#also this weekend will be a year since my first thursday set..... a year since adjacent ...... what do you Mean

[wavernot4love]

just opened instagram to immediate whiplash when i saw this aka new dates .....

with YET ANOTHER thursdayband show in my immediate area???? the third in around ten months????? oh wavernot4love is going to be so very back this summer indeed

[cheriladycl01]

Would you write a Carlos or Max x reader please where she’s a driver too. They’re always worried about her when she races but they’re not prepared when she gets into a serious crash just running errands to the store. They get a call from her caller ID expecting her to have forgotten something but it’s a police officer or paramedic telling them she’s been in an accident. Thank you!

Is this Mr Sainz? - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Verstappen Reader x (Brother) Max Verstappen

Plot: You get into a car crash when shopping for the first food shop before a race weekend.

You were used to driving, it was literally your job at a professional level as a driver in Formula One driver. And you were good too, having 3 wins under your belt in only your third year in the sport.

Sometimes it felt like you only had your seat because you were a Verstappen, but racing was in your blood and you were becoming just as much of a menance as your brother on track.

You also had your boyfriend Carlos who you’d been dating since you were in F2. You never thoughtyou’d make it as far as F1, but after proving yourself in your F2 season, and not struggling too much without power steering, you were promoted.

Having Carlos and Max on track with you was so fun as you were always teasing and making jokes with each other especially in interviews and on Thursday media days.

Carlos and Max however hated the fact that they had to race you and track an that you were good enough to actually fight for position with the pair of them. They were both pretty worried about you before they got into the car. Once they were on track they both tried to consider you as just another car, but admitidly that was pretty hard.

They never thought about you normally driving… it was such a mundane thing compared to driving round tracks at around 250mph.

“Hello is this Mr Sainz?” the call came through whilst Carlos, Max, Lando, Oscar, Charles and Pierre were all in the hotel lobby just waiting around having drinks and talking. It was your caller ID so Carlos didnt think anything off it when he picked it up to here … well not you on the other end.

You were out, getting some snacks for in the hotel room. Everyone had sent you their orders and you’d gone out by yourself wanting some time alone ahead of the race weekend.

You were walking around the large shop, picking out what was given from the list before heading to the checkout. It was getting kind of late, and it was media day tomorrow so you wanted to go back as soon as possible.

“Hi, how are you?” You smile at check out lady who looks shocked to see you before starting to scan your items.

“I’m okay! How are you?” she asks back still looking over you in shock and you try not to chuckle at her reaction.

“I’m pretty good, just shopping for some snacks for my friends. This was the nearest place, its really nice in here” you smile as you take the items off her and pack them into one of your reusable bags.

“That’s gonna set you back $82.52” she says, her American accent coming through. You smile and shake your head.

“On snacks, my god I forgot how many people I was buying for” you chuckle handing over your black card and putting the food back into the trolley.

“Thank you so much! You’ve been so helpful!” you smile before you walk outside going to the car you had rented and loading up the boot of the car.

“Yes this is he” he says with a confused look, furrowing across his brows as he glances a the group who are also looking over to him.

“You are listed here as the emerency contact for a Y/N Verstappen yes?” the voice asks and Carlos feels his heart skip a beat. He looked over to Max, who was now chatting and joking around with Lando.

“Hold for one second please” he says before muting the call.

“Max, come outside. Now…” Carlos says gruffy, before walking outside to a quiet area where there arent any people to interrupt.

“Yes I am the emergency contact for Y/N Verstappen” Carlos sighs and Max freezes.

“She’s been in an accident and we are requesting you and a Max Vertsappen, her second emergency contact at he hospital immedielty” he explains and Max and Carlos share a look.

“What happened?” Max asks, a pause from the officer slighty confused at the different accent change.

“Whos this?”

“I’m her brother Max Vertsappen” he says, his tone cold.

“Well, it looks like she was coming back from the shops and a drunk driver ran through a red light and went into the side of her car crossing the road. She’s in surgery right now but that’s all i can confirm right now” he offers and tears build up in Carlos’ eyes. Max is sort of frozen in shock before he shakes himself out of it.

“We’ll be there as soon as possible, St David’s I’m guessing?” he asks and gets cofirmation from the officer before hanging up Carlos’ phone for him.

“Carlos come on” Max says pulling at his fellow drivers wrist who is now the frozen one with a blank look on his face.

“I-“ he starts but cant say anything.

“Carlos come on, this cant wait!” Max exclaims before the older man wakes himself up from his daze and follows Max to the lobby where their friends are waiting.

“Can one of you drive us to the hospital, we’re both to irratic to be behind the wheel right now” Max asks, looking at everyone who’d stopped their convrsations the minute the absent duo had come back in.

“What? What’s happened are you. okay?” Charles asks standing up.

“It’s Y/N she got into a car crash, drunk driver or something and she’s in the hospital right now” Carlos explains to the group.

“I’ll drive!” Lando agrees quickly, before taking them out to his McLaren, Carlos sat next to him while Max sat in the back.

“Whoever did this is going to pay” Max spits out angrily, tapping against the back of Lando’s seat.

“She’ll be okay, she’s like the strongest person i know” Lando replies looking in the rear view mirror at Max before concentrating back on the road.

They get to the hospital in record time running into the emergency department trying to look for Y/N.

“I’m going to go get some flowers and chocolate for her, you guys let me know the room shes in yeah?” Lando says knowing that they just want to ask and see how she is.

They nod the younger driver off before hounding the receptionist with questions.

“Is Y/N Verstappen here?” Carlos asks.

“She was in a car crash, an officer said she was in surgery?” Max asks.

“She’s an F1 Driver has her team been informed about the accident, what about her family?” Carlos asks.

“Slow down. I unfortunaltley dont have the answer to any of those questions but the first. She’s here, I’m not sure if she’s out of surgry yet but I will. page her doctor to come see you both. Please in the meantime take a seat” she directs them to the smaller and more privte waiting area.

Carlos takes a seat first his head in his hands while Max starts to make calls to his mum and dad and ther sister letting them know what was going on and telling them the limited knowlege he had on the situation.

In the time they’d been waiting, it had gotten out to h general public that you’d been in a car crash and articles and posts had been made online regarding the situation.

“For Y/N Verstappen?” a lady calls in a longwhite coat clipbaord in hand. Carlos’ head lifts up from his hands and he steps up towards the lady as Max hangs up.

“Yes?” Max asks looking over to the doctor.

“Your sister Y/N is out of surgery, it was hard work but she’ll make a full recovery in time. She’s a fighter and we really thought we’d lost her for a second. She’s asleep right now but you can visit” she smiles offering to guide them through the area.

“Thank you” Carlos’ cries pulling Max in for a hug, leaning agaisnt his shoulder before they follow the doctor through to your room.

You were asleep on the hospital bed, some wires and other medical tech strapped up to you and Max never thought he’d see you like this, he’s prayed you’d never ever be in this situation. He hated seeing you, looking so fragile and vulnerable.

Eventually your anesthetic wore off and you were woken up to voices lightly talking and rays of sun bursting through the window. The first thing you notice is how relaxed your body is. Not that you knew right now but the morphine you were on for pain was making you very woozy.

“Mmmmmm” you groan as you try to move.

“Hey baby” you hear lightly from next to you, your eyes fluttering open to meet your boyfriends.

“Hi Carlos” you smile soflty looking at him and the worried look on his face.

That’s when yourmind becomes a little less fuzzy and you realsise you are neither at home or in the hotel.

“You were in a car crash, you had us worried” you hear your brother admit.

“Mmmm Max?” you asklooking around the room seeing the various flowers and cards and noticing it was a hospital room.

“We’re here” he smiles coming to stand the other side of the bed.

“We’ll always be here for you” Carlos adds, holding your hand.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[withwritersblock]

Birthday

~Birthday by Katy Perry~

Author's Note: Requested sorta Summary: Y/N celebrates her birthday with Luke Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 2,453

“Are you sure it’s okay that I am spending my birthday at the lake house?” she asked him as she shifted her gaze towards him. He glanced towards her, away from the road for a brief second. A soft smile formed to his lips as he reached his hand over, interlocking their fingers.

“It was my idea, remember?” he expressed, a small chuckle fell from his lips. She dropped her head, a smirk formed to her lips. “I’m sorry your friends couldn’t make it,” he mumbled out, squeezing her hand. 

Her smirk faltered as she tilted her head to the side, looking towards Luke. He had his baseball hat on backwards as his frame was covered in a simple black t-shirt, with a pair of dark wash jeans. It was an outfit that he wore constantly. 

“It’s okay! Not everyone can afford plane tickets. I got my boy, that’s all that matters,” she said. Despite the words leaving her lips, she was sad. It was her twenty-first birthday and all she wanted to do was get drunk with her friends. Sure, she’s spent many years in college already doing that but doing it legally was definitely different. 

“Yes you do,” he mumbled as he pulled their interlocked hands towards his face. He pressed his lips against the back of her hand. “And I will absolutely make sure it will be great weekend,” he let out before he kissed her hand one more time. 

He had the whole weekend planned out. Her friends had asked him if he would help them with the surprise. They had lied about not being able to come to Michigan to celebrate. 

Today was Thursday and her friends were coming in Friday night. Her birthday was actually Saturday so it would be perfect for the whole plan to have them come into the house while Luke took Y/N out to dinner at a very fancy restaurant. She loves putting on floor length gown and going to fancy places. Since Luke would never say no to a gourmet meal or any meal for that matter.

He gave them a spare key to the lake house and they were planning on setting up an extravagant birthday celebration. 

“Thank you, my love,” she mumbled as she watched him turn down the street towards the Hughes lake house. 

Jack and Quinn were also showing up to help supervise the girls. And to also maybe flirt with her friends. But Luke spent multiple text messages saying things along the line of Don’t you think about sleeping with any of my girlfriend’s friends. Which the boys were never actually going to follow through with it but they loved messing with Luke.

“Hopefully the lake is not freezing,” Luke mumbled as he pulled into his parking spot. He threw the car into park as he quickly shifted his whole body towards her. She giggled as she slowly unbuckled her seatbelt. He excitedly smacked his hands onto her thigh. She giggled again as she met his gaze. 

“It’s going to be a great weekend,” he promised as he leaned towards her. He delicately took a hold of her chin. She nodded as a small pout fell onto her lips. He leaned closer to her, “Oh stop,” he mumbled before he leaned towards kissing her delicately. 

He pulled away, his hand still holding her chin in place. He watched her lips fall into a pout once more. He smiled softly, “What’s with this?” he asked, running his thumb across her bottom lip. 

“You stopped kissing me,” she said as she leaned towards him kissing him. He pulled away reluctantly a small chuckle leaving his throat.

“I meant before,” he whispered as he slowly glided his hand from her chin towards the base of her neck. 

“I’m happy to be here with you, I just wish my girls could’ve come too,” she mumbled as she met his gaze.

He nodded as he pulled his lips between his teeth. “I know,” he let out before he pressed his lips against her own. “Come on,” he whispered against her lips before he stepped out of the car. He quickly jogged around towards the passenger side of the car to open the car door for her. 

~

“This place is kinda creepy with just us,” Y/N mumbled as Luke ran his hands up and down her thighs. He rolled her eyes as she ran her hands across his exposed chest. He clenched his jaw as he scanned her frame, the red swimsuit was a color he’s never seen on her before. 

“It’s not creepy at all,” Luke offered as he continued running his hands up and down her thighs.

“We are alone on a boat in the center of a lake. This is the start of a horror movie,” she offered as she ran her fingertips across the curve of his abs. His body clenched under her touch. She leaned down towards him, “Do you think Michael Myers can swim?” she asked. 

He let out a sudden laugh as he tilted his head back. “I think-” he paused as he slowly began to glide his hands up her frame. “I have an idea to scare away any potential horror movie killers.”

“Oh yeah?” she offered as she leaned down and kissed him delicately. He tightened his grip along her hips. She let out a breathy laugh. “You do realize the first people to have sex in horror movies are the ones that die first,” she explained as she ran her hands through the ends of his hair. 

“What a way to go out,” he mumbled as he hungerily pressed his lips against hers. She gasped as she pulled away from him. 

“You are awful!” she let out with a giggle. He rolled his eyes with a teasing smirk. 

“You are beautiful,” he mumbled. She rolled her eyes as she leaned down, hovering her lips over his. 

~

The following night, the girls, Jack and Quinn were all inside the lake house setting up the night of her dreams. “I’ll be right back,” he mumbled as he ran his thumb across the top of her hand for a few seconds before he stood up from the table. She smiled towards him as she went back to finishing the chocolate cake in front of her. 

Luke walked towards the bathroom at the back of the restaurant. He pulled his phone towards his ear, hearing it ring a few times. “Lukey!” Jack shouted into the phone. Luke cringed as he pulled the phone away from his ear for a brief second.

“Is the place ready?” Luke asked, letting out a shaky breath.

“Yup, and your girlfriend’s friend, Ali-”

“Don’t fucking think about it,” Luke said in a hushed tone. An older gentleman walked out of the bathroom as he spoke. Luke forced a tight lip smile as he dropped his gaze towards the floor. “We’ll be leaving the restaurant in like fifteen minutes,” Luke expressed.

“Alright,” Jack mumbled as he hung up the phone. Luke let out a huff of air as he walked back towards their table. 

Luke sat down, “I’m sorry about that,” he let out as he met her gaze.

“You’re okay,” she mumbled as she brought her glass of water towards her lips. 

“How was the cake?” he asked, a wide smile on his lips. She tilted her head to the side as a small smile formed to her lips. 

“So good and so upset you made them sing to me!” she expressed dramatically. The waiter placed the check on the table and Luke quickly picked it up and placed his card inside of the black envelope. They both smiled polietly to the waiter as he walked away. 

“I didn’t make them do anything!” he let out while laughing, “I just casually mentioned that it was your birthday, they did the rest,” he smirked as he took a sip of his water. 

After another thirty minutes, they finally pulled up to the lake house. Quinn and Jack had parked a street away to make it look like the house was still empty. He pulled the car into park as he shifted his body towards her. She rolled her eyes playfully as she turned her gaze towards him.

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he whispered before he quickly jolted out of the car. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly before she watched him jog around the car. He pulled open her door. “Come on,” he mumbled. She stared towards him suspiciously as she slowly unbuckled her seatbelt. 

He held out his hand for her and she quickly took a hold of it. He guided her out of the car. He took a hold of her lower back as he guided her through the garage. She took a hold of his arm as he pushed open the door guiding her inside. 

Her eyes widened as she saw the balloons, streamers, and giant banner. The banner wrote Happy 21st Birthday, throw away your fake! She chuckled as she turned her gaze towards Luke as several voices shouted “Suprise!” She gasped as her eyes jumped around the room.

Her five closest friends were scattered throughout the living room, alongside Jack and Quinn. She covered her face with her hands as she felt tears fill her eyes. “You guys!” she let out. She pulled her hands away from her face as she looked towards Luke. “I thought you were bad at keeping secrets!” she said as she shoved him back. He chuckled as he delicately pushed her towards the crowd.

Y/N’s friends all circled her as she walked towards the center of the living room. Quinn and Jack walked towards Luke. “Girl this dress!” her friend, Olivia, said as she hugged her excitedly. “It is beautiful but you need to switch into your sexiest swimsuit because we are getting drunk as hell on that boat,” she expressed. 

“Okay, come on and help me pick it out!” she said as she started guiding the girls towards Luke’s room. Aly, Olivia, Jessie, Carley, and Penny all quickly followed after her. Aly was taking a hold of some of the dress to try and help her from tripping and falling onto her face.

After a few seconds all six of the girls entered the small bedroom. “How long have you guys kept this a secret?” Y/N asked as she lifted her suitcase up onto the bed.

“Since you asked us! We talked to Luke about it and he was all for this surprise plan,” Jessie explained. Y/N smiled softly as she pulled out four different swimsuits for the girls to help her decide. “We know that you really wanted us here and we all saved up to buy plane tickets to be here,” 

“You guys are amazing,” she let out as her voice cracked slightly. “This is going to be so fun,” she mumbled as she stared towards each of her friends individually. 

“You’re not upset we interrupted your weekend getaway with your man,” Aly asked while hip bumping Y/N. All of the girls burst out into laughter.

“Not at all,” she let out as she picked up the black bikini and decided on putting that one on. Each one of her friends approved, “Don’t worry, we had a great day yesterday,” she let out as she smirked. 

“Oh did you?” Carley mumbled, leading to every girl to start quietly oooooo. “What did you guys do?” Carley pressed. Y/N rolled her eyes as she pointed towards the back of her dress. Olivia quickly helped unzip the dress. 

“Hung out on the boat for a while,” she said trying to hide the smirk forming to her lips. 

Olivia’s eyes widened, “You guys didn’t,” she let out barely above a whisper. 

“I’m gonna go get my swimsuit on,” she said changing the subject as she walked towards the bathroom just outside of Luke’s room. 

“You dirty dog!” Olivia let out while laughing. 

~~~

It had been an hour since the whole surprise birthday weekend started and she was in fact three shots deep and two beers in. Quinn was driving the crowded boat, he was in the process of tossing Olivia and Jessie around on the tube hanging off the back of the boat.

Y/N was laying down at the back of the boat with Luke laying between her legs. His head rested just beneath her chest as he was humming along to the song playing on the speaker. 

She was running her fingers through his wet curly hair. “So you were surprised?” Luke asked as he tilted his head back. She smiled down towards him.

“I’m throughly impressed with your secret keeping skills,” she mumbled as she continued running her fingers through his hair. 

“I wanted you to have the best weekend,” he mumbled as he absentmindedly caressed the inside of her thighs.

“Thank you, my love,” she mumbled before she shifted her gaze towards Aly. 

“You going to get on the tube?” Aly asked her. She shook her head dramatically. “Oh come on, birthday girl, you have to,” she expressed before she took another sip of her cocktail.

“Not with how Quinn is driving this thing,” she mumbled. Quinn threw his head back as he laughed. Olivia and Jessie were climbing back into the boat. 

“I’ll go slower,” he offered. She still shook her head.

“Take another shot, and let’s go,” Aly mumbled as she took a hold of the vodka bottle. 

“No!” she let out while laughing. 

“Come on, baby, it’s fun,” Luke said as he tilted his head back, meeting her gaze. She clenched her jaw as she looked into Luke’s eyes. 

She let out a huff of air, “Fine, but I swear to god, Quinn, you try anything funny,” she threatened in what seemed like a joke but she wasn’t. He laughed as he leaned back in the chair. Luke sat up from his laying position, letting Y/N climb over him.

She groaned as she followed after Aly towards the back of the boat. Aly jumped into the water first. Y/N reluctantly jumped into the water. 

“Let’s go birthday girl!” Carley shouted as she watched Aly and Y/N climb onto the tube together.

“It’ll be fun,” Aly muttered as she tightened her grip on the tube. Quinn stood up, double-checking that they were both on the tube before he started driving the boat. Half of her friends had their phones out videoing. 

“Why did I agree to this?” Y/N asked as she tightened her grip. Quinn quickly turned the boat hard to the left. A squeal left both of their throats as they nearly fell off after the first spin. 

[mydarlingem]

ever since we met

guys we are SO BACK i bring gifts <3 didnt realize how much i would miss writing on here. currently working on rewriting old work and new stuff so i can get back to posting on a weekly basis. hope you have been well and enjoy!!

cw. sakusa kiyoomi eats pussy, what more could you need

wc. 1800

you met sakusa kiyoomi two years ago when he took over his father’s business. every monday and saturday at 4 pm, he knocked on the back door of your flower shop. big boxes filled with one the best flowers for you. it was also two years ago when you first opened the door for him that you realized you loved him. he was so sweet and kind, always taking time to ask about you and following up on events in your life. you figured he did this with everyone on his route. little did you know that your sweet kiyoomi did not ask questions about any of his other deliveries.

he was determined to get to know you, however long it took him. he knew the movies you saw, the terrible dates you went on, your favorite flowers and your least favorite customers. no detail was too small for him, because he did care about it all. he liked your passion for your work and your love for the people around you. ever since he knocked on that door monday at 4 pm two years ago he has loved you. he knows it crazy, and he can't rationalize it for the life of him but he knows it's the truth. he knows you probably don't reciprocate but god he can't help it.

“hey kiyoomi what did you bring for me today?” you say with a smiled as you prop open the door for him. the way you say his name makes him weak in the knees, he loves how comfortable you are around him. “besides my beautiful face, everything you had on your list and an extra case of snapdragons because i know you always run out by thursday.” he smiles at you and sets down the boxes. “you really are the best thank you” you say as you walk back over to the counter to continue cleaning roses. “how are you today my favorite florist?” he asks as he sets down the last three boxes in their designated spot. “busy and understaffed” you sigh. “glad to know things always stay the same around here” he smiles and hands you a clipboard for a signature.

he likes the way you sign your name, he can't explain it but it suits you. “you know you are the last delivery of the day, so is there anything i can do to help out?” he takes the clipboard back from you as you hold back from speaking for a moment. “i have so much to do are you sure?” you ask hoping it's not just pity. “i'm here for whatever you need” he says as he takes his hoodie off and sets his things down. you never realized how many tattoos he has, or how big his biceps were. maybe him staying was good for morale. “would mind cleaning some mums for me?” he nods and steps to the counter to start.

its quiet for a little, the silence isn't awkward though. you look over at him, he's so efficient. his hands are so perfect, how is he so perfect? his voice snaps you out of your trance. “how was that date you had last week?” he asks, not looking up from the flowers in his hands. “lets just say i won’t be seeing him again” you exhale softly, mentally pleading that the very attractive man across from you will not ask you to embarrass yourself further. kiyoomi laughs softly before speaking again, “i can't believe we have never hung out outside of work” he says as he continues to clean flowers. his heart was racing at this point, you made him so nervous he was hoping you couldn’t tell.

“i know it's so crazy! we have to do something soon” you say with a smile. “well what are you doing this weekend? there’s a new bar i want to check out and i’d love to take you.” “if i didn't know any better i would think you were asking me out on a date kiyoomi” you smile before looking up at him and making eye contact with him. “and what if i am?” he says still smiling, your cheeks were so hot, was he messing with you? “well i'd think you were joking” you say trying to control the tone of your voice. he sets his flowers down as he makes his way to the other side of the table where you stand with shaky hands.

“oh im dead serious pretty girl” he runs his hand along your jaw tilting your chin towards his face. he's smiling at you like you hung and the moon and stars just for him. hes so close all you can smell is his cologne, god did he always smell this good? you aren’t sure who leans in first but your lips touch and suddenly everything feels so right. hes holding your face in his hand but slowly becoming so desperate as he kisses you. the cold metal of his lip piercings feels so good against your lips. you can't seem to get enough of him and you wrap your arms around his neck. he taps your thighs as you wrap your legs around him, he gently sets you on the counter. he breaks away from the kiss breathless and rests his head against your shoulder “you're so perfect” he all but whimpers against the skin of your neck.

“i've wanted to kiss you for so long” you say as he kisses your neck, and you run your hands through his soft hair. he moans softly at the contact and lifts his head up to kiss you again. standing in between your thighs he wraps his hands around your waist, smiling into the kiss. he can't believe this moment is real, he can't believe he finally worked up the courage to to act on his feelings. the all too familiar jingle of the front door opening snaps the both of you out of your bliss. “fuck” you say as you hop off the counter, “hi ill be right there." you look back to kiyoomi “will you please stay i promise i'll be so quick”. he smiles “dont worry im not going anywhere sweetheart.” you smile and kiss him on the cheek before running off to the front.

this might be the happiest he’s ever been. you’re so soft and sweet and oh my god he loves how gentle you are with him. he loves the effect he has on you, in fact he may just never move from this spot in the hope that you kiss him like that again. “thank you have a great day” you chirp as your voice breaks him out of his trance. you appear into the doorway to the back of the door with a smile. “hi” you say as you make your way back over to him, “hi sweet girl” he wraps his arms around you again. “i close in about 30 minutes, will you come home with me?” you ask shocked by your own boldness. the way you are looking at him he thinks he might die. “god i'll be wherever you want me.” the effect you had on him was unreal. “let me drop off my truck and i'll be back in fifteen”, “be quick” you say as you twirl his hair with your fingers. have you always been this hot?

kiyoomi was convinced was losing his mind. he has never moved faster in his life. he doesn't even remember driving his motorcycle back to your shop. all he knew is that he was walking back into your shop with more determination than he's ever felt before. “hi handsome” you say as he drapes his body against yours. “almost done?” he asks as he kisses your cheek. “i have about fifteen minutes before i can go but i'm all done.” you turn to kiss him as he plays with the waistband of your jeans. the kiss is messy and hot, he felt weak in the knees. “i can think of a few things to pass the time” he says as he breaks away from the kiss.

you smile looking up at him, his face was flushed and you could help but be proud of the effect you had on him. “please let me eat you out” your jaw drops at his words. “here?” you ask and he grins “here” he says as he drops to his knees in front of you. you could finish from just looking at this beautiful large man on his knees in front of you. “god please” he's quick to unzip your pants and slide them down your legs. he places small kisses along your thighs as he moves to put your legs on his shoulders. he kisses you through your underwear and you whimper softly. sliding your underwear to the side he starts softly using his tongue, and puts a finger inside you as he continues.

you grip his hair and squeeze your thighs against his head as he quickened his pace. “harder” he whimpers into you and you squeeze harder. god his tongue piercing is incredible. you are getting close to finishing, and he can tell. he moans into you like this is pleasuring him just as much as it is you. “more kiyo” you moan out. he moves faster as he inserts another finger. the nickname could have made him cum in his pants. you are quickly approaching your high as you stutter out an “im close” he's moving faster than before, focused on you and only you. he's eating you out like a man starved, the cold metal of his piercing mixed with the warmth of his fingers had you seeing stars.

you moan his name as you finish and he cleans you up with his tongue. your legs were shaking as he stands up and licks the rest of you off of his slender fingers. “you're so incredible” you say as you wrap your arms around him and kiss him, the taste of you still on his tongue. “i've been dying to do that for two years” he says as he pulls away from you. “i love you kiyoomi” you say looking him in the eyes, "i've been dying to tell you that for two years" mustering the courage to confess everything to him. “god i love you” he says cupping your face in his hands as he kisses you again. “i love you i love you i love you” he says softly in between kisses. "ill spend forever making you feel it."

[venusmage]

Commission/Life update for 2024

EDIT 9/16/24

As of now I've resolved around 15 commissions since this post was made at the start of June! This is much faster than I was going the past year. They're going well and I thank everyone again who has been so patient and kind. I've gotten nothing but kindness as a response to the wait, even from those who have been waiting for over a year by now. Thank you.

I recently started two new jobs and school again, so I'm a little busy. BUT everyone is (albeit not at a super fast speed) moving up in queue! Once the owed "Full" commissions are done, I expect to get through Sketch Coms even faster and currently I'm at a good pace to be done by the end of the year.

The best days to reach me are Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays at the moment. Otherwise it might take me a day or so to get back to you. I work on my own projects on the weekends to preserve my sanity, lol! Just know if I'm drawing something else, I haven't forgotten my queue!

------

Original post:

Just want everyone to know I AM okay now and life has gotten better recently. However the past year and a half have been extremely difficult and I'm only now getting back on my feet. I generally don't like sharing life details publicly, but as a freelancer with clients that have been waiting for a while I feel like transparency is key.

If you don't want an explanation for the delays and just want to know my completion timeline, that's totally okay. Here is all the info up front. I'm going to continue updating my commission queue as usual and will not be accepting any more orders until ALL of the queue is completed. I'm working on finishing the half and full bodies first since they've been the longest waiting in queue. Then the rest. I don't have a set date in mind for when they'll be all done for good but the goal is by the end of the year. I think that's more than doable for me now. If you're a client of mine and have questions/concerns, please message me either here or on Discord and I'll do my best to help you. My username on discord is the same as my Tumblr username. Twitter and Ko-Fi are also options but I don't check them as frequently. I usually work Monday-Thursday so that will be the best time to shoot me a message or expect an update to the queue.

Information on what's been going on is below.

CW for mentions of death, financial hardship and homophobia.

As a few of you might remember, in 2019 I was disowned by my mother for being a lesbian. I made the choice to go no-contact. Since then, up until LAST YEAR, she's routinely harassed me or had other family harass me, stalked me on social media, tried to get to me through the website I take commission orders, and threatened me multiple times. I was forced to move across the country both because I felt unsafe and because my partner had family elsewhere that were more accepting. I've had to change my phone number twice.

It's been extremely difficult both financially and mentally to keep my head above water. In 2021 my grandfather died and I still haven't felt like I've been able to properly grieve. I wasn't able to see him due to her and I wasn't invited to his funeral. We were very close and he meant the world to me. In 2023 my grandmother passed away very suddenly as well, and my mother used it as an excuse to harass me over ko-fi/my professional email. It was such a horrific experience that I fell into a months long spiral that I only just now feel like I'm climbing out of. This is when commissions first stalled. I was also starting to get overwhelmed, as I had to take on more work than I could realistically handle in order to pay bills and rent. That's really it - I just had to take more orders so we weren't kicked out of our apartment, and as my mental state deteriorated I couldn't keep up.

The good news is that my wife and moved earlier this year we're living with supportive(!) family now and our financial burden is much lighter. This gives me time to work on my backlog without re-opening. I'm also going to school again, back in college starting this summer for a second degree. For my own health after commissions are finished I'm likely going to take a break on opening them for a good while, even though I really enjoy doing them.

In the past two months amazing and not-amazing things have happened. The amazing thing is I got an ADHD diagnosis, something I didn't even know had been ruining my life for years. I'm still getting used to the proper medications but I'm already seeing a big improvement. It's as much of a relief as it is frustrating. My mother also reared her head again (like she usually does at least once a year) - this time, though, I learned she'd had a stroke. While I'm not involved with her anymore, I think most people could understand how it would still be a very weird and upsetting situation. As of right now I'm free of her once again, she seems to be making a good recovery and will hopefully continue to live a happy life far away from me. Still, those two things back to back have been a LOT to deal with on top of just trying to get better in general. I stepped away from the internet for a while for my own sanity.

The downside to being a freelancer is that there's not always a safety net. That's what happened to me. Thank you all very much for being kind and patient, I genuinely have had nothing but polite interactions with all of you and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry my personal bullshit got in the way of getting my work done for you. This is the longest I've ever taken to complete commissions and it's something that I'm deeply ashamed of. I promise they will get done. Being medicated and starting to recover from the family drama has revitalized me a bit. If you have any questions or concerns please reach out.

[tropes-and-tales]

🤮 FINALLY

Day 9:  Exhibitionism (Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Light angst, kinda; idiots in love; enemies to lovers but not really; smut (fingering; exhibitionism; PiV, unprotected); 18+ only.

Word Count:  5553

AN:  This was requested by @elegantmusicdragon!

The cabin is small:  it only has two bedrooms.  The Miller brothers claim the loft bedroom on the second floor, the steep eaves of the roof leaving barely enough room for Will and Ben.  Pope, as the group’s resident planner, helps himself to the slightly larger bedroom on the first floor.

It leaves you and Frankie in the living room.  There’s a lumpy couch; there’s a thin, rolled-up mattress for the floor.

There’s also a fair amount of antagonism between the two of you.  It’s not complete hatred:  it’s love-hate, maybe.  Begrudging respect.  Admiration, but only if someone put a gun to your head and made you admit it.

You just irritate each other.  Too similar in some ways, too different in others.  Polar opposites in some aspects, the same person in others.  It’s been the same as long as you’ve known each other:  there’s a low-simmering annoyance with each other that eventually blows up in a fight, then cools off in a period of niceness until it cedes back to annoyance.  It’s been that way for as long as you’ve known each other—for years.

The hooking up is new.

The hooking up is so new the guys don’t know about it.  You haven’t been hooking up long enough to get caught.  Hell, it’s so new that even the two of you can barely fathom it.  Each time a dalliance ends, you both have the same stunned, sheepish expression, like neither of you can believe it happened.

But it keeps happening:  Frankie shows up at your door in the middle of the night.  You turn up on his porch on a Sunday afternoon.  You call each other; the other comes over eagerly enough.  The two of you sneak off at a group hang-out, and you reappear long moments later to the larger group one at a time, flustered or overcompensating by being too casual.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you told him the last time you hooked up.

“Obviously not,” he agreed.  “This is insane.”

Neither of you really meant it.

-----

The cabin is a thing Pope is trying to do.  It’s a tradition he wants to start in the wake of Tom’s death.  A way to keep everyone together, even if just for a long weekend every fall:  the gang may drift apart, but they can reassemble once a year at least, for good food and drink and sitting around the campfire.

Thursday, and everyone rolls into the rental property where the cabin is perched along the shore of a lake.  The Miller brothers turn up together; Frankie comes alone.  You catch a ride with Pope since he flew into your hometown.

Thursday, and it’s just take-out pizza and beer from the nearby village.  It’s stocking the cabin with provisions, unpacking, settling in, claiming where you’ll each sleep for the weekend.  Pope builds a fire in the massive fire pit outside just as the sun is setting, and Frankie feels a calm settle over his nerves.  He’s been clean now for over a year, but the cravings come and go.  He glances across from him and studies where you sit between Will and Pope:  the firelight casts you in an orange light, throws your features in sharp relief where shadows fall.  You’re quiet tonight—maybe your nerves are bad too.  Frankie knows you have your own anxieties.

Thursday, and when it’s time to turn in, you don’t even bother to fight Frankie for the mattress on the floor.  You take the lumpy couch, and you fall off to sleep within minutes, leaving Frankie to lie awake with his own thoughts for a long while.

-----

Friday, and everyone is back in their groove with each other.  There’s the usual laughter, the usual ribbing.  Pope knocks Frankie’s hat off his head.  Ben feigns a series of punches at Pope.  Will wraps his arm around your waist and spins you until you slap at his arm and shriek for him to release you.  It’s easy and familiar, like slipping into a faded old t-shirt washed to velvety softness.

Pope organizes a hike to the summit of a nearby mountain.  The weather is so crisp and the air so clean it hurts Frankie’s sinuses to breathe.  At the summit, the views are spectacular, stretching for miles in all directions, the hills and dales and low-slung mountains of this patch of Appalachia.  Frankie is reminded that not everything is so complicated:  there are swaths of wilderness where life is simple, where his problems seem small and inconsequential. 

You all settle on a flat stretch of rock and eat lunch, sandwiches and apples from a farmstand in town that you packed in for the hike.  Frankie watches you peel out of your boots and socks and stretch your bare feet against the sun-warmed rock.  The conversation flows naturally; everyone shares their latest life updates, their hopes for the near-future. 

If Tom is with you, his ghost rests lightly between the five of you.

On the hike back, there’s a tricky stretch of the trail, a switchback that was easier to climb up than it is to climb down.  Frankie is behind you, taking up the rear, and he loses the rhythm of his hiking cadence when you suddenly balk.  He pulls up just in time to not run into you.

“C’mon,” he grumbles, exasperated.  With Pope at the head of the group, Frankie has just been on auto-pilot, his feet leading him forward, but now he’s been yanked out of his reverie by your sudden stopping.

“Ground’s covered in scree,” you reply.  Frankie watches as you take a tentative step forward, reach out a steadying hand along the outcropping of rock.  You do this sometimes, he knows—you have sudden moments of freezing up, afraid to fall, afraid to stumble and jam up a wrist or twist an ankle.  Frankie watches in exasperation as you suddenly transform from an assured hiker to a bumbling newborn foal, all shaky legged and trembling hands.

“C’mon,” he repeats.  “Move.”

“Don’t rush me.”  The words come out tense, pushed out between clenched teeth.  You hate being weak, sure, but you hate being weak in front of others—especially Frankie.

“Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not.”  You take another careful step forward, your toe knocking some of the scree loose. 

“It’s not even that steep here.”

“I’m going as fast as I feel comfortable.”  You turn your head, glance at him, and Frankie sees the animal panic in your wide, unblinking eyes, your nostrils flaring as you take shallow breaths.  “Go around if you have to.”

He doesn’t have to go around you but he does.  He heaves a sigh, edges around you on the trail, and he doesn’t miss the quiet little whimper of fear as you press yourself against the face of the mountain to make room for him.  He doesn’t glance back to see that you’re fully frozen now, not moving at all—until Ben notices and reverses back to rescue you.

“Overthinking it?” he asks.  Frankie can’t make out your reply, but it makes Ben chuckle, then add, “well, let’s get you off this part then, yeah?”

Friday, and Frankie learns that there’s an ugly streak of jealousy in him.  Ben manages to peel you off of the mountain face with gentle teasing and good humor, and Ben is the one to wipe away the couple of shaky tears that squeezed out during your crisis of courage.  The group rearranges itself:  Pope then Will, then Frankie, and you and Ben at the rear, and Frankie seethes the rest of the hike back to hear the two of you joking and teasing.

Friday, and Frankie learns that he can be jealous over you.  He’s quiet over dinner as he turns over this new intel about himself. 

Friday, and when it’s time to turn in, you take the couch again.  Frankie lies awake and watches you in the faint silvery moonlight streaming in through the curtains, and he berates himself for letting Ben step in where he could have intervened.  Frankie could have been kinder, could have helped you.  You’ve never been cruel to him about his own struggles.  A little episode of panic on a low-stakes hike would have cost him nothing in terms of kindness.

Frankie does something he’s never done before with you.

“Hey,” he whispers.  “You awake?”

You huff out heavy breath, a low groan.  “I am now.”

A long stretch of silence passes.  Frankie can’t quite get the words out; his tongue feels like it’s glued to the roof of his mouth.  Enough time passes that you sigh again, roll over on the squeaky couch.

“Sorry,” he manages to mutter.  It comes out gruffer than he’d like, more mean-sounding. 

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry.”  Now he sounds defensive, a bit petulant.

“Oh.”  A beat, then, “for what?”

He rolls over on the mattress and faces where you lie feet apart from him, slightly higher than him on the couch.  “For being a dick on the hike.”

“Ah.”

There’s another long beat of silence, and then the room lights up as you turn your phone on.  He hears you tapping on it, and he asks what you’re doing.

“Just marking the date and time.  Latitude and longitude.”  In the white light cast across your face, Frankie can see your smirk.  “Need to know where to put the memorial plaque when the time comes.”

“Huh?”

“You know.”  You lock your phone and toss it aside, and Frankie hears you roll over to face him.  In the scant light from the moon, he can just make out your face, still smirking.  “The commemorative plaque.  On this place and on such-and-such date, Francisco Morales offered the first apology in his life.”

Frankie bristles.  “Funny, but I’ve apologized lots of times before.”  He thinks of his ex-wife, his mother, Tom’s wife.  He’s apologized plenty:  for his bad behavior, for his poor choices, for all the ways he’s lacked as a son or a husband or a teammate.

“Not to me you haven’t.”

“Bullshit.”  He rolls onto his back and stares up at the rough-hewn boards of the cabin’s ceiling.  “I probably have.”

“Bullshit,” you retort.  “You haven’t.”

“Well now I have, and I damned well regret it.”

You laugh softly, but it doesn’t have its usual bitter edge to it.  You don’t add anything for so long that Frankie’s eyelids start to get heavy, but just as sleep starts to lap around his ankles, he hears you say, far softer than before, “I appreciate it, Fish.”

Friday, then:  Frankie learns he has a jealous streak for you, and he learns that he can feel ashamed of how he sometimes treats you.  Both revelations pale in comparison to how he feels to own up to his less-than-stellar behavior…and how he feels when you accept his apology rather than retaliate with your own less-than-stellar behavior.

-----

Saturday, and the day starts promising:  sun in the blue sky, bird song, the wind rustling through the leaves.  Storm clouds gather after noon, low and fast-moving, blotting out the sky, and the evening turns into a torrential storm.

You and Pope go into town to pick up more beer, a bottle of wine for dinner.  Frankie and the Miller boys stay behind.  Ben gets a headache and goes to nap it off, which leaves Frankie and Will alone on the cabin’s porch, watching the rain disturb the mirror surface of the lake as they nurse a couple of longnecks.

“Good to have everyone here,” Will offers after a while.

Frankie grunts in agreement.  He doesn’t mention Tom, and neither does Will.

Will handles the bulk of the conversation, which is really just gossip about you and Pope and Ben since you’re all absent.  It doesn’t come across as especially catty, though, since Will spins everything in his motivational lingo.

Then Will touches on you and Frankie’s rocky relationship.  He takes a sip from his bottle and gives Frankie a sidelong glance, says, “heard the two of you talking last night.  Surprised it didn’t end in yelling.”

Frankie snorts and takes a drink of his own beer.  “First time for everything.”  He shakes his head, rueful, and adds, “we’ve just never got along.  You know that.”

Will nods in that irritatingly sage way he has now.  “Well, you’re both crabs.”

“She makes me crabby.  I’m usually fine otherwise.”

The man chuckles and shake his head.  “Nah, I mean you’re both crabs.  You’ve both got tough shells.  Even if you could get out of your own shell, you’d have to get past hers and vice versa.  Double walls up, whatever you want to call it.  Makes it tough to connect.”

Frankie bites back the obvious response:  that you and he connect plenty, in a carnal way, and that Will’s dumb analogy would crumble the moment Frankie mentions that the two of you fuck often, and that you don’t have a tough shell when he’s balls deep in you.  Instead, he snorts again and says, “okay,” heavy on the sarcasm.

“The problem with a crab’s shell though,” Will adds in that faux-wise tone of his, “is that if you don’t shed them once in a while you can never grow.”

Frankie almost wishes you were here to hear this bullshit too.  You’re irritating, but as a fellow crab, you’d tell Will to fuck off, to go play shrink with someone else.

-----

You and Pope return, and the two of you handle dinner together.  Pope sears the steaks on the grill outside; you make fresh pasta and sauté late-season vegetables.  Ben is pulled from the loft bedroom by the scent of the food, headache gone, and everyone circles up around the table to eat and drink. 

The fire snaps in the fireplace and the rain drums against the roof, and Frankie hasn’t felt so relaxed since South America and the scramble over the Andes that ultimately claimed Tom’s life.  He glances around the table, and it occurs to him that aside from his parents, the people he loves best in the world are all right here with him.  Even you, he supposes.

He lets the good food and drink and warmth of the fire work against his anxiety.  He feels the snarls and tangles of his tight muscles—those perpetually tense shoulders hiked up near his ears—unlock.  He feels all those bad feelings, the constant self-doubt and low-level depression ebb into the distance.  He is lulled into a drowsy state as he eats, as he sips at his wine, and he rejoins the conversation in process and finds himself jolted by its subject.

It's Pope needling you, and the man is clearly picking up a thread from earlier between the two of you.  He’s asking you about some guy, some guy named Paolo, and Frankie feels an uncomfortable prickle along the back of his neck.

“Just call him sometime,” Pope tells you.  “Grab a coffee or something.”

“Nah, Santi.”  You push a bite of steak around your plate and don’t look up.  “I don’t think so.”

“I think the two of you would get along.”

“I’m not really interested.”

“Why not?” Will interjects, catching up faster than Frankie.  Then to Pope, “you trying to set her up?”

Pope nods at Will’s question as you shrug and mumble something about being out of the dating game for too long, and Frankie stares at you, wills you to look up at him, but you don’t.

“Which is why this is perfect,” Pope replies.  “Paolo is coming out of a long-term thing.  He needs a gentle reintroduction to dating too.  C’mon…what would lunch hurt?  Or dinner?”

“You should think about it,” Will adds.  He glances over at Frankie, catches his eye.  “Might help for you to get out of your shell.”

You laugh at that.  “I think I’m good, William, but thanks.”

Then Ben gets in on it, Ben and Will and Pope cajoling you into dating this Paolo guy.  The Millers point out your paltry dating history, your lack of serious relationships—you’ve never even lived with a guy, let alone edged up against an engagement or marriage.  Pope tells you about Paolo, some coworker in his contracting work with a failed marriage, something about cheating, the man is hurting, blah blah.  Frankie is shocked to find that his jealous streak isn’t just wide but deep—it feels like a bone-deep ache, a cold searing in his gut as the guys egg you on, try to convince you to just meet the dude.

“What do you say, Fish?” Pope asks, and Frankie glances up and finds your eyes settled on him.  There’s a question there, but Frankie can’t see beyond his own tough exterior to know what it is.

“Sure,” he replies with a shrug he hopes looks nonchalant.  “I’m sure this Paolo guy would love to be disappointed by you.”

Which earns him a punch in the shoulder from Ben, who’s sitting beside him, and rolled eyes from Pope, and a disappointed tsk-ing from Will.

Frankie doesn’t see how his barb lands with you, though.  As soon as he launches it, he looks away, looks down at his plate, so he can’t see if you are hurt or not by him.

But he hears your reply to Pope.  He hears you say, “you know what?  Sure.  Give him my number.  I don’t have any better prospects.”

-----

The rest of the evening is a blur.  There’s a robust game of poker, low stakes, and the beer flows steady as the conversation.

Frankie goes mute, only mumbles out monosyllabic answers when the conversation turns to him.  His thoughts turn maudlin.

He always felt a step ahead of the guys.  More mature.  More of a man.  Him and Tom, both:  making the adult choice to marry instead of drifting around in the chaos of the post-army bachelor life.  Where Pope and the Millers lived in bland beige apartment complexes, strung together short-term relationships and hook-ups, Frankie had a house with a wife.  He felt a smug satisfaction when he’d meet up with the guys back then, like he and Tom were the sage elder statemen of the group.

You had been there too, of course, but it was different with you.  Back then, Frankie used to compare you against his wife—you were the other woman in his life, so you were a handy comparison to his wife, Sophia.  You were prickly where Soph was sweet.  Opinionated where Soph wasn’t.  When Frankie held the two of you up, it made Sophie shine brighter.

But now hindsight is twenty-twenty.  Because Frankie always compared the two of you, he can’t help but craft an alternate universe where a marriage to you had faltered and then fell apart.  With Soph, it had been ugly:  she never spoke up, never held him to account for his increasingly bad behavior as his addiction took hold.  She merely left one day—Frankie came home to an empty house and instructions to not reach out to her, that her lawyer would be in touch.

You’re the one who had confronted Frankie.  You’re the one who arranged for the intervention, who chased him when he stormed out, who grabbed him by the arm and shook him, told him he had to get his shit together and get help.  You’re the one who handled everything:  packing his bag, getting him on the plane to the rehab.  You found him a place for when he got out, you and Pope salvaging as much as you could from his marital home before it was sold as part of the divorce.

And now he’s back to square one, but even more so.  He’s divorced.  He’s a recovering addict.  He’s got a bad back and a suspended pilot’s license.  He’s nobody’s bargain, as the song goes, but he wonders how much his low mood right now is linked to you.  Pope and the Millers talk you up, gas you up for this date with Pope’s buddy, and Frankie feels worse and worse the more he realizes you may slip away from him. 

It's a startling revelation that he even cares.  If asked, he’d lie and say he doesn’t, that you can date whoever you want, move away to wherever.  That if he never sees you again, he’ll be perfectly okay, because the two of you have never gotten along and the hooking up has just been two bored, lonely people mutually using each other.

But he remembers a million little moments of you being…not kind, maybe.  You’re prickly with your kindness, you sigh and roll your eyes when you do nice things for him, but you’re the one who started him on the path of recovery.  You’re the one who stood in front of him at Tom’s wake and told him in a low voice that it wasn’t his fault, it was no one’s fault but Tom’s own greed.

Hell, he bets you’ve even taken the couch this whole time in the cabin because of his bad back.

Frankie feels like he’s close to some world-altering revelation, but it’s just beyond his grasp.  Instead, he just stews:  his memories circle around his failed marriage, how he was never further ahead than the guys after all.  His memories shift to you then, circle around you:  the most irritating person he’s ever known, yet the one who probably saved his life.  The frustrating woman who has had his back for years, who squabbles with him and argues with him and (lately) has been fucking him with equal aplomb.

-----

When everyone turns in for the night, Frankie waits a long while before he hisses out your name.  You don’t sigh or groan like he’s woken you up; you answer him by saying his name back with a questioning lilt.

“You can take the mattress if you want,” he whispers.  “If the couch is uncomfortable.”

“It is, but I’m fine.”  A beat, and you confirm his suspicion by adding, “your back.”

“Mattress is wide enough for both of us.”

He hears your quiet snort of laughter.  “Nice try, Fish.”

“What?”

“You know what.  If I lie down with you, you’ll get all handsy.”

Frankie smiles in the darkness.  “You don’t mind my hands usually.”

Some spring deep in the couch squeals as you roll over.  “We said we weren’t doing that anymore.”

“We say that every time,” Frankie points out.  “And then you call me at two in the morning because you need it so bad.”

You snort.  “I never need it.”  You’re silent for a long moment, then add, “and anyway, I’m actually looking forward to meeting Pope’s friend.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious.”  Your voice does lose its snarky, insouciant tone—you sound uncharacteristically somber.  “I need to get my shit together.  I’m tired of being alone all the time.”

That stings Frankie a little, like all those moments with him don’t count, even though he knows they don’t.  You’re talking about being alone, all those times you need someone to talk to or cuddle up with or just be with.  Frankie and your hooking up isn’t any of that; it’s a lone moment of physicality without any of the intimacy.

“And you think Paolo is the one then?” he asks, and the name Paolo drips with disdain that he doesn’t bother to hide.  You hear it, too.

“You sound jealous, Fish.”

“’m not.”

“Because I thought I was just gonna disappoint him anyway, so why would you be jealous?”

“Said I’m not.”  He’s not jealous.  He isn’t.  The bloom of hot acid in his gut is something else entirely.  Maybe Pope didn’t cook the steaks thoroughly enough.  Maybe it was too much red wine.

Now your voice turns faux-casual, conversational, like you’re just gabbing with a girlfriend.  “Do you think Paolo is hot?” you ask. 

“Probably looks like a troll doll.”

“I bet he’s big.  Huge.”

“Gross.”

“Bet he’s slinging a real hog around.”

Frankie scoffs.  “Pope said he’s divorced because his wife cheated on him.  He’s probably tiny.”

“Ooooh, you’re definitely jealous.”  Another rustling of your blankets, and then Frankie feels it—your bare foot reaching down and out to where he lays, your cold toes kicking him lightly in the side.  He swats at you, but you pull your foot back at the last minute with a laugh.

“Fuck off,” he grits out.  “I’m not.”

Another playful kick that clips him in the shoulder.  “Aw, Fish, did you fall for me?  Are you in love?  Are you—”

He’s quicker this time, and he catches your foot, catches his hand around your ankle and tugs you towards him.  You squeal; he gets you halfway off the couch but not entirely and there’s a moment of tug-of-war.  Frankie doesn’t release your ankle, and you try to break his hold, but Frankie (who knows how strong you are, how good you are at self-defense) doesn’t think you really fight him that hard.

Instead, you let him pull you the rest of the way onto the floor.  You let him tug you across the short span between the couch and the mattress, and he’d smirk and gloat at how willingly you come to him, but within a second you are beside him.  You smell smoky, like the snapping wood fire of the evening has burrowed into your hair, and you smell like the wet, washed-clean earth and loam, and you smell like the slightly-metallic water of the lake, and Frankie’s mouth finds yours, seals over yours, steals away any other teasing or arguing you may do.

Part of him hates how well the two of you fit together.  For as much as you squabble and irritate each other, in these moments, you are perfectly in line with each other.  On the same wavelength.  Frankie kisses you deeply, tastes you beyond the mint of your toothpaste, and he still—even after all these moments, all these stolen interludes—gets a fluttery swoop in his gut when you slide your tongue against his.

He maneuvers you underneath him and you go willingly.  Eagerly.  He wishes sometimes he could read your mind.  He wonders what you’re thinking in these moments.  Have you been lying beside him the past few nights, wanting this to happen?  Or are you only riled up and slick to his searching fingers because of the idea of this Paolo, a man who could theoretically assuage your loneliness?

The thought makes that deep streak of jealousy pulse inside him, so he breaks the kiss as his fingers slide into you.  He feels how wet you are, always wet and hot for him, and he hisses into your ear, “this for me?”

“Fuck off, Fish.”  You whisper it back, and in the wan moonlight, Frankie can see you glaring up at him. 

He pulls his finger out, adds a second, pushes both into you.  He catches how your eyelids flutter, how your lips part at the stretch of his digits.  He studies your face as he pulls out, pushes back in a handful of times.

“Tell me,” he demands.  He keeps his voice low, aware that the Millers are asleep in the loft above you and Pope is asleep in the bedroom just beyond the small galley kitchen.

“I said fuck off.”  You enunciate the fuck clearly, catch your lower lip between your teeth as you hiss out the eff.  As guilty as Frankie feels to compare you to his ex-wife, the differences are never more stark than here:  Sophie had been completely soft, completely submissive in the bedroom, never quite willing to do more than a handful of positions or situations.  Fucking you is like wrestling a wild cat sometimes, and you make him work for it, and Frankie kinda loves it.

He clucks his tongue in mock sympathy.  He pushes his two fingers into you as deep as he can, then crooks them inside you, strokes your inner wall until you gasp underneath him.

“There it is,” he croons.  He dips his head, drags the slick muscle of his tongue along your pulse point where your heartbeat jumps and thunders away.  “Knew I’d find it.”

“Fish—”

“Always find it.”  He moves his thumb, presses it lightly against your swollen clit.  “Pope’s dumb fucking buddy could never.”

You laugh but it’s breathless as he works his hand against you.  You tangle a hand in his hair and tug against him, steer his head back to you.

“Knew you were jealous, you asshole,” you whisper.  You surge forward and nip at the side of his neck, and he bites back his own groan, hushes you, reminds you that the guys are nearby and you have to be quiet.

Frankie reaches down and shoves his sweatpants down enough to free his aching cock, and he doesn’t even bother to get you out of your sleep shorts.  He only shoves them to the side and then removes his hand, guides his cock to replace his fingers.  He hears the low groan you give at the contact, so he reaches up a hand and covers your mouth and pushes into you in one firm, deep thrust.  His hand absorbs your moan as he mounts you, but he looses his own groan to be back inside your clenching heat.  You both freeze for a long moment—his cock twitching inside you, your cunt bearing down on him—but none of the guys make a noise, so you proceed as quietly as you can.

You’re not nearly quiet enough.

*****

Pope is woken by the sound of a thump, like a body hitting the floor. 

That’s exactly what it is:  Frankie yanking you off of the couch, and just as Pope starts to wake up, starts to swing around and put his feet on the floor, he hears a moan.

Ben sleeps like the dead and hears nothing:  not you and Frankie squabbling in whispers, not you and Frankie fucking, and not the furious clicking of Will in the other bed, texting back and forth with Pope.  He’s only woken up later.

Will hears everything.  He never fell asleep at all, only drowsed a bit, so he heard you and Frankie talking down below.

Then he hears the same thump as Pope, then the same moan.

His first thought is that Frankie has made you cry, that Frankie has said something mean enough to break that tough dam that holds back your emotions.  But then he hears a gasp (yours), a low chuckle (Frankie’s) and he realizes what he’s hearing.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out.  “No way.”

His cell phone, silenced, lights up with a message.  Will unlocks it and sees that it is Pope.

Please tell me I’m not hearing what I think I’m hearing, the text reads.

Will responds.  Not sure, he types.

Pope:  You got eyes on them???

Will:  No way

Pope:  Sounds like she’s crying. Need confirmation.

Will:  NO

Pope:  Ur in the loft.  Confirm.

Will sighs, mutters “fuck.”  It does sound like you’re crying and trying to hide it, breathy, bitten-back moans that could be crying or could be…you and Frankie fucking.

The former seems unlikely.  Will’s never seen you cry, and he thinks he’s only heard you once—a similar gasping sound, through a flimsy motel room wall in Central America as you made your way back to the States with Tom’s body.

The latter—the thought of you and Frankie fucking—seems even more unlikely.  Yet when he freezes, when he holds his own breath so long he hears his heart beating in his ears, Will swears he can hear the quiet rustling of fabric, heavy breathing that sounds more like Frankie.

He moves as slow as if he were on a mission.  He turns around on the trundle bed and crawls to the edge of it, a millimeter at a time.  He reaches the open doorway of the loft; there is no door, and it looks down at the first floor, and when he peers over the railing, he sees the two of you awash in silvery moonlight.

Frankie, on top of you.  Your knees on either side of Frankie’s hips, one hand gripping his curls at the nape of his neck, the other hand reaching down and grasping his ass, guiding him where he fucks into you in slow, deep strokes.

Will doesn’t know why he never saw it before.  This can’t be the first time between you—you move too well together.  The two of you have always grated against each other, but no one ever really thought it was hatred.  You and Frankie love each other in your own way, Will guesses, and maybe this is just a facet of that.

You helping Frankie get clean:  another facet of that love.

Frankie going silent at the thought of you dating Pope’s work buddy:  another facet of that love, perhaps?

Will retreats just as slowly.  He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, though he thinks he’ll need therapy to erase the vision of the two of you fucking from his mind.  He climbs back into bed carefully, then texts Pope.

She’s not crying, he types out. 

She’s not??? Pope replies.

Yeah, dude, Will types.  She and Fish are fucking.

Pope responds with a puking emoji first, but then he adds, FINALLY.

[octuscle]

Hey Cronivac Support,

I dont trust myself with the settings so i am asking you. I am Half German and half Moroccan, and I look German af. Brown hair, brown eyes, big smile and a really white skin. I am thinking what would happen if my appearance were based on my Moroccan genes.

Can you help me out?

Brother, chill out! Have a shisha. Just ignore that there's German shit in your body. Your dick is circumcised. You pray at least once or twice a day. Friday you also go to the mosque… It doesn't matter if there are still German genes in you.

Thursday morning. You will survive the last school year at the Gymnasium. What comes after that, you don't know yet. Something with languages might make sense. Your mother tongues are Arabic, German and French. And you are actually quite good in English and Spanish at school. But you also enjoy science. First lesson today is chemistry. Stoichiometry. Actually very interesting. But somehow you have more and more problems to understand your teacher. When he approaches you, you start to stammer. You can't think of the right words. "Youssef, you are welcome to answer in English, if that is easier for you." You sigh in relief. German is really a difficult language. And even though you have a German grandmother, German was never spoken much at home….

During the break, you hang out with your brothers. Talk about soccer, cars, the usual stuff. Smoke an e-cigarette to go with it. And you make an appointment for the afternoon at the gym. Then it's off to the workshop at the vocational school. Metalwork. Hey, you're not training to be a car mechanic so you can mill toys out of metal plates. You want to become a car tuner. And create really hot cars. Your vocational school teacher is from Syria. Fled a few years ago. He speaks much better German than you do. You've only been in Europe for two years. Your mother had the French and the Moroccan passport, so you could immigrate relatively easily. But you didn't understand why you had to move to Germany. Some of your pals now live in Marseille. You would have found that cool, too… But Stuttgart? Just because your father found a good job as an engineer here at Mercedes? Anyway, you're a fighter, you'll survive Swabia.

Lunch is at the snack bar of a former colleague of your father. He has saved up enough money on the assembly line for his own snack bar. And now he makes the best falaffels in town. On weekends, you help out a little. You can always use the extra money. And that way you also get the food cheaper. Since you've been in training, you no longer get pocket money from your parents. You are the eldest son, you now have to do your share to feed the family. And if you are the first to have a vocational qualification here, your chances of getting a permanent right to stay are also the best. If only it weren't for this terrible language…

Gym, auto repair shop, vocational school, Gym…. Your daily routine is somehow always the same. Your boss is also a Muslim, from Turkey, so you have tomorrow afternoon off to go to the mosque. But you also have to work on Saturday. But you are grateful that you have the job. And you can afford your car and the gym. It was not easy to come to Europe. It cost your parents almost all their savings. And now it's your damn duty to succeed and support your family. For that you learn to be a car mechanic, for that you sell falaffel on weekends. That's why you mop the gym floors and clean the toilets at night. You even study German for that. However, this has already brought you a few thousand followers. Your picture from the last workout has 800 likes after just half an hour. Let's see, maybe new opportunities to become rich and famous will develop. You have the right gene pool!

Pic of your latest workout found @tufas

[junhuiste]

experi-meant to be ⋆ park wonbin

pairing: wonbin x gn reader

tags/warnings: fluff, cursing, college au, laboratory environment, one mention of baking, 1600 words

a/n: i meant to publish this on valentine’s day since i had lab that day but i never finished it lol. there’s some microbio lab procedure jargon so like this is what streaking plates is if you want a visual lmfaoao. this is my first published work in like three years it feels weird haha + i might change my layout/header for fics but for now i’ll keep the same layout i've had for past fics

wonbin believes U are the uracil to his adenine—you should always be paired together.

| seunghan: dude 

| seunghan: lowkey i can’t come to lab bc my car won’t fucking start so i’ll have to make it up next week :\ but taehyun and his partner would probably be willing to help you out with calculations and clean up hopefully

Wonbin pants heading up the stairs into the classroom lab, cheeks immediately pink as he’s made a spectacle amongst everyone already sitting and tuned into the TA’s pre-lab lesson. Sighing as he processes Seunghan’s text, Wonbin turns to the drawing of bacterial growth curves on the whiteboard but is soon after preoccupied with the fact that there is no Taehyun on a stool. There’s just your backside entirely in front of him. 

Taehyun is one to set up all his materials before the TA even steps foot through the lab door so if he isn’t here now then that means—

“Guess you’re stuck with me for today.” 

Wonbin tries to swallow but it gets stuck halfway down his throat and is about to go into a choke type cough frenzy when he surprises himself and softly clears his throat instead. His thoughts are all just stuck there—in the middle of his esophagus, begging for them to travel back up to his brain so he has enough stamina to stick it through the four hour class. 

“No hate to him because Taehyunnie’s a tad faster at getting through the steps, so you know, we’re usually out thirty minutes early, but I can promise you I’m better at calculations. And I’m more precise with measurements,” you let out a small giggle before setting your backpack on the floor next to Wonbin’s.

The commotion of pipettes being thrown onto the surface, glass tubes clinking, and sneakers squeaking rushing to obtain their samples is right away drowned out in Wonbin’s ears by the sight of you perched atop the stool a mere few inches away from him. He tries to keep his chest from heaving at bay by taking his notebook out of his backpack and reviewing the method for today’s class. The solution is only short lived though, promptly taking notice of how you gather materials from the drawer while simultaneously reading through your own notebook. 

Every Tuesday and Thursday, Wonbin assumes his seat in the third to last row of his Virology lecture, close enough to the door that he can be among the first to leave as soon as “see you guys next time” leaves Professor Choi’s lips. He longs for the day (ideally it would be quite before the last week of classes but realistically that’s the best he has to offer for now) that he musters up just the slightest bit of courage to join you and Taehyun in the second row, where Seunghan also occasionally accompanies you two. It’s only the third week of this semester, but perhaps the sixth course of his over the past three years Wonbin’s seen you in. From Biochemistry to Rhetoric 2, he has never taken place at a desk next to yours. 

Wonbin’s always aching to know how you’d answer everything he could ever ask you, be it the attendance quiz question or your weekend plans—what time you usually roll out of bed, whether or not you stroll to the local farmer’s market near campus, if you’re spending Saturday with a special someone. He needs to hear you laugh at Taehyun’s cynicism about college. He needs to hear it up close, not having to strain his ear when he’s fifteen rows behind when you crack up at your friend during the five minute break Professor Choi gives the class. 

But Wonbin will take what he can get for now, and if that’s helping you fulfill your wish of completing the lab procedure as quickly as possible, he’ll do it. 

“I can do the calculations for us,” you begin, “would you mind getting our mutant strains at the front of the class and streak the Petri dishes?” 

Wonbin nods almost too enthusiastically and curses at himself for seeming embarrassingly desperate in front of you. Sure, he’d like to muster up the courage to ask you out, but today he’ll try to take it one step at a time.

When Wonbin returns with new plates to grow your bacteria on and two tubes filled with your bacterial strains, you scoot your chair closer to his to later show the finished calculations. He catches a whiff of your light perfume and almost falls out of his own chair. 

As he’s setting up the Bunsen burner for sterilization, you chuckle, “you know the real reason Taehyun’s not here today is because he left town last night to get a head start on the extravagant romantic weekend he has planned with Gaeul.”

“If there’s one way to use our one free unexcused absence, that’ll do it,” Wonbin replies. 

“Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day, Wonbin? I mean if you did I just hope you wouldn’t leave me early like Taehyun did,” your eyes meet his for a brief second before flitting back to your notebook.

Wonbin’s grip on the matchstick to light the burner loosens. He just barely catches himself before the match could fall from his hand onto the lab bench. What he needed to get a grip on was his fucking sanity—he almost set the classroom on fire because his heart instead is aflame for yours. 

Taking a breath, Wonbin exhales when the flame turns to blue, finally lighting the Bunsen burner. 

“Nope, no plans,” he briefly turns to you. There’s a beat and he considers that asking you back would seem too forward, but he does it anyway. 

Upon seeing your grin before you open your mouth, he turns his attention right back to the tubes and plates in front of him. 

It’s so over. 

For a second Wonbin’s relieved, because he thinks he can actually get through the next two hours without overthinking his micro movements in front of you. Now that it’s over for him, maybe he can actually pay attention to the way the metal loop he’s holding makes contact with the jelly-like agar inside the plastic plate and not disappoint Seunghan with the results. However, it’s not realistic because even still, Wonbin takes note of all your beauty and remains completely bewitched.

“Honestly I wish...I mean Minjeong, Yunjin and I are gonna do a rom-com binge and bake desserts…but you know…not any plans with someone like that…” 

Your temporary lab partner tries to hide his smile and nods silently as he continues switching between spreading bacteria on the plate with the metal loop and then sterilizing the loop in the blue flame. 

The rest of lab goes smoothly as Wonbin tries to quell the embers within him for the time remaining. There’s forty minutes left but technically to you Wonbin knows time is dashing away and it should feel like there’s what but only ten minutes left to do everything. Your pair was a few steps ahead of the others, just like how it would be when Taehyun accompanied you every week. 

Wonbin has been psyching himself up the past two hours to finally ask you out but currently he’s stuck in his head and just can’t seem to get it out. Does he chase you after you’ve stepped foot out of the lab or should he leave you be? Or maybe he can try next week. He’ll keep telling himself that until there’s one day of instruction left and then he won’t see you for three months and then he’ll lament the entire summer to Seunghan that he didn’t say shit. 

He can do that…or just rip the bandage off at an agonizing speed. 

The last Petri dish that Wonbin holds is being wrapped in parafilm to prevent contamination. He’d been going through the motions of the procedure while simultaneously not paying attention to his surroundings, at his own self’s behest. You’ve already cleaned the entire lab bench and he doesn’t notice until he hears “see you in Virology,” and suddenly you’re slinging your backpack over your shoulder. 

It’s now or next week…or never—wait you know that Wonbin’s in your Virology class? What you said is ringing in his ears and it hits him all at once.

Petri dishes in hand and turning around, Wonbin freezes in his tracks.

“Um…”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” his own mouth betrays him and suddenly it’s all coming out much too quickly for his liking. 

You’re about to answer but before you can even get a word in, “I-I don’t mean to interfere with your plans with your friends but uh, if you wanted to do something like that I’m down.”

Your lips press into a line and Wonbin is about to pass out from the threatening fluorescent classroom lights. 

“Park Wonbin…are you asking me out on a date?” He can practically feel his sweat melting the parafilm tape off and a vision of him dropping the Petri dishes in front of you, cracking open and shattering, exposing E.coli to everyone in the room flashes before him. He blinks once and calms his vice grip on the plates. 

“Yes. Yes I am asking you out on a date,” Wonbin looks down at your sneakers, not knowing where else to shift his gaze to. 

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you smirk, slinging the other strap of your backpack over your other shoulder and saluting.

Park Wonbin swears his heart is on fire and does a backflip off a fifty foot cliff. A curve forming on his lips, he smiles slightly waving with the plates still in his hand, “see ya…”

You halt your forward movement and turn back around, “Wonbin?” he perks up again, “you should sit next to me in lecture on Tuesday.”

[whispersofalostsoul]

RUNAWAY

Summary: Image if Lando Norris has follen in love for the first time….with a woman that he never thought he could fall for… and when his whole world turns upside down, he finds himself alone…once more...

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(Please leave comments to help me improve my story ! Would also love to hear your opinions ! thank you !)

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Chapter 1 - Encunter --- https://www.tumblr.com/whispersofalostsoul/756913230598815744/runaway?source=share

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Chapter 2 - Belgium

It's been two days since the encounter between Dalia and Lando, and she couldn't shake off the memory of their meeting. Somewhere between fascination and regret, she couldn't help but feel like she may have come off too strong with her emotional opinions. She worried that she might have scared him off, not wanting to be seen as just another crazy fan. But in the end, she realized it didn't matter what he thought of her, since they won't simply meet again. She stared at the blank computer screen in front of her. She knew she had a deadline to meet, and she couldn't afford to let distractions get in the way. Sportsrace, a successful online sports channel, was owned by Olivia Abebe, a 45-year-old Nigerian British entrepreneur. Starting as a journalist, she had worked her way up to owning her own company. The team was small but efficient, with Dalia handling digital content, Henry and Noah taking care of shooting and editing, and Olivia being the face of the channel, conducting interviews and directing. Other services were outsourced to freelance agencies.

Olivia warmly greeted everyone with a "Good morning" before leading the way into the meeting room. As Dalia and Noah joined her, Olivia couldn't help but notice Henry's absence. Concerned, she asked, "Where's Henry?" Dalia quickly explained that he was still on sick leave, a fact that Olivia had overlooked when signing his leave request. Olivia panicked, realizing he was having surgery. "Relax, he'll be fine, it's just an appendix surgery," Noah said nonchalantly. "What are we going to do? We have to cover this weekend's F1 race!" Olivia announced. The two colleagues were stunned by the unexpected news, their eyes widening as they sat up straight in their seats. Their small company had never even dreamed of being able to join the prestigious journalists at an F1 grand prix. Olivia shared that she had received an invitation from the F1 communication department for them to cover the Belgium race weekend. If they performed well, there was a chance for future invitations. As Noah, a huge F1 fan, excitedly jumped around, Dalia couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps Lando had a hand in this incredible opportunity. "Alright everyone, let's keep it together", Noah exclaimed with a spark in his eye. "It's all under control. Dalia, you've got the mics covered, and I'll assist you every step of the way. Trust me, we've got this. Right?" Noah's determination was contagious, Dalia couldn't help but nod in agreement. "Great! then I'll take care of everything else" he continued.  Little did she know, she was about to see Lando again sooner than she expected.

As the sun rose on Thursday morning, the small team assembled at the paddock entrance, ready to begin their day. Noah handed out cameras to Olivia and Dalia, assigning them to cover different entrances to capture the arrival of the drivers. Dalia made her way to the other door, passing by the Mclaren hospitality area. She quickened her pace, hoping to avoid a certain someone she didn't want to run into. Upon reaching the rear entrance, Dalia encountered two journalists eagerly waiting. One of them graciously offered to help her adjust the camera settings. Engaging in a friendly chat with them, Dalia was able to momentarily forget about the cold morning and instead enjoy the chance to interact with new individuals and hear about their adventures in the dynamic realm of motorsport.

In just a few minutes, someone caught the attention of a journalist who excitedly exclaimed, "Look, there's one!" as he prepared his camera. From afar, she spotted a bright red top and a group of fans trailing behind, signaling the arrival of one of the Ferrari drivers. Quickly raising her camera, she began snapping photos as the driver approached. It was Carlos Sainz, and he appeared to be in a rush. As a bigginner photographer, she made the mistake of not moving out of his way, resulting in a slight collision. "I am so sorry," they both exclaimed in surprise. The camera knocked against her upper nose, causing her to instinctively reach up to massage it. "Are you okay?" he inquired, pointing to her nose. "Yes, I'm fine, don't worry," she assured him with a wide smile before allowing him to continue on his way. He cast one final concerned glance at her before hurriedly making his way towards the hospitalities, followed by a crowd of fans. While carefully inspecting the camera to ensure its safety, she spotted a wallet lying on the ground. Upon picking it up, she discovered Carlos' driver's pas. Their collision might have caused the item to fall from his back pocket. Dalia found herself in a dilemma, torn between returning Carlos Sainz's lost wallet or missing out on other drivers' arrival. After a moment of uncertainty, she decided to follow her conscience and chased after the crowd. As she caught sight of his distinctive red shirt disappearing into the hospitality area, she realized he was heading towards the McLaren building - a place she had been intentionally avoiding all morning.

The lack of security at the hospitality was surprising, with no bodyguards or staff at the entrance to monitor who entered. It was almost too easy to walk in. Perhaps her media badge gave her an air of legitimacy. As she wandered through the empty corridor, she couldn't help but question if this was normal. Shouldn't there be a bustling cafeteria or lounge? Lost in thought, she was startled by a stern voice behind her, "You're not authorized to be here," she turned around to face the intense gaze of none other than Oscar Piastri. His eyes, half-closed and intimidating, slowly shifted down to her badge before meeting her gaze once more. "This area is strictly for drivers," he stated with a dry, cold tone. Dalia suddenly realized she had wandered into the drivers' rooms area. "I apologize, I must have lost my way," she said, feeling her face flush. It was a dangerous place to be, especially when trying to avoid Lando. "Here," she pushed the wallet towards Oscar, who stood unfazed. "Carlos lost his wallet, and I wanted to return it after seeing him walk through here." "Hmm, yes, he must be in Lando's room," Oscar explained, gesturing towards the door behind her. A cold sweat ran through her body at the thought of him being so close. She reached for Oscar's hand, placed the wallet in it, and hurried back towards the exit.

After a couple of moments of navigating through the building, Dalia discovered the cafeteria, bringing a sense of relief. She confidently approached the counter and requested a refreshing cold cup of tea to calm her nerves. Finding an unoccupied table, she settled in with a sigh of relief. After a brief moment of composing herself, Oscar approached Dalia and sat beside her, catching her off guard. "I wanted to apologize," he confessed, fiddling with the wallet. "I realized I may have been a bit too harsh earlier, and you were just trying to help." He spoke without making eye contact. Dalia paused to process his words, then timidly reached out to pat his shoulder with a smile, showing her acceptance of his apology. "Have you not handed him the wallet yet?" she glanced at his hand. Oscar hesitated for a moment before replying, " Carlos is with him, didn't want to disturb." Oscar's voice was soft as he continued to look down at the wallet, almost as if he was concealing his emotions. However, Dalia could sense it. The tension between the two teammates may still exist, but from her last encounter with Lando, she could tell that Oscar genuinely cares about him. He's making an effort to connect, but he's afraid of how Lando might react. "well" She hesitated before speaking, realizing she was delving into a topic she had been avoiding. "You have a better understanding of Lando than I do," she said, meeting his gaze. "The incident during the last Grand Prix wasn't his fault, or yours. He knows that. I believe he will eventually move past it... He just needs some time to come to terms with everything," Dalia tried to present a neutral perspective. "So, do you think I should put in more effort?" he asked, with curiosity and innocence, revealing a side of him that contradicted his cold intimidating public persona. It was a rare glimpse of his socially awkward side, showing genuine concern for his teammate. She smiled in response, and he reciprocated the gesture. "Okay, Miss Dalia," he declared as he got up. "I'll go take my chances. And if he ever feels like punching me, I'll make sure to blame you for it," he teased before making his way to the rooms section.

The two practice sessions were a success, with Lando setting the fastest time and Carlos and Oscar close behind. Dalia had the opportunity to capture photos and videos for their online pages, as well as conduct brief interviews with celebrities and staff, all with Noah's guidance. She was truly enjoying herself and felt reinvigorated in her chosen profession. After a long day of work, the team gathered at a coffee shop near the Ferrari Hospitality to have a very late lunch. "I have some great news for you all," Olivia announced excitedly after taking a bite of her ridiculously overpriced chicken sandwich. "I've secured an interview with the McLaren drivers." As Dalia listened, her heart started racing. "We'll be interviewing Lando and Oscar in about two hours, so I need everyone to be prepared." The rest of lunch was spent coordinating and organizing, and Dalia barely ate anything as she became increasingly nervous with each passing minute. 

By 7 pm, the team had already settled into a private room within the Mclaren building, diligently setting up for the interview under Noah's direction. Dalia expertly adjusted the lights and arranged the microphones. Suddenly, a group of Mclaren staff entered, with Olivia in tow, causing Dalia's nerves to resurface. Despite her anxiety, she composed herself, took a deep breath, and stood confidently next to Noah, warmly greeting everyone. Oscar was the first to arrive, flashing her a charming smile as he walked past. Soon after, the man who had been on her mind for days entered the room. His presence was magnetic, drawing everyone's attention towards him. With his suit hanging on his hips, messy hair, and a black bottle in hand, he exuded an air of confidence. His eyes met hers with a knowing look, as if he had anticipated her exact location. Casually greeting Olivia and Noah, he finally stood in front of Dalia, offering a simple "Hi" accompanied by a playful smile. 

Dalia's heart raced as she felt the tension in the room rising, why was he affecting her like this? Summoning her courage, she stole a glance and found his gaze locked on her, just like the first time they met. With a deep breath, she finally reached for the microphones and made her way towards the two drivers. Choosing to start with Lando, she stood before him with a smile, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for his shirt collar. "May I...may I put the mic on the hem of your shirt?" she asked, avoiding his eyes. "Yes, you may," he replied with a chuckle in his usual playful tone. " I want to thank you " Dalia expressed, breaking the silence. "I believe you played a role in our media invitation." She glanced up to see a warm smile on his face. He simply nodded in acknowledgment of her appreciation. "So, where are you staying?" His question caught her off guard, causing her thoughts to race. She felt her heart pounding and did her best not to show her flustered state. "We...we booked an Airbnb not too far from the track," she nervously replied. "Well...I would like to invite you for dinner," he added with a smile. "As a token of gratitude for that delicious carrot cake you brought me last time." He smiled, closing the distance slightly. Dalia was visibly embarrassed and couldn't find the words to respond. After finishing fixing his mic and preparing to move on to Oscar, he whispered softly for her ears only, "I'll text you." But how could he? He didn't even have her number. Then again, if he could arrange an invitation to an F1 grand prix for her company, she was certain he could easily obtain her contact information.

"So ,I see you didn't get punched eventually" Dalia teased, a sense of relief evident in her posture. "You're lucky I didn't," Oscar replied with a warm smile, "But it looks like you weren't as fortunate." He reached out to gently touch the top of her nose, concern in his eyes. "It's from earlier when I accidentally bumped into Carlos with my camera. Is it red?" Dalia inquired, unfazed by his touch. "Yes, slightly," he replied softly, brushing his finger over her nose. "Ice will help prevent any further swelling. Trust me, I'm an expert in ice baths," he quipped, eliciting a small laugh from Dalia. As she turned to resume her position behind the camera, she couldn't resist stealing a glance at Lando, who was now giving them a dark, mysterious look. Taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, Dalia quickly returned to Noah's side and signaled for Olivia to begin her interview.

By the time they returned to the rented flat, they were all completely drained. Luckily, the place had two showers, so they didn't have to wait for their turn. When Noah suggested ordering food, Dalia's phone buzzed with a notification. "Hey, It's Lando," she read the message that appeared on the screen.

D: Hi lando how are you ?

L: I'm good, so when can I come by to pick you up ?

He appeared eager to skip the small talk. Dalia quickly reassessed her feelings about the situation before picking up the phone to respond.

D: 10 pm sounds good, However I have one condition.

L: ??

D: Let's forget the fancy restaurant, and go somewhere more casual. And please don't come picking me up with a fancy car. Something discreet will be nice.

L: Oh I get it now. You don't want to be seen with me.

D: I'm sorry but I can't afford to risk my job.

He stayed silent for a bit, before he started tying again.

L: I'll come pick you up in 20 mins. See yah.

[ros3ybabe]

Where Have I Been?

hello lovelies. so, I started the challenege, did one day, and all of a sudden I feel off the face of the earth. I fell into a bit of a depression, and while I've managed to pull myself out, life has been busy busy busy! This is probably the 2nd busiest week of the year (the 1st will be in August, and you'll find out why). Here's an update on life:

I fly to Colorado on the 16th, so....under 5 days now. I haven't packed or anything yet, but I plan on doing that either tomorrow or Thursday. And I have to clean and prepack for when I return because....

I signed a new lease for a new place to live! I'll have roommates who I haven't met yet (I'm taking over someone lease, actually), but my lease starts August 18th. I return from Colorado on the 14th of August, so....I'm going to be very busy once I return.

I decided to call it quits on getting a 2nd job. It's going to mess up the schedule with my first job, and it would only make me 200$ more a month, which I'm not worried about missing our on since I'll still sell stuff on depop once I return from Colorado and I'm going full time at my current job.

I've gone out to lunch with my dad a few times as well, it's been really nice hanging out with him and spending time with my dad. I lucked out in the dad department and spending time with him is one of my favorite things!

I've been debating going to San Fransisco in October for an XG concert, but I don't know if I'll have the money or ability to anymore. (thank you new apartment and all those fees and expenses!)

my anxiety has been terrible. I haven't changed anything about what I do, but I did squish a lot of anxiety inducing things into the span of two weeks, which....my bad on that. Now I know, don't do that to myself.

I bought new makeup! The juvias place bronzer, charlotte tillbury setting spray, nyx eyebrow stuff, and blush, ughhh I love buying new makeup, I just wish it didn't cost money!

I've gotten better at doing my makeup! I've had people not even notice I'm wearing it because it looks natural despite being like, a full face! Thank you perfect color matches on my skin tint, foundation, and concealors!

I went to two movies with a friend. We saw the new Strangers: Chapter One and the Planet of the Apes movie. Both were definitely good, in my opinion.

I now have to plan with my boyfriend for when he needs to come down here and get his stuff and work out changing the utilities to our roommates name since I'm leaving. I don't feel like it should be my job to coordinate that, but oh well. I guess it's too hard for him and his best friend (my roommate) to call each other for once?? Ugh, men get on my nerves sometimes.

I need to ask my dad and a friend to help me move upon my return, which also means I won't be able to work that weekend, which kind of sucks.

I need to declutter my room and start throwing away things I don't want or need anymore this week to make it easier on myself when I return from Colorado but hahaha I procrastinate a lot.

I'm stressed about paying rent. I'll have to pay rent for here and rent/fees for the new place before august and then September's rent for the new place, and my new rent is about double what I pay now. so yayy, adulting and finances. I don't feel qualified to be an adult, but here I am, age 21, an adult.

That's about it for now! Lots of stress, lots of anxiety, lots of stuff happening super close together. But that's life, I guess. Forgive me for my absence from my blogs. I also stopped studying spanish for now, and my routines are non-existent. Colorado will change that, tho, for sure. I do plan on updating a little more frequently once things settle down when I'm in Colorado. but for now, it'll be kinda here and there with my posting.

thank you for all the patience and kindness, lovelies. til next time 🩷

[iguessyouwonderwhereivebeen]

attention posting as I mindlessly munch of dark chocolate covered almonds, it’s that 2pm lull where the disdain and annoyance of logging on to my laptop at 9am on a Monday to do a job I no longer feel excited about is met with the anxiety and dread of all the looming tasks I have to get done today and this week. A lot going on this week including a spontaneous weekend trip to Santa Monica (I’m leaving Thursday night) that I need to pack and prep for. Today at 4pm I have a face time call planned with my friend from college who currently lives London. I haven’t talked to her in ages so I’m going to catch her up on my plans to move. Also feeling generally discouraged by the lack of traction my listing has gotten since I’ve put my apartment up for rent. I updated the listings on both sites today with more pictures and lowered the rent so that the garage parking is listed separately as an additional cost. I hope this gets me in touch with more prospective tenants. Please little hungry flies looking for new housing, come to my sweet honey listing.. it’s also hard because I put so much love and care into my home I don’t want to sell it short and want to make sure it goes to the right, responsible person.. I broke the news that I’m planning on leaving Chicago to my parents yesterday after I took them out to dinner, they took it hard but were supportive overall. Then my ex called me and I called him back and the conversation left me hurt and disappointed but ultimately reaffirmed my decision. Change is so scary and hard but even the last two months have resulted in a lot of growth for me, like I’ve finally taken action and taken the first steps to accomplish some things I’ve been wanting to do for years. So I think it’s good, even tho it’s been hard, and I’m cautiously hopeful and optimistic that the projects that have begun and what has already been set in motion and has taken flight will result in a favorable outcome 🧿🪬 also wearing cou cou intimate undies today and I love them, wore the new woven white heals I thrifted for the first time this weekend to run errands, got a little blister but it was a good first go. Going on a run, groceries, laundry and a face mask are also on my itinerary today. Tomorrow for dinner I’m going to make buttermilk marinated roasted chicken with fennel and carrots, mashed potatoes with a huge green leaf salad and I can’t wait 

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton, p2, is interviewed during the post-qualifying press conference, britain - july 6, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "Lewis, let's come to you now. An eleventh front row start at Silverstone for you. Just tell us about the session from your point of view." Lewis: "It was a great session; actually, the best session that we've had as a team, to just have the real pace and be able to actually compete with the McLarens and the Red Bulls. I think is incredibly satisfying, just really a huge boost for the team. And the car felt great, as George was saying-a huge congratulations to George for getting the pole-but to be on the front row, I think, is massive for our team. So many of them are here this weekend with their families, nd it's been a long time since we've had it, so this is a great feeling." Interviewer: "How was the build-up of the session through Q1 and Q2, from your point of view?" Lewis: "It's pretty straightforward for me, to be honest. I mean, when it's wet, that's when I'm probably the happiest, so I'm super confident in those first conditions. That was the easiest part for me, I would say. And then it got a little bit harder once we got to Q3, just a bit with balance, but, nonetheless, as I said, I'm super grateful to be here." Interviewer: "Alright. And Lewis, just throwing it forward to the race, do you have belief in the long run pace of the car?" Lewis: "Well, I think I was cautious with my set-up, more thinking to have a nice balance in the race, rather than all for one particular lap, so I do think that the car will be good tomorrow, yeah." Interviewer: "Alright. Best of luck. Thank you very much."

[time jump] Journalist: "Silvia Arias, Parabrisas. Lewis, with the Mercedes performing like that, end of last year, do you think would you be in Ferrari next year?" Lewis: "Do I what?" Journalist: "Do you think you will be in Ferrari next year, performing, if you had last year the car you are having now?" Lewis: "Yes." Journalist: "Performing like that." Lewis: "Yes."

[time jump] NOT SHOWN: Journalist: "Simon Abberley, Nevis Radio. George and Lewis, you said on Thursday you weren't too sure if you had the car for this weekend. Obviously you're doing quite well with where you're sat just now. With that in mind and the changeable conditions for tomorrow, have you maybe geared your car more towards the rain, or is this something that you thought could be potentially possible on Thursday, but weren't too sure about playing your cards out to the media yet?" Lewis: "I completely forgot what the question was. What was it?" George: "Gear up for the race." [laughs] Lewis: "Oh. Well, I said that earlier on." Journalist: [unintelligible] Lewis: "No. We'd set the car up pretty much exactly the same, whether it's wet or dry. It's just all about optimising the aero package."

[time jump] Journalist: "Kieran Jackson, The Independent. Lewis, you've won here eight times. The guys alongside you haven't won at Silverstone before. Do you think that experience, tomorrow, could really help you, particularly if it rains like it did in 2008? Is there a lot you can take from that race so many years ago, but in similar conditions, perhaps, tomorrow?" Lewis: "I mean, all the experiences definitely help and count. As I said, when it's wet, that's the conditions I was perhaps most comfortable in. But these two have also driven very well in the wet, also, so I don't think it's gonna make a difference."

[time jump] NOT SHOWN: Journalist: "Carlo Platella, FormulaPassion.it. A question for the Mercedes drivers: How different is this car to drive, compared to a couple of months ago?" Lewis: "Again, I forgot what the question was. [laughs] Interviewer: "Can you compare the car now to a couple of months ago?" Lewis: "Oh, shoot, yeah. Massive difference." Interviewer: "Where is it different?" Lewis: "Everywhere." [journalists laugh] Lewis: "It's just better everywhere. From Bahrain, for example, the car felt terrible, and the progress that we made in terms of dialing and fine-tuning the car to optimizing the aero package… This team has never struggled to add performance, but where particularly they put that performance, with this generation of car, has been a big question, and where we're getting the downforce from, so yeah… But now they've done an amazing job, the engineers back at the factory, but look, it's… We'll definitely take it today, but these guys are still… Red Bull, particularly Max, and the McLarens are very, very, very fast, and in some ways… You saw in the last race, they were quite a bit ahead of us, so I'm hoping that tomorrow, with the conditions, we can hold our own."

Interviewer: "Thanks for that. Okay. Alex." Journalist: "Alex Kalinauckas, Autosport. Another question to Lewis, please: Just on rather a different subject, the Apple movie, again, is doing lots of filming at Silverstone, as it was last year. I just wondered, can you give us any update on what you've seen and how it's going? And also, what's your thoughts on the film simply being titled, nice and simple, F1? Thanks." Lewis: "There's not really anything else I can add that I haven't already said. I think Joe and Jerry and the whole crew are so grateful to be here and have been incredibly respectful of this space and have been very, very thoughtful. Some people just go out and go about it their own way, but they've been really, really wanting to make sure that the heritage is very much in this movie, nd so I think people… The trailer is coming out soon, so I'm looking forward to people seeing that, and… What else?" Journalist: "The title." Lewis: "I mean, it's probably… Well, what else are you gonna call it? [laughs] I think it would distract from what the series is, so I like it."

[jtargaryen18]

Why Your Vote Matters (aka Where I've Been Lately)

Hi there. I'm back today. We got back Thursday but I needed to recover for a day before I tried to get back to something like my normal life. Needless to say, I missed you all. 💕

So, before I launch into this story, two things. First, my family and I are all okay. Second, yeah, I'm going to get a little political here and I try to keep such to a minimum. But I wouldn't do this without a compelling reason.

Trigger warnings for miscarriage, stillbirth, pregnancy, illness, and reproductive health care.

Not far into October, a friend of mine from college invited us out to visit her in California. Like me, she has two little girls. She and I haven't seen each other since we started families so it has been a little while. We got back in touch a few months ago on social media and often talked about how we needed to get together. My Chemical Romance, our favorite band, was playing out there and she got us tickets.

My husband stayed home but I took the girls, yes I made them do school each day lol, and we went out to stay with my friend and her family. Her girls are lovely, her husband is a really great guy.

I should probably mention that she was expecting her third child, a boy. Her due date was right after Thanksgiving. She was just starting her eighth month when we got there. She looked amazing and everything was going well. She suffered a miscarriage last year, she explained, and with this pregnancy, she was terrified of that happening again. She didn't even tell her friends she was expecting until it became obvious.

This pregnancy wasn't planned. But she wanted 3 or 4 children and when they found out everything was going well and it was a boy, they were thrilled. They had a room set up, all his things ready. Their girls, who are a little younger than mine, are small but they were excited. All four girls were like long-lost sisters from the start. It was fun to watch them.

The night of the concert came. My friend didn't want to take a risk in going. Understandable. I went with a friend of hers named Brie (also an MCR fan) and she watched my girls. It was a really good night.

The day before we originally planned to leave, I got my girls going on school (we homeschool). Her girls had gone to school and her husband went to work. She seemed worried. When I asked what was wrong, she said the baby was still and that concerned her. We talked about it and I finally convinced her to call her doctor's office to get her in that day. She was worried about overreacting. I told her that her peace of mind was important too.

The rest of that day was a nightmare. The ultrasound revealed that her son had died. What happened was incredibly rare. Even if they had been doing an ultrasound the exact moment when things went wrong, there was little chance they could have saved him. Her husband raced to the hospital. I went with my girls to get theirs from school and took them home. Her labor was induced and after 11 hours, she gave birth to her son. And he was a little smaller but perfect in every way. His heart just wasn't beating.

I stayed on to help with the girls. My friend's parents are gone and her mother-in-law lives in New Zealand so she couldn't get there right away. I was glad to help. I've experienced some things at the shelter but this was so much more personal. The loss was intense. Her girls aren't 5 yet. How to explain to them (and mine) what happened. It was hard to watch this couple go through loss and grief and have to face every aspect of that. There was a funeral. There was that happy room in bright yellow waiting for a child that wasn't coming.

The funeral was the Friday before Halloween. I took all our girls to a Halloween trail in their town that weekend. I helped where I could. I decided we'd stay on a few days until her MIL could get there.

But my friend had a fever almost as soon as she got home from the hospital. She didn't look well. Yes, she'd been through hell. But one morning, I was making breakfast for the kids and she came into the kitchen. There was a sick smell coming from her. And I had to tell her that. I asked her if I could check her temperature. It was high. She didn't want to go, but I loaded her and the kids into the car (her husband had gone in to work for just a couple of hours) and took her to the ER. There was something left in her womb. They put her under to clear out this debris (they said it wasn't placenta) which had caused sepsis. It was serious. She was back in the hospital and we almost lost her.

Her husband and I took shifts with one of us staying with her, and the other staying with our kids until we knew she'd make it. I thanked the nurse when we brought her home three days ago for all her help. She told me that she was just grateful my friend was in California.

Her MIL got there Wednesday and we came home. But that nurse's words stayed with me. If my friend lived somewhere else, would she be dead? Would she have been denied the care she needed to save her life after the devastating loss of her son? Would her son's loss be blamed on her? Would she have been arrested? What would happen to that family either way? Either that husband and two little girls lose a wife and mother or legal issues would haunt their lives on the heels of one of the worst things that can happen to a mother.

Tuesday the 8th is election day here in the U.S. And I'm just asking as a mother, for my friend, and our daughters, that you think carefully when you vote. While I understand the ideology of those who say they want to protect the unborn, I get that, there are so many other situations where access to medical care is vital to the life of the mother. Access to reproductive care is vital to families with kids already here, and to the economy.

What happened to my friend can happen to any of us. And this is a woman who wanted her son. She loved him with all her heart. I can't even bring myself to think about what might have happened to them if they lived in a place where reproductive health care is denied or where a bounty could have been placed on her head so someone could get $10k by saying she deliberately caused that loss.

Please vote to protect women and their rights to their own bodies. Please vote to save the lives of mothers, to save families.

Thank you so much for letting me share this with you.

[mjfsupremacy]

EXCHANGE PART TWO

It's been a hot minute since I dropped the first part of this, it's been written for months, I guess I just kinda forgot to post it! Oopsie. Thanks to the folks who read it recently and commented. Reminded me of this cute lil ficcy.

Part One

“Elle.”

Its Friday, an unusually quiet one at that and you decided to tackle Hemmingway, which means you were also simultaneously reading something by Austen and Roxanne Gay to numb the pain. You were leaning back in your chair; ankles crossed on the desk and books and post its strewn around them waiting out the final hour of your shift.

You glance up from your book with a frown. Maxwell leans against the glass with a proud smirk, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Why do you have a highlighter in your mouth? I know things are a little backwards this side of the pond but I think when it comes to holding stuff were in agreement on how its usually done.”

You snatch the pink marker from your teeth quickly offering him a mighty scowl. “Don’t call me ‘Elle’.”

“That chick from last weekend told me your name was ‘Elle’.” He retorts with a roll of his eyes.

“Her name is Lisa, you absolute tosser, and she didn’t tell you my name was ‘Elle,’ you eavesdropped on a conversation where she called me ‘Ellie.’” God you really hate this guy.

“Sorry, I assumed it was a cutesy version of Elle. What’s it short for?” He asks eyes flitting over the mess on her desk, trying to collect any information he can.

“Why?”

“Why does anyone want to know anything?”

“Impetuous nosiness?”

“Or so I know what name to save your number under when you call me. Speaking of which, when were you planning on doing that again, Sugar?”

“The day I tell you my name probably.” You reply bored, your eyes sliding back to A Farewell to Arms. “Wait,” You slide your feet of the desk and stand up suddenly. “How did you get in here? You can’t be in here without someone who lives here.”

Max grins, adjusting his Burberry scarf under his expensive looking coat. “Relax, Toots, my new...friend is outside talking to some girl from her class, she let me in. I’m not standing around in the cold like a poor person while she titters like half her brain was taken in a lobotomy.”

“Well, God forbid you go home with someone and like their personality.” You roll your eyes, relaxing slightly.

“I liked her personality just fine. Both of them.”

Your mouth pulls down in distaste and you all but throw the clipboard and pen at him. “Does the local clinic know about you? I assume the CDC alerted them to your arrival in the country.”

“Haha,” He responds dryly. “Does the local pub know about you? The comedy offerings on Thursday’s got nothing on you.”

You snort taking the clipboard and setting it down. You look him up and down, still leaning against the window in his expensive coat. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I am grown, baby, if you’d let me take you out, I’d prove it.”

“How long can you hold your breath? Have you tried tripling it?” You shoot back. He laughs, surprising a small smile out of you. His laugh is brash and loud just like him but there is something genuine within it, like he’s picky with who gets to hear it.

“I’m a wrestler now and hopefully I’ll be one when I grow up too. I’m here on exchange for the year but I wrestle whenever I can. The UK has a strong scene.” He replies openly, his eyes alight as he talks about a subject he clearly adores. You suppose how built he is makes more sense with this information. “Plus, the ring rats out here are way better than the ones in the states.”

Your hesitant to ask but the question falls out anyway, “What’s a ring rat?”

“Wrestling groupies, girls who just come to the shows to fuck the wrestlers.” Maxwell smirks in reply.

“I knew I shouldn’t have asked but I still did. That’s completely on me.” You mutter to yourself, sitting back in your chair with a disgusted sigh and picking up Roxanne Gay’s bad feminist.

“You were reading that book before,” Maxwell points to the red cover of Hemmingway. “Did you forget? I have been known to have that effect on women when I get them alone.”

“You don’t, How I wish I could forget you.” You reply, flicking through the pages. “Hemmingway makes me want to stab myself in the face. You need alternatives or you won’t make it through the book.” You wave bad feminist in his direction.

He gestures for you to pass him the book and you do with a raised eyebrow. He immediately starts flicking through, stopping at the pages filled with notes. “You can read?” You joke, watching his eyes devour the words.

“You write in your books, what, think your better than the greats or something?” He snarls back his eyes never leaving the page he’s settled on.

“Or something.”

He’s quiet for a moment while he flips the book carefully in different directions trying to break apart your loopy handwriting. You aren’t sure why he’s being so gentle with a book you’ve all but taped back together from how many times you’ve stuffed it into tiny bags or pockets but you find it a little bit endearing. “You know they make more sense once you’ve actually read the words that are supposed to be there.”

That gets Maxwell’s attention and he glances up at you, closing the book on his thumb. “Are you saying I can borrow it?”

You frown, that wasn’t anywhere near what you’d meant but you supposed it wouldn’t hurt to let him borrow it. It’s not like he wasn’t around pretty much every weekend. “Sure, you can borrow it. I don’t know if it’s your speed though.”

Maxwell grins, tucking it safely into the inner pocket of his coat before pushing off the glass. “Thanks, gorgeous, I’ll take good care of it. Promise.”

He steps toward the front door and offers you a little smirk and a wave, “Enjoy the rest of your night, Ellie.”

You roll your eyes but offer a wave of your own in the form of a shooing motion. “Until next time, Maxwell.”

His playful smirk evolves into a wide grin and he disappears out the way he came. You shake your head, grabbing your trusty sign I’m sheet.

MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN

2133 361 6693

You have a post it on your shoe. Enjoy your noodles. Call me if you are ever up for real food. -Max

You snatch the orange post it from the bottom of your ugg boot with a groan, finding your shopping list for the week cramped into the small space.

Later when you put the folded-up sheet and the post it into your drawer for a moment you consider saving his number. You were desperate to know what he thought of the book and even more so to know what he was thinking while he read your notes and dissections.

You decide against it, you’d likely see him in a few days on the arm of another pretty girl from your building anyway. Besides, he was an ass and you didn’t want to give him what he wanted.

Your last thought before finally dozing off was the realisation that Max never came back tonight. And no one else did either.

*

The following Saturday is your weekend off and a few people from your class drag you out for a night on the town. Everyone knows you prefer to be home but they try to talk you into one night out and you can’t help but agree. You thrifted a pair of leather bell bottoms last term that still has the tags on them. It was time.

So, with a copy of Elizabeth Barrett Browning rolled up tightly in your purse (just in case, you weren’t trying to be a pick-me, you’d just been caught out waiting for a lift home by yourself more times than you cared to admit.) you head out for drinks with your friends and end up in a nightclub not long after. You are swaying your hips to the beat and spinning around carefree. Your friends are chanting your name and you can’t help but laugh. You had to admit, it felt nice to let loose every now and again.

It wasn’t a change of pace, per se, you went out, you knew how to have typical university student fun. You even went on the occasional date, but, and you admitted it was probably a bit snobby to say, the late nights, the boys... well, they weren’t especially intellectually stimulating. Not in the way a book was or the tiny Zagreus inside her switch. Still you can admit you have fun, and stay out much later than you’d thought.

When you stumble tiredly into the dorms just before 1 am, you are surprised to see the girl who does alternate weekends asleep in your chair. You didn’t want to be left working every weekend so you know you aren’t going to dob her in but it still annoys you to see her being so careless. There was a reason the girls who lived here had to sign in their visitors, everyone living here deserved to feel safe.

You slap the lip of the counter, shocking the girl so much she nearly falls from her chair. “Ellie, Hi, sorry, I was doing my physics homework.” She explains and you feel a little bit of sympathy. “Oh! Here, some guy dropped this off.” She passes you the book you let Max borrow last week. “He also told me to give you this.” She hands you a folded sign in sheet. “He tried really hard to get your room number from me, but I swear I didn’t give it to him, he called me a ‘stupid whore’ and then left these here. American” She offered as explanation.

“Thanks, sorry.” You offer with a grimace heading down the corridor with a final nod.

MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN

2133 361 6693

You went out? You can do that? Have fun? You’ll have more when you finally call me. I liked this Roxanne chick. I liked what you thought of her too. Maybe I’ll catch you next time and we can talk about it. What I don’t like is discount you at the front desk. Serious attitude. Snores like a truck too. Hope you had a good night, Gorgeous. -Max

You snort softly, tucking the note with the others and sliding the book back into its home on your bookshelf. This guy was unlike anyone you’d ever met, a total shit-stirring wanker and man-whore but for some reason, despite how much he annoyed you, you were beginning to find him entertaining and dare you say, endearing.

Suddenly you couldn’t wait for next week.

[you-are-so-much-better-than-that]

Alternative Timeline

So as of yesterday I have been on Tumblr for a YEAR! A WHOLE YEAR being a part of this beautiful wonderful incredible community that we have all built. And it has changed my entire life. I’ve made friends who I hope will be in my life long after we’ve forgotten about these characters and this universe (will we ever though…?). I have crafted and written and collaborated. I have participated in a zine and cobbled together a couple of drabbles. I’ve had so much fun being your unofficial Keeper of the Shameless Timeline, trying to make some kind of sense of season 1 and, more recently, working alongside some of my favourite artists and people to build a whole ass calendar! It’s been the most wonderful year and I’m looking forward to the next! I’m not done doin this thing yet! 

Also, I know I haven’t been active these last couple of months, but I’ve noticed that there are a bunch of new people around these parts. I just wanted to say HI! HELLO! WELCOME!! I’m so glad you’re here! I see you all liking the things people are making and I know everyone appreciates the like, but I’m just gonna ask you to also hit that rb button! People are out here making things! For you! To enjoy! For free! Art and gif sets and fic! They take so much time, and it's so easy to show your appreciation! Just a couple of buttons! You don’t even have to go nuts in the tags (although we love that kind of unhinged behaviour around here). And if you wanna say hi to us, make some friends, I highly encourage it. It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Ok I’ll shut up now. Let’s talk timeline!

I have tried my best to follow the logic, though sometimes there is none, and follow the clues, no matter how few! And I have tried to do it with as little bias as possible.

HOWEVER!

You guys, I have a confession to make.

There is a possible other timeline that season one could follow.

I do not like it! But, I am here to give you, my precious timeline enthusiasts, the truth! Even if it hurts me. Even if it makes no sense (because it often doesn’t. JW doesn’t believe in time). Even if it takes away the possibility of a Christmas bang and a New Year’s bang, which, truly, would be a tragedy and is the main reason I refuse to follow this other timeline.

Under the cut you will find the second possible timeline. You decide which you prefer, and tell me why! I need well-formed arguments for or against please!

Thank you all for being here with me this year. It hasn’t been an easy one, but you all have made it just a little bit better. I love you all!

Alternative Timeline

Episode 1: Remains the same at November 15, 2010. There is a calendar. Fiona points at it. No disputes here!

Episode 2: This is where it all could change. Bear with me. There is a possibility that this episode might have taken place on January 28, 2011, over two months after the first episode. Here’s why: Frank gets his cheque the last Friday of the month. In both November and December, the last Friday is a holiday, so this acts with the assumption that this is now January and it’s been 2 months since the first episode. I don’t love this idea because nowhere else in this season do they make such a massive time jump.  A few weeks, maybe, but not two months. This also then changes the entire timeline. No Christmas/New Year’s bang, either. What do you guys think?

Episode 3: As this episode starts the Thursday following the previous episode when Tony Takes Fiona to his award ceremony, it leaves Tony’s deflowering to have taken place on February 4.

Episode 4: If I follow the logic of my original calendar which has episode 4 on the same weekend as episode 3, then this means this episode alternatively takes place on February 6th. This actually works quite well with an upcoming event in episode 6. 

Episode 5: I worked a little backwards here. I had to place episode 6 on February 16th, so the only date episode 5 could take place was February 12th-13th, meaning Kev and Vee got married on February 13th in this alternate timeline.

Episode 6: At the beginning of this episode, Carl hands Fiona a note from last Friday and it is now Wednesday. I initially made the assumption that it is Wednesday Dec 15th, however, in this alternative timeline, I’m placing this episode on February 16th. And there is evidence of this date. If you zoom in quite a bit, it’s got a date on it, February 11, 2011, the Friday before February 16th.  But I hate this timeline because it just doesn’t make sense! There is a calendar change in episode 8, two episodes from now! It goes from December to January in that episode. I can get that the calendar is unreliable, but if they’re gonna change it, why change it to the wrong month?? No. I refuse. But anyway. There is evidence.

This now leaves us three weeks to squeeze in the Bangiversary, Slim Jims, and two episodes of Monica before we get to the last two episodes, which we know for a fact take place on March 18-20th, same as the original timeline. Here is the only way this would work:

Episode 7:  Episode 7 would be on February 18th-19th, making Ian and Mickey’s Bangiversary February 19th, getting rid of the possibility of a Christmas and New Year’s bang. Also, speeding up their entire first bit of their young relationship. We just went from a possible two months of secret fucking before Mickey was arrested to a mere two weeks? No! I don’t like it!!

Episode 8: This puts SlimJims and Milkovich-Ian Sandwich on February 25th-27th.

Episode 9: Frank would call Monica on March 5th and, she’d would show up around March 6th. That same night, Mickey is arrested. 

Episode 10: On March 7th, Ian finds out he’s not Frank’s son and Monica abandons her children again.

Episodes 11 & 12: Remain the same. We know they take place on the Friday-Sunday after St. Patrick’s day.

I will admit, there is an elegance to the end here with the Karen storyline. In the original timeline, if she goes to the ball with her dad on February 21st, and then goes emo child on March 18th, about three weeks later. That doesn’t really fit, either. However, I could be convinced to move the entire Monica saga down so that it all happens in March instead of February. This could work actually. (Yes you are reading me figuring this out in real time, folks!)

WAIT!!! WHAT IF we have an alternative-alternative timeline?? And it looks like this:

We ignore the weird Carl teacher’s note thing from episode 6, and we keep episodes 1-8 the same as is in the original timeline, giving us the very, very important Christmas and New Year’s bang as well as more than two weeks of secret fucking, while episodes 9-12 look more like this second timeline, making the Karen storyline make more sense. Oh I think I like this!

Here are some visuals:

OG Timeline:

Timeline 2.0

Timeline 3.0

WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK?? Does anyone have opinions? Do we still care?? Did we ever…?

There you have it folks! Season One all tied up in…a really messy Gordian knot. I hope you enjoyed this journey as much as I have! On to season two! (I promise I won’t take a whole year this time!)

[kissmethroughthebone]

I feel so...... disoriented.

A wonderful date, followed by the next morning getting attacked by his ex. All over some tapdancing financial analyst who I wasn't even SERIOUSLY seeing. Why was I in it? God.

Like, something about this dude was too perfect. He was everything I wanted in a man to manifest, and even got me a ruby bracelet I had secretly desired for ages. And I was like, what's the catch, Universe?

Turns out the catch is the catching of hands at 8:30am by a screaming banshee with an Aliexpress clearance sale wig.

And of course him, he was wanting me around since I'm the only girl he has as an option, but slowly distancing and being stingy, since I suppose whatever classy and elegant softspoken charming woman he thought he knew vanished after seeing me with no wig, pimphand his ex, and then set him straight, ever so gently, I was ridiculously calm even, for lying to me in the first place.

He didn't cheat, they were 100% broken up, she just wanted to start drama. And a man lying and saying they were broken up half a year and just roommates, is a huge difference from saying they were broken up a month only. But regardless, not a great scenario all around.

And oh lookie, the guy who was so generous from the jump and a sweetheart and allegedly wanted to do all this extravagance on my birthday, is now conveniently busy, and "saving money" and whatnot.

And I cut him off since he's now going on a trip. Ah, that doesn't scream money-saving to ME.

Also paired with him telling me last Thursday that he wanted to do this one event with me "next weekend, on the 10th or 11th", and then I had to ask HIM myself last night if he was still down. And he conveniently forgot to tell me.

Ah, for someone always on his mind, he sure forgot about plans we made, or to remotely tell me that the plans are undoable thanks to a spontaneous trip.

Fuck him.

Ah well, I don't get to score an apology gift the size of Texas. A conveeeeeeniently undocumented "destruction of his personal items and stealing all the money in his wallet" from his ex. What dumbass would "forget" to take photos of evidence of a destruction of his items? The DA would throw his case out. His funeral, if he is telling the truth!

I shall take the L and move on, ah well, at least I got it on video. And oddly enough that boosted me to the algorithm on multiple social media sites, so, lol.

And now just using men for stuff on my bucket list and refusing to get attached even if I wanted to. I just no longer respect them at this point. It's a cruel joke to even think about liking them.

The last guy I claimed publicly was messaging women on FaceBook Dating behind my back, even during the good moments, so fuck him. The guy before that was actively sabotaging our relationship by being paranoid of me seeing others, whole time he was the one seeing others. And overall I hate a man that gets stingy, comfortable, or unbearable...

I only came back to the recent fella since I wanted an apology gift at best and a hangout buddy that paid for my stuff at worst, but alas. A liar that lied to make himself look good would of course keep the habit. Ah well, let's dip, thank you.