#i miss his sweater from season 1 though :(

[libraryleopard]

me when rand finally turned up in premier of wot season 2

[easy-there-leftovers]

A Question Unasked

Written with season 1 Spencer in mind

Summary: In which your ambitious, workaholic nature makes Spencer wonder if you've got a crush on Hotch. This slight hitch in his plan causes him to miss a few signs.

[A/N]: Can be seen as a filler from Spencer's perspective of certain scenarios from "Mixed Messages" and a prequel to "As Cool As I Think I Am", but can also just be a standalone

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader | cw: slight spoilers for s1e04, allusion to inappropriate workplace dynamics (it's not true, relax lol), slight description of canon-typical violence, mildly inaccurate timeframe | word count: 4k

Spencer looks up from his endless stacks of files on his desk to look at the girl on the other side of his desk. Only a single carpeted walkway really separating them.

He could easily just get up and walk right to her. Ask the burning question that's been on his mind since the Arizona case, but he can't.

Why is that?

He's been your friend for a while, and he's known you for a while longer.

With his eidetic memory, he remembers so clearly when you first started working together. He remembers your starched blazer and pressed blouse, a stark contrast to his swimming-in-sweaters look, and how that alone let anyone know that you were serious about uniform and protocol.

You were, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, and a fresh graduate just like him.

You were smart, beautiful, and started working at the BAU as early as he did.

And because you were new and young, one of the senior agents had been assigned to supervise your progress. So much like how he was mentored by Gideon, you had been mentored by the unit chief himself; Aaron Hotchner.

He'd like to think that he learned a lot from Gideon. He wasn't the type to hold his hand throughout a case, which he is thankful for, but he had been there to encourage him to think more outside the box. To let his mind be more flexible and creative. To see things from every conceivable angle. Leaving no stone unturned.

He supposed you learned a lot from Hotch as well. With your calm exterior, polite demeanor, and calculating mind that occasionally colored your less polite vocabulary-- He didn't know what Aaron must've been like in his junior years, but he supposed that having you as his colleague was essentially the same experience.

What he does know, however, is how close you are to your boss. Or is it your work?

Either way, you being glued to your work almost always meant that you were glued to him by proxy. You two being the first ones in and the last ones out showed that you spent three-percent more of your time with each other than the rest of the team, and two-percent more than with him.

Granted that had changed as of late, but still!

That didn't leave him a lot of time to ask you if---

"Dr. Reid, if you keep staring at me, I don't think you'll be able to finish your action reports on time." You had said without lifting your eyes from your folder.

Having been caught, he cleared his throat with a small 'sorry,' and directed his head back down to his still endless stack of files. The action earning a couple of chuckles from the bullpen where the rest of your colleagues had certainly seen, or at least heard, the exchange.

Not long after however, he saw Hotch from the corner of his eye lean over the railing outside his office. Calling for you both to meet him inside with his usual stern expression.

Spencer noticed how you got up, eyes still zeroed in on one of your files, and continued on your way up and into the unit chief's open door.

A clear sign that you had been invited there often enough that you didn't need to see where you were going.

You expected it.

He sighs and makes his way into the office as well. Dreading what the meeting could even be for, though he's confident he hasn't done anything wrong.

***

"As you might have noticed in our previous cases, I've paired you two to work on the more analytical aspects of it together. With these changes, we've been able to work twice as fast, and we’re thankful for the help."

Whatever Spencer had been expecting, it was not this. His raised eyebrows evidently agreed with him.

It wasn't everyday that Hotch complimented someone like this, much less in the proper environment. And if your respectful posture, but shining eyes in slight pride were anything to go off of, this was something new for you too.

As he was about to voice his thoughts, you had spoken up.

"Sir, Dr. Reid's knowledge in a wide array of subjects has certainly helped with our investigations. Though I'm afraid I haven't done much aside from ensuring it's accuracy and-"

"No! I mean--," He looked to see you already looking at him in slight confusion before continuing.

"She's been a huge help so far and has allowed me to exchange ideas with her to build a more accurate profile. Not to mention that her ability to mediate between departments has been beneficial to gaining access to pertinent information! So I think she's done plenty for the investigations as well." His voice dwindles as he realizes he's rambling on praises and he suddenly feels warm under the scrutiny of both his boss and his colleague.

He just didn't want anyone thinking you weren't doing anything by being humble. Especially since you're both so young.

Thankfully, it's Hotch who speaks up again after a beat.

"So what I'm hearing is that you're both satisfied with this arrangement?"

You both nod carefully and he smiles a small smile at that.

"Then we'll be carrying on with this pairing into the foreseeable future. Should there be any concerns about this arrangement, see to it that it goes through me. We can't afford to lose either of you." He says it with a finality that prompts both Spencer and you to leave with a nod, but the thought is instantly corrected when he speaks again.

"Oh and agent?" He looks only at you, but Spencer looks back as well out of instinct. "A private word, if you please."

Spencer sees you nod without a second thought and he takes it as his cue to hurriedly leave.

***

It hasn't been that long, Spencer argues with himself, since he left the unit chief's office. The blinds aren't drawn, he would know since he'd been looking at them periodically, so he also knows that nothing untoward is happening.

Yet something is bothering him about it.

From his position on his desk, he can see you and Hotch discussing something on his table very seriously, but he also sees how your eyes rarely leave the face of your superior. He can't quite see your expression due to the distance and the light, but he has this sinking feeling that it's a lot like the one from earlier.

He scoffs at the thought. If he wasn't thinking so rationally, he would've thought-

"Does she like Hotch?"

"Who likes Hotch?"

The new voice makes him whip his head back so fast to see Morgan with a confused face. Upon further examination, he sees him holding something that was definitely supposed to be flicked at him if he hadn't been caught so off guard.

He internally debates to voice his opinion, but he does anyway.

"Do you think that she likes Hotch?" He gestures with his eyes to their supervisor's office.

"You're asking me if I think 'little miss perfect' has a crush on a man that's hitched?" Derek echoes back with the use of your nickname. One that he coined as a playful jab at your no-frills behavior.

Spencer cringes when he hears it back though. He didn't ask this to get you in trouble, but it might come across that way now.

"Who has a crush on married man?" Elle joins in, and he only shrinks into his seat more.

"I'm not asking if she has a crush on him! I just want to know if she might like him and--what it is that she likes about him..."

The two exchange looks before looking back at him. Fully knowing that that's not the reason why he's asking, but they humor him anyway.

"Reid, what makes you think she likes him and not literally anyone else?"

"Well. there's her preference for prolonged eye-contact, a common indicator of interest for one. Her being in constant proximity to him, a sign that shows comfort in certain contexts, and then there's the amount of time they spend together."

The last one might be a bit of a reach, considering how you all work in the same area, but at this point he just wanted someone to tell him that he was either absolutely right, or crazy.

"Kid, that's crazy."

Duly noted.

"I'll say.” Elle chuckles out her response. “I haven't thought about it all, but those signs don't really mean anything. It just sounds like she has a habit of looking at whoever's talking to her." She notes, sharing her experience of being on the receiving end of your rather intense gaze.

His other friend adds onto that.

"And the whole closeness thing? You've seen her, she's like a computer with the way she works. She's a workaholic. And Hotch is another. It's just math, Reid."

Spencer furrows his eyes at the man's statement but before he can ask further, he sees you coming out of the office and staring at the small crowd that has now formed at his desk.

"Is something going on here?" You ask with tense brows. Eyes flickering to and fro.

He couldn't really think of something on the spot, but thankfully Derek had one at the ready. "Was just caught trying add my stack on to pretty boy's plate."

He sees you let out a small 'hm,' and you eventually turn your back to them to reach your desk.

He sighs in relief as he feels a firm pat on his back from Morgan.

"Next time, try looking at what she does when you're the one talking." He says before leaving to go to his own desk as well.

Spencer doesn't know what good that would do, especially now that he's worried one of his colleagues have caught wind of him liking you, but he at least takes note of it.

--------

He does not, in fact, take note of it until very later.

The team had been called to San Diego to deal with someone they had been calling, "The Tommy Killer." An unsub that had a preference for gluing his victims' eyes open.

As they were reviewing the scene in the jet, they had noticed a few stanzas of a literary work had been left behind at the scene.

"It's a ballad from the late 1600s. A Dialogue Betwixt Death and a Lady." Spencer had mentioned from where he stood.

"A 17th Century ballad?" Morgan had asked him incredulously from his seat, but it’s you who answers.

"One where a woman tries to bribe Death with all that she has in exchange for a little more time to live. Naturally, he doesn't allow it. Claiming that she was undeserving of an exception that even kings were denied of."

Spencer looks up from his own copy to see you still looking at your own from beside Hotch. With your brows furrowing in thought, he almost sees the actual gears in your brain turning.

"So what, are we looking at a literature professor of some kind?" Elle asks which immediately perks him right up.

"Well, actually anyone with access to the internet today. You should see what comes up when you type in the word, "Death" into a search engine." He laughed absentmindedly.

"Reid, no wonder you can't get a date."

Morgan's words made him frown, but he brushes it off.

Hotch, as previously discussed, then called on for the both of you to look deeper into the messages. To see if there was anything new that could be inferred.

He nods at him, and looks up. Expecting you to still be looking at Hotch as well.

Instead, your eyes meet his, but you quickly look back onto your file.

Reid thinks it's just a coincidence.

***

"Creepy, huh?" JJ had asked you two as she approached where transcripts of the written messages were tacked onto a board.

Spencer had been focusing so hard that he was caught off gaurd by her sudden appearance. Fully expecting the area to just be for you and him so he told her what first came to mind.

"Actually, conversations between Death and his victims was a fairly popular literary and artistic theme throughout the Renaissance."

Though perhaps the delivery wasn't as as good as he thought it was as JJ only stared back at him with an unreadable expression.

He thought it was interesting, really, but he supposed his slight stutter and breathy laugh at the end must have distracted her from his point.

He turned to look at you for help, but you too had been focusing on the messages and wouldn't be available to do that. So he just agreed with JJ’s sentiment, which seemed to be enough for her to leave.

He sighed out in relief.

"The lady never answers. Have you noticed it yet, Dr. Reid?" You turn to him as you ask.

He immediately refocuses on to the case and tries his best to reply after his prior blunder. "Oh uh-- Right, the dialogue in the ballad seems to be fractured. Well, it's more of a monologue than a dialogue seeing that there is no exchange of information."

A small smile graces your lips at that, and you gesture with a nod to go report your findings.

"So it is. Let's get going."

He follows you to where Hotch and Elle were discussing the sexual aspect of the crime and sees you take your place next to your mentor. The same position you were in when he was blowing out his birthday candles, as he also inserts himself into the discussion.

"Sir, we believe what the unsub has written at the scenes are most of the first three verses of the same ballad." You deliver, prompting your mentor to raise his brow at that.

"Most of?"

"Yeah, it's only one side of the conversation." Spencer adds. "There's no betwixt." He takes pride in your shared effort, which makes itself known by the smile that adorns his face.

Unfortunately, his satisfaction, isn't met with a positive reaction either as he sees Elle desperately trying not to make eye-contact, and your supervisor staring at him very pointedly.

He's thankful though at the little chuckle that you quickly try to hide behind a cough and a cover of your mouth to appear more professional. Quickly looking down at the ground.

He's happy that at least someone thought his joke was well-placed.

He continues to explain your theory about how the Lady in the narrative never answers, and that's enough for both Hotch and Elle to at least think about it.

Their attention is quickly stolen away however at an incoming call about a failed attempt nearby the precinct.

Quickly excusing themselves to get onto the scene as soon as possible, you see them call Gideon on their way out. Watching them as they leave the department doors.

But Spencer keeps his eyes on you as the thought just dawns on him.

You were the first one on the team to laugh at his jokes.

***

The more cases he works for the BAU, the more he realizes how much of his work isn't theoretical anymore. He feels it in the weariness in his eyes, the weight on his chest, and the shake of his hands.

Or maybe the shake is from the cold.

After all, he had dressed for the warm, California air. So now that he was in the cool, air-conditioned jet, he was seriously regretting not packing a sweater, at the very least.

He makes his way to the back of the aircraft after another successful investigation, and that's where sees you.

You had opted to shed your typically structured blazer on the seat beside you, leaving you in a softer blouse, both in color and form, that made everyone around you know that you were officially off duty.

It's a nice look on you, he thinks. A slight departure from your usually stern and hardened exterior. He wouldn't mind seeing a more relaxed version of you every once in a while.

A version of you that looked more your age and not constantly under the pressure of doing well.

He momentarily wonders if that's part of your mentor's influence as well.

He freezes a bit, as if catching himself in some depraved daydream, and takes a few steps back to return to the more vacant areas of the craft.

Before he can get any further though, you see him and beckon for him to come over with a tired wave of your hand.

"How's the flight treating you, Dr. Reid?" You ask, drowsiness lacing your tone as he sits on the seat opposite of you.

"Oh, it's the same as always, I guess. A little colder than usual, but that's to be expected. By the way, we’re actually lucky that we haven't experienced some semblance of turbulence yet on our flights, considering that the likelihood of it has increased by seventeen-percent in the last decade."

You laugh at that. "You really know just what to say, huh?"

He doesn't see it as funny as you do, so it seems. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you or--" "There's no need to apologize, sir. I find everything you have to say interesting, whether you mean it to or not."

He stays silent at that, suddenly nervous, and tries to make himself comfortable. He does so in the hopes that he can finally steel himself to ask you that question.

He talked to Elle earlier when they were waiting for the unsub's call. Asked her if she thought it was weird that he knew what he knew, and if it had anything to do with his inability to get a date. She had reasoned with him that it was because he didn't ask, but it couldn't be that simple, could it?

He mulls it over in his head before sighing. Opting to give up and just wait for a more opportune time.

Besides, jury’s still out that you could very well be pining over his boss.

The action, however, seems to remind you of something.

"Before I forget," You look into your baggage, rummaging around before finally finding what it was you were looking for.

You ask him to close his eyes, which he obediently does, and you place a thick rectangular box into his awaiting lap.

The sudden shift in weight causes his eyes to open, and he is certainly surprised to see what was on there.

"What is this?"

"It's your birthday. There wasn't a good time to give it to you, so might as well."

He takes the box into his hands and shakes it a little.

From the sound alone, or near lack thereof, there could be a multitude of things inside it. He looks at you questioningly and you only smile and gesture for him to open it.

He takes his time in doing so, and he doesn't know how or why, but he finds your reactions to his movements much more amusing than whatever could be in the box. As if you were more excited for him.

He finally peers into the now open box to see some sort of purple cloth. A ribbon of geometric designs cutting through its middle and he stares at it in wonder.

"It's a scarf!"

You smile at him, and he was thankful that the rest of the team were either asleep or just not paying attention as it allowed the both of you to savor the moment with at least some semblance of privacy.

"I've noticed that you had a tendency to wear a lot of layers. I wasn't sure if it was because you were cold, or you just liked dressing that way, so I made an educated guess and got you something practical."

And just like that, he's over the moon.

He immediately goes to put it on with a wide smile, paying no mind that it paired so badly with the short sleeves of his button up.

Not that he would know, nor care.

And just when he had been feeling cold earlier too! "Thank you so much. This means a lot to me, especially since you don't usually give gifts."

You shake your head. "I don't, but it's not everyday one spends their twenty-fourth at the BAU."

He continues to observe the cloth that now hung around him. Smoothing his hands over it as he does with an expression unreadable to you.

You worry a bit and hurriedly mention, "I'm sorry if it isn't your color. I see purple show up on your mismatched socks more than any other color, so I just assumed. If it's any consolation, purple is a great color to contrast the warmer hues in brown eyes?"

He flushes at your admission, but matches your urgency to set you straight. "No! Please, I actually really like it-- It's beautiful."

You breathe out a sigh in relief and nod slowly at that.

"Speaking of the color, did you know the origin of purple dye is actually quite fascinating?" His voice filled with enthusiasm. With his eyes, bright, and filled with a child-like fascination that makes your chest feel warm at the sight.

"Historically, purple dye was incredibly rare and valuable, which is why it became associated with royalty and nobility. The earliest known purple dye, known as Tyrian purple, was produced by the ancient Phoenicians around 1200 BC. It was derived from the secretions of a particular type of sea snail, the bolinus brandaris, found in the Mediterranean Sea."

He paused for a moment, wondering if he was boring you, but sees that you're still very much paying attention to him.

"The process to obtain this dye was incredibly labor-intensive and complex. It required thousands of these sea snails to produce just a small amount of dye. The snails would then be collected and left to decompose in large vats. After several days, a gland from the snail was extracted and crushed to produce a purple mucus. This mucus would then be exposed to sunlight, undergoing a chemical reaction that transformed it into the deep, rich purple dye we commonly associate with our modern day equivalent."

As he kept going, he suddenly remembered what Morgan had told him all those weeks ago.

"Next time, try looking at what she does when you're the one talking."

So he does just that.

He observes the way that your shoulders are more relaxed, how your eyes never stray from him, and how the small upturned curve of your lip makes itself known as you rest your cheek onto your propped up fist.

How he has your undivided attention and yet you don't even look the least bit bored of what he has to say. Only silently appreciating and subtly nodding along with the slow blink of your eyelids.

All clear signs of unguarded comfort, and or interest, in his presence.

Had you really been looking at him like that all this time?

Now the idea of you liking your boss seems silly. Especially when you’re looking at him the way he imagines himself looking at you.

"I did know that, actually, Dr. Reid. At the time, Tyrian purple wasn't only desirable for its rarity, people said it was also incredibly lightfast. That it was resistant to fading under the sun and the weather. Not to mention all that hard work that just to get a single gram of it. Then again, modern studies do claim that its lightfastness was, in fact, not an accurate feature as it's color diminished when it was exposed to light and UV radiation."

You laughed a little again, as if remembering some anecdote, and that sound was steadily becoming one of his favorite sounds. Following only after your speaking voice.

"Fortunately for you, doctor, I could only afford a synthetically purple-dyed scarf. Though that means that you won't ever have to worry about it fading under the sun."

Hands up in faux surrender, you give him a tired smile that he returns with one of his own.

A calming silence enveloped the both of you as you continue to bask in each other's presence.

At some point you doze off, draping your blazer on top of yourself to shield yourself from the cold, and that's when he starts considering Elle's words again.

"Do you ever ask anyone out?"

"No,"

"That's why you can't get a date."

He nods to himself, and reclines a little more into his seat. Snuggling into his new scarf that still has the faintest smell of you.

Maybe he will ask you out on a a date later.

_____________________________

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[rosyblooom]

right person, wrong times | cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: a random day each year across 11 years, as they go from practically strangers, to more, to less, and again. (~4.3k) a/n: inspo from 'one day' !! been struggling with writer's block, so sorry in advance if it's rough lool

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

One day in 2018

Y/N glanced across the crowded room, picking out one familiar face amidst the sea of strangers: Pascale. Their families went way back, but with Y/N's parents splitting when she was just a toddler, she'd spent most of her life in Spain with her dad, Switzerland for boarding school, and rare trips to Monaco to visit her mum—hardly ever crossing paths with the Leclerc's.

But today was different. She found herself in Monaco attending a family gathering to finally meet Pascale's sons properly. She couldn't recall the last time she'd spoken to them, but Pascale had insisted today would be the day, especially since her recent move here.

Across the room, Charles stood, his posture slightly hunched as his mother whispered in his ear, urging him to check on Y/N. "Please go see how Y/N is doing. I'm not sure if she'll remember you, but just introduce yourself and keep her company for a while," Pascale pleaded, fixing him with a hopeful gaze. "Please."

"I don’t even know where she is or what she looks like."

"She's at the bar," Pascale replied with a smile. "She's the pretty one—you won't miss her."

"Very helpful," Charles chuckled, shaking his head before stepping back. "I'll make my way over now."

It didn't take long until he found himself at the bar. Surprisingly, his mother's brief description proved accurate, as Y/N stood out for her beauty—quite a departure from the faint memory he held of her.

Drawing closer, he flashed a warm smile and extended his hand in greeting. "Charles."

Y/N shot him a quick, assessing glance, her eyes flitting over his unruly hair and black attire, before meeting his gaze. "Not interested," she dismissed, her attention already wandering back to the room.

Chuckling at her abruptness, Charles shook his head. "No, no, I wasn't trying to... I'm not here to make a move, I wouldn't."

Y/N turned towards him, her curiosity piqued by his response. "Ouch," she teased, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "So you think I'm ugly, then?" Her lips curved slightly as she awaited his answer.

Heat crept up Charles’ neck, and though he couldn’t see himself, he could sense the warmth spreading across his face. With a nervous stammer, he began, “Wait, no! That’s not what I meant—What I’m trying to say is—”

“Relax,” Y/N interjected with a sympathetic smile. “I’m just kidding. Nice to see you again, Leclerc. It’s been a while, huh?”

Charles let out a long breath, his tension easing slightly. For a moment, he studied Y/N with a discerning gaze, as if attempting to unravel her mystery; she was undeniably peculiar, yet undeniably intriguing. “It has been a while,” he finally acknowledged, nodding slowly.

One day in 2019

This marked Y/N’s first ever Christmas market in Monaco. She had wanted to attend last year’s, but the winter season had always been her least favourite. This time last year, it was simply too cold for her—no matter what the news claimed, she was freezing. But today wasn’t half as bad. Sure, she was bundled up in about three sweaters under her hoodie, which she wore beneath her jacket, but well, you could say she was sensitive to weather.

“Y/N?” a voice suddenly erupted from behind her, pulling her attention away from the gigantic, decorated Christmas tree and towards Charles, who now stood before her, holding two steaming mugs.

Y/N narrowed her gaze, appearing lost in thought. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Charles shook his head and sighed, his breath forming a white cloud in the chilly air. “Right, of course. It’s been a year, so it makes sense for you not to remember me…”

“I'm just joking,” Y/N grinned, nudging him cautiously to avoid any spills. “You’re too easy.”

Charles’ mouth dropped open slightly, his eyes widening for a moment before he chuckled, “Okay, I’m not going to believe anything you say from now on.”

"Good idea," she nodded with a smile. Y/N's gaze then drifted down to the two mugs in his hands, and she inquired, "Am I right to assume that one of these is for me?"

A puzzled expression briefly crossed Charles' face, his brows furrowing slightly, prompting Y/N to gesture towards the cups.

As if suddenly remembering, he exclaimed, "Oh, right! I thought you might want something warm, and who doesn't like hot chocolate, right?" With that, he offered one of the drinks to her.

"I sure do." Y/N took the cup, cupping her cold hands around the hot glass, immediately feeling the stiffness melt away from her fingers. The hot chocolate wasn't nearly as scalding as she had anticipated—it was just right, and she savoured each sip, briefly closing her eyes in contentment. When she reopened them, she couldn't help but remark, "Sweet, just like you."

As if someone had turned on a gas stove, heat rushed to Charles' face, though this time he was fortunate; the weather was already giving him a rosy complexion due to the cold.

But Y/N still noticed, and she smiled. "Don't go getting soft on me now," she teased, bumping her elbow into his arm.

Without really thinking, Charles muttered, "You're not making it easy…" His words slipped out, and with their proximity, Y/N heard him loud and clear. Even though it wasn't the first time she'd heard a comment like that, the fact that it came from Charles sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

"What was that?" Arching a brow, Y/N glanced up at him sideways, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Nothing… Do you want to get inside though? It’s a little too cold for me."

“It’s my first time here,” Y/N said, hooking her arm around his, ignoring the sudden tension in his muscles. “Don’t want to get lost,” she explained, glancing up at Charles, who didn’t object and instead simply nodded. “Right, yeah.”

“So? Lead the way then.”

“Alright, alright,” Charles obliged, skilfully manoeuvring through the crowd, with Y/N beside him.

One day in 2020

“Is this seat taken?” The question caused Y/N to freeze, her forkful of ratatouille dropping onto her plate. She swallowed the remaining food in her mouth and swiftly swept the napkin off her lap, dabbing the corners of her mouth until she was sure there were no traces left.

“Not at all,” she finally responded, turning towards the voice. “I should warn you though—” But the moment her eyes met the familiar pair of Charles’ blue ones, she stopped mid-sentence.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if the rest of the table didn’t exist, as neither of them spoke, both too captivated by the other's presence. With a crooked smile, Charles broke the silence. “You were going to warn me about something?”

Y/N couldn't quite explain why, but the sight of his smile immediately lifted the corners of her mouth, while her stomach somersaulted with a flurry of emotions. She pushed aside the sensation and simply laughed, resting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands. “Just forget it,” she mumbled against her palms, loud enough for Charles to hear.

A gentle breeze wafted over her, carrying a familiar, clean scent of laundry detergent that Y/N had come to associate with Charles. Somehow, it immediately calmed the strange fluttering in her stomach, prompting her to lift her gaze again.

“Hi,” she finally greeted with a smile, reaching for the glass of wine on the table.

“Hey,” Charles nodded, settling back in his seat.

They lingered like this for a while, Y/N's gaze fixed on the side of his face while Charles casually surveyed the room, exchanging greetings with a few acquaintances. Squinting slightly, Y/N blurted out, “Are you stalking me?”

Charles burst into laughter, quickly composing himself and leaning towards her. “In my family's house?” he countered.

Y/N nodded in satisfaction as she took a sip from her drink. “Excellent point,” she conceded.

Gently settling the glass down, she redirected her attention to the untouched forkful of food and remarked, “Can I just say, you have to try this, it's so good.” She gestured towards her barely touched plate. “I don’t know what Pascale put in this, but this is the best ratatouille I’ve ever tasted.” Y/N grabbed her fork and extended it towards him, but noticing Charles freeze, she quickly swallowed her words, saying, “Oh, sorry, I know some people are a little iffy with sharing—”

Before she could retract the fork, Charles' warm hands suddenly enclosed around hers, halting her movement as he guided the fork towards his mouth, taking a bite, and nodding at her with a smile. “It’s been my favourite since I was a little kid.”

Y/N whispered softly, her voice barely above a murmur, yet close enough for them to hear each other perfectly. "A man of taste huh?" Her gaze drifted from his eyes down to where his hand still lingered around hers, now tracing soft circles across her skin.

Charles followed Y/N’s line of sight, quickly clearing his throat when he realised what he was doing. He withdrew his hand, causing both to avert their eyes, suddenly finding interest in everything but each other.

The last thing Charles wanted was to make Y/N uncomfortable, and as for her, she simply didn’t want to blow things out of proportion—see something where there was nothing. For all she knew, Charles was like that with all his friends.

A few moments passed, filled with surrounding chatter, before they both spoke up at the same time.

“Do you want to go—"

“So, do you have any other—"

Laughter erupted between them before Y/N smirked, “Because I’m a lady, you first.”

“How kind of you,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Are you free next week? We could maybe grab lunch or something.” Before she could respond, he added, scratching his neck, “I would offer to cook, but unfortunately, cooking skills don’t get genetically passed down.”

Ignoring the beat Y/N was sure her heart had just skipped, she simply smiled and leaned forward, chin propped on her hand. “You mean a date?”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

Her rapid nods confirmed everything before her words even formed. However, just as Charles’ lips broke into a broad grin, Y/N’s expression suddenly fell as she remembered, “Wait, no, I can’t. I’m travelling to Spain tomorrow to visit my dad. And then after that, I’ll start my internship in New York City.”

Charles sank back into his chair, though his face didn’t betray the disappointment he felt. “I see,” he sighed.

“Rain check?” Y/N asked. She wanted a date with him, to see if they’d hit it off on that level. The only problem was the timing, but she knew her feelings didn’t fade quickly. If they had to wait, then so be it. She was ready to do so. Laughing, Y/N added, “Seriously, I still want that date.”

“Rain check it is,” Charles nodded. “Congrats on the internship though, that’s amazing. Maybe I can come visit, and we’ll—”

The sudden clanking of glass interrupted him, causing both to turn their attention to the woman standing at the end of the long table.

Without breaking eye contact with the woman, Y/N leaned in closer to Charles, her lips accidentally grazing his as his gaze fleetingly dropped to her lips before he refocused on the woman, who had now dropped her glass onto the table.

Y/N whispered into his ear, to which Charles simply nodded, suppressing the sudden surge of desire coursing through his veins.

One day in 2021

Y/N walked through the Paddock with a sense of detachment, like a deer caught in headlights. The US Grand Prix had come to an end, and Max Verstappen had emerged as the victor. It wasn’t exactly what she had hoped for, but she didn’t feel any strong emotions about it. What occupied her thoughts, however, was the meeting spot she had arranged with Carlos.

Pausing in her step, she pulled out her phone, deciding to cut straight to the chase and call him directly. The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity until the sound was abruptly cut off by a long beep, indicating his automated voicemail.

“Not even personalised,” she scoffed, hanging up, tossing her phone into her bag, and continuing, resigned to the idea of either wandering aimlessly forever or eventually finding Carlos.

However, she didn’t get far before colliding with someone. She stumbled backward a bit before regaining her balance, and as she looked up, her eyes widened in recognition.

Charles stood opposite her, his expression shifting from shock to a warm smile, though his eyebrows remained slightly furrowed. “Hi,” he breathed, the warmth of his breath reaching and spreading across Y/N’s face. “You’re… here.”

Y/N’s gaze swept over his tousled hair, a few strands sticking to his forehead adorned with tiny beads of sweat, some trailing down the sides of his slightly flushed face. “You’re sweaty. Very sweaty,” she blurted out, immediately regretting her awkward observation. But it had been a year since their last exchange, so it was understandable that things felt a bit awkward between them.

A few chuckles escaped Charles, immediately bringing a smile to Y/N’s face. “Thanks, I didn’t notice."

She exhaled a laugh, and then Charles added, “Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.” Shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun with his hand, he squinted at her. “Can I ask though, was this meant to be a surprise or something?”

“Ah, Charles, you’ve met my friend, Y/N,” Carlos interrupted from behind as he came to a stop beside her.

Y/N smiled awkwardly. “Uhm... Carlos actually invited me, so that's why I'm here."

“You two know each other?” Charles inquired, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“My dad lives in Spain, remember?” Y/N reminded him, shrugging. “Our families are pretty close.”

“Right…” Charles nodded, though he couldn’t shake off the slight hint of disbelief in his voice. After all, he knew Carlos was dating someone already, so he wasn’t sure why he felt that way. And as for Y/N, she was free to do as she pleased. After all, that date they had talked about last year never even happened. They had no history, no reason for him to feel jealous.

But he did anyway.

Wanting to diffuse the sudden tension settling between the three of them, Y/N exclaimed, “But it’s good to see you again. And you did really well. Congrats on P4, seriously.”

Charles smiled, and for the first time today, it was genuine. He wasn’t entirely satisfied with P4; he had wanted a podium finish and had come close to it. But for some reason, if she was happy, so was he.

“Thanks—” His smile faltered when an arm snaked around his torso, his girlfriend Amélie taking her place beside him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Without wasting a second, his gaze shifted to Y/N, just in time to catch the way her eyes widened before she swallowed, her expression now impassive.

Shock and confusion swirled through Y/N’s body. She hadn’t expected Charles to have a girlfriend, so when she felt her heart crack slightly, it made sense. But she wasn’t going to show it—at least, not purposely she wasn’t.

Charles furrowed his brows as he regarded the girl standing in front of him. A pang of guilt nagged at him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why: they were never anything more than friends. And judging by the way neither of them had kept up with one another, you could barely even call it that.

Maybe they were more like strangers with a couple of good memories and unfulfilled promises?

“You alright, mate?” asked Carlos, pulling Charles out of his reverie.

Clearing his throat, Charles replied, “Yeah, yeah... Uhm Amélie, this is Y/N, my… friend.” The word came out almost as a question, but he pressed on. “Y/N, meet Amélie, my girlfriend.”

Charles wasn’t sure what he expected, but Y/N’s cheerfulness was definitely not it. “Hey,” she smiled and waved.

Slowly, tensions began to dissipate as all four of them became engrossed in conversation—though in reality, it was more like three. Y/N found herself too preoccupied with the realisation that Charles had a girlfriend now. It was a simple fact, yet it carried a weight: it meant he hadn't spent the year turning down people left and right, like she had, in hopes of a maybe.

One day in 2022

"Y/N, thank God you’re here!" Amélie's voice echoed the moment Y/N stepped into the living room, causing her to freeze in her tracks. "Uh, hey?" she replied, her eyes scanning the partly decorated room before settling on Charles, who sent her a small wave.

She raised her brows and forced a smile, though it faltered quickly—she and Charles had grown apart. Truthfully, Y/N had contemplated not showing up today; faking an illness or something and making sure to stay at home for a few days—Monaco was too small to risk being accidentally spotted.

But she came.

She came because Charles called.

Two days ago, he had called her in the middle of the night, asking if she was planning to fake being sick to avoid seeing him. And he was right—exactly what Y/N had been contemplating. So, when her first phone call with Charles in two years challenged the very idea in her mind that they had grown apart, it confused her. After all, she was sure she was a blank page now, yet he still seemed to be able to read her.

Snapping out of her daze, Y/N watched as Amélie paced erratically, her brows furrowing with every step. "What's going on with her?" Y/N asked, turning to Charles for an explanation.

He chuckled, approaching her. "It's the cake," he explained. "Amélie ordered it, but now it needs to be picked up sooner than planned because they're closing earlier than usual for some reason. So, now we have a problem, obviously."

"Why don't you just go pick it up?" Y/N leaned into him, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes still fixed on Amélie, who was now engaged in a fervent phone call.

"Apparently, I'm too clumsy."

"You are."

Charles chuckled, but his laughter was cut short when Amélie suddenly gasped, her eyes darting between Y/N and him as she rushed towards them. “Okay, guys, everyone will be here soon. If I stay and finish all this off, you two can quickly go collect the cake. So, if one person drives and the other holds it really tightly, that should work, right?”

“Sounds good,” Y/N chimed in.

“I agree,” Charles added.

“Alright,” Amélie beckoned them out of the living room and towards the front door. “Go on.”

“I love you,” Amélie said, leaning in for a kiss. But as she moved closer, Charles instinctively turned his head, causing her lips to land on his cheek instead of his mouth. His gaze had shifted to Y/N, who stood in the front yard, seemingly fixated on the grass.

“Yeah... love you,” he muttered absentmindedly, his attention still captivated by the girl just a few feet away from him.

Normally, Charles had no issue displaying affection for his girlfriend in front of others, but Y/N made it difficult. Whenever she was around—whether at family gatherings, parties, or Grand Prix events—his eyes always seemed to gravitate towards her.

“Please, don’t take too long!” Amélie shouted as the door slammed shut.

Amidst the occasional chirping of birds, a palpable silence settled between them. Y/N stared into the distance, while Charles observed her from the corner of his eye, noticing subtle changes since their last encounter. Her hair, for instance, was slightly shorter—a minor detail, yet one he couldn't help but notice.

With a loud clap, Charles gestured towards his car, parked discreetly to the side. “That way.”

Following his lead, Y/N entered through the passenger seat. However, as the car sprang to life and its dashboard lights flickered on, Charles let out a frustrated groan.

“What's wrong?” Y/N inquired.

Charles shook his head for a moment, muttering, “I told him to fill up the gas…”

“Oh,” Y/N exhaled, resting her head against the soft leather headrest. “So, what now?”

Charles' eyes lit up with excitement as he sat up eagerly, turning to face her. "We've got some old bikes in the shed, so if you want to—"

"You want us to ride rusty old bikes, while carrying a cake?" Y/N interjected, her serious expression quickly giving way to laughter.

"...Yeah?"

Y/N narrowed her gaze, appraising Charles for a moment before rolling her eyes and pushing the door open. "This is so going to backfire. I can't believe I'm doing this."

Charles couldn't help but smile as he watched Y/N exit the car. He had a feeling she wouldn't turn this idea down, and he was glad he was right. It meant that despite the years, things hadn't changed too much between them. She was still the same Y/N he knew, and he hoped he was still the Charles she was willing to have a date with.

"Don't tell me I'm going to have to do this by myself now. You coming or what?" Her yell pierced through the car, prompting him to jump out and hurry towards the shed.

By the time he finally reached the shed, Y/N had already claimed a bike—and surprisingly, it was his. Charles used to guard that bike fiercely when he was younger, not allowing anyone, not even for a few minutes. But now, as he watched her mount it, he felt no trace of that possessiveness, not even a hint.

Perhaps it was because he had outgrown that childish behaviour, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, he couldn't deny the genuine happiness that bubbled up within him at the sight.

Now, if it were Amélie riding his bike at that moment, he wasn't quite sure he would feel the same way.

“Race you to the bakery?” Y/N grinned mischievously.

A wide smile immediately spread across Charles' face. “Sure, once I get my hands on a bike.”

“No,” she retorted, already starting to pedal. “You snooze, you lose.”

Racing to grab Lorenzo’s bike, Charles jumped on it, yelling, “Cheater!”

When he finally caught up to her, Y/N was no longer riding her bike but pulling it alongside her, causing him to slow down beside her. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you riding?” One corner of his mouth curled upward as he fixed her with a knowing look, coming to a full stop. “Oh, did you finally realise that cheating isn’t the way to go?”

“Says you,” Y/N retorted, though her chuckles rang loud and clear as Charles fell into step with her.

“Anyway,” she pointed down at her bike, “the chain’s come loose. So yeah, I was right, this was a bad idea, and Amélie is going to kill us, and poor Pascale won’t have a birthday cake.”

“Wow, don’t be too optimistic now,” Charles teased, earning an elbow to his side. “We’re not too far from the bakery now, so I say let’s not worry until we get to the ‘how do we get back home in time’ part. What do you say?”

Y/N turned to Charles, her eyes lingering on his features longer than necessary. “Okay,” she finally nodded, “sounds like a plan.”

But her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. In the time she spent gazing at Charles, he had been doing the same, unwilling to move on from that moment quite as quickly as she had.

Stopping in his steps, Y/N continued a few more feet before finally noticing his hesitation and halting her movements, turning back. “Do you want Amélie to murder us?” she joked, but her humour faded when she saw Charles’ serious expression remain unchanged.

“Okay, what’s the matter—”

Charles cut her off with a sigh. “Why don’t we talk anymore, Y/N?”

“What do you mean? We’re talking right now.”

“Come on, seriously,” Charles walked up beside her.

Y/N just shrugged, her mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert. “I don’t know…”

“Well, I don't either, so can we please just start over then?” Charles proposed, his tone tired of the tension and the walking on eggshells. It was too much when all he wanted was to be close to her, to laugh like they used to before everything went haywire.

Y/N looked off to the side, musing over his words for a moment, before meeting his gaze again with a small smile. “Okay, fine, I guess.”

“Wow, you seem really excited,” Charles remarked, flashing a wide grin.

“I really do, don't I? Now, if you don’t mind,” Y/N started walking again, “I really do not feel like being killed today, so let’s fucking go.”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

2:31 ──────ㅇ────── 4:45

[saradika]

— invisible string

din djarin x vaguely force sensitive!reader

rated e - 1.7k

tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements

a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character

There's something about him, this man.

Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.

You feel as if you are always out of step.

Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.

As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.

As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.

You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.

But you're not sure what to do with this.

The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.

Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.

The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.

After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.

To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.

Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.

Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.

It’s not your problem.

Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.

You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.

There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.

Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.

It’s nice.

It follows you, back to your room.

You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.

Somehow you know it’s out there.

But it's not time.

The next day, your ship takes off again.

There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.

Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.

It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.

You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.

There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.

But you still go out, day after day.

It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.

It should frighten you… but it doesn't.

It feels like an inevitability.

Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.

"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.

And it's him.

There's something about him, this man.

Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.

You're not sure what that something is...

But think you are finally ready to find out.

His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.

You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.

Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.

For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.

You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?

And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.

An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.

Had grieved with him, after.

You think this had been your place all along.

This liminal space, in those months that follow.

Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.

It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.

But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.

He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.

Before it’s just him and you.

His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.

Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.

You think he did. He does.

And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.

Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.

The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.

“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”

“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”

He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.

Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.

Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.

To leave you, again.

But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.

And in the dark - he stays.

“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”

His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.

Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.

But you had left early, and he had came late.

“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”

There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.

“Yes.”

It is enough, for now.

You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.

Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…

You think that he would feel it, too.

thanks so much for reading!! 💖

cyare - beloved

[mrsfancyferrari]

Can you make an AU where Carlos is attracted to the new receptionist at the golf course he and Papa Sainz frequent? Ps. please make her Latina and with curly hair

Thanks in advance!!

Golf Gurl

Anon: Can you make an AU where Carlos is attracted to the new receptionist at the golf course he and Papa Sainz frequent? Ps. please make her Latina and with curly hair

Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 6.6k

It was another busy day at the golf course, with members coming and going.

You've only worked here for a few weeks, thanks to your best friend who got you the job. She knew you were in desperate need of more staff, and you were in desperate need of money, so it worked out perfectly.

The hours were long and the work could be exhausting, but it was a steady paycheck and you were grateful for it. Every day brought new challenges and new faces, and you were slowly getting the hang of things.

The members were mostly friendly, though some could be demanding. Your friend and you often laughed about the more eccentric characters you encountered, and it made the busy days more bearable.

Plus, the beautiful scenery of the golf course was a nice bonus, providing a peaceful escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

As you stood behind the reception desk, checking in players and handing out scorecards, you couldn't help but notice a familiar face approaching.

It was Carlos Sainz, the young Formula 1 driver, and his father Carlos Sainz Sr.

Carlos Sainz Jr. had a boyish charm that was hard to miss. His chiselled jawline, sparkling brown eyes, and tousled dark hair gave him an effortlessly cool appearance. Dressed in a sleek, navy-blue polo shirt and tailored khaki shorts, he exuded an air of casual sophistication that turned heads everywhere he went.

His father, Carlos Sainz Sr., was a distinguished figure with a rugged, experienced look. His salt-and-pepper hair and weathered face told stories of countless adventures and victories. Wearing a classic white polo and well-fitted trousers, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of a seasoned champion.

As they approached the desk, their easy camaraderie was evident. The younger Sainz greeted you with a warm smile, while his father gave a polite nod, both of them radiating the kind of charisma that comes from a life spent in the spotlight.

"Good morning, how can I assist you today?" You greeted them with a warm smile.

"Hola, we'd like to check in for our usual tee time," Carlos Sainz Sr. replied.

As you typed away at the computer, you felt Carlos Sainz's gaze on you. You glanced up and your eyes met, causing a flutter in your chest.

"Here are your scorecards, gentlemen. Enjoy your round," you said, handing them the cards.

"Gracias, senorita," Carlos Sr. nodded, then turned to his son. "Come on, let's get going."

But Carlos lingered for a moment, his eyes still locked on yours. "Thank you," he said softly, before following his father to the first tee.

A few seconds after they left, your best friend Mariah came running over, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Did you know that Carlos Sainz and his dad just arrived here?" she exclaimed, almost out of breath.

You sighed, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yes, Mariah, I just saw them. I checked them in," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the fluttering in your chest.

Mariah's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned in closer. "Did you talk to him? What did he say? Oh my gosh, he’s even more handsome in person, isn't he?" she gushed, barely able to contain her excitement.

You chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Not much, just a thank you," you said softly, feeling that flutter in your chest again as you recalled the moment.

Mariah nudged you playfully. "Come on, there has to be more! Did he smile at you? Did you feel a spark?"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't help but blush. "He did smile, and maybe there was a little spark," you admitted, causing Mariah to squeal with delight.

"This is so exciting! Who knows, maybe you'll bump into him again later," she added, winking mischievously.

Over the next few weeks, you noticed Carlos Sainz would often linger a bit longer after checking in, finding excuses to talk to you.

You'd exchange small talk about the weather, the course conditions, or the upcoming F1 race. You found yourself looking forward to these brief interactions, captivated by his charming smile and warm brown eyes.

"Girl, he loves you," Mariah exclaimed dramatically over your lunch break, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You laughed, shaking your head. "That's exaggerating, Mariah. We've just been talking," you insisted, though you couldn't deny the thrill that ran through you at the thought.

Mariah leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Please, I've seen the way he looks at you. It's like you're the only person in the world. And don't even get me started on how he always finds a reason to linger around," she said, raising an eyebrow.

You sighed, unable to suppress a smile. "Okay, maybe there's something there. But it's not like anything can really happen," you said, trying to temper your own rising excitement.

Every time you saw him, your heart would skip a beat, and a warm, tingling sensation would spread through your chest.

You found yourself stealing glances at him, feeling a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration with each encounter. Despite your attempts to remain composed, the mere sight of his easy smile and confident demeanor left you feeling giddy and hopeful for what might come next.

One afternoon, as you were organizing some paperwork, Carlos approached you with a cup of coffee in his hand. "I thought you might need a pick-me-up," he said with that signature smile, his fingers brushing yours as you accepted the cup.

The brief touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn’t help but stammer a thank you, your cheeks flushing pink.

Carlos's smile widened, clearly pleased by your reaction. "You're welcome," he replied smoothly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I hope it helps you get through the rest of the day," he added, lingering just a moment longer before turning to leave, leaving you feeling both flustered and elated.

As Carlos walked away, you couldn't help but replay the moment in your head, savoring the warmth of his touch and the genuine kindness in his eyes.

Your mind swirled with a jumble of emotions—anticipation, curiosity, and a growing hope that maybe, just maybe, there was more to these interactions than simple friendliness.

You find yourself unable to focus on your work, daydreaming about what might happen the next time your paths cross. . . .

It was getting closer to Christmas Day, and Carlos's visits to the golf course were becoming more frequent. Every time he came by the check-in desk, he lingered a little longer, chatting about anything and everything.

"So, are you planning to go spend Christmas with your family?" he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

You smiled, shaking your head. "No, my parents live in Mexico and I'd rather stay here for Christmas. What about you?"

Carlos chuckled, "I think I'll spend the day with my family." His eyes twinkled with a mix of excitement and holiday spirit.

"That sounds perfect Carlos. I hope you'll have a great Christmas with them," you replied.

Carlos nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Thanks! Maybe next year you can join us for a big family dinner," he suggested, his tone genuine.

You laughed softly, feeling a bit more connected. "I'd love that, Carlos. Maybe I'll take you up on that offer someday."

The conversation flowed easily, making the cold December days feel a little warmer.

The day of Christmas arrived quickly, bringing with it a quiet calmness to the golf course. Snow gently dusted the greens, and the usually bustling check-in desk saw only a handful of customers.

You had decided to work today, lured by the promise of bonus pay, but the lack of holiday cheer made the hours drag.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourself reminiscing about Carlos's invitation. The thought of being surrounded by a warm, welcoming family made the solitude sting a little less.

Maybe next year, you thought, as you glanced out at the serene, snow-covered landscape. For now, you'd focus on making the best of the quiet day, knowing that the holiday spirit could be found in the most unexpected places.

The day of Christmas arrived quickly after, and you were one of the two workers stationed at the reception desk.

The other worker, Sarah, had just gone on her long break, taking the opportunity to stroll through the snow-dusted golf course while you handled the few customers that trickled in.

The quietness of the day was both a blessing and a curse; it gave you ample time to reflect but also made the hours stretch endlessly.

As you sat there, a small group of regulars came in to get a quick round of golf in before their holiday festivities. Their cheerful banter brought a touch of the holiday spirit into the otherwise serene clubhouse.

Engaging in light conversation with them helped pass the time, and their jovial moods were infectious.

You then heard a familiar voice as you texted Mariah on the phone. "You should be focusing on me instead of your phone," the voice teased.

You looked up to see Carlos standing there, bundled up in a thick coat and scarf. "Carlos! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be with your family!" you exclaimed, genuinely surprised but delighted to see him.

Carlos chuckled, "I was, but I thought I'd stop by to check on you. I know working on Christmas can be a drag."

He leaned on the counter, his eyes twinkling with the same mix of excitement and holiday spirit from before. "Plus, I brought you a little something to make your day brighter," he said, pulling out a small gift-wrapped box from his coat pocket.

You accepted the gift with a smile, the loneliness of the day melting away in the warmth of his gesture.

"Thank you, Carlos. You didn't have to do this," you said, unwrapping the gift to reveal a beautifully crafted snow globe with a miniature winter wonderland inside. "It's perfect," you added, touched by the thoughtful gesture.

Carlos shrugged modestly, "I just wanted to bring a piece of the holiday cheer to you. Besides, who says you can't have a little fun at work?"

"You always know how to make things better," you replied, placing the snow globe on the counter where you could admire it throughout the day.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" you asked, curious about how he managed to juggle his time.

Carlos smiled, "Well, after making sure you're not too lonely here, I'm heading back to help my mom with the Christmas dinner preparations."

He chuckled, "You know how it is, I'm the oldest so it's my job to help out." You nodded in agreement, feeling a rush of admiration for his sense of responsibility.

He shrugged, "It's just what family does."

"That's really sweet of you, Carlos. Family traditions are important, and I can see how much you cherish them," you replied, feeling a renewed sense of warmth from his presence.

"I actually miss those big family gatherings, the laughter, and the chaos. But being here isn't so bad, especially now that you're here."

"Well, I hope you get to see your parents soon," Carlos said, his eyes filled with understanding and sincerity.

"Thanks, Carlos. I hope so too," you replied, handing him his scorecard as you noticed a small line forming behind him. "But for now, I'm just glad I got to see you. It means a lot."

Carlos gave you a warm smile, "Take care of yourself, and don't let the holiday blues get to you, okay?" He glanced at the next customer and nodded, "Looks like you've got some more people to cheer up. I'll see you around."

You smiled back, "Thanks again, Carlos. Have a wonderful Christmas with your family." With that, he waved and headed to his golf section, leaving you with a heart a little lighter and a desk adorned with a piece of holiday magic.

As Carlos left, the next customer approached the counter with a friendly smile. "Hi there, I was wondering if you could help me find a gift for my nephew.

"He's really into sports, especially golf," she said, her eyes twinkling with holiday excitement. "Of course," you replied, eager to assist and share some of the holiday cheer Carlos had just brought into your day.

After assisting the customer with a few suggestions for her nephew, you were finally let off for your break. Eager to catch up with Carlos, you quickly made your way to the golf section, scanning the aisles for his familiar figure.

There he was, meticulously arranging golf balls and chatting with another employee.

You decided not to disturb him, content to watch from a distance as he swung his club with practiced ease. The fluid motion of his swing sent the golf ball flying straight and true, a testament to his skill and dedication.

His focus was unwavering, and you couldn't help but admire his passion for the sport. It was clear that golf was more than just a hobby for Carlos; it was a part of who he was.

As you continued to observe, you noticed the way he effortlessly engaged with the customers and his colleagues, offering advice and sharing tips with a genuine enthusiasm that was infectious.

His charisma and kindness shone through in every interaction, making the golf section a little brighter and more welcoming. Watching him, you felt a sense of comfort and connection, knowing that even in the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, there were moments of true joy and camaraderie to be found.

"Are you going to stare all day or are you going to come here?" you heard Carlos say, snapping you out of your reverie. You blinked and realized that he was looking right at you, a playful grin lighting up his face.

With a sheepish smile, you walked over to him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just admiring your swing," you confessed.

Carlos chuckled, handing you a golf club. "No worries! Want to give it a try? It's never too late to pick up a new hobby," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with the same holiday excitement you had seen in the customer's earlier.

"I've never done golf before," you admitted shyly, gripping the club with uncertainty.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "How do you work at a golf place yet don't know how to play golf?" he asked, his tone light and curious.

You shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I guess I just never had the time or the opportunity. Plus, it always seemed a bit intimidating," you explained.

Carlos's expression softened, and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Well, today is your lucky day. Let's start with the basics. First, you want to have a good stance," he instructed, moving to position your feet correctly.

"And don't worry, I'll be right here to guide you every step of the way."

You stood in front of him and held one of his clubs, following his instructions but you missed the ball twice. "Don't worry about it," Carlos said, his voice gentle and encouraging.

"It's all about getting comfortable with your stance and swing. Let's try adjusting your grip a little bit." He carefully positioned your hands on the club, his touch steadying your nerves.

Taking a deep breath, you tried again, but the ball still didn't go very far. Carlos laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Hey, you're getting there! Remember, it's not about power, it's about technique. Just relax and let the club do the work." His confidence was contagious, and you found yourself smiling back at him.

"Alright, one more time," you said determinedly, feeling a renewed sense of excitement.

Carlos moved closer, his presence both comforting and electrifying. "Let me help you this time," he muttered, standing right behind you and placing his hands over yours on the club.

Your breath hitched as you felt the warmth of his body aligning with yours, his steady guidance making you feel surprisingly confident. "Just relax," he whispered, his voice soothing, "and let’s focus on the swing together."

With Carlos's hands guiding yours, you felt an immediate difference. The club felt less foreign, and your stance more natural.

As you swung, the ball finally took a clean, satisfying arc through the air. "There you go!" Carlos exclaimed, stepping back with a proud smile. You turned to him, beaming with excitement and gratitude. "Thank you, Carlos. That was amazing!"

He chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Anytime. Looks like you might just have a knack for this after all."

Looking at Carlos, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement and appreciation. His patience and unwavering support were more than just helpful; they made you feel seen and valued.

As your eyes met, you realized there was something undeniably special about this moment, making you wonder if this newfound connection might extend beyond the golf course.

Before you could say anything more, one of the staff called you for assistance. "Excuse me, I need to help with something," you said, reluctantly pulling away from Carlos.

He nodded, his eyes still warm and understanding. "Go ahead. I'll be right here when you're done," he assured you.

As you walked over to the staff member, you couldn't help but glance back at Carlos. He was watching you, a small smile on his face, which only made your heart race faster.

The task at hand was simple enough, but your mind kept drifting back to the moments you had just shared. Finally, as you wrapped up the assistance, you knew you couldn't wait to get back to Carlos, eager to see where this newfound connection might lead.

"Thanks for waiting," you said with a smile, walking back toward him. "So, how about another lesson? I think I could use a bit more of your expert guidance," you added, hoping to prolong your time together.

Carlos grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'd be happy to help. Let's see if we can make that swing even better." He stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your back as he adjusted your stance once more.

"Remember, it's all about the rhythm and feeling comfortable."

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

As you were closing up the pro shop, Carlos approached the desk. "Y/N, I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight?" he asked, a nervous edge to his voice.

"But what about your family dinner?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

Carlos smiled, his eyes twinkling with reassurance. "We can go after it, if you want to. My family gatherings usually wrap up pretty early."

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the excitement of spending more time with him against the potential intrusion on his family plans. But his earnest expression melted your doubts.

"Alright, that sounds perfect," you agreed, feeling a rush of anticipation.

"Great! I'll pick you up around eight?" Carlos suggested, his face lighting up with relief and joy.

"Eight it is," you confirmed, your heart fluttering at the prospect of what the evening might bring.

As you both exchanged smiles and phone numbers, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

The dress Mariah brought was a stunning crimson red, the color of a ripe pomegranate. As soon as you held it up, you could tell it was made of the finest silk, the fabric flowing through your fingers like liquid fire.

"Mariah, this dress is absolutely gorgeous!" you exclaimed, your eyes wide with delight. "I can't believe you found something this beautiful on such short notice."

"I know you, girl," Mariah said with a wink. "I knew you needed something special, so I went straight to my favorite boutique. As soon as I saw this dress, I knew it had your name written all over it."

Holding the dress up to your body, you admired the way the deep v-neckline would accentuate your collarbones, and the way the fitted bodice would hug your curves in all the right places. The skirt flowed out in elegant pleats, promising to move with grace and fluidity as you walked.

"It's perfect, Mariah. Absolutely perfect. Help me try it on?" you asked, already shimmying out of your clothes in anticipation.

Mariah helped you carefully slip the dress over your head, the cool silk gliding effortlessly against your skin. You felt a slight shiver as the fabric settled around your shoulders, and Mariah expertly adjusted the straps to ensure a perfect fit.

As you turned to face the mirror, you marveled at how the dress seemed to transform you, its rich color and elegant design highlighting your best features.

Mariah's eyes sparkled with pride and excitement as she took a step back to admire you.

"Oh my goodness, you look absolutely stunning!" she gasped, her smile widening. "This dress was made for you; Carlos won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight!"

"Do you really think so?" you asked, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

"Absolutely," Mariah reassured you. "Trust me, when Carlos sees you in this dress, he's going to be speechless. Now, let's finish getting you ready—hair and makeup next!"

You heard a knock on your door and jumped, your heart racing as you glanced at the clock. Mariah had already left after doing your makeup and hair, leaving you to savor the final moments before the big night.

You took a deep breath, smoothing down the skirt of your dress one last time before opening the door.

Carlos stood there, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you. "Wow," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You look... incredible."

You felt your cheeks flush again as you smiled shyly. "Thank you, Carlos. You look pretty dashing yourself."

He offered you his arm, his gaze never leaving yours. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting. "Let's," you replied, feeling a surge of confidence and excitement as you stepped out into the evening, ready to dazzle the night away.

That evening, you two met at a cozy Spanish restaurant not far from the golf course. As you sipped on sangria and shared tapas, the conversation flowed easily.

Carlos was genuinely interested in learning more about you - your background, your hobbies, your dreams.

"So what brought you to work at the golf course?" he asked, popping an olive in his mouth.

"Well, I've always loved the sport, and the job allows me to be outdoors and interact with people. Plus, the members are so friendly," you replied, glancing up at him through your lashes.

Carlos nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. The course has never looked better, thanks in no small part to you."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. "You're very kind. And how about you? What do you enjoy most about golf?"

"The peace and quiet, the challenge of the game... and the lovely company you get to keep these days," he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

We talked late into the night, losing track of time. You were captivated by Carlos' charm, his passion for racing, and his genuine interest in you.

As you said your goodbyes in front of your door, he gently took your hand, sending a warm, tingling sensation up your arm.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and a sense of calm contentment washed over you. The evening had been perfect, filled with laughter, meaningful conversations, and an undeniable connection that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

You felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness, wondering what the future might hold for you two. Carlos leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

"I had a wonderful time tonight," he said softly, his voice rich with sincerity. "I hope we can do this again soon."

You nodded, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. "I’d like that very much," You replied, feeling a sense of warmth and anticipation as you two lingered in the middle of the corridor.

From that night on, Carlos and you grew closer, our budding romance blossoming amidst the lush greens of the golf course. You had never expected to find such a connection with this famous Formula 1 driver, but every moment spent with him felt natural and effortless.

Our future was uncertain, but one thing was clear - you were falling for Carlos Sainz, and falling hard. . . .

You and Carlos had been dating for a few months, but you finally decided to go public with your relationship. As soon as you did, you became everyone's favorite WAG.

People were captivated by the way you and Carlos would talk in Spanish to each other, often leaving the others around you confused and wondering what you were saying.

"Me encanta cómo podemos hablar en español y nadie sabe de qué estamos hablando.," you said to Carlos one day, giggling. I love how we can just speak in Spanish and nobody knows what we're talking about.

"Yo también," Carlos replied with a smile. "Es nuestro pequeño lenguaje secreto." Me too. It's our own little secret language.

The two of you also had a tendency to judge people from afar, casting subtle glances and whispering comments to each other.

"¿Viste cómo estaba vestida?" you whispered to Carlos, raising an eyebrow. Did you see the way she was dressed?

"Horrible," Carlos scoffed. "Ella no tiene ningún sentido de la moda." She has no fashion sense at all.

Both of your friends would just shake their heads, used to your antics by now. But they couldn't help but be charmed by the way you and Carlos were so in sync, so clearly infatuated with each other.

"They're just so cute together," Mariah said wistfully. "I wish I had what they have."

"I'm right here," Her boyfriend says, carrying her bags and sighing at her disappointment.

You and Carlos would just smile knowingly at each other, happy to be in your own little world, unaffected by the attention you were receiving.

Your relationship was the envy of many, and you wouldn't have it any other way. . . .

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During summer break of F1, you, Carlos, Lando, and Carlos Sr decided to embark on a fun-filled adventure to the local golf course.

You, who had recently taken a break from your job, was determined to make the most of your time with Carlos. Armed with golf carts, the four of you embarked on a journey to the greens.

As you all arrived, the golf course was bustling with activity. The lush green landscape stretched out before them, dotted with pristine fairways and shining bunkers.

You all parked their carts side by side, ready to embark on a day of golfing camaraderie.

Excited by their newfound freedom, Carlos and Lando couldn't resist the temptation to showcase their competitive spirits.

Without even waiting for Carlos' dad to finish settling into your shared cart, they spontaneously decided to have a race with their carts. Their eagerness was palpable as they revved their engines and took off down the fairway.

As they raced, Carlos and Lando zoomed past unsuspecting golfers, eliciting a mix of cheers and startled gasps.

Their reckless behavior quickly caught the attention of others.

"Carlos, Lando, slow down before you two idiots flip those carts!" You yelled, your heart racing as you watched them careening down the golf course, their competitive spirits in full display.

However, your pleas went unheeded, as the boys' competitive spirits clouded their judgment.

Frustrated by their reckless antics, Carlos' dad turned his attention to you.

Carlos' dad turned to you, his brow furrowed. "Do you really care for my son, or is this just some passing fancy?" he pressed, his tone laced with skepticism.

You took a deep breath, feeling the frustration build within you. "Of course I care for him, more than you could ever know,"

You replied, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Carlos is the most important person in my life. He makes me laugh when I'm down, he challenges me to be a better person, and his smile lights up my world. I love the way he scrunches up his nose when he's concentrating, and the way he always remembers the little things that mean so much to me."

Your speed increased as you spoke, the golf cart practically flying down the course. "He's my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime. When I'm with him, I feel alive, like I can take on the world. He's the one person who truly understands me, who sees me for who I am, flaws and all, and loves me anyway."

You pulled the cart to a perfect stop in front of Carlos and Lando, who had finally slowed down. Carlos' dad stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise and, perhaps, a newfound respect.

"I love your son, more than anything," You concluded, your voice soft but unwavering. "He's the most important person in my life, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, even if it means yelling at a couple of reckless idiots on a golf course."

"Eres tan malo como mi hijo, una pareja hecha en el cielo." Carlos' dad said with a smirk as he slowly got off the golf cart. You're as bad as my son, a match made in heaven.

The tension seemed to ease slightly as he approached you, his stern demeanor softening.

"I see that you care deeply for him, and maybe, just maybe, that's exactly what he needs. Someone who isn't afraid to stand up to him, even when he's being a complete fool."

You let out a relieved sigh, grateful for his understanding. "I promise, I'll always look out for him, even if it means being the voice of reason when he's not thinking straight," you said, meeting his gaze firmly.

Carlos' dad nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, then I suppose I can't ask for more than that. Just remember, love isn't always smooth sailing, especially with someone as headstrong as Carlos. But if you can weather the storms together, you'll come out stronger on the other side."

"Thank you, sir," you replied earnestly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I understand that loving someone like Carlos won't always be easy, but I'm committed to facing whatever comes our way. He means the world to me, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure he knows that every single day."

Carlos' dad placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his eyes softening further. "That's all I needed to hear. Just keep being there for him, and don't be afraid to push him when he needs it. He's lucky to have someone as dedicated as you by his side."

With that, he turned to join Carlos and Lando, leaving you with a renewed sense of determination and a heart full of hope.

You sighed, trying to relax before getting off the golf cart and bringing the golf bags along with you. The weight of the bags felt lighter somehow, perhaps a reflection of the newfound understanding you shared with Carlos’ dad.

As you walked towards Carlos and Lando, you couldn't help but smile, feeling more confident in your place within this tight-knit family.

Carlos looked up as you approached, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of concern.

"Everything okay?" he asked, glancing between you and his dad. You nodded, setting the golf bags down gently. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just had a little chat with your dad," you said, your voice steady.

Carlos' expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "I’m glad," he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. "And thank you, for everything."

An overwhelming sense of warmth and contentment washed over you as Carlos' gratitude echoed in your ears. You felt a deep connection solidify between you, knowing that your commitment and love were reciprocated.

In that moment, you realized just how much you cherished being a part of his life, and you silently vowed to stand by him through whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Now let's go destroy Lando in golf," you said with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood. Carlos chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he glanced over at Lando.

"Hey! I heard that!" Lando yelled from a few yards away, feigning offense but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips. He walked over to join you both, slinging an arm around Carlos' shoulders. "You know, I wasn't planning on going easy on either of you, right?"

Carlos laughed, glancing between you and Lando. "Well, bring it on then. We're ready for the challenge." You nodded in agreement, feeling a renewed sense of camaraderie as you all headed towards the first hole.

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the course, and for the first time in a while, you felt completely at ease, surrounded by friends and the love that had become so precious to you.

As soon as Lando missed the hole and lost the game, a triumphant cheer erupted from both you and Carlos. Without a moment’s hesitation, you found yourself running into Carlos' arms, the exhilaration of victory coursing through you.

Carlos lifted you off the ground in a joyous embrace, spinning you around as your laughter filled the air.

The bond you shared felt even stronger now, forged not just through love but through shared moments of triumph and joy.

Meanwhile, Lando stood a few paces away, trying—and failing—to hide his disappointment. "Oh, come on, you two! No need to rub it in," he called out, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

Carlos set you down gently before kissing you, his lips warm and reassuring against yours. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment.

When you finally pulled back, you saw a mixture of happiness and determination in his eyes, a promise of many more shared victories to come.

"We make a pretty good team, don’t we?" he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. You nodded, feeling the truth of his words resonate deep within you.

With Carlos by your side, every challenge seemed surmountable, every moment more meaningful.

Lando, still feigning annoyance, walked up and clapped both of you on the back. "Alright, lovebirds, let's see if you can keep that winning streak going," he teased, his smile widening.

As you all moved on to the next hole, the playful banter and shared laughter reminded you just how lucky you were to have such incredible people in your life. . . .

[cognitivelypartiallyfurnished]

Things Haikyuu Boys would do in a relationship (pt. 2)

-Nishinoya, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Yaku

Part 1: Sakusa, Kita, Asahi, Hinata, Tendo

Part 3: Kenma, Kageyama, Terushima, Akaashi, Atsumu

Part 4: Ushijima, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Bokuto, Osamu

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

 Nishinoya Yu: Smiling into a kiss

A lot of times when you and Yu were kissing, you could feel his lips pulling into a smile. He just couldn’t help himself, even after sharing countless kisses he still got excited for another one from you. It became such a habit that you started smiling shortly after him while kissing, leaving you two beaming afterwards.

Iwaizumi Hajime: Wrapping you in his jacket with him when you’re cold

At first Hajime played the annoyed boyfriend when you were cold again, he didn’t quite understand how somebody could be cold all the time as much as you were. His opinion changed drastically when he took you in his jacket for the first time while you two waited outside of a street food restaurant. Feeling you closely pressed against his chest, being able to wrap his arms around you (a/n please he could suffocate me with his biceps) made him look forward to spending time with you outside in the cold season. You enjoyed it even more because now you were able to listen to his fast-beating heart while feeling absolutely content in his arms.

Suna Rintaro: His hand in your pockets

Whether it was the pocket of your jacket, sweater or the back-pocket in your jeans, when you were with Rin he somehow found a way to keep his hand on you. He would pull you close enough by your belt and then stick his hands into a pocket of yours only to whisper something in your ear. Being so impossibly close to him like that still send shivers down your spine which he noticed with a teasing grin. How would you know that he himself wasn’t as unaffected as he staged to be?

Kuroo Tetsuro: Hugs

I mean have you seen this man? I don’t want to blame it on his parental issues but I do because Tetsuro is a big hugger. He will hug you in the weirdest positions, needing your closure and comfort. The best thing for him though is when you start to hug him first, it makes his heart explode everytime. It only takes one of said hugs in the doorframe when he’s coming home from a shitty day and his mood is immediately lifted. It always made him feel like he mattered to you.

Yaku Morisuke: “This reminded me of you.”

 Since your boyfriend is playing over in Russia, he’s always bringing you something from over there when he comes to visit you. The best one yet is the one Morisuke is giving you right now, it’s a key. Looking at him with disbelief he only states “I finally found a nice apartment in Ekaterinburg and I want you to come live with me. I miss you too much and we´ve talked about it for quite some time but I wanted to wait until I found an apartment that would fit us”. This feels almost as if he’s proposing to you.

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[thyfggfy]

Hey guys,

Spending unhealthy amount of time in the tw fandom , I've noticed that , outside of a few posts here and there of people trying to recreate a Lydia Martin's looks , nobody talks about the fashion on the show.

Which is a shame , because I think that the costume department did put a fair amount of effort .It is especially commendable when it comes to (a couple of) the male characters , since even now it is hard to come across a fictional guy with a distinct fashion style.

So being a bit of a fashion enthusiast myself I've decided to w̶o̶r̶d̶ ̶v̶o̶m̶i̶t̶ compile a few posts where I talk about about the characters' style , style evolution , memorable outfits, etc. Obvioulsy , I am not going to talk about every one.I doubt anyone is interested in me waxing poetics about the twins' impecable choice of clothes.

To keep this from being just an announcement post I will start with the character that barely made the cut ... Jackson Whittemore !

He is quite fankly the first person you think of when you hear the description rich preppy asshole jock.

Clean button-ups :

knitted sweaters :

Clothes with argyle pattern :

some plaid here and there :

can't miss the leather jacket:

and a silky scarf paired up with sunglasses for when he is feeling particularly douchey :

He is only on the show for the first two seasons and he doesn't experience that much growth in the series . (At least not on screen). Though his style does seem a tad more relaxed in season 6. Less forced ? Maybe even a bit more approachable ?

and of course I have to mention his undeniable glow up in the movie where he turned into one of these gay guys that make you feel conscious for breathing weird :

Good for him.

Parts: Derek ; Liam ; Mason ; Theo ; Scott.1 ; Scott.2 ; Stiles.1 , Stiles.2

[ladey]

When I Brush Your Hair | Chapter 1

Jinx x Fem!Reader 🌙🦋🎀

Word count: 3.3k

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Y/n doesn't waste much time getting up from her bed the moment she wakes up that morning. The clock reads 9:10 AM; her own body clock typically gets her up around that time. It's always been that way.

Her bare feet touch the cold floor beneath her but she pays it no mind as she speeds over to her dresser that her dad kindly made for her years ago. Clothes are laying on the floor haphazardly, blankets hung over a chair and table, and many drawings and photos from over the years taped onto the surrounding walls. Her room always held a special place in her heart. Pulling out her drawers she yanks out the first shirt and pants she thinks are most suitable for today.

Perhaps a brown t-shirt? No no, that's too boring. She looks at it for a moment; where did she even get this? She should really pzazz it up a bit, maybe a cute bear holding a flower! And then add a tiny bow on the collar- She's getting distracted. She shakes her head and mindlessly throws the brown shirt behind her, aiming for her bed so she'd remember for later but it lands on the floor instead.

She digs out a purple tank top that has a butterfly patchwork piece sewed into the fabric. She lets out a sound of approval and places it in her lap. Not long after, she's staring at herself in the body mirror; her outfit is complete with a cropped knitted sweater and shorts. The Undercity is often humid during the warmer seasons. But since it's march she still, and must, wear her signature knee high socks. Sometimes she wears little leg warmers... oh how she loves her leg warmers. She and her aunt have knitted some together before- Hold that thought, she should go visit her later. It's only been a week but she misses her already. Good thing she doesn't live too far.

Y/n bounces down the stairs to the second floor, hoping to see her dad in the kitchen with food already sitting on the table. She is sadly disappointed to see it empty. I mean yeah it's a Monday so naturally he would already be downstairs in the shop but a girl can dream. She hates having to make food because she's so slow and makes a mess every time and she just wishes she could eat some damn food without having to wait for the preparations. She sighs to herself.

She'll just have some jam and bread.

It must be a nice day outside since it's finally not raining for once. She thinks she can just barely see the sun shining down onto the city. She loves her plants more than her life but for her own sanity, she'd love to be able to see the sun for once while sitting on the top of the buildings.

With her droopy piece of bread in hand, she goes over to the shoe closet and steps into her boots without bothering to tie the laces. She opens the door after stepping off of the last flight of stairs and looks to her right and sees her dad wiping down the front counter. She smiles.

"Hey, papa." Beck, her dad. He works as a mechanic. She can brag about it too since he's the best one known in the Undercity. It makes her feel kind of bad for the other ones too though, since that probably means he's taking all of their clients. She'd hate it if they felt discouraged by it. Everyone's talented in their own way right? Y/n likes to believe so.

Beck's beaded eyes look up from the counter and he smiles warmly at his daughter. He notices the bread in her hand and knows she's likely miffed about her lack of breakfast. His smile only widens at that thought.

"Morning, hon. How's it goin'?" Y/n walks slowly until she stands in the middle of the shop. Random parts and tools sit in boxes and shelves. A vacant can of oil sits open some feet away from her making her nose scrunch. Usually he keeps that stuff in the back until he needs it, why is it out here? It's only stinking up the room. Not that oil smells that bad, besides it reminds her of her dad. But too much is too much. She shakes the intruding thought away and looks back up to her dad who's leaning on the counter with both hands. Old burn scars peaking through the sleeves folded up to his elbows.

"Fine I guess." She shrugs. She thinks about how nice the weather is and then her mind wanders over to something else.

"Is Bean out or is she still here?" She asks. Becks eyebrows raise for a split second.

"She should still be here, I fed her not too long ago."

"Okay." Y/n stuffs her mouth with her last bit of bread and jam and skips back over to the stairs. She wonders to herself if she should take her plants out with her to sit under the sun. She'll need some extra hands though. She smiles at the idea of seeing her best blue friend. Anytime she called her that she'd say that it made her sound depressed. But she would assure her that the colour blue didn't always mean something negative. She reminded her of the ocean and blueberries.

"Bean!" Y/n calls out. She crouches down to look at the bum of the dining chairs. Nothing. No sign of her on the kitchen counter or the couch either. Sometimes she lays behind the television stand and rubs against the plugs in the outlet. Y/n leans over and looks into the crack but she's met with dust.

She throws her head back as she releases an exasperated sigh. Crossing her arms over her chest and looking around as she slowly gives up, she notices a small shadow behind the curtains covering the doors to the very small balcony. Her head tilts with curiosity. Though she's almost positive that it's Bean.

Y/n slowly crosses the small living room. She approaches the curtains that softly sway with the air blowing past them, little light shining through them casting a soft yellow glow into the room. Her hand pushes the fabric to the side and without surprise, her eyes land on the orange and white cat staring off into the street as it sits quietly.

"Hi Bean." Y/n's soft voice automatically shifts an octave higher. Usually she would stay for a moment and watch with her, but she has things to do today. She has a habit of putting things off and forgetting about them, something her aunt warns her might bite her in the ass someday. So she doesn't want that to happen today.

She scoops the cat into her arms and begins to make her journey to her desired destination; The Last Drop. She can already hear voices talking and laughing under the floor below her; she internally cries as she comes to terms with the fact that she'll have to pass some random stranger.

She manages though as she peeps out a quiet "Hello." as she avoids awkward eye contact with the man speaking to her dad, not even bothering to pay attention to what he brought in as she speeds out of the door.

"Hey, be safe!" She hears her dad yell out to her. Quickly giving him a shout, "Yup!" before she's bounding down the increasingly bustling street.

She's brought Bean out with her like this before. She's like a rag doll; never really seeming to have much care for what the girl does to her. Perhaps it could be a result of early experience. As a young child Y/n would dress the cat up in little doll clothes and fake bottle feed it milk pretending it was her baby. Beck still has a photo of one of the times he caught her somewhere in his room.

It usually takes Y/n around eight minutes to get to The Last Drop while walking. And she would run, especially since she particularly enjoys running. But unfortunately with a cat in her arms she's slightly restricted from doing so.

A couple minutes pass and she hears a familiar voice calling out to her on her left. Her steps stop abruptly, causing a person behind her to nearly ram into her. Turning around with an evidently confused expression, her eyes roam around for a second until they land on her cousin, who sits on a barrel waving at her.

"Oh, Vera! Hi!" Y/n adjusts the cat in her arms and approaches her, narrowly avoiding other people walking past her.

"Where you off to?" The redhead asks, and Y/n notices a notebook and pencil in her lap.

"Vander's place."

"Oh, nice."

"Yeah."

"Have you seen Ekko around?"

"Umm no, sorry. He's probably still at Benzo's." This makes Vera hum, almost appearing disappointed. Y/n smiles knowingly but Vera ignores it.

"Okay, that's fine!"

"Mmhm. Well, I better get going, Bean is starting to get heavy."

"Oh yeah, that's no problem! See you around!" Vera reaches out and pets the cat's head quickly before dropping her arm and letting the other girl go.

"Cya!" Y/n trudges off again. Vera was alone this morning, usually she sees her with her group of friends. However sometimes she'll catch sight of her sitting by herself scribbling in that notebook. Evidently, she's keeping secrets in there since Vera tells her everything. Y/n's not hurt though. She loves secrets, and hopes one day she'll solve whatever secret her cousin is keeping from her.

Minutes pass and the young girl can finally make out the large sign of the bar in the distance casting a glow onto the ground and heads of people standing around. It's when she pushes the door open that she clocks in on how out of breath she is. Her arms are just beginning to ache, and her steps turn heavy making eyes fall on her as she approaches the bar. Music plays quietly from a jukebox and soft chatter fills the place. She's been here countless times and feels very comfortable, in fact she feels right at home. However she's still thankful that it's morning leading to less people residing inside.

Y/n takes three long exaggerated strides before she plunks the cat onto the bar. Bean immediately stretches her limbs before sitting down and licking her paws. At the same time, Y/n is lazily slumping on the bar stool and dropping her head onto her arms resting on the counter. Boy is she tuckered out already. She slowly closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, and before she can exhale she hears a deep voice coming from in front of her.

"What did I say about having the cat on the counter?" Y/n shifts her head so her chin is now resting on her arms. Vander is hidden behind Bean who is still grooming herself in front of her. She sighs.

"Sorry." But she doesn't move.

"Strawberry lemonade?"

"Yes please." Y/n hears shifting and glasses clanking before a liquid being poured. She straightens her back at the same time Bean struts to the far end of the counter to get patted by a couple of young women squealing at her. Vander places her signature cup in front of her; pink with star and butterfly doodles scattered around the surface, topped with a straw sticking out. Y/n always drinks with a straw, she can't remember a time where she hasn't.

"Thank you." She folds her legs under her then leans over to place the straw in her mouth. She hears Vander chuckle.

"Powder is awake downstairs. Mylo is still sleeping though, so you gotta be quiet. I don't want to have to put up with his complaints about two little girls waking him up giggling again." He's serious, but anyone could still hear the smile in his tone. Y/n's cheeks are puffed out by a mouthful of juice as she looks up at him. She takes a big gulp and smiles, nodding her head and then sliding off of the stool.

"Kay-kay!" She takes a few steps towards the ladies still petting Bean. She clears her throat in an attempt to get their attention. They look so intimidating and mean, and they're petting her cat. Surely they'd understand and let her have her cat back. So why can't she just shove them to the side and grab her? It's not that hard. Just go up and say excuse me!—

"Off you go, ladies." Vander's voice booms from behind her, successfully giving them the idea though nearly making them jump in their spot. Y/n awkwardly smiles and chuckles as they see her and finally walk away. She quickly grabs Bean and proceeds to the basement.

She stays mindful about the volume of her steps as she descends the stairs, avoiding the spots where she knows creaks the loudest. Turning the knob with her small hand she slowly opens the door, peeking in as she does so to survey the room. Turns out everyone is awake. Though barely.

Y/n remembers the "mission", as she likes to call them, that the older kids went on yesterday. Vi is sitting in the chair she loves so much while wrapping her hands in a fresh pair of thin gauze, struggling to keep her eyes open. Claggor is mumbling to himself as he fiddles with his goggles that he must've slept on again, and Mylo appears to be laying on one of the sofas with a pillow over his face. Y/n silently prays that the pillow magically sticks to him so he suffocates.

"Hey, Candy." Y/n fixes her gaze onto Violet who just acknowledged her presence with slight surprise.

"Hi strawberry head." She walks over and places Bean onto the coffee table.

"Y/n?" She hears a higher pitched voice to her left and her heart rate picks up. She turns her head and her eyes spot her best friend sitting on her bed, back resting against the wall and something in her lap hidden behind her knees. Y/n's grin widens as her posture subconsciously straightens. She pats her chest in an attempt to calm her heart down and makes her way over to the bed.

"Morning Powder." The two girls giggle. Mylo is already heard letting out a muffled groan.

"Whatcha got there?" Y/n sits down on Powder's left and leans over to see what is in her hands. The bluenette pulls away from her and hides the mystery item in her arms, face pink and almost panicked.

"Nothing!" Y/n is taken aback.

"Nothing? C'mon, please lemme see."

"Noo! It's a surprise."

".....Fine." Y/n pouts. Powder smiles and twists her body so her friend can't see, and lifts the end of the blanket to hide the item underneath it. As Y/n's mind begins to wander off, she immediately recalls her plan about her plants. She practically jumps off the bed in her moment of remembrance.

"Oh yeah that's right! I wanted to take my plants up to sit in the sun but I need help. Can you come with me, pretty please? With a cherry on top?" She bats her lashes at the girl in front of her in hopes of convincing her. What was the point though? She knew Powder would submit, she always did. That's what friends are for, right? The girl smiles about to reply before Vi's voice cuts in.

"If you're going up top you need someone to go with you." Her face is stern and almost challenging as she scrutinizes the two girls from her spot on the chair. They glance at each other and start giggling as though they've been caught by some form of authority. Which is in a way true.

"And that will be you, right?" Y/n tilts her head sweetly to charm the redhead. She sighs and looks to the floor as though defeated. Mylo pulls the pillow away from his face to say,

"Please go with them." Vi glances at him and shakes her head before standing up.

"Fine. You two stay here, the cat better not be dead when I come back." She points to the boys sternly. Mylo grumbles with a couple of "Yeahs", but Clagger on the other hand looks delighted.

"Oh man. Mylo fix these for me will you? I'm gonna look for a brush." He throws his goggles at Mylo and briskly stands up in search for a brush to use on Bean. The three girls are already exiting the door, Vi shutting it behind her.

"Sooo we kinda have to go back to my place and get them. I promise there's not a lot. It's just hard trying to carry all of them at once, especially while climbing, y'know? I also like the company. Not that I'm super lonely, I have you guys.. You'd tell me if I got boring and annoying though right?"

"Alright, relax Y/n. Sounds like a plan." Vi chuckles with a comforting hand placed on the young girl's shoulder. She smiles up at her. She's always really liked Vi. She hopes to be just like her some day... or be with her? She never really thought too deeply about that. She's always been there as support. She's like an older sister she never had. She wonders if Vi sees her as a sister too. She really hopes so, cause if not then she'd be deeply embarrassed.

"You could never get boring." Powder pulls Y/n's out of her thoughts. She's smiling intently at her. Y/n wants to smile back at her but she looks down and bites her lip out of nervousness.

"Or annoying?"

"Mmm..." Powder pretends to think. Y/n playfully slaps her, both of the girls laughing and too engrossed in their own world to notice Vi telling Vander they will be gone for a while.

They talked about anyone and anything while on their way to Y/n's place, and once they started going up top they were too focused on not falling to their death or getting lost to goof around. The higher up they got the more clearer the sky above them got. Y/n was right; it is indeed a sunny day. Not too windy either, so her plants shouldn't topple over. The young girl feels her insides turn warm and her smile spread across her face, ignoring the burning sensation beginning to travel up her legs. She's thankful this particular journey consists mostly of walking up stairs and going up elevators. Climbing is such a hassle. Though stairs aren't that much better. It's boring and less riveting than climbing things and crawling through small spaces. Though if   Y/n's being honest with herself, small spaces make her slightly claustrophobic.

The moment all three of them reach the top landing of a building, Y/n jogs over to the edge. It's no sunset, but the view of the city still looks beautiful from up so high. She loved the sun, it filled her with a sense of joy and protection that she couldn't find from anything else. She sighs and turns around, seeing the other two silently admiring the view.

"Shall we give the plants a seat?" She speaks softly. And the three of them place the pots of plants on an empty table; four in total.

"I wish I could see the sun everyday." Powder mumbles, mirroring Y/n's thoughts as she stands beside her.

"Don't we all?" Vi said quietly, though it sounded like she intended for it to only be heard by herself. Y/n hums to herself. She stares back out into the city. Basking in the sun's warm embrace a little longer before the three of them have to go back home.

Chapter 2…

—

i have no fucking idea how to write vi bc she's so serious all the time 👩🏼‍🦲 i'm sorry.

[thinkingabthim]

👜👒｡✧⭒˚ ~ Tagpuan

Genre: Angst

King!Steve x Reader

Summary: loving Steve was hard, you tried your best only to realise he only liked the idea of being with someone but not the idea of you.

Word count: 848

Inspired by: the song tagpuan

warnings: swearing, cheating, spoilers from season 1

A/N: hey babes sorry for disappearing I wrote this at 4am so not proof read ty

Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins. Everyone knows him and wants to be with him. But out of all of them, he chose you. Which was surprising because you weren’t anyone special. Just a normal girl who went to school, you didn’t have any features that made you stand out. You were just average.

At first you were convinced he did it because he felt bad, or it was a dare. But once you started actually dating, it felt real. He got you gifts, he let you borrow his sweaters, he showed you off to his friends like a trophy.

It all changed a few days before Will went missing.

He started to hang with you less, instead he hung out with Nancy Wheeler, she’s a smart girl, pretty too. Their friendship never really bothered you, you had close friends with boys like them, and you also didn’t wanna seem possessive.

They were really close, super. He didn’t ask you to come over, he didn’t get you anything, Jesus Christ he even forgot your anniversary. You didn’t mind it though. Maybe he was going through something? Maybe he was busy? Stressed over school maybe?

Maybe he needed space! Bingo, that was your answer, he needed space and you’ll give it to him.

Few days go by, Will goes missing.

So does he. Not missing like gone, but missing from your life. He’s barely there anymore, you guys barely acted like a couple. People thought you broke up and sent you pity stares across the halls.

You were walking through the woods, not really safe since Will went missing and his bike was found from the woods. But you needed fresh air, not outside your house type fresh air, but a night walk in the woods fresh air.

You didn’t know how you ended up in the back of Steve’s house.

There, you saw Steve and Nancy kissing.

You let out a gasp and stumble back, accidentally breaking a stick that makes a loud sound that makes them look outside.

You were hiding near a bush trying to hold in your gasps and tears.

,, are you okay?” you heard a timid voice

You look up to see Jonathan Byers.

,, yeah, just tripped.” You excuse, wiping the tears and snot on your face.

,, are you sure?” He holds out his hand to help you up.

,, yeah” you grab his hand and got up.

,, you’re Y/n right? You date Steve Harrington.” He points out

,, yeah but uh…”

,, I saw too.” he interrupts

,, …”

,, I’m sorry that you had to see that.” he apologized

,, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” you looked at the ground.

,, I can walk you home? It’s dark out, and it’s dangerous to go out alone.” He stutters remembering what happened to his brother.

,, uh, sure, I’m sorry about your brother” you walked beside him.

,, Thank you.”

You both smile at each other as you walked in comfortable silence.

It’s been a few days since you saw Steve with Nancy. You obviously felt resentment towards Steve, but never to Nancy, no. You didn’t blame Nancy. And you did kind of understand why Steve cheated on you with Nancy. Nancy was wonderful, but you’d never blame it on her. Girls need to stick together right?

You ignored Steve, instead hung out with Jonathan. Which you enjoyed more. He comforted you, and you comforted him.

One day, Steve came in knocking on your door.

,, hey” he smiles

,, hi”

,, how are you?” He gushed

,, good, I guess” you answer him in a monotone voice.

,, okay what’s wrong with you?” He wondered

,, what’s wrong with me? What the fuck is going on with you Steve?” You swore

,, what do you mean?”

,, what do I mean? Don’t act like you didn’t fuck Nancy Wheeler the other night.” your eyes welling up with tears

,, babe please-“ he tries to grab your arm only for you to push him away

,, please what? What do you have to say for yourself? Steve you could’ve just told me that you didn’t want to anymore. You could’ve just broken it off, you didn’t have to go fuck another girl behind my back.” You argued, all your sadness has evaporated and was now replaced with anger.

,, Y/n, I was drunk please believe me.” He sobbed.

,, drunk? You were drunk Steve? You don’t have to fucking lie to me! I see the sparkle everytime you talk to Nancy Wheeler, I see how you’re interested in anything she says.” Steve stumbles back as you push him.

,, Why have YOU been hanging out with Jonathan Byers.” He asks, obviously trying to pin the blame on you.

,, I started hanging out with him because he was the one who helped me when I saw you with Nancy.” You stressed

,, Y/n-“

,, No Steve. I’m done, I’m done with you, because you are so hard to love. I think you just enjoyed the idea of being with someone, and not the idea of being with me.” You say as you shut the door.

Leaving him speechless standing in front of your house.

[airlocksandaviaries]

EVERY DATA OUTFIT EVER, RATED (pt 1)

BECAUSE YOU ASKED FOR IT

^^ THAT’S MORE THAN THREE NOTES RIGHT THERE. LET’S FREAKING GO.

#1 - The Classic Yellow Uniform (S1 version)

5/10

Simple but effective. The TNG uniform designs serve as usual. I would actually wear this. He looks good in it. It’s very basic, and the later uniform designs are better, of course, but I’m bumping up the rating in it because his tits look gorgeous.

#2 - Sherlock Data pt 1

6/10

It’s just a pipe, but it adds SO MUCH. You can tell he’s really throwing himself into the role. Boy reads a book series for the first time and automatically decides he IS the main character. Just like me fr. Not rating it higher bc I know we can do better with this style.

#3 - Dixon Hill Data pt 1

8.5/10

OUGH. That is an OUTFIT. The tie. The Hat. The HANDKERCHIEF. They sure didn’t half-ass the costumes on this one, they really gave him the full aesthetic and I am HERE FOR IT.

#4 - Lore Outfit Switcheroo

4/10

Basic, TNG, “we found somebody on a planet and we dressed them in the nearest garment we could find, which happens to look like the world’s blandest sweater.” I would have rated it lower if it weren’t for the fact that they layered a v neck and a turtleneck and made him look particularly whoreish. 

#5 - Sherlock Data pt 2

7.5/10

Look how happy he is cosplaying his favorite character! This is an odd choice for a costume, though, a robe over a collared shirt, looks kinda like pjs, or maybe I’m just illiterate in 1890s fashion. Still looks good tho. Now we’re getting somewhere.

#6 - Sherlock Data pt 3

11/10

LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT MY BOY. Benedict Cumberbatch? Robert Downey Jr?? Henry Cavill??? Never heard of em. This is the real Sherlock, a fruity lil android cosplaying his favorite character from his favorite book, bonus points for the gay roleplay with his bf Geordi (playing Watson). This is a Superior Data Look.

#7 - Stand-Up Comedy Data

7/10

Gotta be honest this was one of my least favorite Data B-Stories (aside from the one about comphet) but at least this outfit served absolute android cunt. Knocking off points for how awkward he looks in it tho. Boy pls stop torturing urself for validation from others. It’s physically killing me.

#8 - Poker Visor

3/10

Data why are you wearing that. You can literally see in the dark Data you don’t even need it. Do you think it looks stylish Data. Do you think it looks cool and that’s why you decided to wear it to every single crew poker night. At least you’re trying and that’s what counts.

#9 - One Arm Data

1/10

He arm off. Put it back

#10 - Cowboy Hat Data

🤠/10

yeehaw

#11 - Dixon Hill Data pt 2

8/10

This one is slightly more formal than his previous Dixon Hill attire, and less dramatic, but fashionable nonetheless. Fruity in a way I can’t seem to describe. Period outfits (almost) always fit this man and Idk what it its.

#12 - Strategima Gloves

-10/10

I DO NOT LIKE THOSE FINGER THINGS. THEY ARE GIVING ME ANXIETY. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO WEAR THOSE TO PLAY A STRATEGY GAME. THEY LOOK LIKE COW MILKING MACHINES. WHY ARE THERE TUBES. DATA TAKE THOSE OFF PLEASE I AM HAVING A SENSORY NIGHTMARE JUST LOOKING AT THEM

This concludes Data’s Outfits Rated, Part 1. I’ve made it through Seasons 1 and 2 by combing through footage trying to find wearing anything out of the ordinary. If I’ve missed any please feel free to send ‘em in. Part 2 will be out soon.

[writing-for-marvel]

🍁 Fall Vibes 🍁

Are you having apple cider with Bucky?

Or making pumpkin pie with Steve?

Rogers Family Recipe

(The Fall Edition)

Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

< < PART 1 (The Cookie Edition)

Summary: As the season changes to a rustling fall, a new wave of homesickness overcomes Steve.

Warnings: homesick Stevie, a tinge of angst for like 0.5 seconds, hurt comfort, fluff, implied sex

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: this is my entry for the beatiful @jadedvibes’s Falling In Love writing challenge. This can absolutely be read on its own, even though it’s technically a sequel. Thank you for this lovely ask Navy 🧡 this actually gave me inspiration which I have been severely lacking lately. Banners by @maysdigitalarts

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

The sweltering and bright summer transitioned almost overnight to a crisp and vibrant fall. A layer of orange leaves crunched underfoot everywhere you went and the scarf and pair of gloves which had migrated to the back of your closet over the warmer months saw the first rays of daylight since the frosty winter thawed to a blooming spring earlier in the year.

With the change in season, also came a shift in Steve’s mood. He had been making progress in adapting to life in the twenty-first century, but in the week since temperatures started declining and the leaves turned orange, he had locked himself in his apartment and not spoken a word to anyone.

As you opened Steve’s front door with the key you used a lot more than just for the emergencies you had initially been bestowed with it for, you noticed the state of disarray his kitchen was in. Messy bowls and spoons littered the sink, flour sprinkled the floor and splotches of sticky pastry dough were smeared on the countertop.

“Stevie, it’s just me.” You called into the otherwise silent apartment, hesitating a moment at his front door to hear his usual response welcoming you further inside. However, his reply never came.

As you walked slowly into the sitting room, it hit you how much effort Steve had made in the past few months to incorporate more modern, yet cosy furnishings in his apartment, which gave the feeling that it was indeed his home rather than a temporary safe house, something he had struggled to come to terms with after waking up from the ice.

A twinge of guilt speared into your stomach at the thought that perhaps your suggestion of updating his decor when he wasn’t quite ready for that step was the reason for this new wave of homesickness.

The creek of a door opening pulled your attention back into reality. A large figure emerged from the bedroom, shoulders slumped, dragging wool sock covered feet along the hardwood floor, bundled up in an oversized sweater.

With a distinct forlorn expression, Steve’s eyes finally met with yours. Though his eyes remained sad, the twinkle of recognition that you were the one coming to check on him was hard to miss.

He mumbled his greeting from the other side of the room and mentally you scolded yourself for not coming around sooner.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked in a soft tone, and with a quiver of his lower lip, Steve shook his head. As if you were capable of predicting the future, in the moment before his eyes brimmed with tears, you had bound over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a tight hug and snuggling into his cosy sweater.

With a sniffle, Steve buried his head in the crook of your neck, hands reaching around you and grasping onto your sweater for dear life.

You slowly rubbed circles on his back, whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he felt comfortable to either speak or let you go. You were determined to be there for as long as he needed you - the past week you had wanted to keep your space as to not overwhelm him, he had asked for time that day you both acknowledged your feelings a couple months ago, and you didn’t want to pressure him, or overstep in your position as a friend. But now seeing how miserable he truly was, you cursed yourself for not following your instincts.

“Ma’s favourite season was fall. Bucky too.” Steve disclosed tentatively without pulling away from the warmth and comfort of your body. After a moment of further hesitation, he continued with a crack of vulnerability in his voice. “Would you help me make Ma’s famous pumpkin pie? She always made it once October came around, and I’ve tried to recreate it, but failed miserably.”

Suddenly the mess in the kitchen made much more sense.

You weren’t sure you would ever be able to say no to your Stevie, but when he allowed you to pull back from his embrace, the desolation flooding his eyes fractured your heart, and you were positive you’d sell your soul for him to be happy again.

“Of course we can, today’s all about curing your homesickness.”

After doing a hasty clean up of the kitchen, and a quick run to the grocery store for more ingredients, Steve was already looking more at ease. You both had fun making the pie together, hands occasionally touching as you went to grab the same item, and smearing pastry dough on each other's noses. There were multiple moments throughout the day where you genuinely thought Steve had forgotten about being homesick.

Though you spent the afternoon reminiscing about the 40’s whilst making his Ma’s pumpkin pie recipe from scratch, Steve’s mood had completely inverted from that morning by the time the pie was placed in the oven. Your theory was because he finally had some company and wasn’t wallowing around his messy apartment by himself. If you had asked Steve, he would have advised that it was because he was spending time with you, the woman he had fallen in love with over the past few months.

It was as you were cleaning up the mess in the kitchen that Steve could finally reflect on the events of the day, and the progress he had made since finding himself in this modern age. You had been an instrumental part of him acclimatising to this new world - Steve would never have made as much headway without your patience and consideration, and now he had experienced life with you, he didn’t want to go back to a time where he was without you.

“Thank you for consoling me today, I didn’t even have to ask for you to come over, and yet you came anyway. Sometimes I need to remind myself that I don’t have to go through everything on my own.” Steve said over his shoulder as you were by the sink and he was wiping the counter.

Taking your hands out of the warm, soapy water, you turned to him, wiping the suds off with a hand towel as you spoke.

“Progress isn’t linear, Stevie - there will be harder days, where absolutely everything reminds you of the past, good days where you think there won’t be any more bad days, but I promise you, you have come so far from that day in Times Square, and I will be here in any capacity you need me to be.”

“In any capacity?” A cheeky grin spread on his face.

“You can have me however you want me, Captain.”

“Doll, you must know that I want you in every way.” Steve stated with such sincerity that your knees felt weak. “In a world that is so foreign to me, that’s full of daunting new milestones, and where I feel so out of place sometimes, I always feel safe with you.” With a jubilant smile, Steve reached out and grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him.

You could have kissed him, you wanted to kiss him, but you had made a promise with yourself that you would take it slow with Steve, let him set the pace.

“Part of me feels guilty for moving on with my life, and that I haven’t rightly earned my place here. But having spent today with you after isolating myself for the last week wishing I was back in the 40’s, it's helped me realise that it doesn’t matter what time period I’m in, it’s not until I’m with you that I truly feel at home.”

Warmth rose up through your chest and butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were his home, as he was for you.

You wanted to find the right words to convey exactly how you felt, though you thought saying you had fallen in love with him might just scare him off before he was actually yours.

“Stevie, I have never cared about anyone more than I care about you.” You squeezed his hands and poured all your earnestness into making sure he believed your words. “But I don’t want to rush you - I’m not going anywhere, you take all the time you need, I know you’ll be worth the wait.” If it were possible Steve’s smile grew even wider, and the tips of his cheeks flushed bright red.

“I don’t want to wait any more, doll. It took me almost a hundred years to find the girl of my dreams, I don’t plan on wasting any more time with you.” Steve Rogers was no liar, and this instance was no exception. True to his word, in that moment he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulled your body flush with his, and kissed you.

As his tongue slipped into your mouth, his hands found their way under your sweater, cool against your back. It wasn’t long until he lifted you to sit on the counter, and you were fiddling with the hem of his sweater as Steve placed teasing kisses down your neck.

When the buzzer of the oven timer finally sounded, the pumpkin pie fully cooked, you were both too caught up in each other to notice.

[splatsvilles-fashionista]

Splatoon 3 Fashion Challenge - Week 29:

AUGH I'm super late with this one

So the theme of the next Splatfest, which is the last 'fest of Sizzle season, was announced this week, and it's a rethread of the Money vs Love Splatfest, which has been a theme in both Splatoon 1 and 2. Love took the win both times back then, and while Fame has been thrown into the mix this time, Love still looks poised to win once again if the twitter polls I've seen is anything to go by. As such, we are throwing Money a bone with this week's theme:

Rich Stitches!

For this challenge, you can only use gear that costs 10000 cash or more to buy from the vendors. This means that the full list is as follows:

Headwear:

Howdy Hat

Tentaclinger Earring

18k Aviators

Party Hard Hat

Retro BlueFocals

Annaki Beret

Triple-Deck Specs

Ink-Black Flap Cap

Hipster Horn-Rims

SV925 Circle Shades

Glassless Glasses

Sea-Me-Nots

Gas Mask

Cap'n Cap

Ink-Tinted Goggles

MTB Helmet

Chaos Helm

Face Visor

Moto Shades

Jellyvader Cap

Glam Clam Specs

Paintball Mask

Clothes:

White inky Rider

Dark Bomber Jacket

Patchwork Bomber

Black Inky Rider

Arctic Monster Parka

Annaki Anchored Coat

Barazushi Tuff Duffel

Negastive Longcuff Sweater

Distressed Vest

Varsity Jacket

Airfhow & Hustle Jacket

Olive Ski Jacket

Blue Sailor Suit

Mountain Vest

Forest Vest

Indigo Boss Hauri

Trooper Top

Baseball Jersey

Dark Urban Vest

Shoes:

Red & White Squidkid V

Blu-Shift Moto Boots

Ink-Black Clam 600s

Hunting Boots

White Clam 600s

Red & Black Squidkid IV

Blue & Black Squidkid IV

Red Work Boots

Red Hammerthreads

Blue Moto Boots

Wasabi Tabi

White Lo-Vert Hi-Tops

Desert Chukkas

Arrow Pull-Ons

A somewhat more limited wardrobe than usual, but I am certain you can manage. Now get out there and dress like a rich kid!

Rules:

Put together an outfit of any kind follows the specified theme. Please give it a name as well!

Send it to me via ask or submission, please don’t add it to a reblog, that makes it very easy to miss! Also, please make it clear that it is a submission for the challenge and not just a regular submission.

Only one outfit per person! You can submit multiple photos of that single outfit, though.

Please include the gear you picked in the submission. It makes my life just a touch easier!  

The outfit should be submitted before Tuesday morning, as I will pick my favourite submissions to feature on Tuesday evening.

[ronanceautistic]

Okay this is me ranking characters based on how much I like their Season 5 outfits so far

Nancy Wheeler - She's Nancy'ing so hard this season. Every damn fit I see I'm like that's Nancy Wheeler For Sure. Dressing as a random profession? She'd do that. Brown-ish jacket that looks like the one from the S1 finale? Iconic. Jean jacket and pink sweater? Naturally. PASTEL PINK PANTS? Slay.

Lucas Sinclair - Lucas' outfits win every damn season tbh. I do find the WSQK sweater interesting because it's not usually his style, but presumably it's to do with the plot considering the radio station seems to be a big part of it.

Erica Sinclair - THE TINY DOGS. THE PURPLE JACKET.

Will Byers - Very Season 1-esque, I suspect on purpose. I enjoy it.

Dustin Henderson - He's Dustin'ing so hard. I think my favourite Dustin hat is S3 but I do like the new one more than the S4 one.

Mike Wheeler - He really did just wanna be Eddie Munson in S4 huh 😭 As soon as he died he went right back to the striped sweaters LMAO I love him.

Eleven - I'm obsessed with her lil bandana I'm happy for her. Also we're back to S3-ish hair. Not bad.

Joyce Byers - She's Joyce'ing so hard.

Hopper - I enjoy his jacket but there's not much else to say

Jonathan - Jonathan Byers dresses exactly the same all the time and yet I never remember any of it.

Steve - Steve's outfits are always hit or miss w/ me I either really like them or really dislike them but this season... idk they're meh.

Robin - I'm sorry man I'm trying to enjoy the outfit we've seen the most of but I just... don't. I do like her motorcycle t-shirt though and the dark blue jacket(?) seems promising.

Max - Hospital core

[mtdthoughts]

(Rough) Script of Migi & Dali Sequel Manga

Harta, the magazine that serialized Migi & Dali, released in its 110th issue (Dec 2023) a short booklet containing some artwork from Migi & Dali as well as a short 4-page sequel manga that takes place after the final chapter of the manga or final episode of the anime.

I won't be putting up the manga in this post, but if you look hard enough I'm sure you'll be able to find it somewhere. It was a fun read, and here I'll put a translated script of what happens and what is said, which includes some of my own observations and notes.

Of course, *spoiler warning* below.

PAGE 1

Migi is at his desk writing a letter to Dali, and is struggling as he has already trashed several drafts. He has the same haircut at the end of the story and is wearing a hoodie. Also, some of his artwork is on display. The window is open, and it is a bit windy, and leaves can be seen falling. It's likely that this manga takes place during the fall/autumn.

First letter: To Dali: Dear Dali, How are you doing in this season when potatoes are delicious? (*Note: This might be a mistranslation as Migi likely introduced grammatical errors. Regardless, this can be roughly interpreted as a "How are you doing?" to Dali. The potato remark is consistent with the earlier observation that the manga takes place during autumn.)

Second letter: To the arrogant jerk: Hey! Why haven't you written to me in half a year!? (*Note: This manga likely takes place roughly six months after Dali left in March 1993, which is consistent with the earlier observation that it takes place in autumn.)

Third letter(?): I'm lonely. (*Note: He writes "さびしい" or "sabishii" which could be interpreted as "I miss you" or "I'm lonely because you're not here." It's pretty sweet that despite being confident that their hearts were always connected, Migi still wants to see Dali and misses him, even though Migi was the one who stayed behind with his friends and family. I guess Dali was more confident than Migi about the claim they've made.)

Migi is visibly frustrated with his tongue out, leaning back while ripping up the letter. Migi: "Agh I can't get it out!!" (*Note: It's funny how surprisingly shy Migi is when it comes to just writing a letter to his brother)

Migi notices something. Migi: "Huh?"

PAGE 2

Sardine is at the door. Migi: "What is it Beast? There aren't any sardines here."

Migi has an idea. Migi: "Ah."

Cuts to Dali's dormitory. His roommate(?) comes in with a letter in his hand. Dali is reading a book which seems to be titled "ふたりの証拠" (roughly translated as "The Proof of Two People") Roommate: "Dali, there's a letter for you." Dali: "!"

Dali has the letter in his hand. Dali has the same hairstyle at the end of the story and is wearing glasses and his school uniform. Dali: "Huh?"

The envelope says: "From: Golden Beast"

PAGE 3

Dali reads the letter with a warm smile on his face, knowing it's from Migi and is able to read Migi's feelings through this coded language. The letter says: Dear sir: It's the season for delicious sardines right now! That's right, it's me, Sardine! Are you doing well? My hair is still soft and fluffy! Well, now that you're gone, the house is a bit emptier now… (*Note: There is a wet spot and is labeled by Migi as dog drool. I wonder if it's actually dog drool.)

Cuts back to the Sonoyama house. The phone rings. Youko: "Hello?"

Youko answers the phone. Youko: "Oh, Dali!? How have you been!? Uh huh… uh huh. How about I put Migi on the phone for now… huh?"

Youko looks surprised. Youko: "You want to talk to Sardine!?"

PAGE 4

Youko puts the phone over Sardine. Dali: "How have you been, Beast?" (*Note: It's funny and heartwarming to see Dali indulging Migi's silliness by playing along with his Sardine act)

Migi suddenly appears, kneeling and with his hand over Sardine's mouth, and pretends to be Sardine. He is now wearing a sweater and has a playful look on his face. Migi: "Woof!" (*My interpretation: "Great!")

Dali responds. Dali: "I see, I see. You aren't causing any trouble for Mom and Dad, are you?" (*Note: it's heartwarming to see Dali acknowledge the Sonoyamas as his parents)

Migi answers, with another playful look on his face. Migi: "Ahnn!" (*My interpretation: "No!")

Dali answers, and Migi continues to answer like a dog. Dali: "I see, I see." Migi: *More dog noises and panting* (*Note: I have no idea how to interpret this. I guess Migi's conveying his joy and excitement at talking to Dali)

Dali, who clearly knows he's talking to Migi, reciprocates Migi's feelings by saying that he misses Migi too. Migi is surprised, and his eyes are wide open. Dali: "I miss you too, Migi." (*Note: He uses "会いたい" which can be translated to, "I REALLY miss you" or "I want to meet/see you." Given his use of "too," Dali knows that the feeling is mutual. Migi seems to be surprised that Dali not only has completely read his feelings but also stated his own feelings directly over the phone. This isn't surprising to me since Dali was always perceptive, especially to Migi, and this shows that Dali has always been and still is the big bro)

The whole Sonoyama family is here, including Osamu and Fidelite. Osamu smiles and Youko chuckles, while Migi is frozen, visibly flustered and blushing. Sardine: "Woof!" (*Note: It's pretty cute that Migi gets bashful when it comes to his brother, like he was with Sali. This goes to show that Migi has always been and still is the little bro.)

Final thoughts: It was very heartwarming to see that even though the twins were confident that they would remain connected even when apart, they still craved interaction and company from each other, which shows that their love hasn't waned one bit.

It was interesting to see the differences in how the twins conveyed their feelings, and it really highlights the older/younger brother dynamic. Migi is the first to convey these emotions, albeit in a bit of an awkward and indirect way by pretending to be Sardine. He also chose a letter maybe because he felt a bit insecure or awkward about saying "I miss you" to Dali and perhaps was afraid of being seen as a baby. Meanwhile, Dali is more reserved but clearly feels the same way as Migi given his reaction to the letter, and is able to return these feelings directly to him via phone. Unlike Migi, Dali has no fear or shame whatsoever and is far more confident in conveying his feelings to him.

Hopefully, Dali will actually come home sometime, maybe during Christmas for example. That'd be something that I would love to see written, drawn, and/or animated.

[therealraeweber]

Not that anyone asked, but here are my predictions for the last couple episodes of wwdits s5:

Ok, so, we all know that they are currently working up to the two main events of 1. Nandor finding out that Guillermo has been turned (and essentially has cheated on him), and 2. Nandermo finally becoming canon, and the two of them getting together. I feel like most people are currently suggesting that both of those things are going to happen in the coming 2 episodes, but I'm not so sure.

I think they are currently trying to do more buildup for the vampire confession than the love confession (though obviously they are still doing lots for the latter... I mean... did you SEE Nandor clutching Guillermo's sweater this episode?!?! Ugh. My heart). But I'm not sure they would have time to do both of these events (which are both very important to the show) justice if they squeeze them both into the finale. So, unless they do the vampire confession in episode 9 and then love confession in 10, I don’t think they will both happen.

Obviously I think Nandor is going to find out about Guillermo before the end of this season. That was the overarching plot of season 5, and then they will move to something new for season 6. But the love confession is something they've been building up to, slowly but surely, for a very long time. I think that we may have to wait for the next season to see it.

I think there might be a tease of a relationship, or perhaps Nandor might confess his love, but I don’t think Guillermo would want to start any kind of relationship with Nandor while he still has this secret of being a vampire, and having cheated on him. I think Guillermo would feel too guilty about that. So, while there is a chance for a love confession to then trigger the vampire confession, immediately resulting in Nandor's betrayal, I don't think we will be getting a passionate Nandermo scene that everyone so desperately wants.

I guess it just depends who we think will make the first move. For the majority of the show I would have said Guillermo would be most likely to confess his feelings for Nandor, but after this season (and ESPECIALLY that last episode omg 🥺), I think it might actually be Nandor. Both would be very interesting... I'm so excited to see what they do with this.

So yeah, I think we may have to wait. Let the slow burn be a slow burn.

Just my thoughts. I will, as always, be incorrect.

UPDATE: After writing this I was just looking at the episode list, and I noticed that the episode title for episode 10 is "Exit Interview", with the description of "The vampires search for a missing Guillermo"... so perhaps we WILL be getting the vampire confession from Guillermo in episode 9, causing him to flee, resulting in a reuniting in episode 10... maybe there is a chance for some Nandermo scenes... though I still think they will be saving some of that for season 6.

[ripplestitchskein]

I personally loved Season 2, it was a bit rushed but I think it suffered less for the budget cuts and limited episodes than like any other show I’ve watched tbh. The unfortunate state of modern television is they don’t have time to let character’s breathe and let the plot develop gradually, especially with a cast the size of OFMD.

Each character had a little bit this season.

Frenchie really came into his own and became my fav, he was kind of the glue that held the two disparate crews together in my opinion in really subtle ways. Like just amazing job on Frenchie.

Olu really leaned into his soft boy persona and charmed and softened not only Jim last season but Zheng this season. He was instrumental in repairing her relationship with Auntie and though I would have liked more of that for it to really pay off, like us seeing more Auntie being hard and overbearing and it’s affect on Zheng and then the reconciliation I think broad strokes it was good. I was sad at the beginning that his relationship with Jim was more queer platonic but I think they handled it super well and their bond was just as strong and important.

Jim was amazing this season, really embracing that softness and dealing with their trauma even though again I would have liked to see more. Their interactions with Zheng and Auntie were limited but critical and I don’t think the Jim of season 1 would have been able to do that if they hadn’t of grown through these past 2 seasons.

Roach didn’t have as much as the rest of the crew imo but he was definitely a bit more human and less weird feral butcher. His little spa day with Wee John was super cute.

Wee John was probably my fav this season in terms of all the little details about his growth. The knitting, the drag, the sweaters. Just chef’s kiss.

I loved the soft focus on Lucius and Pete’s relationship. How it weaved in with Lucius’s trauma and how steady Pete was throughout.

Buttons got what he wanted imo. I was disappointed he didn’t have a more central role this season but if they get a third I think he’ll be critical. But even if they don’t I’m glad he was happy.

The Swede was just so cute and I love that he was the tie to Spanish Jackie and we saw more of her and a softer her because of him.

And Izzy, omg Izzy, the complete turnaround for his character, Con’s amazing performance throughout. Truly the breakout character of the season. So much to unpack with Izzy but I wasn’t upset with his ending, it felt right to me? I know many are, and I personally don’t think it’s the end for him anyway, but even if it is, looking at him from S1 to now as a whole I felt pretty good about it even though I sobbed my eyes out. I expected him to die early on so that he got to merge with the crew and repair his relationship with Bonnet and at the end find a peace with Ed was great. Would I have liked something bigger and more impactful. Always but that was a lot to fit in and I feel like they did their best with it.

Ed and Stede’s journey was straight outta fanfic. Just hit all the notes for me, again I would have liked more but what they did was satisfying and realistic and I didn’t feel like they were missing anything as far as navigating their relationship went. I would have liked to see their conversation when they decided to start the Inn, maybe some more apologies all around, but the way it was done was fine. I think too much groveling would have made it different kind of show. A central part of this genre is that the trauma and sadness is kind of brushed by and touched on lightly but not a central point you wallow in because it is ultimately a comedy show that is more silly than serious.

I love that they ended on a note we the audience could be satisfied by but still left doors open for a 3rd season. I am always terrified in sophomore seasons of cliffhangers and unresolved nonsense that we never get solved so to end it there was perfect for me.