#media is supposed to introduce us to new things

[ohbother2]

*looking at the Hazbin Hotel discourse online over the past few days*

the claims of skyrocketing media illiteracy have never been clearer to me

[emptyjunior]

It looks like with the movies taking off, everyone is on the Dune train now!! Which is very exciting, I’m glad a bunch of new people are discovering this media and reading the books, but can I recommend you the David Lynch, Dune (1984) movie.

First of all, if you are invested in the lore of the books and the deeper messaging of the story, you’re going to need to turn that part of your brain Off. If you love kick ass shit and are willing to be slightly tipsy while you watch and have a great goddamn afternoon, this is the flick for you.

Now first fun fact I’m going to share with you. David Lynch (twin peaks, eraserhead director, celebrated surrealist) turned down the opportunity to direct Return of the Jedi for this film. A film that was devastatingly slow to make, changed hands multiple times, had a pricy VFX budget of $40 million and then made barely $31 million, David Lynch turned down Star Wars to work on it. And he did this when he had never read the novel, and did not even like or engage with sci fi media. THAT’S how you know we’re really in for something.

Now this film has some big names in it! We’ve got a young Kyle MacLachlan who is rocking some Devastating outfits:

We’ve got Sir Patrick Stewert as our Gurney and Sting, lead singer of the police, playing the 15 year old Feyd Rautha! If you wanted to see a grown man, sprayed orange, basically naked playing a free wheeling maniac you are in for a treat! And another fun fact, David Lynch also did not know who these actors were, he made a mistake and thought Patrick Stewert was someone else and when Sting said he was in the police he assumed he was in an organization of lawmen.

Now these characters are familiar to you, but let me get into the unfamiliar. Lynch made some directorial executive decisions throughout this film, for I suppose the ease of the viewer? I mean an adaptation is supposed to adapt so he went let me change some stuff up👏👏👏.

Those who paid attention to Jessica’s backstory may know about the Weirding Way. This is a martial arts style created by the Bene Gesserit, and practiced by Paul. It is more than just a fighting style but also an important philosophical concept, like Aikido or how Kung Fu has foundations in Buddhism.

You may also be familiar with the quote “My name is a killing word.” This inner monologue of Paul’s refers to how his title Muad’dub will be used to spur a holy war. A simple name is what people will die and bleed for, it will be what they scream as they cut down enemies.

Dark! Intense! That’s Dune, anyways in the novel it’s easy to take your time exploring these concepts. Introducing the audience to the religious ramifications of a simple name and fighting practice and how these things can have rippling repercussions upon a society like the Freman.

Now David Lynch didn’t have time for that! He had the belief (that may be right🤷‍♂️!) That watching a bunch of people kick each other on top of a sand dune would be Lame😭😭

So he made the choice for his film that “My name is a killing word” was to be taken Absolutely Literally and invented a device where if the freman said the name Muad-dib, shit would explode.

If they said Paul’s name, they could Explode Stuff. Let it sink in how rad that is. Hell yeah man, hell yeah. Imagine me interpreting religious text that way, imagine if I made a bible movie and the moral I took from a parable is that when Jesus asked for food and everyone donated fish, I concluded that Jesus was a mutant who had fish powers and could immediately conjure fish with magic and gave him fish death rays that shot out of his hands.

So that’s what you can expect from this interpretation, the weirding way now means everyone has Lasers its rad as hell.

Some other incredible choices made! This is a spoiler, but in the novels and the new films you can see the Freman collecting every scrap of water they can. Dr Liet-Kynes, the planetologist, reveals to us it’s because they have a long, multiple generation spanding plan to fix the planet. By introducing this water back they hope to reset the ecosystem over centuries of work. The reason they have been unable to do this is because a green planet would obviously not have worms and sand who produce spice, the most coveted drug in the empire, so imperial and harkonnen forces have been stopping this from ever happening. They want to be free from oppression so that they can start to work on slowly fixing their world, a project that plays out in Paul’s adult life and has its own dramas and complexities.

In Dune 1984??? The moment, the Moment Paul lays out his cousin and throws the final punch, it begins to rain in Arrakis. As if they were all under a magical curse and were just waiting for a teenager to come fight another teenager and then the water will come back. It’s so good, it’s so funny.

Also Pugs! House Atreides official Pugs! Paul has pugs in his lap!!

This is honestly an adaptation choice that I really really like! Paul is the result of centuries of selective breeding, this practice is an artform to the Bene Gesserit and a skill that they monitor closely. It produces bizarre and sometimes terrifying results and is the reason for Paul’s existence.

I think having an animal that was also created through selective breeding, was engineered from a wolf into an animal that can hardly breathe is an incredible metaphor! A smart and identifiable symbol for the audience, I think it’s a slam dunk and the new movies should have done it to.

Anyways can not recommend this film enough.

-The body suits the bad guys wear are made out of real body bags, that actually had been used.

-David Lynch to this day hates it.

-The original cut was four hours.

-The cast and crew were sick the Entire shoot with something they called Montezuma's Revenge, which was probably just food poisoning, side effects from the constant smog because they shot the whole thing on backup generators, illness from the cockroach infestation and terrible morale.

-Frank Herbert saw it multiple times and said he absolutely loved it.

-When they ride the worms, sick rock jams play.

If you love electric guitar, lasers, worms and will forgive me for not including all the trigger warnings cause Yes this film will gross you out, then go watch this movie.

[steviewashere]

I want to write something sort of meta, hear me out on it. Sorry, if this hits too close to home. The idea came to me and I needed to get it out of my system. And...would you look at that, another half-written fic.

Steve ends up getting really into Star Wars after Dustin shows him to it. Like, so much that he gets himself involved with conventions, cosplay, collecting anything and everything he can. He's involved in a fandom space. Learns the world of fan fiction. And let's say that maybe, during his time figuring out where he wants to go with life, he picks up writing fanfic as a hobby.

It encourages him to get an English degree. Encourages him to lean more into that hobby, but then expanding upon it to write original short stories and small novels that go published. But he holds strong to Star Wars and fandom and finding his spot cemented in it. He's been a fan for...nearly forty years at this point (set in 2024, ugh I know).

And maybe he dabbles in online spaces here and there. He ignores the insufferable adults in the Star Wars fandom (the "um, actually..." guys, btw). Indulges the effort of typing out his handwritten fan fiction, ones he used to bring and pass around at conventions, ones he'd let Eddie read with a shy look in his eyes. And he posts them online, has a Tumblr account, maybe does a few short things on Twitter, definitely is on AO3 (albeit newer, having never attempted online fan work before).

But then...then he gets his first little bit of hate. Vicious, gross comments on his work. Sometimes in private messages. Even publicly, once, on Twitter. It irks him. He holds strong, he does. But then it gets worse and worse and somehow, worse. Younger people claiming he's too old, others claiming that he can't write for certain characters because they're out of his age range, that he can't ship certain people, he can't say that a character would do this or that, that Star Wars is media for a younger audience (despite being somebody who saw it "back in the day"). But that he...That he's not supposed to be there.

And that last little comment sticks with him for a long time. It makes his effort and his attention and his love for writing fanworks falter. He stops. Thinks about the characters he loves, of Leia and Han or even Luke and Han or Lando and Han (listen he loves writing Han). But then he wonders if it's even worth it, to indulge this interest anymore. Yeah, maybe he's older than the source material. Sure, maybe he was introduced to it a little later than most, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. Yet, his attention towards Star Wars completely falls away.

He stops watching it. His DVDs going dusty and unused. Starts putting away all his action figures, because what if he posts a photo one day and somebody sees them and claims that that's not for him and—

Then, he goes completely offline from fandom. Even if he still gets the emails from users who actually enjoy his stuff, ignoring them completely. Focuses on using the internet for work. For his novels, for the little stories he actually gets paid to write. But his work just isn't the same. The passion, despite being an original story and original source material, is completely dwindled.

His hobby has been stripped from him. His interest has been knocked straight out of his hands. And he just...moves on.

Even if it hurts to go down into the basement of he and Eddie's home, eyes catching on the see-through bins of original action figures, Lego sets, comic books. Even if it makes something strangle in his chest when he opens up the browser on his phone and it immediately opens to a new ship he'd been getting into: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker—because he finally picked up The Mandalorian, because he was finally talked into watching it when he had the free time.

And then it all bursts over when Eddie finally approaches him about it, when they're enjoying a night-in, sitting around lazily on their sofa.

"There's a convention coming into town," he comments, "supposedly, Hayden Christensen is going to be there. We should go, try and meet him."

Steve just grunts in response.

"Oh-kay...or we could just stay home and watch the movie?" Eddie suggests. "Been a while since I've seen Darth on screen, telling Luke about"—

"I don't want to," Steve cuts in quietly, "isn't really my thing anymore."

Silence then follows. For a beat. Then two. A third.

"Not your thing?" Eddie asks him incredulously. "Not too long ago you were raving all about that new show that's coming out! That you saw they were doing lightsaber whips and you were excited to see how they worked! What do you mean it's 'not your thing'?"

Steve shrugs. "Grew out of it or whatever. Got more important things to focus on now." He sniffs, trying to keep himself held together, grumpy and firm in his decision.

Eddie's stare drills into the side of his face. Scalding, just like that lava was in Revenge of The Sith. "Baby," he speaks softly, "did something happen? You haven't even...you don't read your beautiful little stories to me anymore. In fact, now that I think about it, I haven't even seen your lightsabers around here. What's goin' on?"

He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. A ratty plain white t-shirt that he wears now when he's lounging around the house. It used to be one with the Millennium Falcon on it, but that's tucked down far in his dresser. Not for him anymore.

"Steve," Eddie presses, "did something happen?"

His stare stays down at his lap, still fiddling with his shirt. Fingers flexing unfamiliarly in the strings, unlike the loose ones on his Star Wars shirts. "I just"—Steve heaves a deep sigh—"it's time I grow up. It's...not for me anymore. Too old for it now, I guess."

"You guess or you know? Because nobody's too old for anything. Unless, y'know, you're like eighty-nine and in terrible health and trying to hike Everest, then..."

Despite everything, Steve finds himself chuckling. A giddy little sound here and gone in a breath. He shrugs again, albeit smaller this time. Crumbling within himself. Quietly, honestly, he admits, "People were being mean to me about it online. About my writing. That I'm doing it wrong, that I—that I'm too old for it. That I don't belong because of my age." He finally brings himself to look at Eddie, blearily because his eyes are aching and wet. "I got to thinking and I...maybe I've just been too caught up in my own bliss to realize that those people are right. They're right and I shouldn't be into kids stuff anymore."

Eddie makes a soft, sad cooing noise in the back of his throat. "Oh, baby," he breathes. "Baby, those people don't know a single damn thing about your love. But...but I do. I know that you've seen every single Star Wars movie more times than I've probably eaten in my entire life. And what about all those Halloween costumes over the years? I didn't dress up like Leia for nothing, Mr. Solo."

Steve scoffs wetly. Goes to protest, but—

"And...and that handshake! The one with Dustin? You guys have had that for nearly forty fucking years! So, why bother indulging any of these...these hardasses on the internet? Did they sit next to you on the sofa as you fucking curled yourself like a shrimp and wrote every little intricate detail of a kiss between Luke and Han? Have they read your work while you blushed all shy, while you tucked your hair behind your ear and asked for the most earnest of feedback, to make sure you spelt things correctly or put a comma in the right place? These people, did they get to see you blossom and grow like a fucking bushel of roses over your hobby?

"Because I know I did. And even though you were nervous about your words on the paper, you still came to me. You still wrote and wrote and wrote until I had to bully you into breaks, just so you wouldn't ruin your poor wrists. If they had even an ounce of the passion that you do, they could write their own stories. They can make their own endings and make the characters the way they imagine them.

"They choose, instead, to—what—make fun of you because you have a space to express yourself? Because you found passion and turned it into something so beautiful, even I—a dungeon master, someone supposed to be amazing at storytelling—can't put into words? You found a way to do that, Steve. And you do that with kindness. You do it for free, mind you. If their only passion sits within sending you vitriol over people who aren't even remotely close to real, then they're the ones who don't belong.

"If I've learned anything, fandom is a space to share and bounce off each other's words. It's community and it's belonging and it's sharing what you love because you just love it. Fandom isn't bullying. Bullying is just bullying, Steve.

"And everything you've ever done in your life, in regards to fandom and outside of it, is so much better than hate. You may be a nerd or...or a little bit overzealous or whatever, but at least you aren't hateful. I think being hateful, that's worse—don't you think?"

Steve can only stare in response, fast tears down his cheeks, hands shaking in his shirt. Mind reeling. Because, yes, Eddie's right. And he maybe should've talked about it initially, but the hurt festered and festered and tangled and grew until he was nothing but an unhealed scab. And Eddie, he's the antiseptic to his uncovered cuts—the ones deep on his heart, where all his love is—even for things considered mundane, like movies, like TV shows.

"Steve," Eddie carefully murmurs, wrapping Steve's hands with his own, "you don't have to do something right to love it. You don't have to be a certain way to be happy. If Star Wars made you happy, then why give it up?"

He sniffles and chokes back on a sob. Because, again—damnit—Eddie's right. "I miss it," he admits quietly, "all I've done is miss it."

Eddie gives him a small smile. Something achingly soft that reaches deep within Steve. "Then open your arms and welcome it back, baby," he whispers, "even if you can't be online anymore, do it for yourself."

"I...I want to try it again, I'm just...scared. What if people hate it all over again? What if they're just nasty to me and shut me down and push me to the side and"—

"But what if they love it? What if your readers have missed you just as much?"

"You think?" he meekly asks.

Eddie's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "I know, actually. Your emails keep coming in on the computer's desktop because I keep forgetting to log you out. And, baby, you would not believe how many people have been eager for updates, for your return." His thumbs work into the backs of Steve's hands, warm and sure. "And, if it helps, maybe I can moderate your comments before you look at 'em? I'll read them to myself and if they're mean, I'll delete them."

Steve blows out a breathy little chuckle. "You'll just get mad at them," he gently teases. "But that doesn't sound too bad. Maybe I should try again. Not yet, though. I'm not ready."

"That's okay," Eddie assures, "take things slow. Maybe we start with watching the movies again? Getting your lightsabers back on display?"

"Can we go to the convention, too?"

"We can do whatever you want, Stevie."

For the first time in a long while, Steve finds himself smiling. "I love you," he whispers.

"I know."

[bunnysbrainrot]

Sinners - Teaser

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual content, teasing, more kinks and details to come with the full version, nothing too warning-worthy right now?

Summary: Disguised as a priest and nun on a case, time alone with Sam back at your motel is everything but holy. The taboo of your situation has Sam dealing with some… impure thoughts. Will Sam be able to contain himself?

In the past few weeks you and the Winchesters uncovered some suspicious deaths in a remote area of Georgia. The locations of the tragedies spanned over 50 miles apart, meaning that the team had to split up to cover more ground. Dean had split from you and Sam two days ago, and the night before in the motel had been fairly normal. It seemed like Dean did this on purpose; you had drunkenly admitted to him of your affection for his younger brother.

Whether or not Sam knew of this, you had no clue. And now in your nun getup, it was all too fitting that you began to pray that Sam was unaware. The two of you calmly made your way past the yellow police tape, preparing warm smiles for a victim’s family.

Sam knocked on the door, letting out a bated breath. Weren’t nuns supposed to dress modestly? Your outfit was the proper attire, but the way it hugged your curves left too much to Sam’s imagination. It was his turn to pray that it didn’t stir too much in him, to let him keep his composure.

An older man answered the door, his expression easing at the sight of your attire. Turns out this costume was better received than you thought. You had to channel your tone and proper verbiage before speaking.

“Apologies for showing up unannounced, Mr. Peters. I’m Father Jeremy, and this is our sister from a local church.” Sam waved a hand for you to introduce yourself.

You chose to use your name, seeing that this was your first nun-appearance.

“We’re here on behalf of the church to offer support for your family, but we also have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.”

Hopefully there were no questions about the nearest Catholic church, otherwise this whole façade would crumble. Mr. Peters’ face only softened further.

“I’m glad you’re here, Father, Sister,” he addressed you with a sad smile, “Please, come in.”

Sam stepped in first, using a beckoning finger behind him to have you follow him. The house was modest, but eloquently decorated. You recalled the murder that had happened, that brought you to this town, and shuddered. Mr. Peters’ daughter had been brutally murdered and discarded in a creek, signs indicating the presence of a vampire. Their daughter had been missing for two weeks before the time of death, which is what you and Sam aimed to discover.

“Mr. Peters, we are part of a youth outreach program at the church. Our aim is to help troubled youth, with restorative services and social connection. We were wondering if your daughter had any odd behaviors before she went missing. Perhaps she became more secluded?”

The man looked confused at first, “Odd behavior?”

Sam gave a small nod, “We notice that teenagers in need of help oftentimes become more distant with their families. Our goal is to provide better services to our youth, which does include finding the source issue.”

Mr. Peters have a small background of his daughter, admitting that she had become distant with the family. Not just that, but her anger had only worsened, amongst several harmful habits. It wasn’t uncommon for teens to become immersed in the occult and all things dark, but being surrounded by the wrong people can lead to harmful connections.

“I see,” Sam started, “and do you know what kind of people she was surrounding herself with?”

Another confused look from Mr. Peters.

You added, “This way, we’re able to identify warning signs - things to be wary of as our youth members meet new people.”

This seemed to clear things up, bringing out a detailed recount of his daughter’s recent social group. But, their social media had been recently deleted, preventing the family from getting their closure. As far as they knew, their daughter had made new friends, ran from home, and was found brutally murdered.

Sam’s eyes darted to you when you shifted in your seat, the fabric of your black dress sliding gracefully along your thighs. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but seeing you dressed up like this sent his mind spinning. The last thing he should be thinking of is taking you dressed like this, but he couldn’t shake it. His mind raced of scenarios the two of you could create, each one dirtier than the last.

But right now, the task at hand was covering the tightness of his pants. He leaned forward, the broad muscles of his arms flexing beneath his black shirt. Blush creeped onto your cheeks, much to the attention of Mr. Peters, who looked at you with concern.

“Sister, are you feeling alright?”

You nodded and gave a small wave, “Oh, I’m fine. Just a little warm is all. I apologize.”

Mr. Peters stood, “No need to apologize, let me get you some cold water. I’ll only be one moment.”

The room had gone oddly quiet paired with Sam’s intent stare at your face. You turned to find a concerned Sam inspecting you fully.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked softly.

A slight nod, “Yeah, it’s just stuffy in this outfit.”

“Well, once we’re back at the motel we can get you out of it.”

A beat later Sam realized how that sounded. He tried to backtrack, but Mr. Peters had already returned with your glass of water, which you gratefully sipped on. It took everything in your power to resist the images that came to mind. Sam’s hands roaming your body, stripping that baggy dress off of your body, his mouth finding every nook and cranny of your neck.

Sam seemed to have taken over the conversation for the last few moments before standing. Mr. Peters had already given a short list of his daughter’s friends, and their usual hang-out spots. Your attention snapped back to reality; you placed the water glass down with a small thank you, being pulled up by Sam.

His hand could practically wrap the entirety of your arm, his grip stable and warm. Goosebumps rose on your arms, brushing against the tough fabric of your dress. The air outside carried the comfort of fall, the breeze being cool and refreshing on your hot cheeks.

At the car, Sam reached for your door to open it for you, something completely new to the both of you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes. The movements he made to reach the handle had pulled your bodies dangerously close, fully brush against his chest, pressed into the car. A inexplicable scenario that would raise a few eyebrows, for certain.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to trip on your dress,” breathed Sam.

Honestly, he was thankful for the little slip up - being this close to you had been a wish of his, but there had never been any excuse for it to happen. Your focus shifted from his soft, hazel eyes down to his parted lips. Sam’s attention shifted to your lips, lowering to your chest for a split second. A selfish move on his part, but the damage had already been done.

Your hand fumbled for the door handle, fingers sliding over his own. The two of you shared another longing glance before getting you into the car. Sam tucked in loose bits of your dress so the door wouldn’t snag on them.

“Alright, hands and feet it, watch out,” he whispered. You noticed how his hands fumbled more than usual, surely due to the nerves. Perhaps you had been reading this wrong, maybe you had taken things too far? Maybe you had overstepped and embarrassed him?

“Thank you,” you replied, giving him a genuine smile. Sam’s cheeks flushed, unmistakably a sign that maybe your anxieties been just that. Simple anxieties from overthinking this whole thing.

Now settled in the car, the two of you made the trip back to the motel. After stepping inside you beelined for the bathroom.

At least, until Sam’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey, could I talk to you about something?”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised. You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

“What’s up?”

With the silence in the room, you took the cue to sit on the bed. Sam towered in comparison, his lean physique defined by the lamplight.

His voice softened, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get that close, I-“

“Sam, it’s okay,” you cut him off with a laugh, “don’t worry about it. I wasn’t bothered by it.”

He relaxed his shoulders. Sam began to dig through his bag for another set of clothes.

“You look good as a priest, by the way. You sell the bit nicely,” you stated.

What you said made his heart skip a beat. Was that a compliment, or just conversation? Sam couldn’t tell, so he turned to you once more with a goofy grin on his face.

“Thanks,” his expression darkened as his eyes raked you over, “You look good as a nun.”

There was no mistaking it - he was taking his time looking over you. Your breath hitched in your throat when he turned, leaned casually against the desk your bags laid on. You transfixed on the way his hands moved around his belt buckle. Mildly fiddling, but you couldn’t help but imagine him following through.

“Not my best outfit, but thank you,” you replied. Sam pushed away from the desk, slowly stepping toward the bed where you sat, tense with every step.

“I would agree there, you’ve worn better,” he commented.

You head snapped up to meet his eyes. A surprise note of flirtation filled your voice.

“Okay, so what’s my best outfit, then?”

He scoffed, “We playing twenty questions?”

You pointed to your outfits, smirking proudly at him, “Look at our getup, man, it’s like a confessional.”

A bright laugh came out of Sam; he tilted his head back as he thought.

“My answer isn’t exactly… appropriate.”

“Sam,” you laughed, “Confessional. You gotta tell me.”

He let out a groan before lowering his head, steadily giving you his answer, “Your dark jeans, and that long sleeve shirt. The, um… the one with the v-neck, you wore it almost every day over winter.”

“And that was inappropriate?”

“It’s why I like it that’s inappropriate.”

“Okay, then, why do you like it?”

The last thing you expected was for Sam to close the distance. He stepped until he was directly ahead, arms crossed over his chest as he locked eyes with you.

“It made your ass look nice.”

His tone was surprisingly serious, like he had been thinking of this answer for a while.

“Hugs your body in the right ways. And it makes your, well, chest… look nice.”

Sam humored your shocked expression but pushing things further. If you could dish it out, he could dish it back.

“What’s my best outfit?”

As you collected yourself, Sam stepped closer, bringing a hand to your cheek. He lifted your head, his thumb grazing over your cheek.

“It’s a confessional. You have to tell me,” he joked, earning a slight glare from you. That sour face melted away when Sam placed his hand beneath your chin. He tilted your head back to have you look at him.

Shit.

“Jeans,” you breathed, “V-neck black shirt.”

Sam leaned in, brushing his lips across your cheek. The closeness set your skin ablaze, each trailing lip and finger sending shivers up your spine.

“Is that all?” Sam whispered.

His eyes met yours once again, a startling seriousness lurking inside. You pushed past the shyness of your answer. The honesty could break the tension that had building all this time.

“Pajama pants… no shirt. When you just get out of the shower.”

Sam’s lips curled into a satisfied smile before planting a slow kiss to your cheek. He moved gradually to your jawline, sprinkling chaste kisses until his lips hovered over yours.

“Have you wanted this?” he asked.

Your frustration was intangible - a bottle that had been shaken too much, and ready to blow. He was centimeters, millimeters away from giving you what you’d truly wanted. The silence between you signified the utter defiance to give him this so easily.

“Confessional,” Sam’s voice reverberated against you, but he offered nothing to your pleading lips, “tell me, little nun, have you thought about this? Wanted my lips on yours?”

A small whine escaped you as Sam’s hand lowered to your throat, pressing softly to the tender flesh. The loss of blood flow muddled your thoughts into complete ecstasy, with no urgency to regain control. With just one move, it was clear to Sam that you were undoubtedly his.

You gave him a small nod. A low growl thundered in his chest before pressing into you further, laying you flat on the bed. Locks of chestnut hair framed your face, with a breathy Sam hovering his mouth over your neck.

“Nodding doesn’t count. You gotta use your words, sweetheart.”

Amidst the constriction on your throat you nodded and choked out a small, "Yes."

Sam's growing smile is all you need to know you've satisfied something deeper within him. Darkness floods his eyes seeing you like this, utterly at his will under his touch. If he'd known sooner that this would be the outcome, he'd have bought that nun outfit ages ago.

"That's better," he whispered.

------

Hi everyone! I know it's just a teaser for now, but I wanted to show you something I've been working on! I've also been pretty busy with work and writing for my book series, so things have been a bit busy for sure haha

I love you all, and I keep an eye out for the full version of Sinners!

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter four: This is why you don’t leave your Aeon unsupervised (In which you get kissed, again)

Warnings: References to violence, mentions of castration (not graphic) heavily not edited (RIP first draft, you will not be remembered)

“Ohoho this is neat!”

“It’s not neat man— more like dead meat.”

“Come on don’t be a downer! Look bro, it’s your very first wanted poster!” Boothill roughly grabbed you closer to him in good spirits as he grinned widely at the paper he’s holding with another hand— specifically, your very first wanted poster.

“I’m happy I have one but the problem is— it looks so…” You cringed, seeing your pose with a chair. Well at least they didn’t get their details wrong. “I don’t know, fuckass??”

Boothill snorted. “Nahhh don’t sweat that darling, it’s your first one after all. You should have seen mine, it’s wayyyy uglier than yours.”

“I didn’t expect to be known as some chair using murderer though.” You mumbled, it wasn’t exactly a complaint considering it was and had been technically your weapon ever since you occasionally roped yourself in Boothill’s shenanigans. “I’m just gonna have to pray the other people in the express won’t look at me weird once they see my face on the news.”

The chances of it happening were slim— you didn’t like media attention, whether it be for the purpose of turning you into a subject fit for a National Geographic™️ documentary or have your entire face on the news. Thankfully you weren’t in the level of a stellaron hunter yet, but damn the IPC sure knew spite.

“I don’t know why they even bothered with putting a bounty on my head, it was just some lackeys I helped you with sending out six feet under— wait, was it because I castrated one of them using the back of my shoe?” You blinked, brows furrowed as you continued to stare at your own poster some more as Boothill cringed and hissed through gritted teeth.

“Probably.” He said— although lacking balls himself, he felt a tinge of sympathy for the poor lad whose jewels you’ve severed using a blade you have very creatively embedded in your shoe. “Some of their folks can get reeaal petty.” He drawled. “Friend of theirs that escaped probably put that bounty on your head because they’re scared they’d be next on the clock chopping board.”

In your end you did say “Say goodbye to deez nuts!” and brutalized that poor poor man so much his friend pissed themselves and peaced out.

“Pffft.” You laughed. “Clock chopping board—“.

“Yeah yeah laugh all you want.” He rolled his eyes. “That aside, you’re a pretty thing. If you go around killing them while accompanying me they’re bound to remember your face.” He tapped you on the cheek lightly.

“Thank you?” You said, unsure.

There’s a ring in the air that you identified to have come from Boothill’s phone.

“Welp, time to go.” He said, snatching a shot glass and downing the last of the whiskey and swallowed the bullet that accompanied it.

“Later darlin’, still got some business to do.”

“Good luck!”

—————————

“It’s nice to finally meet you, time hasn’t been very kind.”

What the fuck?

Green eyes, blond hair and good looks, the man that stood before you was none other than Kirschtaria Wodime— wait no, wrong name and fandom, it’s Otto Apocalypse?? No, you internally shook your head, wrong again.

This bitch was Void Archives, and he’s the source of Welt’s old man yaoi PTSD.

And you were probably going to have a rivalry, because unfortunately for everyone in this train including yourself; he didn’t pretend he was pretentious, he was the pretentious prick.

“Well, hello and nice to meet you I suppose?” You blinked, unsure of how to approach him as you awkwardly extended your hand for a shake. Void Archives took it, surprisingly gentle with how he grasped it before giving it a firm shake.

“Void Archives.” He introduced himself but you already know that, he didn’t though.

“[Name].” You replied.

In your opinion, this man smelled suspicious. Very very suspicious, and a bigger red flag than you. (If he had the face of Otto Apocalypse then it was an automatic sus banner plastered on his profile for you, but the bit— Void Archives, doesn’t know that you know.)

You scowled the moment he was out of the room, clear displeasure displayed into your face as you thought of another way to deal with another shitshow— except the Express was involved. You didn’t know much about what happened, but you do know he caused some not so good shit for everyone.

On the bright side, you would meet Dan Heng.

Dinner was served and pleasantries were exchanged, with you remaining uncharacteristically reserved towards Void Archives. If the other two people in the express noticed this, they don’t speak of it.

———————-

You retreated to your quarters for that night and returned to your true body, surprised to find Yaoshi there with you, sitting idly as if waiting.

“I see that you already have a name.” They smiled sweetly. “And a more formed body too.. yes….this one suits you just fine indeed.” One of their many hands rested on the top of your head, taking a lock of hair in between their fingers as they looked at you with the thousands of their eyes adoringly. “You have grown well, I am glad.”

“Welcome back?” You managed to utter, much like your encounter with the Void Archives, Yaoshi too made you at a loss for words.

“You were waiting for me?” They came closer to you with a pleased expression plastered on their disturbingly ethereal face as you heard the stretching of branches and the sound of limbs being torn off again.

“You did promise you would come back to visit.” You told them. “Were you here for a while?”

“No, but I was watching you.” They shook their head gently. “You spread freedom and sow in seeds of kindness, will you liberate more from suffering?”

“I mean, I don’t like having to see shit like people being constrained. So technically, yes.” You replied to them, and they seemed pleased with that response, holding your waist with another pair of arms, caressing you in a way you would have felt as a maddening and yet detached kind of love had you been a human.

Now that you thought about it, it was no wonder Yaoshi’s followers seemed.. a little crazy.

However their hold on you seemed to be personal. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

“How kind,” They said, voice remaining sweet and expression tranquil as they pulled you closer and closer, til you’re caged in the branches and the thousands of arms— they’re ensnaring you in a hug, or at least you thought it’s a hug.

“You liberate people of their suffering, lessening their burden in the cycle of being.” They sighed like a maiden in love. Briefly, you thought of the man whose balls you severed with the back of your shoe and felt the urge to rebut Yaoshi of what they said, but ultimately chose not to speak as they didn’t seem to tire in adoring you.

You found it a little off putting but you couldn’t judge; they were free to feel anything towards you as much as you were free to think of anything towards them. They were a fellow Aeon, although if you were a mortal, you would have found this interest towards you incredibly terrifying, knowing full well how their love always ends.

While losing yourself to mara and growing branches and leaves in your body wasn’t sexy, you weren’t going to restrict Yaoshi in feeling things, so long as they don’t cause trouble to your little train.

“May you be as free as those whom you chose to be free, Kind Freedom.” The branches receded and so did their arms, with only two hands to cup your face gently. “May we meet again.” After they uttered those words, they kissed you just as they did before when you were just new to the world, then left.

If you were a human, you think you would have just gone cathartic from too many things happening at once, because what the hell was their business in kissing you in the mouth before dipping??

You did remember that Yaoshi said that they felt as if they knew you before, and thinking about it now, were the Aeons acutely aware of you watching when you were playing the game behind the screen?

No, they wouldn’t be. But you’d like to think they could feel your presence, just not identify you.

It was in the simulated universe too, so there was no way unless they actually fully interacted with you outside of it as the Trailblazer. You thought of it some more, recalling past conversations, then you remembered Lan stating your presence felt familiar too.

It still didn’t really explain why Yaoshi would be compelled to kiss you as if you were a lover— but on god, you hoped not. As disturbingly beautiful as your fellow Aeon might be, you’re well aware and lucid enough to acknowledge they’re a big fat red flag.

For a moment, you wondered if they’d ask you to marry them next, worse, they could just tell you you’re married to them and call it a day.

Could Aeons even marry?

There’s a lot for you to think about, but you brushed the thought of a marriage when you remembered the other train passenger— Mr. Blonde Prick. You groaned, at that time not noticing the noise you made was heard by the cosmos.

It was a groan for you, but for the humans who heard it certainly did not sound like it.

You told Welt to shut off the broadcast in the next day the moment you heard a very familiar intro, not wanting to hear your voice documented and broadcasted for everyone to hear again.

———————

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V (HERE),Part VI, Part VII….

And there we go for this chapter! This is just pure brain vomit but enjoy :33

[the-bed-gremlins-reading-list]

My Marriage to the Cursed Royal

Demo: Twine on Itch.io Last Update: 9/6/2024

Rating: 18+

Synopsis

When you meet with an unfortunate accident in the real world you find yourself cast into the role of the younger Medulloi sibling. Your elder brother is the Duke of Ausones, a small and recent addition to the Nasennii Empire.

For three hundred years the Imperial war machine has fueled the Nasennii expansionism across the continent of Fantasia. A war machine that has been unable to advance across the northern expanses that make up Ithel.

Imperial superstition maintains that it is unlucky for a commander to remain unwed - so when the Royal Bastard, the Emperor's cursed child, makes little headway in the campaign a marriage in absentia is arranged.

A marriage to you.

It's a new world with a spouse you have never met.

Oh, except one itty-bitty thing - Fantasia Crown Wars is one of the most popular media franchises to exist. (Oh, and a savvy fan knows that Auberon Medulloi's younger sibling died.)

Characters

Auberon Medulloi - The Duke of Blood

Your new half-brother. He's famous among fans for his brutality as a military commander and the cold calculus with which he approaches his alliances when he's introduced during the third book of the main series. You know him as your warm, slightly fussy elder half-brother who frets himself silly over taking care of your family's lands and makes you sweets when you feel sad. He's joined you in the Imperial Capital to insure that you're safe and have all the support you could possibly stand. In the books he becomes the most feared leader of a rebellion against the Nassenian throne. One that was destroyed by your spouse and leads to Auberon's eventual execution.

Lucius/Lucia Nasennia(us) - Your Spouse, the Cursed Royal (RO)

They are the emperor's eldest child, the illegitimate one whom misfortune follows like an old friend. They were born in the dead of a moonless night and gifted with the ice magic of Ithel through their mother's veins. The priesthood has sworn should they ever take the throne it will be the end of the Nasennian Empire. And yet they are among the most gifted commanders of the age, it is on them victory against Ithel and peace among the conquered lands depend. The books described them as cold and calculating. The blockbuster movie saw them behead their younger brother after arranging the death of their father. They were also supposed to be unwed.

Marcus Nasennius - The Golden Prince (RO)

The third child of the emperor and the heir to the throne after the death of their sister. Marcus has always been the charmer of the royal family, the one for whom life was easy and joyful. He's said to have been blessed by the Empire's gods - born on a bright summer day in the heat of noon, and gifted with command of light magic he has always been placed in competition with his elder brother by the court, but they were friends once. Marcus was one of the main characters of the books - and the classic prince charming had always quite popular. So popular, in fact, that after his tragic demise in the movie he was brought back to life in the television show.

Rossella Catilia - The Red Mage (RO)

The Catilia family has stood behind and beside the throne of Nasennia since the War of Sparks founded the nascent Empire. They are wealthy and powerful and Rossella is the same age as Prince Marcus. She was brought to court at a young age and raised with the expectation that she would be among those considered as his match. A marriage she's openly appalled by due to her close friendship - and lack of romantic feelings for both the royal brothers. Still she's publicly considered the picture of what an Imperial Lady should strive for. Like many Imperial nobles she has some talent as a mage with a reputation as a skilled healer. In the books Rossella played the part of peacemaker between the brothers until her sudden foreign marriage removed her from the picture during TFCW's brief period as a graphic novel. (A move her fans hated almost as much as the scarlet color her hair was colored with on those pages.)

Caerwyn - The Assassin from Ithel (RO)

Bright, obnoxious, oh, and a vampire. This Ithellen assassin was meant to be your death. You're still not sure what changed his mind, nor why he's decided to serve you as your personal "spy-slash-assassin-slash-bodyguard-slash-gossip-gatherer". Caerwyn's appeared in the plot far earlier than he should have based on the books, where he only emerges out from the shadows after Ithel's defeat. Following the demise of his homeland he had come to serve your brother, Auberon. Caerwyn is among those that is supposed to be killed by your spouse, having dramatically sacrificed himself to ensure the escape of the rebel army and leading to that arc lasting much longer than anyone expected it would.

Rune Leleux - The Knight? (RO)

Like the assassin Caerwyn, Rune Leleux has shown up in the story far earlier than they should have. In fact you have a strong suspicion that the next book that was suppose to release in a month will reveal that the person introduced as a wandering bounty hunter and oath-breaking knight stole the real Leleux's identity. The Rune Leleux you know serves as your brother's faithful knight and right hand. They've been your friend since you were children. You can't see how the soft-spoken, if sometimes sarcastic, warrior who helps you live in Fantasia could possibly be the brutal and heavily scarred murderer draped in wolf skin that the Bastard Royal hires to help assassinate the emperor and sabotage the capital's defenses.

Robin Watcher - The Bard (RO)

This sweet natured bard is a minor character in the canon - like your new identity is. Or at least, she must be, because you definitely can't remember her from anywhere. (Maybe she was one of those unnamed extra in that one made-for-tv movie that everyone prefers to forget exists?) Whoever this bard is she always seems to know quite a bit about whoever happens to be around - and, well, she's rather curious about you. (In more ways than one.) Also, no one seems to know who she is or where she came from, just that she's great with instruments and has a very pretty voice.

WIP Warning: Any information contained in this post is subject to change as the project develops. The same goes for information posts on this blog.

[spidybaby]

Delicate | Part One

Summary: A bad reputation, one contract, a very stubborn singer and a calm footballer was the perfect mix for disaster.

Warnings: cursing.

Face claim: Madison Beer (She's just the face claim. We are using songs from other artists too)

What are you supposed to do when the whole world is watching every single one of your movements?

What are you supposed to do when you feel like a deer in headlights?

What to do when your reputation is the worst?

That's the type of questions you make yourself everyday after what happened.

You blame yourself. "Maybe if I wasn't that stupid to trust people I shouldn't have, I would be fine."

But here you are. Trapped in a room with the people who tell you every single day that they told you, that you needed to be careful. And you are not happy but you took the I told you.

Do you deserve it? yes.

You thoughts were interrupted by the door being opened. You noticed the man that enters the room. A little tired, a little older than thirty five.

"I'm sorry about the time. Traffic was crazy." he says, hugging your manager. "Barcelona is crazy this time of the year."

"There's worst days." you manager says, laughing. "Y/n, come here."

You look at her, walking over to them. "Hi!"

"This is Hector, he's a friend of mine." she introduced you to the man. "He's the manager of two football players from Barcelona."

"That's so cool" you smile. "Nice to meet you, Mister Hector."

"Just Hector, love." he smiles. "I love your new song, so good."

You smile, thanking him.

"Where's your boy?" you manager asks. "I want to see him, so good he's better now."

"He's downstairs, some fans recognize him and asked him for pictures."

You look over at your manager, wondering what was going on. You try not to care and wait for this guy. You stay quiet while Hector and Aleek, your manager, talk very happy.

The door was open by a dark haired boy, he looks about your age. He was wearing some cargo jeans and a hoodie. "I'm sorry, more and more people were asking for pictures."

"Don't worry, love." Aleek says, hugging him. "You are so handsome, it's been a while since I've seen you."

"The last time was during my last game at Las Palmas." he smiles. "Nice to see you."

"Come here, love." she grab him by the arm. "Let me introduce you to Pedri." she says to you. "He's the number eight of the first team at the fc barcelona."

"Hola!" Pedri smiles.

You shake his hand, smiling at him. You still don't understand what are you doing there so early in the morning and what was the need for Pedri and Hector to be there.

"I know you are questioning what are we doing here." Hector says, standing up. "We are here to talk about a small," he pauses for a while. "Let's say a small feature."

You turn to see your manager, you are more confused than before, not understanding what they meant. How can you do a feature with him when you do music and he is a football player.

"In these past months we have register both of your activities on social media, press notes, work activities. Pedri, we know that you had a bit of a hard time with injures and with all of the rumors about girls." Aleek says.

You frown, why does that even matter?

"And you, Y/n." Hector says. "You had the success of a lifetime, you last singles were on the top of billboard, and you are even competing with Taylor Swift on the charts." he says, happy. "The thing is, you are known for partying, for being a not serious person to work with."

"That's no-" you try to say.

"Let me finish." he says, you nod. "You have a reputation that's not giving you the best times. Your campaign with Dior was over because of the rumors about you doing substance during Kylie Jenner party."

"What's the point?" you say. "Aleek, what is going on? I've never done any of those things, just freaking rumors." you try to defend yourself.

"I know that." she says, lifting her hands. "But they don't."

She threw a few magazines and some printed news titles. You grab them, you know you don't have the best reputation on US. Feeling weird that they are showing you this.

"Anywho, Hector and I have an amazing idea that involves the two of you." She smiles.

Pedri frowns, understanding before they even explain.

"We did a contract, a PR one." Hector says to Pedri. "The contract is that you two will pretend to have a relationship to change the rumours around. This will help how the two of you are perceived."

You shake your head no, "I'm not doing this." you laugh, standing up. "What gave you the right? We are people, what if Pedri has a girlfriend? what if I have someone? Where is our own will of choosing?"

"Pedri doesn't have a girlfriend," Hector says. "Pedri has groupies who mess up his reputation."

Pedri frowns again. "I don't have groupies."

"We," Aleek says louder. "are your managers." she smiles. "And WE will do whatever is necessary for the two of you to get back to a good reputation path."

You shake your head. "I won't sign." you say.

"I won't either." Pedri seconds you.

Hector laughs, "We don't need your signature." he explains, showing us a copy of the contract. "We have legal power over decisions regarding your brands."

"You can't do this." you say, feeling trapped. "Aleek, why?"

"Because, Pedri and you need this." she explains. "You don't want this rumors to make your album to flop. Do you?"

You shake your head, standing up. "I can't." you threw the papers on the table, walking outside of the room.

You run stairs down, feeling tired of the way people see you as a product. You don't want to feel like a normal person, being able to walk and not have a phone on your face.

You know that the rumors of you partying were creating problems. Even when you don't do any kind of drugs or anything bad. People like to pretend you are a junkie who pass the days drunk.

You slam the door of your apartment, throwing yourself on the couch. You cry the feelings out. Your phone is ringing, you ignore it, you know it was Aleek.

You try to calm yourself down. You hate to feel like a product of the industry. You hate to feel like an addict when you don't even live that life. You hate that when you asked your friends to defend you, they ignored you.

You grab your phone from your bag, answering without even looking. "Qué cojones quieres, Aleek?" you say, stern tone.

You were about to say more, until you hear the voice of Pedri.

"Soy Pedri." he says. "I just want to know if you are okay."

"I don't care who you are." you say, even more angry. "I don't need you worrying about me, Pedri." you say his name in this spiteful tone.

You were too angry to care who was it. You don't even think about the fact that Pedri was in the same problem that you are.

He doesn't answer, he knows you are mad and that you won't have the best answer to anybody calling you.

You then feel guilt, Pedri doesn't have to take the blame of what your manager and his did. "Pedri, I'm so sorry!" you cry. "I didn't meant to treat you like that. I'm not like this, I promise." you say, rambling a little.

You cry after saying this, sobbing and feeling even worse that Pedri took time to call you to check on you.

"Bonita, please don't cry." he says, softly.

"I don't want to do this." you say, crying on the phone. "I don't want to stain you with my reputation."

"You won't!" he reassures you. "I don't want to either, but I'm not letting you feel alone in this."

You smile at that, feeling a little bit better than you are less alone in this shit show.

"They actually already have something that we need to do." he scoff. "I feel like a fucking voodoo doll."

You chuckle at that. "That's a good term." you say to him. "I will check to see what's going on, thank you for reaching to me" you say softly, more calmed.

"Venga, don't stress." he jokes. "It's best for us to just do what they ask us. I know it's horrible to have to pretend and lie to everybody, however, I do believe that we can take something good out of this."

"Okay, I'll trust your words." you laugh, making him laugh. "I'm reading the text they sent us, I guess I'll see you."

You say your goodbyes to him. Promising to not keep crying.

You feel anxiety.

You know you have to be back to the studio to record a few songs. You don't want to, not cause of the way you left last time.

Aleek tried to contact you, she texted, she email you, even sent you a message over pinterest.

But you weren't giving up. You were mad and you wanted to show that to her. Even when you know you have to talk to her because you need to approve the album cover.

"Hello." You say, walking into the recording room.

Aleek looks at you, smiling at you. She knows you were mad but at the same time she knows this is something that you needs.

"Hola, bebé." She says.

You walk over to her, hugging her from behind. You needed this more than ever. "I don't like you right now, but I love you."

"I know you are mad, but trust me on this, okay?"

You nod, separating and walking over to the table where all the options are. You two start working on picking an album cover.

"I think this one is prettier." You say.

You hear three knocks on the door. Jake, you publicist walk in, an iPad in hand. He shows Aleek something, which she smiles to.

You don't paint mind to it. Knowing that whatever she's into, you would have to say yes in the end.

"Do you have like football, Cinderella?" Jake asks you.

You roll your eyes, knowing by your best friends boyfriend insta stories that tomorrow is going to be the clasico of la liga.

"Can I say no?"

"No." Jake laughs, making you pout.

yourusername

Liked by pedri, fcbarcelona and 2,383,385

yourusername first time coming to a game and we got a victory ✌🏻✨️ can I call myself a lucky charm?

View all 283,382 comments

fcbarcelona 🍀🏆😎

pedri 💪🏻🏆

barcelonafan PEDRI?

frenkietupatron wait... he's following her and have been liking her post for over a month... Pedri????

"Do you even know how much I hate you right now?" You ask Aleek over the phone. "I was thinking about getting take out and rawdog my show last season."

"Now you can go out and see the sunset." She says, happy tone.

"I was looking at information about Pedri, and Hector did not lie about him having groupies who got him a reputation."

"Really?" She asks, curious. "When I met him he was such a shy boy."

"Well, not anymore." You laugh. "His last rumor was an influencer whose boyfriend apparently found them in bed." You tell her.

"Well, that's what this is for." She says, explaining again the purpose of the contract. "For you to drop the reputation you have, look at yours. Missing junkie."

"Ughh." You buff, mad. "I will require you to order me take out later just for that comment."

"will do." she says, chuckling. "Text me when you are home and to tell me how it was."

"Yes, boss." You laugh, hanging up the call.

You finish with your touch up of makeup. You added mascara, some brow gel and your beloved blush.

You move from your bathroom to your room, packing everything that you were taking, a blanket to sit on, your sunglasses, some sunscreen.

You feel the vibration of your phone in the back of your shorts. You See Pedri's text, he was waiting for you in the parkin lot.

You texted back that you were going down, to give you a minute. You press the basement button, texting Aleek a picture of you in the elevator.

When the doors open you noticed Pedri's car parked in front of the elevator. You smile at him and wave.

He was about to get down and open your door but you knockn on the wintond. "Just open." You chuckle.

He does that, unlocking the door. "I was going to open it for you." he says.

"Not necessary."

"Joder, que bien huele tu perfume." (your perfume smells amazing) he says, turning to you.

You blush a little at the comment, you love when people tell you that you smelled good.

"Gracias." You smile at him. "It's Armani." You say, making a face that makes him laugh.

"It's good." he smiles. "You can leave the bag on the backseat." he says, pointing towards the back of his car.

You nod, turning to place your bag. You notice a black box with his name and some barca design. You can see some letters, some pictures, notes with hearts.

"Someone got a gift." You tell him.

"Sip, these girls who follows me since the begging of my barca career came to Barcelona for the clasico and I saw them today when I left the camp nou."

You pout, you love how cute his fans were. "That's so cute."

You love getting things from your fans, it was a little piece of them that you get to keep with yourself.

"I have a Playlist on." he says, referee to the music that playing. "Here's my phone for you to change it."

"I like bad bunny, it's fine." You smile.

The rest of the trip was calmed, you two were silent, just listening to the music. You feel weird, you don't really know what to ask him.

When you got to the beach you notice that he was wearing a pair of sneakers.

"Pedri, you can't wear that on the sand, you'll ruin them."

He sees his sneakers, nodding his head. "I was going to go to my house and get my sandals." he explains. "But if I got home, I was going to be late for picking you."

You nod, understanding his motives. "Let's do this." You smile at him., I'll take my shoes off and we both can be barefoot."

He nods, smiling at your suggestion. You two take your shoes off, leaving them in the car. You walk together to the beach. You ask him for help with the beach towel.

"So I brought fruit, I brought some juice in a box because Hector told Aleek you don't drink and I also got sunscreen cause I can tell you are not wearing any." You say, pointing at everything you got.

You pass him his juice box and the tupper with some fruit. "I love watermelon." He smiles, eating the fruit. "Gracias."

You two stay quiet for a while, the two of you just enjoying the food and juice. You want to ask him something but you are not sure what.

"How was your day?" You ask.

"E'tuvo bueno, I'm a little bit tired because of the game and todays training, but I'm good." He explains. "Yours?"

"Oh, it was good." You smile. "I recorded some snips for my next album."

"I like your music."

"En serio?" You raise an eyebrow

"Qué va!" He laughs. "Do you think I'm a liar?"

"Not at all." You lift both your hands. "What's your favorite song of mine?"

"Underground, I like that song so much." You nod, smiling at him. "But I don't think you beat Quevedo."

"No way!" You say happily. "I love Quevedo."

"Favorite song?'

"La playa del inglés."

"No, que va, you are kidding." He smiles. "That's my favorite song too."

"That crazyyyy." You say. "Okay, what's your favorite movie?"

"Buaf, I think creed."

"No, you are lying." You say, looking away.

Pedri took a little bit to catch up on your answer. "Dios, Y/n." He smiles. "No way."

"I love creed." You say.

You two laugh at how crazy the things were. Because you did not believe that it was possible for you two to have that much in common.

"Do you have siblings?" You ask, eating some of the fruit.

"Sip." He smiles at the thought of his brother. "His name is Fernando, he's a chef and lives with me." You smile at that, you can tell he's very family oriented. "You?"

"I have one brother." You say. "His name is Austin. He lives in Tennessee."

"A little bit far." He chuckles. "Do you live alone or with your parents?"

"I live alone." You smile. "I have an apartment, but I think of getting a house."

"A house is better." He confess. "When I moved on here, I was in an apartment with my brother, and we felt so weird. Apartment complex are small and a little bit expensive for what you get."

You nod, agreeing with what he's saying. "Your brother is a chef, so you don't cook?" You ask.

"Not really." He chuckles. "My mom knows how to and my dad too. They own a restaurant, Tasca Fernando."

You smile at that, feeling happy at that confession. "Here in Barcelona?"

"In Tegueste, Tenerife."

"Right, you are Canarian." You say, remembering what you read. "You played in Palmas?"

"Sip, Las Palmas. They were my first big team and now I'm in Barcelona."

"I want to say that I love your style of playing, but I don't know anything about football." You chuckle.

"I can teach you." He smiles. "I'm kinda good at it." He jokes, making you laugh.

You two keep talking about more of your likes, getting to know yourselves. You find it very interesting how someone so quiet and so reserved has such a reputation.

"And the next home match is this Friday." He tells you, after a large explanation of how La Liga works.

"Are your parents coming?" You ask him.

He then changed his demeanor. He got a lot more silent. "No, they are not coming."

"Oh no, why?"

"Well." He thinks if telling you is the right thing. "Hector won't allow me to because we are supposed to be our and be seen and having my family will distract me."

You frown, not sure how to react but surely mad that his manager dared to tell him such a thing.

"I'm sorry," you apologize.

"It's not your fault." He whispers. "It's fucked up, but I know it will be worth it."

You stayed quiet, enjoying the sound of the people around, the music that you can hear, the laughs, the screams of kids playing, the small talk that's not understandable.

You then got the idea.

"I can help you see your family." You smile at him.

He lifts his head quickly, turning to you. "What? How?"

"Okay, what if I ask my manager that we can use your family for our pr?"

He thinks for a few seconds, confused about how that would be beneficial for the two of you.

"Hector says that you have a reputation on having a lot of girls, but have you ever introduced one of those girls to your family?"

"No!"

"That's what we can say." You smile. "If you introduce me to your parents and we are seen together in the public at a game, then that means that we are serious, it's more believable."

You smile at your idea. Feeling like a smart girl.

You can't catch the look on his face, but in his mind, he's thanking you a thousand times while lifting you in the air.

"I'll tell my manager tomorrow, I have to go to the studio." You smile at him.

"Would you really?" He asks, eyes shinning with hope.

"Si!" You smile. "I'll promise I will make everything I can to get them to be at these home game."

Pedri hugs you, thanking you for making an extra effort for him to be fine.

"Now, what if we go get an ice cream?" You suggest.

He nods happy. He would give you anything you want right now. "It's on me." He says, helping you get up.

"I'll agree just because I forgot my wallet." You laugh, making him laugh.

holacom

Liked by 12,482 others

holacom Spain Golden Boy Pedri González was caught on a romantic beach getaway with our Favorite Pop Girl Y/n.

The two of them are rumored to be having more than just romance. Fans of the two of them on social media X are pointing how she was at the home game and wearing the emblematic number 8 from Pedri.

View all 2,472 comments

pedrilover35 isn't she like a junkie?

y/nxharry no 😡 that's just rumors

ferminmipatron I think she is because she's friends with the jenners and they are junkies too

y/nfan23 love this new couple ❤️ I need to get his jersey

sugarmelon I ordered his and someone named gavi 😎

messicomeback10 get a messi one

sugarmelon @messicomeback10 who tf is messi?

"Can you lower the volume on that note?" You ask your technician. "Yes, right there."

You sing the note one more time. Trying to make it perfect for layering it into the melody of the background.

"Okay, that's amazing." He says.

"Let's do the same with the chorus."

You spend the next hours doing that with other several songs. Trying to make them sound better and more effortlessly likable.

You thank Bruno, the technician. You worked with him before and you know that he knows your moods and your vibe.

"Lunch is on me tomorrow." You smile at him. "Drive safe." You hug him goodbye, walking with him to the elevator.

You press the button of the floor where Aleek's office is. You need to talk to her about bringing Pedri's parents.

You knock three times. "Come in." You hear her. You open the door and walk inside, finding her reading some papers. "Hello, baby."

"Hola." You smile.

"Are you done?"

"Yes, we got amazing beats." You smile. "Hey, I want to talk to you about something." You sigh.

She stays quiet, signal for you to keep talking an to tell her what's on your mind. You take a deep breath.

"Pedri told me that Hector told him that he can't see his family or bring them to Barcelona because that would be a distraction for our plan." You say to her.

She frowns, not aware of that. "I didn't knew that."

"I know, I just want to know if you can help me convince him to let him bring his family."

"Oh baby, but I don't thin-"

"I have a plan." You interrupt her.

She nods, making a hand signal for you to keep talking.

"So, I was doing my research on Pedri, I found out that he never once introduced his flings to his parents." You began. "And fans always say that on x, with every girl he's rumored."

You open your phone, sending her the screenshots of people tweeting that they don't believe that Pedri is with anyone because not one of his family members follow the girls.

"And if we can get people to see us together with his family, then get bag the football girls. That means that the media would stop seeing us as a fling or a fuck thing situation."

"Okay, you got my attention."

"And if we can be seen with his parents and brother, then after, we can start to post more about each other. Things here and there, discreet."

"Something private but not secret." She says.

"Exactly." You smile. "And what better than this Friday's game."

"That's in three days." She turns to see her calendar.

"Please, I know this can work." You beg. "We are doing this, all I'm asking is for you to help me get Pedri to see his family."

She narrows her eyes. "Fine, I'll help you convince Hector." She says, making you smile. "I'll show him all of these that you have."

You feel happy. You would help feel like this is less a forced situation but more like a small trade.

"Now go home, you need to rest for your interview with Vogue." She says.

"Yes, ma'am." You smile. "Bye."

You hug her goodbye and walk outside of the building. You drive home, listening to some pop for a change.

You get home and cook something easy for dinner. Watching some of your show whole eating.

You feel your phone vibrate. You picked it and see Pedri's name displayed. "Hola, camarón sin cola." You say, happily.

"Eres una jodida genio," He says. You can tell he's happy by the tone. "Hector called me and told me that he booked my parents' tickets for them to come a day before the game."

You feel happy that your plan worked. "Oh my God!" You say, jumping happy. "It worked, that's such a good news."

"Gracias, Y/n." He says softly. "I really needed this."

You pout happy. "Don't thank me." You say. "Go tell your brother or calm your parents to tell them. We can talk later."

"Vale, but I promise I'm making it up for you." He laughs. "Adiós."

You say goodbye to him. Watching your shoe for a little while. You can't help but to have a smile on your face.

You then remember that you need to post something from fenty beauty. Opening insta to post your picture with the product.

You let it there, you were focused on your show and on finishing your third plate of food. You then feel your phone get notifications.

>Aleek: kiddo, Pedri will comment on your post. Please answer.

Aleek: Let's stick with emojis for now. <

You check insta, opening the comment section. Pedri's comment was there, freshly made. You reply with two emojis. Letting people go crazy about it.

yourusername

Liked by pedri, fentybeauty and 3,273,482 others

yourusername Nothing feels better than glowing like a star with my Fenty Killawatt Glow ✨️🌙 Don't forget to get yours at @sephora_spain #FentyPartner ❤️

View all 253,382 comments

fentybeauty you are glowing ✨️

pedri 🤩✨️

yourusername ✨️🌙

pedrixferran hard launching I see 👀😦

frenkietupatron @pedri don't engage with her because the Kardashian curse might get us 😣😣😣

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl

[educatedsimps]

Ahh I'm so in love with the idea of timeskip!Kenma as a dad 🥺 You've really made me even more in love with your blog 😘 Can I please request timeskip!Kenma x fem reader where he introduces our son to his followers on his stream? Baby Kodzuken ❤️ I'd love it if his followers were a gushing in the comments about how cute the baby is and how happy Kenma is when he talks about his baby boy and us (his wife)? I love Kenma and the thought of him as a dad is just the cutest to me. Thank you so much! Take care 🫶🏻

≪ back to fics masterlist

kozume kenma x f!reader

a/n: OH MY GODSHKKAFYSYVUDNGUSYRGUKSYKS THIS IS LITERALLY THE CUTEST IDEA EVERRR OMG thanku for requesting my dear kenma anon ❤️ i'm so sorry this took WAY longer to publish than expected so THANK YOU for having the patience of an angel 😭 i really hope this was worth the wait so pls enjoy! lots of love and u take care too <33

cw: TIMESKIP SPOILERS, parenting au, domestic fluff, slice of life kinda thing, chat gg crazy bc kenma is an amazing dad. GREEN FLAG DAD KENMA

"Hey guys, welcome back. I've got a very special announcement to make today, so here we are," Kenma adjusted his camera, smiling slightly.

It was a regular Tuesday evening and you were taking the time to do some self-care, which left Kenma with his second favourite thing in the world - his son.

As a YouTuber, professional gamer, stock trader, streamer and CEO of his own company, Kenma's work schedule was extremely flexible, and both of you were grateful for that. Not only did he have various sources of income, but he could be home as much as he wanted. And being home meant being able to spend time with his precious son, Kozume Kaito.

Kaito was your six month old bundle of joy - literally. If you had told Kenma a decade ago that he'd be a dad one day, he would have never believed you. Until, that is, you had Kaito.

Even before Kaito's birth, Kenma had no idea how he was supposed to take care of and raise a whole child. He just knew that he wanted to be the best father you and Kaito could've ever asked for. And so, you saw how stressed he could got about even the tiniest of things.

"What size clothes do we buy for him? Will S or M be better? What if he's a huge baby? Let's just get one of each size... Wait, what about pacifiers? A-and bottle hoods? What shape will he prefer? Longer ones? Shorter ones? Softer or slightly tougher ones? Ugh forget it, we'll get one of each type too."

However, all his worries disappeared the moment he held little baby Kaito in his arms. Kenma had never really been a crier, but the second he laid eyes on your beautiful son, he couldn't help but let it all out in the hospital ward.

"Can you guys see me clearly?" Kenma asked. The excited responses of "YESSS" "what's the surprise??" "OMG YOU'RE SO PRETTY" "yes i can see your handsome face" confirmed that his camera was indeed working just fine. Amused, he chuckled lightly. "Great. I'll be right back."

As he left the frame, his viewers were left staring at the background screen in his office, a big logo of Bouncing Ball Corp. After a few seconds of silence, some shuffling could be heard as Kenma returned with a chubby ball of energy in his arms. The moment he stepped back into frame with his beloved son in hand, the chat exploded.

kodzukenner: NO WAY IS THAT YOUR BABY??? riceballzzz: CUTIEEEEEEEEE AHHHH nek0mab1tch: omg he has a kid ?? ADORABLE miyamiya07: hawajhjchdjvhhfjhfrsjkhfdhasjhjchjfhjvhkrh lookattheclouds: since when?! vballer1208: HE HAS A CHILD??????????????

Kenma proudly held up his son like he had won an Olympic trophy - he simply adored Kaito. Meanwhile, Kaito watched, enamoured, as comments flooded the chat. Among those comments were also questions about Kaito and even you.

He knew the news of his son would be a major surprise to his online community, especially since the two of you had very successfully hidden your pregnancy from the public. Neither of you wanted to deal with all the pressure from netizens, media and the public.

"'He has Y/n's smile'," Kenma read one comment aloud. Chuckling, he agreed, "He does, doesn't he? He's lucky to inherit the most beautiful smile on earth."

Another comment asked where you were, and when Kenma simply replied with "Doing her own stuff." some commenters gushed about how cute it was that Kenma was on "babysitting duties".

With a scrunch of his face, Kenma retorted, "It's not babysitting. He's literally my child. Y/n's just doing her own stuff, what's the big deal? Come on, y'all gotta delete those gender role stereotypes from your heads, that's so 1950s." He huffed.

"'What's his name?'" Kenma read. "Hm. Y/n and I have actually decided not to reveal his name, so we hope you'll respect our decision."

kodzukenner: omg i wonder what his name is he's so cute i'm sure his name is as cute as him! nek0mab1tch: what if they named him kodzuken bouncingballer: baby kodzuken HAHA miyamiya07: OMG BABY KODZUKEN ??

Kenma chuckled as he read the comments guessing his child's name.

"'Is he joining today's stream?'" Kenma read aloud. Turning to his son with a gentle smile on his face, he replied, "You bet. Aren'tcha, big guy?"

In response, Kaito burst into a fit of giggles, excitedly babbling and pointing at the big screen in front of him.

The comments once again exploded into cheers of happiness as Kenma sat down in his usual gaming position, but this time, with his beloved son in his lap.

a/n: i'm so sorry this is really short 😭😭 but i hope it's okay :,) tysm for requestingg! hope you liked it bae <3

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[ferrstappen]

max the extra wag l Max Verstappen

a/n: this is so bad im sorry but it just came to my mind! I hope to post the second part of the Lando break up series tomorrow, hopefully after he gets on the podium!!!!

pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader

genre: fluff

FIND THE REST OF MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE

summary: you can't keep up with all the drama outside the track, but your boyfriend keeps you updated.

It's not like you didn't check social media or that your algorithm didn't show you edits of your boyfriend driving, trauma dumping, looking cute and hot as always, but after a couple of weeks being exploited as an intern, you didn't really have the time to keep up with the usual gossip from Max's work.

Monaco GP, 2023

It was great to be home. The best of the Monaco Grand Prix was that you could sleep on your own bed, you and Max could walk back home hand in hand, stopping to buy things you may need: sweets to fill your purse to binge while sitting on the garage, the special herbal blend Max liked to have before going to bed, condoms because the last box was almost empty.

Adored and precious routine. almost.

You had to admit Monaco made you a little more nervous, not only because of the narrow streets, but a lot of important, well-known people were all over the place, and Max was the center of it all. Even after years of relationship, you still felt nervous when he looked at your with glowing eyes.

This is my girlfriend, (y/n). She has this great internship because she's the best of her class. I'm sure you've met before.

When all that was over, you chatted a bit with known photographers from the paddock, and right when you were speaking to one of them, you noticed the special white and red look of Charles Leclerc, walking hand in hand with a girl.

It didn't catch your attention immediately, but when you were back home, comfortably sitting on your bed reading an article for work while Max viewed the photographs of the day, the image sneaked in your thoughts.

"You didn't tell me about Charles and Charlotte!" you released the statement a bit harsher than expected, Max's eyebrows furrowing.

"Tell you what?" Max was confused and his face showed it, it was funny.

"Charles Leclerc? Charlotte Siné? Sounds familiar?" you said playfully rolling your eyes.

"I know who they are, schat, but I don't know the thing I was supposed to tell you about? They broke up months ago, they even announced it on instagram, although it was completely unnecessary if you ask me," The last sentence painted a smile on your face, recognizing the change of the tone of his voice, posture and facial expressions, he was ready to gossip.

"But I saw them walking together today! They were walking towards the Ferrari garage, they were holding hands and everything!"

Right in that moment, you observed how his expression changed before realizing a chuckle, his loud and gorgeous laugh that instantly made your insides flutter because it came from his stomach, his lungs; the purest laugh, your favorite.

"She is his new girlfriend, babe," Max told you and your jaw dropped. "Checo said the same thing to me and Daniel when they walked in together for the first time, Checo was sure it was Charlotte until Charles introduced us before the press conference," Now he was in full gossip mode: sitting straighter, phone left behind, blue eyes open wide.

"I'm speechless," you told him, repeating what you saw in the morning over and over again, but your feelings suddenly deviated from surprise to betrayal, playfully hitting Max's thigh. "Honey, why didn't you tell me that sooner?!"

Barcelona GP, 2023

Today you entered the paddock alone, coming straight from the hotel room after landing just an hour ago. You were sad to miss Friday, but your boss said it was vital for you to be in the office on Friday, insisting the meetings couldn't be held on Zoom.

You knew it was because he's a Mercedes fan and hoped Max would be distracted without having you there.

As if. your presence wasn't very vital during the weekend and you were well aware of it.

Admiring the amount of fans cheering for their favorite drivers, a sea of red Ferrari merchandising and flags, you walked by the Ferrari garage to greet Carlos, letting him know you (and Max) were cheering for him to get P2.

P1 belonged to your boyfriend, always.

Quickly scanning the drivers lounge you noticed the Sainz family, very close to each other, Carlos Sainz Sr. listening to everything the engineers were saying about his son's strategy and car.

But something was missing, and it was easy to notice because every friend and family of Carlos was there.

With that idea roaming, you reached your destination, grabbing a sugar free Red Bull before finding your boyfriend with his suit hanging from his hips, tightly hugging him from his waist while carefully extending your neck to meet his lips.

Max was required to stay longer on the track, Christian letting him know they added a meeting to discuss strategy because of the changing wether.

This left you with almost an hour to kill; your head resting on his thighs as he carefully juggling.

"Max, have you heard anything from the party last week? after the gp?" this got Max's attention, already knowing you had a piece of information.

"I know Lando almost hooked up with a girl from Latin America, from Chile I think? but nothing happened because his brother was staying on his flat. Charles and... ex girlfriend 2.0? made it official. Checo didn't go anywhere because last year still haunts him..." Max was mentally remembering every piece of information he'd heard during the week. "Oh, and I think Carlos was with a girl that wasn't his girlfriend? Christian said they didn't do anything, but Max Fewtrell said they left together,"

"Interesting because you know who's not in the Ferrari garage? at his home race? Isa," You told Max, which caused him to drop the colorful balls he was juggling.

"No! So it's true? he cheated?" He whisper shouted.

"Maybe they've been broken up for some time, now that I think about it I haven't seen her since testing?"

Neither Max nor you heard when someone walked in, calling for Max. Because now Max's head was resting on your legs as your fingers caressed his hair, his hands moving around as he came up with a possible theory, tying loose ends and trying to remember anything he'd heard.

The subject was forgotten once you arrived to the hotel room; lights off, eyes almost closing, but Max gasped when he remembered something Alonso mentioned during a press conference, apparently after hearing Lance talking with Esteban.

"Lance said Esteban and his girlfriend are over, do you think it's true?" Max asked you, and this brought up another thing.

"Did you hear anything about Lance cheating or whatever at his sister's wedding?" now you asked him, bodies coming closer to each other.

Now sleep was long forgotten and the only important thing was the gossipy whispers, the loud giggle leaving Max's lips when something sounded too ridiculous, and the security of knowing you'd never be the subject of those rumors.

[mariclerc]

unexpected role request here! can you do one where the situation is about the Oscar and Ollie adoption joke? where they like invite them over and spend time like a family and another fic where the timeline was when Charles introduced y/n and lily his family :))

Thank you so much for this request!! I love the idea 🥺🥺🥺 and don't worry, I will make your other request very soon!!

An unexpected role (pt.7) | cl16

Summary: you revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well. Warning: none, just fluff as usual featuring Ollie and Oscar!!

Follow the series! Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6 , Part 8, Part 9

Sunlight streams through the large windows of yours and Charles' apartment. Charles sits at the counter of the kitchen with Lily perched on a high chair wearing a bib. He's cutting up strawberries and feeding them to her, dodging sticky fingers with a smile.

In the living room, you are curled up on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on your phone. You let out a surprised laugh.

“Charles, you'll never guess what I just saw!” you say walking into the kitchen.

Charles glances up from Lily, a strawberry halfway to her mouth. “What's that, amore?” he says with his mouth full of little raspberries.

Lily happily chomps on the strawberry.

“It seems you've become a social media dad already.” you say giggling.

Charles raises an eyebrow, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “A social media what now?” He says a little confused.

You hold up your phone, showing him a screenshot. It's a tweet with a picture of you, Charles, and Lily photoshopped beside Oscar Piastri and Ollie Bearman, the caption reads: "Charles Leclerc expanding his family with the next generation of talent! #adoptdontshop #F1fam"

Charles bursts out laughing, shaking his head. Lily claps her hands, delighted by the sound. “Oh my god, these fans... they're something else.”

“So, are you thinking of breaking the news to Lily that she has new brothers?” you say teasingly.

Charles picks Lily up from the high chair, placing her on his hip as he walks over to you. “Maybe someday, when she's old enough to understand that Oscar and Ollie are more like... racing cousins, I guess?” He leans and kisses Lily's head. “Though, the idea of them all hanging out here... it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, would it? I mean, you already know them and, well, they seem to like Lily a lot!”

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile on your lips.

”You mean a whole house full of young, competitive drivers? Sounds like a recipe for chaos, you know?” you asked him.

“Maybe, but think of the stories they'd have for when they're older... "Remember that time Aunt y/n almost lost it when we turned the living room into a go-kart track?" That would be so funny!” he say grinning.

You reach out and softly touch his cheek. “Alright, alright, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. As long as they promise not to give Lily any racing ideas before she's old enough.”

Charles throws his head back and laughs, a genuine sound that fills the room. Lily joins in, giggling at the sound of her parents laughing.

“Don't worry, amour. We'll keep her grounded... For now.”

He leans in and kisses you, the promise of a playful evening with the guys hanging in the air.

***

One week later, the kitchen is a whirlwind of activity. You're juggling chopping vegetables with keeping Lily, who's sporting a bright yellow construction hat, out of the precarious piles of flour on the counter.

Charles bursts in, a wide grin on his face, followed by two young men, Oscar and Ollie, they both have shy smiles on their faces, despite already knowing them in the paddock, they tend to be a little shy.

“Here they are! The prodigal... racing sons, I suppose?” says Charles, making an exaggerated announcement when they enter.

Oscar and Ollie exchange awkward smiles.

“Hey Charles, y/n. Thanks for having us! This place smells amazing, what are we making?” Ollie says, waving friendly.

“It's nothing Ollie, we're making pizza! Lily's been demanding it all week.” You say while cleaning the flour from your hands.

Lily, perched on a stool by the counter, happily bangs a wooden spoon on a metal pot and looks up at Oscar. “Osc! Osc! Osc!” she giggles while looking at the Australian.

Oscar smiles and carefully approaches Lily.

“Hey there you girlyclerc, you want some cuddles?” He says, caressing Lily's cheek gently, she nods and extends her little hands towards him. Oscar chuckles and Ollie bumps him with his shoulder.

“So, uh, is there anything we can do to help with the dinner?” Ollie asks a little shyly as he smiles.

You smile, relieved at the offer.

“Actually, yes! Can you two keep Lily occupied in the living room for a bit, please? We need some grown-up time to get this pizza dough under control.” you smile at the young boys.

Oscar and Ollie look at each other, then back at you, a mixture of amusement on their faces.

Charles notice their hesitation. “Don't worry guys, she's pretty easy to please. Just don't let her near any markers, and maybe hide the remote... Besides, she already adores you two, so... I don't think it's a big problem.”

Oscar and Ollie share a determined look and smile.

“Consider it done. Come on, pipsqueak, let's go build a fort!” Ollie says as Lily jumps into his arms.

Oscar starts singing a children's song, earning a delighted squeal, and they disappear into the living room. You and Charles exchange a look, then you two burst out laughing.

“Maybe they'll make better babysitters than racing drivers, don't you think?” you giggled.

“Maybe... But at least they're good driving too amour.” Charles says, pulling you in for a quick kiss, flour dusting his cheek. “Now, about this reckless dough...”

Meanwhile in the living room, where Ollie and Oscar are sprawled on the floor with Lily, surrounded by pillows and blankets. Lily, wearing a princess crown made of construction paper, is holding a plastic microphone, belting out a made-up song at the top of her lungs. Oscar and Ollie, despite themselves, are smiling so hard at lily's creativity, completely captivated by their pint-sized audience.

***

You and Charles have managed to wrangle the pizza dough into a presentable shape. Flour dusts your aprons and the air smells pleasantly of tomato sauce and oregano.

“Alright, that looks good. Time to get these in the oven!” you say while wiping your hands.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream pierces the air. You and Charles exchange a panicked look.

“Lily!” Charles says exalted.

You both race towards the living room, bracing yourselves for the worst, the scene that greets you is unexpected.

Oscar and Ollie are sprawled on the floor, their faces painted in bright, uneven stripes. Lily, holding a colourful marker in one hand and a triumphantly mischievous grin on her face, stands over them. Pillows lie scattered on the floor, a half-built fort forgotten.

“Uh, she may have gotten a little carried away with the markers...” Ollie says sheepishly.

Lily lets out a giggle that's both adorable and slightly terrifying. You and Charles can't help but laugh, the tension dissolving.

“Lily, sweetheart, what did we say about markers, huh?” says Charles as he tries to keep a straight face.

Lily sticks her tongue out at him playfully and he does the same, you giggle at the father-daughter interaction.

“Well, this is certainly a first. Looks like we need to add "washing paint out of hair" to the post-pizza agenda, don't you think guys?” you say smiling.

Oscar and Ollie exchange a sheepish glance, but there's a spark of amusement in their eyes.

“Consider it payback for the flour fight Charles had us do at Monaco last year.” Ollie giggled softly.

Charles throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, a little initiation never hurt anyone!”

You shake your head, but a smile tugs at your lips. It's chaotic, messy, and completely unexpected. But as you look around at the scene - the flour-dusted kitchen, the paint-striped drivers, a giggling Lily in the middle of it all - you can't help but feel a warmth spread through you.

The sound of the oven timer cuts through the laughter, Charles pats his stomach with a theatrical sigh.

“Alright, alright, enough shenanigans. Pizza's calling! Who's hungry?” Charles says.

Lily, ever the opportunist, throws her arms up in the air.

“Dada, pizza!” Lily says smiling.

Oscar and Ollie share a look, then grin. “We could definitely use some fuel after all this... creative art expression.” Ollie says smiling.

You herd everyone towards the table, grabbing cleaning wipes on the way. Charles pulls out a high chair for Lily, her paint-streaked face a masterpiece of pure joy.

“Alright, first things first, let's get this paint cleaned up. Then pizza, maybe a movie to wind down before you two head home?” you say while wiping a smudge off Ollie's cheek.

Oscar smiles “Sounds like a plan, y/n. Thanks again for having us today.” says Oscar, wiping his face with a cloth.

Charles ruffles Oscar's hair playfully and smiles. “Anytime, mate! Just don't give Lily any ideas about supergluing my helmet on next time, alright?” he says with a chuckle.

Ollie lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

“No promises, Charles. No promises.”

As everyone settles around the table, the air is filled with a cacophony of chatter, laughter, and Lily's enthusiastic demands for more cheese. The scene fades on a warm, messy tableau of a family, unconventional as it may be, sharing a meal and a stolen moment of joy.

***

After eating the pizza, Lily, now sporting a clean face (and a suspicious orange stain on her shirt), bounces around the living room with a juice box in one hand. Oscar and Ollie are sprawled on the floor, attempting to build a precarious tower out of Legos.

“You think they'll be alright for a movie? Or will they be bouncing off the walls?” you say towards Charles while stacking some dishes in the kitchen.

“They might be a bit wired, but a good movie should tire them out eventually... What did you have in mind?” he says grinning.

You grab a movie from the shelf, a classic Disney animation.

“Something guaranteed to put them into a sugar coma... Besides, Lily's been obsessed with this lately.” you say in a sweet giggle and Charles smiled.

You return to the living room, putting in the movie. The Lego tower teeters precariously before collapsing with a dramatic crash, Lily squeals with laughter, then turns to Oscar and Ollie with wide eyes.

“Movie time! Movie time!” she says giggling. “Ollie?” she says towards Ollie, while making little hands, a sign she makes everytime she wants to be hold up in arms.

Oscar scoops her up, settling her on his lap while Ollie grabs a blanket, draping it over them both. You and Charles settle on the couch, popcorn bowls in hand. As the movie starts, a comfortable silence descends upon the room, Lily snuggles into Ollie's side, her little eyes already drooping.

A small smile plays on Charles' lips as he glances at you. You catch his eye and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. On the screen, a princess embarks on a grand adventure... In the warmth of your apartment, your own unconventional adventure continues, one messy pizza dinner and movie night at a time.

[mars-ipan]

HEY FOLKS!

sooooo. remember when i was posting about being up way too late for a powerpoint thing i was doing with friends? yeah i'm posting that final powerpoint now.

allow me to introduce you all to...

THE KOMAHINA BIBLE

(aka a demonstration in unmedicated ADHD)

120 slides. 163 MB. somewhere between 14 and 22 hours of work. sleep deprivation. influence from @anonzentimes , respected komahina scholar. this bad baby has it all this is a powerpoint presentation summarizing and analyzing just about everything you need to know about komahina in sdr2 (and a bit from adjacent media as well). we go in-depth and we prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that komahina real and love wins (loses?)

WARNING: THIS CONTAINS MAJOR END-GAME SPOILERS FOR SDR2 (AS WELL AS DR1). IF YOU WISH TO REMAIN SPOILER-FREE (OR YOU ARE SOMEONE WHO I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO KEEP SPOILER FREE (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE)) THEN DO NOT VIEW THIS POWERPOINT PRESENTATION UNTIL YOU KNOW. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU HAVING BEEN SPOILED

ok cool! some other things to keep in mind under the cut:

THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED. IF YOU DO NOT SHIP KOMAHINA THAT'S LITERALLY SO FINE I KNOW THERE IS KOMAEDA SEXUALITY DISCOURSE GOING ON RN FOR SOME GODFORSAKEN REASON KNOW THAT I DO NOT THINK EVERYONE HAS TO SHIP KOMAHINA PLEASE I'M LITERALLY A MULTISHIPPER PLEASE. PLEASE DO NOT CRUCIFY ME FOR FUNNY YAOI POWERPOINT

i made this powerpoint in two sittings across 2 days, each sitting about 8-12 hours long

i got about 7 total hours of sleep in that time. not for each day- total. i was mad scientist delirious by the end of this

originally, i wanted to include far more- i wanted to analyze other media in depth (like the stageplays, the drama CD, komaeda's official songs, and even official art and materials) but i did not have the time for it. maybe i will make a new testament powerpoint detailing these as well as fandom analysis but that is not currently in the works

this is a presentation! as such the intended way to consume it is As A Presentation! unfortunately i am not someone who records videos so i cannot present it to you. if you would like to present it to you feel free. if you would like to present it to your friends feel free. if you would like to present it to the internet i'm honored but would like for you to talk to me about it first. cool

the original target audience for this was my friends and not all of them are anime people so. i am using the more english-friendly terms (as well as first names). i don't think this will bug any of you but i'm making it clear anyways

all art included in the presentation is credited with a caption linking back directly to the original artist's account. if you see your art in here and you do not want your art in here: let me know! i will take it down immediately and without question.

i may have missed some details/glossed over some things! if you think i've made a mistake somewhere or have missed something important, talk to me about it! i'd love to discuss it and if i make the new testament sequel powerpoint then i will include your corrections at the beginning :)

a lot of the jokes i make happen in the transitions of this powerpoint. some of them use audio- click on the little speaker icon to play the audio and time the animations yourself i suppose. i'd recommend playing it as a slideshow ^-^

have any questions about a particular point i make? ask me! i will elaborate for you

ok that's all i can think of!! have fun folks :]

[katelynnwrites]

What Would You Do, Baby, If You Only Knew? (That I Can See You) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: not proof read 😅

word count: 5618

summary: you don’t think feli can see you but she can…what would you do if you only knew?

a/n: requested and based off taylor swift’s i can see you 🥰

You’re used to hiding behind the lens of a camera.

It started as a hobby when you were growing up, a way for you to capture moments you didn’t want to forget. It allowed you to be involved in whatever was going on while still staying true to your quiet and shy personality.

Years later and that hasn’t changed even though you have managed to turn your hobby into a full time career.

Working as a professional sports photographer, you have the once in a lifetime opportunity to meet elite athletes and watch them be at the top of the game, all the while living your childhood dream.

You love it and now that you are working for VfL Wolfsburg, you’re enjoying your life even more. Germany is a fascinating country and you are privileged to be able to photograph as many parts of it as you’re able to on your off days.

The staff members of the German football club, your fellow colleagues are lovely and the players you are tasked to photograph are even more so.

They’re a funny, charismatic lot that have absolutely no hesitation in trying to draw you into their chaos.

While you do appreciate their efforts, you are happier watching them enjoy themselves than when you’re actually participating.

Though in the aftermath of a huge win against Bayern, their joy is infectious and it’s the reason why you have a soft grin on your face as you look through the viewfinder of your camera.

As you snap away, trying to catch as many smiling faces in the ongoing locker room party as you can, you revel in the satisfying clicks of your camera shutter.

A few of the players are going out of their way to pose for you, their antics making you laugh as you continue to capture their raw happiness.

Though there is one particular face that you can’t help searching for.

You know that you’re not supposed to be biased, that you are meant to be taking photos of all the players equally but you just can’t seem to help how your camera unconsciously finds one Felicitas Rauch.

It has always been that way with you, from the very first moment you arrived at a training session.

You were introduced to the team and then left alone to start your new job and take photos of them training.

Feli’s big smile, one that seems almost too big for her face at times had quickly become your favourite sight.

Through the nature of your skillset, you’ve seen a lot of pretty things but you’re certain that the word pretty doesn’t do the German fullback justice.

She’s absolutely beautiful. The kind of beautiful that steals the very air out of your lungs.

You know fullbacks are rarely recognised and appreciated for the work they do but you can see Felicitas. You are convinced that she deserves more attention and you hope your photos of her help put her in a bigger spotlight.

You can see her now, as she celebrates with Svenja, pulling the older woman into a tight hug.

Diligently, you snap away with your camera, capturing the heartfelt moment. You know that both players are close and as you glance briefly at the resulting photos on your camera’s small digital screen, you know that they will appreciate you saving the memory for them.

As you discreetly leave the locker room, along with a few other staff members who want to give the players’ their own little bubble, to celebrate as a team, you resolve to look through your photos at a later time and send them to the respective players to keep or to post on their social medias if they felt like it.

It is that thought of your work that distracts you from catching the smile on Feli’s face dim.

She wants you to stay and wonders what she has to do for you to do so.

You’re the team’s photographer and to her, staff members are just as much part of the team as the players are. In her mind, there is only one team and that means that you are entitled to celebrating the win, like any player is. You don’t have to leave early.

Felicitas wants to get to know you better, your tendency to hide behind your camera intriguing her.

She’s attracted to you because of her curiosity but also because she thinks you are too gorgeous to be constantly ducking away from attention.

It’s too bad that you’ve put away any thought of anyone, let alone someone like Feli Rauch being interested in you.

You indulge in daydreams sometimes but you’re confident in the fact that they would only ever remain as figments of your imagination because you have long since assumed that you would spend your life alone.

It is just in your nature.

From a young age, you developed the belief that you are too introverted and too much like a wallflower to be noticed.

You’ve made your peace with it and are content with the life you lead.

If only you knew that Felicitas is planning to turn all that upside down. She can see you and she’s planning on making you well aware of it.

******

It starts when you send her the photos you’ve taken.

In your hotel room, you send each player every photo they are in after reviewing your camera roll and editing some of its contents.

All the players respond with their thanks and this isn’t new. It gives you a warm feeling inside, knowing that they are grateful for your hard work.

You’re just beginning to turn in for the night when there is a knock on your hotel room door.

That is new and surprise is evident on your face when you open it to see Feli standing outside.

She’s clearly dressed for bed, in an old Germany hoodie and shorts. The pair of glasses she is wearing makes your thoughts go straight to how cute she looks.

There’s no camera for you to hide your blush behind and Feli smiles as she notices.

‘W-What are you doing here?’ You stammer, shuffling your feet in embarrassment.

‘I just wanted to say thank you in person.’ Felicitas shrugs easily.

‘Oh. Well you’re welcome.’

Your cheeks flush even redder and the German fullback’s smile widens.

She reaches out to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear and you freeze at the feel of her fingertips on your skin.

It’s an unexpectedly affectionate gesture that results in your breath audibly catching.

Feli is paying close attention to you and she notes that down immediately.

As you make no move to back away, Felicitas savours how soft your hair feels against her fingers.

‘You look beautiful with your hair down and especially so when you’re blushing. Have a good night.’ She whispers and then she’s gone before you can blink.

You stare at the empty corridor for a moment, unconsciously bringing your hand up to brush against the side of your cheek, right where moments ago, Feli had touched you.

It was only for a few brief seconds and if not for the way your heart is racing, you would be sure you had imagined the whole thing.

As it is, you can hardly believe that it’s not a dream because Feli being even remotely interested in you seems far too good to be true.

******

Feli is intent on making you believe it.

She has been watching you for ages and spending her time trying not to feel it.

It’s nearly impossible for her though, especially when you brush past her in the hallway outside the locker room.

Your hair isn’t tied up like it usually is and it’s the knowledge that her words have clearly had an effect on you that makes her want to learn everything about you.

The tiny bit of physical contact that she had made with you the other night has made her crave more.

She knows exactly how much she sees you, how she’s always been intrigued by you but now she knows that it goes beyond that.

The German fullback wants you. She truly wants you to see yourself the way she sees you.

So what would you do if she went to touch you now?

******

Felicitas starts off small.

As the team is going through their cooling down exercises, Feli jogs up to you. She lightly nudges her arm against yours, startling you slightly and making you nearly drop your camera.

‘Sorry.’ The older woman mumbles sheepishly.

‘It’s okay.’

You readjust your camera and then look up at her.

‘Do you need something?’

‘Not exactly. Can I borrow your camera though? I promise I’ll be careful with it.’

You hesitate. Your camera is precious to you and if it was anyone else, you would have said no straight away.

But it’s Feli Rauch asking.

The particular piece of equipment that you are holding has been with you since your career started. It isn’t just expensive but also holds an enormous amount of meaning to you personally.

You have a number of cameras but this is the one you cherish the most.

‘I’ll stay right next to you the entire time. I just want to try being half as good as you and take photos of the team.’ Felicitas pleads.

You soften and gingerly hand your camera over, making sure that the fullback puts the camera strap on.

‘Danke.’ Feli excitedly says.

She turns towards you and takes a photo immediately.

‘Felicitas what are you doing?’

‘Taking photos of my team. Which includes you.’ She explains, continuing to snap away.

Blushing furiously, you drop your gaze down towards the ground.

‘Hey don’t do that. Your eyes are too pretty to be hidden like that.’

Feli uses her finger to gently tilt your chin upwards, allowing her gorgeous brown eyes to meet yours.

You are speechless and you don’t know if it’s because of her sincere compliment or because of the physical contact.

‘Smile for me.’ The older woman prompts and you do as she asks.

‘See? Like I told you before, you’re beautiful.’ Felicitas murmurs as she shows you the photos she’s just taken.

You shyly thank her and Feli laughs softly.

‘No problem. Want to give me some tips before I try taking photos of our other teammates?’

‘Yeah.’ You nod, always eager to talk about your passion.

You show Feli the basics and then she stands beside you as she takes her photos.

Her fellow players are more than happy to be her subjects and Felicitas has them in fits of giggles as she yells out her instructions.

You can’t help but join in, sharing their laughter.

******

When Feli finally returns your camera, it’s as she promised. In perfect working condition, without a single scratch on it.

She had taken the utmost care with it, correctly inferring how much the device means to you from your earlier hesitation.

‘Thank you. Really. I had a great time learning from you.’ Feli says, her eyes practically shining.

‘It’s no problem. I had fun too.’ You tell her.

‘I can see why you love photography so much. There’s just something special about looking through the lens and having the ability to capture the moment.’

Your eyes widen in surprise. Not many people get why you love photography so much let alone when they are only just beginning to know you.

‘I’m glad you understand.’ You breathe.

Now it’s the German fullback’s turn to blush, her cheeks being dusted a light pink.

You are in awe of the fact that you’ve made a woman so out of your league blush and that gives you a little burst of confidence.

Confidence that leads you to blurt out, ‘Do you want to look over the photos you’ve taken with me? I usually go over all the photos and do some editing before I send them out.’

Felicitas looks delighted.

‘Yeah. I would love that.’

******

That’s how you end up at Feli’s apartment.

You had planned on doing your work in your usual cafe but the Wolfsburg player insisted on inviting you over, saying that it’s the least she can do after you had so generously lent her your camera and given her an impromptu photography lesson.

No matter how many times you said that she didn’t owe you anything, Feli had refused to take no for an answer.

So you get to meet Cinnamon.

The older woman’s brown poodle is an absolute darling and you can’t resist taking a couple of photos of her.

Of course you seek Feli’s permission first and she more than happily gives you the go ahead, on the condition that you send her all the photos.

This you fulfill easily and Felicitas gushes over how cute you’ve made her dog look in them, like Cinny needs any help looking adorable.

She bends down to show Cinnamon the photos on her phone and your heart flutters at the sight.

Be professional, you chide yourself. You have absolutely no right to be thinking about how attractive Feli looks.

It’s a struggle but by the time the older woman straightens back up, you’ve succeeded a tiny bit.

Felicitas smiles, unaware of your internal struggle as she directs you over to her couch.

‘This okay?’ She checks and you nod.

You let her sit down first and cautiously ensure that there is a sufficient amount of space between the both of you before you settle down.

It’s enough of a distance to make you feel safer.

Rather self consciously, you begin the motions of a well practiced routine, taking the memory card out of your camera and inserting it into your laptop.

‘Wow that’s a lot.’ Felicitas breathes as she takes in just how many photos there are.

You chuckle and look closer, scrolling down till you find Feli’s collection of photos.

Clicking past the few she had taken of you, you turn your laptop screen towards her so that she can see her work.

They’re actually quite good.

You fix a few details, cropping some and editing the lighting in others, all the while explaining to Feli what you are doing and why you’re doing it.

Feli watches you in silence, paying rapt attention to everything you are doing.

It’s very clear that you know what you’re talking about and she is quickly becoming obsessed with the very sound of your voice.

She must be staring too obviously because you catch her.

‘Felicitas? Are you okay?’ You nervously ask.

The German player shifts closer to you and her close proximity has your heart rate increasing.

‘Felicitas.’ You breathe and something in her brown eyes changes.

It makes you anxious but all that anxiety disappears when the fullback carefully reaches out to cup your face with one hand, her thumb brushing across your cheekbone.

‘Tell me to stop and I will.’ She softly says.

You open your mouth but no words come out. You’re completely and utterly captivated by her.

‘Tell me to stop and I will.’ Feli repeats, even more quietly as she cautiously closes the distance between the both of you.

Her intentions are clear and you can’t tell her to stop.

She fervently searches your face for any sign that you don’t want this. That you don’t want her as badly as she wants you.

The brunette doesn’t find anything because you do. You want her so incredibly much, more than you’ve ever wanted anything.

When you say nothing, Feli practically brightens with hope and gently presses her lips onto yours.

You gasp into her mouth and respond eagerly.

Feli smiles against you and picks up her pace.

Enthusiastically, she slides her free hand into your hair and she lightly pushes you down, so that your back meets her couch.

Your laptop is long forgotten and you barely register the thump that it makes as it slips off your lap and onto the carpeted floor.

The older woman takes advantage of the newly created space and swings her leg over your body, so that she’s straddling you.

You moan at the feel of her hips against yours.

The soft noise further encourages Felicitas who having drawn back slightly to breathe is kissing you again. This time without holding back.

Her fingers tug none too gently on your hair eliciting a groan from you as you slip your free hands up and under Feli’s shirt.

Your heart skips a beat when you feel the goosebumps that form under your touch. It spurs you on and you continue exploring her body, trying your best to memorise the way her muscles flex as you do so.

Feli moans your name when your fingertips smooth across her abs.

If she hadn’t drawn you in before that, she has now because you’ll do anything to hear it again.

******

When you leave Feli’s apartment, it’s with kiss swollen lips and tangled hair.

As Felicitas sees you out, she pulls you flush against her and brings her lips down to meet yours one more time.

‘For good measure.’ She winks before gently pushing you out and closing her door, leaving you a flustered mess.

******

You’re barely in your car when your phone chimes with a notification.

It’s Feli tagging you in an Instagram post, featuring the photos she’d taken of you earlier. Photos that you had sent her after your impromptu makeout session.

The post is captioned, ‘I can see you.’

It is followed by a winky face emoji that causes you to blush all over again.

******

You wait at the end of the hallway, outside the locker room for the older woman.

When she does emerge, she saunters over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side.

‘Hello.’ She murmurs, kissing the top of your head just once.

‘Hi.’ You answer, with a breath of relief.

It still amazes you that Felicitas pays attention to you. That she sees you.

Then Felicitas does what she’s been thinking about since she saw you waiting down the hall.

She ducks into the first empty room she notices and tugs you in with her.

Your yelp of surprise is silenced by her lips on yours, the bruising kiss that she gifts you with making you weak in the knees.

It’s perfectly as she visualised, the shocked look on your face as she pins you up against the wall before you melt into her, completely and utterly willing to let her do as she pleases.

The way you look at her is nothing short of reverence and Felicitas knows that she will never take advantage of you. Not when she is beginning to look at you in the same manner.

******

Feli keeps everything professional and you try your best to do the same but something’s changed.

She can’t stop herself from showing her newfound affection towards you. She smiles at you all the time and you cannot help but capture all of those little moments through the lens of your camera.

In the back of her mind, from her spot on the training field, she is always thinking about you.

Constantly, she can feel your eyes on her and it makes her smile in your direction.

It is getting to the point where your camera roll is made up almost entirely of her. You’re simply unable to tear your eyes away from the phenomenon that is Feli Rauch.

******

It’s not just you that is keeping a watchful eye on Feli or just Felicitas that is keeping a watchful eye on you.

The rest of the team is too.

The older woman has picked up on this and she moves fast and quiet.

You won’t believe half of the things she sees inside her head, the things she’s hoping she’ll get to experience with you by her side.

She wants more than just stolen kisses, more than just your hands exploring her body in the dark. Felicitas desperately wants it all to be out in the light of day.

She wants to be able to kiss you whenever she can, just because she can. She wants to be able to do so in front of everyone, regardless of who they are.

The fullback simply wants to show the world how truly, madly and deeply her feelings run for you.

Felicitas hopes you stick around and wait to see these things happen.

She’s willing them to happen so badly.

There are a few things that she is wondering now though.

******

One, what would you do if she went to touch you now?

She is looking for a certain kind of physical touch now, not just the simple, casual touch of friends. Feli is searching for much more than that.

You’re not in her hotel room so she seeks you out. For this particular away game, the players are rooming on the floor above the staff.

When Feli makes it down to your floor and knocks on your door, she’s taken aback by how fast you open it.

‘Hey…’ You breathlessly greet her.

‘Hi. Are you going somewhere?’ Felicitas cautiously asks.

If you have plans, she doesn’t want to disrupt them despite the obvious disappointment that she is already beginning to feel at being unable to spend time with you.

It is a good thing then, that the only reason you were leaving your room was to find her.

You tell her that and the older woman can’t stop the big smile that is forming on her face.

That expression does not leave even as she rests her hands on your hips and pushes you lightly back into your room.

You offer no resistance and are in fact happily following her lead.

That’s question number one answered in the German woman’s mind.

******

Two, what would you do if they never found us out?

They in this case refer to her teammates and your boss.

While there aren’t any rules about players and staff fraternisation, you and Feli do not want to be the reason that there are.

Hence why the both of you are trying to keep your budding relationship on the down low.

It’s not really working, despite your’s and Felicitas’ best efforts because the two of you are far too smitten with each other.

The heart eyes, the lingering touches and most of all, the way you both just seem to gravitate towards each other.

So while no one explicitly says anything, the suggestive looks and teasing comments are all it takes to let you and Feli know that the two of you are not as subtle as you had both hoped to be.

The fullback watches you carefully for any sign that you mind when one of your teammates brings it up but she doesn’t find any.

This somewhat answers question number two for her because it wasn’t you who made the decision to draw the team’s attention to the both of you. It had simply happened, out of your control but nevertheless does not seem to be bothering you.

Felicitas can’t build up enough courage to ask you outright so this will have to be enough for now.

******

Three, what would you do if we never made a sound?

Felicitas’ grip on your hips is so tight that you’re sure she is going to leave bruises behind.

Not that you care because it is going to be a nice addition to the collection of marks she has already littered your body with.

You are trying your best to stay silent, knowing that the walls of this particular hotel are thin. There are players resting in the next room and you don’t want to disturb them but when Feli’s lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, you can’t help but cry out her name in pleasure.

The brunette pulls back immediately.

‘What happened to being quiet? You don’t want our friends to hear us do you?’

‘No…’ You shakily whisper.

‘Then try harder.’ Feli firmly instructs, although the teasing edge to her voice tells you that she isn’t angry at all.

It causes the tiny hope that you have been harbouring to blossom. Maybe Felicitas wouldn’t care if all this sneaking around comes to an end. Maybe she even wants the whole secret to unravel.

And when Feli is far too good at demonstrating precisely how well she has come to know your body…an impressive amount in the short time you have been playing this ‘What are we?’ game, the both of you are subjected to a relentless amount of good natured mocking at breakfast, the morning after.

In particular from Lynn and Sveindis who had been roomed next to you and Feli all night.

The Wolfsburg player knows the answer to question number three now because as the rest of the team pokes fun at the pair of you, you endure it all with a soft smile on your face.

Felicitas can’t help but slip her hand into yours under the table.

******

When Wolfburg qualifies for the Champions League final, you’re beyond ecstatic and so are the players.

You eagerly take photos of all their celebrations, till a certain brunette pulls you headfirst into them.

‘Feli! Feli I’m working!’ You protest but the older woman doesn’t listen.

She takes a moment to check that your camera is properly secured by its strap around your body before she easily picks you up and spins you around.

The small action makes your heart fill with even more emotion for her. You adore the fact that she cares enough about your love of photography to extend it to your equipment.

Your breathless laughter rings out across the field and your heart is light.

When Felicitas sets you down, her brown eyes are sparkling under the stadium lights and her hands are resting firmly on your waist.

You can see her in her bright green kit and messy bun, loose strands of hair falling into her face.

In that moment, you know that she couldn't care less about what anyone thinks. Not the club staff, her fellow players or even her fans.

She just wants to know what you think.

‘Are you happy?’ Feli whispers.

Her thumb strokes gently against your waist, over the material of your shirt as she speaks. She keeps her voice low, wanting you to know that her words meant just for you.

‘Incredibly so.’ You murmur, making sure that your voice is soft because you want her to know that your answer is meant only for her ears too.

‘Good.’ The fullback breathes and leans her forehead against yours lightly.

She inhales and exhales and you do the same, commiting the moment to memory.

You have your eyes closed so you depend on all your other senses. The cheers of the crowd, the warm feel of Feli’s hands, her steady breathing and how she smells.

Sweaty because she’s spent the last ninety minutes running around but also underneath all that, she smells like her lavender shampoo.

And you’re enamoured with it and her.

‘I know you’ve got to get back to work but will you wait for me after? Please?’

It’s a quiet, nearly timid request and one that you are more than happy to fulfill.

‘Of course.’ You nod your agreement and the German woman grins.

‘See you soon my shutterbug.’

She kisses your cheek quickly and then runs off towards the other Wolfsburg players before you have time to process the nickname or her public display of affection.

******

Your camera bag is slung around your shoulder and you anxiously fiddle with a crease in your shirt as you wait for Feli down the hall. It’s a familiar situation but you’re unusually nervous tonight.

In between a glance down at your shirt and and back at the locker room door, the brunette is right in front of you.

She doesn’t even bother saying hello, choosing to pin you up against the wall and kiss you senseless.

Her hands cradle your face and she pours all her emotion into her affectionate gestures.

Your legs give out and Felicitas presses your back harder into the solid surface behind you as she supports your weight.

‘Feli.’ You pant when she finally breaks the kiss to breathe.

‘Felicitas.’

It’s a single plaintive word that falls from your lips and the fullback tilts her head in a silent question.

‘We have an audience.’

Her mouth falls open in a ‘o’ shape and she turns around to see what is practically the entire team standing behind her with big cheesy grins.

‘Something you two want to share with the class?’ Svenja teases.

Feli simply rolls her eyes and despite the blush on her cheeks, kisses you soundly once more.

Lena’s and Sveindis’ cheers of, ‘Get your girl!’, fade into the background because all at once, Felicitas Rauch is not only at the forefront of your mind but is the only thing on your mind.

You won’t ever tell about how she kisses you because everyone can see the effect she has on you.

She’s your addiction.

******

The brunette fullback’s secret mission is not so secret.

Not to her family, her fellow players both club and national and her fans.

Especially when the first thing she does upon arriving back in Wolfsburg from national camp is to show up on your doorstep.

You end up going with Feli to pick up Cinny from her dogsitter and the older woman decides to be the photographer for a change.

The photo that she uploads onto her Instagram is one of you holding Cinnamon on your lap, in the passenger seat of her car.

It’s captioned, ‘My shutterbug and my poodle.’

Feli’s mission is to show you that you are seen and when the post blows up, it’s evident that you are

You are seen not only by Felicitas but by the world.

******

Leaning against the door frame of your apartment, you hear the tell tale sound of someone approaching.

You hope it’s who you have been waiting for and when a particular, one of a kind defender rounds the corner of the hallway, a smile lights up your face.

Feli’s heart just about bursts with all the affection she holds for you, when her eyes meet yours.

You’re wearing one of her sweatshirts that she must have left behind by accident.

On you, the article of clothing is too big and you have the sleeves bunched up to your elbows.

You self consciously pull at one side of it when Feli keeps staring at you, murmuring a soft, ‘What?’

‘You’re just so adorable.’ The brunette says, stepping into your space with a little smile.

Your cheeks turn pink and Felicitas gently places her hands on them.

‘I love it when you blush for me.’ She adds quietly, before she slants her lips down over yours.

Any embarrassment that you might be feeling about your reaction quickly vanishes.

Felicitas kissing you is all that matters and though she has been doing that a lot recently, you are never going to get tired of it. The butterflies that come alive in your stomach each and every time are never going to get tired of it.

As the brunette makes no effort to slow down, you correctly infer her intentions and pull her into your apartment.

Felicitas smirks when you lock the door, giving in to temptation and pushing you up against it.

‘This feels like a familiar situation.’ You breathlessly tease.

‘I don’t see you complaining.’ She cockily states.

You laugh, tugging on the collar of her jacket.

‘Off please.’

As hard as you try, your words betray just how desperate you are.

And Felicitas knows it.

That almost annoying smirk of hers is back on her face but the brunette obliges, throwing her jacket on the floor.

Your clothes and the rest of hers soon follow.

You didn’t even know it was possible but the way she is looking at you is making you want her even more.

******

Soft, feather-like kisses are what you are scattering all over Feli’s back.

You smile against her skin and now it’s the older woman’s turn to blush.

Idly, you move on to trace an aimless pattern onto her exposed shoulders.

Your fingers are gentle and everywhere your touch goes, Feli’s skin tingles.

‘Meine liebe.’ She breathes, completely and utterly taken by you.

‘What did you say?’ You ask, wondering if you had heard wrongly.

Your German isn’t all that good but there is no mistaking the tone of her confession.

With wide eyes, you keep looking at the woman who is lying with her head in your lap, your sheets pulled messily around her bare body.

Feli sits up, tenderly taking you into her arms.

‘Be mine.’

Her brown eyes are shining and her voice trembles slightly.

‘Felicitas, are you asking me to marry you?’

‘No! N-Not yet at least. Just be my girlfriend now and maybe in a few years I’ll be asking you to be my wife.’ She stammers.

Her hands reach out to cover yours and the reassuring weight of them, as well as the warmth they provide you are all the encouragement you need.

You lean in to kiss her ardently and Feli sighs, both in happiness and relief.

‘That’s a yes then? Please let that be a yes. I can see you. I promise I see all of you and I love each and every part.’ She asks, as soon as you two pull apart to catch your respective breaths.

The smile on your face is one you swear that only Feli can bring out in you.

‘Yes. It’s a yes because I love you too.’

German Translations:

danke - thank you

meine liebe - my love

[sunshine-theseus]

Meme Girls | Zecira Mušovic x Reader

Words: 2.7k Summary: doing a video with Zecira leads to a lot of unnecessary angst Warnings: angst, poor early a.m. writing request for - @wosofanfics note: y'all i'm sorry if this sucks. it has been proof read but i'm literally half asleep and it's 1:15am. i hope it's good.

“Welcome back to another episode of Meme Girls.” Laughter breaks out across the room as Zecira tries to introduce the video, tripping over her own tongue.

Aggie and I are sat on bean bags facing each other, Zecira between us. We were supposed to doing a football challenge with some of the other girls for someone’s YouTube channel but whoever was supposed to be joining the goalkeeper here had to pull out. That left us.

“To my- stop laughing! To my right side, Agnes Beever Jones!” I give a small cheer and clap as Aggie throws her hands up in the air, all of us laughing simultaneously. The camera man gives us a dirty look, a sign for us to hurry this up.

“And to my left,” I give her a wink when Zecira turns her head to look at me.

“Y/n, the hotshot, L/n!” I can hear some of the girls outside the door, cheering on as well as they pass by, some even whistling.

“Why does she get a cool nickname? That’s not fair.” Aggie complains, adjusting herself in her beanbag to look at me.

“I’m simply better.” A cheshire grin is thrown her way.

-

“When Emma tells you training is cancelled because of the rain.” The prompt is arguably quite easy but we both spend some time contemplating which photo suited it best. Aggie holds up a relatively old picture of Fran, clearly walking off the bus for a game, her thumbs are up, and earphones are in.

“Completely chill. A day to relax and have no worries, spend time with friends. Whatever you want.”

“Nah it’s time to celebrate. That call is rare and I’m appreciating every damn second.” I rather aggressively pull my photo from the stack of cards. A picture of me from last season after a UWCL game against Lyon, my shirt clutched in my hands as I knee slide into the corner after scoring the winning goal.

“Wow. You look really good there.” Zecira’s voice is pretty alluring as she compliments me, and I turn a fiery shade of red.

“This isn’t fair. Z is going to pick you because you’re in love or whatever.” The young striker whines.

“You and the fans with those stupid speculations. We’re just best friends.” I avoid looking at Z as I try to jokingly tell Aggie off, her eyes rolling at my denial. What I do miss is the light that dims in Zecira’s eyes as I say it.

“Whatever you say.”

We’re given a few more prompts before the media manager calls time. I end up winning 3-2, Aggie tossing a fit by throwing her cards at me. Her fake childishness is scolded by one of the onlookers, clearly too serious in comparison to us, but we only continue to laugh as we stand from the bean bags. I take hold of Zecira’s hand to help her up as well but pull too hard, the Swede falling forward as I rush to catch her. My hands slip under her shirt as I grab her hips and both of us blush a deep red as I try to apologise, trying to forget the feeling of her skin beneath my hands.

-

The next few days between Zecira and I are awkward. Between the tripping situation and the comments from Aggie, our relationship had been strained and neither of us wanted to bring it up, so we didn’t talk at all. The things fans had to say under the video didn’t help.

‘Zecira and Y/n are definitely dating right?’

‘Find someone who looks at you the way Z looks at Y/n’

‘New favourite friends to lovers.’

They were funny, sure, but untrue. At least that’s what I told myself whenever I looked at my best friend, dark hair tucked behind her ears while laughing at something Guro said, and I felt jealous. Or when I go to score a goal in training and she dives for the ball, her shirt riding up and the tight muscles of her abdomen flashing briefly, and I can feel my face heat up and my stomach tighten.

And eventually, due to popular demand, I’m back in another video, facing Sam in a ‘Meme Girls Championship’.

“Welcome to the Meme Girls Championship. Today we have the two winners of the previous games, Samantha Kerr and Y/n L/n. Are you ready?” Sam lets out a guttural scream and I simply nod, trying not to freak out about the tingle in my leg where Zecira and my legs touch.

“Here we go. When you make a tackle outside the penalty box, but the other team still get the penalty.” I flick through my cards, searching for the best one, but Sam is ready in no time.

She holds up a picture of Zecira and Ann-Katrin, standing side by side with sour looks on the faces. It’s good enough for a chuckle but I’m certain I can get a better one. I eventually land on a picture of Jessie. She’s dressed in an old training kit, hands covering her face, clearly disappointed in something.

Zecira takes a moment, looking back and forth between the two photos we’re holding up.

“Zecira. You’re in it.” Sam gives her a side eye, hinting at the fact she thinks she should win.

“Wifey Z. You know this is the better one.” The nickname had been a running joke between us for some time, so neither of us think much of it, despite the obvious fact we probably both wished it meant more.

“Mmmm, I have to go with Y/n’s.”

“No! These cards are unfair! I used that last time and you picked Jessie’s one of me breaking my shoulder!”

“Get wrecked Sammy.”

-

The comments under that video are unexpected. I don’t remember doing anything that would elicit any ‘couple’ comments, yet they were full of them.

‘I think Y/n just accidentally exposed their relationship at 1:17’

‘WIFEY? She knowwws. They’re definitely together, you don’t just call someone your wife.’

So apparently, I did imply we were a couple, but it was from a simple misunderstanding. The issue that comes with that is the inability to deny it. If you deny it, fans assume you’re hiding something, and obviously there was nothing to confirm, so we had to live with it.

Turns out it was hard to live with. Anytime either of us posted, those comments would pop up, asking us to confirm it. At games there were fans shouting it out. Even the girls began speculating whether we’d been secretly hiding a relationship for who knows how long. It was beginning to get tiring, especially when I have feelings for her.

I wanted nothing more to just go up and kiss her and tell her how much I like her, then the comments could be true, and I’d know that. Hopefully it’d also mean I’d get to hold her hand as we walk side by side and kiss her good morning every day. But I was certain she didn’t feel the same, so that was that.

~~~~~

It took a week after the video was posted for things to go back to normal within the team and between Zecira and I. Occasionally Millie or Jess would jokingly ask us ‘how the married life is’, or something along those lines, and we’d all just laugh.

It was a tradition between me and Z, that after a London derby, we’d pick a nice restaurant and go out for dinner. Both of us get dressed up and walk out of the stadium together, sign a few things and go. It started in 2021 and we hadn’t missed a dinner since. So obviously that’s what I prepared for when we had a derby coming up.

I had a new rusty orange, satin dress that I’d brought in preparation for the dinner. Hanging it on the rack in my cubby before I got changed into our warm-up kit always made me a little nervous, aware of the casual outfits that adorned everyone else’s wracks. I didn’t bother looking over at Zecira’s space, expecting her outfit to be hanging like it always was. Perhaps I should have.

-

The game was tough as always during a derby, and very physical. The likes of Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord made it difficult to stay standing if the ball was at your feet and I knew I was likely to come out with bruises from the start. I must say I didn’t expect the black eye that began swelling after an elbow to the face from Lotte.

By half time I looked a wreck, and Emma was prepared to sub me off if they didn’t let up by 60 minutes. I’d lost count of the number of bruises that had begun developing on my legs and arms, even my torso was sure to be black and blue, and admittedly my eye was somewhat hard to see out of. I was also limping, a studs up tackle from Katie landing on the inside of my right ankle making the tissue rather tender.

“You’re going to look like that blueberry girl from Willy Wonka soon.” Zecira jokes as we make our way back out to the pitch.

“Heh yeah, dinner might be a little awkward for the other people around.” I get a smile back before she makes her way to the goal, and I head to the middle of the field to meet with Erin to do some short drills again.

-

The game ends in a tie. 2-2 across the board. I gathered more injuries as the game went on but nothing that wasn’t more than superficial, and I was buzzing to sign a few things and take some pictures with the fans before heading back and dressing up for dinner with my best friend.

Then I see them. Zecira is only a few people away from me at the barrier, talking to a guy. The conversation seems very interesting and sweet, nothing more than a footballer meeting a fan. Until they kiss. So, as her best friend, I make my way over. Why had she never mentioned him?

“Hey Z! Who’s this?”

“This is Tom. We’re dating, nothing official yet. He’s going to take me out for dinner tonight.” It’s hard to be upset when you see the smile that spread across her face. Her dimples were showing and there was a sparkle in her eye. But I wasn’t one to just let someone break a tradition after 2 and a half years.

“Tonight? What, after we go to dinner? You know, at the restaurant we’ve been waiting for a table at for months?”

“N- no I mean right after I get changed.”

“We always do tonight Z.” I start to seethe through my teeth.

“Well can’t you go like tomorrow or something?” I understand Tom was trying to help. I can only assume he wasn’t aware about the years long tradition between the girl he’s dating and her best friend. But I could imagine that if we were in a cartoon, steam would be coming out of my ears and my arm would be swinging, getting ready to knock him out in one hit.

“Uhhh, no. No we cannot. Because not only does it take months to get a table, we have to go tonight because it’s tradition. Routine. We’ve never missed a derby dinner once Zecira and like damn I’m going to let us start now. Not for some guy.”

“Common it’s just one. It’s not that big a deal. I’ll make up for it I promise.”

“Make up for it? There’s no making up this dinner. But have fun with Tom. I guess I’ll go get real dressed up, eat portions that are far too small and drink much too expensive wine by myself and be thrown looks all night. See you in training.” As I storm off, I catch glimpses of the remaining crowd that is yet to trickle out and realise perhaps I should have waited.

Now embarrassed as well as angry, I run down the tunnel in desperate search for an empty room. I eventually stumble into one and slam the door closed and lock it. The walls rattle and I hear something fall off one of them, but I find it hard to care as I search for the light switch.

Once I find it, it’s hard for me to hold back all the emotions that have been building up over some time. I rip my boots of and throw them at the door with all my might. I’m surprised the window doesn’t shatter.

“Stupid fucking feelings. Stupid fucking dinner. Stupid fucking Tom. Stupid fucking game.” The list goes on for some time as I cry, broken up every now and then by a scream.

Eventually I slump to the floor in the middle of the room and sob. My chest heaves and I struggle to breathe as I cry into the ground. The bruises and black eye are long forgotten as my lungs struggle to expand, and I begin to panic.

‘This cannot be fucking happening right now no no no.’ a panic attack is the last possible thing I need and I’m in a random room all alone. No one knows where I am. Everyone could have gone home by now.

My head is pounding. Or maybe it’s someone at the door. I’m not sure. I don’t have the energy to figure it out.

‘I hope someone finds me soon’ is probably the last thought I’m aware of having. But then someone’s arms wrap around me. Their perfume is familiar, but I can’t quite place it as they hook an arm beneath my knees and another behind my back. Most of my surroundings are lost, sight blurred and hearing fuzzy as I try to draw in more air, so I don’t know where I am until I feel a mattress beneath me.

I could identify the medical room beds in my sleep, and this was definitely one. After a few minutes of just resting there, my breathing started to slow and I came around. Newly aware of a hand gripping my own, I turn to the person beside me.

“Zecira? What are you doing here? You have dinner with what’s his face.”

“You’re more important. And, what you said on the field… you’re right. I was wrong in breaking tradition for some guy I’m not even really into. It’s- it’s just…” she trails off with a sigh.

“It’s just that, I needed something to take my mind off you.”

“Off me?”

“Yes. Look, after those videos we did on media day, and the one after, I couldn’t fathom the idea of me telling you how I feel and you rejecting me. I like you so much but I know you don’t like me back so I started going on dates. Tom was the only bearable one.”

“Wait wait wait wait. You think I don’t like you? Zecira, there aren’t enough words to express how much I like you. Seeing you with Tom, it, it made me mad about the dinner sure, but I was also jealous. I want to be the one kissing you and taking you on dates, holding your hand, celebrating a win.”

“What?”

“Kiss me you fool.” The angle is poor but despite it, we lean toward each other until our lips are connected.

It becomes quite a hungry kiss, but I pull away before it can get too heated, smiling at the girl in front of me.

“If we get ready and leave now, we could still make that reservation. Make it our first date?”

-

That’s how we end up hand in hand, waiting to be seated. The satin gown hugs me perfectly and compliments Zecira’s sage green dress.

“I’m really sorry for bursting up on you. Especially on the pitch.”

“I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t. Maybe you should’ve told me in advance but it didn’t warrant that reaction.”

“I should’ve spoken to you about what was going on.”

“Kiss me and we call it even?” her hair falls around our faces as she leans down to kiss me. It’s gentle and sweet and tastes like her vanilla lip gloss. Life feels good when you’re in love with your best friend.

[sentientcave]

WAIT WAIT WAIT i need to hear about the 141 paranormal investigators omg???

OKAY SO

Basically it's like, a non-military AU where they have a youtube channel and investigate haunted places and look for cryptids and junk. Ghost is the camera/editing guy, Gaz and Johnny handle social media and are the primary faces, and John is a professor of Mythology and Folklore on extended leave that became a permanent fixture after they interviewed him too many times. They're on an American road trip, and they chance upon a hidden town full of actual supernatural people and creatures. Cue shenanigans while the townspeople try not to get caught on camera. Also they meet a hot witch who runs the B&B (the only place to stay in town).

Here's some of all this silliness:

“Relax, Soap.” Price used his stern teaching voice, the one that could command a rowdy hall of college students (most of whom were only taking his class because they thought it would be an easy credit) to be quiet and pay attention. “If we get lost you’ll get to gloat about bein’ right, how about that?”

“Rather no’ get lost, but Ah suppose it’ll do.”

Simon and Gaz exchanged a look, both of them trying not to laugh. They were an odd bunch, by any metric. Gaz had started a youtube channel reviewing local businesses around Manchester while he was attending university, which is where he had met Simon (Or Ghost, as he had introduced himself back then), who had been the butcher at a shop Gaz wanted to review. Ghost had been told to give Gaz a tour, so he had, reluctantly, and Gaz had gone home later that week to find Ghost sitting in front of his computer, editing the video.

“You do shite work,” he’d said, the only explanation he had offered for his presence in Ga’s apartment. “Fine substance, but terrible camera an’ editin’.”

And well, Ghost’s video had done a lot better than any of Gaz’s previous ones, so he’d asked him to continue. Ghost suggested moving on to different content as well, to exploring some of the spookier sites around Manchester (Of which Ghost seemed to be intimately familiar, unnervingly enough), and they had interviewed Price a few times to give the videos an air of legitimacy, since he was a professor of mythology and folklore at Gaz’s university.

Johnny had been their missing link, however. They’d gone to do a video in Glasgow, and kept running into him everywhere they went. He’d provided some useful local knowledge, and had a channel of his own, where he mostly blew stuff up and did parkour around the city. The Glasgow videos all went viral, and the channel suddenly became something they could potentially throw themselves into doing on a more full time basis.

Price, chafing at the routine of teaching, asked to join them on a more permanent basis as well. And since he had the two things that the rest of them lacked (A car and a savings account), they agreed. That had been four years ago. And somehow, it was working. They weren’t exactly making a lot of money, but they were getting by, and Price had written and published two new books, using their travel and research to pad out what might have otherwise been dry, academic work.

Simon flicked the radio back on, the van filling with the sharp sound of static. They’d lost their last station somewhere along the drive. He fiddled with the tuner until an upbeat, overly patriotic country song came in clear.

Gaz made a disgruntled sound in the backseat. He’d made his disdain for country music clear somewhere back in California.

“Just tryin’ to get a traffic report. Untwist your knickers, Gaz.”

“If we’d stayed on the main road we’d no’ need a report.” Johnny could never stop himself from throwing in his two pence. “We’d be in it.”

Price reached over for the volume, and turned up the music, drowning them out as one song switched to the next.

[softtdaisy]

THE OTHER ONE - CHARLES LECLERC

DESCRIPTION I What are you supposed to do when your heart is broken and your brother falls for the woman you love?

PAIRING I Charles Leclerc × female!reader

WORDS COUNT I 3,8k

A/N I Apparently I can write only sad stories?? I’m sorry for the angst (but i’mp actually quite proud of it) 🥺

Charles was the one who meet you first.

He noticed you at the beginning of the weekend. There were always some new faces when the new season starts. And he’s always so focus on Ferrari and what he had to do, that he doesn’t always see them all during in Bahrain.

But he saw you. He could use the excuse that, because you were a new member of the media team, it was hard to miss your presence. Specially since you were there as a photographer and, logically, had to take pictures of each driver for the F1 medias. Yeah, he could say that. Even if it wasn’t true.

Truth was that Charles saw you immediately when he arrived at the paddock. You could have been anybody: a driver’s friend, a journalist from the country, an influencer invented for the event. He didn’t matter. He saw you. You and your beautiful smile. It was the first thing he noticed. You were talking with Pierre, who was doing his little charm number on you, and of course you were smiling.

He could have stayed a few more minutes like that, just looking at you. Then Pierre turned around and noticed him. “Ah Charles! Come here!” he spoke loudly. Charles rolled his eyes from the non-so discreet attitude. He walked to you and after shaking Pierre’s hand, he turned to you. And as he could expect, you were even more beautiful than he imagined.

“Let me introduce you to [y/n]” Pierre said, like he was the one entitled to presented you to everyone. “She’s the new photographer, she’ll follow us all around the season!” He had that smile that was speaking for his mind. And Charles knew he wasn’t the only one finding you attractive.

“I’ll try to be as discreet as possible! You won’t even notice me!” you added with a soft and small laugh. You really didn’t want to bother the drivers, speacially not on your first weekend. The rest of the season would be a mess and you didn’t need that kind of stress. You already knew that Pierre was going to make sure you felt integrated in this world. You didn’t expect Charles to react the same.

Like he didn’t even notice it, he put a hand on your arm. “Don’t. It’ll be a pleasure to see you.” It was sincere and honest; you both knew it. You all knew it, technically because Pierre heard it too. But what his friend noticed that you didn’t, was the message behind it. Charles had laid his eyes on you and wasn’t ready to take them off.

You didn’t see him much during the weekend. Expect for the Sunday after party where he invited you. To celebrate his first victory of the season.

You thought it would be a good way to meet the other drivers, socialize with the teams, meet some new people. Turns out, even though you did make some new friends, you mainly discovered Charles. Sharing his bed that night really helped getting to know him better.

“I can’t stop looking at you” Charles told you at some point during the party. You found it crazy that out of all the people there, you were the one he wanted to spend his celebration party with. You both had drink: enough to find the courage the flirt, but not too much to appreciate everything that was happening. But drink or not, there was the same intensity in the Monegasque’s eyes that you saw when you met him. You didn’t want that to stop.

So you put a hand on his arm, just like he did with you the other day, and whispered in his ear “Don’t.”

He wanted until you were in his bedroom to kiss you, to avoid some unwanted pictures on social medias that would give proof to the rumors. But then, he never stopped. Your lips almost hurt when you went to sleep from all the kisses you got from him. It was passionate, like you both needed to feel each other to feel alive. You were both in places in your life where you were afraid of love and feeling unsatisfied my anything. This moment was like a fire that only you two together could keep alive.

You made a silent agreement that this was it was going to be with you. It sounded logical: you both had a magical moment and couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why would you even consider not doing it again?

There was just one thing none of you thought about.

“Oh, Charles! J’ai une question. I have a question Do you know the new photographer? I mean, you do, I saw you with her at your party two weeks ago. But…do you know her?”

In any other situation, Charles would have laugh at his baby brother way of speaking his thoughts. Arthur always acted like he was telling things just the way they were coming in his mind, no matter if it makes sense or not. So yeah, he would have laughed. If Arthur wasn’t talking about you.

“I kinda know her yeah, why?” he asked. It was only Thursday, the medias day, so the paddock was pretty calm. And the two brothers decided to take advantage of that time together to discuss the beginning of the season around a drink. But the season wasn’t the subject anymore. Charles was glad he could hide his suspicious look behind his sunglasses. He was scared about how the conversation might turned out. He had every right to do so.

“I don’t know.” Arthur shrugged. “I find her cute…” he had this angelic and sweet smile. Like he was already daydreaming about you. She’s mine Charles wanted to say. But he couldn’t. Because you weren’t technically his. Because he was a good brother. Because Arthur was a better man than he was, right now.

So, when he saw you coming over them, Charles called you. “I wanted you to meet Arthur.” He simply said. You look at him with confusion. Technically, you did know about Arthur Leclerc, so it wasn’t a surprise to see him. What you didn’t understand, was Charles’ expression, almost like he was torn between letting you meet his brother and wanting to keep you for himself. “Arthur, this is [y/n].”

This was the first step of his runaway. You were simply you. Nothing attached to him. Just you.

Charles then found some excuses to leave the two of you alone.

That was the last time you saw him this weekend.

“Je suis peut-être con“  

“You really doubt that?” Charles answered with a laugh, to which Pierre replied with a hit in his shoulder. The season was going on and it was already the sixth race, in Italy. Without a surprise, Ferrari had rented a beautiful and very luxurious hotel for the team. One with a beautiful pool that Pierre decided to take advantage of as “the best friend”. So they were now hanging out in the massively beautiful rooftop after swimming (no, competing), enjoying the view. Or, enjoying it before seeing what was really happening down there.

“So, I was saying,” Pierre started again “I might be stupid, but didn’t have a thing for [y/n]?”

Charles didn’t expect this question. He was quite surprised, to say the least, since nobody seemed to talk about you around him. Not like a secret agreement, simply that even if the drivers liked you, they were talking about you all the time. That made sense. And the few people that knew Charles got along with you in the first place were Arthur and Pierre.

More than that, Charles stopped talking to you after you met Arthur. It was, this time, a secret agreement he made…with himself. He wanted you to be happy and he knew his brother. He would be the best man for you. During of his sleepless night that he used to compose a new song, Charles found a good comparison.

You were the sun, a beautiful and happy person that bring joy to everyone that meet you.

Arthur was quite like that too, in a funnier way. If you make people smile, he makes people laugh. You made a perfect duo.

Charles, however, felt like the moon. He felt empty most of the time, like he was living his life in a low brightness. His darkness would hide your light. That was how he felt.

“Why you’re asking me that suddenly?” he finally asked Pierre. There was no reason for him to bring you up like this. He thought so. Until Pierre pointed to a couple in the hotel’s yard.

“I just want to know why she is with Arthur right now.” Charles looked down and his friend was right. You were right there, holding with Arthur while he was probably telling you about his day and some other F2 stories.

Did he hate that sight? Yes. But he caused it. So, in some way, deep down, he felt kind of proud that his plan was working. “They are better together” he shrugged, turning around so he was facing the pool instead of the yard. He heard Pierre’s little laugh. A surprised and judgmental one. “What?”

“You really believe that?”

“Yes.” He’s better than me. He’s a good lover, he knows how to keep his relationship clean and lovely. I’m just good at breaking hearts. The others and mine too. But he didn’t say more. With a simple look, Pierre knew it was better to change the subject than insist on it. Even if, as his best friend, he felt Charles was doing a mistake.

But it wasn’t that day that Charles felt like a mistake. It was the one in Canada.

He did his worst qualification of the season here. He didn’t even left Q1 which was a shame and the medias were already wondering if Charles was reader to fight for the rest of the championship when he was doing mistakes like that. He hated that. He hated the treatment he was getting every time he was making a stupid and meaningless mistake. He knew he would do his best for the race. He knew that, even if he ends up 10, he will still be leading.

But tonight, he felt like a stupid and idiot mess. Worse, he knew that the Formula 2 wasn’t here this weekend. Arthur wasn’t there.

This explained why he allowed himself to knock on your door, at 10 pm.

You didn’t expect any visitor. It wasn’t like anybody would come see you at night anyway. The only person you thought would be happy to see wasn’t even in the country.

And lastly, Charles was certainly not the one you expect to see when you opened the door.

But here he was, in his oversized Ferrari sweater, with his hair messy like he’s playing or pull them, and such a sad and broken expression you’ve never seen on anybody before. You knew the reason behind it. You were there. You saw it all: the bad qualification and his reaction afterwards. How he jumped from his car and went to hide for a good twenty minutes. How he did half the interviews he was supposed to do.

You wanted to run to him. It killed you to see him this sad and defenseless. Nothing mattered, not the way he ghosted you nor that you were seeing his brother. You wanted to comfort Charles but felt like it wasn’t your role.

Turned out that, maybe, it was yours in the end.

“Come in” you simply said, moving just enough to let him pass. Your room was pretty identical to his. Charles could have walked with his eyes closed he would have found your bed. He sat like he has been waiting to reach this destination for hours now. And somehow, it was the truth. He was looking for a place where he wouldn’t be alone nor judged. He couldn’t stay with the other drivers; competition was always coming first. He had no one but you.

God, he wished he truly had you.

You didn’t hesitate and ran to sit next to him. As soon as you put your arm around his shoulder, he cuddled against you. You never imagined Charles being this broken. You couldn’t imagine the amount of things that accumulate in his mind and heart to make him feel this…shattered. “I’m so tired of all this.” He whispered and you rocked him slowly, trying to calm him down. “I shouldn’t even be there.”

“Why?” you had a small voice, like you were too scared to even ask. And when Charles looked at you in the eyes, it was almost like everything in him was screaming his brother’s name. Of course. It wasn’t fair for Arthur. But…”we’re not together.” You saw the frown on his face and couldn’t resist caressing it with your thumb to relax him. “We’re taking things slowly, so we’re not official dating.”

You both had your reasons. Arthur had broken up with his last girlfriend not so long ago and didn’t want to commit into a new relationship too fast. Too scared of being heartbroken again. And you, besides the new job and its obligation, you still had Charles in mind. Or, more exactly, was still frustrated by how everything ended. How could you love Arthur with your whole heart if you still had his brother living there?

It was all Charles needed for tonight. As soon as he knew he wasn’t doing the worst thing he could ever imagine, he started leaning towards you. You could feel his hand slowly coming to your neck, his fingers brushing your skin softly. His lips were just a few millimeters away from yours, you could feel his breath against it, when you spoke. “Don’t do that.” You whispered.

“Why?” his voice was shaking, it was almost a cry. Almost like a junkie who needs his drugs, Charles needed to feel you. Again.

You brought a hand to his face and brush his cheek with so much love that he would love to keep that forever with him. “You will regret it in the morning…” and that was when it became obvious to him. That you were way too good for him.

You could have said, we will regret it. But you didn’t. You thought about Charles’ feelings first. How he would never forgive himself for betraying in baby brother even if you weren’t dating. How he let himself taste you tonight he won’t ever be able to contain himself. It didn’t matter how you feel about that. What matter to you was him.

So, he simply nodded, brushing having a tear he didn’t realize was there until it fell on his lips and took a step back. You keep a hand on his arm, to make sure he wouldn’t leave with a broken heart. Wouldn’t do anything too stupid. After a few minutes, you both laid on your bed, facing the ceiling.

You stayed like that, in complete silent, for a long time. “You chose the right Leclerc.” He had a sad laugh that you wished you never heard. “Arthur has a pure heart.”

You turned your head to face him, even though he wasn’t ready to move. Facing you would mean facing his problems. And it didn’t want that. Not right now. “And you don’t?”

“My heart is so broken. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost some pieces in the way. I don’t even know how to love properly. That’s why you should be with him. He knows how.”

You didn’t add anything. Charles didn’t someone to prove him wrong. He needed you to listen to him and to understand how he felt. He needed someone to know about that, so he didn’t have to live with that by himself. Even though you were sure he was able to love, you didn’t correct him. In silence, you prayed he would one day feel able to love again. Properly.

Even if it’s not with you.

What Charles didn’t say, was that he knew it was his last chance to have you. If he told Arthur that he was in love with you, his brother would let you go. Without a single doubt. But what kind of big brother would he be to break Arthur’s heart just for his own pleasure?

At least, in this scenario, nobody was asking anything to anyone. Charles’ sacrificing his love life was his own choice. He could only blame himself for letting you go.

He fell asleep on your bed that night and you let him. When you woke up the next morning he had already left. No notes. Nothing. All you got was a small smile when you saw him in the paddock. The only thank you for being here you needed.

The only one you got for the rest of the season.

A few days after that race, when you saw Arthur again, he decided to post a picture of you two together. “I know we take our time but being away from you made me realize that I love you more than I thought.”  He told you. You would have been a fool to not accept such a pure love. So, you accepted it. You accepted Arthur’s pure heart.

For most of the season, you didn’t talk much with Charles expect when you both had to: when you were in the same room, and you didn’t want to look like you hated each other. It wasn’t hard to imagine to kind of rumors you would get if you weren’t talking with your brother-in-law. Or simply when you had to take pictures of him. You would talk about the race, mostly. Charles never felt like he had the right to ask you any questions about your life anymore.

You had to wait until October to finally see him outside of the circuit. And it was for his and Arthur’s birthday. It was easier for their family to celebrate it during the same weekend since their birthday were just two days apart.

As Arthur’s girlfriend, you had to be there. You didn’t even think about missing it. Since your night with Charles, you slowly let him leave your heart so you could all of it to Arthur. It wasn’t easy and there were some lonely nights where you thought about that choice. But you’ve been dating the younger for months now and it was too late to change it.

It wasn’t easy being there and seeing Charles. He looked healthier than he did earlier this year, smiling and laughing with his friends and family. He looked gorgeous. Looking at him made you realize that you still hadn’t finish the process of forgetting about him. But the real question was, would you ever forget totally about Charles?

At some point during the night, you noticed him being alone in their family garden while everyone was having fun inside. It didn’t matter if it was your heart screaming to go see him or your empathy that didn’t want to leave him alone. You just couldn’t see him like that and do nothing. “I’ll be right back.” You said to Arthur, kissing his cheek before going outside. That man was so sweet and innocent he probably just assumed you wanted to make sure his brother was fine. Arthur never learnt about your past, or whatever happened between you and Charles. And he never will.

“What a way to enjoy your birthday.” You told Charles once you were near him. He turned around to look at you and forgot how to breath for a good second. Knowing you were there was hard Knowing you were here for his brother first was harder. But seeing you coming to him, being that beautiful, was awful.  

But he still offered you a smile, the same he gave you all these past months when he saw you. A happy but broken one. “I just needed some time alone.”

“Oh.” You replied, already taking a step back. But Charles took your hand without a single hesitation. He didn’t need to say any words. He wanted you here.

So, you stayed there, watching the sky and the stars in totally silence. It reminded you of the night he came to your hotel room. There was some peace in the silence.

But there was another reason for you coming to see him outside, expect for the heartbreak it caused you to see him alone at his own birthday party. You were still wondering if it was a good idea or the worst you could ever had. But you thought it was a good way to end things in a good way. To make sure you would both be able to move on from the obvious attraction you had for each other.

You slowly took the gift that was hiding in your jacket and gave it to him. Charles turned his head to look at you, frowning. “It’s not a real gift. I mean, it is. But there is another one waiting for you inside. This one…it’s a personal one I couldn’t give in front of each other.” You explained. You almost ran away to not see his reaction. You thought it was stupid and cliché. But you also needed to know how he felt about that.

Charles opened it with confusion. He didn’t expect you to give a gift at all. Not after the mess he created in your life. But he took it. And you heard something you didn’t think you would hear again so soon. “You’re offering me…some glue?” he asked, laughing. A sweet and innocent laugh.

“Look more closely.”

He was still laughing, turning the glue over and over until he saw it. You added your own label on it. It was written “glue for broken hearts.” His laugh stopped. But his smile didn’t disappear.

“I want to see you happy one day, Charles. I want to see you in love.” You said, looking at him in the eyes to mark every word. “I thought…I wished I could have been the girl that help you healing your broken heart. Collecting the pieces and making it full again. But I couldn’t force you. So, promise me that one day, you’ll accept to let someone open that glue and make you a happy man.”

At first, Charles didn’t say anything.

He let himself imaging how life would have been if you didn’t meet Arthur. If his brother didn’t fall for you too. If Charles wasn’t too scared to fight for you. If he had found the strength to speak his mind. If he had look at you in the eyes that night in Canada and told you how much he loved you. Would you by his arm right now? Would he be the one you helped blowing the candles with? Would he be the one you would kiss before a race to wish him luck? Maybe. But you weren’t.

And you won’t ever be.

So, despite the tears growing his eyes, Charles put a small smile on his face and took you in his arms. He whispered in your ear: “I promise.”

[live-laugh-lenney]

ok ok hear me out: george makes a new friend thru social media connections and he is really nervous to ask her out but after his friends give him some convincing…he finally does (very nervously)

i love your fics btw babes

"just ask her, you cretin."

george rolled his eyes at arthur hill's commonly used insult for him in regards to his stupidity and stared back down at his phone held in his hand, eyes focused on the small text bubble that said 'hello', a text so vague yet made his heart pump rapidly in his chest.

yn was someone he met through tiktok during the 'beep' saga in the 2020 covid-19 lockdown.

she had her own account, her own tiny following, her own format and short-form content that would usually appear on his 'for you' page, and she attended the same content creator events as him - he just never plucked up the courage to go and speak to her, to introduce himself formally... but, then again, neither did she.

she found herself admiring his sense of humour and the content he was gracing people with through lockdown and she wasn't shy when it came to showing her enjoyment online. always looking for updates on his page, commenting her ideas, expressing how it was the one thing she had to look forward to during her boring days out of work. and it was during that time that he reciprocated; liking her videos, commenting and showing his own enjoyment towards her content.

"what if she completely airs me?"

"why would she?" chris wonders, feet kicked up on the sofa as he had the football highlights from the weekend playing on the television, "i mean, she's been keeping you entertained for years, george. and not just by her tiktok account. she actually keeps talking to you like she's interested in what you have to tell her."

george could heart he sarcasm dripping from his roommates voice and he couldn't stop himself from throwing a middle finger up in his direction.

"i'm just saying," chris holds his hands up in surrender, "joking or not, she wouldn't be messaging you constantly if she didn't like you in any way."

"i don't want her to like me in any way," george groans heavily, rolling his head back and arthur can't help but laugh at the dilemma his best friend was, "i want her to like me like me."

"this is such a bunch of teenage girl bullshit, george," chris cackles and looks in his direction; the way his phone was on the breakfast bar, between his hands as he leant against the top, "grow a pair of bollocks and just ask her out. what's the worst that could happen? she says no."

"you'll never know if you don't ask her," arthur says and george brings his attention from the ceiling and to the eyes of his two roommates, "seriously, you are so in love. it's sickening."

silence fell in their flat.

the two boys stared at george as he contemplated his decisions. the way his eyes stared at his phone, like he was trying to come up with a good way to carry on with the conversation she had been willing to start, anticipating what his movement was going to be.

"you're currently airing her."

"yes, thank you, christopher," george retorts and picks his phone up from the kitchen island, his thumbs working on a response back to her, "you guys suck at the whole 'wingman' thing, by the way. you're supposed to be nice, make me feel less nervous-"

"just ask her out, idiot. wingmen or not, we just want this to be over."

"the pining needs to stop now. george, just ask her or else someone else will come along," arthur insists, walking passed him and giving his shoulder a soft squeeze, "although, what she sees in your massive head is completely beyond me."

"what one?" george asks with a smirk on his lips and chris lets out a cackle, which bellows around the flat, leaving arthur bewildered in his response, "what?"

george disappears into his room, closing the door behind him, laying on his bed and he could feel his heart beginning to race again. what he wanted was to call her his girlfriend, but to take her out on a date was something he was nervous to do, wanting to surprise her and for it to be the best date she's ever been on. years of friendship and it could be ruined within seconds...

How are you? Are you okay?

I'm good, yeah. Sorry, you caught me in a bad time.

Oh, I'm sorry. Everything sorted now?

Sorted.

What are you doing Thursday night?

I tweeted about doing a live-stream on Tiktok that night, why?

My local down the road does a karaoke night on Thursdays and I was wondering if you fancied it?

Oh, that sounds brilliant.

With Chris and the two Arthur's, too? That sounds like a great night, count me in!

Just me.

And you.

I was thinking more of a date kind of thing.

Oh.

I'm so sorry, George.

his mind was racing.

sorry for what?

for assuming she was invited out with him and his friends? or for not being as interested in a date with him as he was to date her? he could feel his bottom lip going numb as he chewed on the flesh nervously and he could feel the deep pit in his stomach feel empty.

I'd love to.