#i like to think henry laughed it off seconds later though

[golden--doodler]

Um I don't know if you've ever seen Storks, but why not draw Nate and his father Henry try to teach DD (the baby) how to walk? But it's like she holds onto their pants and they drop down 🤣

(Nate is the little dude wearing a green-and-white shirt with long sleeves, just to avoid any confusion between him and Henry)

Ooh, a doodle request for another fandom?? Yes, I have seen Storks :D

It's been so long since I have, though, and you dug up all the old memories of watching it! I think this family is so cute and hilarious, so this was fun to do.

Sorry this took me so long, I had a lot to do for Boblin Week and getting through the other requests, but this is finally done!

[adrienneleclerc]

A Cinderella Story

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N, a McLaren mechanic, dances with the prince of Ferrari, at a Rolex masquerade charity ball. Charles has no clue who he danced with and is trying to find the girl of his dreams.

Warning: bad writing I guess, spelling and grammatical errors, inaccurate events

A/N: like i said before, I’m new to F1 so I don’t really know what kind of events go on so bear with me, please. Also, thank you so much for liking my other Charles Leclerc one shots, you have no idea how much it means to me that you like them. Y/N’s relationship with the Lando and Oscar is very much like brother and sister. Y/N is younger, mainly because I’m 21, hope all of y’all are okay with that.

Y/N was talking to Lando about his car after the Monaco Free Practice 1. (As a mechanic, she has her hair up)

“I am almost finished fixing your car, I think there’s something missing but it could be that I’m overthinking. You think you can test it out before FP2? That’s allowed, right?” Y/N asked, fishing her bracelet out of her pocket and putting it back on.

“Yeah I can drive it, 10 laps should be enough, yeah?” Lando asked, putting on his race suit and helmet.

“You’re the best, Lando!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I know.” Lando teased as he got in the car.

After the 10 laps, Lando got out of the car, took his helmet off, tied the suit around his waist, and walked to Y/N.

“The car is good, you worry too much, there is a reason why Zak hired you as a mechanic. Listen, I’m going out with the guys from Quadrant, want to come? I’ll invite Oscar too.” Lando said.

“Yeah sure I’ll come, when?” Y/N asked.

“I was thinking after the second practice, we can hit the showers, change, and go straight to the club.” Lando said.

“Okay, sounds good, I’ll go ask Oscar if he wants to come.” Y/N said, she was clearing her stuff and was on her way to talk to Oscar when she bumped into someone. “Que torpe soy, I'm so sorry.” Y/N apologized without looking.

“My fault, chéri, you alright?” Charles asked, looking at Y/N for signs of discomfort.

“Nah I'm good, thank you.” Y/N said flustered, unbeknownst to her, Oscar saw the whole thing go down and he was holding in his laughter. “Don’t you dare, Australia.” Y/N warned.

“Your crush on Leclerc is so obvious, America, it hurts to watch.” Oscar said between laughs.

“Ha ha, like you weren't like this around Lily?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, I was nervous, but I definitely wasn't as bad as you." Oscar said.

"Anyway, Lando invited us to go out after FP2 with the quadrant gang, you coming? Please say yes, Lando is probably going to spend all night talking to Max anyway, I can’t be alone.” Y/N practically begged.

“Yeah sure, I’ll go, you need a few drinks to erase what happened with Leclerc.” Oscar said.

“Awesome! So Zak sent an email saying that he has a surprise for us tomorrow, do you have any idea what that might be?" Y/N asked, showing Oscar the email on her phone, Oscar took her phone to read it better.

"I don't know what it could be about. Anything that needs to be fixed in my car or is it good?" Oscar asked.

"it should be fine, i checked everything with Henry and Bryan (other mechanics), nothings wrong. It’s ready for the second free practice." Y/N said.

“Great. You'll be watching, right?" Oscar asked.

"Of course! Need to make sure my papaya boys get fastest lap." Y/N said.

"And your monegasque too." Oscar teased.

"Don't make me hurt you, Australia." Y/N said.

"You love me too much to do that, America." Oscar said, walking.

"Whatever." Y/N replied.

Two hours later, FP2 started, Y/N was watching everything with the rest of the team, eating chips.

“Is that necessary?” Andrea asked.

“You have no idea how much.” Y/N commented.

FP2 went well, Charles Leclerc got fastest lap. Lando and Oscar took off the helmets and balaclavas, tying their suits around their waists.

“Great free practice, sorry you didn’t get fastest lap though.” Y/N said.

“No your not.” Lando commented.

“Bet you were happy when Leclerc got it.” Oscar said.

“Well I can’t say I wasn’t happy.” Y/N said.

“Alright so let’s start getting ready. Will you drive or am I driving you?” Lando asked.

“I carpooled with Henry, drive me?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah sure. Shit, i can’t, gotta pick up Max.” Lando said.

“I’ll drive you.” Oscar offered.

“Thanks, Australia.” Y/N said. “Now both of you hit the showers, y’all are sweaty.” Y/N said.

After the boys showered, they changed, Y/N changed into something more club appropriate and let her hair down.

Y/N walked to Oscar’s car.

“What took you so long?” Oscar asked.

“Im a girl, guys can wear a shirt and jeans and everyone will freak out, if I wear the same thing, I get told I look crusty.” Y/N said.

“But you just had that outfit with you?” Oscar asked.

“If I learned anything from watching Crazy Rich Asians, you should always have a clubbing outfit and a cocktail outfit with you at all time.” Y/N said, getting into the passenger seat of Oscar’s car. “Lando sent you the address right?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Oscar said. He started the car, they listened to music and talked until they got to the club. They got in, Y/N said hello to everyone with a kiss on the cheek because that’s how her mom raised her. She sat at their booth and Y/N spotted Charles at the bar.

“Bro, Charles is here.” Y/N said, patting Oscar’s arm.

“And? You gonna do something or observe from afar like you always do?” Oscar asked.

“Well…” Y/N started but she saw a woman approach Charles. “I don’t want to interrupt his scintillating conversation.”

“I Don’t understand, you talk to Lando and I just fine.” Oscar commented.

“I was nervous around you guys too, don’t lie. I just got used to y’all, but I never had a crush this huge before, I’ve never been in a relationship, had a first date, or even a first kiss, I’m very inexperienced, okay?” Y/N admitted (guilty).

“So you’re just going to be pining away for him?” Oscar asked,

“Yep.” Y/N said.

The table ordered drinks, designated drivers get 2 drinks max. The night was fun, Lando got to deejay again, Carlos was also there so he joined their group. Since they had free practice 3 tomorrow, they needed to rest up. Oscar dropped Y/N off at her apartment, she changed, washed her face, put on a silk bonnet to protect her hair, and went to sleep.

The next morning, Y/N had her hair in two French braids and wearing her favorite bracelet. She drove to the the track and walked to the Lando’s garage.

“Are you as tired as I look?” Y/N asked.

“No, I feel fine, really.” Lando said,

“Lucky, i had trouble sleeping.” Y/N said. Lando was going to say something else when Zak came into the garage.

“Alright, I have an announcement to make. As you know, F1 is partners with Rolex, so we are invited to Rolex’s masquerade charity ball. It will be on Sunday after the Grand Prix. It starts at 8, it gives you plenty of time to get ready after the race and podium interviews.” Zak said. Everyone was excited.

“Would you give me money to buy a dress? And shoes?” Y/N whispered to Lando.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll go shopping with you.” Lando whispered back.

“This is why I love you.” Y/N teased. Zak walked towards Y/N and Lando went to talk to Oscar.

"Y/N, I need you in the McLaren Technology Centre on Monday." Zak said.

"Really? For what?" Y/N asked.

“For mechanical stuff. We’re planning on creating a new McLaren, you like the creative process, and I still need Henry and Bryan here if we have anything major to fix after the Grand Prix. I already got your ticket, first class too. Don’t miss your flight.” Zak said.

“Of course, I won’t.” Y/N said. Zak gave Y/N her ticket and she started checking the information. Her flight leaves at 3am. “Wait, isn’t this flight a little soon?”

“I know, but I need as many people working on the new McLaren as possible. You’ll only be there for 4 days, then you can relax in Monaco before we go to Canada.” Zak said and he walked away. Lands came back with Oscar and saw Y/N’s worried face.

“Whats wrong, America?” Oscar asked.

“If i go to the Rolex ball thing, I would have to leave before midnight so I have time to change and go to airport in Nice. Oh shit, I have to pack my luggage.” Y/N said.

“Can’t you just skip the ball?” Landon asked.

“Dude, when am I ever going to get invited to theses kind of events? I’m going and you’re taking me shopping.” Y/N said, pointing at Lando.

“Fine, but we’re getting food after. You think we can do it after qualifying?” Lando asked.

“I guess, but you’re calling the store, they know you.” Y/N said. “How do y’all feel about this race?” Y/N asked the boys.

“Max is definitely winning, but hopefully we’ll get on the podium.” Oscar said.

“I believe in you guys, really.” Y/N said before hugging them.

“But you also want Leclerc on the podium.” Oscar said.

“I’m just a girl, leave me alone.” Y/N said,

FP3 and Quali went by fast, no accidents. Max got pole, Charles P2, Oscar P3. During the break between FP3 and Quali, Y/N tried fixing up her Jeep Wrangler Sahara, with Zak’s okay so, of course. Lando texted Y/N the address to the shop and she drove there, parking right next to Lando.

“Alright, love, let’s get you that dress.” Lands said, guiding Y/N into the store with his hand on her lower back. “Hello, we’re looking for an evening dress for her.” Lando told the sales associate.

“Of course, all these dresses right here should be in your size, we have a selection of heels that would go well with these dresses as well.” The sales associate, Ana, said.

“Do you have any dresses in pastel blue?” Y/N asked. Ana started looking through the rack and pulled out a dress that she thought Y/N might like.

“Here you go. Because this dress has a slit, I recommend some tall high heels to elongate your legs. I prefer the platform ones like these.” Ana said, showing Y/N the heels. “Here is a dressing room, I’ll be right outside if you need help zipping it up, okay?” Ana said, handing Y/N the dress and heels.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N said, stepping into the dressing room and getting changed. She got the dress on and sat in the chair to put on the heels. After she strapped on the heels, she tries zipping up the dress, but can’t make it to the top. “Ana, I need help.” Y/N said. Ana pulled the curtain and helped Y/N zip the dress.

“You look beautiful.” Ana said. Y/N walked out of the dressing room, and she looked at Lando, who was on his phone, he looked up and his jaw dropped.

“Wow Y/N, you look great. You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.” Lando said, getting up to get a closer look. He made the motion to have Y/N twirl and she did.

“Not bad for a mechanic, right?” Y/N joked.

“Not bad at all. We’ll take it.” Lando said.

“I’ll change and we’ll be on our way.” Y/N said. Lando unzipped the dress, stopping right above her waist and Y/N unzipped the rest already in the dressing room. She changed, putting the dress on the hanger and the heels in its box, she got out and gave the things to Lando so he could pay.

After paying Lando handed Y/N her things and they walked outside to their cars.

“Thanks again for buy it.” Y/N said.

“Yeah of course. Where do you want to eat though? I’m starving.” Lands said.

“You pick.” Y/N said.

“If you say so.” Lando said. “Just follow me.” Lando got into his car, Y/N got in hers, and she followed Lando to Graziella, an Italian restaurant.

They were seated, Lando had beef tagliata with Gorgonzola sauce and French fries, Y/N had penne alla carbonara (I looked up the restaurant menu to be as accurate as possible). When they finished eating, they went to the parking lot to get their cars.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lando said goodbye, they hugged before driving off to their apartments.

When arriving to her apartment, Y/N started playing music as she packed for a four day trip. She hung her dress right in front of her closet. She finished packing, had a late night snack, and went to bed.

Tonight’s the night, after the Grand Prix with Max P1, Charles P2, and Lando P3, Y/N was getting ready, putting on her dress, her shoes, styling her hair down, and putting on her bracelet. Everything looked good, her luggage was already in her car. She drove to the venue where the ball was taking place, gave her name to the people in charge, and Y/N was given a masquerade mask.

(Choose whichever dress you like better)

Y/N walked in and all eyes were on her. She began fiddling with her bracelet until two guys approached her.

“America, you look great.” Oscar said.

“Thanks, Australia, Lando showed you the picture he took yesterday huh?” Y/N asked.

“He did.” Oscar said.

“I had to show you off. I don’t see you with your hair down that often, you know.” Lando said.

“I’m a mechanic, can’t have my hair in my face.” Y/N commented. “I’m gonna get a drink, okay, I’ll be right back,” Y/N said, she walked to the drink table to get herself some champagne and another guy walked up to her.

“You made quite the entrance, you know. You Commanded the attention of everyone in the room.” The guy spoke, his voice seemed familiar to Y/N but almost everyone in Monaco has a similar voice.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” Y/N feigned an English accent as she curtsied.

“Do you go to these events often?” The guy asked, also sipping champagne,

“Not really, it’s technically a work thing, but this is my first time going to a charity ball.” Y/N replied to the mask stranger. His eyes a beautiful shade of blue-green, his eyes feel so familiar to her, why the hell can’t she figure out who this guy is.

“I’m here for work as well.” The guy replied. They kept talking until a slow song started playing. “Care to dance, chéri?” The guy extended his hand to Y/N

“I’d love to.” Y/N said, taking his hand to dance.

“Baby blue is actually one of my favorite colors.” The guys admitted.

“It’s mine too. I love all shades of blue, but pastel blue is just beautiful.” Y/N said. “So since you’re here for work, what do you do? I’m a mechanic.”

“You’re definitely the prettiest mechanic I ever saw. I’m a driver.” The guys replied. What’s going on in Y/N’s mind is that he’s a driver and has a French accent, it could be Pierre, but he’s with Kika. She’s hoping it’s Charles but she doesn’t want to get disappointed either.

“Thank you, that’s cool that you’re a driver.” Y/N said.

They talked and danced some more, it was all going well until the clock chimed, saying it was 11:55pm.

“Listen, Frenchy, it’s been fun, but I gotta go,” Y/N said, pulling away from him.

“I’m not French, I’m monegasque.” The guy said, the confirmed Y/N’s suspicions. He took off the mask.

“Charles.” Y/N said.

“Yes, I’m Charles Leclerc, what’s your name?” Charles asked, Y/N heard the clock chime again.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go.” Y/N said, she exits the hall and puts the mask on the table before running out the the parking lot to get into her car to drive to her apartment. Charles chased after her but she saw her car leaving. He looked on the ground and he saw the bracelet that she was wearing on the floor.

“I will find out who you are.” Charles said, placing the bracelet in his suit pocket.

Y/N made it to her apartment, parked her car, went upstairs, got changed, and went downstairs to her car but it won’t start.

“Hijo de la chingada, this can’t be happening to me.” Y/N said. She got her luggage out of her car and order an Uber to nice airport,

The car arrived and dropped her off at the airport, she was on time for her flight, everything was good, but Y/N noticed her bracelet was missing.

“Ah, for fucks sake.” Y/N exclaimed as she waited in the terminal for them to call her flight.

Meanwhile Charles got into his Ferrari and drove back to his apartment. When he was home with his dog Leo, he was looking at Instagram to see if anyone posting from the event was the girl he danced with.

"What do you think, Leo? Am i going crazy?" Charles asked the blonde dachshund on his lap. He gets no answer. "Okay, maybe a little, but I had a wonderful time with her."

Charles decided to do the reasonable thing and posted a photo of the charm bracelet he found with the caption "Does this belong to you? Found on the floor of (venue) on May 26th. Contact me if this bracelet is yours." Charles turned off his phone and decided to go to sleep.

The next day, Y/N got off the plane, she turned off the airplane mode on her phone, and that's when she started recieving calls from Lando, she answered.

"Dude, what is wrong with you? I just got off the plane, who died?" Y/N asked, confused why she had so many texts and missed calls from Lando and Oscar.

"Charles posted a photo of your charm bracelet last night. You fucking danced with Charles and you didn't tell me or Oscar? We're happy for you." Lando said. "You should tell him its yours."

"No way, I know i told him i was a mechanic last night, but he is definitely expecting someone as beautiful as Kika, he would totally be disappointed if he finds out it was me." Y/N said, getting an Uber to drive her to the hotel Zak also booked for her.

"You are beautiful, Y/N, honestly, if we weren't friends, i would have flirted with you everyday until you gave me a chance." Lando said.

"Thank you but i can't help but feel how i feel. I gott go, I'm heading to my hotel then i'll go to McLaren, talk to you later." Y/N said.

The four days Y/N was in Woking, Charles was answering DMs of women claiming it was their bracelet. He would follow up with the questions "What do you do for work?" and "What color was your dress?" No one has answered those two questions correctly. Charles was starting to think it was a lost cause and he would never find her. He decided to go out with Pierre and Kika and he brought Leo with him.

"Still haven't found her, Charlie?" Pierre asked.

"No! It has been four days, everyone in my DMs who is claiming the bracelet is not her." Charles said.

"Charles, do you even know this girl's name?" Kika asked.

"I don't, i just have her bracelet and there is no indication of a name or anything that could be useful." Charles said.

"I'm sorry, Charles." Kika said, rubbing his arm.

"I felt we had a connection, even if she did call me frenchy." Charles said.

"Well there isn't a way to shorten 'monegasque' you know." Pierre said.

"Yes, I am aware." Charles said.

It was now the Canadian Grand Prix, Y/N flew with Lando and Oscar obviously. When they landed, they went to their hotel rooms, to leave their stuff and went to the hotel restaurant to order some food. Y/N had her hair down becasue she was not risking a ponytail headache. She was sitting with Oscar while Lando was talking to Carlos. Charles came downstairs and he spotted Y/N with her hair down. It looked remarkably similar to the girl he danced with. She saw Lando with Carlos so he sat right next to Lando.

"Hey Lando, quick question, did Y/N attend the Rolex thing?" Charles asked.

"She did, yeah, why?" Lando asked the monegasque.

"Does this happen to be her bracelet?" Charles asked, pulling out the bracelet from his pants pocket.

"Okay, why are you carrying that around?" Lando asked curiously.

"Just answer the question, Lando." Charles said.

"yes, yes, thats her bracelet." Lando admitted.

It all made sense, Charles started thinking about the first time he met Y/N and she called him 'Frenchy'.

It was Y/N's first day in the paddock and she walked into Charles's garage by accident. She was looking around and she bumped into him, Charles exclaimed something in French.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, frenchy, I'm just a little lost." Y/N said.

"First, I am not French, i am monegasque." Charles said.

"Oh my god, you're Charles Leclerc! Sorry, I'm Y/N, I'm looking for the McLaren garage." Y/N said, holding her hand out for Charles to shake, which he did.

"Its on the other side actually. So why are you here?" Charles asked.

"Oh, I am McLaren's new mechanic." Y/N said.

"Nice to meet you, I'll walk you to McLaren." Charles said.

Charles had a tiny crush on her since that day but Y/N hardly spoke to him so he thought she didn't like him. He wlaked over to the table where Y/N was with Oscar.

"Y/N, can i talk to you for a second?" Charles asked. Y/N looked at Oscar.

"I'm gonna sit with Logan." Oscar said, getting up. Charles took his seat.

"I think this is yours." Charles said, showing Y/n the bracelet.

"Are you disappointed to find out that i was the girl you danced with?" Y/N asked, too shy to look at him. Charles lift her chin with his finger so she could look in his eyes.

"Why would i be disappointed? I don't know if you noticed, amour, but I've like you since you came into my garage by accident." Charles admitted. "Were you disappointed to find out you danced with me? Is that why you rushed out so quickly?"

"No, of course not! I had to go to Woking for some McLaren business and my flight was at 3am so I had to leave to change and have time to go to the airport in Nice. I was so shocked that it was you though, like i was dancing with my celebrity crush the whole night." Y/N said.

"Good to hear I'm your celebrity crush. Let's get this bracelet on." Charles said, opening the bracelet, Y/N held out her wrist, and Charles successfully secured the bracelet on her wrist. "That's better."

"It is. Thank you for finding it, I would have died if i lost it." Y/N said.

"It's no problem. So i was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me, we could go after FP2." Charles suggests.

"I would like that a lot." Y/N said.

"Perfect. Is it alright if i kissed you? I've been imagining this moment for months." Charles said.

"Go ahead." Y/N said. Charles moved her hair behind he ear and kissed her softly. They pulled away. "That was way better than my dreams."

"You dream about kissing me, mon ange?" Charles teasingly asked.

"You imagined kissing me too." Y/N said.

"True, I'm glad i don't have to imagine it anymore though." Charles said, wrapping his arm around Y/N's shoulders as they looked over the menu.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Was it too long? I thought it was okay

[resowrites]

Special Brew - oneshot.

Summary: Henry’s interview gets gatecrashed…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Reader/Wife!OC, Interviewer

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, fake interview, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript reader/OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2221

A/N: Hi folks I know it’s been a while, work’s nuts these days. This is very rushed and was meant to be longer (I wanted to base it on something I’d written previously) but for the sake of just getting something uploaded I decided to post as is. Sorry I can’t post regularly anymore but I hope you enjoy all the same - R x

Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Gifs/pics not my own. Thanks for visiting!

Special Brew - oneshot.

The following is an excerpt from an article that can be read in full here.

— It's at about the halfway mark in my interview with the 41-year-old Hollywood actor, Henry Cavill, when I notice his attention is caught by something offscreen. 

"Where did you get that?" I think I hear 'the fridge, you dickhead,' in reply. He grins. But instead of resuming our discussion about his upcoming role in the rebooted 80's classic, Highlander, he starts gesturing for someone to join him. It fails. So seconds later his partner is pulled onto his lap despite some very loud protestations. He tells her it's her fault for taking his last tin of lager. She tells him she needs it more. What then follows is an almost a four-and-a-half minute squabble - yes I actually timed it - which ends with Henry relinquishing the can on the proviso that if he has to be interviewed, she does as well. I don't take offense but soon wondered if that was premature: 

"Who's interviewing you? The Telegraph?"

"No, The Guardian--"

"Wouldn't the Telegraph be more interested?" He gestures in my direction.

"Well, I assume Mark is all the same!"

"And how long have you been keeping this poor bastard?"

"We've not even been chatting half an hour!" 

"Oh… have you got a second question for him?" I smile. The 35-year-old financier first met the actor in 2015 and they were rumoured to have married in 2022. Not that either of them, his publicist, or even various social media accounts provide much in the way of confirmation. This seems to stem more from a desire for privacy where possible than anything else. Though it must be said, at first glance they make for an incongruous pair. She catches me peering at her still towel-wrapped hair, Celtic jersey, and joggers combo and wastes no time striking first:

"That's a nice shirt--"

"Don't be cheeky, just 'cos you could have made more of an effort--"

"It's my day off! At least I don't look like an undercover policeman." Is she referring to Henry or myself?

"I don't know, stand up," I laugh but he just rolls his eyes. "Has he apologised for Aryglle yet? To be fair that was actually my fault, I wanted a new kitchen." This lays the ground for what is arguably one of the most chaotic interviews I've experienced in a while.

"Do you see what I mean, Mark? It's not that she wouldn't be media trained, it's that she couldn't." Now she rolls her eyes.

"See, he thinks he's being slick by making me look bad--"

"I'm the one who does that?!"

"So he looks better by comparison--"

"Is that right? And what was wrong with Aryglle?!"

"Nothing! It's the best thing you've ever done. Even if you didn't mean for it to be." She coughs to try and cover a laugh. I ask for her thoughts on his most recent box office offering (Guy Ritchie's spy action comedy, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare) but for a split second, the title escapes me.

"You mean The Manly Ministry of Something?" Henry tuts and grabs back the can. I dare to question if she has a low opinion of the profession in general. "No, it's more to do with the actors themselves." How so? "Well, considering they're usually the biggest gobshites you'd think it'd be great craic hanging out with them--" he quickly interjects.

"Who are you calling a gobshite?!"

'What do you mean?"

"You know fine well what I mean!" Henry turns back towards me and continues. "Even her own mother took me aside a couple of weeks after we started dating to try and warn me--"

"She never! What did she say?"

"Do you really want to discuss that right now?!" It can't be that bad then, I respond. He shakes his head, despairingly. "Oh no, just that she once walked on stage at a school assembly and instead of graciously accepting an award, pretended to trip so she could drag every single trophy off the display table!"

"… Can you tell he went to a private school?" I almost spit my drink out.   

"What do you mean?"

"Do you not realise how tame that sounds?!"

"But that was just the first month you were there!"

"Then I deserved an award--"

"Hang on, she also told me that when you had an after-school detention on your birthday, you climbed out the window of the room you were being supervised in--"

"Normally I'd just get on the bus and go home so that time they gave me a personal escort--"

"And then refused to come down from the roof unless they gave her a birthday cake!" Laughter rings out between our two screens. "In the end, they had to call the fire brigade and she became the reason why their school couldn't properly open their windows any more--"

"I also got a ride home in a fire engine so, hands down one of my best birthdays." Henry sighs. I wonder aloud how this contrasts with his own experiences of school. 

"Er, I mean I was a bit of a goody-two-shoes, so I felt a bit intimidated by that sort of thing." 

"He still is." He now chokes on his drink. Does this mean they wouldn't have crossed paths as kids?

"Nah, she'd have bullied me then as well." They both laugh. So she hasn't mellowed at all in the intervening years?

"I would say I have, yeah… you do as you get older." Henry's eyebrows hit the ceiling.

"Oh right, so I just hallucinated that night at the Bafta’s then?" She clears her throat and takes a large swig from the can. Is this why she doesn't typically attend red carpets with him?

"Ugh, I'd rather shit in my hands and clap--"

"That and the fact you're a fucking liability!" She shrugs as he explains. "A few years ago, I made the mistake of dragging her along to the after-party--"

"Well, that explains why I didn't fucking remember. Why did I have to come? You didn't win anything you were just presenting--"

"Oh fuck off! I even promised to take her on holiday for a couple of weeks if she at least tried to behave herself--"

"'Cos that's a good incentive--"

"And Jesus Christ, never again. If I wasn't blackballed in this industry before, I was that fucking night--"

"No, it's 'cos you won't take acting lessons." Henry smirks and tries to cover her mouth this time.

"At least I didn't go up to a circle containing Judi Dench, Helen Mirren--"

"Look at him dropping names! And it's Dame Judi…"

"And last but not least, the Meryl Streep--"

"You know, of Mama Mia…" A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. 

“Only to ask them where their cauldron was!" 

"But that's the great thing about being a nobody, you can say whatever want--"

"You're not a nobody--"

"No, I'm your plus one…" They howl with laughter. "The best thing is to underdress slightly as well so they think you're staff, the reactions are even better." And what was the response? "None of them heard me." He snorts.

"Judi just burst out laughing--"

"Judi! Like they're friends! Yeah, well she saw us arrive together so I think she was onto me."

"Luckily she's got a robust sense of humour…"

"Not like that other one. Oh, what's his name? You know… the one that says he'd rather be making shoes?" Sir Daniel Day-Lewis?

"Yeah, she asked him if he wanted her to go look for his top hat." I can feel my own jaw drop.

"That's how he reacted! Oh God, I'd give my left tit to relive it…" I ask where Henry is when these interactions go down. "Usually trying to find the nearest exit--"

"Is it any wonder!" 

"But we were only there twenty minutes--" 

"And he wasn't even the first Daniel you managed to piss off!" And who was that?

"Dan Snow." The broadcaster? Henry glances heavenward, exasperated.

"No, Jon Snow - and she means Kit Harrington. She got talking to him and somehow things managed to go south even quicker than usual." I can see how referring to him instead as the 50-year-old historian might have that effect. "No, it wasn't that, it was when he asked whether she was enjoying Game of Thrones--"

"Which is presumptuous isn't it?" For once even I'm at a loss for words. 

"And so she asked him if that's the show with dragons and when he said 'yes,'" he starts cracking up, "she went 'then, no.'" I don't think I've ever seen a man look so crestfallen - not even when you accosted Sam." Mr. Rockwell? I'm assuming that took place while Henry was still on the Argylle press tour?

"Oh yeah that was a gas, I waited until we were a bit better acquainted--"

"So the poor sod had his guard down--"

"And on the last day, I asked if he'd sign a picture for me. I think he assumed it was for a friend or something so he wasn't expecting me to thank him for gifting Henry his picture to put above the toilet--"

"What's worse is that it was that still from The Green Mile, you know? Literally, the first one that pops up on Google!" This anecdote puts me in mind of a similar story I heard on the grapevine during the first season of Netflix's The Witcher. Against my better judgment, I ask him if knows what I'm talking about and immediately his eyes flash in recognition.  

"Yeah, and it pains me to say that's also true."

"What is?"

"Your stunt at the Witcher premiere…" For a moment she looks genuinely confused. "Don't pretend you can't remember!"

"Remember what? I wasn't even there!"

"And even that didn't spare me!" 

"Oh I can't fucking win Mark, all I did was try and bring a smile to his face 'cos I knew he was sad about me having to work that night--"

"So naturally you had an 8x10 still printed of me with Orlando Bloom's head (as Legolas), photoshopped on top? Which, by the way, you could have just messaged me. But what did you do instead? You made dozens of copies and had my bodyguard hand them out to fans for me to sign." She waits for a beat.

"But how long did it take for you to notice?" Gentle reader, when I tell you this is one of only a handful of occasions I've ever laughed so hard in an interview, it's because I want you to know how rare that's actually been over a 35-year career in entertainment journalism. Still, I imagine that if she was brazen enough to taunt some of Hollywood's most influential stars, far worse shots have since been fired.

"Oh yeah, why don't you tell Mark how you recently mouthed off to Aaron Taylor Johnson?" Even she begins to look sheepish. 

"Yeah, but I was only trying to make conversation." Henry's head falls into his hand. She snickers. What on earth happened? "Honestly, nothing. I just said I hoped he really was being considered for Bond ‘cos he looks great in a suit." I hardly know how to respond. "Now that I think about it, he probably just thought I got you two mixed up--"

"Stop it right now!"

"What? You bought me in on this interview!" This of course is true and seems to serve a more serious purpose the longer our conversation continues. That he adores her is plain - his eyes never leave her. But it's the fact she can keep making him laugh, even under the scrutiny of being interviewed, that seems to make all the difference. Is that the key to the success of their relationship? "Well, that and the fact he's gone for six months out of any twelve--"

"So all the messages saying you miss me is just lip service?"

"Oh alright, it's cos he's got a huge… heart. Almost as big as his bank balance." Henry's legs are suddenly thrown in the air. At first, it seems he lost his balance, but judging from how quickly he then chases her from the room, I assume it was she who pulled the lever on his office chair that sent him hurtling to the floor. 

A couple of days later, I received a brief email from her which apologised for them both having 'christened more than a couple of ships' that day and explained how she was grateful that even though she 'had a lot of baggage' before they met, Henry refused to give up on her. She signed off with the following; 'His biggest problem is his limited self-belief. But seriously, he's admired because, in a professional and personal life full of arseholes, he's still, as Virginia Woolf said of her husband right before she died by suicide, 'entirely patient and incredibly good'. I'll never be drunk enough to say that to his face so I've cc'd him in.' I double-checked and saw that she had indeed emailed him as well. It's an oddly moving, albeit characteristically funny postscript and one that underlines her devotion to him no matter what. We should all be so lucky.

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare is on Amazon Prime Video.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @livesinfantasyland @jackjanira @thearcana-moonlight

[fandomwritingbit]

william afton x afab reader x henry emily 

A/n: I have no idea what this is. Pure horny weirdness ig, just uh... enjoy?

Warnings: swearing, smut, voyeurism and inappropriate relationships

It was that time of day where Henry found no choice but to go and interact with his co-worker, he had a plastic wallet thick with documents that he’d wanted to see, something about monitoring stock after a big party. To be honest, Henry didn’t really see the point, the accountant could do it when they come in on Fridays, but hell, keep the peace. He took himself across the building and down the maintenance corridor which housed William at the end of it. But the second he stepped in and the staff-only door closed behind him, he was greeted with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and he stood for a moment in sheer disbelief. 

He finally moved closer to William’s office, the sounds more apparent and lewder, the desperate moaning from you coupled with the wet sounds of William using your cunt. Then it struck him who you are. You, the relatively new day security guard. He liked you because you’re sweet and very capable, and yes, gorgeous; and at hearing your intimate noises and sighs he found himself rock hard under his trousers. His eyes widened in panic, he couldn’t see why he didn’t just walk away and come back later but God, he was throbbing, the image of your pretty body underneath him was too fucking good.

Hating himself the moment he thinks of it, Henry peeks his head around the corner to see Will’s back, mercifully still dressed, and your legs wrapped around his waist. He can’t take his eyes off the spectacle, your scratches on his shoulders and knee hooking him in, he’s suddenly overcome with a wave of pungent jealousy. He tears himself away and collapses against the wall outside the office, just obscured by the door frame, his cock prominent and visibly erect through the fabric. And he falls victim to your mewls and begins stroking himself, hopeful that the ruffling of his clothes as he freed himself wouldn’t give him away. 

It felt gross, but only for a few seconds as he lost himself in the idea of fucking you himself and feeling of his cock in his hand. He matches his pace to your moans, trying to block out the sounds of his co-worker, and only half succeeding. Thrusting his dick into his hand with the picture of the two of you at the forefront of his mind, trying to keep himself quiet. 

“Fuck, Will.” you half-squeal half-laugh as he pushes your back flat against the desk you’re being pounded on, pulling on his arms to get him closer to you. “God, I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop. Please...” His cock fit so well inside you, stretching you open and repeatedly hitting that spot inside you that made you crumble.

You do, clamping down around him in the most perfectly tight way. “You dirty fucking girl. You gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours? Huh?” The rasp in his voice makes you shiver.

“Noooo,” you whine, not letting him pull out of you. “Inside, Will. I want it inside.” you squeal again as he ruts into you harder, his pace staggering as he gets closer.

Your words were now etched into Henry's mind, you asked for him inside, hell, near begged for it. You still were, though it became more and more incoherent. He couldn’t believe how filthy that was, how that came from you and not some video on his phone. At your moaning he came, not having thought it through at all, releasing his load on the tilled floor, having to bite his arm to stop any sounds escaping. 

When he gained enough sense about him to fix himself, Henry put himself away and dabbed at some sweat coating his brow, still swimming in the high. He ignored the urge to flee back to his own office, instead listening to hear the aftermath of your activity. 

“You are absolute filth, my dear. Really going to finish your shift like that?” You grin, letting his cum seep out of you, still sat with your legs spread on his desk. Henry could only dream of the sight.

“Why, is it distracting?” From out the door Henry can hear William chuckling, followed by the sound of you hopping off the desk. Your boss watches you shimmy your knickers back up your legs, only half catching his release and your slick, then your skirt which you smooth down even though it did nothing to make you look more presentable. 

You go to move past your boss, your make up smudged. “Get yourself here after hours.” He speaks into your ear, as you walk out the door, slapping your arse when you pass him, a smirk on his face. 

As you opened the door, Henry did his best to make it look like he’d just arrived, in the traditional sense and not the way he had, giving you a polite smile without meeting your eyes. 

“Oh hey, Mr Emily.” you say, taking a moment to look at him, “You alright?”

His breath hitched at your question, but you didn’t quite realise why. You must be too fucked out. “Yes, uh fine.” He manages, internally willing you to just walk away. You do, smiling at him in your usual friendly way like he didn’t just hear you ask your boss to fill you up.

“Henry...” Will emerged himself, his tie undone. He raises his hands, presenting his palms, speaking jokingly, “I can explain.”

He sighs, “Yeah, I’ll bet.” His sarcastic tone and the look on his face told William more that he would have liked. 

His head fell back in laughter, “You heard then?” When Henry’s face didn’t change, he just laughed again taking a minute to curb it before finally asking, “What are you here for, Henry?” though the grin remained. 

“I have the inventory documents you wanted, after the big party.” He says dryly, eager to end this conversation and avoid more gloating, because his jealousy was evident, as was the proof of his activity still on the floor. 

Henry is faced with a look of boredom from Will that pretty much mirrored his own expression. “Just leave it on my d- actually, not the desk. The uh filling cabinet, leave it there. I need a piss and a smoke.” He moved past Henry, adjusting his tie as he walked away. 

About half a pace from where he left his co-worker stood, he slips, his heel catching the mess Henry had left on the floor. It was only brief, but enough to make him look down at the stickiness on his shoe in disgust, though fortunately to Henry he didn’t catch on. 

“And get a fucking cleaner in here, shit.”

[insidethebarrier]

I Told You

You and Henry have been married for 6 years and you have a three-year-old son named Coen. He's the sweetest boy in the world. He has your dimples and his father's blue eyes and dark, curly locks.

One afternoon, you weren't feeling well. You had a headache, your back hurt, you were bloated and your breasts were incredibly tender. You knew your period was soon and that this was only a preview of what was coming.

You were laying down on your bed watching television when Henry comes in and squats down beside your face. He pets your hair lightly. "You don't feel good do you?"

"I'm okay," you smile weakly.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks stroking stray pieces of your hair.

You shake your head. "No, thank you,"

Henry watches you for a second intently before standing and running a hand down your side to your hip and kissing your head.

He leaves for a moment and returns with Coen. Coen runs up to you and climbs on the bed. He holds his stuffed dinosaur out to you to grab. Then he snuggles up close to your chest.

"Sorry, you don't feel very good Mama." He says looking up to meet your eye.

You look down at him and then up to Henry who is standing in the doorway. He's got a grin on his face.

You kiss Coen's forehead. "You know what baby? I feel so much better now that you're here."

Coen smiles in response and buries his face in your chest. Henry comes over to you two. He whispers in your ear. "Makes you want to have another one doesn't it?"

You hum in response and kiss your husband. He smiles and kisses Coen's head before you fall asleep.

Several hours later, you'd woken up feeling much better and finished the rest of your day energetically.

Now you were in bed with Henry. You laid on your stomach propped up by your elbows as you read a book. Henry is facing you on his side with his head elevated by his propped up elbow.

You notice him staring at you.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," He tucks a stray piece of your head behind your ear. "I'm just looking."

You blush and return to your book.

A few minutes pass and Henry breaks the silence. "Coen was really sweet today."

"He was," you agree looking up from your book briefly. "He's just like his daddy."

"I think he needs a sibling," Henry blurts out.

"Oh yeah?" You turn your head to focus completely on Henry.

He nods. "I think he needs a few of them."

"Really?" You bite your lip showing off your dimples.

Henry nods again.

"How many?" you question.

"Oh I don't know," Henry draws circles on your bare shoulder with his finger "three or so"

"Three!?" You ask surprised "where do you think Coen is gonna get all of these siblings?"

Henry kisses your shoulder "from his beautiful mother,"

You laugh at him "You're funny." Returning your attention to your book.

He chuckles on your skin. He starts kissing a trail up to your ear. "I want to have another baby with you," he buries his face in your neck. "Do you want to have another baby with me?"

You slowly meet his eyes. "Yes." You say softly

"Yeah?" He asks leaning back so he can see your face.

"Mhmm." You nod biting your lip.

He kisses you softly a few times and tries to slip a tongue in your mouth. You lightly push him away by his chest. "Not right now though. I'm reading a book. I still don't know who the murderer is."

Henry laughs at you in amazement and flops on his back. "You're gonna be the death of me darling."

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed. You take a shower and follow the smell of bacon to the kitchen in nothing but your silk robe.

Henry is slaving over the stove shirtless cooking breakfast for you and Coen who is sitting at the table lazily playing with his stuffed dinosaur.

"Good morning sunshine," you kiss Coen's head.

"Hi, Mama. Do you feel better?" He asks looking at you through his big blue eyes.

"I sure do." You smile at him. "Did you sleep good?"

Coen nods and returns his attention to his dinosaur.

You walk over to Henry and wrap your arms around his waist from behind. You kiss his strong back.

Henry turns and kisses you on the cheek "Morning Darling,"

You blush and sit up on the counter. You grab a strawberry from the fresh fruit bowl beside you and bite into it. You smile at the sweetness.

"I had a dream about you last night," Henry says turning around to eat the rest of your strawberry.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm,"

"What happened?" You ask eating another strawberry.

He rests a hand on your thigh and runs it up your leg to find you aren't wearing panties. "I had a dream you were pregnant again,"

"Interesting," you wrap your arms around his neck and spread your legs for him to stand in between.

"Yeah," he agrees and kisses you. The sweet taste of strawberries shared between your lips. "Are you pregnant?" He questions playfully.

You grin "No, not yet." You kiss him again.

"Are you sure?" He kisses your neck and moves your robe to the side to expose your medium-sized breast.

"Yes Henry," you say cupping his face to meet your gaze. "I think I would know,"

"Okay," Henry says sounding unconvinced. He grabs your breast and kneads it. "What do you say we put one in there then,"

You remove his hand from your sore breast. "Right here? In front of our son?"

Henry takes lips off your neck and removes his hand from up your robe. He looks behind you to Coen who had laid his head on the table. "I forgot about him." He hangs his head and smiles, teasing you.

You grin and push Henry off of you. You fix your robe and jump off the counter to scoop your resting toddler from the wooden table.

"Wake up baby" you rub Coen's back. "Let's get you some breakfast,"

Later that day, you'd just gotten back from the gym. You were hot and sweaty. Your hair was a mess and your clothes were sticking to you.

You found Henry playing in the garden with Coen and Kal.

"Look who it is!!" Henry announces when he notices his wife on the patio.

"Mama, look what I found," Coen exclaims as he runs over to you. "It's a daddy lion." He opens his hands you reveal a tiny yellow flower.

"A dandelion," Henry corrects.

You squat down to get a better look and hug Coen. "Wow! That's so cool! You must've been playing hard huh?"

Coen nods his head viciously between heavy breaths. "Yeah! And Daddy even let me throw the ball for Kal to go get!"

"He did?" You act surprised.

Coen nods again "Kal was running so fast. He was like," Coen starts running around the yard as fast as he can to demonstrate the dog.

"Wow, that's really fast huh?" You ask when he stops.

"Yeah. I'm not as fast as him." Coen says between heavy breaths. He rests his hands on your legs. "Hey mama?"

"Yes baby," you ask patiently

"I'm hungry,"

"Let's get you some food then," you stand up. "Why don't you go inside and wash your hands really quickly and I'll be there in a second."

Coen runs off to go wash up.

You walk over to Henry who was picking up some of Coen's toys. Kal runs over to you in the process and you bend over to pet him.

Henry just looks at you and smiles.

"What?" You ask feeling his eyes on you.

"You're glowing," he grins

"I'm glistening from the gym," you rationalize.

You stand up straight. Henry starts walking towards the door. "You're glowing from the pregnancy,"

"I'm not pregnant," you call out after him but he keeps walking

"Mhmm,"

This banter continues for days until you finally decide to take a pregnancy test to prove to Henry that you aren't pregnant.

You guys are sitting on the floor in the bathroom and you're sitting in his lap.

"I think you're pregnant" he says kissing you softly on the lips.

"I know I'm not," you kiss him back.

"You are" kiss.

"I'm not" kiss.

"Yes," kiss "You are," Kiss.

You grab the stick from the sink and read it. "I'm pregnant."

Henry's eyes widen. "Really?" He's got the biggest smile on his face.

"Yes," you show him the stick. "How did you know? Did the angel Gabriel tell you?"

He laughs. "No. I was just trying to annoy you. I didn't really think you were."

You laugh at him and smile down at the test. "I'm pregnant again."

Henry cups your face in his hands. He's grinning. "I told you"

"Shut up." You shake your head and kiss him.

[philtstone]

Shawn/Juliet, "holding hands under the table"

i cant actually find which number it is from this list of prompts but that could just be my brain being fried from the week. also, everyone can feel free to send me more prompts lol. strike while the iron is hot, etc. this might be the most sedate tone i've ever hit with a psych fic. set immediately after the s5 finale -- like, hours after -- and hopefully the characters are all at the right place, emotionally. theres definitely a bit of a grey zone there in s5-6 where a lot is left unsaid but kind of known but also kind of not known. oh, jules.

She asks Lassiter to give her a ride because she probably shouldn’t be driving with a recent head injury. EMTs said no concussion, which is a good thing, but Juliet feels shaken enough that she’s going to do the intelligent, grown up woman thing and ask a friend for a favor.

She can’t help but wonder if maybe she does have a concussion after all, because Carlton behaves extremely fucking weirdly for pretty much the entirety of the drive.

Considering it’s Carlton, that’s really saying something.

“Vick gave me Shawn and Gus’s check,” she says as smoothly as she can, as they get in the car. It’s not entirely a lie, but it does feel oddly duplicitous in a way that holding hands with Shawn under the briefing table earlier didn’t. “Can you drop me off at the house?”

“House?” says her usually gruff partner, high-pitched. She’d caught him at the last second and kind of serendipitously, right as he was making his way out of the station, looking spooked, his jacket only half-on. At the time Juliet felt relieved, but now she’s wondering if maybe he’d needed some time to decompress before being made responsible for another person’s safety again. “What house? Spencer’s house? Doesn’t he live in a laundromat?”

“Henry’s house,” Juliet says, giving him a weird look while he turns the car on. His right eye is twitching. It’s possible that the evening’s events shook him more than he’s willing to admit; wouldn’t be the first time. “Gus told me they headed over there for the night. Carlton, are you alright?”

“I’m just spiffy,” he says through oddly gritted teeth, and sounds the opposite of. “One drop off, coming right up.”

Juliet decides she’ll figure it out in the morning. Her head kind of hurts, as does her elbow, and the catharsis she’d hoped to achieve through finally putting her signature down on that paper has left her a little bit shaky.

It feels good, though. She’ll probably have a good cry in the shower later on.

We did it, says Shawn’s voice in her head, so firm and final and confident. Her stomach and chest and general person are suddenly overcome with a slamming wave of affection she definitely was not prepared for. Swallowing, Juliet tucks her phone between her legs and shoots him a quick text. Wrapped up at the station.

Incoming text from SHAWN SPENCER:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BABE WITH THE POWER!!!!!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

u gonna go home & rest?

Shawn’s texts were exuberant before they started dating, too, but the million heart emojis are a recent development. Something about their introduction makes Juliet want to clench her hands together, melt into the ground, and laugh hysterically at the same time. Shawn turns being a walking contradiction into an art form sometimes. So terrified of facing all the love he’s got to give head-on, but so reckless and sloppy about leaving a trail of it around.

Maybe that’s why she’s fallen so hard for him, Juliet thinks; it matches her inexplicable combination of extreme trust and extreme caution.

Okay. Woah. Too much. Chill out, Juliet; now’s not really the time.

Not with Carlton showing all the signs of working through a hernia in the driver’s seat beside her, mere hours after Serial Killer Takedown.

Yeah, Juliet replies to her boyfriend, then lays her head against the cool car window, closing her eyes before she can notice Carlton’s alarmed glances at her phone.

When they pull up, half the house lights are on. Clearly no one is sleeping, despite the horribly late hour. Juliet glances down at her phone again and realizes it’s pushing three in the morning. She winces. 

“Are you going to be okay driving home?” she asks, one hand on the door handle. Carlton’s staring directly out of the windshield at the house, looking aggrieved in that way that gives him the general look and demeanor of a wet cat. She really hopes he’s okay.

“Fine,” he says. Juliet holds her phone against her lap and sighs. 

“Alright.”

“O’Hara –” he begins, pained, as she opens the door.

“Yeah?”

“I …” A beat. “Nothing. I’m – you get some rest tonight. And – and stay safe.”

“I will,” Juliet replies, surprised by how sincerely the words come out.

Given everything that’s happened, she didn’t expect her own confidence on the subject to be so strong.

Juliet steps out onto the front lawn and watches her partner drive away. Behind her the house silhouettes itself in its own lit glow and the quiet sounds and salty smell of the ocean close by begin to properly filter into her consciousness. She stands still for a few long moments in the dark, which is less threatening now than it was a few hours ago. The humidity thickens her hair and her breath fogs in front of her. When she got Shawn’s text that he and Gus were crashing at his dad’s house instead of the Psych office, call if u need anything jules, she’d been yearning for a shower a bit too much to really think about it. Once her paperwork was out of the way, though, a shower became less important than – whatever feeling brought her here.

Shawn would say it was the idea of pancakes. She likes to think she’s capable of marginally more emotional vulnerability than he is.

She bites her lip, then presses send on the text.

Home.

The response is an immediate string of emojis, mainly the heart bubbles but with the addition of a few inexplicable inanimate objects too. She’s not sure what the megaphone or candelabra or pineapple are supposed to represent, but she’s smiling when she knocks on the kitchen door, which is meaning enough for her.

Henry opens it. He looks — exhausted, about the same as Juliet feels, despite the lack of head injury or general bodily trauma. The lines in his face immediately soften at the sight of her. Juliet refuses point blank to allow her eyes to well up.

“In you come,” Henry sighs, making way. Dr. Spencer — Maddie, Juliet supposes — is at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea. Muffled sounds of a television come from the next room. Juliet vaguely recognizes them as Phineas and Ferb.

At her entrance, Madeline raises an interested eyebrow and glances at Henry, but beyond that moment of silent communication says nothing.

“Do you want some tea?” she asks simply.

“Please.”

Henry squeezes her shoulder, gently enough that she realizes he somehow noticed and filed away all her injuries earlier. Henry Spencer the detective still surprises her sometimes. “Boys are in the living room,” he says, and goes back to the table while his ex-wife putters around the kitchen more comfortably than is probably wise.

Juliet chews on her lip again. An amused smile fights its way to the surface, coupled with an odd twang of yearning that doesn’t really make much sense. Poor Shawn, she thinks, and it's almost a laugh in the same way she’s almost about to cry. But that’s been true all evening. Henry pulls out another old photograph from the box they seemed to be sorting through before her arrival and peers over the top of his reading glasses.

“Oh God, can you believe I used to wear this stuff in public? You hated this thing.”

“If by this thing you mean that horrible yellow suit …”

“See, it wasn’t the yellow that was the problem. The cut did nothing to flatter my physique.”

Madeline is laughing when Juliet slips out, chamomile tea in hand, to the living room.

At the entrance she stops and takes her heels off. Phineas and Ferb is playing, and loudly at that. As promised, Shawn and Gus are huddled on the couch nursing their empty pancake containers, smelling like sugar and more or less dressed in PJs; she spots what’s surely one of Henry’s old fishing t-shirts, cartoonish in the logo and slightly too baggy on Shawn. She knows any old clothes he keeps in the closet here probably don’t fit him anymore. Juliet wonders if Gus went home to change or if he, too, borrowed clothes. Shawn’s hair has flattened a bit where he must have yanked his shirt down over his head, floofy the way it can be in the mornings sometimes. He’s holding a pillow against his chest. Gus’s sock has a hole in the big toe. Every so often one or both of them will giggle at the TV. 

Her eyes do well up, then. 

Of course Shawn picks that exact second to notice her.

He notices a lot of things, Juliet has come to observe, few of which fit congruously with the many things he forgets or overlooks or can’t be bothered over. She wonders if that’s just an extension of how the spirits work, and if he’d explain it to her if she asked him. There’s a resigned part of her that doesn’t think he will, and a practical part of her that guesses at an attention deficit diagnosis that probably gave him some grief growing up and doesn’t really pair well with psychic visions or an enduring fear of being too vulnerable.

Three in the morning is too late to be mulling any of this stuff over, Juliet thinks. Besides which, most of it becomes suddenly irrelevant as she’s hit with the expression that takes over his face at the sight of her.  

Three in the morning, she reminds herself. Near death experience. Don’t read into it.

Shawn doesn’t say anything, only looks at her with all that throat-closing tenderness Juliet has ignored so many times before. I think you’re swell, he’d said. In some ways, she’s always been able to see right through him without even trying. 

Gus is wedged right beside him, hogging the blankets. There’s enough room on the couch for Juliet to fit on the other side of them. 

She walks over, hands Shawn her tea, and climbs into his lap. Her knees bend over his right leg, her shoulder sinks into his chest and her head settles against his neck. Shawn still doesn’t say anything. He just sets the mug down carefully on the floor, takes a deep, relieving breath, and wraps his arms around her. She hadn’t really worried that Gus might complain, but when he reaches over unprompted and squeezes Juliet’s unhurt elbow, the last little knot in her chest dissolves fully. She gropes her hand over the upholstery and squeezes his arm back.

“... latest in my brilliant line of ‘Inators, I call it the Unlikely-Inator! She pairs beautifully with the Likeli-Inator 2000. Together, Perry the Platypus, I shall use them to somehow take over the Tri-State area, and then the world!”

“You wanna change?” Shawn murmurs into her hair after a moment. 

“Later,” Juliet says.

“Mmmkay.”

The old t-shirt is soft against the skin of her cheek and smells like laundry detergent. The rest of the house smells like a family lives in it, even though Juliet knows that’s not really true, and it also smells like Shawn, a little bit. Shawn smells like Shawn, too. His chest rumbles beneath her with every soft laugh the cartoon pulls out of him. 

“Oh – oh, remember this, this next bit is really funny,” Gus says. His voice is just as soft as Shawn’s.

“Man, you know I have this whole show memorized.”

“I’ve never really seen it,” Juliet says quietly. They watch as the little platypus karate kicks Dr. Doofenshmirtz in the head.

“I know,” says Shawn. “But that’s being rectified. Ha! Gus, we should turn the Psych office into a funhouse next week. Just to see if we can.”

He pats her thigh and Juliet feels a small smile turn up the corners of her mouth against Shawn’s neck.

“Shawn, I am not stepping foot in another amusement park since that crazy-ass chick and her boyfriend tried murdering everyone last month. We can try turning it into a bunny sanctuary instead.”

“I like the way you think, hermano. Wait wait, here comes the explosion. Classic!”

She falls asleep slowly, lulled by the comfortable heat of Shawn’s body and the muted, silly sounds from the television. 

When Juliet wakes up, her cheek is pressed against an actual pillow, she’s horizontal, and she has no idea what day it is. She blinks against the grit in her eyes and the fact that her whole body is sore before realizing she slept on a couch. Someone put a pillow under her head and a blanket over her body and took the time to change her out of her gross work clothes. She looks down, only mildly discombobulated. She’s wearing the old fishing t-shirt Shawn had on last night and what must be a pair of Madeline’s pajama pants. They’re a pretty purple color and silky against her legs. She definitely still has her underwear on. A soft snore comes from the ground below her and Juliet realizes she’s still in the living room at Shawn’s dad’s house; Shawn himself is burritoed in an ancient sleeping bag on the ground directly beneath her and Gus is sprawled on a camp bed that’s a bit too small for him on the other side of the coffee table. They’re both still fast asleep. The light coming from the window is light enough that it’s properly morning, but the rest of the house is still dead quiet. A soft blue light appears suddenly on the coffee table; her phone is vibrating, which she realizes must have been the thing that woke her up in the first place.

She reaches carefully over Shawn to grab it. The home screen shows a text from Carlton, received minutes ago.

Got home alright?

She could say that Gus gave her a ride; it would be another easy lie, and he’d happily corroborate it. She hates the idea, though. She looks down at Shawn’s sleeping form, the unruly tuft of hair poking out from beneath the blankets and the drool on his pillow. Telling Carlton would be a bad idea, she knows.

Juliet types, for a second time trying not to think too hard about it, Yes, home. Safe and sound.

She sinks back into the surprisingly comfortable couch cushions, instinctively curling into herself, full of feeling she can’t quite articulate. After a moment of staring silently at the wall, Juliet turns onto her back and reaches one quiet arm down. The tips of her fingers meet the soft warm skin of Shawn’s ear, and when he doesn’t wake up, she keeps her knuckles there, barely moving, only rubbing her thumb up and down every so often. 

Everything else can be a problem for tomorrow. Slowly, she falls asleep again. 

[tadpolesonalgae]

Good, Little, Girl <3 Part 3[*?]

A/N: all I’ve been writing recently is smut, smut, smut and I feel like such a whore. I’m so proud of myself

Summary: uh, so this is set a little later (like a couple of months so they’ve had time to hang out and reader’s had a chance to get nice and comfortable with our Azzie)

Warnings: depression, angst, scars, a bit of sexuality, mentions of bdsm.

-Part 1- -Part 2-

“And you’re sure they’re fine with this?” You pressed, following him inside his house. “I checked, stop stressing,” he threw over his shoulder as you removed your shoes from your feet, padding along after him. “This is supposed to be a fun, stress-free evening,” he emphasised, ascending the stairs, his long legs allowing him to go three at a time with casual ease. “I know, I know,” you muttered, following behind him at a more relaxed pace.

He held the door open for you, allowing you to brush past his chest as you entered his bedroom. “Look at you go,” he teases, “not even hesitating.” You rolled you eyes at his mocking nature, having grown accustomed to it over the past few months. “You’ve proved to be entirely harmless,” you threw over your shoulder as you turned.

Azriel quirked a brow at your bold assumption, but before he could throw a sardonic quip at you, you’d already turned to observe his bed. “Hey, your bed’s made,” you shoot him a look, “how luxurious.” He rolled his eyes, pushing off the door frame, moving to the TV, shutting the door behind him. “What do you feel like tonight?” He asked, locating the remote stuffed beneath some neatly folded clothes he hadn’t had the chance to shove away before you arrived.

You hummed behind him, and he could practically see you comically tapping your finger over your sweet, lovely lips. He swallowed. Keep it down, Az. He can’t be scaring you off now. You’re just becoming comfortable around him. “What do you feel about Horrid Henry?” You spoke, settling on something quicker than usual.

He snorted at the choice, turning to find you with a serious look on your face. “Something funny?” You looked unamused. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head, “what is it with you and kids shows?” You glowered at him as his hand settled on the small of your back, guiding you to his bed. “Do you have something against Horrid Henry, Azriel?” You muttered, crawling onto the right hand side of his bed. “Nothing at all.” You raised a brow to tell him you didn’t believe a word of it.

You paused for a moment, thinking. “Why don’t you pick something out?”

Azriel nodded, “Horrid Henry it is.” He could feel your scowl from across the bed as he settled down. “I’m serious. You always let me choose to the point I’m genuinely concerned about the things you watch in your free time.” He laughed at that but continued clicking through the TV. It was only when you crawled across to him, settling at his side and tugging the remote from his hands that he looked at you.

And his eyes immediately dropped to your mouth. Thank god you weren’t looking at him as you navigated to the search bar. “Come on, just pick a film. Doesn’t even have to be one you like, or’ve watched.” Azriel flipped the lights off, making the TV stand out in the dark room. “You always let me take the lead,” you spoke, looking at him, trying to get his attention. “Why don’t you even take control?”

He knew you weren’t doing it on purpose, but it just sounded…

“You never take control anywhere else in your life,” he pointed out, turning to look at you, making you flush. “Ignoring that,” you muttered, eyes flicking away for a second, “I don’t want to you hold back just because you think I can’t handle it.”

Jesus Christ.

He hummed, turning back to the TV, taking back the remote. “Fine,” he sighed, exhausted, selecting something though you didn’t pay attention. You sat there, quietly, watching his profile. The cut of his jaw, the set of his nose, the shape of his mouth. Those beautiful hazel eyes, a swirl of matcha green and coffee beans.

“Why did you have handcuffs on your bed?”

He startled, hazel eyes sliding to yours, alarmed. His gaze ran over you, tracing your form before again meeting your eyes, settling back into the cushions. “How long have you been gathering up the courage to ask?” He drawled, attention returning to the screen. God knew he could no longer look you in the eye to answer that. “It was more a build up of curiosity,” you answered, removing you attention from him.

You waited silently for his answer, but nothing came. “Azriel?” You prompted, turning to look up at him. He attempted to keep his eyes on the screen as he set the film playing, but he could feel the warm pressure of your shoulder against his bicep, and it was taking up most of his awareness. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, turning to see you watching with enlarged pupils. From the darkness.

“I think you know why,” he managed, voice coming out smooth and unruffled. As if he hadn’t spent nights with his hand fisted around his cock, fantasising about what you would look like with those cuffs decorating your pretty wrists. He waited for a reaction, but you didn’t seem surprised. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. “So…what? Women just let you tie them up?”

“People,” he corrected with a wry smile, harkening back to an earlier conversation. “People,” you repeated, following along with him, chasing your answer.

He sighed when your attention didn’t shift back to the TV. His intent to help you hold your ground was backfiring on him horribly. “I like being in control,” he finally admitted, staring you down as you peered up him with those open, curious eyes. “It’s reassuring to have that sense of power, especially during something that can be so intimate.” You were quiet for a moment, before dipping your head in a nod, “I see.”

You didn’t seem to be having any particular reaction other than bland acceptance. It was a little unnerving. “You don’t seem particularly surprised,” he spoke, watching you for any kind of indication to your thoughts. He got it though, when the tips of your ears flush, cheeks warming. You looked away, “I did some research…” You admitted quietly. “There were some interesting…video essays, on the topic.”

It took a moment for him to comprehend your prim language, but when he did, a bark of laughter flew from his mouth. Your head whipped back to him, alarmed at the startled sound. “You watched porn,” he drawled, looking at you incredulously. A familiar sense of ease settled over him as he watched your lips part, eyes widening at his words. You turned away from him, blushing furiously as you sat straighter.

“I didn’t want to judge something I knew nothing about,” you answered, tone matter-of-fact. How many times had he thought about hearing you order him about in that same strict tone? Too many, Az. Get a grip. Still, his lips curled into a grin, “and what was your strictly academic conclusion?” Your eyes flicked to his, marking his mocking tone, before snapping away.

He waited patiently but it seemed you were set on ignoring him. He bumped his elbow into your side to get your attention. “What did you think?” He asked, softer this time, the teasing lilt to his voice settling into a more serious one. Your jaw shifted as you took an inhale, “from what I could gather…” you began, attempting to keep your tone even, “a video doesn’t satisfyingly demonstrate the trust between partners. I found it straining and nauseating.”

Azriel bit his tongue to keep himself from offering pieces of information you would not want. His heart sank a little. “I see,” he settled on, repeating your words back to you. He deflated into his pillows. That was the end of that, then. There was no way anything would work between you with such vast differences.

“That being said…” you spoke quietly, yet loud enough to snap his attention back to you. Your eyes slid to his, a glint sparking, “…in a written form, where I can understand the emotion behind it all…?” He held his breath, unable to tear his gaze from your own. His heart skipped a beat when the edges of your mouth softened, “I can see why you find it so appealing.”

His head went quiet. Thoughts ceased as he replayed your words in his head. I can see why you find it so appealing. Your eyes had left his, returning to the screen, but he was still locked on you. Was that a sign? Had you just been trying to comfort him, or had you just flirted with him? With any other person, he would have been able to tell. But either way, it was so out of character. The suggestive tip of your lips, the dark spark in your eyes. Those weren’t things he associated with you.

Fuck.

He prayed you wouldn’t look at his lap. That the room was dark enough for you not to notice anything off about him.

“Would you ever try it?” Goddammit, Azriel. Even to his own ears he sounded breathless. What was happening?

You head tipped back to look up at him, questioningly. “Try what?”

Arousal spiked in his lower stomach. Were you really asking that? He swallowed, licking his strangely dry lips, “bdsm?” The letters alone caused your head to dip in embarrassment. “I’m pretty sure you have to have a partner to try it with, first of all,” you laughed to yourself. It sounded like the ringing of silver bells, and he nearly forgot the conversation. “I think I’d have to trust the person a lot before trying anything wild,” you admitted, a smile still on your lips as you watched your hands in your lap. “Someone I could count on and know they’d listen to me,” you hedged, the words unraveling from your tongue.

“I guess…someone like you…”

He went preternaturally still as the admission came from your lips. Someone like you. Someone I could count on… know they’d listen to me.

I’d treat you so good.

He watched from behind his eyes as your own widened, looking at him with a startled look on your beautiful face. He’d said that out loud, hadn’t he? Guess he was doing this now, then.

“I would never hurt you,” he spoke quietly, looking deep into your eyes. “You can trust me with that much.” His fingers brushed yours. Fuck it. His palm moved over your own, gently weaving your digits together. “Give me a chance, and I won’t squander it. I can promise I’ll make you so happy.”

Your lips parted, heart pounding in your chest.

He just confessed.

To you.

Shit. What do you say?

An unsure smile settled nervously on your lips, teetering on the edge of dropping off your face entirely. “I might be into physical pain, Azriel,” you breathed, hands trembling. He watched as something sad flashed through your eyes. “But emotional pain isn’t part of it,” you managed. “So if this is your way of messing around, it’s not cool, okay?”

Azriel shook his head, squeezing your shuddering hand gently. “I’m not messing around with you,” he whispered, eyes locked onto yours, “I’m promising. To treat you well, I mean.”

He waited anxiously, watching you, feeling as your fingers twitched as if considering pulling away from him. His heart thundered against his rib cage, nerves crawling beneath his skin. Your eyes scanned over him, as if analysing him. When they returned to his, he held his breath. You swallowed, “I’d like that.”

He didn’t dare release the air in his lungs, too scared you’d change your mind. You eyes flickered about, before returning to his nervously. “You’re… I feel like I can trust you,” you whisper, and you’re surprised there’s no tremor to your voice. “So I’m going to trust you, Azriel. Because I like you.”

Exhale.

You watched him, fear pumping through your blood, waiting. His eyes softened, free hand lifting to glide beneath your jaw, tilting your head. You held your breath as he leaned forward slowly, giving you the chance to pull away should you now wish to have his mouth over yours. But you did. So badly.

Your eyelids slid shut, leaning toward him. Permission granted.

Azriel nearly groaned as he recognised the action, relief flowing through his body, providing soothing reprieve. His lips were soft against your own, pillowy and hot as he applied a gentle pressure over you, swallowing down your feel.

It was hesitant. Nervous. Exploratory.

Neither of you had thought this far ahead.

He pulled away first, pleasure running beneath his surface as it took a moment for you to open your eyes. When you did, they looked glazed, hazy. Your gaze latched onto his, then dipped to his mouth.

Neither of you could resist the pull.

His mouth returned to yours, opening over your parted lips as he drank from you, tasting your flavour as his tongue licked over your teeth, flicking in a way that had you thinking about what he would feel like elsewhere.

A moan sounded somewhere in between your hot mouths. Your eyes squeezed tight when you realised it had come from you. Instead of teasing you for it, he took it as encouragement, spurring his movements on.

Tentatively, he moved over you, keeping you beneath him as you sank into the pillows. Your hands gingerly, ran up his biceps, curling around his neck. Your fingers played with the silky wisps of hair at his nape. Another moan lifted from your throat, only to be swallowed by Azriel, greedily taking every sound you gave him, treasuring each one.

Slowly, his mouth moved to the corner of your lips, kissing down your jaw, trailing over the column of your throat, feeling your breath hitch beneath his tongue. Your lungs were shaking as he latched his mouth over a spot on your neck, softly sucking, taking the skin between his teeth as he nipped. You whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair as he continued down. Past your collar bones, inching his way down your body. Between your breasts, mapping out his own pathway.

So carefully, he settled between your legs, and you thought you would melt right then and there. He looked up at you, bay and black tea leaves connecting. “Have you ever had someone between your legs?” He breathed, voice coming out horse. Heat swirled in your lower abdomen, eyes weighing with lust and need.

You were too out of it, answering his question honestly, “yes.” His eyes flicked up to yours, sincerity woven through the melodic chords of his voice, “you’re going to forget.” Your eyelids fluttered shut as you basked in his touch, loosing yourself in the feel of his fingers dipping beneath the band of your tights, pulling them off. Your skin felt free, but sensitive, having kept them covered for the past few days.

His hands wrapped over the tops of your thighs - near your hip bone. His heavenly mouth pressed to your abdomen, trailing down reverently, lips meeting the fabric of your underwear as your back arched with budding anticipation. “Azriel,” you breathed, a quiet plea.

Head silent, filled only with you, he began to descend between your thighs, memorising every second should you wake tomorrow and decide to take your words back. His hand slid down over your thigh and he stilled.

Mind frozen, his fingertips traced your skin again. The soft skin, that would yield beneath force, held the puckering slices of scars. Recent ones. Disbelievingly, he pulled back, the light of the TV illuminating the room enough for his eyes to pick out the scratches littering the tops of your thighs. His heart sunk to his stomach as he looked lower, the skin of your shins filled with pursed marks.

All at once, you jerked upright, returning to your body. You’d been swept away by the feel of his loving touch, forgetting why your skin felt so relieved to breathe after having to be hidden.

Awareness flooded your body, skin tingling where his fingers had brushed as you pulled your legs to your body, shoving up the bed. Your arms wrapped over your shins, as if it would wipe the marks from his memory, what you wish you could do to your skin.

Widened, pain-filled eyes locked on your own. Shocked.

Tears flooded your vision, blurring him as they rolled down your cheeks. Every emotion you’d felt over the past month whipping down upon you. Hot, salty water traced forceful, heavy streams down your cheeks, rolling beneath your jaw before dropping heavily onto the your stomach.

“I—…” You don’t know what to say. Just frantic to explain it away, pretend it’s nothing.

Azriel stared at you, eyes struggling to lift from the red-rimmed scars that glared at him angrily. He watched as your hands splayed across your shins, attempting to hide as much of the damage as possible. How painful the sight was. How small your body looked, folded in on itself, head lowered in shame, shoulders trembling with quiet sobs.

Scars littering your skin.

His girl.

The girl he loved, who sliced herself up, not knowing how to manage the torrent of emotions tearing her down.

“What are these?” He asked, voice cracking as his chest hollowed out. How could you ever lay a finger on your body? How could you wield a blade so viciously against yourself?

“I—…I’m sorry,” you sobbed, voice weak and wobbly. “I didn’t mean— You weren’t supposed—…” The tears splattered as the drops burst on contact. The bed dipped, and pain sang throat your chest, gripping your throat, choking on tears you tried to swallow. You tugged your lip between your teeth, hand covering your mouth in small attempt to quiet yourself.

Tentatively, he reached out. He didn’t want to startle, or scare you. But he needed you to know he was there. Even as you were crumbling before his eyes. He needed to hold you together before you disintegrated entirely.

One arm reached below your lower back, lifting you from the bed as he pulled you gently to his chest. “It’s okay…” he breathed, hoarsely, throat wet with tamping down his own emotions. You were pulled into his lap, one thigh settled over his own as he tucked you neatly into the strong frame of his body.

My sweet, clever girl.

The sobs broke from your lips, quiet moans of pain singing from your mouth. He held you through it all, hands gripping your upper back to keep you tight against him. Your own arms wound around his waist, crying into his chest as your emotions spilled over. “I’m— I’m sorry, Azriel… I’m so— so sorry.” A stinging feeling split through his breast bone as he held you tighter. “Stop apologising,” he whispered softly, breath fluttering against the side of your head.

You sniffled, shaking your head, “I’m sorry— I don’t know what—” A sob burst from you, trembling in his arms. You didn’t even know what you were trying to say as groans of pain leave your lips, muffled by his chest. His hand brushed over your hair, mouth pressing delicate kisses to your head, over your temple.

He pulled you away, far enough to look at you. Your eyes were wet with tears, cheeks shining as the skin puffed, your upper lip was damp as your lower one trembled, more tears cascading down. Small strands of hair had stuck to your temples. The sight nearly has him collapsing in one himself. He’d just manage to have you, and already you were caving in on yourself.

“Hey,” he whispered, thumbs brushing beneath your lashes, attempting to dry your cheeks but more wetness flowed in their place. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, a slight tremor in his voice, “it’ll pass.”

You shook your head, “it always comes back. It just— it won’t leave me alone. I can’t do anything about it. It just keeps crushing into me,” you sobbed, hands wrapping over his forearms. “You have to work through this,” he breathed, words fluttering over your skin, “you have to make it out.”

You shook your head again, “I can’t.”

“Look at me,” he demanded softly. Reluctantly, you raised your gaze to his, “you’re going to make it through, okay?” He whispered softly, but firmly. “It’s just a matter of minutes, seconds ticking by. One at a time. Just take them slowly, okay? Don’t think about outlasting all of it. Just go one second at a time, and they’ll tick by before you know it.”

Your sobs slow, evening out, peering up at him. “Look at you,” he praised, quietly, “it’s already been a few minutes.” You sniffed, small tears pooling at the edges of your mind. But that pain had begun to soothe, melting out across your chest, becoming a dull thrum. “There you go,” he mollified, the sway to the deep timbre of his voice resonating somewhere far inside of you.

“Why don’t you relax for a little, yeah?” He soothed, gently settling you back down into the pillows, tucking you beneath a warm blanket. “Wrap yourself up, and we can put something on in the background. Or just sit together. Whatever you want,” he tags on. You curl back into the bed, revelling in the tenderness of his touch, his attentive nature you were just getting to see.

You just sat there, watching him, mind blanking, throwing all your words out just to make room for him in your head. You drank him in, absorbing the pads of his fingertips, the glow of his skin, the depthless swirl of hazel. Devastating.

“What do you feel like?” He whispered, watching you with those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

When you moved to reach for him he came to you, leaning into your touch as he settled down beside you. His heart thundered in his chest as you curled into his side, not saying a word. The silence was pristine, perfect against your ears as you tucked against him, crying into his solid warmth.

You couldn’t muster up the energy to talk, melting into his side, hoping if you kept your eyes closed, focused on the feeling of his skin against your, you could sink into him, forget about yourself. The pads of your fingers pressed against his solid muscle, bathing in the feeling of his clothes lapping at your skin.

The moment would end eventually. But you didn’t want it to.

He was comforting, and strong. You felt safe and tearful around him. Your mind went quiet whenever his eyes touched yours, whenever his words warmed your ears.

Maybe one day it would pass.

As you drifted off in his arms, you found yourself thinking how many seconds it had been, but you couldn’t count. The thoughts had eddied from your mind, replaced with the sound of his voice, soothing as it washed over you.

Taglist: @myheartfollower

[riitah]

[to be a sorcerer] - geto suguru x gn!reader

WARNINGS: hidden inventory arc spoilers, mentions of death, blood, guns, fighting, and implied starvation, a little cursing SYNOPSIS: ever since the day suguru and satoru came back from their mission to retrieve the girl who was to merge with tengen, suguru has been kind of…off. so tonight, you decide to go visit him in the middle of the night in hopes of getting some answers, or, at least, bringing him some comfort. WORD COUNT: 1.1k HONORABLE MENTION: tysm beta reader “henry rumpelstiltskin III of the nuclear sock kingdom”!! AUTHOR’S NOTE: guys i’m so sorry i haven’t updated in so long writer’s block has been ERYGIUHOJWQEHRUR i hope you guys enjoy this AND OH YEAH THE NEW S2 TRAILER CAME OUT I’M LIKE SO HYPED FOR IT i literally had a whole pre-written s2 first trailer (a/n) i wanted to post but that was way too long ago but anyways here’s a geto x reader story i have sm more BUT IDK HOW TO WRITE THEM including crying scenes FUCK yk i feel like geto’s the type of guy who’d comfort people when they’re crying but never let anyone see him cry but when he cries it’s just really messy and emotionfull you get what i’m saying?? like he holds in his feelings for so long it just comes out all at once and ok i’ll stop now sorry if this feels a little too ooc

You stood in front of Suguru’s door in your pajamas, wondering if this was a good idea.

Is he already asleep…?

You turned to go back to your own room, but upon remembering the few bites he had taken of his lunch the past week, you decided against it. Hesitantly, you knocked, the sound of your knuckles against the wood echoing through the hallways. “Suguru? Can I come in?”

A beat of silence. “One second.” The sound of a bed creaking followed his voice, and just a few moments later, the door opened with a small creak.

Unfortunately, the sight of your boyfriend didn’t make you feel any more relieved. His hair framed his face messily, but they didn’t cover up the dark circles or hide the hollowness of his cheeks. The corners of his lips curved upwards when he saw you, but the smile never reached his eyes.

“(Y/N).” He stepped aside to let you in. “Staying up so late isn’t good for you, you know?”

“I could say the same about you.” You stepped into his dorm and he closed the door behind him. “It’s 2AM, and you have to go on a mission in a few hours.”

“I didn’t feel too sleepy.” He offered you his hand, and you took it, your eyebrows knitting together when you realized just how bony it felt. “And the rain wasn’t helping much. But now that you’re here, it’s a different story.” He led you to his bed and lied down, pulling you onto his chest in the process.

“Suguru! Warn me before you do that next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, because I‘m not letting go of you.” He rolled over so that the two of you were lying on your sides, wrapping his arms around you. “Ever.”

“I think you’re hanging around Satoru too much. You’re speaking and acting like him.” You laughed when he made a face at that statement.

“Don’t compare me to that guy.”

“Just ‘that guy’? He’d be so hurt if he heard you say that.”

“You know what I mean.” He pinched your cheek and gently rested his forehead against yours. “So, did you need something?”

“What, I can’t come visit my own boyfriend without a reason anymore?”

“Not when it’s two in the morning. But I might reconsider if you’re planning to stay the night.”

“Will that make you feel better?”

“Definitely. Though I feel just fine.”

“You don’t look fine…”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, pulling you closer to him and planting a brief kiss on your nose. “Really.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. You haven’t been getting much sleep, have you?”

He stared at you for a few moments, and the pitter-patter of the rain filled in the silence that had fallen over the conversation.

“...”

“Suguru…”

He then let out a tired sigh, his arms tightening around your waist just slightly. “You’re right. I haven’t.”

You brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“I just…can’t. Whenever I close my eyes, I see her.”

You took note of his heartbeat, which was rapidly speeding up. "Riko?"

He nodded and paused, trying to regain his composure before opening his mouth to speak again. “It's all still so vivid in my head. I can still hear the gun going off and–"

"You don't have to talk about it if it's painful, Suguru," you whispered softly.

He shook his head, giving you a weak smile. "No, I think it's better this way. I feel like I'm being suffocated." There was a slight tremble to his voice as he spoke, his sentences laced with nothing but regret. "When I do fall asleep, I always dream about the same thing. She dies, he tells me that he killed Satoru too, these people laughing at all of this as if it’s some sick sit-com–” He clutched at the hem of your top, his voice cracking. "Sometimes I can't help but think, what if I had just killed all of them off like Satoru said? Would I still be feeling this remorseful?"

You bit your lip at these words, not knowing what to say. Is there even a correct answer here?

Seeing the expression on your face, the muscles in his jaw tensed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you–"

"No, no, you didn't," you quickly reassured him. The rain had stopped, and the sound of raindrops hitting the glass was replaced with the sound of trees swaying in the wind. "And honestly, I don't blame you for thinking that way. People can be so cruel sometimes."

He swallowed. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I–" His voice cracked a little.

"It's okay to cry, Suguru." You cupped his face in your hands, placing a kiss on both of his cheeks. "I hate it when you hold it in."

He leaned into your touch, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“She had friends, family, she wanted to live–" he said quietly. "And they were clapping, cheering–" He broke into a sob. "(Y/N), I–I was supposed to protect her but I couldn’t–I couldn’t even do that right–"

It was the first time you had seen him break down like this, and your chest ached. You wiped away his tears with your thumb and ran your left hand through his long hair, desperately trying to come up with something to say to calm him down as he tried to talk.

“I feel so damn useless, even now I’m just–do you see this?” He looked up at you and placed a hand on top of your right hand, his thin fingers wrapping around it as if he was scared to lose you, too. “All I'm doing – all I can do – is replaying the events over and over.” He shook his head, his wet cheeks glistening in the soft moonlight. "I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, yet – yet I couldn't save her. I watched her die."

“It wasn’t your fault, Suguru. None of it was, I promise." You could barely hear yourself speak, but you hoped that your words could help somewhat. "I'm sure that she appreciated all that you've done for her."

You didn’t know how much time had passed when his choked sobs finally slowed down to hiccups, or how long you had been tracing circles on his hand with your thumb, but by the time the sun peeked from the trees in the distance, Suguru’s eyes were closed, his long lashes brushing against his damp cheek whenever his eyelids slightly fluttered.

"I'm sorry..."

You sighed at his sleeptalking, making a mental note to talk to him later about his tendencies to feel guilty about showing his feelings. "It's okay, Suguru. You shouldn't have to apologize for anything." You kissed his forehead and murmured a soft “I love you,” giggling a little when you saw a smile form on his delicate features.

Must be a nice dream, huh.

You closed your eyes, letting the familiar warmth lull you into a deep sleep.

[jjsmaybank20]

I have a another request!!! The previous two you write where amazing!

For leightion x reader

Just something simple like leightion takes the reader back home with her during break. She like shows her around. Of course her dad is there being the most supportive dad ever and just wanting to spend time with the both of them but you know leightion isn’t having any of it! Then there’s nico being nico.

Meeting the Family

Leighton Murray x fem!reader

Summary: When you meet your girlfriends' family. (Sorry I suck at summaries)

Warnings: literally just fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I'm so happy you enjoy my fics! Sorry this took forever. Also, sorry about the ending, it’s kind of rushed.

navigation  the sex lives of college girls masterlist

---

“Are you sure you want to do this? My parents can be… a lot.”

You smile over at your girlfriend, taking your eyes off of the road for a second. “Yes, Leight. I’m sure I want to meet them. Even if I didn’t, it would be kind of too late to turn around. We’re like, thirty minutes away from their townhouse.”

Leighton laughs, realizing that you’re right. She then sees that you are about to get onto the Jersey Turnpike, meaning you were nearing the Lincoln Tunnel and the city of New York itself. She couldn’t wait to show you all of her favorite places in the city, even though most of them are shops.

You were excited to formally meet your girlfriend’s parents. You had seen them before, but for some reason Leighton had kept you away from them for as long as she could. You knew that you would probably spend most of this break carrying Leighton’s shopping bags, but honestly, you couldn’t care less. You just hoped that her parents would like you, and approve of your relationship.

 ---

When you arrived at the Murray townhouse, you couldn’t help but hesitate as you walked up to the front door. Leighton notices and turns around, wondering if you were regretting coming home with her. “Babe, are you okay? If you really don’t want to meet them, we can just stay in a hotel or something.”

You smile down at your girlfriend, loving the caring side of her that she only shows with people that she is close with. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I just… I can’t help but worry about them hating me.” 

Leighton cups your cheeks, holding your face between her hands. “They’re going to love you just as much as I do. I promise. Now, Nico might give you the older brother talk even though you’ve met him before, but other than that, you're clear.” You laugh softly, leaning in to give the blonde a quick peck.

You take a deep breath to settle your nerves, then say as confidently as you can, “Okay. Let’s do this.” Leighton grabs your hand, threading your fingers together. She then reaches up and presses the buzzer. Not even a second later, the door swings open. Standing in the door frame is a gray-haired man wearing a shirt that reads ‘proud gay dad’. 

He opens up his arms for a hug, and Leighton quickly lets go of your hand and hugs him back. “Hey, dad. I see you’re still wearing the shirt. I told you it would make people think that YOU’RE gay, right?” The man smiles at her and says, “Hey, sweetheart! Yes, you did tell me that, but I think that it applies very well to our situation.” 

He then notices you standing awkwardly behind his daughter. He sticks out his hand and greets you warmly. “Hi! I’m Henry. You must be the Y/N that we hear so much about! Normally we have to force Leighton to tell us about her private life, but she just can’t shut up about you. All good things, I promise.” 

Slightly taken aback by your girlfriend’s father’s friendliness, it takes you a second to shake your stupor. As soon as you do, you take the man’s hand and shake it firmly. “Hi, yes. That’s me. I’m happy that she likes to talk about me. My parents would say I do the same. I’m so glad that I can finally meet you, Mr. Murray.”

Mr. Murray leads the two of you further into the townhouse, still chatting it up with you. “Please, call me Henry. I’m so happy that we’re meeting as well! Seriously, I have heard SO much about you. So much.” Slightly in front of you, a bright red Leighton shushes her dad. You both laugh at the flustered girl, and you grab her hand again.

Henry leads you into the living room and then turns around, saying that he was going to go find Leighton’s mother and Nico. When he exits the room, you let out a sigh of relief. Sensing that you feel less stressed, Leighton squeezes your hand. “See? I told you he would like you. And we already know Nico loves you, so the only person that you need to charm is my mom.”

You feel your nerves coming back slightly. “So all the pressure is on that one thing? Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. No doubt, no doubt.” Leighton laughs as you ramble, finding you adorable. Suddenly, Nico bursts through the door and practically pounces on you, knocking the wind out of you. 

“Y/N/N! You’re actually here! I thought dad was messing with me.” You ruffle the boy’s hair with your hand and shove him off of you. Besides you, Leighton looks at her brother indignantly. “Oh, hello, wonderful sister. It’s so good to see you. What’ve you been up to? Oh, nothing much, just coming home to visit you and mom and dad.” She says sarcastically.

Nico finally turns to her, pulling her into a tight hug. When she can’t breathe, she taps out, making him release her from his strong grip. Leighton’s dad re-enters the room, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, I forgot that your mother is at her five hour massage thingy, so she won’t be back for a while. In the meantime, how about I get to know Y/N a little better? I can show her around the city.”

As you go to reply, Leighton interrupts you. “No, no. Hell no. I will be showing Y/N around New York, and you guys can bond when mom gets back. Let’s go, babe.” She gets up and walks out towards the front door. You shrug helplessly, and Henry nods in disappointed agreement. “I guess we’ll talk more later. Good luck with her out there. It gets wild.”

You thank him and say that you look forward to getting to know him better. You then follow your girlfriend out the door, mentally preparing yourself for the long shopping spree ahead.

---

Arriving at the townhouse a few hours later, you notice a fancy car parked next to the sidewalk that wasn’t there before. Clearly your girlfriend notices it as well, noting, “Well, looks like mommy dearest is home. Are you ready?”

You nod your head as best you can with the dozens of bags in your arms, and Leighton opens the front door while announcing that the two of you are back. Nico quickly runs to help you, taking some of your load and putting it off to the side. You place the rest of it down and Leighton greets her mother, who has entered the room.

Once they are done catching up, Mrs. Murray turns to you. She gives you a once over before saying to Leighton, “She’s hot. Nice job, Honey.” You blush, not even fazed by the slightly objectifying tone in the woman’s voice due to Bela’s comments on your strong stature. Mrs. Murray then speaks to you. “Hi there, sweetheart. I’m Mimi. Wonderful to finally meet you.”

She sticks out her hand, and feeling confident, you grab it and kiss the back of it. “I’m Y/N. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Murray.” She lets out a soft chuckle and says, “Mhm, and charming too. You’ve got it all. Call me Mimi, Mrs. Murray makes me feel old.” She then turns and walks away, leaving you with your girlfriend. You look over at said blonde, who is looking back at you, shocked. “She took to you right away. I don’t think that has ever happened before.” 

Still astonished, Leighton makes her way further into the townhouse with you trailing behind her like a slightly confused, lovesick puppy.

---

Over the next couple of days, there seems to be a battle between the Murrays of who gets to spend time with you. Oblivious to it, you agree to most of the plans that people pitch your way, making it so that you have barely any downtime.

Nico, Henry, and Mimi somehow manage to get to you before Leighton can, making it so she has almost no time with you. Obviously, she isn’t very happy about it. You end up going to Dave & Busters with Nico, the Empire State Building and Ground Zero with Henry, and shopping with Mimi.

When it comes time to leave New York, you can tell that your girlfriend is in a bad mood. As you strategically drive your way through the busy avenues, you ask her, “what's wrong?” She looks over at you, still with that grumpy expression on her face, and replies, “I didn’t get to spend any time with you this week.”

You laugh, always finding her angry expressions adorable. “Baby, we may not have spent much time together, but I learned so much about you from your family. I also got to bond with them, which means I’m one step closer to figuring out how you’re so damn perfect.”

Leighton lets out a very off-brand giggle. You smile over at her and take one hand off of the steering wheel to reach over and grab one of her hands. You bring it up to your lips and kiss it before cheekily saying, “You’re stuck with me for about five and a half hours, so you best be ready to spend some time with me.”

The blonde bounces in her seat before connecting her phone to the audio system of the car. “It’s going to be the most fun five hours ever! Okay, karaoke time. Say my name, say my name. When no one is around you, say baby I love you-”

You let out an affectionate sigh. This was going to be a long car ride.

---

Join my taglist!

[prkwook]

CUPID 💌🏹

IN WHICH our cast plays cupid for their loser (endearingly) friends who can’t seem to take their own relationship advice.

CHAPTER 002. sneaky little tax evader (smau + written) 🎧

“HI!” you greet the boy that you’ve been not-so-secretly eyeing for the past hour and a half.

“Hi!” he smiles. you internally melt and almost don’t notice the hands belonging to the boy in front of you that are giving you a book to check out. He doesn’t break eye contact once. Usually, that would be a little odd and would kind of sketch you out but there’s just something about his big brown eyes that makes you feel safe.

“Will that be all for you today?” you ask. You’re the one to finally break eye contact, but only to quickly look down so you can locate the barcode and scan it. Your eyes graze over the cover, “The Crisis of the 3rd Century? Interesting choice…” You must have a quizzical look on your face because he laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound you think you’ve ever heard. 

“I know. It's one of my favorite things to whip out at trivia night. No one ever sees it coming! First, it’s the Quadratic Formula … easy peasy … and then Boom! It’s the near collapse of Ancient Rome! Well, that and the fact that Henry David Thoreau committed tax evasion. Multiple times.” 

“Oh my gosh, no way… no one ever knows about that! Every time I reference it, my friends think I'm some sort of nerd. Not that you’re a nerd or anything.” you could’ve rambled on and on but a thought pops up and stops you in your tracks. “I'm sorry, I just have to ask. Exactly how often do you think about the Roman Empire, and I’m not talking about The Gladiator (2000) with Russell Crowe all oiled up Roman Empire. I’m talking like actual Roman Empire?”

“Trust me … you don’t want to know. “ the pretty, brown haired boy replies while trying his best to look serious. It doesn’t work though because a few seconds later, he bursts into the same laughter as before and you swear your world stops for a second. All you can do is pray that he doesn’t hear your heart about to beat right out of your chest. In an attempt to hide your rosy cheeks, you look away from him and towards the register which now displays his total. 

“Your total is going to be $15.89 today, cash or card?”

He pulls out a $20 from what seems to be an off-brand Lightning McQueen wallet and hands it to you. You take it, put it in the register, and give him back his change. He takes it from you with a smile that you’re convinced could bring world peace and drops all $4.11 into the tip jar sitting on the counter in front of you. He says “Have a good evening.” to which you reply “you too.” and watch him walk out the door, bag and cup in hand.

“Woah, your cheeks are redder than a tomato. Be honest, on a scale of 1 to 10, how down bad are you?” Taerae, your best friend, questions as he walks over from his post at Bluebird, the in-store cafe that sits right by the checkout and also happens to give him the perfect view of what just went down.

You sigh and dramatically place a hand to your forehead as if you’re swooning. “I fear I’m in love and I don’t even know his name.”

🔭 ★ mlist. previous. next.

☆★ TAGLIST:  @annoyingbitch83 @vernonburger @doiedecimal @taekwondoes @imthisclosetokms @kaynunu (bold can't be tagged ; pls check your settings + make sure u can be tagged ... ty ^_^)

want to join? -> taglist form . 🫀

[trashmouth-kaspbrak]

Stanley, Bill reflected, was weird. It was harder to see because his best friend was Richie and all his other friends were strange, too: Bill and his stutter and obsession with the horror genre, Ben with his love of niche eras of history, Mike with his well meaning but slightly screwy moral compass, Eddie’s pitbull-inside-a-chihuahua attitude, and Beverly’s smart mouth that has often gotten her in trouble. 

They were an interesting group, the seven of them. 

But Stan was strange, too. He had a quirky sense of humour that doesn’t come out much, but when it did, it came out in odd, moderately concerning ways. 

Like now, for instance. 

They were in Bassey Park, killing time, waiting for spring break to be over so they could go back to school and get away from their parents (and Bill uses the term loosely) and what remained of the Bowers Gang (Belch was in jail and Henry had been in an institution for years, but Victor was still around and bitter and he’d made some new friends who were just as mean as he was). Richie said something—Bill can’t even remember what—and looked at Stan, probably knowing what was coming. He got up and started running, nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry to get up.  

Stan was up and after him not a second later, shouting, “Kookie, Kookie, lend me your bones!” 

Richie’s legs were longer but Stan played baseball and that meant he ran quite a bit; he would catch up in no time. Bill watched as they ran along the edge of the woods. Eddie, not to be outdone (or maybe just a little possessive), went after the two of them. He ran track, and was faster than Richie, but his legs were shorter than both of theirs, and the terrain was much bumpier than he was used to. It was going to be a close race.

“Do you think Stan’s having a mental break?” Mike asked the remaining three. 

Beverly took a long drag from her cigarette. “Probably. Finals and all. I bet Stan’s already stressed even though they’re not for a month or so.” 

“He didn’t get like this in high school, though,” Ben pointed out. 

Bill didn’t say, He wasn’t like this in high school because he was working out his stress in my bed, but he kind of wanted to, just to see how they would react. 

“Bill?” Mike asked.  

“He’s okay,” Bill assured them. “H-He’s just. . . got a wuh-wuh-weird sense of humour.” 

Stan had caught up to Richie by that point and had grabbed the back of his button up. Richie tripped over a tree root and both of them went tumbling. Eddie, going too fast and already too close behind them to avoid it, tripped on their friends and turned Stan into a Stanwhich. Bill huffed a laugh. Stanwhich. 

“What’s so funny?” Bev asked. 

“Stanwhich,” Bill wheezed. 

She did that snort-bleat thing that she did when she was caught off guard. Ben giggled. Mike outright laughed. 

Richie was struggling under Stan, who was writhing under Eddie, who was digging his elbows and toes into the ground, trapping them all there. Stan and Richie went still, whispered something Eddie couldn't hear, and then, as one, pushed up and heaved Eddie off. Eddie shrieked and Richie took off like a shot, running to beat the devil. Then he started jogging and by the time he got back to their picnic table, he was dragging his feet and panting like a dog. He collapsed in the grass.

"They're nuts," he said between breaths. "Both of them. We need to send them to Juniper."

Richie's breathing evened out and he held up his arms and made grabby hands. Mike and Ben hauled him to his feet and Richie slid onto the bench, resting his head beside Beverly's thighs. "Got an extra?" He asked her, eyes pleading.

"I thought you quite smoking for Eddie," she reminded him.

"He did," said Eddie, taking the seat beside Richie, on the other side of Beverly's thighs. Richie groaned. Eddie rolled his eyes.

Stan sat beside Bill. Their shoulders were touching. This wasn't unusual, but Stan reaching out and grabbing Bill's hand was. Bill raised his eyebrow at him, a silent question. Do you want to tell them?

Stan inclined his head just the slightest bit. Yes.

"You're doing it again," said Ben.

"Doing what?" Stan asked.

"That silent communication thing that only old married couples and Eddie and Richie do," Mike answered.

"Are you calling us old?" Richie cried, one hand clutching his collarbone like an offended old woman (hah) clutches her pearls.

"Yep."

Eddie swatted at Mike's arm but Mike deftly dodged, chuckling.

"We're dating," Stan announced.

Bill smacked a big, west kiss onto his cheek. "C-can confirm."

"Hah!" Crowed Beverly. "We won!"

"Won wh-wh-what?"

"We were betting on whether you were dating or not," Mike told him. "Richie, Eddie, and Bev said you were. Ben and I weren't so sure."

"Of course you were. I bet you started it, didn't you Richie?" Stan accused.

"Guilty as charged. But now I've got enough money to pay my bail!"

The fee for losing the bet was five dollars per winner.

"You g-guys are such a-a-assholes," said Bill.

"Richie assholes," Richie agreed.

"The $10 you just won is probably all the money you have." Eddie said. "With how much you spend on albums."

"What's mine is yours and what yours is mine; that goes for your bank account as well, Eddie my love."

"It does not!"

"Hey, we just came out to you guys," Stan shouted over Richie and Eddie's squabbling. "Can we focus on that for a second?"

"Sure, Stan the Man," Beverly replied. "How long have you two been dating?"

"T-two years."

"How the hell did you keep this from us for two years?!" Ben demanded.

"We wanted to see how long it would take you guys to figure it out." Stan answered. "When did you start the bet, Mike?"

"Six months ago."

"A year and a half, and you guys had no idea," Stan tsked. "Some friends you are."

"Hey!" The five of them chorused. And then they all laughed and the subject changed to something else, and a few times it switched back to Bill & Stan, but it was nice, Bill thought, to know that nothing had changed.

(Well, one thing had. His and Stan's entwined hands were on top of the table, now.)

[mizusswordtip]

Down The Rabbit Hole ⚝ Killian Jones x Reader (26)

find the story on wattpad

summary: Alice's plan to overthrow the Queen of Hearts is thwarted by a dashing pirate with a hook. Years later, after the curse is broken, they reunite once again.

masterlist

After Emma and Henry's tearful reunion, we ran straight to Gold's shop. We followed behind a frantic Snow, antsy to wake up her husband. When we got there there's already a group formed around David. I recognize some of them from the day the curse is broken. Leroy and the other dwarves that I never learned the names of along with Ruby.

Snow sits by David's side and leans down while everyone holds their breath in anticipation. Her lips press into his and a bright light fills the room almost instantly. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when David's eyes open, filled with love at the sight of his wife. I feel a pang in my chest that I've grown used to over the years. Loneliness. It's especially alive in this room, filled with old friends and family. Myself being the only odd one out. Well, not exactly.

I look over to see Regina standing to the side and I can't help but sympathize with her. She's an outcast due to her own actions but the look in her eye is all too familiar. I had lumped Cora and Regina together without a second thought when I had discovered she's Cora's daughter. But I've never seen Cora show any emotion before. Just cruelty.

"How about dinner at Granny's? On me." Ruby's words break me out of my thoughts as she looks around the room.

"As long as it's not Chimera, I'm in." Emma jokes and I clench my jaw. I shift uncomfortably, unsure if the invite even extends to me. Me and Emma have become pretty close over the past couple of days along with Snow but everyone else doesn't know me.

"Alice, are you coming?" Emma's voice calls out and I look up in surprise, immediately feeling stupid for feeling the way I did.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll be there in a bit." I stutter out and she gives me a nod before putting her arm around Henry's shoulder and walking out. The rest follow after her joyfully catching up. I turn around once I can no longer hear the chatter to face Regina who looks as though she's barely holding it together.

"Let me guess, this is the part where you get your revenge." She spits out tearfully and I sigh heavily. I don't say anything for a good minute, considering.

"No. This is the part where I offer you forgiveness." I say softly. Her gaze shoots up so fast it was almost comical. She looks almost horrified, causing me to laugh a little.

"Why?" She asks suspiciously.

"I know your mother. She's hated me since I was a little girl. Before I could even manage to pick up a sword, let alone use one." I begin to explain. I trail off for a moment, lost in memories of Wonderland.

"Where are you going with this?" She asks lowly.

"Your mother would have closed that portal and never looked back." I say simply and she looks at me, starting to understand. "You're trying. I'm not going to treat someone who's trying like a villain. Especially when I now know you learned it all from her." I explain. I mean every word too, which is probably more shocking to me than it is to her.

"I..." She trails off, looking as though I had just stuck her. Still though, beneath it all, I can see she's truly affected by my words.

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that I'm wiping the slate clean." I tell her with a nod. She takes a moment to compose herself, wiping her eyes discreetly.

"Thank you, Alice." She mutters under her breath but I hear her none the less.

"You wanna come to Granny's?" I ask awkwardly, extending another olive branch. She looks even more shocked but she hides it well with a faux smile.

"No, thank you. I don't think I'm welcome." She says, looking down at the ground with a rueful smile.

"I understand." Is all I say with an apologetic smile before turning to catch up with the others.

"Alice!" I stop dead in my tracks and turn around with furrowed brows. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out... a set of keys? She holds them out to me, urging me to grab them. I reach out hesitantly before doing so.

"What's this?" I ask dumbly.

"A key. To an apartment here in Storybrooke." Comes her simple reply. My eyes widen and I look up to see she has an apologetic look on her face.

"You're giving me an apartment?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Consider it an apology." She says as an explanation and I feel tears start to form in my own eyes. Maybe she really has changed after all.

"I've never had a place of my own... I've always shared it with either my mother or husband...." I say to myself before grinning at her. "Thank you Regina. This is a good start."

[walkawaytall]

For the fic writer ask game - any of these?

🍲 When did you start writing and why?

Oh, gosh...I started writing for fun when I was maybe eleven? I don't remember why -- that was just the year I fell in love with Madeleine L'Engle and Marguerite Henry books and I decided I wanted to be an author and started writing my very own novel, that was sort of a rip-off of A Wrinkle in Time I think. And then, later, I started my second novel, which was absolutely a rip-off of Joanna Campbell's Thoroughbred series. Around that time, I did start writing a Star Wars fic as well (it had no plot and was abandoned incredibly early on, but Han and Leia did get engaged like the night of The Battle of Endor or maybe the next day, so what else could you possibly ask for?), though I had no idea that the word "fanfiction" existed until years later.

As far as why...I'm not sure. I hated reading and writing in early elementary school, but that changed once I found things that interested me. And, honestly, I got praise for my writing, which probably encouraged it a bit. But I also liked to do it, so...I guess that's why?

🍱 Do you read your own fics?

All the time. I primarily write stuff I want to read. I wouldn't say I write only for me, because I think a lot of art is a sort of communal experience and having readers is an important part of that, but I don't write stories I'm not going to like. And a lot of times, if I go back to something I wrote awhile ago, while I might spot some weaknesses, I'll also see some strengths that can be kind of encouraging.

🍛 Have any comments, tags or reactions to one of your fics every made you laugh or cry or both?

This made my laugh out loud:

And this made me tear up a little because there were a couple of things they mentioned that made me feel like people were understanding what I was going for with certain things if that makes sense?

🍜 Do you ever feel pressured to write?

Yes, but not by anyone other than my own general desire to get a project done or whatever. Like, I haven't felt pressure from others and the couple of times I've received slightly aggressive hints as to what someone else wants me to write, I've ignored them. But I do feel pressure from myself occasionally.

Thank you for asking!

Fic Writer Asks

[phantasoba]

Puck achieves a new level of annoying (part 4)

"I'll ask again, what were you two doing?" Henry demanded. Puck, who could usually come up with an explanation to anything, was stumbling over his words. Sabrina wasn't much better.

"We were watching a movie and fell asleep, that's all." Sabrina managed to say, somewhat calmly. She was still wrapping her head around the fact that she had been practically cuddling with her archrival and first crush, Puck. Her father glared at the fairy boy but seemed placated enough to leave them alone for now.

Daphne, however, was grinning wider than ever, even though her palm was in her mouth. Once she calmed down, she held out the little green camera to Puck. He took it, raising an eyebrow as he turned it over in his hands.

"What's this, Marshmallow?" he asked, holding it up to his face and looking through the lens. He turned toward Sabrina and pressed the little button on top of the camera, laughing happily as it made a loud click.

"It's your last Christmas present. We picked it up from the store today." Daphne explained, watching the fairy as he took the small photo from the slit. His face scrunched up as he tried to figure out why it was black.

"It will take a second to develop, gasbag. That's how polaroid cameras work." Sabrina commented, rolling her eyes. Puck stuck his tongue out at her.

"I figured the camera thought you were too ugly to take a picture of." He teased. Sabrina threw a couch cushion and it hit him square in the face. Without missing a beat, he threw one back, but she blocked it with another.

Soon, all three children joined the fight while Red watched from afar. If this was any indication, the new year would be a good one.

"Hey," Sabrina began once a truce was called. "Why'd you take a picture of me anyway?" Puck was laying on his back, a pillow resting on his stomach. He waved a hand dismissively but said nothing. Sabrina figured that he was still breathless from the fight, but still frowned at the way he brushed her off. Daphne got up from her seat on the floor and skipped over to Red. The two girls went upstairs together, leaving Sabrina and Puck in the living room floor.

The silence that filled the room was a comfortable one, even when Sabrina started putting the room back the way it was before the fight began. Soon, not a pillow was out of place, aside from the one Puck was still holding onto.

"Today was fun," Puck said suddenly, startling Sabrina. She raised an eyebrow at the statement but said nothing. "We should do stuff like this more often." When she turned to look at him, she found that he was staring at the small picture, but it wasn't the one Puck took of her, rather one that showed both of them asleep on the couch.

"Where'd that come from?" she asked, feeling her face grow hot. Puck shrugged.

"Found it on the floor by the couch. I'm thinking Marshmallow took it." he said. Sabrina sat down next to him, though she attempted to position herself where Puck wouldn't be able to see her bright red face. She couldn't bring herself to be mad at Daphne, the picture came out quite cute after all.

"This is probably the coolest gift I've gotten in a while," Puck commented sometime later. "Now I finally have a way to document all of my awesome pranks." His mischievous grin was back, and he eyed Sabrina in a way she didn't like.

"Whatever you're thinking about doing, forget it. If you pull some vile prank on me and take a picture, I will end you."

[vro0m]

vro0m’s rewatch - 154/310

2015 Monaco GP

And it’s already time for the worst GP of the year... yay...

So I don't have the full broadcast for this one and honestly I'm kinda glad because Monaco is so damn fucking long as it is already. 

Welp now I have it and I have no excuse not to watch it so here we go. (Spoiler : retrospectively the full broadcast was so worth it)

Lewis is on pole. Nico locked up and messed up his lap, twice in a row. Hill says Lewis has struck back after what happened in Spain and compliments him a lot but Simon calls him out, because if you remember he said he'd been too distracted during the break and Lewis hit back at him (I don't know if it's figuratively with the racing or if he said something about it). Johnny is grinning from ear to ear listening to him trying to justify himself now. Hill says nobody likes to have people commenting on their lifestyle but– Simon cuts him off : does he stand by it though? He maintains he thinks there is something in it, he thinks you can't travel the world and show up at the race at your best jetlagged and all. Simon asks for Brundle's opinion. Brundle says it's not his place to comment on how he lives his life, he seems very relaxed compared to how he feels himself sometimes. Johnny chuckles. Brundle thinks Lewis looks very comfortable and at the top of his game. He says right before his final run, Lewis went "okay guys let's all just calm down." Apparently it wasn't going too well and then he aced it and Nico made a mistake and that's that. 

Let's hear from Lewis himself. He says it feels very special and wow the broadcast is shit it's completely lagging. He says it feels like a great achievement and it's gonna be a tough race no doubt (can't hear, can't hear) Natalie says he's only won one and by his own very high standards that's not enough, can he win again? (can't hear) …it isn't enough but he's grateful for the one he does have and he'll work as hard as he can to win a second one today. 

Simon says he's read somewhere that Lewis went away to work on a couple of areas he felt he'd been weak over the years on this circuit. He says it shows his attention to details. 

Anyway it's Lewis' first Monaco pole! Of course Nico is right behind him. Then it's Seb and Daniel, Kvyat and Raikkonen, Perez and Maldonado, Verstappen and Jenson. 

Meanwhile Nico could become the fourth driver in history to win 3 Monaco GPs in a row after Graham Hill, Alain Prost and Ayrton Senna. 

Oh god… Lewis went to play football?! With fucking Thierry Henry?!

There are famous people there but I don't know who they are so I'm not impressed. Some of them are not in elite-athlete shape so I’m guessing either retirees or not sportsmen.

So yeah, Thierry's team won. Oh they have a lovely talk. It's a looooong one though (like it lasts almost 10 minutes) so I'll just tell you about what interests me the most and post the thing afterwards so you can listen for yourselves. 

Lewis says Thierry has been doing it for years but for him it's the first time (the video has a bug I think?) then he says he never played in front of people and Thierry says neither did he and they laugh. 

"The guys were really happy to be around you," Thierry Henry tells him, "at the end of the day you ARE, you know, a living legend, like they're saying."

I like his calm voice and demeanour, it's attractive. Lewis denies it but Thierry doesn't care, he insists : "Yes you are! You know, you're gonna play it down obviously because you're humble."

(Look at him babygirling I’d say he finds Thierry as attractive as I do)

A bit later he says : "I always explain to people that when I do something to win, I see, if I can say, myself in Lewis because he wants to win everything. Everything that he does." Lewis says he thinks they share the same mentality, when you go out there it's do or die. "I hate losing. Do you hate losing?" he asks. Thierry scoffs. He says he doesn't understand people telling people they should be good losers. They agree that they don't know what that is, (although of course Lewis has shown us he knows, since then. Or maybe he's learnt since then. Idk.) Lewis says he thinks people like that will never be champions. (Yeah. He definitely learnt. There's a difference between not caring about losing and losing with composure, if you know what I mean. That might not be the best way to word it but you get it, I trust that you do.) 

They must have recorded right after the Spanish GP because Lewis talks about getting a lot from what happened "yesterday". He feels like because he had to gain some places back he was more successful than maybe if he'd won the race. He calls it a challenge of composure. (But that's literally what I was saying about being a good loser. The same word even, lmao. Lewis you do get it you dumbass (affectionate)). He talks about the moment when Bono told him not to try and catch Nico at the end because he wouldn't be able to. He's proud of overcoming all that and not getting flustered. He then says he knows he needs to be better prepared than ever, he says the previous year he wasn't prepared the best he could for Monaco. "I've had a good car for the last two years and I haven't capitalised on it," he adds. (Bro you won the title, is Monaco really that important that you would say you didn't capitalise on it?) He thinks third time's lucky. 

Thierry asks how you find the right balance with a teammate. He says it's not easy as a footballer to be an individual in the collective. Lewis says he doesn't get paid to lift the other one up. On the one hand you want the other guy to be second for the team, but at the same time sometimes you want "the Ferrari guy or someone to take points away from that guy". "You wanna be a team player, but also you wanna win."

He's gotten older though (he says 'a lot' but he's 30 at this point so I refuse that) and now he thinks there's an opportunity to be a leader. (Oh that’s truly… Actually I've been thinking this season we’re seeing more and more of the current Lewis in him and that's another thing he did actually emulate right? He definitely did become that leader in the end.) When he was younger he only thought about "me me me" and wanting to win and nowadays he thinks if he wants to earn the place to be a team leader for all these people, there's a way he needs to conduct himself. Even though he wants to win, he also needs to make sure the team gets a 1-2. 

Thierry says it's like the guy on the bench, he might need to replace you for the end of the game or because you're injured, and you need him to win for the team so you give him advice and lift him up but if you give too much, you might become the guy on the bench, and you might find out that once that guy plays he's not looking at you anymore. That's where he sees a similarity between them in that sense. People don't get it, how you need to be nice but not let him take over. He jokes : "I will help you. But you will never play."

Lewis says the thing with F1 is that everything is recorded, from your heart rate to the vibrations. So you don't even need to tell the guy, he can just go in the backroom and look at it. "All of your talents are on display." He says the difference in your heart and in your ability can still come through even though it's diminished because of that. (I never thought of that part, actually. I didn't know they had such easy access to their teammate’s data. I guess it depends on the team and all that as well but yeah it makes it that much more difficult to navigate. It's kinda crazy to think that eventually Lewis developed in such a way that even with that data his teammates aren't able to emulate him? Or maybe they didn't have as much access anymore after that brocedes fiasco? I wonder.)

I still wrote most of it down in the end because pretty much all of it was interesting lol. Thierry says "see you soon on the field". He adds he won't see him on the track because it's too dangerous for him. "I'm soft." They laugh.

Back on the track it's another footballer. Fucking Cristiano Ronaldo. Meh. We see super models greeting Lewis in the garage, I think it's Gigi Hadid? Idk. Idc. They're with Spinz. While Johnny says he does think Lewis took control of his life and the whole management thing had a role in that too, we see Lewis joking around with the models, handing them his steering wheel then his very heavy bling necklace. Johnny says he feels comfortable with everything that's going on around him which is funny because it's true of his life and of the models lol. "Something he hasn't had for many many years," he continues, "he's always been open on that fact." And it gives him ultimate confidence on track. (I like Johnny Herbert I have to say, I feel like he's often right and doesn't take any of it too seriously.) 

There's a segment about Jules winning Marussia points here in 2014 and it makes me incredibly sad to hear these people talk about him. They all sound so proud. Max Chilton, his teammate at the time, says he got goosebumps just talking about it.

It's time for Lewis to get in the car, the models have to go. Oh, Nick is there! They hug.

I also read that Mercedes announced that they renewed Lewis' contract for an additional 3 years ahead of the weekend! Somehow I don't think they mentioned it during the broadcast but maybe I just missed it idk. 

Formation lap. 

They're racing! 

It's a tight start, Lewis is ahead but just about. Behind him, Nico is level with Seb and there's a Red Bull, Daniel I imagine, trying to get in-between them but locking up as he tries not to collide with the Ferrari. The cars fall into place, it's actually Kvyat who almost made contact, he got ahead of Ricciardo. Yellow flags in sector two. Yeah someone is in the barriers and reversing. It's Hulkenberg. As he tries to go away again he runs in the debris of his own car. The marshals jump the barrier to take them away. His front wing is gone. Massa is dead last and saying on the radio it's finished. What happened to him? Ohhh on the replay we see Hulkenberg was actually SENT into the barriers by Alonso… Hulkenberg pits, and Massa pits and they're both getting new front wings. And Max and Maldonado make contact. Verstappen is trying to race wheel to wheel in Monaco. Which isn't a thing. Unfortunately. But tbh good on him for trying. Alonso gets a 5 second time penalty for the collision with Hulkenberg. Max and Maldonado are indeed wheel to wheel and it made me inhale through my teeth, it's scary scary. I mean. It would be scary with any drivers but it's Max and Maldonado. On paper, terrible pairing for wheel to wheel racing on a tight street circuit. Verstappen takes P8. Ted says Maldonado has a brake by wire failure so things are gonna get worse for him. Yeah, they retire him. 

It's lap 10. Lewis, 3.1 in the lead, is told to manage his front left brake. Behind him it's of course Nico, then Seb, then Kvyat and Daniel, Raikkonen, Perez, Verstappen, Jenson and Alonso is currently P10. Lewis is having issues with brake balance and temperature. It's affecting the strategy, Ted says, as they're telling him he's not making a gap to Seb quick enough now. It's so early in the race to be struggling, I'm worried. 

Lap 20. Lewis is 3.9 ahead now. The order behind him is obviously unchanged. He's told the brakes are coming under control and he can reduce lift and coast. Nico is told it's important to reduce the gap to Lewis in case there's a Safety Car. A bit later, they tell him prime warm up looks better than they thought so Vettel is a threat to the undercut, hence he has to push. He's not getting closer to Lewis though. Lewis complained he lost time in traffic but now it's Rosberg and Seb caught in it and it's helping him a lot. 

It's lap 30. Lewis is 8.6 ahead and the pit stops are ongoing. After the top 3 it's now Daniel, Raikkonen, Perez, Jenson, Kvyat, Alonso and Nasr. Verstappen is just exiting the pit lane after a 31.0 wheel change in a 52.821 pit stop. His race is ruined. Seb pits. Daniel pits. Nico pits to cover Seb. Raikkonen pits. Nico is still ahead but it was close. 

Lap 40 (sigh). Lewis still hasn't stopped and he's 8.2 ahead. Why aren't they pitting him. He's losing time. Behind Seb is now Kvyat, Raikkonen is P5, then Daniel, Perez, Jenson, Alonso and Nasr. Nico just set the fastest lap… Alonso just went straight on in a run off area. He's out. 

Lap 50. The Monaco gp is always so testing for whatever is wrong with my brain wiring istg. It makes me wanna bite things really hard. Anyway, Lewis is, guess what, still ahead, by 10.8 seconds. So there was no reason to worry about Nico earlier. But he clearly must have stopped and I missed it because otherwise it wouldn't be possible. I mean this race is fucking boring and I can't focus so no surprise. Anyway. They keep showing us "battle for P2" between Seb and Nico but Seb is over 1.5 seconds behind so they're really grasping at straws there in reality. 

Lap 60. Lewis is a healthy 15 seconds in the lead. Bla bla bla. Please make it end. Max tries to overtake Grosjean in the hairpin and can't make it. That's another risky pairing. He's told to push the engine. Oh. Guess what? They crashed. It's actually a quite heavy one… One of them changed direction and Max's front left hit his rear right. That suspension is shredded and Max goes straight into the barriers at high speed. It must have hurt… Grosjean is able to leave the scene. All the RBR mechanics have horrified looks on their face. Can we hear him over radio? He's moving. Virtual Safety Car. From his on-board we see him hand his steering wheel to the marshals. "You OK Max?" – "I'm OK." He's struggling to climb out of his car though, maybe because it's embedded in the tepco barrier. He's up and out. Safety Car. Max is being checked upon by marshals. Ooof the replay is scary, that must have been a serious amount of Gs. On the radio Grosjean asks if he has damage. "He's a (beep) that Verstappen. That was stupid." Plenty of Safety Car pit stops. Wow. We see Verstappen's car hooked on a crane and the marshals are reaaaally struggling to extract it from the barriers. It's quite shocking how deep into it it went. Lewis pits???????????? He had to wait a bit to avoid an unsafe release. 

Oh shit. Nico is ahead. Lewis and Seb are side by side behind the Safety Car. Now what. Lewis is P3. No, come on. If Nico wins I quit. Not really but that would be infuriating. How did they fuck up that much, Lewis will be furious. Ted says Lewis on the radio said "I've lost this race, haven't I?" but Bono answered not if they lose tyre temp and he'd be fast behind on supersofts but that would work IF WE WERE ON A FUCKING TRACK ON WHICH YOU CAN FUCKING OVERTAKE FOR FUCKS SAKE 

Ooooh this is so frustrating. 

Lewis asks "what's happening guys?" and Bono says they're reviewing a video? What's that about? Is it about P2? Because we just saw a replay of him leaving the pits and he was clearly behind Seb if that's what he's on about. Seb on his radio says he was in front. Yes you were. He's told they can see from the TV and it was clear. Brundle keeps talking over the radio message to say the same thing just shut the fuck up man. We know. 

10 laps to go. He needs this SC in but they have to repair the barriers… lapped cars can overtake. Brundle is pissed because that's optional and they don't need to do it. Honestly fuck off. (I'm sorry I'm really pissed off by this race.) Yeah that's a lot of lapped cars but still. What's the use keeping them lapped that's just traffic for the midfield. Be real. Bono : "Lewis can you let us know who was ahead when you crossed Safety Car Line Two?" – "Nico was ahead. I was alongside Sebastian." No you weren't love I thought we'd left the bad faith with McLaren come on. Seb is complaining : "This is like sending swimmers to swim with weights on their legs, this makes no sense. We need at least two, three laps at better pace to get a bit of temperature, I mean this is a joke." 

Safety car coming in at the end of lap 70. That'll leave them 8 laps. Fucking hell. 

Here we go. Lewis is all over Seb's rear, he needs to get ahead quickly so Nico can't get away but if he rushes he'll crash. I'm losing my fucking mind. He can't make it. Nico is already over 2 seconds ahead. You can tell he's pissed from the way he drives. Don't fuck it up though… DRS is enabled. Daniel overtook 2 cars since the restart and is up in P4 but very honestly who cares right now. 

5 laps to go… Nico sets the fastest lap. He says it's impossible to pass. I need you to try though, like last race, don't give up. And Daniel sets the fastest lap, he's right behind Lewis, so I guess he became relevant in this race after all. He's under investigation for pushing Raikkonen wide though. 

3 laps to go. Bono : "Strat mode five and you have strat mode two available." – "Please stop talking to me, please." He's losing on Seb, getting closer to Daniel, I'm so very very angry at this race how did they fuck up THAT BAD. No further action for Daniel. Come on Lewis. Fight back please. 

It's the final lap. I can't believe what I've seen. And Daniel is told if he can't overtake Lewis he'll have to give his position back to Kvyat. 

It's the end of the race. 

And so Nico fucking wins fucking Monaco fucking again. Seb is P2 and Lewis is P3. Ricciardo did give the place back to Kvyat. 

Bono : "Sorry about that Lewis, mate. Just going to have to have a word with the pit wall." 

I have no words. 

Lewis stopped by the side of the track?! He's gone again. What was that. 

Ted tells Niki it seems like the team has lost Lewis the GP. "Yes, clear." Why on earth did they pit him? "I don't know. Confusion… in the overhead… I will say… a lot of people talking. And, wrong decision." Ted is adding fuel to the fire saying the Ferrari weren't even about to pit, there was no threat and the gap wasn't big enough. "Full agree." He says he was listening to the talks and there was too much confusion. Ted asks, if he's the boss now, how does he handle it and how does he handle Lewis, who's gonna be "absolutely spitting blood." Niki says he honestly feels really sorry and even apologised to his engineers. It's unacceptable. He asked Toto to analyse it properly and see what the mistake was.

Rosberg is out of the car, Seb is out of the car, Lewis' car isn't even there. 

Ted is with Toto now. He tells him Niki said it was unacceptable. "You've lost Lewis the grand prix. Why?" Toto says they did, they made a mistake, they thought the gap was a different one than it actually was, then Lewis called in that the tyres temp dropped and he had no grip. "A complete misjudgement." (As he talks Lewis finally arrives and straight up runs over the P3 sign.) Toto says he's just so sorry, "we just screwed it up for him". Ted says he's already apologised on the radio, what is he gonna say to him? He says there's nothing else to do but to apologise, and apologise, and apologise. (You know what else there is to do, actually? find out what happened and make sure it never ever EVER happens again, but we already know that it did.)

Lewis slowly, methodically, gets out of his car, while Nico is beaming on the side. Lewis is walking very slowly to them. Seb offers his hand first.

Lewis shakes it but barely looks at him. Seb whispers in his ear as he sets down his helmet (while I make the gif I hear "[something] won this race", possibly you should or would have won this race).

Nico did not make one gesture in his direction, he's still smiling on his side. They head up the short flight of stairs to the Monaco royalty. He's just so happy and expansive about it honestly it infuriates me. Like I get it, he's happy, he's won Monaco three times in a row but fuck that.

But Lewis is good so he walks up the stairs, taps Nico's shoulder and shakes his hand.

(See now the whole conversation with Thierry Henry just. Yeah I don’t need to spell it out, you get it.) Charlene pats his shoulder amicably after kissing his cheeks.

He barely lifts his trophy to the crowd without a smile and sets it down.

Seb says something to him again.

He looks down during the anthem. Nico's satisfied grin as Lewis wipes his face istg. I know it's not his fault but he's so grating right now. Also Lewis' face… if I was from his side of the garage I would be shitting myself. The crowd is chanting his name though. He gives them a thumbs up but it doesn't cheer him up.

They hand them champagne. Nico grabs his bottle and runs off with it. Lewis walks away with his.

Some official stops him in his tracks though as he's truly walking away.

The interviews begin. Will he even talk to Brundle? 

Nico says he's very happy but he also knows it was just a lot of luck today. "Lewis drove brilliantly and would have also deserved the win for sure. But that's the way it is in racing." Lewis is back, we see him sitting down behind Nico with his head bowed still. Honestly… this is such long moments after a race like that it must suck so bad. Brundle asks Nico if he has an explanation as to why Lewis was brought in and not him, he says he doesn't. You don't know the decisions being made as you're in the car. The restart on cold hard tyres was very hard but it worked out. 

In his interview Seb smiles as he says it was pretty close but he's confident he was ahead of Lewis out of the pits. He's happy to be on the podium again and he feels like they were closer in the race than they were in quali. 

Yeah Lewis does NOT want to talk. Brundle says he thinks he speaks for millions of people when he says he's sorry for him. Behind him, the whole royal family starts clapping for him.

The whole crowd starts cheering for him. "Yeah that was not… the easiest of races. But you know the team has done amazing all year long and we win and we lose together so uh…”

“You know I'm just grateful for the job that I did and congratulations to Nico and Sebastian."

… He's matured a lot, hasn't he? It makes me genuinely emotional. Remember the first seasons? He's grown so much. Also it's remarkable how he actually doesn't get very angry but rather sad. I'm pissed af as you can tell. He's just disappointed.

Brundle asks if he can tell them why he was pitted. He takes a big breath in. "I'm sure we'll sit down afterwards and try and think of ways we can improve." 

How bad do you feel now, Brundle asks. You've lost a Monaco grand prix it's been taken away from you. What's going through your mind? "... Uh… come back to win the next one."

A couple of people in the crowd yell "yeah!" and people start clapping, including the Royal family again. 

I just realised Nico's ears are absolutely not the same size. 

I read that in the post race press conference Lewis said the stop was made after he complained of his tyres, and he thought both Nico and Seb had already stopped. He was asked if he'd have full confidence in the team's strategy after that and said yes. 

Max got a 5 place grid penalty for the next race after his crash with Grosjean. He also got 2 penalty points. Oh wait lol. Until now I was like yeah okay, fair. But then I read that he claimed Grosjean brake tested him. Bro stfu. We all saw what happened. Grosjean did not slow down. Verstappen was criticised by Massa, who said he deserved the penalty. He said he did nothing wrong and pointed Massa to his own accident with Perez in Canada 2014. Bold move child. Sit down and drink your milk. 

Let's check out the postrace content now that I have it.

They sent Ted to talk to Nick. He says they're all gutted, he did such a good job. He's massively proud of what he's done yesterday and today. He seems emotional. He says he doesn't know and he doesn't want to comment on it. Ted explains what Mercedes said the mistake was due. He talks about Senna who crashed and went straight to his apartment. Nick says you can see Lewis' emotions right away. He's obviously hurting right now, but he's gonna remain positive. He says he'll make sure to give him as much support as he can, he knows he's there for him and hopefully they can pick him up and get him ready for the next one. Ted says this race kinda means more to him than others, "100%" Nick answers. Monaco is very special for everyone. 

From the commentators cabin, Crofty says he can see just above Mercedes garage, in the offices, Paddy Lowe, Toto Wolff, Bono and James Vowles. They've been talking for 15 minutes, basically since the end of the race. 

We get to hear what Lewis says in the press conference. He's not okay. He says he can't express how he feels so he won't attempt to.

He says he saw a screen and it looked like the team was out so he thought Nico had pitted. He couldn't see the guys behind him so he thought they were pitting. The team told him to stay out so he said the tyres are gonna drop in temperature, assuming the guys behind would be on options, while he was on hards, so they told him to pit. So he went in with full confidence that the others had done the same. 

Natalie bravely went to interview him as well. Let's see how that went. Oh fucking hell. Natalie starts by asking if sorry is enough from the team. He says yes with a small smile but it sounds like he's about to break.

She asks how he gets over this, because none of them can imagine how frustrated he is, and angry. He says he'll refocus tomorrow, enjoy his evening, and try to win the next race. "As simple as that?" – "It's all I can do."

She said they talked before about him wanting to be a leader in the team, is that just another big challenge he has to overcome in that respect? "Um… Yeah, I guess so." – "So you can actually be that reflective and you can actually say to yourself 'you know what I can be the bigger man here, I can grow, I can learn from this'?" He says it's very difficult at the moment, "but you know I'll…" He interrupts himself, looks down and shakes his head.

"I'm world champion so I need to behave like one and I'd like to be the team leader and I think today I showed my pace, I showed what I can do here in Monaco and… So… I feel content in my heart that I did everything I could." (The cameraperson is struggling real hard and just zooooomed on his cheekbone freckle lol) Natalie asks if he's spoken to the key strategist. He says no but it was a collective decision between all of them (he says “us”).

Then Toto is with Ted. He says they had a problem with the maths. They thought they could afford a stop to protect against Seb. But Ted cuts him off out of sheer disbelief. "But Ferrari weren't out in the pitlane!" he exclaims in a hushed voice. "You weren't protecting from anything! They weren't out, they weren't gonna make a stop!" Toto says they were 10 seconds behind them so they could have made a pit stop when Lewis was in. There was plenty of time to do a stop. But he says at the end of the day there's no excuse, because they got the maths wrong. He seems furious. The calculations for the gap were giving them a bigger gap than what they had. "Full stop". He says the margin mistake was 3.5 seconds. Now the question is whether they should have made the call with a 3.5 seconds gap or not. 

Ted is back with the others and he's not convinced by his talk with Toto. He says first of all even if Ferrari had pitted someone, the Merc (aka Nico) would still have had track position. "What circuit did they think they were at?!" he bursts out. "Track position is key!" Then he adds even if Seb had been on the quicker tyre at the end, he wouldn't have been able to get past just like Lewis wasn't able to. He's very right. The issue here isn't the gap miscalculation. 

Ted, although he says himself he might be a bit dramatic, wonders how Lewis can ever again trust a call from his pit wall after that. Simon says twitter is weaving conspiracy theories. Brundle says what they've got to remember is the million calls they've made that were spot-on. But Ted maintains it will stay in Lewis’ head though. 

Nico says yes it's a weird one to celebrate because not all of the team is excited. Indeed on the team photo I felt like there weren't as many people as usual. Of course Lewis himself wasn't there. Johnny asks if it matters, with a mischievous smile. Nico says he's learnt to take it. Sometimes the sport isn't nice to you and sometimes it is, he knows he's been incredibly lucky today, and he'll take it. Hill says Lewis will get over it, right? They're all racing drivers, they know how it is. Nico says it's not the first time and won't be the last, but he's sure today ranks as one of the worst moments for him. Losing in such a way really isn't good, especially since he's done such a good job this weekend. (He's actually being remarkably gracious about this I have to say. Very fair.) He says he has a lot of empathy for him but also a lot of space to just be happy. 

[carcrash-white]

TLDR: The early fall of the Soviet Union in Goncharov mirrors the fall of the USSR in our timeline weirdly closely, but I think this is more to do with the movies themes of nihilism, capitals disfigurment of desire, and of course inevitable death more than the writers being prophets.

Just watched Goncharov for a 3rd time (going through it with everyone else I guess) and I have to say it's eerily prescient how close the Fall of the Soviet Union in this movie mirrored what eventually 20 years after it release. Goncharov doesn't seem to focus on it, but a few things I was able to gleam:

The Soviet Republics seem to have declared independence following an economic crisis of some sort. Unlike in our world however it seems like The Soviet Unon attempted to atleast occupy some of these breakaway Republics. Though this seems to have been unsuccessful, with the USA offering some form of material surport. The mention of Mario being a Partisian in Yugioslav then later delivering aid in the "shiny new Marshall Plan" is were I got this Idea, though the further might be referring to WWii. Still him saying that the "Yanks turnt the Medeteranian into the South China Sea" during his infamous political rant also surport this interpretation. Also in the bathtup Katya laments to Sophia that hard times lead to lead to worse times lead to war growing up (or something along these line, no one talks about how thick her accent is in this), but this might be a stretch. It could also simply be another reference to WWii.

Regardless, the Soviet Union seems to have collapsed peacefully all things considered. Considering Goncharov was written in the late 60s-early 70s this is a strange prediction to make and an even weirder one to get right. Morelli's monologue to Goncharov towards the end (which I'm putting in my second place spot of favourite monologue ever

Also mirroring our world, in Goncharov the USSRs fall leads to the enrichment of criminal elements and the rise of a powerful mafia. Unlike the above this is stated out right several times. Multiply mafia characters talk about how they "moved in" once the cops stopped getting paid. One of the mafioso's is an ex Soviet cop as well I believe. There is also Andrey's whole rant about "taking back what was ours from those who stole it from us" which leads to Katya losing her shit laughing (also Goncharov smiles at this which I think is cute, though he stops when Andrey look at him).

Finally Neoliberal Capitalism seems to have become the dominant force over most of the world, or atleast our main characters and Naples, Italy. Like in the later Goodfellas, it really seems like the Russian mobs reckless pursuit of profit is going to do it in the same way it did in Henry Hill and co. Goncharov laments to Andrey how insane it was for them to take on the Neopolitan mafia, and he replies that what is insane is that they are winning.

Who knows I might watch this again and fleash these out some more, but what I am overall trying to say is that this movie seem to accidentally predict what I dont think anyone in the right mind would claim in the early 70s- that the rapidly growing USSR would taper off and fam apart.

While weirdly prophetic, I don't think 1972s Goncharov mirrors our world because it was written by a genius alt-history author, I think it was the setting required to have a strong Russian Mafia running around 70s Naples, and that the circumstance of it falling reflected the central theme of Goncharov- all things good, bad, tired, or beautiful must come to and end when the clock strikes there anointed hour.