her off of you. 

Nat doesn't respond to that, instead pressing kisses up your leg once she has your underwear off like nothing else matters but the feeling of your skin underneath her lips. Her tongue starts swiping against your skin once she passes your knee, licking a stripe up your thigh before the first puff of breath brushes over your (embarrassingly) wet cunt. 

There's no teasing on her part, not like you were expecting. Just the flat of her tongue swiping through your folds as the pads of her fingers dig into the meat of your thighs eagerly. 

Your breath stutters—just for half a second, but far too loud in the confined space of the car—and she takes it as encouragement. One hand stays firm on your thigh while the other slips between your legs like it's something she's done a hundred times, not just once in the protection of your room.

Her tongue moves with purpose. No hesitation or theatrics, just long, practiced strokes that have you twitching and biting back moans beneath her.

"God," you whisper, hooking a leg over her shoulder while the other hangs loosely off the seat.

You thread your fingers into her hair without thinking, just needing something to hold onto. Nat hums at the contact, causing a vibration to rip through you like a shot of adrenaline. One of her fingers slips into you without any resistance on your part, no accidental scrape of fingernail on your inner walls like you had accidentally done to her. 

No, she works with the kind of focus that makes it hard to breathe, let alone function normally. Her fingers are long and deft, curling up just right, pressing that rough spot inside of you that causes a moan to slip out before you can stop it. Her mouth stays locked around your clit, sucking slow and steady as her fingers move deeper, slipping into a rhythm that makes your stomach coil tight. 

When she starts to scissor them, it burns, but in a way that makes your toes curl and eyes squeeze shut. You tug on her hair as the burn fades into heat—pleasure blooming low in your belly like a match dropped on dry kindling. Nat, on her part, doesn't let up. Not for a single second. Her tongue works in tandem with the roll of her fingers, curling again, again, until your hips start to lift on their own, chasing something you couldn't describe if you even tried.

"Fuck—Nat, I—"

You don't recognise your own voice as moans spill out of you in ragged waves. It's debauched, filled with sounds that would make a nun keel over, but fuck if it isn't the best feeling you've experienced in your whole life.

She groans into you, feeling the way your walls begin to stutter against her fingers and the way your clit seemingly throbs on her tongue. Her fingers scissor again, and this time it doesn't burn. Your back arches, your thighs clamp around her head, and you bite down on one of your hands to muffle the sounds that spill.

And when she groans against your clit? 

That's when you fall apart.

You come with a muffled curse, clenching rhythmically around her fingers and refusing to let them go.

Nat doesn't stop until you've given her everything—and then some.

Not until your legs go limp and your grip loosens in her hair, the hand that was between your teeth falling listlessly to the seat.

It's only then she eases back, mouth and chin glistening, pupils blown wide in the low light. 

"Y'good?" she mumbles, gently removing her fingers from you, careful not to trigger your oversensitivity.

You nod—or, well, you try to—and push some hair from your face.

Much to your surprise, Nat doesn't say anything cocky in response to your condition. Just kisses your inner thigh, then tentatively cleans up the mess between them with a rag that's probably got enough bacteria to give you twenty different infections, but you don't stop her. 

You'd call it tender, but you're sure Nat would kill you and then deny it with every part of her soul.

The backseat is scarily quiet following your climax.

You try to return the favour—hell, you start to—but Nat stops you before you can get too close.

"I want to," you mumble, one hand coming up to rest on her shoulder. "Let me?"

She shakes her head once, pulling back from you and buttoning up her jeans quietly, not meeting your eyes. "Don' worry about it, Princess. Maybe next time, yeah?"

I don't know if there will be a next time.

"...yeah, sure," you mumble, grabbing your shirt from the dirty floor and tugging it over your head. "Next time."

The quiet is oppressive. 

Neither of you speaks as you fix your clothes. By the time you look up, Nat's already in the driver's seat with the keys in the ignition.

You climb into the passenger seat just as the car begins to pull out of the lot, and you feel uncomfortable in a way you can't quite name—maybe it's her treating this like a casual hookup, or how she wouldn't even let you touch her, but you feel gross.

She doesn't say anything about your clear discomfort or how you pointedly face away from her once you move to the front. Nat has one hand on the steering wheel while the other reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a pack of Marlboros, placing one between her teeth. She uses the car's built-in lighter, taking a few puffs and letting the smoke slowly fill the air before cracking the window.

Cold air spills in from outside as she drives, further dampening your already sour mood.

Somewhere between the gas station where she stole you that Buzzball and your house, she tosses the butt of her cigarette out the window.

"This doesn't mean anything," she mumbles, barely audible over the wind spilling in through the cracked window and the static in your brain.

You're quiet for a long moment, watching trees blur past as she rolls on a top sign like it's a suggestion.

"Whatever you say, Nat."

She doesn't say goodbye when she drops you off—doesn't even ask for your address, like she's had it memorised for years. The door closes, and she pulls away, leaving you standing alone at the curb.

You walk up the path quietly, unlocking your front door with the spare key that's hidden under the doormat, and let out a heavy sigh when you get inside. Despite knowing your parents are likely asleep, you still remove your shoes quietly and—

"Holy shit," your dad—more nervous than you've ever heard him—says once you leave the front foyer. "You're alive."

You blink a few times, staring at both of your parents who are seated in the living room, the news flickering on a screen in front of them. They both look like shit. Your mom has heavy bags under her eyes and is wearing her housecoat, while your dad wears a simple tee and pyjama pants, glasses that he normally never wears resting on top of his head.

"We tried calling you. No answer," your mom mumbles, turning her phone screen to face you, the call log filled with call after call that you never answered. 

"My phone died." You grab your phone and show it to them as if to prove your point, wiggling it in the air for a moment. "What's… what's wrong?" A nervous, tense laugh. "I've never seen you guys act… uh… this scared."

They look at you like you just missed the start of the nuclear apocalypse. 

"Ellen said you were going out to a house party tonight on the west side," your dad says, his fingers clenched around the stem of a beer bottle. A deep sigh leaves him, and he glances down at the empty bottle. "There was a stabbing," your dad says flatly, like he's reporting the weather. "Some kid died. House party, west side."

"There… what?"

Was that before or after you left? Had to be after, right? By the time you were already in the car, fingers twitching with the need to touch Nat—

Did it have something to do with her? The stories—drunken fights in parking lots, late-night joyrides, stints in juvie, shattered beer bottles—how true are they? How much did she never tell you? How the hell is this story on the news already?

Your phone's still dead in your pocket. Your thoughts are louder than anything on the news, even as the headline—TEEN STABBED AT HOUSE PARTY—scrolls silently across the television over your dad's shoulder. 

Some questions are asked, but it's hard to remember if answers are given.

They let you free eventually, and you walk upstairs and into the bathroom on autopilot, trying to grapple with… so many different things.

You and Nat, tangled up again. Your parents, suddenly remembering you exist. Some kid—name unknown, face familiar—dead, just like that.

And what were you doing? Spread out in the backseat of a car, letting the same girl who's been dodging your calls bury her face between your thighs.

You don't remember grabbing a towel, turning on the water, or peeling your clothes off piece by piece. It's all muscle memory now—something your body handles so your mind doesn't have to.

The shower runs too cold at first, then too hot. You don't fix it. Steam curls around you like smoke, the spray doing nothing to chase away the bone-deep chill. Water drums against the back of your neck as your gaze falls to the tiles.

A beer bottle digging into your spine. Nat saying "This doesn't mean anything," like she was twisting a knife into an old wound.

Your phone's still dead. Your skin still smells like her.

You scrub harder.

a/n: hbd @scatorccioz and happy early bday @nonyahb u didnt ask for this but ur getting it anyway

[miscellaneousferns]

If you do then I do too. This is...exactly the same flavor of anxiety I have. I've never really told anybody about it because I thought they would think I was weird.

To this day, my brain will give me an unpleasant and unwanted thought (i.e. "Have you ever thought about [friends' parents, my parents, my siblings and their partners, etc] having sex? Let's imagine what that would look like") immediately followed by an intense fear that these thoughts that I don't even want are being projected not just to the people around me but the people involved as well.

When I was in fifth grade, I was convinced that my classmates were somehow able to watch me in the bathroom but for some reason not inside the shower. So every time I took a shower for like...two or three years, I would shimmy in and progressively take my towel off, trying to avoid getting it wet while also minimizing any chance of my invisible classmates seeing my body. I did the reverse coming out of the shower. To this day, even though I no longer have that anxiety, I still only open the shower curtain enough to grab my towel and then I dry off completely before stepping out. I still change clothes as fast as humanly possible and cover myself up as much as I can. I mastered the art of switching shirts in like four seconds (I'm not kidding) by the time I was 12.

I routinely have the feeling that I'm being watched, especially by ancestors/grandparents/older people that are important to me and especially when I'm doing something sexual. (As if somehow they would be scandalized and disappointed in me for having sex as if they didn't also have sex...).

In a similar brand of anxiety, I also used to fear that sharks would attack me in the shower, public pools, lakes, anywhere with water...even though none of those places had sharks. Ever. They wouldn't even survive there even if they could somehow get there and I knew this and I was still afraid. I struggled with doing the backstroke in swim lessons because I feared that a shark was coming up below me and I didn't know. One day I forgot my goggles and I was in a mild state of panic the whole lesson because my only assurance that I was not about to be eaten was being able to look under the water and I couldn't do that without my goggles. It took me years and years to be able to swim in lakes and pools without fear (or at least, minimal enough fear that I can enjoy myself for like 20 minutes). I still, at 25, cannot swim in saltwater without panicking because my mind goes straight back to "I'm in shark territory" even though there are no goddamn sharks in this Washington canal!! The real kicker with this one is that sharks are one of my favorite animals. I LOVE them. I know the statistics, I know how utterly unlikely an attack is, and I hate how people are so afraid of sharks because they're always characterized as these crazed man-eating monsters and yet, despite all logic, the primal part of my brain cannot shut off the fear and the absolute conviction that something bad is about to happen.

I also had "do/don't do [random thing] and something good will happen / something bad won't happen." Example: 9th grade me, on the day of finding out which band I would be moved to the next year: "If I carry my clarinet in my left hand today, I'll get into [the advanced band]." This still happens sometimes as well as a "pick this one" feeling. Like, I can be staring at seven identical glasses and my brain will go "no get that one" with a vague sense that if I picked that one, I would be safe.

When I was a kid (like age 12-15ish) sometimes I’d get super paranoid that someone on the train or in public was reading my mind and at first it made me worry that they’d see what I was thinking and think I was a bad person but after a while I started just responding to the paranoia by thinking at them like “what the fuck bro, this is a huge invasion of privacy, what is wrong with you. mind your damn business” and yes it was weird but you know what?? It worked

[tiramisu-rambles]

wherever, whenever, with you

Summary: Different AU-setting scenarios with the Tokyo Debunker guys! Some are inspired by the missions that happened in the canon story, and some just by their character vibe.

Warnings: Not many direct spoilers, but I am borrowing some of the theming of the missions I've played/seen. Mentions of blood drinking in Edwards but he's a vampire... And mentions of stalking (influencer AU) in Sho's.

Characters: Edward, Leo, Sho, Jin, Taiga, Haku

Edward + Mysterious Butler

"Oh? Is the tea not to your liking, Master?" You mutter something about how it's alright; just your appetite, only for an elegant face to appear in your view. "Why, that won't do." Edward smiles serenely, too close for comfort. Then, leaning in to your ear: "I took quite a lot of blood from you last night. We can't have you fainting now, can we?" Sometimes, you honestly wonder who's in charge here. You, the stranded Young Master of a fallen family, or the conspicuous 'butler' who's offered you his aid. "...I'll finish the drink. Just leave me for a few hours to complete my paperwork." You try to ignore the burning sensation on your cheeks, shying away from Edward's form. Unsurprisingly, he follows. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear with a lingering touch. "As you wish, Young Master. Your word is my command."

Leo + Influencer Relationship

"Come on now, sweetheart. No need to be so shy." You try your best not to squirm as Leo pulls you closer by the waist, posing with a bright smile as the photobooth camera blinds you with a flash. Another picture, and another, before Leo takes a video of the collage editing process and prepares it for a post. 'Cutest photobooth ever! They say that highschool sweethearts who take a pic here are sure to have great luck!' The sickeningly sweet caption is posted with swoosh on his phone, then, the real Leo greets you. A lazy, almost bored expression, as he leads you out of the store. "What is it? Having second thoughts?" You didn't expect him to ask you that; as if he truly cared how you felt. You'd agreed to help him stage a fake relationship on his socials so that his more rabid fans would back off from sending way too much fanmail to his address - or, in the event that they tried to do anything else, get reported. After which you can finally 'break up' and go back to your usual life. But... Even if you're used to Leo's two-faced personality, it's still jarring whenever he suddenly brightens when you're in public, calling you pet names and buying you your favorite snacks and drinks. Always act like someone's watching. You never know how far a stalker would go. "...Don't move." Leo leans in close to you, fingers tilting up your chin. You notice that his head is angled so that no one could see your expressions from the left. "I saw a camera blinking. Don't say anything you wouldn't want to be gossiped about." But in your made-up narrative, this is nothing more than an innocent, doting kiss. Leo leans away with a soft, gentle smile. And you can feel the nerves from both his situation and this starting to build. Will you really be alright by the time this fake romance ends?

Sho + Highschool AU

"Hey, senpai," A familiar voice calls, smiling as you look up from tying your shoes. "Ready to go?" "People are going to think you've got a crush on me if you keep this up." You laugh, ruffling Sho's hair. He protests at the action and grabs your wrist to stop you, before pausing, lingering, and finally letting go. "Well, it doesn't matter what they think, as long as you're okay about walking with me." He shoves his hands into his pockets and matches your steps. It's Sho's first year in highschool, while you're a year above him; you used to be close in middle school due to how Leo would always dump his 'vice president' errands onto Sho. As secretary of the student council back then, you always had the chance to chat with him and eventually learned that you lived in the same neighborhood. Despite his semi-delinquent looks, you know for a fact that Sho's a good guy. He's helped you carry groceries and bags countless of times, and offered to wait for you if you were staying late after school to complete paperwork. All in all, you believe that his popularity now that he's in highschool is well-warranted. The only thing is... You sometimes feel like he's being limited by spending time with you. You don't mind it, of course - but you aren't as active now as you were in middle-school. You spend most of your time studying in the library or helping out at home. "Since when did I become friends with you because of stuff like that?" Sho had replied in the past. "I'm hangin' out with you because I want to, senpai. Don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise." It's a shame... he could really make a significant other happy, with this amount of care and attention. ...Wait... could it be...?

Jin + Beach Outing

"You really ought to be more careful." Jin sighs, shifting your position in his arms - bridal carried - so that the Sun isn't glaring into your face. "Why would you go into the water without proper swimwear?" "I kind of got dragged there against my will..." You weakly defend yourself, knowing full-well that if Jin caught onto the fact that you haven't put proper sunscreen on, you were going to be in for it. "Haru and Towa are really energetic, you know." Jin's expression seems to sour at the sound of their names. "And did any of you think about what you'd do once your clothes got wet?" "Well..." Unexpectedly, you find yourself placed down on one of the beach chairs, and a large sheet of fabric falls over your legs. "Just put that on." Oh. Not a towel. Jin's shirt. Loose enough to wear as a coat around your frame. "Don't just stare with your mouth open. Help me put sunscreen on my back." "Y-Yes! Hold on a moment!"

Taiga + Casino

"Place your bets." You stare at the roulette wheel with your hands clenched. Everything about this place is too foreign; from the lowlights and sparkling furniture, to the expensive clothes on your back. This is why you hate blind dates. Why did you even let that stupid- "Black." A hand reaches over your shoulder, moving your chips. Huh? Before you know it, the wheel is spinning, and lo and behold... You've won. The stranger who's saved your fumble huffs to himself, as if this was no surprise. Then, drags a chair over to slot it next to you, leaning close as if you're attending this casino event together - smelling faintly of smoke and whisky. Wait... is this a stranger? Why does it feel like you've met him before? "Come on, kitten. You told me to stick close to you, remember?" Taiga leans in to whisper in your ear. "Now make a bet. Red, or black?" ...Mission... don't forget... Why do you have a feeling that your bet is going to trigger more than just a roulette loss? (Distinctly, your subconscious is aware: your next words is the trigger between a Taiga who destroys the casino that stole your memories - or a longer night dancing in darkness, with unfamiliar steps and sights.)

Haku + Navigating the City's Cafes

"Open up, ahh..." Haku barely contains his laugh at the embarrassed knit in your brow. When you told him you haven't visited the city in a while and missed the cafes - you didn't mean this! "Just teleport me back to campus." You mutter, starting to push yourself away from the table. "If I'm lucky, no one's seen us, and I can-" You feel your chair getting yoinked back in Haku's direction; pulled by him hooking his foot around one of its legs. The casual and effortless action just flusters you even more, and you lose the ability to speak. What on earth- "Say ah-" Haku continues, as if you hadn't just attempted to escape. His joking tone softens into a more familiar smile, slightly apologetic: "Sorry, sorry. I'll stop teasing you." "You can't help it, huh?" You try not to pout, but it's hard when Haku's constantly making your heart skip and jump. This imbalance in power is way too unfair! As you reach out to take the fork with cake from his hand, Haku smoothly swaps your grips - before pulling your hand, and the cake, to his mouth instead. And in a second - it's gone. You can't decide if this is better or worse than being fed by him, when Haku licks some of the cake crumbs off his lips. "Not too sweet." He comments, holding his chin. "But maybe I'll need a comparison to make sure." ...Why is he staring at your lips?

[misandrymced]

Hey~

Would absolutely love to see a hashira or two get absolutely destroyed by a massive demon reader specifically a higher rank one maybe one that is a human authority figure and not a known to the public demon.

Thank you lovely~!

Okay! I'll tryy, tysm for the submission!! mdni !

cw- sub!giyu, gn!reader, penetration (giyu), spit as lube, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia

He felt you all around him - using his technique - you were close.. he just couldnt tell when you were gonna make the kill.

-

"Looks like a little mouse~" You cant help but grin. This is the hashira everybody depends on? His Job is to hunt demons like you, instead he's in fighting position with his sword already welded, like he's ready for the first attack, But who said you even wanted to pick a fight with Giyu tonight. You decide you should tease him a little before you come out of hiding. You see a twig out of your perphial; you grab it tossing it by Giyu's feet. "Okay I know where you are, come out!" is that..fear I smell? You almost feel bad for him so you decide to cut his tormant short.

All Giyu sees is your silhouette appear against the moon moving in closer - he freezes - coming up your face becomes visible to Giyu. Your features having an alluring visage, hypnotizing Giyu. You walk up to him still gripping his sword, using your index to lower his weapon for him. "Miss me?" With a shit eating grin growing on your face. "Why would you think of such a thing?" Giyu says with a sarcastic tone, he will play dumb like you and him both don't know that if he didn't come here to get fucked you would've been killed him the moment he stepped foot in your radar. You look at him with a raised eyebrow questioning his prior statement, Giyu finally decides to unweld his weapon putting his hands back down on his side looking at you expectantly. But your not giving in too easy he's gonna have to tell you what he wants and Giyu knows that's.

Giyu blows his breath in a puff his hair on his head moving from the air hitting it, he doesn't want to give in so easy but he's so horny he doesn't even know how he kept it to together this long. "Fine! fuck me please~" Giyu begs in a whisper, he knows your not going for that bullshit. "HUH? I couldnt catch that, what now?" He knows your teasing him but what does he expect messing with a demon like you.

"Fuck me please~, I've been waiting for you!~" that's more like it more passion, more energy.

That's all you needed to make a move on him pulling him by his hips back into the shadows against a tree taking his lips onto yours, stroking Giyu's lip with the tip of your tounge, Giyu starting to subconsciously grind his erection against your stomach. You franticly pull his pants down to expose his leaky, red dick turning him around face pushed up against the tree spitting into your hand rubbing it against his hole.

"I prepped myself for you already~" This little slut is so desparate he couldn't even wait for you. He knows you do that for him, You grip his hair taking a handful and pulling his head back exiting a high pitched groan out of the man " You just want to get fucked harder huh?" You unzip your pants pulling your cock out spitting on the tip and spreading while Giyu waved his ass on your tip to tease you.

Grabbing his neck shoving your dick in Giyu takes a inhale holding on to the bark of the tree feeling him take a gulp. "mhmm fuck me-e" He moans out as a faster pace gets exstablished him gripping your hips to push you dipper against his prostate your grip on his neck start to loosen moving to his hair again reaching balls deep making his eyes roll to the back of his head.

"You look like your gonna come already slut." Accurate statement he was soo very close to cumming, so desperate.

"I am!~, please let me I've taken you like a-a good boy." He hiccups, tears exiting his eyes looking at you move in and out of his hole unmercilessly. "Cum on my dick." That was all he needed to hear for the spurts to shoot out meeting the rich soil on the ground.

a/n this sucked but if you still read it TY lol

[joelssimp]

STILL | CHAPTER 21

CW: Not much on this one. Food and Alcohol consumption. Latino warmth, Christmas Eve, public invasion and protective Pedro. So, neither spanish or english are my first language. I'm translating most of the spanish stuff, so if there's something off, just let me know and I'll fix it. And it took me longer for this one because I was trying to figure out the Pascal family dynamic, and how to make it feel authentic.

5K words

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21 - Notchebuena

Pedro’s apartment was a mix of different smells that I would never put together, it was cinnamon, roasted garlic, cilantro, cheese, peppermint and everything that brought a Christmas memory of Canadians and Latin Americans. Music poured through the space, reggaetón classics and old-school Christmas songs with Spanish lyrics I was slowly learning to catch pieces of. Laughter spilled from the kitchen, the hallway, the open balcony doors, where Pedro had strung up lights like a kid on sugar, too proud of himself to admit he didn’t know how half of them were working.

I came in with Kate and Mandy at both of my sides, arms full of gifts, which had bad wrapper Christmas paper and too much tape to fix the mistakes. One of them was on a gift bag that had very clearly been purchased at the drugstore fifteen minutes before. Mandy had gotten impatient with wrapping.

The door had barely shut behind us when Javi came flying in from the kitchen, arms outstretched, all warmth and a laugh that made my chest ache in the best way. She hugged me first, tight and loud, then turned to Mandy and Kate like they were already her cousins.

"Finally! La hermana! (the sister) And la roommate! We've heard all about you guys"

“Mostly good things,” I joked, nudging Mandy forward.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Kate said, half under her breath, but she was smiling wide already, and Javiera pulled her in like she’d known her since kindergarten.

Pedro caught my eye across the room, all warm from wine and too much love from his siblings. He shines a little brighter whenever there’s another Balmaceda Pascal close, and that night all four of them will be together so they can travel down to Chile to go see their father the next day.

I loved him a little more in moments like this — when he allowed himself to just relax by being together with those who truly matter.

And then…

“Oye, Nico!” Javiera called, voice rising above the music. “Ven a conocerla, huevón!” (Come meet her, dude!)

A younger man emerged from the hallway, dressed in black jeans, sneakers, and a dark red button-up rolled up to the elbows. He had Pedro’s eyes, but not the shape of his face. He reminded me a lot of his nephew Bruno. There was a bounce to his step that gave away how young he really was.

“This is Nicolás,” Pedro said, coming up behind me and curling a hand around my waist. “My little brother.”

“I’m not that little anymore,” Nico shot back in perfect English, already holding out his hand. “I’ve seen the pictures. You’re even prettier in real life.”

“Nicolás,” Javiera warned, throwing a kitchen towel at him.

I laughed and shook his hand anyway. “Thanks. You’re trouble, huh?”

“I like her,” he said, grinning at Pedro like that was some kind of stamp of approval.

Mandy and Kate both snorted at the same time behind me.

And then, from the dining area, came a warm, rich voice with an accent much thicker than Pedro’s or Javiera’s.

“And I’m the poor man married to that one,” said a tall, bearded man with kind eyes, pointing a thumb at Javiera while balancing a glass of wine and what looked like a baby carrot.

She rolled her eyes dramatically and introduced him as Mateo, her husband. He was Argentinian and instantly charming — witty in that dry, exact way that let him stand beside Javiera and not get steamrolled. He gave Kate and Mandy hugs that didn’t feel forced, and shook my hand with both of his like I’d just walked into something sacred.

“Pedro has good taste,” he said softly, sincerely, when no one else was listening. “He talked a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the girl who turned my oldest son into a photo-intusiastic.”

I smiled big at that. Already knew Pedro Jr. picked up the interest into analog photography since we first met back in June. He sent me some of his recent works and asked me for tips on how to make it better. And I loved being the one responsible to wake that new talent.

All around me, it was bustling, Pedro’s apartment felt so small with so many people in it. Didn’t look like the place I stayed for around a week with him in that little bubble of happiness. The kids were shouting in Spanglish, Javiera was dancing with Mateo, a Santa hat in her head, hanging for its life. And Nico was trying to make a playlist no one would agree on.

This whole new world with them felt loud, but in a good-family-love way. They welcomed Kate and Mandy with so much ease, it felt like they knew each other their whole lives.

“Alright, gringas,” Nico called, heading toward the wine. “Let’s teach you how we do Nochebuena. First rule: Dinner’s at midnight, and midnight only. Second rule: you have to dance… No fucking exeptions.”

Kate raised a brow. “You gonna show us how?”

He grinned like that was a challenge.

Pedro slid up behind me again, arms brushing mine, and pressed a soft kiss to my temple.

“I told you,” he murmured into my hair. “You’re family now.”

“They’re loud.” I whispered to him pretending it was a secret.

“You haven’t seen all of it, trust me. Once I get you down to Chile, it will be the loudest thing you’ll ever witness.” His fingers found mine, and his arm was around me like second nature.

My heart picked up a little with the mention of “going to Chile”. He already told me once he would like to introduce his whole giant family to me. His cousins would make fun of him for dating a “gringa”, and he would show off as a proud man.

I could see Javi and Nico darting in our direction, proud of their brother, as if saying — He’s finally where he’s supposed to be.

The love and support of his family was something hard for my mind to comprehend. The Balmacedas were so warm in that Latin-American way where they didn’t ask you if you wanted another drink, they just bring it to you. Or the way one of the kids snuck a piece of candy to me, because apparently “waiting until midnight was bullshit.”

And when I thought it couldn’t get crazier, the door burst open just as Mandy was mid-gloat about beating Mateo at a dice game she still didn’t fully understand, and Kate was spinning around the living room in socks with Bruno, who had crowned her “la más divertida” (the most fun) approximately twenty minutes after meeting her.

“¡Llegué, carajo!” (I'm here, damn it!) Lux’s voice rang down the hallway like a firework, lighting up the room even further with the energy only she could bring to a place already full.

Pedro lit up instantly. I don’t think I’d ever seen him move so fast. He didn’t walk toward the door, no, that was too normal for the Pascals. He just launched himself, weaving through the chaos like a man on a mission. And there she was: coat halfway off, her hair wild from the December wind, dragging a small suitcase behind her. She looked like a party herself.

“Your hair’s longer,” she said as Pedro grabbed her and lifted her clear off the floor.

“And your mouth’s still loud,” he shot back, laughing.

“Still rude,” she beamed. “Now where is mi niña linda? (my beautiful girl) Where’s my partner in crime?”

Before I could say a word, Lux spotted me.

“There you are!” she cried, arms already open. I barely had time to put my glass down before she was hugging me. Her arms so tight around my body, I couldn't breathe properly. So all I did was squeeze her back with the same intensity.

“You smell like cinnamon and wine,” she said, nose scrunching. “And hunger… Javi is making you wait till midnight?”

I laughed into her shoulder. “You smell like airports and chaos. I missed you. And yeah, we’re all waiting.”

“You know we don’t usually do that, right?” Lux went ahead already hugging her older sister “Stop playing pranks on the poor Canadians”

“They should experience a full immersion on Nochebuena” Javi answered, acting as innocent as ever “Nico’s idea. Fight him��

She didn’t bother. Apparently, fighting wasn’t a good thing to do on Christmas Eve. So she just went ahead, making herself at home. Squeezed my arm again with a beautiful smile tugging her lips.

“I missed you,” she said, sounding like a sister. “I’ve been saving so many Spanish phrases for this moment.”

“Oh God.”

“She already said ‘Estoy feliz que estés aquí’ earlier,” (I'm happy you're here) Pedro chimed in proudly from behind her.

Lux stepped back, eyes wide. “Shut up. She’s using subjunctive now? That’s my girl.”

I shrugged, mock-modest. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

“You’ve had an excellent teacher. I take all the credit. Now—” she spun around, eyes scanning the room. “Who are these gorgeous creatures?”

Mandy stepped forward first. “You must be the Lux. I’ve heard stories.”

“Only good ones, I hope,” Lux said, holding out a hand.

“Depends who’s telling them,” Kate cut in, already grinning. “She’s the little sister.”

Lux gasped. “The sister? The one who knows all the secrets?”

“All the good and the bad ones,” Mandy said with a smirk.

Lux laughed. “I love you already. We’re going to get along too well.”

The introductions spiraled from there. Lux moved through the room like she belonged to everyone. Mateo handed her a glass of something strong without asking, Nico gave her a high five and mumbled something about still owing her money from last Christmas. Even Pedro Jr., who had been brooding quietly in a corner like a cool teen with the weight of the world on his shoulders, cracked a smile when Lux complimented his shoes.

And Bruno? Bruno tackled her with a running hug, which she returned effortlessly, barely lifting him into the air with a dramatic spin.

“¡Mi chico favorito!” (My favorite boy!) she said. “Have you been behaving?”

“No,” he said proudly.

“Good. We can work with that.”

The whole apartment seemed to inhale and then exhale differently after Lux arrived. She brought a different rhythm with her. Everyone was a little louder, and happier. The laughs poured out of the main room mixing with the song that Nico set on.

We danced. God, we danced like there was no tomorrow.

Lux dragged me into a salsa I couldn’t keep up with but we didn’t care. Pedro tried to steal me back and my body ended up in a tug-of-war between his sister and his hands, all of us laughing too hard to let go. Javiera taught Mandy how to make her hips lie, already complaining about how “we moved like we’re saying sorry over and over again”. Kate got into a shouting match with Mateo over the best argentinian snacks. Nico ended up DJing with Pedro Jr., who finally, finally started showing people his Spotify playlists like they were classified documents.

The table was littered with wine bottles, beer cans, three half-empty whiskey glasses, and a plate of empanadas that Lux kept stealing from and blaming on Bruno.

At some point, I found myself pressed into the curve of Pedro’s side, watching it all, my head tucked beneath his chin, his hand resting over mine.

“Is this too much?” he asked softly.

I looked up at him, this man who somehow made every version of home I’d ever imagined feel small in comparison.This man with a heart and a family so big, it was overflowing from his rented apartment. And he made me part of it all.

“Not too much,” I whispered. “This is… This is good.”

He smiled. “They can be a handful sometimes. Let me know if you want a break, I can take you to the balcony.” The words came out and I knew he was just itching to have some minutes alone in the middle of this craziness.

The music changed right then. Nico put on something slower for the room to breathe a little, and Lux walked by, mouthing dibs and pointing to Pedro.

“No,” I mouthed back, laughing.

“Too late,” she mouthed, then yelled, “Switch!” and stole him anyway.

He didn’t fight it. Just rolled his eyes and let her lead him in an over-the-top tango that made Mandy yell “BRAVO!” and Kate try to record the whole thing while shaking with laughter.

Then Javiera’s voice rang out over the room “¡Papa está llamando!” (Dad is calling!)

Silence, fast and electric, rippled through the space. Pedro immediately grabbed his phone from the counter, the room gathered around, and suddenly, like a spell, everything stilled. It was the pause needed for the whole room.

His dad’s face came into view: José, kind-eyed and warm, calling from Santiago with a backdrop of bright blue sky behind him. 

Pedro have some noticeable features from his mother, of course. But it was almost like I could see young José in him. He looks so much like his dad. 

It was possible to hear the love in the way everyone greeted him — “¡Papá!” “¡José!” “¡Abuelito!” — voices layered and loud with so much tenderness and affection. The room felt fuller with the digital presence of the person who started this family.

Lux blew kisses. Javiera raised her glass. Bruno waved so wildly the phone nearly dropped from Pedro’s hand. José’s eyes crinkled as he tried to take it all in, and I swear, it's the same crinkles my boyfriend has around his eyes.

“Mira a esta familia hermosa,” he said. “Y todos juntos. Qué bendición.” (Look at this beautiful family,and all of them together. What a blessing.)

Pedro’s voice was soft. “We miss you, papá.”

“I miss you more. But I’m happy seeing you like this. Together.” His strong accent came through, making me smile.

And then... Pedro shifted the phone. Just enough to change the view from the whole family to… us.

“This is her,” he said simply.

Suddenly, my smile was evident and shaky.

José blinked, tilted his head like he was seeing something familiar and new all at once. “Ahh,” he said. “La fotógrafa.” (The photographer)

I smiled, shy but steady. “Mucho gusto.” (Nice to meet you)

“El gusto es mío, mi niña. Gracias por cuidar a mi hijo.”

I didn’t catch all the words, but honestly? Didn’t have to. He spoke with so much tenderness wrapped around each letter, that I got the meaning instantly. Pedro didn’t say anything, his hand found mine again, fingers threading gently, telling his father everything he needed to know about us, and about what this all meant to him.

My body leaned instantly into his, and José’s smile went on even wider than it was.

Later, after the call ended with promises, so much love and plans for Santiago, the chaos resumed. Mandy and Nico were deep in a Star Wars debate that had somehow roped in Pedro Jr. (“Grogu would never—”), Bruno fell asleep curled in a chair with a slice of pan de pascua still in his hand, and Lux laid her head on Kate’s shoulder, muttering something about “found family being the best kind.”

And I just stood there, in the middle of it all, soaking it in.

The laughter inside had softened to low murmurs and the occasional clink of glasses. Javiera’s family had left about half an hour ago, hugging everyone goodbye with the kind of affection that left my chest aching in the best possible way. The apartment was still full. Mandy and Kate were inside helping Lux clean up the kitchen, half-singing some old reggaetón song while they argued about what counted as “real” salsa — The food, not the dance.

I stepped out onto the balcony with a blanket around my shoulders, the cool air kissing the back of my neck so gentle. The street below was quiet, soft layers of light snow making every sound feel distant and muffled. A few windows in the buildings across the street were lit, just the quiet proof that other people were having their own versions of this night, their own private chaos and joy. Or just the soft Canadian kind that meant early bedtime and even earlier waking up time to open up presents.

The sliding door opened behind me with a soft thud sound.

Pedro stepped out barefoot, wearing one of my sweaters again — the black one he always stole when I left it at his place. His hair was messier than usual, cheeks flushed from the whiskey and dancing, and something about the way he looked at me made the quiet between us hum.

I tilted my head to his direction. “You’re barefoot in the cold.”

He shrugged. “I’m Chilean. We’re built different.”

I laughed softly, pulling my blanket open just enough to let him slide in beside me. He didn’t ask. His arms were around my waist in less than a second. His nose found the curve of my neck and the warmth of his breath spilled along my skin in a familiar way.

We stayed like that for a long while. Warm despite the cold around. Hearts too full from a single night with his family, Mandy and Kate making Calgary a home like no other.

Then he said, voice low against my skin, “Come to Santiago with us.”

I blinked.

He didn’t look at me, just kept breathing against my neck and left a small kiss that made me shiver under his touch. “We’ll be back right after New Year’s. You, me, Lux, the boys and the rest... You’d love it.”

I shifted to face him slightly. “Pedro...”

“I know.” His voice came with a smile. “I know what you’re going to say. That Mandy’s still here, and Kate. That you’re still paying for Matt’s rehab. That money’s tight. I get it.”

I bit my lip. “It’s not just that. It’s… I don’t know. It feels like a lot. Like stepping into something I might not be ready for, yet.”

He finally met my eyes. “But you are. You’re already in it. They fucking love you. It feels right.”

I didn’t answer.

“I’ll pay for everything,” he added softly, his finger tracing my chin and he lifted his head just enough to kiss the soft skin of my ear. “Flights, food, we’re staying at my dad’s. Just say yes.”

I let out a slow breath, heart rattling with the weight of the offer. “You know I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?” His voice was careful, but firm. “You’d do it for me. You’re already doing so much for your brother, for everyone around you. Let me do something for you.”

I looked away, toward the stretch of night over Calgary. I wanted to say yes. Almost did it. The thought of seeing his childhood streets, meeting his father, seeing the version of him that lived there. The version that didn’t care about scripts, and call sheets, and agents who told him to keep it under the rug, to not spread the mess of our relationship around.

There’s something pure in revealing the person you were growing up. And the way he’s making a room for me in this part of his life is a little bit scary. I wanted to feel like I had earned it. Like it wasn’t just another kindness I had to keep track of.

“I don’t want to feel like I owe you,” I said finally, voice small.

He turned me gently to face him. “You don’t. That’s the difference. I don’t want anything in return. I just want to share things with you.”

He’s already leaning in, landing a small kiss on the corner of my mouth.

“And if you want to bring Mandy,” he added with a slow, hopeful smile, “I’ll get an extra room. She can come too.”

I laughed, tired and touched at the same time. “You’d let my teenage sister third-wheel our romantic escape to Santiago?”

“I’d let her DJ the entire trip if it meant I get to watch you fall in love with my country,” he said.

I shook my head. “And Kate?”

He grinned. “We’ll turn it into a full-blown gringo invasion.”

I snorted and leaned into his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m dead serious.” His fingers skimmed over the blanket, tracing the curve of my arm. “Come with me.”

I didn’t know how to decline the offer. Didn’t want him to feel like I don’t want this part of him, but I wasn’t ready. So instead of saying yes or no, I just tucked my face under his chin and let my silence be something he could hold, something that wasn’t rejection. I was saying that there’s fear, but also so much love.

“I want to,” I whispered eventually. “But I need to stay here this time.”

He nodded slowly just once. It was still a desire, but he’s the most gentle person I’ve ever met, and consent to him is something he takes very seriously. He didn’t try to convince me again. Didn’t push or prod.

He just kissed my forehead. “Next time, then.”

“Next time,” I repeated, letting the words settle into the night air like a promise.

His arms hold me a little tighter. It’s almost instinctive at this point. Almost four months since our first kiss, and my lips will never not search his. One of my hands finds the back of his head and his lips are moving so soft on mine, I almost melt inside the grip of his arms.

I insisted on coming with them. It felt simple, I was saying goodbye to a family that made last night so damn warm. Saying goodbye for another week to the person that makes my days brighter, and the one responsible for eighty per cent of my smiles.

The airport was too bright. That kind of fluorescent morning light that didn’t care about how heavy your chest felt walking toward the international departure gates. There were suitcases rolling over smooth tile, the echo of children’s voices, too many jackets flung over carry-ons, and the warmth of family pressed into every corner of the scene ahead of me.

Javiera was trying to herd her boys toward the check-in line while also balancing two iced coffees. Lux was half asleep in a hoodie too big for her body, dragging her backpack behind her like it had personally betrayed her morning. Nico had earbuds in, but smiled every once in a while, when he saw his brother trying to contain his own hands from reaching for mine.

We walked like a weird tribe of weird individuals.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” Javi asked, half teasing, but with a soft voice of a big sister.

“I’m sure,” I said, smiling. “Someone has to hold things down here.”

She gave me a look like we both know that’s a lie, but kissed my cheek anyway.

Bruno was a little mad I wasn’t coming with them. He told me the night before I was one of his favorite adults already.I nudge his shoulder and offered a chewing gum like a peace offering.

He rolled his eyes and took it “You coming next year, no arguments.”

“I’m coming next year, and I’m beating your ass at a Fifa match. Watch out”

“Oh, you’re so on.” He grinned.

Pedro, the older of the two boys, just leaned in and hugged me tight. He didn’t say much. He never did. But he didn’t have to. He’d been slowly opening up to me and his love for photography was something we truly could bond. And that quiet bond meant more than I could say.

Nico pulled me into a side hug. “I didn’t expect to like you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Thanks?”

He smirked. “Pedro talks about you like you invented oxygen. Thought you were gonna be some influencer or something.”

I rolled my eyes. “And yet… here I am. Disappointing you with my regularness.”

He grinned. “Nah. You’re alright.”

Lux was last. She hugged me like she was already counting the days ‘till we could be together again, and we didn’t even say goodbye. Just promised to keep the Spanish lessons going, and maybe schedule another call where we watched terrible telenovelas together and drank boxed wine even miles away from each other.

I knew it was coming. As soon as Lux let me go from her arms, he was already by my side.

Pedro had those puppy eyes. The look of someone who had a lot to say and not a lot of time to do so.

We drifted a few steps away from the group without really meaning to. Not too far, but enough so no one would interrupt anything. He reached for my hand, not really sure if I was going to oppose to it, but I gave it without thinking.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” he asked softly, eyes flicking across my face like he was looking for a crack.

“I’ll miss you,” I said honestly. “But, yeah, I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll miss you too.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Try not to drive Kate crazy while I’m gone.”

“No promises.”

He smiled. That slow, private one he only ever gave to me.

And then he kissed me.

Fast enough so no one would dare to double back. His lips tasted like the coffee he had this morning. It was the kind of kiss people give when they’re already missing you. When the goodbye is already happening in their mouth. His fingers curved around my jaw. Mine curled in the fabric of his coat.

And for a second, everything else went quiet.

Until it didn’t.

I didn’t hear the camera. There was no flash, no obvious phone pointed at us. No fan running over for an autograph or to blurt out are you two dating? And specially, no paparazzi around. Calgary is supposed to be a safe area from all of that.

But when we pulled back. Still close, still lost in it, I saw the shift in his expression. His brown eyes scanned the terminal behind me with a coldness that wasn’t there before. His posture changed, subtle, but it was there. Like something had clicked in his senses.

“What?” I asked, already feeling the thud in my chest.

He didn’t answer right away. Just lowered his voice and said, “Something is off.”

Pedro didn’t let go of my hand, but I felt the subtle shift in the way he held it — a firmer grip, a tiny pull that told me his brain had flipped into something else entirely. Protective. Strategic. The version of him I’d only seen when something came too close and too fast.

He was already pulling his phone out of his coat pocket, thumb unlocking it in a single second. He was not even looking at it, because his eyes didn’t leave the crowd of travellers coming and going around us.

“Pedro,” I whispered.

He shook his head once, gently, then turned slightly so his body was angled between me and whatever had just happened. His voice stayed low.

“I have to call Franklin. Or Sue. Someone needs to know… If there’s a picture, we might still have time to track it before it hits the news.”

His hand moved fast now, tapping out a message as we walked back toward the group pretending that nothing had happened. I watched the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers flew across the screen. He wasn’t in panic mode. That was him taking matters with his own hands and doing something that was in his reach.

I hated that he had to be like this around me. That everything we do in public has to come with the possibility of damage control. 

He slipped the phone to his ear before I could say anything else. Walked a few steps away, voice calm but firm.

“I think someone got a picture of us. At the airport, just now… No, not a fan. Looked intentional. Try to find it before it hits public. Copyright buy it, if possible.”

I stood there, suddenly too exposed to whatever that was.

“No, Sue, I do not care how much they ask…”

Javi was the one to notice it before anyone else. She came up beside me and bumped my shoulder softly with hers.

“You alright?”

I nodded. “Just… wasn’t expecting that.”

She didn’t ask what that was. With Pedro right there speaking to his agent like a scandal had surfaced, there was no question to be asked.

“He’ll take care of it,” she said. “That’s what he does.”

I looked at her, surprised. “He’s done this before?”

She shrugged, but there was warmth in her smile. “Not like this. But he’s always protected the things that matter the most to him.”

I swallowed hard. Pedro was still on the call, eyes darting toward me between quick bursts of angry English and some curse words in Spanish. I could hear the tension in his voice though. 

It’s not like we didn’t know the risks. We’re grown ups. We love each other in between four walls all the time, and sometimes the love is too strong to keep quiet like that.

It was just one quick goodbye kiss.

My arms came up to cover my chest like I needed something to hold me up while he was still on the phone. And Lux came over next, looping her arm through mine.

“We still have like one hour before boarding. You wanna get another coffee or something?”

I nodded, grateful for the deflection. But even as we wandered off toward the café at the edge of the terminal, my eyes kept drifting back to him.

He was off the call now, pacing slowly, typing again.

Protecting something.

Protecting us.

And I realized then: This wasn’t just about avoiding headlines. It was about the time we hadn’t had yet to be with each other and to discover how deep this all goes. How deep we could both go until there’s no coming back from it. Until it becomes too obvious and strong enough that nothing and no one could reach us.

He wasn’t ready to share what we have with the world yet.

And neither was I.

This is the first chapter with a taglist, if you'd like me to add your username to it, let me know ;) Taglist: @kellyxo1

[holylulusworld]

Dumbass Stalker (5) – Shiny hero

Summary: You’re the worst stalker ever.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: stalking, obsession, possessive/delusional reader

A/N: Please consider that this reader is obsessed with SB. Her behavior is concerning.

Dumbass stalker masterlist

Dumbass Stalker (4) - Turned tables

“Who asked you?” You raise your voice as people demonstrate in front of the Tower of the Seven. “What did you ever do for humanity to criticize Soldier Boy?”

It’s the first time you actively said something at a gathering or yelled at someone in public. The woman made you mad, though. She was nagging about Soldier Boy earning so much money while she works three shifts to make ends meet.

“Yeah, capitalism sucks, but that’s not Soldier Boy’s fault! He saves people. They give him money for it. I have a shitty job too, but that’s not his fault either.” You argue when she tries to talk back. “Your boss is the asshole here, not someone you've never met. All bosses are.”

After that, you turn on your heels and walk away. You came here to see Soldier Boy, but once again, he didn’t show. For weeks, you didn’t get a glimpse of your man, and you are close to despairing.

“HEY YOU BITCH! HOW DARE YOU YELL AT MY WIFE!” The woman’s husband suddenly stands in front of you, blocking your path. “She spoke the truth.”

“Her truth,” you reply. “Listen, she can have her opinion; I have mine. Now, get out of my way.” You try to side-step the man, but he won’t have it. He blocks your path, puffing his chest.

“What are you gonna do now, bitch? Now you do not look so confident any longer.” He smirks and takes a step toward you. Crap, this is bad. None of the people around seem to care that the man threatens you over an argument with his wife.

“Listen, I told you she can have her opinion. You can’t expect everyone to agree with her. This is a place to celebrate the seven. Why did she come here if she hates them?” You cock your head. “I bet she came to stir shit, just like you. Why don’t you go back to hating on someone saving people every day and leave me alone?”

“You won’t get away with talking like that to my wife!” He snarls, eyes wild and hands reaching out to grab your arms.

“Hands off the lady,” a hero decided to step in. None other than Soldier Boy stepped in front of you to defend you. “I don’t think the lady wants you to touch her. Go away, or I'll make sure you go away.”

You are in awe. Your hero. Your dream man. Your knight in shiny armor came to your rescue. Soldier Boy himself saved the day.

“Hey, man… It was all just fun.” The man raises his hands and huffs. “No need to play the hero. We are all here to celebrate, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Soldier Boy pats his shield. “That’s good, isn’t it? If not, I’d throw you against the building and crack your body like a nut.”

Gasping, you watch Soldier Boy shoo the man away. You whimper and whine as your hero turns around to check on you. “Miss, are you alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“You saved me, Mr.… I mean Soldier Boy. He was aggressive, but you made him leave. Thank you so much for your help.” Your eyes fill with honest tears as you didn’t expect your hero to come to your rescue.

“Miss, it’s my duty and my honor to save a lovely lady in need.” He flashes you a stunning smile, making you weak in the knees. You’re about to faint when he wraps one arm around your waistline to keep you upright. “I’m afraid you are a little out of it. Let me help you.”

“I—I,” you stammer. Your brain is mush, and you cannot form a coherent sentence. Black dots cloud your vision, and you fall against his chest, losing consciousness.

“It’s quite right,” he murmurs, and you find yourself in his arms. The crowd gasps and cheers as he carries you away from them and toward a black limousine waiting for him. “I’ll bring you somewhere safe.”

That was the most intense dream you've ever experienced about Soldier Boy. You’re sure when you wake. “That was…” You slowly blink your eyes open, rubbing them. “What? Where?” You exclaim because you are not in your bedroom.

“Ah, you are finally awake!” Your eyes widen, seeing Soldier Boy standing in front of the bed. “I didn’t know where you’re living, so I brought you to my place.”

Fuck. You are about to cum, untouched, feeling his mattress underneath you. How many women did he ruin in these sheets, you wonder, eyes dropping to the blanket covering you.

You can’t see it, but Soldier Boy smirks at your reaction. He’s pleased with himself. Stirring the shit was his idea. He staged the incident to get your attention and see if you’d come to his aid first.

“I'm sorry for troubling you,” you murmur. “You surely have more important things to do than come to my rescue.”

“You defended me first,” he replies with a smile. “I heard every word, and it made me damn proud to carry my shield and wear my suit for someone like you. But you shouldn’t put yourself in danger for me.”

“SIR! Mr. Soldier Boy.” You touch your warm cheeks and giggle. “You are worth every danger. You do so much for humanity.”

“You are flattering me,” he chuckles deep and rich, making your clit tingle. You press your legs together to tame the beast in your panties. “Don’t stop, though. I like it when you praise me, princess.”

The pet name makes you whimper, and you bite your lower lip to not embarrass yourself. “It is true. You’re a hero and deserve all the praise.”

Soldier Boy crosses his arms over his chest, looking at you expectantly. He dips his head and hums. “I knew you’d be perfect, princess…”

[maggieluvsoasis]

"His love."

Notes: HI!! I wanted to write something short and sweet because of what i just dropped, it was heartbreaking sorry guys. This was a request and i literally wish i could tag the person but it was anon, i also made this 2023!Liam from when he got buttons. sorry its so short. Noel fics are coming soon because i have so much spare time now. hope u enjoy!

Genre: Fluff!

Who: Liam Gallagher x Wife!reader

Summary: You have always been there for Liam, and always will be. He loves you to death for that.

"I live under your eyelids, I'll always be yours."

The lights dimmed, the crowd roared, and for a moment, just a flicker. Liam Gallagher felt young and reckless again. He stood there on stage, soaked in sweat, his shirt clinging to him, his arms open as if he were welcoming the chaos. But the moment passed. The adrenaline wore thin, and in the echo of the last chord, the applause hit different than it used to.

He walked offstage, his boots heavy on the wooden steps, the veins in his neck still pulsing from the final chorus. Fifty-Two years old and still doing it, still filling venues, still making people proud. But some things never stopped aching. The space beside him, always just a bit too empty, reminded him that he wasn’t there.

Noel.

It had been years since Oasis crumbled for good. Years since the last real row, the last backstage blow-up that ended with doors slamming and their names split down the middle. Years of pretending it didn’t still dig into his ribs some nights, especially after gigs. Liam had made peace with a lot, mellowed out, even laughed about some of it in interviews, but that wound never quite scabbed over. You can’t fake that kind of brotherhood. You can’t replace it.

But he had you.

And that changed everything.

“Alright, rockstar,” you murmured, standing just past the curtain, a soft smile already in place.

Liam’s eyes met yours, and something in him softened, just enough for you to see it. His swagger didn’t disappear, of course not. That would never happen. He still had that cocky walk, the narrowed gaze, the pout that came naturally when he wasn’t talking. But when he looked at you, it shifted. It always did.

“Didn’t think I butchered it too bad, did I?” he asked, still catching his breath, grabbing the towel someone handed him.

“You were lovely,” you said, stepping closer, wrapping your arms around him without hesitation. Sweat didn’t bother you. This was Liam.

Your Liam.

He chuckled against your hair, pressing his face into the side of your neck for a second longer than he usually allowed himself in public. You felt him breathe out, that unspoken relief that only came once the noise of the crowd was behind him.

“Cheers, love. Thought I might mess up on that second chorus—forgot the bloody words for a sec.”

“You pulled it off. They didn’t even notice.”

He smirked, pulling back just enough to look at you. “’Course they didn’t. I’m a professional, ain’t I?”

You grinned. “A very sweaty one.”

He leaned in and kissed you, unbothered by how gross he must’ve felt, by the people still moving around backstage, by the chaos of the post-show comedown. Liam had never been afraid of being seen, but when it came to you, he didn’t care how he was seen, only that he was seen with you.

“Let’s go home,” he said, voice quieter now, his voice still warm and familiar. “I’m knackered.”

You nodded, already reaching for his jacket that someone had folded over a chair. “Big night,” you said.

“Always is,” he replied. Then, without missing a beat, he added, “But I don’t give a toss about all that right now. Just wanna be with you.”

That was the difference. Years ago, it would’ve been about the afterparty, the press, the cameras, the madness. But now? Now it was about getting in the car with you, peeling off his stage clothes, eating crisps on the couch, and letting his bones settle. He didn’t need noise anymore. He just needed something real.

And he had it. He had you.

As the crowd outside still chanted his name, your fingers laced with his. Liam didn’t look back.

He had already won.

—

The door creaked open with the same old groan it always had. Familiar. Lived-in. Home. Liam stepped in first, boots heavy against the hardwood floor, the night’s buzz still clinging to his skin like a second layer of sweat. You followed behind him, switching on the dim hallway light while he tossed his coat across the back of the old armchair. The same coat he always forgot to hang up. But you didn’t mind.

The house smelled like it always did, like cedarwood from the candle you always kept on the mantel, mixed with the soft trace of lavender detergent from the last load of laundry. Comforting. Like warmth on a rainy Manchester day.

And then there was the soft tack tack tack of paws on the floor.

“Oi, look who’s awake!” Liam grinned, his tired eyes lighting up as Buttons came trotting around the corner, tail wagging with a silent, wiggling joy. She wasn’t a puppy anymore, but she still moved like one when she saw him. A quiet, velvety Thai ridgeback with big soulful eyes, long legs, and the gentlest nature. The kind of dog that only barked once a month, maybe less. She was all limb and love.

Liam crouched down on instinct, forgetting the way his knees would yell at him tomorrow. “C’mere, girl. Missed me, did ya?” he murmured as she nuzzled into his chest, tail flicking back and forth.

You leaned in the doorway, smiling at the sight. This was the Liam most people never got to see. No sunglasses, no swagger, no snide one-liners, just him and his dog, like they were stitched from the same bit of soul.

“She probably waited by the door for a while after you left,” you said softly, coming over to scratch behind Buttons’ ears.

“Loyal little thing,” Liam muttered, planting a kiss on top of her head. “Better than half the people I’ve worked with.”

You snorted. “Except me.”

He looked up at you with a small smirk. “You’re in a whole different category, love. You’re not just loyal. You’re mad enough to put up with me.”

“True,” you teased, brushing a hand through his damp hair. “You look like you’ve been rolled in salt.”

“Feel like it too. Gonna have a shower before me skin falls off,” he grunted as he stood, scratching the small of his back. “Be back in ten. Don’t start watchin’ anything without me.”

“No promises,” you called after him as he shuffled toward the bathroom, already peeling off his shirt.

The sound of running water echoed faintly down the hall, and you and Buttons wandered to the living room. You plopped onto the worn, L-shaped couch and patted the cushion next to you. “Come on, girl.” Buttons hopped up gracefully, curling into a tight little ball with her chin on your thigh, content as ever.

—

Fifteen minutes later, the water stopped. Another few passed before Liam emerged, a pair of grey joggers clinging to his damp legs and a shirt that fit a little to snug on his chest. His hair dripped. He looked softer like this, less stage, more man. That slightly rounder stomach, the little lines around his eyes, the occasional greys in his scruff. It all suited him.

“You start it without me?” he said, walking in as you reached for the remote.

“Nope. Just got comfy.”

Liam dropped down beside you with a huff, dragging a throw blanket over the two of you, Buttons included. She let out a small sigh—her version of approval.

As the opening theme of The Great British Bake Off played on the telly, Liam slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side like a magnet. You fit there easily, your head resting against his chest, the beat of his heart steady beneath your cheek. The scent of his body wash. Cedar and something smoky, was fresh and warm against your skin.

“Here we go again,” Liam muttered, squinting at the screen. “This lot couldn’t bake a fuckin’ scone if their life depended on it.”

You giggled. “Don’t start.”

“Look at ‘im—Paul Bloody Hollywood with his signature bakes and his judgy eyes. Absolute wanker.”

“Liam—”

“Nah, seriously. That sponge is dry as a camel’s arse. You could do better than that, easy.”

You looked up at him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. You’re the only bird I know who can make pasta from scratch and still look fit doin’ it.”

You shook your head, shoulders bouncing with laughter as Liam kept going, commentary sharp, but dipped in affection. This was his ritual. Post-gig sarcasm and baking shows. It never got old. You could tell it made him feel normal. Like life had rhythm, like there was a place for him that didn’t require a spotlight.

Another contestant fumbled with a pastry bag and Liam let out a groan. “Oh, come on, mate. You’re squeezin’ it like it’s toothpaste. Pathetic. My wife can pipe in a straight line with one bloody eye closed.”

“Stop gassing me up,” you teased, nudging his ribs.

“Never,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “You’re the only thing in this house better than Buttons.”

Buttons raised her head at the mention of her name, blinking up at you both.

“Alright, second best,” Liam amended with a wink. “Don’t look at me like that, love. You know I adore you.”

You looked up at him, your fingers curling around his. “I know.”

And he knew too, that in this moment, this living room, with the dog dozing against his leg and you tucked under his arm, this was what he’d been craving all those years on the road, all those nights after the band split, after the fights with Noel left him more hollow than he wanted to admit.

Peace. It wasn’t quiet, not completely, but it was real.

His fingers played with yours absently as another episode rolled in, and the three of you drifted deeper into the sofa like you were made for it.

This was home. No crowd. No headlines. Just love, a good dog, and someone to laugh with over a half-baked sponge cake.

And for Liam Gallagher, that was more than enough.

—౨ৎ —

[slutforpringles]

What on earth was going on with the coverage on Sunday night? Because you mentioned this earlier. There was a time after the pit stops had shaken out, Piastri was on the mediums, Norris was on the hard tyres, and we kept getting told by the commentary that he was taking half a second off here and six tenths off here. And I kept looking at the timing tower and kept seeing the same margin between first and second, to the point where I actually started looking at the F1 timing app to see if, was there something wrong with the coverage? Am I not seeing this? I'm looking at the driver tracker and the two orange dots are kind of circulating in the same space.

And something that really bothered me, and I'm sure a lot of our listeners over the course of the weekend, particularly on Sunday, was that I understand that we take a British commentary feed and it's in their interests and it's completely explainable, they are going to be more excited when a British driver does something than a non-British driver does something. There's one thing to have some enthusiasm for one driver over the other. If you are going to blatantly misrepresent the facts, because this is a data-driven sport, if you are going to tell basically an incorrect narrative to suit your viewers or yourself, you are doing the viewing public a disservice and you're not being genuine in the way that you are presenting this to the wider global audience. I'll leave that with you because there was something about it that really felt off to me in that, yes, you can cheer, inverted commas, for the flag rather than the driver, but when you're blatantly misrepresenting facts in order to build up a false narrative, then I've got a problem with it.

via: Pit Talk | Piastri masterclass extends title lead over Norris: Belgian GP Review

We're in a period where it's almost, this is becoming the norm, an Oscar Piastri victory. Extends his championship lead again … Which you wouldn't know if you were watching the Sky Sports Broadcast. … I'm going to put a caveat on all of the following, which is that my criticism is the same as it's always been. It's not the fault of the people on the broadcast. Well, I mean, it is. But they're the British broadcaster, right? That's fine. But if they know they're selling their coverage to not just little old Australia, but also like the United States. No one knows where Kings Lynn is, stop talking about it! But that's the thing, you've got to not play to the back row all the time.

I want to read some messages from the Discord channel. 'Will Sky F1 protest the result?', which I think sums everything up really quite well. This is something that I noticed, I was chatting with a colleague overnight during the race, and that I couldn't believe, because sometimes it seemed like the commentators were watching a different race. 'Lap 17 they said Norris has taken 4 tenths off Piastri. Lap 22, another half a second. Lap 29, another half second. The gap never got under 8 seconds in that time. It bounced between 8 and 8 and a half seconds. You can't take half a second a lap off someone every lap and the gap not change.'

It's almost as if they were in a parallel universe where Norris had caught and overtaken Piastri at half distance. That's just what I just don't understand. 'Look, lucky he's a plucky Brit and has the entire race under control.' and 'What is Crofty on about? I know we're beating the dead horse now, but he just said there's a big swing coming Lando Norris' way, and it's a big if he can get past Piastri. Obviously that would happen, but he was eight seconds behind him!' Like, what's the point of even hypothesizing that when it's not even clear he's going to be able to catch him? It's just, it's absurd. 'This is probably the most blatant bias I've heard for a while in Sky Sports F1,' and I'm surprised by this as well, 'I'm surprised they haven't discussed the potential that Oscar's car was illegally underweight.'

I thought last night told me two things. One is that this is the British broadcaster, and that's fine, that's what they are, Sky Sports F1. But the second is, and this is the point and they said it themselves in the coverage, and I think that's sort of interesting in its own right. It's clear now, if it hasn't already been clear, that this championship is going to be won by either Oscar Piastri or Lando Norris. No one else. I know Zak Brown was like, oh, you know, Max Verstappen's still third, but he's 81 points behind, it's not happening. This is going to get worse the later the season gets on, and that's fine. If we had an Australian commentary team, I'd expect them to have an affection for Oscar when we get to Abu Dhabi and there's no points in it, whatever. But I think that any Australian viewer is in for a long old slog now, because it's going to be Australia versus… It's going to be a nationalistic battle, and we're going to have the British broadcasters going all in for, old mate our Land.

via: Box of Neutrals | Belgian Grand Prix

[humiliatemeplesse]

I don't care if we're in public, sniff it faggot. I'm actually hoping one of the guys from the ball game will come out of the locker room and go right by us so they can see what a disgusting little perverted faggot you are. If they find out they'll beat your fucking ass before they kick you out, imagine if they knew their equipment manager, in the locker room with them when they're buck naked, is a homo. You'll be lucky if you don't end up in the ER they'll probably stomp you into unconsciousness in their big dirty cleats. But for now get that snout in my sweaty stinking dirty socked feet and huff that stink in you fucking loser or I'LL stomp you with 'em.

[ckret2]

So with Aku and Scaramouche in a relationship, would Aku inform the public, hide it away, let the information slowly dribble down to them, what?

Actually already covered that topic for the most part on points 2-3-4 on this post (and, to a lesser extent, on this post). Lemme see what else I can add.

The only reason I can see him hiding it away is if he's worried it could make Scaramouche a target, and so he's keeping it secret to keep his little bot safe. Scaramouche has a pretty public-facing job, after all! Travels a lot, interacts face-to-face with a lot of people, many of whom don't like Aku!

But outside of that, I don't see him having a reason to hide it.

An interesting thing about Aku is that he just doesn't seem to be very self-conscious. Like usually big powerful egotistical villains are hiding a fragile little baby ego but like,, outside of that ONE time he wanted a bunch of children to think he's cool, Aku gives off far fewer of those vibes than usual.

He'll boast "nothing of this world can harm me!!" but the second a magic sword comes into play he shows no hesitation or embarrassment about going "oh, yeah, that thing can harm me."

He's not hesitant to admit that yeah he knows jack can totally kill him and he refuses to face him head-on for that reason, nor to admit that yeah Jack's kicked his ass several times in the past; he neither pretends that Jack can't possibly kill him, nor pretends that he's not scared to fight jack, the way other big-ego villains might.

He boasts about the capabilities he has but doesn't appear to be ashamed to admit the capabilities he doesn't have. he's not ashamed to admit he can't retrieve some artifact or stop an enemy by himself. He's mad when he loses, but not embarrassed about it. No shame about admitting right to his nemesis "im not fighting you today, im sick 🤧" Dude just seems to be immune to embarrassment!

Even when he's desperately trying to convince a bunch of children he's actually the hero, he doesn't seem embarrassed that they don't like his stories, just irritated that the plan isn't working. The only other time I can remember him denying something "embarrassing" is when he pretends he TOTALLY doesn't care about killing Jack anymore—and I think that has more to do with depression than with saving face. His ego is not as delicate as you might expect.

And so, for that reason—even though Aku has this whole image of cold aloofness, this image that he's too cruel and grand to ever be approachable, that he's beyond soft mortal sentiments like love and affection... if that should ever change? I don't think Aku would spend much time being self-conscious about it. No time wasted on the tsundere routine. He wouldn't be the kind of character to be stony and standoffish with a love interest just because people are watching and he's embarrassed to think they'll see him that way.

He is Aku! Who are you to question his new behavior?! Yeah last week he called humans "pathetic sentimental fools" for being motivated by love, so what? This is this week, get with the program, he has a lover now. He's calling him cutesy pet names grandiose titles like "my shining knight" with a straight face in broad daylight.

I still don't think he'd announce it unless it's actual public news for some reason. (Like, if he actually does decide to get married. Or if Scaramouche gets kidnapped or something—"You have not only taken my best assassin, but also my sole loved one, so think hard about what I'll do to YOUR loved ones should you so much as scuff his armor.") So "let it dribble out" is most likely. Either rumors start spreading and someone asks him about them and he's just like "yeah that's true," or else he casually lets it drop while discussing something else like it's no big deal.

Of course everyone on the planet except him is going to treat it like it's a big deal. Suddenly he's getting bombarded with journalists and gossip columnists clamoring to cover this breaking news. He finds it all a little irritating, mainly because he finds most of the questions prying and disrespectful. No of course he didn't have Scaramouche built for this purpose, you do both of them a disservice even by asking. It's none of your damn business what, if anything, they do in bed, have you no fear of Aku's eye lasers? Aku may not be self-conscious... but he's still private about a good amount of things.

On the other hand Scaramouche is dying inside if they have to hide it at all. The instant Scaramouche learns that they're now public knowledge, he's an open book. please, interview him! he WANTS to boast. Sure he'll tell you all about how they got together! Sure he can talk all day about what he sees in Aku! Yes he WILL tell you about the uncharacteristically affectionate things Aku says and does when they're alone together! He will describe their EXACT relationship status to the absolute best of his abilities, including whether they've met each other's parents. ("Well Aku hired my creators to build me in the first place, aaand he doesn't have parents, so.") Do the paparazzi want pictures? Give him your numbers, he'll text you a hundred couple selfies.

Part of this is that Scaramouche wants to brag; but part of it is that he's just bubbling over with excitement, like he never really expected he'd get this far!! Managing to woo Aku is as amazing as... as... as managing to woo Aku, he can't think of an alternate example that comes close to that! He's been craving this for DECADES and in his heart of hearts he never truly believed that he could ever hope for anything more than for Aku to accept his affection. He never imagined Aku—Aku!! Shogun of sorrow, evil incarnate!!—could reciprocate. It's beyond his wildest dreams. He's telling the whole world. This is the best thing that's ever happened to him. This is the best thing that's ever happened to anyone.