#but it was all going to be worth it because 2022 was supposed to be their year. his year. and then they just 180 on that

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

It's Okay To Ask For Help

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: angst, unwanted touching (grabbing one's ass without permission), creepy men

Summary: Things don’t look good from where you are. You work at a run-down bar, you’re a single mother trying to keep a roof over your head, and you’re trying to give your daughter the childhood she deserves. You don’t see yourself going up from here until reconnect with Spencer Reid.

Square Filled: bartender au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Sweetheart! Another round!”

You have to keep the disgust off your face as you pour the man another round of whatever he is drinking. Sweetheartisn’t the worst thing you’ve been called at your job, but it’s the way he said it that has your skin crawling. You slide him the beer and pull your hand away fast enough before he can reach out and touch you. He grabs his beer and goes back to talking to his friend but keeps one eye on you.

You move to the other patrons of the bar and push the creepy man out of your mind. It’s not that you hate this job, you hate the people that come in. You’re the only female bartender which warrants unwanted attention from men nearly twice your age. Your boss isn’t any better as he usually lets this type of behavior slide, but at least he doesn’t try to touch you every hour.

The alcohol is running low so you step off to the side to grab some more while your coworker mans the bar. You walk into the back and bend over to grab two bottles when you feel someone press against your ass.

“Damn, baby, I have been thinking about this ass ever since I stepped foot in the bar.”

You stand up so fast that you would have gotten dizzy if it hadn’t been for the stranger groping your ass.

“Get your hands off me!” You turn and push the man away. “You’re not even supposed to be back here!”

“Come on, darling, just give me ten minutes of your time. I promise to make it worth your while.”

You’d slap him if you thought that would keep him away from you. Fucker probably likes that shit.

“No! Get the fuck out of here!”

You’re loud enough to cause your boss to enter the back room, and you look at him with wide eyes that have tears threatening to spill out.

“What’s going on here?”

“Sorry, man, I was trying to find the bathroom.”

“It’s the other hallway,” your boss points.

“Right. Thanks, man.”

You don’t wait for the door to fully close before talking to your boss.

“That man was lying. He came in here and grabbed my ass! I want him thrown out of the bar!”

“Whoa, calm down. That man has paid a lot of money tonight. I’m not going to just throw him out,” your boss sighs.

“He grabbed my ass. Don’t you care that he assaulted me?”

“Don’t be overdramatic. I’m sure he was just looking for the bathroom and accidentally knocked into you.” Your mouth opens. You can’t believe your ears. “Kevin is getting swamped out there. Get the alcohol and get back to work.”

You stay in the back room and cry for the next ten minutes. You’d quit if you didn't need this job. You have a daughter at home to support, and her father is only doing the minimum to help you. The court ordered him to pay you a thousand dollars a month for child support, and that barely covers your rent. You still have to work long hours just to put food on your table. You can’t afford to lose this job because no other place will hire you.

You’ve applied for other places and have even gotten an interview once, but nothing ever came of it. It’s like they back out as soon as they hear you’re a bartender at this bar, or the fact that you’ve got tattoos that you can’t exactly cover up with normal clothes. You don’t have any on your face or neck, but you do have some on your hands and chest. Darren, your boss, only hired you because of the way you look in a crop top--at least that’s what you believe.

You wipe your tears and join Kevin behind the bar to continue as if nothing ever happened. The man is gone but that only; means two more people just like him replace him. The only thing getting you through this shift is the fact that your sister is kind enough to watch Delilah until you get off at five in the morning. She’s agreed to the arrangement since she leaves for work around the same time you get off.

You’re saving what you can even if it’s only fifty bucks a paycheck, but it’s not nearly as much as you’d hope. Something needs to change or else you’ll drown in pain.

The rest of the shift goes by relatively smoothly, and you leave just as the sun is peeking over the horizon. You drive to your sister’s house where she is getting her lunch ready for work. Her husband is already out of the house since he’s a contractor and works before the sun is out, and Delilah is still in her pajamas watching cartoons in the living room.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks.

“No. Just a rough night, I guess.”

“You really should look into getting another job.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “Are you ready, Delilah?”

“Yes, Mommy!”

You leave with your daughter and head back home where you get her ready for school. You drive her to the bus stop and watch as she gets on. After the bus has left, you manage to make it home without crying. As soon as you step through the door, the waterworks are in full effect. Once that dam has been opened, it’s hard to close them. After a quick shower, you crawl into bed to try and get some sleep. You don’t have blackout curtains so the light still shines through the dark curtains, allowing you to see all the artwork you’ve hung on the walls.

You’re a good artist but you can never make any money off it. If you could, you’d be doing that full-time instead of bartending to a bunch of assholes. You manage to fall asleep until three when you leave to pick Delilah up from school. Your shift starts at seven in the evening so you have a little time to spend with your daughter before dropping her off at your sister’s.

“How was school, baby?”

“Good! I got to sit next to Lily today. Her and her Daddy are going to the fish zoo this weekend. Can we go?”

You chuckle at what she calls an aquarium. Your smile is lost when you think about Lily and who her dad is.

“You mean Lily Reid?”

“Yeah. Can we go? Pretty please?”

“Sure, baby. That sounds fun.”

You’ll have to work a double in order to pay for it, but you’ll do it if it means giving your daughter a normal childhood. Back before you had your daughter, you used to live right next door to a man named Spencer Reid. You two were joined at the hip and did everything together, often spending the night in each other’s apartments to keep each other company. You never did figure out how you felt about him until he left for the FBI academy.

By then, it was too late. You haven’t seen him since.

There are rare times when you see Spencer drop his daughter off at school before he goes to work, but you hear about him more than you see him. Delilah and Lily have a lot of after-school playdates at your sister’s house when you have to go to work early or need a bit more sleep, so you hear about Spencer from your sister. She knows about the two of you and often tells you about how he’s doing. She’s rooting for the both of you even though you don’t think he’d be interested in you now.

It was rough work but you managed to make it to the weekend without too much of a problem. Kevin agreed to take your shift on Saturday so that you can spend it with your daughter, and you agreed to take his Monday so he can have at least two days off in a row.

“Come on, Mommy!”

Delilah practically drags you into the aquarium hoping that Lily is there waiting for her. Spencer and Lily aren’t there yet so you two decide to wait in the large waiting area. The place is a large glass tunnel where you have an unobstructed view of every sea creature swimming by. Due to the excess water, the entire room has a blue hue to it. Delilah is mesmerized by the animals and runs over to the glass to press her face into it. You’re kind of nervous at seeing Spencer after all this time because you finally figured out how you felt about him after he left.

You were in love with him… you might still be.

You take out your phone and take pictures of her posing in front of the animals and some when she’s not even paying attention. She looks to the right and squeals when she sees her best friend.

“Lily!!”

You watch the two little girls run and hug each other, and your eyes lock on Spencer’s. Seven years apart but it feels like no time has passed when you look into his eyes. The girls go off to explore while still being close enough to you and Spencer.

“It’s been a long time. How have you been?” you ask.

“Still in the FBI and catching bad guys.”

“That’s so cool to be in the FBI.”

“Not as cool as you might think. How have you been? What are you up these days?”

“Bartending at the moment. Remember Skull Bar?”

Spencer stops walking and looks at you in shock. “You’re still bartending here? Didn’t you hate that place?”

He must remember the nights when you’d come home crying because you hated how you were treated by sleazy customers.

“I still do, but what am I going to do? I have Delilah to support, and it’s not like her father is helping much. I should ask for more since he is making a lot of money, but I haven’t had time to go to the courts.” You two continue walking after both of your daughters. “I miss living next to you.”

That’s your way of telling him you miss him dearly even if he doesn’t pick up on it.

“You know, the apartment next to mine just opened up. You two can move there. I know Lily would love it.”

It hurts knowing your lives would be much better staying at a place that doesn’t have broken appliances, but how will you ever afford it? You can barely afford the dump you live in now.

“Spencer, it’s a nice thought but it’s not like I can afford it. I make good tips but bartending barely puts food on my table. I can barely afford the twenty-five hundred dollar rent I have now. Apartments in the city cost a lot more. I appreciate the offer, though.”

“Are you still drawing? I remember you always making me something. You were and probably still are incredible.”

“Some but it doesn’t pay the bills, so I had to put it on the back burner.”

“You’re talented enough to make it a career.”

“Well, when you know of a job that will benefit me, let me know.”

Spencer nods in thought and you two continue to walk after your kids in silence. His phone rings and he steps off to the side to take the call while still following the girls. You look at Spencer and admire him without him knowing about it. He’s grown a lot since you last saw him not only physically but mentally. He must have been through a lot of shit to have that faraway look in his eyes.

He ends the call ten minutes later and walks back over to you. Lily and Delilah are busy petting the sting rays which will give you another twenty before they’re ready to move on.

“I’m going to say something, and I don’t want you to shut it down immediately. I want you to think about it,” Spencer says.

“Okay…”

“My team is looking for a sketch artist, and I know you’d be perfect for the job. You have the skill. It pays well, better than bartending, and the benefits are so much better. You and Delilah would be taken care of.”

You gasp at the thought of finally leaving that shit hole, but you remember the promise you made Spencer. You bite your lower lip to prevent yourself from denying it. After two minutes of thinking about it, you release your bottom lip.

“What do you think I’d say to that?”

“That you’re not a charity case and you don’t need help.” He’s right. You would have said that. “Just think about it. Think about Delilah. It’s still within the school’s boundaries so she doesn’t have to switch.”

You look at Delilah and Lily who are laughing from the water the sting rays are splashing. This job would offer you a more normal schedule and allow you to spend more time with her. You’d be able to provide her with a better childhood.

“Your office is on the other side of town from where I live. My car isn’t that great.”

“I know of a place a lot closer,” he smirks.

“Is this a ploy to get me to move in next to you?”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Sometimes people need help, and it’s okay to ask for help. That doesn’t make you a bad mom or a bad person. It makes you strong because you’re doing it to get better.”

Tears well in your eyes at the opportunity being presented to you. You don’t hesitate to give him your answer.

“I’ll take it.”

You pull Spencer in for a hug and wrap your arms around his neck. Spencer wraps his arms around your waist and closes his eyes from the feeling of you being back in his arms. You pull away from him but don’t step away from him. He glances down at your lips wanting to kiss you but not wanting to overstep.

“You owe me ten bucks,” Lily says loud enough for you two to hear. “Look at them. They’re gonna kiss. I told you bringing them here was a good idea.”

You giggle at the thought of both of your daughters being little masterminds. Well, if money is on the table, you better make Lily ten bucks richer. You lean up and kiss Spencer, finally feeling like everything is right in the world.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Day 325! A deceptive amount of art done, believe it or not XD I spent a lot of time combining lineart layers into one and that required strategic line erasing. Also, my iPad died just in time for me to go to bed, so I figured I should probably stop for the night >.> The iPad (whose name is Apollo btw) is plugged in and charging, that's how you're getting this update, but I should probably avoid staying up too far past my bedtime so I can be coherent for work in the morning, so as soon as this posts I'm getting some raspberry lemonade and conking out until 6am :P

[babydollmarauders]

OUT — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which everyone has been wondering about the hair tie on Jack’s wrist, and they finally get the answers they were looking for

notes: THANK YOU MADDY ( @thatintrovertedwriter ) FOR THIS IDEA!!! I’M OBSESSED WITH IT!! not proofread and written while heavily sleep deprived

a relationship was never part of my intentions when i accepted my job offer.

in fact, any sort of love was pushed to the far corners of my mind. my focus was on showing everyone that not only men can be equipment managers in the NHL.

i had gone through so much rejection. countless teams citing that they decided to go in a different direction, and hiring a male for the job instead; and though most of the staff would try to deny that my gender was a part of it, there was always that one guy that had no problem with admitting they didn’t believe that a woman had any place in the NHL.

as if the job was hard. as if i couldn’t hand players sticks just as well as any man could.

but then the New Jersey Devils came into play. they had heard some talk about me and were the first team to reach out to me. they offered me the job, and i eagerly accepted. i felt i had something to prove. my gender doesn’t diminish the performance of my job.

so most of the 2022-23 season, i put all my focus into my job. i was amicable with the players, making sure i knew any superstitions or things i shouldn’t do with their equipment, but i never let it pass into any real level of friendship.

and then Jack Hughes happened.

when he got injured and had to sit out for a few games, i was put in charge of keeping him company. for four games my job description changed from handing players new sticks, to babysitting a twenty-one year old, and i wasn’t happy in the slightest.

it felt insulting, and apparently Jack felt the same way. somehow in those four games, we went from sitting across the suite from each other, to bonding over how stupid it was that i couldn’t do my actual job, to forming a friendship.

and in a matter of weeks, our friendship blossomed into something more.

it started with him coming back to my apartment after rough games, watching movies and letting off steam by joking around and playing drinking games. then along the way, we stumbled into bed. one hookup turned into two, which turned into another, which turned into a date, and finally by the end of the season, he was asking me to be his girlfriend.

it took me a week to finally tell him yes. an entire week of struggling with the decision. wondering if, if i start a real relationship with this player, am i proving all those men who told me i had no place in the NHL, right? but ultimately, i decided that my happiness was worth more than someone’s opinion of me, and i told him yes.

***

jackhughes

liked by nicohischier, trevorzegras, and 150,599 others

jackhughes 3/3

Load more comments

subbanator 🚀

user83 is he wearing… a pink hair tie on his wrist?

user45 where?

user83 it’s on the same wrist with his bracelets

user16 omg you’re right

user02 is his hair even long enough to put up?

user77 @/user02 apparently

user91 what if it’s a girlfriends? oh my god

brendan.brisson Same time next year

***

i’m running late.

i’m running late and i’m rushing.

i’m running late, i’m rushing, and i’m contemplating breaking all rules of the road to arrive to work on time.

nothing is going right for me today.

i was supposed to have the morning off, so i didn’t set an alarm, but then i woke up to find six missed calls from my boss and a text asking if i could come help get equipment ready for practice because one of the other equipment managers came down with the flu.

then, i had to deal with getting yelled at because i didn’t have my ringer on and therefore, woke up after practice ended and didn’t come in and help.

then, i tipped over my brand new bottle of cold brew and had to spend almost an hour mopping my kitchen floor and wiping down the counters to get rid of the stickiness.

then, at the last minute as i was stepping out the door to head to the arena, my hair tie broke. and now i’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scouring my apartment for a new one, only to come to the conclusion that i have to leave now or else risk being yelled at for a second time today.

i give up entirely on my search for a hair tie, accepting my fate of wearing my hair down and rushing out of my apartment so fast that i almost forget to lock up behind me.

when i finally make it to Prudential Center, i’m able to clock in just before i’d be considered late, and i have absolutely no extra time to search for my boyfriend amidst the chaos of the season opener.

instead, i set off straight to the equipment area, working in tandem with my colleagues to make sure every players gloves, pads, and everything in between is ready, before i put each players gear into their respective locker room stalls.

i stack pucks in a high pyramid at the bench, ready for warm-ups, and line sticks up against the glass behind the bench, all set to be handed out when needed.

amongst the frantic running around the arena and getting things ready, i lose track of how many times i’m adjusting my hair; flipping it over my shoulder and tugging it out of my face.

finally, i get a split second to breathe, pulling my hair up in a makeshift ponytail with my hands as i stand outside the locker room, on standby in case any of the players need me.

“hey.” i instinctively drop my hands at the sound of someone talking, my shirt falling back down to cover the sliver of my abdomen that had shown when they were raised.

at the sight of my boyfriend, i sigh in relief, his chuckle reaching my ears as his arms snake around my waist.

“i scare ya?” Jack teases.

his helmet hits against my back, as he holds it in one hand. he’s all geared up, ready to hit the ice for the first game of the season, and oddly enough, i can’t help finding it incredibly attractive.

“just a little.” i huff, and a wide grin spreads across his lips. i smack his chest, but all that it hurts is his padding. “don’t be mean! i’ve had a bad day.”

his smile drops into an exaggerated pout, and he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.

“i’m sorry, baby.” i hum in acknowledgment, waving it off when he asks if i’d like to rant.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll rant later.” i assure him. “after you win your game.”

“our game.” he states, and i roll my eyes.

he’s made sure to never let me forget how much work i put into the team’s equipment and gear. citing that they wouldn’t be able to win without my help.

in his eyes, it’s as much my wins and losses as it is his.

“right.” i nod, patting his shoulders. “in that case, i’m gonna be very upset if you lose our game.”

his head tips back, laughter pouring past his lips, and it sounds like a melody in my ears.

“i’m confident. we’ll win this game.” he assures me, finally letting go of my waist and backing up. “if we don’t, you and i will never hear the end of it from Larks.”

ahh yes, Dylan Larkin. the Red Wings captain and Jack’s friend, whom i met over the summer while visiting Jack at his lake house.

“go!” i shoo my boyfriend off as the rest of his teammates begin pouring out of the locker room, heading off to line up, ready to hit the ice for warm-ups.

waving to the guys, who smile back at me in return, i head out to behind the bench.

as the guys warm up, i double check the bench stock of smelling salts, tums, stick tape, skate blades, and whatever else the guys may need during the game, before standing idly by.

*

finally, the game is underway, seven minutes left in the second period, and my boyfriend has already gotten a penalty in first for ‘roughing’.

i’m watching my boyfriend skate around the ice as i tend to his teammates, anxiously holding my breath as the clock winds down.

Jack zips across the ice, and i’m gnawing at my lip as he gains control of the puck. but before i know it, he’s just scored his first goal of the season.

a small smile splays across my lips, attempting to contain my excitement as he skates past the bench, bumping fists with his elated teammates before taking another lap around the ice.

Luke turns his head to grin at me, but he’s sidetracked as i’m interrupted by a teammate.

“y/n, can i get some salts?” Timo asks, and i nod, spinning around to grab some, my hair whipping in my face as i do so.

i let out a frustrated groan, turning back around to hand the little packet of smelling salts to number 28.

“you okay?” Timo questions, his brows threading together and i nod.

“it’s my damn hair.” i huff as he moves down on the bench, making room for my boyfriend and his line mates who now join on the bench. “i usually wear it up, but my hair tie broke and it’s getting on my nerves.”

wordlessly, Jack absentmindedly sheds his gloves off, pulling something from his wrist before holding it out to me where i stand directly behind him.

my lips part in surprise as my eyes lock on the pink hair tie that’s pinched between his index finger and thumb.

my hair tie.

“oh.” i breathe out, plucking the hair tie from his grasp. i smile, immediately pulling my hair up into a high ponytail. “thank you, love.”

he turns his head just enough to spot me, beaming back at me for a moment before turning back to focus back on the game that’s about to restart.

i lean forward a little, my hand lightly resting against the padding on his back, but he must feel the slight pressure because he leans back a little to show me he’s listening to what i have to say next.

“congratulations, babe. i’m proud of you.” i speak lowly, only for him to hear, before i stand back again, as though the interaction never happened. both of us focusing back on the game that takes place in front of us.

***

***

Jack lays beside me in my bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, nodding along as i rant about my day.

“…but seeing you in the box was a plus.” i finish off my long winded ramble, effectively gaining his attention back at my teasing.

he locks his phone, tossing it to the side as he looks over at me.

“what was that?” he asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. but before i can repeat myself, his fingers are working against the bare skin of my stomach.

my abdomen tightens as i laugh, squirming and trying to get away from his touch.

“stop!” i cackle, attempting and failing to push his hands away as he tickles me.

“no, say that again!” he chuckles, maneuvering his body now to straddle my legs so that i can’t run away, even if i wanted to. i shake my head wildly. “say it again! what was that? i don’t think i heard you right! cause it sounded like you just said the highlight of your day was seeing me get penalties!”

“that’s not true!” i squeal and he momentarily ceases his attack, tilting his ear towards me as if he’s listening closer.

“i said they were just pluses.” i defend myself, quickly following up, “the highlight of my day was finding out you wear my hair tie on your wrist.”

he looks down at me with a smirk, obviously quite proud of himself.

“stole that from your apartment.” he announces with pride.

“when?” i laugh, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

his hands now rest on either side of my head, holding himself up.

“the second time we hooked up.” he murmurs, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “you had complained that day when you forgot you hair tie at home. i never wanted you to be uncomfortable again, so i took one when i left here that night.”

i blink back at him in surprise, my heart thumping loudly in my chest, whooshing in my ears.

“are you telling me, you’ve been wearing that hair tie on your wrist, for the past seven months, just in case i ever needed it?” i ask.

“mhm.” he hums, his nose nudging against mine as he nods, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“i’m so in love with you.” i whisper, pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss.

his lips slot against mine, his tongue slipping in to tangle with mine in a deep and sultry kiss, before he pulls away.

“oh good, because apparently our interaction tonight on the bench?” he pauses and i furrow my brows, nodding for him to continue. “yeah, apparently that happened while the camera was on me.”

a gasp slips past my lips, and he cringes slightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, we’ve been outted.”

we both let that sink in for a moment, pondering what our relationship will be like now that everyone knows. fans certainly analyzing our every move now.

but despite that, we can finally go on dates in public, and post each other on our social medias without panicking that we may have accidentally posted on our public stories instead of our close friends ones.

“i think i can live with that.” i finally break the silence, and he grins.

“yeah?” he questions, pressing a kiss against my lips, and i nod against him.

“yeah.”

[aritany]

it feels like yesterday i was posting my first ever WIP intro—this is that story.

today DEAD GIRLS DON’T SAY SORRY is out in the world, and i am officially a published author!

i love this story and everything it means, and i can’t wait for nora and julia and dillan to meet the readers that need them.

at its heart, DEAD GIRLS is and always has been about navigating grief without closure. how do you heal when the person who hurt you is out of reach? how do you heal when that person will never say sorry?

today is wildly significant to me not only because my debut novel launches, but also because on this day two years ago, feb 6 2022, my whole life imploded. i lost a spouse and two sets of parents in one fell swoop when i refused to go back in the closet regarding my gender identity, and while i’d expected the road would be long and bumpy, it was a shock that so many were unwilling to walk it with me.

i never imagined starting over at 22, let alone while struggling with chronic illness and no savings. but i did it, and DEAD GIRLS was with me the whole way, for better or for worse. slowly, i got to rebuild a family who who have supported me through it all. i’m so grateful to all of you here on writeblr who have showed endless kindness and support—more than you’ll ever know.

i’ll get off this soapbox in a second, but a last word: the grief does get easier to walk with. to those who have been hurt by friendships that were supposed to protect you: there are people worth trusting around every corner. to my fellow queer kids orphaned by bigotry: i stand with you & beside you & that hurt might never go away, but it does fade with time.

be you. be free. live joyously🩷💛

oh, P.S. you can support my journey (and future books) and buy it here ;)

[flight0fthenavigat0r]

A Goodbye to The Bad Batch

I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.

One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.

This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.

It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.

Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.

The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.

But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.

At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.

But then I started The Bad Batch.

I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.

I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.

I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.

I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.

What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.

That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.

That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.

That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.

That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.

That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.

That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.

That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.

My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.

But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.

It's very difficult to believe that this is it.

Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.

I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.

We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.

Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.

The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.

Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.

“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”

[callmewrinkles3]

All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.

A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!

Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.

SUB: Resignation Letter

From: emmy@.ric3.com

To: blake@.ric3.com

Dear Blake,

Please use this email as my official resignation, effective immediately. I’m sorry that I can’t offer any more notice.

Working with you has been fantastic, and I appreciate everything we’ve gotten to do over the past three years.

Kind regards,

Emma.

Signing it Emma felt wrong. Emma was for Zak Brown and Andreas Sidle. Christian Horner had used it the one time she was introduced to him at Red Bull. She was always Em or Ems now. Except for Dan, she was his Emmy. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Or ever again. If he called her that she thought she might lose the last grip she had on her composure and break.

The email was scheduled and sitting in her outbox to send after the race, and the last thing she did before boarding was reschedule her flight home. Instead of leaving Monday morning with the boys, she was going on Sunday evening. She’d be somewhere over Queensland by the time Blake received the email and the boys would be at least twelve hours behind her. It was enough time to make sure she could be well ahead of them and get away.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be smiling and laughing, and she was supposed to be in Perth right now cuddling her niblings and laughing with Grace and Joe. Learning to cook yet another family recipe and insisting that she and Dan were just friends. She couldn’t even answer the question honestly if they were friends now.

He’d sent her away. The one thing she begged him not to do, the pinkie promise she’d made him give. The only promise she had ever asked him to keep. Not to stay safe while driving, not to do anything else. Not to leave her alone. The near screaming match they’d had in his drivers room that Blake and Michael had to break up. The way he didn’t even look at her but told Blake to “take Ems to the hotel”. How she had tears streaming down her face as she was escorted through the paddock like she wasn’t supposed to be there.

She still didn’t fully believe that she’d dropped her phone in the car. Em shouldn’t even have been in the car alone with Blake, but Dan insisted she went to the hotel room so she went. She was left there alone in Saudi Arabia, where Dan knew she couldn’t leave the hotel. She stared out the window at the smoke from the rockets, completely alone all night until Michael knocked on her door the following morning and she had to pretend everything was fine.

She’d worked from hospitality and as soon as the race finished she changed her flights to go back to London instead of Perth, making up an excuse. And Dan bought that she was going back for her parents.

“Family stuff.” She’d said when he asked.

“Em, you don’t talk to your family much.” She was folding clothes into her case, the one she’d brought that had her Australia clothes already standing fully packed.

“Yeah, but it’s family. My parents have their thirty fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I’m helping plan it.” Only the last part of her words were a lie and she bit her tongue.

“Everyone wants to see you, they all miss you and they keep asking when you’ll be over. The kids miss you.”

“I’ll see them in Melbourne, Dan. You go, enjoy your time at home with them.”

She’d gotten a car to bring her to the airport and Dan hadn’t even asked a question, just a “text me when you land”. There was no hug, no even quick hand squeeze like they usually did in the Middle East. That’s when she knew whatever they were doing. The nearly four years of sleeping together and pretending they weren’t, of the media wondering who she was and why she was always there, was over.

She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to catch feelings, that it was just sex. That she could do it. That every time she told Dan “y’know, right?” it was purely platonic. That the slow sex was just them wanting to take their time, nothing else. That she hadn’t murmured to Dan to make love to her in Bahrain when they shouldn’t have even been sharing a room after Grosjean’s crash, when he kissed her and held onto her and whispered that he loved her as he entered her.

Because that was sixteen months ago and nothing had changed. It was never going to change between them. Their fight in Saudi had proven it, and now she had to pretend that everything was fine before she said goodbye to the people she loved for the last time.

She couldn’t keep working with Dan when not sleeping with him. She couldn’t watch him fall for another woman, couldn’t get introduced to more people as “Em, my best friend” anymore. She was his Emmy. He was her Danny. And not getting to love him and be loved by him how she wanted to was going to kill her.

The flights were what she expected, Dan had upgraded her tickets to first class like he always did and she wanted to kill him like she always did. She spent the flights and the layovers organising his calendar for the next three months, tracking his flights and cross checking the sponsor events that had been filled in. Everything up to Hungary was booked and ready to go. She checked her watch when she was halfway to Melbourne, realising that he’d be at the Optus event she was usually on his arm for. She was supposed to be there this year, but she told him to take Michelle instead. All the events around the Australian GP that she always went as his plus one, wearing the star necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday, and the matching earrings that were her Christmas present the same year. Her outfit was usually one he’d bought for her against her protests because “let me spoil you” was how he showed that he cared, and she always wore the gold moon ring on her thumb that matched the sun one she’d bought him for his little finger. Most of her wardrobe and all of her everyday jewellery were presents from Dan. Her life was completely entwined with his, and untangling it all was going to hurt.

Her flight got in at god-awful o’clock that Wednesday morning, she’d lost a full day having left London on the Monday evening, but she walked through Melbourne customs with her suitcase glad to just be through. She’d told everyone she’d get an Uber to the hotel and meet them for breakfast, but instead as soon as she appeared in front of the glowing Melbourne sign two small figures ran to her yelling.

“AUNTIE EMMY YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE!” Em dropped her bags and fell to her knees, arms wide open to pull Isaac and Isabella into her and pressing so many kisses to their curly heads.

“I’m here, I’m here. I missed you both so much. So, so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you, I wanted to see you sooner.” Stupid Western Australia and closed borders and not letting people through. Her eyes began shining as she took in the difference in the two kids, Isaac at least a foot taller and losing the childlike way he’d spoken. Isabella had doubled in size, long hair and a child instead of a toddler the last time she’d seen her in person.

“It’s ok, you’re here now! Nana said you’ll sit with us for ev’rything ‘cept the race? Cause we’ve got two years of birthday and Christmas pressies for you!” Isaac looked so proud, grinning as he took her wheeled carry on and pulled it.

“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”

“Grandad Joe! He has our sign, Uncle Mike and Uncle Blake told us we had to use all the glitter. We were gonna wait, but I saw you and I wanted a hug. Is that ok?” He looked almost worried of her response, but she ruffled his hair.

“It’s more than ok. All I wanted was hugs from the two of you.”

Isabella clung to her waist, Em lifting her up with one arm and mentally thanking Michael for the strength training that let her carry the girl and pull her suitcase with her. She looked around to see Joe holding a giant piece of bright orange card, Auntie Emmy written on it in blue and silver glitter. It was the shiniest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and it was coming home with her even with the craft herpes that would infest her suitcase. Joe pulled her into a one armed hug on the side his granddaughter wasn’t monopolising, pushing a kiss to the side of her forehead that made her want to cry.

“We missed you, kiddo. Grace wanted to be here but we couldn’t fit her in the car too, and Dan’s doing media today. You cut it tight to get in.”

“It’s my parents wedding anniversary next week, I’ve been helping. I have to fly out after the race on Sunday.” It was Wednesday, and she could see his face fall as he realised how little time they’d have together.

“We’re spending as much time with you as we can until you go. Those boys get you all year round, we get you for this weekend.”

“That sounds perfect.”

When they made it to the hotel Em was greeted with yet more hugs from Grace, Michelle, and Michelle’s husband Adam. There were tears in everyone’s eyes at the reunion, and the long hug from Grace was the best thing ever and broke her heart at the same time. It was so restorative, so good, but she wasn’t going to get many more of them.

“Dan checked you in, here’s your key. He’s got the room on the other side of you, Blake’s on the other wall, we’re most of our corridor. Do you want to get some sleep and we’ll call you at noon?”

The first thing Em noticed about her room was the adjoining door between her room and Dan’s. She closed the lock gently to make sure she was completely alone. After that she napped fitfully, waking up to knocks on the door and yet more hugs. The day was spent going to the zoo, kids hanging out of her as she swung them around and gave piggybacks, feeling exactly like part of the family. Blake told her to take the day off for jet lag, and she wasn’t complaining.

That evening was filled with fun as the kids clung to her while she pulled out the first of so many presents. Chocolate first so she could see their faces eating proper chocolate rather than the Australian stuff that didn’t melt in the heat. The bag of duty free was quickly eaten between everyone, a movie on tv as she filled everyone in on what she had been doing. It wasn’t until after eight that Dan appeared wearing a suit.

“Ems! I thought you were coming with me tonight?” She looked up from where she’d been half dozing with Isabella curled up against her, taking in her best friend wearing a navy blue suit and white shirt.

“Coming to what? I’m taking today for jet lag. What’s tonight?”

“The AusGP reception. You always come!” Confusion was written all over his face and Em swallowed once, looking at him carefully.

“I said I wasn’t doing anything this year. I have to leave pretty much straight after the race, I don’t have time.”

“Emmy, please.” She hated that she couldn’t resist him when he did that, when her name curled around his accent like that.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” This was the closest they’d ever come to an argument in front of his family. Their eyes were going between them as if watching a tennis match.

“I got you something.”

“Dan, you can’t do that.” It was pointless to argue but she had to try make her point. She couldn’t just do everything because he wanted her to.

“I did. C’mon, it’s three hours and some schmoozing and we can come back so you can go to bed. He did his best impression of puppy dog eyes, lifting Isabella from her. “You want to see Auntie Emmy all glam and pretty, right Is?”

“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”

“You’re very right. I left the dress in your room, Ems. Please?”

“Fine.”

She said her goodbyes and went into her room, making sure the adjoining door was locked before going into shower and change. As she walked into the bathroom she thought she heard the door rattle but ignored it, forcing herself to take time to put herself together.

Years travelling around the world had taught her how to make herself look presentable in very little time, forcing her to learn how to do a blow dry with a hotel hairdryer. It took less than an hour to have hair and makeup perfectly done, a wrap around her shoulders and a pair of heels on her feet. The dress Dan had picked was perfect for her. It was lavender, knee length with a corset top, and her jewellery worked perfectly with it. He had taste when it wasn’t about party shirts. Once she was ready she picked up a clutch and knocked on Dan’s door. He opened the door confused, but ready to go.

“I thought you’d use the adjoining door? It’s why I got us these rooms.”

“I’m tired, Dan. Can we just get this over with?”

The launch was like anything else, an event to deal with. There were speeches and then wandering around the room, Dan’s hand hovering at her lower back but not quite touching her. She smiled as she was introduced as “meet Ems, she’s my best friend and my manager’s assistant who keeps my life on track”, even while her heart was breaking. But she kept her cool, finally managing to break away from Dan for a few minutes to chat to Ted and Natalie from Sky while Dan did the rounds.

“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I was talking to Michael yesterday, he said you weren’t in Perth with them,” Ted remarked as Em looked at the almost empty glass of champagne in his hand.

“Is this going to end up as gossip on the notebook if we talk?” Nat nearly snorted with laughter, Ted shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Nope. I’m drinking so I’m officially off work duties. Unless you have any gossip about things? Anything that I can attribute to an unnamed McLaren source?”

“I don’t work for McLaren, thankfully Zak doesn’t sign my paycheque. But no, I’ve got no gossip. There’s some family stuff happening so I have to head home pretty much as soon as the race is over. But I needed to see everyone, it’s been almost two years and I missed them.”

“Fair.” They chatted about the season so far, studiously ignoring the controversy around the last race, until Dan arrived back to make excuses and get them to leave the party.

“Back to the hotel?”

“You read my mind.”

The car ride back was the most awkward one the two of them had ever done and Em didn’t know what to do. Usually if they were in a car alone together they’d be curled into each other or at least holding hands. But she was on her side of the SUV, Dan was on his, and the hand she’d stretched into the middle as a peace offering was ignored. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with that. Didn’t want to know, really. All his actions did was solidify that the painful decision she’d reached was the right one. Just because things could be easy didn’t mean they were right.

When they reached their floor in the hotel Dan stopped outside her hotel room as Em waved the keycard at the lock.

“Night, Dan.”

“But I thought…”

“What?” She was sharper than she should have been, but she was jet lagged and tired and heart sore.

“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”

“Your family are two doors down and the kids are here. The chances of at least one of them knocking on my door before I want to get up in the morning are high, and I don’t want to have to explain why we share a bed when we’re not married. Do you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As soon as the hallway door closed behind her she double checked the lock on the adjoining door before flipping over the door lock. If she’d looked out the peephole she would have seen a confused and disappointed Dan standing in the hallway.

The next few days passed in a haze of having the kids around, working, and ignoring Zak. She knew he was the original source of the rumours the year before, he was the one who got Mazepin to start spreading that she was sleeping with all three of her boys. It was her greatest pleasure to get to tell him no, and she did it with joy.

But in between finalising as much as she could before her resignation was sent she had time to wander Melbourne alone. She loved the city. It had always welcomed her in, it was Dan’s home race and the place where she knew everyone adored him. Em wandered around a craft market, finding a jewellery maker who made gold charms and engraved them on the spot. It took her all of ten seconds to buy two and get them put on different coloured leather cords, one each for Isaac and Isabella. The front had a pair of angel wings for each of her angel kids, and the engraving on the back read love you forever, Auntie Emmy. 

Leaving her family behind was going to be the hardest part of this, and she needed to make sure that they knew just how much she loved them. Em was so aware that she was about to be the first adult to choose to walk out of their lives, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to break their hearts the way hers would break too. She just hoped that when they realised she wasn’t coming back they’d know she wanted to tell them how much she loved them.

Practice and qualifying were shit and she felt her dislike of the team growing even stronger. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to deal with the stupid orange team and the way that they were favouring Lando already. Dan was the one who won a race last year, not Lando. He was the one who had proven himself with podiums galore. But they didn’t care.

That night she left the door between their rooms unlocked. Her bags were half packed, her resignation email was scheduled to send and she’d triple checked the timezone on it. Em had spent the last two days hugging everyone as much as she could, surprising Chloe by popping into the Aston garage before a practice and waving to Lance and Seb as she pulled Chloe into a giant hug. Scotty got one too, trying to put the love and care she had for her best friends outside her boys into a hug. There were waves to the people she couldn’t hug because rumours would start, giving Susie a recommendation for the restaurant they all ate at the night before so she and Toto could have a family meal with Jack in privacy. The small things to make sure everyone knew she thought about them and loved them.

Em couldn’t sleep straight away. Nights before races were hard, the crashes she’d watched with her own two eyes usually playing in her head. Dan in Anthoine’s car, Dan in Grosjean’s. Dan in Lewis’s place the year before with no halo. Dan in the rain and a tractor on track. All the ways she knew people had died racing she thought about and she couldn’t deal. Her fear every time Dan slid into his seat in the car was all encompassing but racing was his first love and she could never ask him to stop.

She was about to get up and go down to Michael’s room to ask for some melatonin, but the doorknob between the two rooms rattled and clicked open quietly. Em stayed still as she was, breathing in and out steadily.

Dan slipped into the other side of the bed. If she just opened her eyes she’d be able to see him. If she reached her fingers out slightly she could touch him. It was the first time they’d shared a bed since Bahrain and being just over covid and she wanted him to hold her. Her body was screaming to curl into him and tell him she loves him and she’s his and she doesn’t want him to fall in love with anyone else because she wants him to love her. To choose her over all the models in the world he could have.

She didn’t sleep that night, too aware of his presence in the bed. She could hear his snores but she didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t dare move in case she disturbed him. He needed his sleep the night before a race.

As the morning dawned through crappy hotel curtains she could feel the vibrations from the alarm on his watch, the one he always used to try let her get some extra sleep when he needed to be up early.

Please kiss my forehead. Please, Dan. Please just give me any sign you want me to stay. Don’t leave me again.

Every morning was the same when they shared a bed. He’d delay until the very last minute to stay in the warmth and then kiss her forehead in goodbye. And then he’d leave, not content to get out from there until he made sure she knew he said goodbye.

This time he slid out of the bed without touching her, padding across the still room and going back into his. Em heard the lock slide shut on his side and rolled over, tears filling her eyes.

It hurt so much already, how was she supposed to pretend that everything was fine? How was she supposed to act normal around everyone when she wanted to scream that they were over and nothing would ever be the same again? How could she be okay when she felt like this? 

He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.

A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.

“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.

“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine.  See you there?”

“See you there.”

Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.

“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.

“What’s this for?”

“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”

“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”

“Miss you too.”

She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.

Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.

“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”

Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.

You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.

The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.

The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.

Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.

Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.

And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.

She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.

“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.

“Home.”

“Emmy…”

“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.

“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”

“Because I have to go back.”

“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.

“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”

“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”

She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.

“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.

“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”

“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.

“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”

“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.

She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.

“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.

“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”

Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.

“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”

“I love you too, Grace.”

Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.

“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.

“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.

“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.

“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face. 

“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”

“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”

“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.

She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them. 

“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”

“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”

“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn’t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.

“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.

“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.

“He seems like a good guy.”

“He’s one of the best.”

Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.

She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.

Em, what’s this email about?

What’s going on?

Tell me you didn’t mean to send this

Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?

Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?

We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.

When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.

It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.

There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.

But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.

The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.

“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.

“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”

“Yes?”

Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.

“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”

“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”

“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.

“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.

“See you then.”

The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.

It felt so, so wrong.

The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.

Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.

She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.

It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.

Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.

After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.

The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.

Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.

The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.

The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.

Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.

It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.

Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.

Danny,

I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.

Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.

Emma

Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.

Blakey,

I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.

I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.

Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.

Thank you for everything.

Love,

Ems

PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.

She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.

Mike,

I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.

Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.

Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.

Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.

Love,

Em

When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.

He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.

Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.

She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.

The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.

The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.

Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.

Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.

*

When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.

“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.

“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“

“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”

“Ok. Go shower and head out.”

The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.

All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.

The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.

There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.

It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.

“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”

The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.

The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.

He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.

“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”

He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.

Until he saw the boxes.

Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.

She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.

Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.

It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.

She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.

“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”

His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.

“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”

“Did you read any of what she wrote?”

“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”

“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.

“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.

“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”

“She told me to leave!”

“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”

He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.

He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.

She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.

“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.

“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”

“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”

“What happened?”

“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”

“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”

“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”

“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.

“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”

“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.

Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain. 

But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.

“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.” 

“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.

“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”

“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”

“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“

“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”

Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Raw

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & KO / @thirteenisles

Tagging: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @hoesforthecanes @hockeywritingcollection

Relationship: Andrei x Kat

Warning: Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids). Cum play

Summary: Flashback to the first time Kat and Andrei fuck without a condom.

Word Count: 5.8k

Comments: Tiff and Katie asked for more Kat and Drei, so they get more Kat and Drei! (Also I know we’re all secretly happy sad that the Canes are eliminated so here’s a little something to cheer people up) Hope you guys enjoy!!! 

(c) nat g. 2023 // do not repost, do not claim as your own

March 2022

No matter what, if Andrei wasn’t playing on a Friday or Saturday night and he was home, they always had a movie night. Kat always looked forward to those days, getting Andrei all to herself after a long week of hockey, one of the few days she didn’t have to share him with the city of Raleigh, not that she was complaining, they both loved the city, the fans, and their passion. But it was nice to have him all to herself.

This week they were watching What’s Your Number. Kat picked it out. Andrei wasn’t exactly paying attention but he grasped it was another romcom. How could he pay attention when Kat was in nothing more than a pair of his boxers and one of his Canes shirts he outgrew and it had been over a week since he last felt her sweet pussy around his cock.

They had been on the road and when he tried to sneak out to see Kat in the middle of the night Jordo had walked him back to his room. He tried desperately to convince Jordo to let him go, but there was no negotiating with him. It was the night before a back to back and Jordo didn’t need their star up all night because his girl worked for the team.

But the joke was on Jordo because he was up late anyway sexting Kat all the things he was going to do to her once they got back to Raleigh.

But, because the universe was a cruel being, he strained his groin during the second half of the back to back. It wasn’t bad, just a tweak, but Kat shooed off his every advance since.

“You need rest,” she said.

“I don’t want you to over work yourself,” she said.

“It would be worth it, Kisa,” he said, but she wouldn’t have it.

Which brought them to Friday, spending their night off watching What’s Your Number on her living room couch, more than a week since the last time he had her.

It was a good movie, or good background sound anyway. He saw it out of the corner of his eye as he watched Kat. Her skin was warm as he rested his hand on her knee before dragging it upward, his thumb rubbing soft circles. He was young, wound tight from hockey, and he finally got the girl he had been after since he entered the league, of course every chance he got he was going to try to get some.

She had picked the movie, but it was secondary to him. Everything was always secondary to him. They had been together, officially, for just over a year, but, God, she could never get enough of him. It was crazy how she could go from indifferent toward him to insatiable. But he had truly and irreversibly wiggled his way into her life.

Not that Kat complained as she let her legs part a little more to give him more room, which he greedily accepted as he trailed his hand higher on her thigh till he found the edge of his own boxers.

“Drei,” she whined softly, her voice was like honey. “We’re supposed to be watching the movie.”

“I’m watching something better,” he hummed, his accent thick before he leaned in and softly kissed the exposed skin of her neck. She smelt like the vanilla bodywash she had been using and he wanted to drown himself in her scent. Kat tilted her head to give him more room and she hummed softly, her eyes fluttering close. “It’s been too long,” he added, even if it hadn’t been, his voice muffled by her skin.  

“Well, that’s not my fault,” she replied. “You’ve been sore from the game.”

“I’m not sore anymore,” he told her and nipped at her jaw before he smoothed it over with his tongue.

She let out a soft moan before she turned towards him and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she straddled his lap, pressing her hips into his. “No? You’re not sore anymore?” She asked and brushed her lips over his, humming as she teased him.

He caught her lips in a proper kiss, shamelessly gripping her ass to pull her closer as he moaned into the kiss. “Not even a little bit.”

She rolled her hips against him. “That’s good,” she hummed before kissing him deeply. He was never going to get enough of her lips and his fingers dug into her ass as he tried to pull her closer. She was his girl. His woman.

Kat could feel it as he hardened beneath her and she continued to grind down on his cock, moaning into his mouth the harder he got. “Sure you’re still watching the movie, sólnyshka?” He teased and his lip twitched up as he slipped the tips of his fingers past the band of her shorts.

“What movie?” She replied with a smirk before she nipped at his bottom lip, and he breathed a laugh before he kissed her again, gently kneading her ass.

Kat was gentle as she gentle dragged her nails down the back of his neck and she giggled when he shivered, but her giggle turned into a breathy moan as he brushed his fingers over her clothed pussy. It was his turn to chuckle as he slowly rubbed her, feeling the heat of her through the shorts, his shorts. “What? Not laughing anymore, sólnyshka?”

“Right there, Drei,” Kat moaned softly, her nails softly digging into his skin.

“Oh, here?” His touch was light and he purposely ignored her clit, wanting her to beg for it. Kat, his Kat, was so strong and assertive and he loved when she told him just how much she wanted him, just how much she needed him.

She kissed him again, rocking her hips against his hand as she tried to move his fingers to where she wanted them most. He bit her lower lip hard enough to make her whine and smirked as he releases it, “tell me where, sólnyshka.”

“Touch my clit, Andrei,” she whined. “Please.”

He hummed as he smirked and leaned back to give himself more room before he slipped his hand into the front of her shorts. He groaned at how wet she was, running his fingers over her slit before he rubbed soft, lazy circles on her clit. “Fuck, you are so wet for me.”

“Only for you, Andrei,” she moaned. He was the only man that could make her feel this good.

“I need to taste you,” he groaned as he circled his finger over her entrance. “Been too long since I’ve had my mouth on your sweet pussy; spent the whole roadie dreaming of your taste, Kisa.”

“Yeah?” She bit her lip, “you know what I want from you?”

“What, Kisa?” He hummed, just barely pressing his finger into her as he ate her alive with his eyes.

She leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear, her voice soft as honey, “I want you to cum inside me tonight.”

He froze and his jaw went slack as his cock throbbed. She didn’t— He had to have heard her wrong. Fuck the thought alone had him squeezing his eyes shut with a moan as he imagined how warm and wet and perfect she would be around his bare cock. “Kat,” his voice was broken. “You’re serious?”

“Very much so,” she whispered and pulled back to look at him, dragging her nails down the back of his neck. “I want to feel you, all of you. I want to feel you cum inside me, want you to fill me up till it leaks out,” her voice was soft as she twirled a piece of his hair between her fingers.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled in Russian before he kissed her deeply, tangling his fingers in her hair to pull her closer. “You feel what you do to me, Kisa? Feel how hard you make me?”

“Yes,” she breathed as she rocked against him. “Fuck, yes, I do.”

“Fuck, all I want is to sink into you and fuck you right now, feel your sweet perfect pussy around my cock. But no.” He had to taste her first and he pulled his hand from her shorts and lifted them to her mouth, brushing her wetness over her lips. She wrapped her lips around his fingers, her eyes fluttering shut as she sucked them clean. “Good girl,” he murmured before he kissed her deeply, licking the taste of her off her tongue.

She moaned into the kiss, rolling her hips against his, “take me to bed, Andrei.” He didn’t need to be told twice and he easily stood up, both hands on her ass as he carried her to bed to have his way with her.

“Oh—” Kat gasped when Andrei dropped her on the bed. He looked at her for half a second before he slipped his fingers into the band of her shorts and pulled them down her legs and he groaned when he finally got his eyes on her. It really had been too long.

His shirt was next to go and he tossed it aside before he knelt between her legs and pushed her shirt up. He was never going to get tired of just looking at her, she was so beautiful. His gaze alone makes her shiver in delight. He always made her feel wanted. His touch was gentle as he ran his hand up her calf. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured and kissed just above her knee.

“So are you, Andrei,” she said and she propped her head up a pillow so she could see him better.

He sucked a mark onto her inner thigh and smoothed it over with his tongue before he looked up at her, “you think I’m beautiful?”

“Beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, handsome,” she listed as she ran her fingers through his hair, and he was quick to kiss her inner wrist.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered in Russian and kissed her before she could question what he said. Her Russian was getting better, but some things would remain secret, even if she hated his little Russian secrets. “Should I give you another hatty?” He asked against her lips. “Make you nice and wet for my cock?”

“Whatever you want Andrei. I’m yours,” she replied and tried to pull him closer.

“Okay, Kisa,” he kissed her again before he began to trail his lips down her throat to her chest. He knew she didn’t like visible marks, but he left one about her collarbone before he trailed his tongue down her chest and around her nipple. “Fuck your breasts,” he groaned and playfully nipped at the soft flesh.

She let out a loud whine, “oh god.” He was so attentive and made her feel like she was on fire in the best way and when he looked up at her with those dark eyes she literally melted.

“Just me, Kisa,” he smirked and flattened his tongue over her nipple before he blew softly. “You should stop wearing clothes around the apartment.”

“But then I’d never get any work done,” her voice was breathy as she tried to laugh.

“Oh, I think we’d get plenty done,” he smirked and took her nipple between his lips and he used his fingers to give her other equal attention. His hands were so big they completely cover her breasts but he loved it, he loved every inch of her body from the beauty marks on her face, to the freckles on her chest, the dimples in her thighs, and scars on her knees. He loved every part of her. Every part of her was perfect and he was thankful to have any piece of her. He was always going to show her just how much he loved and appreciated her and he sucked gently on her nipple before he switched sides, ensuring they received equal attention.

“Fuck, Drei…” she moaned his name softly. She felt herself get even more wet as he worshipped her breasts.

He moaned against her skin, eyes closed as he focused, grinding his hips into the bed to get a little relief for himself. She made him so hard, she always had. He had been into her since day one, she drove him crazy in the best ways. But now that he had won her over, she felt the same. She couldn’t get enough of Andrei.

Slowly he pulled back and dragged the trip of his tongue down her stomach as he settled between her legs. He’d spend all day and night there if she let him. He blew over her clit and chuckled when she whined, “you are so wet for me.”

“Only for you,” she told him quickly. He was the only one who could get her worked up like this.

“Only me,” he repeated and bit her inner thigh hard enough to mark. His, he thought.

She gasped, but he soothed it over with his tongue before he eyed her pussy, the corner of his lips twitching up. He looked up at her and pursed his lips before he spat on it. She didn’t need it, she was wet enough, but he always loved the sound that left her mouth and the way she flushed when he spat on her pretty little pussy.

It was a half strangled gasp and half moan that left her lips and she arched her back as she reached down to thread her fingers through his hair. “Drei,” she moaned and tried to push his head down.

“Patience, Kisa,” he told her, looking up at her again as he slowly licked up her slit. She tossed her head back as she moaned loudly and she didn’t mean to, but her legs closed around his head as he circled the tip of his tongue around her clit.

It would be an honour to be suffocated by her, he thought, face buried against her pussy. Not a bad way to go at all.

She tugged his hair and reached behind her to grip the pillow, needing something more to hold onto. No one ate pussy like Andrei Svechnikov. No one.

His eyes closed as he focused on her clit and only on her clit, swirling his tongue around her bud as he sucked softly, driving her absolutely crazy before he dipped his head down to fuck her with his tongue, nose buried in her sweet cunt so the only thing he could taste and smell was her. It was obscene the things he could do with his mouth. And moaned against her like she was a meal sent from heaven just for him, enjoying it almost as much as she was.

She ground her hips against him and he only pulled her closer as he tried to bury his tongue deeper in her, his hands gripping her thighs, digging his fingers into her skin. Andrei loved to mark her up, loved to litter her skin with reminders of who made her feel good, who worshipped her body. He wanted everyone to know she was his, that he was hers.

It wasn’t like they weren’t so obviously together. Everyone knew she was his, but he just loved seeing the bruised road map of what he did to her the night before; he loved to retrace his lips over the marks the next day and remind her that he was the only one who could make her feel this good, and that no other man could or would.

Slowly he looked up at her, his brown eyes darker with lust. His cock was aching to be in her, but he wanted her to cum on his tongue first, needed her to cum on his tongue first. She was close, he could feel it as she fluttered around his tongue. “Oh, God, Andrei, please, baby,” she got out between broken moans.

He hummed against her and switched back to focusing on her clit, sucking as he traced the tip of his tongue over the bud just the way she liked. “Oh fuck— oh fuck.” Her moans got louder the closer she got until she came hard, her grip tightening on his hair as she rolled her hips against his mouth, moaning so loud it echoed in the room.

Andrei groaned as he felt her cum against him and he slowed his tongue to draw it out, his eyes closed in concentration. He truly would never get enough of her taste. He could drown in her cum and it wouldn’t be enough. When her grip loosened on his hair, he forced her legs wider and dipped his tongue down to gather her cum and he moaned louder at the sweet taste of her before he focused back on her clit. One wasn’t enough for him. One was never enough for Andrei, he needed at least three or maybe even four. He needed to have her shaking and pussy sensitive from his tongue.

“Jesus, fuck, Andrei,” she moaned and tried to close her legs out of sensitivity, but he was so much stronger than her and he pulled back as he forced her thighs open, a smirk playing on his cum coated lips before he pinched her clit between his fingers, making her squeal. “Oh fuck no— Ah—” was all she managed to get out because she was so sensitive and he knew how easily it would be to make her cum again.

“No?” He repeated and pinched her clit again with a smirk, his tongue darting out to lick over her cum coating his lips.

She gripped the sheets underneath her, so incredibly close and when he did it again, she came with a loud “fuck!”

He swallowed as he watched her and slowly rubbed her clit to draw her high out. “Again? So quickly? Oh, Kisa,” he hummed but he smirked as he watched her with hungry eyes.

Her thighs shook from the intensity of it and she bit her lip and whimpered, “so sensitive.”

“So soon?” He teased. He had only given her two and he knew she was capable of many, many more than that. Kat nodded, her skin flushed, but he wasn’t done with her, not yet, and he continued to softly rub her clit as he looked up at her.

She could feel her high building again from his lazy rubbing of her clit and she whined softly, her hips bucking into his hand. It was good, but she needed him to fuck her, needed him to fill her up.

“Andrei please,” she begged and he laughed against her thigh before he bit it again, leaving another mark in her soft perfect skin.

“Tell me what you need baby? Tell me what you want?” He knew exactly what she was after, but he wanted to hear her say it again.

“For you to fuck me,” she begged, lifting her hips. “I want to feel you.”

“Yeah? Want my cock in your tight little pussy, sólnyshka?” He bit the inside of her other thigh, happy to cover her in reminders of him.

Her voice caught in her throat before she nodded. It was a wonder she once considered herself to be a dominant before he ruined her. “I need your cock,” she told him breathlessly.

“And I need my hatty,” he hummed as he continued to rub her clit. Just as soon as she gave him another. She was so soft and wet under his touch and he quickened his fingers as he laid his other arm over her hips to keep her still.

She came with no warning, tugging his hair as she struggled against the arm over her hips as she clenched around nothing. “Please,” she whined as she rocked her hips up. “Want to feel your thick cock, Drei. Want to feel you cum and fill me up.”

He crawled back up to her, wrapping his hand around her throat, and he smirked as she arched into him, her eyes momentarily fluttering shut. “And you’ll get to feel it, you’ll get to feel all of me,” he told her and pressed his hips to hers as he kissed her deeply.

She moaned loudly into his mouth. It was the most she had ever felt him. He usually pulled back to get a condom, giving her but a moment of his cock resting against her, but not this time. This time it was a promise for what was the come and she hooked her leg around his hip and pulled him closer.

He rutted against her as he controlled the kiss. “Mine, all mine,” he muttered between kisses, his cock easily gliding between her folds.

“All yours,” she agreed and roughly gripped his shoulders, dragging her nails across his skin. “Andrei, please.”

“I got you baby, I got you.” He kissed Kat again before he sat up, wrapping his hand around his cock and he stroked himself a few times before he tapped his cock against her clit. “You ready?”

She nodded and reached down to cover his hand with hers to guide him to her entrance, fluttering at the feeling of his tip against her. He slowly pressed into her, his eyes rolling back as he swore in Russian. It was so much better than using a condom, she was so tight, warm, and wet and fuck—

He really had to think of something, anything, else because he’d cum too soon.

Her leg tightened around his hip and she moaned loudly as she fluttered around him. There was no barrier between them, just them, just him, buried deep inside her. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she tried to pull him closer. Even nothing between them wasn’t enough, she needed him closer.

He gripped her leg and hiked it over his hip to get himself deeper, moaning as she clenched around him and he started thrusting slow and deep, his eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of her alone.

“Yes, God yes,” she cried, her back arching as she closed her eyes. He filled her in the best ways, in the most indescribable ways.

“Fuck.” He could barely think of anything other than how good she felt around him. He muttered in Russian how good and perfect she was. She could only understand bits and pieces, but she opened her eyes and her pussy clenched at the sight of him. Andrei’s chest was flushed, his eyes squeezed shut, and his lips parted as he moaned, completely lost in the feeling of her. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen.

She couldn’t help but pull him closer and kiss him deeply, moaning into his mouth. “Feel so good, Drei,” she told him dreamily. “So fucking good.”

“Kisa, you feel like a fucking dream,” he groaned, kissing her again. He’d never tire of her lips.  

She moaned in agreement and bit at his bottom lip. She loved how absolutely wrecked he is. “You gonna cum for me, Drei? Gonna cum in my pussy?”

“Not until you cum first,” he replied and bit at her bottom lip, watching as it slapped back against her. “I wanna feel you cum around my cock.”

She nodded and trailed her hand down to her clit but before she could touch herself, Andrei knocked her hand away to rub her clit, groaning as she clenched around him. He was so close and he bit his lip to control himself. She needed to cum first. He needed to know the feeling of her cumming on his cock.

“Come on, Kisa. I want you to cum, want to feel your pretty pussy cum around my cock. Want to see the bliss on your face and hear my name rolling off your tongue,” his voice was breathy as he thrusted harder, deeper.

Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders and he knew they’d leave a mark but he didn’t care, he loved it, loved when she got possessive over him enough to mark him. “Don’t stop,” she told him breathlessly. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, not gonna stop till you’re cumming around my cock and I’m filling you with my cum and—” he cut himself off with a bite of his tongue. For a brief moment he couldn’t help but think and knock you up.

His hips stuttered as he thought it, eyes momentarily dropping down her body. Kat could see it in his eyes and it sent her over the edge, her nails raking down his back as she came hard, her eyes rolling back with a long moan of his name.

Andrei squeezed his eyes shut and his hips stuttered as she clenched around him, her cum dripping down his balls, but he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She will always cum first. Always.

She could feel her high start to roll into another and she dug her heel into his lower back to try to get him closer. “Fill me up, Drei,” she moaned, her voice breathless in his ear.

He leaned down and kissed her lazily, so close it only took a few more thrusts before his hips stuttered and he filled her up with his cum. He moaned loudly into her mouth and she hungrily swallowed it and she tried to pull him closer as she came again, moaning just as loud as she fluttered around him. She was so warm, so full, so good, he thought, and when he broke the kiss to rest his forehead on her shoulder, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

Kat was gentle as she rubbed his shoulders. “God,” he groaned as he rested more of his weight on her.

“Feel good?” She laughed softly and gently ran her fingers through his hair.

“So good,” he agreed and he kisses her softly. “You’re so good.”

Kat smiled into the kiss, “you liked it a lot?”

He could only hum. He’d stay in her all night if she let him, but he didn’t want to crush her, so, as much as he didn’t want to, he gently pulled out, both of them wincing at the loss. “I loved it,” he told her.

She frowned at the loss of him and when he rolled onto his back, she rolled with him, pressing herself up against his thigh. “I did too,” she confessed.

“I think we’ll have to do it again… in about… ten minutes,” he grinned cheekily next to her.

“Ten minutes?” She bit her lip and lightly ran her nail down his chest, smirking as his muscles clenched under her touch. “You’re slacking. I thought one of the pros to dating younger was a fast rebound time.”

“Listen woman…” he gripped her chin and made her looks at him. “Your pussy is magic and sometimes it quite literally drains me away so maybe I need a few extra minutes.” Kat scrunched her nose up in disagreement, but it didn’t last long as he slid his hand down in between them, the tips of his fingers brushing her clit. “But that just means I have to pay you more attention in the meantime.”

Kat’s smirk fell as he brushed her clit with the tips of his rough finger. She was really sensitive and his fingers were big and rough and she instinctively rolled onto her back to give him more space, but he wasn’t after her clit. No, he shifted down till he was between her legs and he smirked as he looked up at her. His cum was leaking out of her. “Well we can’t have this…” he said before he scooped their cum on his fingers and pressed it back into her. “Gotta keep this inside you.”

Her breath caught in a gasp and she clenched around his fingers. He didn’t want her to waste his cum. And just when she thought he couldn’t get any hotter he proved her wrong as he licked his lips and he looked up at her, “can’t have it go to waste, right, Kisa?”

“No, we can’t,” she agreed and let her legs fall open more. She bit her lip as she watched him, “I wonder what it tastes like, your cum mixed with mine.”

He hummed and his gaze alone made her shiver. “Guess we have to find out,” he told her and he slowly pulled his fingers out and looked at her as he sucked his fingers clean. He moaned at the taste before he pressed them into her again and pulled them out and held them out to her. “How about you have a taste and be the judge.”

Kat hungrily took his fingers and her eyes closed as she licked them clean with a satisfied moan. “Tastes good right? You and me together?” He asked as he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a lewd pop and kissed her deeply, licking the taste of them from her mouth.

She moaned louder and pulled him flush against her. She could feel he was hardening again and she rolled her hips into his. “Very good,” she agreed.

“Yeah?” He asked as he took himself into his hand.

“So very good,” she repeated, holding his gaze and he guided himself into her again.

“The fucking best,” he agreed, his accent heavy. She moaned loudly, not caring if the neighbours heard through the window he left open. “I could spend the rest of my life buried in your sweet pussy,” he said softly in Russian. “You’re all I want; all I’ve ever wanted.”

He figured all she could pick up was maybe a few words, but he was wrong. She had been learning Russian, lessons stolen she could, and she understood every word he said. “You’re all I want, too,” she repeated back to him between thrusts and pulled him impossibly closer.

They were practically fused together, him buried so deep, and all he could smell was her, sweat and sex. He was more rocking into her than anything else, so close and intimate and she was so close again, so desperate to cum again. He was so deep, hitting her g-spot with every thrust. He was gonna fill her up again, make her cum.

“Drei,” she moaned as she clung to him. “My Drei.”

“Yours, Kisa, I’m yours,” he moaned, so close himself, but she had to cum first.

It only took a few more rock of his hips before she came again, moaning into his neck. It wasn’t as strong as her other highs, but it was still good, so intimate, and it was enough to send Andrei over the edge as well. He spilled into her with a loud moan of her name and filled her up with his cum. It was so good, so warm, and she didn’t think she could go back now that she had fully had him.

He let out a shaky breath and slowly rested his weight against her before he kissed her softly. “I love you so much,” he whispered against his lips.

“I love you more,” she whispered back.

He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Impossible,” he breathed and kissed her again before she could argue. She hummed against his lips. She’d let him have it this time. He certainly loved her longer, but she fell harder.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow he pulled out, shushing her softly before he got up and headed to the bathroom to start a bath for the two of them to clean them up. “You good baby?” He asked when he came back, stroking her cheek.

“Very good,” she smiled sleepily at him as she leaned into his touch. “But I don’t think we’ll be needing any more condoms.”

He raised his eyebrows as he bent down and easily scooped her up in his arms, “yeah? No more condoms?”

“No more,” she hummed. “I don’t want anything between us anymore.”

He grinned as he sat her down on the edge of the tub. “I can get on board with that,” he said and quickly tested the water to make sure it was warm enough before he gently placed her in the water. He followed a moment later as he settled behind her. “I’ll throw the condoms out later.”

“Or you can just give it to the rookies,” she offered, making him laugh.

“Oh, Kisa, that’s generous. But none of them will be able to fit,” he laughed as he let his hand rest on her stomach.

She laughed with him. “An even better reason to give it to them,” she said as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Tell them they’re too small for you.”

He laughed louder as he nodded. She truly was the one for him. “I’ll toss them out like confetti.”

“You do that, big boy,” she smiled and rested her head back against his shoulder. She hummed when he kissed her cheek and he smiled to himself before he lathered a cloth up with Kat’s vanilla bodywash and began to wash her up. He was gentle as he ran the cloth over her; he was always so gentle, always cherishing her body, thankful for every time she let him touch her.

He started with her arms as he went up to her shoulders before he dipped under her arms and down her chest. He paid special attention to her chest as he washed her, and when he smiled at her whimper, she gave his chest a shove. His laugh made her chest warm and he held the cloth in his hand as he looked at her, so incredible in love with her.

Once they were both clean, he helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. They both brushed their teeth before they used the bathroom and Andrei helped Kat to bed, her towel forgotten on the floor in favour of his arms.

She could still feel his cum leaking out of her, but it only made her smile as she snuggled closer, a piece of him still buried inside her.

[joons]

This may be a prickly subject, and I'm sorry if so. But I'm trying to learn more about Elvis, and every time I bring him up to people I know, they try to tell me he was this terrible person, and point me toward Priscilla's book, the movie made on it, and the discourse. Idk if you've talked about it on here (I tried searching your blog but couldn't find anything on it). If you're willing, I'd love to hear your take on it so I can see a more nuanced view.

The film Priscilla was greenlit roughly a month after Priscilla herself was informed that she was close to becoming financially insolvent in 2022. With a business partner, Brigitte Kruse, who allegedly helped broker the film deal, she established a limited liability company called Priscilla Presley Partners that was supposed to use her image and likeness to create several lines of merchandise to coincide with the film's release. That business partner is now suing Priscilla because she did not have the rights to her image or likeness, or any ability to use the Presley name, because she had already sold all of those rights and was no longer considered in good standing with Graceland or Elvis Presley Enterprises. The entire business deal, then, according to the lawsuit, was built on her misrepresentation of how much her image was worth.

The deal between the two of them fell apart after Riley Keough, Lisa Marie's daughter and Priscilla's granddaughter, settled with Priscilla to give her a lump sum of $1 million from Lisa Marie's estate and yearly amounts of $100,000. Priscilla sued very shortly after Lisa Marie's death because she thought Lisa Marie's signature on a will had been forged because Priscilla was not included in it. All of the assets were supposed to go directly to Lisa Marie's son, Benjamin Keough, who died in 2020, and her three daughters, two of whom are still teenagers. Now, part of those assets have been claimed by Priscilla and her other son, Navarone, who has no connection to the Presley family and has stated he is glad Lisa died.

Four months before Lisa's death, Lisa wrote to Sofia Coppola and made it clear she had strong concerns about the Priscilla film and was suspicious of the intentions behind it:

"As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character. I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father. ... I will be forced to be in a position where I will have to openly say how I feel about the film and go against you, my mother and this film publicly."

Lisa was enormously grateful for efforts put into 2022's Elvis to find her father's soul and to restore his dignity in a world that often turns him and his family into a joke:

"You can feel and witness Baz’s pure love, care, and respect for my father throughout this beautiful film, and it is finally something that myself and my children and their children can be proud of forever."

It is such a strong and powerful statement, to see how much Lisa valued family, not just her father but her own children and their legacy, and how willing she was to speak up no matter what was going on in her personal life to say what was right. On this and many other things, Lisa and Priscilla's values have rarely been in alignment. A friend and EPE business associate, Joel Weinshanker, said of her, "Lisa couldn't be bought, she couldn't be pushed. If she felt that something wasn't in Elvis' best interest, it was never about money. And she really is the only Presley that you could say that about."

Priscilla, though, has adjusted her stories about her time with Elvis almost every time she discusses it. For a quick example, she said in her book, which was released in 1985, that Elvis insisted she do her hair and makeup a certain way, that he had control over her look and would get upset if she didn't dress how he wanted. But in an interview with Ladies' Home Journal in 1973, she said that she made a deliberate choice to attend makeup school so that she could learn how to style herself, and that it was her idea to wear big, black hair and big, black eyeliner. She said she was embarrassed for going overboard. She said, "I wish that Elvis had said something, but he must have liked it because he never commented." This lines up with recollections from Patti Parry, a platonic friend of Elvis' and a hairstylist, who said Priscilla always wanted Patti to do her hair in a "big boombah," but that Priscilla would then get upset when Elvis didn't notice or didn't like it.

These changes are impossible not to notice if you follow her for any length of time. At the film premiere, she said it felt just like watching her life and said she was consulted on everything, since she was an executive producer. After the film came out, she said she couldn't understand why Coppola had changed so much about the story and misrepresented events. In the '70s, she said she and Elvis lived almost totally separate lives, that she came and went as she pleased, and that she loved this freedom. Later, she said she felt completely stifled and trapped and never left the house, even though she had friends she went out with all the time. In 2019, she tweeted a forceful denial about a National Enquirer story: "This is the Enquirer folks... please don't believe everything you read. ... Never planned on being buried next to Elvis. What will they come up with next?" But part of her settlement demands in her lawsuit against Riley in 2023 asked "to be buried next to Elvis." This year, she said in two separate interviews that Lisa was with her when Elvis died and that Priscilla had to break the news to her, despite the fact that Lisa was at Graceland when it happened. She has said she gave Elvis the idea to wear belts on his jumpsuits, to have a lightning bolt as his logo, to sing "An American Trilogy," though none of that is true. She retells the story about forcing Elvis to burn all of his spiritual books to prove he loved her as an almost funny anecdote about debrainwashing him, while Elvis later said it was the worst thing he ever agreed to, a desperate attempt to make her happy by giving up the things he valued the most. (For the record, this is my opinion about their relationship on both sides: thinking they could change themselves and each other to make it work. It never did.)

Every secondhand Elvis account has to be treated lightly and only valued for its consistency with known facts and other witnesses. I try to give enormous benefit of the doubt to anyone in the Elvis world because they often only have partial knowledge of what Elvis may have been thinking at any given time, and there are numerous examples of people who were taken advantage of by unscrupulous journalists who changed the story they wanted to tell. But Priscilla's stories sometimes are not even consistent with her own statements, which makes them very poor options indeed to base anything on. However careful we are about noting potential biases and inaccuracies in other memoirs, we have to be triply, quadruply careful with anything in which Priscilla involves herself because she has a vested interest in generating discourse today in order to make money. Unfortunately, Priscilla has a habit of stifling other accounts or making sensationalized statements each time there is a possibility that she will lose some of the cachet that comes with being an Elvis Source—after Elvis' death, when she believed she was going to inherit his airplane and disinvited everyone that Vernon said could fly in it to his funeral; when she sued the parents of one of Elvis' ex-girlfriends after he died because he had allowed them to live rent-free in a house he bought for them; when she claimed that Elvis wanted to reunite with her before his death, despite the fact that he was engaged to someone else and told many people he couldn't see a reunion ever happening with her; before Vernon's death, when she convinced him to make her an executor of the Presley estate until Lisa came of age; after Lisa came of age, when she convinced Lisa to let her stay on as partner; when Lisa accused Priscilla of misspending Lisa's money, during which time anonymous sources cropped up to say Lisa was in debt and drug-addled; when Priscilla was removed from her position as an EPE spokesperson but kept collecting $900,000 a year from the company; when Lisa died, and Priscilla sued once she learned she wasn't in the will; when Priscilla was no longer associated with EPE and decided to do another adaptation of a book that she has since recanted parts of and has contradicted before and after its release.

When Priscilla thinks there is a threat to her image and position, she does new interviews and projects to muddy the waters and stir public interest, whether it is true or false, positive or negative, laudatory or defamatory. She gets corrected by Elvis' surviving family members, girlfriends, friends, and fans, but these stories do not get the same reach no matter how much they are backed by contemporaneous documents and witnesses, or how many resources there are to educate the public on how Elvis' and Priscilla's attitudes about marriage and relationships changed—along with the rest of society—between 1960 and 1970.

I think almost any single-source project is not going to advance our understanding of Elvis in any way because no one individual can speak for him, and we are kind of obligated to include all the context we can in order to appreciate his character, his successes and failures, flaws and virtues—and to treat both himself and those around him as fully three-dimensional people who have their own blind spots. Priscilla is far too aware of her own image, and far too willing to change it to suit the audience, to be particularly valuable here.

She is next scheduled to appear at the Lexington (Kentucky) Comic & Toy Con.

[thecruellestmonth]

Honestly really curious about the “Jason feel triggered by Dick’s kindness thing” if you feel like elaborating?

Every betrayal begins with trust. Jason Todd trusts Dick Grayson, and so Dick is a glowing, ticking timebomb.

-The Past-

Dick and Jason have history, not all of it good. Not all of it bad.

Nightwing: Year One

Batman #416 // The New Teen Titans (1984) #31

Skipping the early years all the way to the Red Hood era, Dick is someone who pretty consistently tries to give Jason a chance. Dick keeps up his guard and doesn't trust blindly, but he also tries to listen to Jason, reach out to him, and even work together when possible. Although Jason is an enemy, although it'd be much easier to believe the worst, Dick still generally chooses to keep his heart and mind open.

Outsiders #44-46 (2007), written by Judd Winick. When Jason obtains information that could free an innocent man from prison, he chooses to turn to Nightwing for help. In turn, Dick also chooses to believe in Jason.

Nightwing 2021 Annual, written by Tom Taylor. Despite (falsified) video evidence of Red Hood committing a murder, Dick doesn't jump to assume the worst in Jason. Dick chooses to trust and verify.

As Red Hood, Jason doesn't really like to ask favors or depend on others. Yet Nightwing tends to show up and help him anyway.

Now if Jason were healthy, then Dick's kindness would be comforting and reassuring. But in Jason's experiences, the most crushing pain comes from the people he's supposed to trust the most.

Catherine Todd, Willis Todd, police officers, social workers, a schoolteacher, Sheila Haywood, Bruce Wayne. Those people were supposed to protect Jason—those people ended up hurting him. After these experiences, Jason has become fixated on anticipating others' behavior (look up "fortune telling" as a cognitive distortion). Dick has become the latest source of safety. And so Dick's kindness is a trigger, as Jason anticipates more betrayal and pain.

-Dreams-

Jason's dreams have implied two things about his inner feelings:

1) Jason trusts Dick in ways that he no longer allows himself to trust Bruce—in his dreams, Dick is the first one who shows up for him when he's scared. Dick is the one who anticipates Jason's questions without being asked, and notices the fears that Jason tries to suppress.

2) Jason fears Dick is going to betray him, reject him, humiliate him. Because Dick is in a position where he can hurt Jason, then past experience says he inevitably will hurt Jason.

Examples:

Nightwing #121 (written by Bruce Jones, AKA the infamous tentacle monster arc) - Jason has been ingested by a mutating alien tentacle monster (long story). He dreams that Dick is in the darkness with him—but Dick mocks Jason for hoping that Dick would care to rescue him.

Truth & Justice #11 (written by Trammell) - When Jason has a fear toxin-induced nightmare of being buried alive again, Dick is the one who appears at his graveside and offers him help. However, the nightmare Dick then proceeds to ridicule Jason and attack his worth.

Task Force Z #7 (written by Rosenberg) - Jason has a nightmare of being surrounded by enemies attacking him. The nightmare culminates in the scariest part when Nightwing and Batgirl (Babs)—his older sibling figures—make him feel like a little Robin again, and tell him that all his efforts are just making everything worse.

DC vs. Vampires #6 (2022), a vampire apocalypse Elseworld written by Tynion & Rosenberg

Now Elseworlds (alternate universe) comics aren't canon to the main universe, but can still offer possible insight into characterization… In DC vs Vampires #6, Jason tells Dick (who has revealed himself as an evil vampire): "I always knew someday you'd screw up worse than anyone." Yet up until the moment when Dick reveals himself as an evil vampire, Jason never has a rational reason to anticipate that. So either Jason is just now lying to cover up his own shame for having misplaced his trust yet again, or Jason really has been harboring fears that Dick would betray him.

-The Present-

Circling back to recent happenings in the main universe: Task Force Z #8 (2022). Jason is behaving very suspiciously on a solo mission. Dick wants to know why—whether the greater good is at stake, or whether Jason is in trouble and needs help. And so Dick asks Jason to have a reasonable conversation... to which Jason responds by punching him and running away. Just the slightest suggestion of misgivings on Dick's part, and Jason chooses fight and flight. Another turn of the cycle, and Jason leaves the family circle again as quickly as he rejoined.

Task Force Z #8 (2022), written by Rosenberg

So Jason does cherish his brotherhood with Dick… but Jason is also watchful for the tiniest possible warning signs that Dick could hurt him, so he can cut off that bond before it can be used against him.

Dick Grayson is irresistibly trustworthy. Jason can't stop himself from trusting Dick. That's exactly why he can't trust Dick.

[ao3-top-batfam-ships-bracket]

Hi, prev anon venting about the Timkon vs Batjokes poll here: would actually find it very interesting to read some analysis on the rising anti mentality, actually. I've been in fandom for a long time, so I do remember when it wasn't like this, and for a while I was like "it's fine, just block and move on, don't engage, it's fine". But IS it fine?? Fans of more complex and not easily digestible ships... we block and ignore and create our own little niches, but at this point I've seen too many cases of shippers saying they're AFRAID of publically liking something darker just because they might get harassed. This shit is getting genuinely harrowing to real alive people, to the point where some poor fans actually buy the bullshit of "you're a bad person if you like That Bad Ship" as if thought crimes exist and we're in the damn 18th century. It's definitely worth studying this phenomenon in fandom because then maybe we can figure out how to fix this? Fandom is supposed to be fun... Lol, really long way of saying that those texts would be cool to see, thank you guys!

Sure!

Here's a huge library of sources about media literacy, lgbtq+ issues, fandom and fan culture. We definitely recommend checking it out!

Under the cut is the list of articles focused specifically on the phenomenon of antishipping. Please keep in mind that some of these articles are master's theses or doctoral dissertations and that we didn't fully read all of them. This is just a general list of what we've found.

Aburime, S. (2021). The cult structure of the American anti. Transformative Works and Cultures, 36.

Aburime, S. (2022). Hate narratives, conditioned language and networked harassment: A new breed of anti-shipper and anti-fan–antis. Journal of Fandom Studies, 10(2-3), 135-155.

Bradburn, M. (2023). Fans Like Us: Anti-Shipping, Othering, and the Reauthoring of Fandom (Master's thesis, The University of North Carolina at Charlotte).

Drouin, R. A. (2021). 'Fans are Going to See it Any Way They Want': The Rhetorics of the Voltron: Legendary Defender Fandom. Bowling Green State University.

Larsen, V. (2021). It makes me, a minor, uncomfortable. Media and Morality in Anti-Shippers’ Policing of Online Fandom.

Salsabila, J. A., & Sulhin, I. (2024). Social Media And Moral Panic: Examining The Case Of Antis Fandom On Social Media X. Eduvest-Journal of Universal Studies, 4(5), 4138-4150.

Stone, A. A. (2023). The Antagonistic Anatomy of Anti-shippers: A Thematic Analysis. City University of New York John Jay College of Criminal Justice.

Urbańczyk, A. (2022). Finding a Dead Dove in the Refrigerator. The Anti-Shippers’ Call for Exclusion of Sensitive Content as a Means of Establishing Position in the Field of Fan Production. Przegląd Kulturoznawczy, 53(3), 404-420.

(Also, adding this screenshot of the table of contents from Larsen's article because it's very funny.)

[justjasper]

Creation of the Pan Flag

Copied (with grammar/spelling mistakes) from my twitter thread about it for posterity.

I was going to do this for Pride weekend but you know, life, so: I wanted to talk about a thing. I created the #pansexual flag, a thread.

Back in 2010, I was 20 and tumblr was my main social playground. I was active in various spheres, and I was learning.

I'd been IDing as bi since I was 13, but moved away from bi as an identifier and took up pansexual soon after discovering the term, bc I felt it fit better.

This is mainly bc the simplicity of pan being defined as attraction to any/all genders was extremely appealing to someone really coming into this new way of expressing their orientation like tumblr allowed. It felt right for how I wanted to relate to and express my orientation.

The bi communities I had access too often saw heavy discussion related to attraction parametres of "bi" - convos at the time I didn't really recognise for what they were: bi people working hard to define bisexuality on their terms, tackling intra-community transphobia, (cont)

(cont) and developing within a social space where more expansive gender experiences and identities were becomes more well known and understood.

My switch of labels was about finding something that felt truly right for me, but it would be dishonest to pretend the decision wasn't impacted by the politics and "discourse" I was involved in at the time.

There was no popular pan flag, and the offerings were frankly... ugly. To me. Various shades of purple, P letters, P symbols incorporating gender symbols, infinity symbols. They didn't feel consistent with the other pride flags.

So on a whim, I decided to design one. I designed it to be pretty, honestly. That was a primary function of it, to have s/t I liked to represent my identity. No point pretending I was trying to be super innovative and deep: I wanted something pretty to plaster on my blog.

Pink, yellow, blue. A strong magenta, a strong gold yellow, and a light cerulean. The pink not too purple, the yellow not too bright, the blue not too cyan. Hex FF1B8D, FFD900, 1BB2FF.

Pink and blue, because of their gendered traditions, and yellow, a generally non-gendered colour, to represent nonbinary folks etc.

I created it anonymously, on a side blog away from my main handle. I was already running LGBTLaughs which was proving very popular in tumblr and didn't want to monopolise queer blog space, I suppose.

I didn't expect it to take off. It proved popular on tumblr, and for a few years the flag kept getting added to the Wikipedia 'pansexual' page and then removed. Eventually it snowballed and ended up in use well beyond tumblr.

As I've got older I've realised a lot of people would be interested in knowing this part of modern queer history, and more about modern flag creation in general, and that it's worth documenting. Not for credit so much as for posterity.

So, that's that. The first time I saw a pansexual flag in real life at my city's Pride parade I may have had a little cry.

Twitter Drama

Best viewed on the original twitter thread, for the full documentation (I may update this with fuller documentation down the line) but here's a rundown of drama surrounding the flag.

First, to set the stage:

posted about designing the pan flag

said i was cool with bi/pan lesbians

said i was cool with kink at pride

Thus followed, in varying intensity 2020-2022:

misgendering

suicide bait

general harassment/pile-on

"called out" on r/pansexuals

blasted on sapphics for satan (fb)

now sworn enemy of of lesbian kpop avi twitter

claims the original pan flag was transphobic in meaning

multiple "new" pan flags designed to displace the one i designed

claims i stole the flag from a medieval indian kingdom, and subsequent vandalisation of wikipedia for the actual state of kerala

vandalisation of the wiki page for the pan flag, resulting in it having to be locked

[blorbocedes]

Hi there, I might be kind of obsessed with the idea of rbr charles or rbr lestappen so I need to hear the thoughts of some people who might not be in the "lestappen gate 2023" bubble as I am :)) Do you think this can actually happen and become reality? (After all Charles is better of with rbr than ferrari, that's for sure.)

And please be honest. Thank you!

in my opinion, it's not happening babes x

redbull have never had 1-2 teammate finish before this year. ever. it doesn't make sense to fire the driver who finished 2nd in the championship which is exactly where you want him. if checo's lawyers were worth any salt im sure he had a stipulation like you can't fire me for this unless you're willing to PAY pay. checo has a contract til 2024 which redbull is willing to play out. if you've heard newey, he said next year's car is supposed to be even better 🤞 somehow

if checo completely forgets how to drive next year and the grid is super competitive, I can see him being midway switched into the season which redbull is known to do -- but they would do it with someone internally, like they did with kyvat and max, or alex and pierre. as in, they'd be looking at daniel or yuki, since liam lawson is already waiting in the wings.

now 2025 is the Great Unknown, many contracts are expiring apart from max's. here's why it doesn't make sense for charl to go to redbull in 2025: regulations change in 2026. presumably redbull is gonna be fucked by it, like they were fucked by 2013 reg change or merc was fucked by 2022. both maxywaxy and horner have raised some concerns about the reg change. they're getting Ford as their new engine partner, with no clue how that's gonna effect the car -- cause the current Honda is what they're winning the championships with. we can expect redbull domination until 2025, but after that it's anyone's game. so if charles is signing with redbull in 2025, he's coming into a very strong car and a team that's been centred around 1 driver for 9 years at that point. and that's his one chance for sure to fight for the championship. he doesn't even get 1 season's grace period of acclimatising as max's teammate because he doesn't know what 2026 regs will do to the car, if he has another shot. that's a lot of pressure, where even p2 is seen as a failure.

one of the reasons charles is so highly rated is because he puts up a fight against max, like the first half of last year when the Ferrari was faster, or this year when the redbull is slow on certain tracks. if charles moves to redbull, p2 is the MINIMUM of what he's expected. look at how fans do not rate any of max's teammates, cause unless you beaten him it doesn't count. everything chal does in redbull will be held with max's yardstick measure, a team where max has been longer, the only car max has had to drive while charles needs to adjust to it.

I don't think anyone is unbeatable, lewis wasn't, max isn't. but max is the best driver in that redbull.

redbull doesn't want or need 2 drivers fighting for the championship. they need a competent second driver. the valtteri or mark webber buffer. charles is very much the face of ferrari and regarded as the better driver, why would he go to redbull to play max's second fiddle? charles has world champion ambitions, redbull already has a world champion they're happy with -- why invest in another very expensive driver? when they can get a more willing team player, or even look for a younger talent they can move to the seat for 2028? redbulls favouritism predicates on performance, so if charles outperforms max you can expect redbull to be in "let them race" mode, like they did when rookie max outperformed daniel. but that means charles only has 2025, his very first year in redbull, to not only adjust as max's teammate but also beat him.

finally, we don't know if charles wants to move to redbull. we know he loves ferrari, for better or for worse. before max's extension to 2028, charles got the longest ever f1 contract extension with ferrari -- and that's before charles had anything to his name beyond being called predestined.

you've seen how the mclaren went from p19 p20 earlier this season to genuine podium contenders. this is the kind of magic turnaround every team is hoping for. if mclaren are championship contenders next year, every team will know you can change shit up in only 1 year. that's sunk cost fallacy if charles makes a high risk little reward move to redbull and suddenly the ferrari is a championship contender.

the tifosi love him, he wants to win a championship with ferrari, he already got a taste of what it feels like by winning Monza and the first half of 2022 season. I truly think as long as ferrari will have him, and as long as charles can endure, they're in this marriage of misplaced devotion. because the love and childhood dream is so strong for him. seb didn't leave the team until they fired him, you think he wouldn't waste another decade in the ferrari if they'd have him? and that was a 4x wdc.

If you enjoy lestappengate, if you want to speculate on it -- go forth and find your peace and joy. that's none of my business. it doesn't make sense to me, but that doesn't mean it can't make sense to you.

[defilerwyrm]

May i ask how's the recovery process after gender affirming surgeries?

If you mean how's it going now: my last surgery was in 2022 so at this point I'm 100% healed up. I was SUPPOSED to get my implants in December 2023 but my insurance company has been fucking me over at every turn so that's still on hold.

If you mean how was it at the time:

Top surgery (2018) was pretty easy for me since I have a desk job. I stayed with family in town for the first 2 weeks, during which time I basically did nothing but sleep, wake up long enough to use the toilet, take a dry shower, eat something, take more pain meds, then go back to sleep. I had 4 weeks off work, so after that I was a little sore and still confined to button-down shirts because I couldn't raise my arms above shoulder level; then I went back to work and all was normal for the next month. But...

Because I am an unlucky son of a bitch, I had a rare complication: I developed a seroma that dehysced (i.e. a hole opened up along my suture line that leaked large amounts of greasy, bright orange fluid made up of lymph and blood), which was not painful at all but was absolutely disgusting and very alarming to experience—but not a medical emergency or anything, and was easily fixed with a revision surgery. I took another 2 (I think?) weeks off work and it's been fine ever since. The left side of my chest is a little funny but I don't really care, it was fully worth it. Please note that I did not have drains. If you have drains, you're even LESS likely to have this problem.

Hysterectomy (2019) was much the same: I slept through the first two weeks and spent the next 2 in a recliner with an ice pack on my lower belly, playing a lot of Stardew Valley and getting into Critical Role. I was lucky enough to live with a friend who loves cooking. I ate a lot of soup. The soreness wasn't that bad, but I have a policy of staying ahead of the pain by using timers for how often I should be taking them. The worst part of it was the pain meds, tbh, because I really don't like the way oxycodone makes me feel; at the same time, I'm grateful for that fact because it keeps me from forming a habit.

Phalloplasty etc (2021) was kinda rough to start. I had 3 months off work that time. Slept through the first 2 weeks as usual. But for the first 3 weeks total I had a suprapubic catheter in and man I fuckin' hate being cathed. I felt like I needed to pee at all times, even immediately after draining the cath bag. Awful. Learning to pee standing up was...let's just say I did a lot of laundry and cleaning, lol. This was made worse by the fact that I had two fistulae (holes that go through the urethra all the way to the outside)—like I said, I've got bad luck. One of them healed up all on its own, like most of them do. The other one required a revision 8 months later, which meant being cathed again for a while, SIGH. But back to post-op for phallo: I had physical therapy for my left arm to make sure I kept a good range of motion; I kept the graft bandaged with daily gentle cleanup, application of ointments, and rebandaging; and had to take dry showers for the first uhhhhh. 2 weeks at least, maybe 3 or 4? After I got the cath out, things were MUCH easier. I was just kinda vaguely tired and sore and spent most of my time lying down. My libido came back at the start of the 2nd month, which was frustrating af because it wasn't till the start of the 3rd month that I was healed up enough to do anything about it (but once I could, holy FUCK it was incredible).

[nothorses]

hey! i need a teensy tiny baby bit of advice that maybe you could help with!!

i’m 17, and i got my name and gender marker legally changed in 2022. aside from how long it takes to change some documents, i’ve been able to scrub my deadname from existence.

BUT!! I have some health issues—that i won’t go into—, meaning that i go to a shit ton of doctors for different reasons. i also have access to my medical records + summaries from each appointment, and all of them say clear as day “female”.

and i genuinely don’t know what to do about it?? like, i’m not even on hormones, but every time i’ve gone to an endocrinologist they put female on my chart?? and it’s just super confusing??

if you could help that would be super cool and great!! if you can’t, also totally cool!! i just thought id ask a trans creator on here who’s been through the whole ringer!!

That could be for a number of reasons, some of which I probably wouldn't know about! My first instinct is to ask your insurance about it: do they still have your gender marker as "F"? Why? Since you say it's across all your healthcare documents, insurance seems like the most likely culprit here.

Mine was resistant to changing my gender marker because I would lose access to coverage for things like pap smears, and I ended up telling them to change it anyway (I was years out from needing another pap smear, and the mismatch of my gender marker through insurance vs. my psychiatrist's office meant insurance wouldn't cover my ADHD meds, which I needed ASAP). Then I contacted the state healthcare authority's office and filed a discrimination complaint. They sided with me. To my knowledge, I should be able to get coverage for any medical procedures a doctor said I need.

I'm in Washington, where the state is pretty good about trans issues- particularly when it comes to healthcare- so that may have been why this worked for me, but it could be worth a shot regardless (there might be a trans ally in the process somewhere who advocates for you, despite overall state disposition). I also have state health insurance, and we have laws here that require the state to cover trans medical needs, so that could also be a factor in why this worked for me. Again, worth a shot, just know there's a chance it goes differently for you.

If it isn't insurance, it's probably your doctor's office(s), in which case you may just need to call them or talk to whoever is at the desk when you next go in. Tell them you've noticed your chart lists you as "female", explain you've had your gender marker legally changed, and ask them if they can change it to match what's on all of your legal records now. If they try to say it's for insurance reasons and it's supposed to be for your benefit, well, you've already talked to your insurance at this point, so you can shoot that excuse down (you may even be able to argue that because your insurance lists you as "male", the mismatch in your doctor's office records actually puts you in jeopardy of losing coverage).

My guess is that it's insurance, but it's probably one or the other. It might take some calls to figure out, but hopefully you're able to figure out what's going on & get it resolved!

Best of luck!!

[mildmayfoxe]

big fan of your romance novel complaint posts (love to see a fellow hater living it up) but i’m also curious if there are any you would recommend? not looking for anything in particular, just would love to hear your thoughts as someone else with nitpicky reading habits and a taste for trash

ok hello. i left you hanging for a FULL week and for that i am sorry but i wanted to be able to have some time to sit down and type out a real answer to which the short version is YES of course there are several that i have enjoyed!! my disclaimer is that i almost solely read gay romance so if you are looking for lesbian or even straight reccs i don't have much for you (although i will put a couple at the end anyway). hopefully something in this list is interesting to you or at least interesting to someone else! links are mostly to goodreads. break bc i'm gonna write too much

-kj charles is one of my fave authors in this genre bc they're all pretty reliable and there's a ton of them. they're all historical fiction and usually there's at least one murder- she's good at keeping a plot going while developing a romance. often supernatural or magical elements. sometimes cults! i've read almost all of the books she's written and have enjoyed them all

-charlie adhara wrote a really incredible werewolf series that i loved, the first of which is the wolf at the door. this is one of the only series i've read which keeps the emotional stakes up through the whole thing & kept me interested in a relationship after it was established bc sooo many series get boring the second the leads get together. i actually read the first book of the spin-off series (a pack of lies) first which is technically possible but i don't recommend bc i was like "wow they're really throwing me in here. i love it" and then i read the first series and i was like "oh i was supposed to know all this stuff." but i actually liked the dynamic between that couple better and i'm suffering every day because the next one still doesn't come out til 2025 and i read it in 2022. also worth noting that this (the original series) is cops-ajacent (~federal special agents~) and one of the characters is really prejudiced at the beginning & imo doesn't have enough character growth before it's waved away but if you can ignore that it's really good. mysteries! werewolves!

-speaking of werewolves (i could suggest several but i'll keep it to two) tj klune's wolfsong ends up at the top of a lot of gay werewolf novel lists (i'm keeping tabs) and there's a good reason. i enjoyed it a lot. made me kind of sad which is always a good sign to me. the writing voice was very fresh and novel at first but i did find it a little grating by the end so i've put off starting the second book in the series (it's also about a different couple which was disappointing) but i will get around to it. i enjoy tj klune in general although his recent stuff has a very different vibe than this and lightning struck heart is very 2015 in a bad way imo

-bone rider by j fally is a standalone that really delighted me. the russian mob? aliens? vaguely western? possession? throuple? it's got it all. very fun

-ok speaking of westerns there's this other series called magic & steam (yes it's steampunk. sorry. it's very silly) that starts with the engineer. a federal agent is sent to a town to apprehend a ~madman engineer~ except he runs into an infamous outlaw in the process. and the outlaw is really sexy. and probably why i enjoyed the series so much. the series also keeps them apart a lot in a way that i enjoy- i love when things take a long time. it's ongoing so this is another one that i keep checking for updates on

-i've read a lot of stuff by nr walker and they tend to be VERY hit or miss for me but one of my faves is evolved which is almost pure smut. it's about a sex robot that gains sentience. what more do i need to say. she also wrote a three-book series about an amnesiac that made me cry cry cry. and her cowboy (australian rancher) series is pretty ok. i could go through a list and tell you which novels of hers aren't worth it and which ones are good; i've read most of them

-salt magic skin magic by lee welch was a big surprise to me. cool magic, good folklore, fairies in there too. historical. big kj charles vibes which makes sense bc she edited it. welch also wrote a book called seducing the sorcerer which i had more mixed feelings about but had magic in it that i think about OFTEN (the horses)- that one's about an imposing sorcerer and a rundown groom cum handyman. and they're in their FORTIES!!! 🥳🥳🥳 (i love when books are not about 23 year olds)

-another one with a magic system i enjoyed was magician by kl noone. this was the first book i read by this author and i liked it but generally i find their books are too "nice" for me. i'm in the middle of one right now that i started months and months ago that i keep trying to go back to and it's sooo rough for me. but this one and the twelfth enchantment are pretty ok

-emily tesh wrote a duology of silver in the wood and drowned country that i loved because i am suuuuch a sucker for a wild man/green man story. really good. haunting! evocative! kj charles has a green man story too which was actually the first thing i read of hers (spectred isle)

-i complained about the monsterfucker book i was reading a while back but despite that i will also recommend the series it's from: lily mayne's monstrous, which starts with soul eater. are they messy? yes. are they repetitive? yes. are the monsters usually disappointingly humanoid? yes. are a lot of them about the military? also yes. so we're starting off on a bad foot. but the world building is interesting and there's LOTS of kinds of monsters and most of them were pretty fun. the one i just read (#7) was the worst one of the bunch though imo. and i have problems with #6. but 1 2 and 5 were good

-ok i should do a quickfire round. honeytrap: about two enemy agents during the cold war. put it off for a long time bc i didn't love that but it takes place over a VERY long period of time which is always interesting to me. zero at the bone: about a hitman who needs to protect a witness to a mob hit. really strong start but fell off a bit in the middle to the end imo.

-you'll notice a lot of these have subgenres of like fantasy historical supernatural etc but here's some regular contemporaries. a lot of these are about sad guys bc those are my favorite. best laid plans: hardware store owner helps a guy fix his house. in the middle of somewhere: same author actually. guy moves to small town to work at a college. mr jingle bells: this is a christmas one. bad title. fake dating. part of the reason i think i liked it so much is because i expected it to be awful but it was actually pretty good. good emotional stakes. published 2021 but feels very 2014. ignore that part. work for it: i rated this five stars but actually don't remember much what it was like. i think they were both really sad which i love. give me big emotions and i eat them right up with a spoon. i should read it again

-OK now i've got some straight & lesbian options. talia hibbert's brown sisters series is good and cute. she also wrote work for it, above. the unhoneymooners is the first real Romance Novel that i read and it really surprised me because i had fun! previously i had kind of written off romance novels as not for me but this kicked off a reading habit that is still going strong (primarily reading romance novels). i read this in 2020 so it might not be as good as i remember. as for lesbian options olivia waite has a series that i enjoyed that's also historical, and a friend of mine really enjoyed delilah green doesn't care (but i haven't read that one myself). and while not really romances i will always be a sarah waters fan: you may recognize her as the author of fingersmith, which is the novel park chan-wook's movie the handmaiden is based on. if you haven't seen the movie or read the book i recommend both. her books are very dramatic lesbian historical fiction; they don't always have happy endings but they're all very good

ok i think that's the end! regular disclaimer that romance is generally not a genre notable for Good Writing so a lot of these are just things i had fun with or just stuck out in my memory for having fun conceits etc. i can't guarantee that any of these are actually good, especially because this is a list solely based on my own taste and bad memory. would love to hear anybody's thoughts and/or if anybody has recommendations for ME!!! this post took me over three hours to write! crazy!

[sgiandubh]

Cait has been to Nepal as model for a photoshoot and saw the Everest. What she did say she'd want to visit is Mongolia. As for Sam, the Everest movie is dead. What he's looking to do is narrate an Everest documentary. Problem is, it's been done very well before to be worth it except to sell to his most ardent fans who buy everything he sells.

Dear Everest Anon,

She saw the Himalayas, from the lower mountain zone in Dhulikhel - not the Everest. That would be exactly the same thing as me pretending to see Mycenae from my terrace in Athens - same distance -, albeit I'll give you this: different topography.

And yes, you are correct - still nasty, though - she has been to Nepal and found that watching the sun rise over those majestic mountaintops was a 'deeply spiritual' experience.

It's all in that January 2022 High Life magazine interview, while she was promoting Belfast, by the way (https://bahighlife.com/stories/outlander-actress-caitriona-balfe-reveals-her-favourite-travel-memories):

I didn't have that quote seared in my brain, though and I remembered it just as I referenced it: a dream/bucket list destination, which is - mind you - exactly what her answer suggests.

As for Mongolia, which I suspect must be a very abstract place to you, this comes from an answer on X, back when she was still doing those cute #AskCait Q&A improv sessions:

It took me five minutes to find it and I remembered it vaguely - Central Asia is a space I know very, very well.

The closest I have ever been to Mongolia - probably way closer than you - was on my Silk Road solo trip, in 2010. Ever since, Switzerland could never compete with the magic of Kyrgyzstan, especially when you wake up in your yurt in Tash Rabat to this view:

This being very much akin to a Mongolian landscape, by the way. Serene and graceful and very, very quiet. And the people are warm, generous and have a wonderful sense of humor. It's only normal to dream of such a place, for a dream it is and nothing less.

So yes, your comment reads like globally correct, although I think your tone could have been more polite: we haven't been properly introduced, you and me.

But then you can't help yourself and spoil it all with your tribe's mandatory and gratuitous S hate moment. Many things have been 'very well done before' and yet they are still being presented, over and over again, just because life and the world change all the time: I suppose you are familiar with the concept?

You know what? Why don't you go to the Himalayas and do your own documentary project on it, Anon? Traveling will do you a hell lot of good and I will be your most ardent promoter.

Until then, which is probably never, I'll just watch his documentary or whatever he would choose to make out of it with great pleasure. You will still be in your armchair, at Clacton-on-Sea, or Weston-super-Mare, or wherever.