#of course he’d be a france fan

[the-bees-patella]

ok it would be funny if one of the few things hannibal retained from living in europe was absolutely losing his goddamn mind over the world cup

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

Hey, I saw you wanted some requests. So, can I have how the Allies act when they have a crush? ✨Thank you✨

Allies when they have a crush

note: sorry it took so long. it was england's fault, i hate british people (joke ofc). oh also probably mischaracterized a lot. (sorry again)

England

He's trying to be subtle, but he really isn't.

Tries to wait it out until it goes away. It wasn't a success

Would eventually try and show how cool he is, did you know he met Henry the VIII?

You get to munch on his speciality too! Burnt crumpets with some british tea. Please tell him it's good.

Doesn't mean he'll suck up to you though! You’re not special, or anything.. (Yes u very much are)

He’s trying to be impressive and cool without making it obvious.

Not really showboating though. He just wants to prove he can be a reader’s man, not Superman.

America

Y’know how I said England won’t showboat? Yeah well, this guy will.

He’d try and show you how strong he is by inviting you to hang out with him while he works out. (He doesn’t even work out usually, he just wants to look badass)

Would take you out often, not like a date of course. Just lunch, Y’know?

Also trying to be a reader’s man. He’ll hold the door open or pull your chair out for you.

Gets you very nice gifts that he knows you’ll love, he tries to remember your likes.

He will attempt to sneak his hand into yours when you two walk together

Always offers (and ends up) helping you when he thinks you need it

France

He twirls his hair and kicks his feet while talking to you on the phone.

Would love to cook you something good to eat, he tries extra hard to make sure you enjoy the dish he makes. (He’ll be glancing at you to see your reaction when eating it)

Takes you to the different beauties throughout his country

This might be off topic, but I feel like he adores people with strong admirable qualities.

He would like to take you shopping with him. You don’t have to though, but he will still try and dress you up. He just finds it fun.

Very affectionate with you, he keeps an arm around you when walking or sitting together.

He won’t flirt with anyone anymore now that you’re his main romantic focus.

China

The fact he even has a crush is kinda wild, but here he is. Anyways, I feel like he’d be good at hiding it for awhile (until he chooses not to anymore).

Once he’s stopped hiding it as much he’ll start giving you nice gifts. (Necklaces, snacks you like, things that reminded him of you.)

He’ll take you to gardens and temples so you can enjoy his culture, he just likes them and hopes you do too.

Plays the role of your (ancient) best friend who gives amazing advice and comforts you when your in pain.

He would listen to anything you say, and if it seems like he isn’t paying attention, he really is.

Might be a bit off topic, but he definitely gives you the most gifts on your birthday. Expect 20 of those bitches when you wake up.

Not much else to comment on, he does his role in your life well.

Russia

It’s pretty easy to tell he likes you for the most part, but you’d somehow never be able to tell he’s interested in you, though others might. (the baltics and his sisters)

The type to put on a scary movie if you’re scared of them, so you can hold onto him when startled.

He likes to go on walks with you, no specific area, it can be the park or in the middle of nowhere. He doesn’t really care where.

Very much a big fan of being affectionate with you. He likes to hug you a lot, sometimes the hugs feel like he’s strangling the life out of you, and sometimes they’re gentle and sweet.

Also holds your hand often, but he ain’t even sneaky about it. Just does it to be sure you’re there, he’s always a bit worried you’re gonna abandon him.

He’s also pretty protective of you and wouldn’t let a single thing harm you physically or emotionally.

Gets along with your parents very well, he’s a sweet gentleman to you.

Canada

Everyone knows. Everybody. Knows. His crush is no secret, but that doesn’t make it any less adorable.

He loves you because you remember him every time, and he appreciates that more than you can fathom.

Trying to be the bestest bud you can have, would love to have lazy Sundays with you where all you do is pancakes and movies.

He likes to check up on you often to see how you’re doing, would do anything to make you happy if you’re sad.

The type of guy who’ll invite you camping or hiking. He enjoys the outdoors and would appreciate if you enjoyed them with him.

He gets you loads of stuffed animals, he’d probably spend forever at a claw machine trying to win you a prize.

Kumajirou likes you, and you two get along well. When Canada mentions his crush on you to him, he’ll encourage him to confess.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Luke/Andreas; bugging out

For the prompt: Anything Luke related, preferably with Andreas Andreas loving on Luke! Just seeing that big sweet lug getting the love he deserves!

Relearning someone is different than learning them, different from knowing. Andreas doesn’t know if it’s better or worse — he’s never experienced it before, knowing someone so intimately, and at the same time, having to relearn the most basic things about them.

There are things that haven’t changed a bit in over a decade. Many of them: Luke’s always been set in his ways. He’s been wearing the same brand of underwear for as long as Andreas has known him. Some of the shirts he refuses to stop wearing were already ragged when Andreas met him. Back then, Andreas wondered aloud why he didn’t throw them out — now he’s just impressed they haven’t disintegrated in the wash.

But of course, things have changed. The obvious physical things; Luke’s career has caught up to him, and he’s got the aches and pains of someone decades older, especially his knee, which can keep him up at night on bad days. No gray in his hair yet, but there’s some in his stubble, which is probably one of the reasons he shaves every day now, though Andreas is sure he’d argue that. He’s mellowed out, the way Andreas finds most people do over time, when they don’t do the exact opposite. Andreas would probably fall into the latter category, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind.

Luke isn’t sporting mysterious cuts and bruises all the time, which Andreas thinks is an improvement, and suspects Luke does too. He’s happier, and some of that, Andreas is sure, is the so-called honeymoon phase, even the second time 'round, but he doesn’t think that's all of it.

Luke was happy at the beginning of their relationship, but there was always an edge to it, something he wasn’t saying, something Andreas knew was there, but didn’t know how to ask about, or, maybe more accurately, wasn’t sure he wanted whatever the answer was. Now it’s been said. Now they’re decades from it instead of years, and it’s still there, but Luke isn’t haunted by it anymore.

But there are less obvious changes. Sometimes they’re a nice little surprise, like finding out Luke’s culinary skills significantly improved since he was in his thirties. He’s not a gourmet chef or anything, but he’s not slapping something with a bit of table salt and calling it seasoned anymore.

Sometimes they’re utterly neutral, and the most surprising thing is that Andreas still remembers well enough to clock the difference, like how Luke was a casual Vikings fan, but now he’s an equally casual Packers fan — Andreas is pretty sure that's a felony in the midwest —or that he's mostly switched from lagers to reds.

And then there’s one that Andreas sticks on. Luke never eats shellfish. That wouldn’t be strange — plenty of people don’t, for various reasons. Except when they were dating, Luke would inevitably order any shellfish dish on the menu, regardless of where they were. It was helpful, honestly — Andreas just had to check the menu for shrimp, or scallops, or lobster, and if it was there, Luke would be happy. But he hasn’t any of the times they’ve gone out, and the one time Andreas ordered a shrimp dish, offered to share, he was vigorous in his denial.

“Sea bugs,” he said with a shudder when Andreas asked, something that struck a vague chord with Andreas, tugging until, halfway to sleep, Luke pinning him to the bed with an arm and a leg, somehow always twice as heavy when he’s asleep — Andreas doesn’t know how the physics of that work, and he’s frankly curious — he remembers Luke, years ago, making faces at Andreas over an ostensibly romantic dinner at a French bistro with a six month waitlist because Andreas ordered escargot.

*

The restaurant is beautiful, the sort of place that seems transported from France a century ago, waiters in black tie and dim lighting, candles playing off everyone’s faces. They’re surrounded by couples, mostly middle-aged or older, here for milestone birthdays or anniversaries. It’s a special occasion sort of place. A place that turns a date night into an occasion in itself.

It would be more romantic if Luke wasn’t constantly looking around, checking if anyone’s paying attention to them. He’s not sure if Luke simply worries he’s sticking out — admittedly, he’d fit in better if he wasn't sporting a shiner from the game against the Lightning last week — or if he’s expecting to be recognized.

They’re in New York City. He plays for the Devils. On the third line. Andreas thinks he’s likely safe.

He says that — more diplomatically, of course — and Luke mumbles, “It looks like we’re on a date.”

“It could just be a business dinner,” Andreas says, rather than pointing out that they are, in fact, on a date, so it’s not like anyone would be getting the wrong impression. It’s not like Andreas would like that known either — he can imagine Dave’s face if he found out he was at a Michelin star restaurant with a client off the clock.

“Really?” Luke asks. “Here?”

The ambiance is admittedly romantic. Andreas doesn’t know why Luke suggested it. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like. More likely he didn’t think it through, thought it’d be nice at the time, in a particular mood, and regrets it now. That whim that makes him occasionally ask Andreas to move in, but never bring it up again outside of bed.

The whim that means that he dropped the gloves against Hicks even though he promised Andreas he’d try to avoid fighting at least long enough to let his nose properly heal. The good news is Hicks somehow avoided his nose, which was either good luck or good sportsmanship. Andreas has decided on the latter — Hicks is signed to their agency, and Andreas would prefer not to hold an irrational grudge against him. Especially considering Luke was the one who started it in the first place.

Their appetizers arrive — escargot for Andreas, scallops for Luke — and Luke blanches at Andreas’ plate.

“I thought snails was just some shit people ordered in movies,” Luke says. “You’re really going to eat that?”

“They’re delicious,” Andreas says.

“They’re bugs,” Luke says, for a moment looking like the most oversized toddler of all time. Andreas wouldn’t be surprised to hear the word ‘yucky’ come out of his mouth next.

“Snails are actually in the same family as shellfish,” Andreas says. “And you don’t seem to mind them.”

Luke looks down at his own appetizer, blanching, and Andreas coughs a laugh into his napkin.

“Maybe I’ll wait for my steak,” Luke says.

“Suit yourself,” Andreas says. “I’ll just be here with my delicious bugs.”

“Dre,” Luke whines.

The escargot is superb. As are Luke’s scallops, which he no longer has the stomach for.

*

“Did I ruin shellfish for you?” Andreas asks.

“What?” Luke says. “Andreas, what time is it?”

“Late,” Andreas says. “Was it the escargot?”

Luke squints at him, then sits up, and Andreas no longer crushed under his weight. He misses it a little, but that’s his own fault.

“I don’t want to ruin things for you,” Andreas says.

“You don’t,” Luke says.

“So it wasn’t the snails?” Andreas asks.

Luke makes the exact same face he did years ago, the one Andreas can only describe as ‘yucky’. Andreas was annoyed with it then, but now all he feels is affection. That and guilt.

“It was the snails,” Andreas says.

“More me reading way too much about shit after,” Luke says.

That’s still the snails.

“I’m sorry,” Andreas says.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Luke yawns, lying back down. “I hadn’t thought of it in years.”

Perhaps he hasn’t, but Andreas still thinks ruining shellfish for a crustacean lover deserves some level of penance.

“Next time I’ll order the foie gras,” Andreas says.

Luke sits up again. “Did you know that foie gras—“

“Or not,” Andreas says, slinging his own leg over Luke’s, and Luke settles, enough that Andreas can wrap an arm around his chest, put his head on his shoulder. It’s comfortable. He can see why Luke likes it.

“You’re heavy,” Luke mumbles.

Andreas considers pointing out that Luke does this every night, and he’s a fair sight heavier than Andreas, but who knows what would happen? It might just make Luke stop doing it entirely, and Andreas would miss it.

“Do you want me to move?” Andreas asks.

“No,” Luke says, and Andreas presses a smile against his collarbone, closes his eyes.

[nathandrakeisabottom]

Yesss please sam drake food/eating hcs?? Fave meals, hated meals, etc

It is with great joy and great belatedness that I post my first Uncharted piece in ages. Thank you for the lovely ask, anon. :)

⋆ Sam Drake - Eating Headcanons ⋆

Two words: scarcity mindset.

After running away from Saint Frances’s, to claim money was tight is to be telling some humorous bit, Money was borderline non-existent. And as such, came what the Drake boys do best: theft. 

Liquor stores were their easiest, and most consistent source. Sam still takes great pride in telling his many stories revolving around ‘cashier meet-cutes’ disguising their proudest heist to date: a 12-year-old Nathan smuggling canned goods under a moth-holed hoodie. 

Because of this, gas station snacks: twinkies, Lays chips, slurpees, etc. all tend to give him this simultaneous sense of nostalgia and nausea. Like when you’re eating eggs and all of a sudden, your body gags on the next bite.

But on an especially shitty day, expect him to be gobbling a Big Gulp and a half-frozen hot dog on the nearest street corner, with a half-smoked cigarette still sunken between his lips. It’s the way he wallows. 

Secretly wants you to tell him how bad that shit is for him so he has an excuse to snottily spat back “who the ‘ell cares?”. He finds pride in not caring about anything. (He cares about everything.)

Getting fast food at the drive-thru? Man waves you off a total of three times claiming he doesn’t want nothing before proceeding to eat half of your McNuggets without asking. He loves BBQ sauce and needs Tabasco on everything like it’s his will to live.

Big fan of spicy, sour, and tart, anything that makes your mouth pucker. Pretzels, salt and vinegar chips, cottage cheese, pickles, pineapple (😉). “What can I say? I admire a fruit that fights back!” — he snorts before taking a raw bite of a lemon, just to squirm you out.

Maybe a bit of the masochist in him. 

When he and Nate were able to get proper gigs (12-year-old Nathan: illegally, of course), they were able to progress to the simplest of grocery outlet options. Eggs, instant ramen packets, canned vegetables that were 9 out of 10 times eaten raw out of the can with a fork, and more nothing-but-toast-for-dinner than they’d want to admit).

Sam and Nate spent most of their childhood eating their dad’s scrambled eggs and microwaved peas. When their mom passed, and dad released them to the state, Sam decided he’d only ever eat over-easy again.

Nate still chooses scrambled. He asks for cheese and green onions to split the difference, but always ends up only eating half of it before the memories come too strong and he has to push his plate away. 

QUICK eater. MESSY eater. And I mean quick and messy. 

Will use as minimal cutlery as possible, and if disposable, even better.

A scooper. Tends to be a chronic careless spiller with how frequently he tries to funnel all the last crumbs into his mouth, how quickly he chugs even a glass of water. (Most shirts of his are stained as a result.)

Tends to wait till the last possible moment to eat or drink anything. Breakfast basically doesn’t exist to him. 

Spills more beverage down his chin and shirt than his mouth (but a wet t-shirt certainly isn’t the worst thing to happen. Especially not to Samuel Drake. ;)

Pizza order: Meat Lover’s with extra sausage. Maybe some green bell peppers when he finally compromises with Nate during movie night.

Never, ever orders (well, non-alcoholic) drinks when eating out. And only water when he finally lets himself cave. Otherwise, he’s stealing sips from the nearest patron’s Jarrito bottle (his favorite is Tamarind).

Doesn’t bother cleaning up his fruit peels or peanut shells, even around others. That shit’s going on the floor without a second look.

Surprisingly, a king and natural on the BBQ. Despite having so little in their childhood, Sam still tried to go hard on the holidays for Nathan’s sake. Fourth of July is still Nate’s favorite holiday exclusively because of Sam’s public park-smoked ribs and the long, bumpy motorcycle ride up the highest hill in whatever city they were currently loitering in, just to see the fireworks. 

A dive bar master. Nate always orders whatever grease-covered appetizer they got in the back. Sam purposely keeps his stomach empty so there’s more room for whiskey. (Since nobody asked, incredible at pool, and will offer any woman in a twenty foot circumference a lesson. Cue the leaning chest over back, cue stick fantasy.)

A love language that was a total surprise to him is his partner cooking/baking something just for him, especially if it’s from scratch. Gets that rare, soft look in his eyes as he watches them carefully place each steaming plate onto the table. And trust, he’s not looking at the food when it happens.

Loves his partner in an apron. Like… loves his partner in an apron.

Make him food, and as soon as it’s eaten, he’s eating you after. ;)

When he finally settles down post-Madagascar, it’s a fucking struggle to get him to go grocery shopping at all for the first few months. 

Self-punishment, maybe. 

Nathan buys them himself instead and leaves them on the porch of Sam’s trailer park home when he’s too depressed to answer the door. 

Basically has to be forced to eat actual meat and vegetables. For the first few months, he reverts and eats only familiar prison food. The same single pot of chili/beans for a whole week, half portions only for each meal. Uncooked canned carrots. Microwave popcorn when Nathan calls him asking if he’s eaten, and when Sam lies, it sounds more believable with the microwave droning in the background.

However, when he finally starts to pick himself back up, when he gets his first day job since prison, finally lets Nate buy him a used truck to get around, his first solo call from Sully, that’s when he finally starts to eat.

And when he finally feels like himself again, when he finally lets himself want to live again, the first hobby that Sam Drake takes up is cooking.

[formulauno98]

Once Upon a Time in France | Chapter Eight

You finally had some time alone with your beau but things were almost too perfect, it was inevitable that they were going to unravel.

Word Count: 11.1k

Warnings: This chapter is spicy spice. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys and girls) 🌶

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe. Sorry for the incredibly long hiatus, Chapter 9 will be up asap.

SUNDAY PM

Flying Easyjet from London Luton to Nice reminded you exactly how lucky you were to have the luxury of frequently flying privately. Although a short flight, you found yourself squeezed between two businessmen, each off-putting for their own reasons and you found yourself counting down the minutes until landing. The man to the left of you, who had the honour of having the window seat, was watching a movie on his iPad. No big deal you would think, except for the fact that he was watching it on speaker mode and it had some dubious bedroom scenes. To your right, on the aisle seat, was another suited and booted older man. On spotting you were his seat neighbour he’d proceeded to try and chat you up, not taking the hint that you weren’t in the slightest bit interested.

Glancing at your watch you saw there were only twenty minutes left, the crew would be preparing for landing any minute now. Toto had offered to collect you from the airport and you were looking forward to spending some real time with him, away from the race track and more importantly, away from prying eyes.

– – –

The plane having landed on time, you made it through security in record timing and had even had the luxury of your luggage coming out of the carousel first. As you made your way into Arrivals you were suddenly nervous, you were going to spend a week alone with Toto. Although you worked together and were constantly stealing moments, you hadn’t spent an extended amount of time with just the two of you and you hoped that things would not be awkward.

Making your way through the throng of people standing waiting outside customs you spotted Toto in a flash, his imposing height always a dead giveaway. He flashed a charming grin as you approached him, bending down to plant a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“How was the flight?” he asked, as he took your large suitcase and large Longchamp tote off of your hands, “Jessas Maria, what do you have in this, bricks?”

Laughing you replied, “Make-up, shampoo, the essentials. And it was okay thanks, I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

Toto shook his head, “You and your essentials. Not at all, I’ve only been here a few minutes, it was perfect timing. I parked just outside, do you want to go?”

Following Toto as he started to make a move you couldn’t stop smiling. It was kind of him to come and collect you from the airport as it was always a hassle, no matter where you were in the world.

“Excuse me, Toto?” a voice called out from your right-hand side. It was the sleazy man from the plane.

Toto whipped his head around, “Hi, can I help you?”

“Well, I just wanted to say I’m a big fan. Could I please take a photo?” the man got closer, “I was sitting next to your wife on the plane.” He grinned at you hopefully.

“My wife?” said Toto, raising an eyebrow, “Y/N is my colleague.”

The man’s face reddened, “Oh, I see. I’m sorry, I saw you kiss her so thought you were married…” he proceeded to turn to you “You didn’t seem interested on the plane so I put two and two together.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” you smiled politely, not wanting to embarrass Toto, always mindful that one bad fan encounter could end up flashed across the news.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your day,” he replied, taking out his phone and standing next to Toto, still hopeful for a selfie. Laden down with your baggage Toto stood there awkwardly as the man struggled to fit him in frame.

“Could you possibly take the photo for me?” he asked you.

“Of course,” you said, again with a neutral smile.

You took a few, trying to make sure your tote bag was out of frame just in case anyone from the team were to see and handed the phone back.

“Amazing, thank you so much,” the man said.

“You’re welcome, nice to meet you,” said Toto with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, sending the man off on his merry way.

As you crossed the street to the car park you turned to Toto. “He was such a creep on the plane, he kept asking for my number.”

Toto grimaced, “I could tell, he was staring at you. His eyes lit up when I said you weren’t my wife.”

“Odd,” you said as you followed Toto towards his car, a surprisingly nondescript GLC, Toto looked troubled. “Y/N.”

“Yes,” you replied, curious about what he was about to ask.

“Does that always happen to you?”

“What?”

“Men hitting on you?”

“Why?”

“Just curious,” he said, setting your bag down on top of your suitcase as he unlocked the car.

You couldn’t help but smile as you clocked that it wasn’t any old GLC, but a top-of-the-range AMG line one. Of course, Toto would choose that.

“This is nice, where have you been hiding this?” You said as you settled into the luxurious quilted leather passenger seat.

“It’s actually not mine, they are letting me try it for the weekend,” Toto said looking shifty as he slid into the driver's seat beside you.

“Trying to impress me with a rental Mr Wolff?” You laughed, grabbing his hand playfully.

“Is it working?” He replied with a smirk, reaching across to caress your face lightly, “I’ve missed you Y/N.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You said fondly, turning towards him for a sneaky kiss, aware that although you were not at work, you were very much out in the open in the airport car park.

A classic man, Toto was not on the same wavelength about discretion and passionately cupped your face, drawing you in for a deeper kiss before breaking apart and adding breathily, “I’ve missed this.”

Blushing, you replied, “Me too. It was a long week without you.”

“Tell me about it,” said Toto, squeezing your knee gently before turning back towards the steering wheel “Shall we make a move?”

“Sounds good to me,” you said with a smile. You were finally alone with Toto, mostly away from prying eyes and able to gauge what to make of this budding relationship.

– – –

As you sped along the coastal road towards Monaco you glanced out of the window at the sparkling blue sea below. You flew through the sleepy fishing port of Villefranche-sur-Mer, the hillside retreat of Eze and the luxurious town of Cap d’Ail in record timing, listening to the dulcet tones of French radio and Toto’s local tour guide titbits along the way.

The reason why you had this time in Monaco was to oversee another Drive to Survive shoot with Toto. The production crew wanted to spend time with him in his hometown, away from the hustle and bustle of a race weekend. You’d told Sophie to tell the company travel agent that you were staying with a friend in Monaco, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

As you started the ascent into Monaco, through the winding network of underground tunnels you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to the first time you’d come here. It was your third race with the team and your first sponsor dinner and had been the beginning of the end when it came to your feelings for Toto. As soon as you set eyes on him, waiting in your hotel lobby, dressed up for the evening, you were instantly smitten.

It wasn’t long before you reached an imposing apartment building overlooking the wide expanse of beach. Toto slowed down, indicating to turn down what looked like a dead end.

“Is this going to be some kind of supervillain lair?” you said with a laugh.

Smirking, Toto reached for his key fob and pushed a button, “Perhaps…” 

Your eyes lit up as what looked like a wall opened up to reveal a neat underground parking garage. “Okay, you were not playing.”

“Of course not,” Toto said with a smile, driving into the gap that had just appeared as if by magic. 

“So this is where you live huh?” you said curiously, eyeing up the impressive row of cars parked in the garage.

“Yes, I live in this car park,” said Toto with a deadpan face.

“Very funny,” you said.

Toto smiled before frowning slightly, his brow furrowing, “However, I would like to forewarn you, I have not done much with the place. It came furnished so I didn’t see the point of spending more money on furniture I barely use.”

Surprised by Toto’s admission you smiled, “I’m sure it’s beautiful, and I’m here to see you, not judge you on your interior design skills. That will be my next visit.”

Toto laughed as he parked the car effortlessly, pulling up in between two cars that were hidden under fabric covers yet suspiciously sports car shaped. “Okay, well I hope you will visit again after this one.”

‘Let’s see.” you said, waggling your eyebrow at Toto before hopping out of the now stationary car.

“You are awful sometimes,” he said, rushing around to open the boot and retrieve your luggage.

“Thank you, Toto,” you said, smiling up at your tall beau as he set your suitcase gently down on the concrete floor.

Just as you made to grab the handle, he batted your hand away, “Let me take it, it’s heavy.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, knowing full well he would not allow you to carry your own luggage.

Your response was met with a raised eyebrow as Toto closed the boot, scooped up your tote and rolled your suitcase towards a small door to the left of where you were parked.

Crossing into a compact but luxe lift lobby Toto pressed his key fob to a panel and the lift pinged. 

“Let me guess, this is your own private lift?” you said, following him into the small space.

“Well it’s convenient,” he said sheepishly.

“Okay Mr Bigshot,” you said with a smile. It was easy to forget just how wealthy Toto was at times. 

Now his turn to blush, Toto added, “I hope you don’t find it ostentatious. I bought it for the view.”

Just as you were about to ask what the view was, your question was answered. The lift door opened to reveal a spacious living area, furnished very tastefully in cream and blue, a nod to the nautical location. The back wall of the room was entirely glass, opening out onto a sweeping balcony with a panoramic view of the sea.

“Well, I can see why!” You exclaimed, taking a step into the living area, “It’s beautiful Toto.”

Looking relieved, Toto followed you out of the lift, placing his hand on the small of your back, “It’s not bad. Let me show you around. I want you to feel at home here.”

You smiled, “I’m sure that will be a struggle.”

– – –

Toto proceeded to show you around his surprisingly spacious bachelor pad. There was another sitting area to the side of the one the lift had brought you into, cosier with a large TV and an L-shaped sofa decked out with blankets and pillows, perfect for a movie night. He had a small but well-stocked kitchen diner with a large marble island in the middle that looked out onto the sea, and more glass walls that opened out onto an outdoor barbecue area. 

There was also a formal dining room, a very impressive corner office with yet more glass and two ensuite guest bedrooms for his children. Just as you were starting to wonder where Toto’s bedroom was, your question was answered as he took you up a small set of stairs to a second floor. This wasn’t just any apartment, this was a duplex.

Toto’s bedroom had the best view of all, perched higher than the other rooms, you could see the entire expanse of the bay, from Monte Carlo to Roquebrune Cap Martin. His bed was simple but cloud-like, with white-striped hotel-esque sheets and fluffy pillows. And best of all, he had a large bathtub at one end, ideally placed to soak and enjoy the view.

“Toto, your place is insane.” You said as he opened up a set of doors to reveal another small terrace, this time furnished with two daybeds and a telescope.

“Thank you… I think.” He said, “As I said, it needs a woman’s touch, it came with all of this furniture and I didn’t change much.”

You laughed, “Honestly, I wouldn’t have changed anything, whoever designed it had excellent taste.”

“Well I’m glad you like it, I’d like to spend more time here with you.” He said, wrapping his arm around your waist, “Do you want to grab a bite to eat? Or we can have something simple and eat in?”

Tired from your flight you were glad he was open to staying in, “Maybe tonight we stay in and then I’ll be fresh for tomorrow?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Toto, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I have everything we’d need for a charcuterie board, or I can cook a steak frites?”

“Ooh, you’re so fancy with your charcuterie boards…” you laughed, cuddling up to the tall Austrian, “I’m happy with either, I’m intrigued actually by the charcuterie board.”

“Intrigued? It’s ham and cheese with some grapes.” He replied with a laugh, “I have baguette too.”

“Are you propositioning me?” You laugh.

“Maybe, would you like that?” He said, with a growl, grabbing your ass cheek as you made your way down the stairs towards the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t mind.” You said, turning to face him.

“Well, it would be rude not to then.” He said and in one deft movement, picked you up, carried you all the way to the kitchen, placing your legs akimbo on the kitchen island.

For once the height difference worked, with Toto barely having to bend down to meet your lips with his, feverishly running his hands up and down your thighs and beyond.

Deepening the kiss, you ran your hands up and down Toto’s back, bringing him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and feeling him growing increasingly harder.

Breaking the kiss and coming up for air, you caressed Toto’s cheek lightly, “Will you fuck me right here?”

Toto’s eyes narrowed with lust, wordlessly answering you as he unbuckled his chinos, pushed your panties to one side and pushed his cock into you mercilessly.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, still not fully used to his impressive size.

Toto’s demeanour switched instantly, his eyes transforming from lust to concern as he stilled inside you, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

“Oh my gosh, don’t be silly, you’re just big!” You said, meeting him once more for a kiss.

“Well please tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop,” he said, his brown eyes crinkled with kindness.

“Deal.” You said, kissing him once more before adding, “But please for God’s sake move.”

“If you’re sure?” He said, raising an eyebrow as he gently pulled out and pushed back in, “Is this okay?”

“Now that is perfect.” You said, “Keep doing that.”

Toto continued to thrust into you, first of all with slow, shallow strokes, before switching up to a more rapid pace of deep and forceful fucking.

“Fuck, Toto, keep doing that and I’m almost there.” You exclaimed after one particularly head-spinning thrust. 

“Mmm.” He said as he grabbed your breast in one hand and reached down with the other to draw circles on your clit, continuing to pump in and out.

“Fuck, Toto.” was all you managed to get out as he took you almost to the brink. It wasn’t long before you were seeing stars, and experiencing one of the most intense orgasms of your life. As you came around his cock, Toto slowed down, mindful that once again you were being reckless and fucking without protection.

“Come on, I want you to cum too.” You said, mindful that he was near.

“But we need to be careful Y/N. I’m not as young as I was and I worry I can’t pull out in time.” Toto said, stilling inside you, coming to his senses.

“Well then, maybe you can cum somewhere else.” You said with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Oh really?” Toto said, still containing to lazily thrust in and out.

Shifting back, you pulled away from Toto, letting his cock fall out of you. Hopping down from the counter, you turned him around so that his back was now facing the counter, bending to take him in your mouth.

“Mmm,” you said as you struggled to fit it all in, gripping the base with one hand as you ran your tongue up and down.

“Hang on, do you want to move? This can’t be comfortable for you.” Said Toto, ever the worrier.

“Maybe to the couch?” You suggested as you came up for air and eyed up the white linen sofa in the corner of the kitchen.

“Perfect.” Said Toto, once again scooping you up in his arms and carrying you across the room. This time, however, he took a seat on the sofa, allowing you to perch on your knees in front of him.

“Mmm,” you said as you took his cock once again in your mouth, “This is much better.”

Toto groaned as you continued sucking and swirling and caressing his balls with one hand as you bobbed up and down.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close.” Exclaimed Toto, “Fuck, I’m going to cum!”

He was clearly trying to be a gentleman and pull out but you were determined to swallow so you doubled down with your tongue, hoping he would let loose. Sure enough, he pumped into your mouth, leaving you gagging slightly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, that was a lot,” he said, rubbing his forehead as if he was back on planet Earth.

Wiping your mouth, you made your way back up onto the sofa, draping yourself across his chest as he tucked his cock back into his chinos.

“Don’t be silly, I wanted to do it.” you said, “Although we are both way too clothed for my liking.”

“But isn’t that half of the fun?” said Toto with a smirk. “Now when I look at my island I’ll think of you.”

You laughed, “Damn, why did we not do that at mine so I can do the same?”

“Well you can think of me when you use your closet.” replied Toto, getting up to move, “Now, I know you’ve just eaten but let’s get some food.”

“Jesus, what a line boss.” you said, rolling your eyes at him, following suit and getting up from the sofa “As long as I can have the other baguette you promised?”

MONDAY AM

Following on from your racy kitchen island encounter, you’d had your charcuterie board (which didn’t disappoint), unpacked your suitcase into Toto’s half-empty closet, watched a movie (Fast and Furious of course,) and then spent the night cuddled up to Toto in his supremely comfortable bed. 

Waking up to the spectacular view you couldn’t believe that he so frequently chose to spend time in Oxfordshire over here.

“Toto, can I ask you something?” you said as you felt him stir beside you.

“Hmmm five minutes,” he said sleepily, turning the pillow back over his head.

You shook your head, still surprised by how much of a sleepyhead the seemingly regimented Team Principal secretly was. Trying your best not to wake him, you snuck out of bed, grabbing your trusty waffle bathrobe and padded down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

You’d barely been in there five minutes when a boxer-clad Toto emerged down the stairs, his hair rumpled with sleep and eyes screwed up as if he was barely awake.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” you said, “Do you want a tea or coffee?”

“Morning beautiful,” he said, making his way over to you to kiss you, “I’ll make a coffee don’t worry. I have some breakfast things too if you want.”

“Ah no worries, I’m happy with tea for now,” you said, cosying up to him before breaking free to pour your tea.

“Are you sure?” he said, as he busied himself making a coffee.

“Yeah, I’m not a big breakfast eater.”

“Hold on, I make you eat breakfast all the time, even in Austria,” he said, looking slightly horrified. “Are you just being polite?”

“No, I like it, I just never have time so have got used to not eating it. It’s a treat when we have our breakfast meetings,” you said, hoping to appease him.

“I’m not sure if I would call Austria a breakfast meeting,” he said with a smirk.

“Well, I can’t say I do those kinds of meetings with anybody else,” you replied, settling onto the stool at the kitchen island.

“Me neither,” Toto replied, as he poured his coffee.

“You know the team are onto you though,” you said, deciding now was the time to broach what Olivia had brought up in the motorhome in Austria.

“What do you mean?” said Toto, his head whipping around, now fully awake.

“Olivia overheard you telling Lewis about a new lady friend.”

Toto looked blindsided, “What did she overhear?”

Smiling, you decided to tell half the truth, “Just that you were seeing someone. I’m hoping you were talking about me, otherwise, this is hella awkward.”

Realisation dawned on Toto, “Oh, Lewis was asking me the other day. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have told him anything but he noticed I seemed happier and asked me outright if I had a new girlfriend.”

“Well I do feel guilty that George knows and he doesn’t.” you said, “I still wish Lara didn’t but I guess these things happen.”

Toto looked deep in thought, “Lewis doesn’t know it’s you. I just told him I’d met someone. I wouldn’t jeopardise your position in the team like that.”

“No no, don’t worry about it, Toto. I think it wasn’t ideal that Olivia overheard but again, these things can’t be helped,” you said, reaching over to squeeze Toto’s hand as he sat down beside you at the kitchen island.

“Indeed, but the rest of the team have noticed?” Toto said, looking deep in thought as he sipped his coffee.

“Oh don’t worry, they were all tipsy after Austria and speculating.” you paused, deciding whether or not it was a good idea for you to tell Toto about what Lara had said but decided ultimately it was not worth it, “It was nothing serious.”

“Ok, I trust your judgement on this. Just let me know if anything does get tricky,” he said reassuringly.

– – –

Having spent the morning working from one of Toto’s spare rooms and trying your best to avoid any video calls with anyone who would clock where you were, lunchtime had crept up. Toto had promised to take you to one of his favourite casual eateries if you both had time and thankfully it was looking likely that you would.

You were composing one last email when Toto came looking for you, having been working himself in his office.

“I hope you’re not working too hard,” he said as he stood behind you, rubbing your shoulders.

“You say that, but if I sacked off work, you’d notice,” you said, typing your sign-off and pressing send.

“That’s true, and that’s why you're my favourite Director of Communications,” he replied with a smirk.

“I’m the only Director of Communications,” you said, rolling your eyes and standing up to face Toto, “Do you want to go and grab some lunch?”

“For sure, we can go to the pizza place I know if you’d like?” said Toto, placing his hands on your waist, swaying your hips slightly.

“Sounds good to me, although you’re being very distracting,” you said, leaning into his broad chest.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to do, distract you from work,” he said, leaning down to kiss you.

“You are a terrible boss.” you said, kissing him back with enthusiasm, “And if you don’t stop distracting me, we’re never going to leave this room, let alone your house.”

“That’s true.” he said with a smirk, “Come on then, let’s go.”

– – –

Sitting down at the small table set for two in Toto’s chosen restaurant, you were acutely aware that this was the first time you’d gone out together as a couple, and not for something work-related. Sensing your awkwardness, Toto smiled at you from across the table, taking your hand in his reassuringly.

“Don’t look so nervous Y/N, I’m the same guy you were just kissing all but ten minutes ago,” he said.

“I’m not nervous, it’s just weird to be out like this,” you said, glancing around you as if you were half expecting the team or some journalist to jump out.

“Look, we’re doing this, and if someone sees us, so be it and we can say it’s a meeting if you feel more comfortable?” Toto said, his face etched with concern. 

“No, it’s not like that. I’m happy to be out.” you said, squeezing Toto’s hand, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Me too,” said Toto, looking at you with the piercing glare you’d grown so fond of. “I think we should probably take a look at these menus, no?”

“Ooh yes, it all looks good though, what do you recommend?” you said, sneaking a look around at your fellow diners’ tables.

“Do you trust me to order for us?” asked Toto, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” you said, without batting an eyelid.

WEDNESDAY PM

The last two days with Toto had been bliss. Since your casual lunch date, you’d been out twice more, once for dinner, followed by a beach walk and once for brunch. It was official, you were dating for real. You were well aware of the stares that followed Toto wherever he went but thankfully, people in Monaco seemed relatively unbothered and there had only been one incident where a woman had rushed up and asked for a photo on the beach.

So far, the majority of the team remained unaware of your blossoming relationship and as much as you adored Toto, you felt it was wiser to keep it lowkey for now.

Toto was spending the morning filming with the Drive to Survive crew, this time, driving them around Monaco in his prized 300SL. Thankfully this meant that space was limited and you hadn’t had to ride along. You had, however, popped around to Lewis’ to go through press commitments.

When you had first accepted this role, you never in a million years would have dreamt that you would end up casually popping over to Lewis Hamilton’s house but life sometimes works in mysterious ways. At least that’s what you told yourself as you rang the buzzer at the bottom of his building, humorously labelled as “Roscoe,” after his beloved pet bulldog.

“Hey Y/N, it’s open come up!” came a voice through the loudspeaker. Lewis was an interesting character, who for all his fame and fortune, remained incredibly down to earth.

“Coming!” you said as you dashed through the unlocked door to the lift lobby. Like Toto, Lewis also had his own private lift, something that you were starting to learn was not uncommon in this funny little country full of far too rich people.

Making your way up, you glanced down to check your phone, half expecting to have heard from Pete, your Netflix nemesis, that Toto was being difficult. Thankfully there was radio silence, which you took to mean good news.

Soon enough you reached Lewis’ floor and the doors pinged open to reveal the enigmatic racing driver waiting for you.

“Hey! Long time no see!” he said warmly, stretching out his arms for a hug.

“Hey Lewis, I know it’s been a while. How’s everything?” you asked.

“I’m good thanks, just got back from a run.” he replied, “How are you? Enjoying Monaco?”

“Nice,” you said, glancing around at your surroundings. Lewis’ home was much more understated than Toto’s and you could tell that he was much younger from his decor choices. There was a life-sized Star Wars figurine in one corner and huge canvases and movie posters adorning the walls as far as the eye could see. “I’m good thanks, it’s been quite hectic but it’s good to get out here early. Toto is filming with Netflix again.”

“Glad to hear it, I hope Toto has been showing you around town?” Lewis said, before adding, “Can I get you a drink or anything?”

Smiling as you thought to yourself of the places Toto had shown you, you replied tactfully, “Yes, he’s shown me a few places. Maybe a cup of tea would be nice if you have one?”

“I’ve always got a cuppa!” said Lewis with a wink, “Come with me, let’s chat in the kitchen.”

Following Lewis down a short corridor, he brought you through into a small kitchen area, dark grey with black marble countertops, most definitely a bachelor pad.

“Ooh this is nice,” you said, “How long have you lived here?”

“Ah thank you, oh gosh like ten years?” replied Lewis, busying himself filling the kettle.

“Oh wow, ages then,” you replied, getting your laptop and notebook out to go through your agenda. “So where is good to run around here?”

“Ah there are so many coastal paths, I like the one just North of the harbour. It’s less hilly if you want to push.” he said, “Do you take milk and sugar?”

“That sounds cool, Toto hasn’t shown me those yet, I’ll have to get him on that!” you said, slightly forgetting that Lewis wasn’t fully aware of the extent of your relationship, “And just milk, please. Thanks so much.”

“Y/N. Can I ask you something?” said Lewis, suddenly turning to face you, his chocolate-brown eyes full of curiosity.

“Sure, what’s up?” you said, knowing what was coming next.

“Are you Toto’s new girlfriend?”

“Well…” you began, not sure what the best course of action was, not having discussed this with Toto.

“Knew it!” said Lewis, a broad grin breaking out across his face.

“Hey! I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to, your eyes betrayed you. I knew it, the way he looks at you.” Lewis said, somewhat smugly.

“Okay, well, girlfriend is a stretch, we are just at the very beginning of something. So I would appreciate it if you keep it to yourself,” you said, hoping that he would get the memo.

“Of course, I’m just happy for you.” Lewis said, “And for Toto, he’s been such a work robot these last few years, I’m always telling him to put himself out there.”

“Thank you, Lewis, I appreciate that,” you said smiling as he set a cup of tea down in front of you.

“What I wanna know is, how did it start? Who rizzed up who?” Lewis said, settling beside you with a cheeky glint in his eye, cup of tea at the ready.

“Oh my God, go ask Toto!” you said, laughing at Lewis’ gossipy tendencies.

“Ok, I will.” he said “I bet it was you. He’s weirdly shy.”

“Lewis!” you exclaimed, before sighing. “It was kind of me.”

“What do you mean, kind of?” he asked.

Sighing once again, you decided to tell the truth, “Right, please do not tell Toto I told you this. After the boat race in Canada, I went to his room to return his shirt I borrowed and one thing led to another.”

Lewis’s face was a picture, eyes wide and mouth open, “Oh my God, that’s why you didn’t come for dinner!?”

Giggling slightly you nodded, “Yup.”

“This is juicy.” he said, “Does anyone else know?”

“A few people have accidentally found out.”

“Oh my God, who?” 

“You are such a gossip hound Lewis!” you said, taking a sip of tea, “George, Rosie and Lara.”

“George knows! Fuck I’m going to have words with him. How long has he known?” Lewis said, clearly put out that his younger teammate had gossip that he hadn’t.

“A few weeks, and don’t, I think he’s scarred for life.”

“Oh my God, did he walk in on you?”

“Not exactly...” you said, still cringing as you thought about what George and Rosie had overheard.

“I wanna know so bad!” said Lewis.

“He phoned Toto while we were together and Toto didn’t hang up properly so George and Rosie overheard everything that was going on.”

At this Lewis almost fell off of his stool, “No way! That’s hilarious. I bet they were so embarrassed, oh to be a fly on that wall.”

“Poor kids are scarred for life,” you said.

“So what about Lara, how does she know? I’m surprised she’s kept quiet, she loves gossip that girl.”

“Oh she’s trickier, she walked in on us in Toto’s office… and before you say anything I was just kissing him, nothing crazy. She went mental though and ever since keeps dropping hints to people. I thought Toto was going to fire her on the spot, he was livid at what she said.”

“Really?” asked Lewis, “Livid Toto is not someone I’d want to cross.”

“Yep, me neither,” you said, thinking back to the tense conversation in Toto’s office. 

“So this is very exciting.” said Lewis, sipping his tea once again, “As I said, I’m happy for you both.”

“Thanks, Lewis, I appreciate it,” you said with a smile, “Right, shall we go through these notes?”

– – –

You’d just finished reviewing Lewis’ upcoming schedule when your phone buzzed.

Y/N, we’re done, are you still at Lewis’? 

It was Toto. Hurriedly you typed a reply.

Yes but just finished, shall I meet you at yours?

“I know who’s got you smiling like that…” said Lewis, wagging his tongue suggestively.

“You’re terrible Lewis. I’d love for you to tease Toto in the same way.”

“I’m definitely not going to tease him, dude’s punching. You’re the one I worry for.”

“Somehow I don’t think so,” you said.

“Honestly, you’re a catch. He’s a lucky guy,” he said, his tone more serious.

“Well let’s see,” you said, just as your phone buzzed once more.

I’ll come and meet you, I’m nearby and I want to see Lewis.

Gulping slightly as this meant that Toto would immediately find out you’d blabbed to Lewis, you typed out your reply.

Sure, I’ll wait here.

“Is it okay if I hang out here for a bit? Toto said he wants to see you and will come and collect me.” 

“Course, how romantic, he’s coming to pick you up!” said Lewis.

“Oh my god, one more word and I will arrange endless foreign language interviews for you at the next race.”

“Cool, I’ll download Duolingo,” said Lewis, nonchalantly shrugging.

“I mean it Mr Hamilton.” you said, “This is the danger zone.”

Fortunately, Lewis was saved by the bell as his intercom rang out.

“Hello Lewis, it’s Toto, can I come up?” came a deep voice through the speaker.

“Sure, I’ll buzz you through, boss,” said Lewis, winking at you.

“One word.” you mouthed silently.

“I’m just kidding Y/N. I’m scared of Toto man,” he said, hopping down from the stool and making his way back towards the lift door where Toto would be emerging any minute.

Deciding to follow Lewis, you arrived in the corridor just as the doors opened to reveal your handsome boyfriend.

“Lewis!” he said, scooping the diminutive racing driver into a bear hug. “How are you?”

“Good man, and you?” Lewis replied.

“I’m okay thanks, I just finished filming and thought I’d come and check-in. Y/N, how are you?” 

Toto made his way towards you and bent down for a very chaste kiss on the cheek. Sensing your face betraying you and blushing, you couldn’t look Lewis in the eye as you replied, “Good thanks, how was it?”

“As good as it could be,” said the Austrian wryly. “So, Lewis, the reason I came over was there is something I need to tell you. I always like to be transparent with you and wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Hold up big man.” said Lewis, “I think I can guess.”

Toto raised his eyebrow, looking across at you quizzically. “Oh really?”

“Yes. It’s pretty obvious.”

“What is?”

“That your new girlfriend is someone who works with us.”

Toto looked floored by Lewis’ admission. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that. Is it that obvious?”

“The way she looks at you man, like you’re a piece of meat,” said Lewis.

“Huh?” said Toto, clearly confused.

“Lara, she’s down bad.”

“Lara? No not Lara,” said Toto, getting flustered. “Why would you think I’m dating Lara?”

Lewis burst out laughing, unable to keep stringing Toto along, “I’m just messing. I know it’s Y/N.”

Relief poured over Toto’s face, “How did you know?”

“Toto…” you started.

“I just found out, I asked Y/N straight up and she’s a really bad liar,” said Lewis. “Look, I’m not going to tell anyone and I’m happy for you both.”

“Oh…” said Toto, taken aback that you’d beaten him to it, “Well thank you, Lewis.”

Shimmying over towards Toto, you put an arm around his waist protectively, “Sorry Toto, he called me out almost immediately.”

“I know what he’s like, believe me!” said Toto, throwing a glance over at Lewis.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” said Lewis, shrugging his shoulders. “So what do you two lovebirds have planned now?”

“We’re going to collect our luggage and drive down to France,” said Toto, clutching you close by his side.

“Are we?” you said, not aware that this is what Toto had planned.

“Ooh a surprise, how romantic!” exclaimed Lewis, clapping his hands together, “Right, well then you two gotta go!”

Toto laughed, “We should. Thank you Lewis and I appreciate your discretion.”

“Of course boss!” said Lewis, saluting Toto as you both made your way into the lift, back down to the street level.

“See you on Friday Lewis!” you said, blowing a kiss at the affable racing driver.

“See you!” he said, waving as the lift doors closed softly. “And use protection!”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to Toto, “Sorry he really pressed me.”

“It’s okay Y/N, I knew he would.” Toto said, stroking your hair absentmindedly, “Sorry I didn’t discuss telling him with you first, but I felt guilty knowing George knows and he doesn’t.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s fine. And you’re right, it’s not fair for one to know and one to be in the dark.”

“That was my reasoning. How was Lewis? Apart from the gossiping?”

“He’s good, I think he’s knackered from all the travelling though. How was the filming?”

“I can understand that. It went well, I think. I wish you could have been there but they didn’t ask anything too difficult.”

“Good, I haven’t heard anything from Pete so I thought as much. I’ll let you know when the rushes come over for approval.”

Toto smiled, “Thank you. I forgot how much you love Pete.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, my bestie. So not to stop talking shop but where are you taking me?”

“Now that’s for me to know and you to find out,” said Toto, a mischievous glint in his eye.

– – –

Having gathered some of your luggage, with Toto insisting on you leaving some clothes behind at his, you were now barrelling along the Autoroute towards the Circuit Paul Ricard. As careful as he was in daily life, Toto was a speed demon on the roads, especially in the GLC that wasn’t his.

“So where are we staying?” You asked, still surprised that Toto had decided to go astray from his normally strict race week schedule.

“Wait and see.” He said with a grin, turning up the volume on the radio.

“You’re so annoying,” you moaned, making Toto grin even wider.

“I promise it’s worth the wait,” he said.

“That’s a big promise, Toto,” you said, side-eyeing him from the passenger seat.

“Do you know what else is big?” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake. You are such a child.” you groaned, “Although don’t get cocky but I’m a little sore from last night.”

“Oh really?” Toto’s head whipped around.

“Hey, eyes on the road Mr!” you said, “But yes, a little.”

“Well I don’t want to hurt you,” said Toto.

“It doesn’t hurt, I just feel stretched,” you said, “I was having trouble hiding it in front of Lewis.”

Toto smirked, obviously pleased with himself, “Did he notice?”

“No, he was too busy trying to grill me on everything.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not much, as much as we told George and Rosie.”

“Good, I won’t live it down if he knows anything juicy.” 

“I figured that,” you said, fidgeting in your seat, hoping that Toto wouldn’t be annoyed that you had told Lewis a few titbits. “I don’t want to be a backseat driver but isn’t that the turning?” you said, noticing that Toto had just sped past the exit for the circuit.

“It is, but we’re going somewhere else first.” He said, his face blank, not betraying a single thing.

“This is all very mysterious.” You said, glancing around, trying to guess where you might be off to.

“Don’t panic, we won’t be far,” Toto said, roughly grabbing your thigh before taking the next exit. The road was narrow and twisting and it wasn’t long before it turned into a steep hill.

“Sheesh, this is not what I was expecting.” You said, scared to look as Toto navigated the road at quite some speed.

“It’s not long now, don’t worry.” He said, taking another sudden turn.

“I’m not worried, I’m just wondering where you’re taking me.” You said as the road brought you towards a small cluster of traditional stone buildings. It was all very pretty and you hoped that wherever you were staying looked like this.

You weren’t to be in luck however as Toto sped through the village, taking you back onto a hedge-lined country road, although it wasn’t long before he suddenly started slowing down, as if he was looking for somewhere. 

“Ah yes, this is the one,” he said, indicating down a dubious-looking dirt track.

“If I didn’t know you better, this really feels like a K and R.” You said laughing.

“Damn, you got me,” Toto said laughing as he slowed right down, the car jumping up and down on the bumpy earth track.

“Ooh, are you going to tie me up?” You said, grabbing Toto’s thigh gently.

“You’re into that?” Said Toto, an eyebrow raised, eyes still scouring the road.

“Not really. I’m Miss Vanilla.” You said laughing, “But if you are, maybe you can convert me.”

“No no that’s not for me either,” Toto said, shaking his head before taking another turn off to the right, revealing a large country house that seemingly appeared from nowhere.

“Ooh, this is beautiful!” You said, eyeing up the building before you, blue shutters twinkling in the sun.

“Don’t get too excited, we’re staying in another building.” Said Toto, pulling up the car in the expansive driveway and unbuckling his seatbelt, “Stay here a second, I just need to go and meet the owner.”

“Sure.” You said, curiosity peaked as Toto made his way into the impressive building.

Twiddling your thumbs in the car, you decided to take out your phone and check for messages, a force of habit. Of course, you had zero signal. Hoping that your team would survive until you had wifi you put it away, patiently waiting for Toto to return.

Ten minutes later, he emerged grinning, followed closely by a jovial-looking older gentleman and a small fluffy white dog. Deciding now was the time to get out of the car, you emerged awkwardly, waiting for an introduction.

“Y/N, this is Monsieur de la Tour, he owns the vineyard.” said Toto with a grin, “Monsieur de la Tour, je vous presente Y/N.”

“Enchanté, Monsieur de la Tour,” you spluttered out, desperately trying to remember your French. 

“Lovely to meet you too Y/N,” replied the man in perfect English, “Let me show you both around.”

Grateful that he at least spoke English, you moved to Toto’s side to follow Monsieur de la Tour through a small archway that led you through to a garden. Plants and flowers spilt everywhere you look, twisting around a pergola overhead and bursting out of terracotta pots.

“This is gorgeous.” You said quietly to Toto, his arm draped across your shoulders.

“I’m glad you like it.” He said, his expression unreadable.

You followed Monsieur de la Tour through the garden along a small walkway towards another building. Although smaller than the main house, it was very pretty, with matching blue shutters and vibrant pink bougainvillaeas creeping up the stone walls.

“Et voilà, here is the guesthouse.” Said Monsieur de la Tour, waving his hands emphatically before handing a set of keys to Toto. “Here are the keys, as I said, if you need anything we are just over in the main house.”

“Thank you, it’s perfect.” Said Toto, “And dinner will be served at eight?”

“Yes, that’s right. We look forward to welcoming you.” The older man replied. 

You raised an eyebrow, this was not what you were expecting at all. 

“Lovely to meet you both and we will see you later.” He said, patting his leg for his dog to follow as he made his way back down the pathway.

“Merci beaucoup, à toute!” Said Toto before turning to you and switching to English. “Shall we take a look?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You said, following Toto into the pretty building. 

A quick tour around revealed a charming yet rustic home, decked out in terracotta tiles and vintage French botanical artwork. It wasn’t fancy but it had its charm and you knew you’d have a wonderful time.

“What do you think?” Asked Toto as you made your way back towards the car to collect your luggage.

“It’s gorgeous!” You replied, “Although I’m surprised you chose it.”

“Surprised?” Toto said, “Why?”

Choosing your words carefully you replied, “Well you’re such a city slicker, it’s very country. I would have pegged you as a Cap-Eden-Roc type.”

“I have stayed there, but I wanted to find somewhere more romantic, more you.” Said Toto, his chocolate eyes melting you instantly.

“You big old softie,” you said, reaching up for a kiss before adding, “Who knew?”

“I’m glad you like it.” He said sweetly, opening the boot to take out your luggage. “So something I didn’t tell you is this is a Domaine where they make wine so dinner tonight is on the vineyard.”

“No way!” You said, “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“I know.” He said with a grin, “I remember you told me this last year, so I thought now I can make it happen.”

“Wow, I don’t even remember saying that.” You said, touched by Toto’s sentimentality, “Thank you.”

“You can thank me later,” he said, squeezing your side as he rolled the suitcase along.

“Perv.” You said, squeezing his butt back.

– – –

THURSDAY AM

Dinner at the vineyard had been out of this world, with all the wine and cheese you could ever dream of. By the time you’d fallen into bed with Toto, you were both exceedingly merry and when you’d woken up this morning, you were bemused to discover that you were both still fully clothed. Toto had righted that in record timing, pulling you into the shower alongside him and peppering your entire body with soapy kisses.

It had been a battle to pack up and leave but unfortunately your busy schedules meant you were expected trackside later that morning and you had to peel snap back to reality.

As you made your way back towards the car, you turned to Toto, “Thank you so much for last night, it was amazing. I still can’t believe you remembered.”

Laden with luggage, Toto looked very pleased with himself, “I remember everything Y/N.”

Blushing you replied, “I hope not everything, God knows what I’ve told you when I’m tipsy.”

“God knows and I know.” said Toto, beaming away as you reached the car, unlocking it with a deft flick of the keyfob.

“Wow, that's cheesy.” you said, “Can I help with the cases? I feel bad you’re always carrying everything for me.”

“Don’t be silly.” he said, making light work of putting them in the boot, “You’re much smaller than me, besides, I have been neglecting the gym recently, I need the workout.”

“Well I think you’ve gotten your cardio up lately, no?” you said, casting your memory back to the last sex-filled few days.

“That’s true,” he replied, “Let me just take these keys to Monsieur de la Tour and we’ll get going.”

– – –

True to Toto’s word, it was a very short drive to the circuit, where you’d both be staying trackside in your trusty motorhomes. As you rolled up towards security a thought suddenly hit you.

“Toto, I just realised, are people not going to think it’s weird that you drove me here?”

“Why? They all know you were in Monaco for the filming?”

“That’s true, but so was Lewis and he’s not in the car.”

“You worry too much,” said Toto reassuringly.

“I guess,” you said, not convinced, knowing Lara would definitely have something to say. You’d both remained cagey on your whereabouts for the last two days and she was most definitely onto you.

As Toto pulled up to his designated parking space you clocked a few of your team already milling about in preparation for the upcoming Free Practice. Lewis and George were on their way, via helicopter and the rest of the Senior team were due to arrive any moment, having flown out from the UK that morning.

Opening your door, you were immediately greeted with a voice calling out “Y/N!”

Whipping your head around you saw it was Tom. “Hey Tom, how are you?”

“Good thanks,” replied the young man, eyeing up Toto curiously, “How did you get here so quickly, I thought you’d just left Monaco?”

Feeling foolish at being caught out already, as you’d dropped a text to your team WhatsApp group to say you were on the way, you tripped over your words trying to cover your tracks. “Oh, yes I think the signal was bad so my message sent when we were almost here.”

Seemingly appeased, Tom nodded, “Ugh, signal here is so ropey!” Spotting your pile of luggage that Toto had just taken out of the boot, he wandered around, adding, “Can I help you guys with your bags at all?”

“Oh yeah sure, that would be lovely, thank you, Tom.” You said, shooting a warning glance at Toto to not act weird.

“Thank you, Tom,” said Toto stiffly, acting as if this was a slight on his manhood. “Y/N, I have to take a call, I will see you back in the team motorhome later?”

“Sure.” You said, smirking slightly at Toto’s sudden formality. As if he hadn’t been kissing you here there and everywhere not two hours before. “We’ll put your bags in your motorhome.”

“Thanks, guys,” said Toto, locking the car and heading down towards the paddock.

Scooping up your luggage you fell into step alongside Tom as you made your way towards the motorhomes where you would be staying.

“So you drove down with the boss huh?” He asked.

“Yeah, he offered yesterday as we both had to be here at the same time.”

“That’s nice of him, he’s never offered to drive anyone else.”

You raised your eyebrow, “Well George and Lewis are coming via helicopter and everybody else was in the UK. Would’ve been a hell of a drive.” 

“Makes sense.” Said Tom, before adding, “Right well, I feel like I should warn you, the motorhomes here are super tightly packed in. Yours is almost touching the PAs one.”

Coming to a stop and seeing what he meant you grimaced, “Oof yep, it’s okay though, they’ll just have to suffer my shower singing.”

Tom laughed, “Rather them than me. Although ours is just the other side so we might hear it too.”

“It’s cosy.” You said, “Where is Toto’s? We should put his bags in there for him.”

“Our great leader has his own pitch, no neighbours, jammy fucker.” Tom said, “It’s just over here.”

Following Tom, expertly weaving a path through the haphazardly placed motorhomes you reached a larger trio of motorhomes, “Are these George and Lewis’ too?” You asked.

“Yup. It’s alright for some.” He replied, making his way towards the largest of the three, “Here it is.”

“Great, I’ll grab his bags,” you said, reaching out for the smart duffle and holdall that Toto had hurriedly packed a few days before.

“Ooh, making yourself at home I see.” Called out a voice. Rolling your eyes you turned around to see none other than Lara making a beeline for Toto’s motorhome. “Are you staying here too?”

“Yes, Lara, next door to you.” You said, glaring at her, “We’re just putting Toto’s bags in here for him. Is that okay with you?”

“Well of course, why do you have Toto’s bags?” She said, an evil look in her eye, knowing that Tom was unaware of your situation.

“They just got here, drove down from Monaco.” Chimed in Tom innocently.

“Oh that’s interesting, he didn’t tell me that he was with you,” Lara said, nose in the air.

“Okay, yes it was a secret. You got me. We were doing all kinds of shady shit in Monaco and secretly drove here.”

Tom stared at you, mouth agape as he wasn’t au-fait with your delicate relationship with Lara.

“Well, next time please put it in the diary.” Said Lara, stony-faced. “How are you, Tom?”

Rolling your eyes once again, you dumped Toto’s bags in the living area of his motorhome, you couldn’t believe Lara.

Emerging to find Sophie had joined Lara and Tom in their chitchat you greeted your assistant.

“Hey Sophie, how are you getting on?” You asked, joining their circle.

“Good thanks, how was Monaco?” She asked as if you hadn’t been in constant communication via WhatsApp.

“Busy!” You said, “I’m going to go and drop my bags off and I’ll see you all in the paddock, okay?”

“Cool, see you,” said Sophie and Tom in unison, Lara glowering away.

FRIDAY PM

Walking into the paddock to check in on Free Practice, you hadn’t expected to encounter any difficulties but these days it seemed like everyone was on your case.

“Y/N!” a voice called out from behind you. 

Turning around you were disappointed to see it was Toto’s arch-rival, Red Bull Team Principal, Christian Horner. Great.

“Hello Christian, how are you?” You said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“All the better having seen you.” He said sleazily, sidling up alongside you “Where’s loverboy?”

“Loverboy?” You said, knowing full well he was referring to Toto but not wanting to let him wind you up.

“Yeah, the tall guy, sounds like the Terminator? I heard you fuck him now and then?”

Internally screaming at the crude language you tried your best to keep level-headed. “Keep your fantasies to yourself, Christian, it’s unbecoming.”

“I’d rather you than me. What’s he really like?” He asked, walking alongside you as you tried to keep moving and shake him off, “I bet he’s tiny where it counts. Tall guys always are lacking.”

Having reached your limit, you could no longer stay polite, “Christian, what is actually wrong with you?”

He smirked, “Aw standing up for loverboy. How sweet. Don’t get burnt by him though. I could tell you some stories.”

Looking at him with disdain, “Look, I do not know what you are talking about. I’m the Director of Communications, nothing more, nothing less. Do you talk to all of your colleagues like this?”

“Just the pretty ones.”

“Lovely.” You said, in a tone that suggested it was anything but. “What do you really want Christian?”

“Just to talk to a pretty lady, that’s all.” He said, “And like I said, look after yourself, Toto is not the gentleman he appears to be.”

“Not like you I suppose?” You said sarcastically.

“I never said I was perfect, but I don’t pretend to be.” He said.

Getting fed up with his annoying chitchat you were grateful to have almost reached the Mercedes garage.

“I bet Loverboy is in there, waiting for you.” He said eyeing up the entrance.

“Sure thing.” You said, “Have a wonderful day Christian, always a pleasure chatting with you.”

“Oh the pleasure is all mine,” he said, winking at you as you turned into the garage.

Internally shuddering at the creep you’d just encountered you tried your best to greet the team with a smile and not take Christian’s words to heart. You were of course curious about what he meant by stories of Toto, but equally, you knew how much shit he liked to talk so you were sure he was just trying to get under your skin, or even Toto’s.

– – –

Free Practice had flown by and the team were in good stead for tomorrow’s qualifying. Lewis had put in a staggering lap and spirits were high in the Mercedes camp. Your team had asked if you’d like to join them for cassoulet and wine in the campground but Toto had other plans so you’d politely declined and told a few white lies about US-based sponsor meetings with a time difference.

Instead, you were now wandering along a nearby beach, the Plage de Lioquet, hand in hand with Toto, not another soul in sight.

“This is nice.” You said, snuggling up.

“I know, I needed a break,” Toto said, wrapping his arm around you, hugging you tighter to his firm chest.

“Toto, there’s something that happened earlier that I didn’t tell you about.” You said, hoping now was the right moment to tell him about Christian’s harsh words.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

“When I was walking to the garage earlier, Christian decided to come and walk with me and chat all sorts of shit. He accused me of fucking you and then told me to watch out because apparently, he has stories of you being less than a gentleman.” You blurted out.

Toto’s concern turned to anger, “That piece of shit. Did he say this in front of anyone?”

“No, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. It was very creepy.” You said.

“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow. This is not okay.” He said, “He should know better. He likes to wind me up but it’s not fair to do it via you.”

“Leave it, he just wants to get a rise.” You said, not wanting to drag Toto into it.

“Hmm,” Toto said, his chest vibrating with anger. 

Placing your hand on his heart, you tried to calm him down, “I only told you because I think you should know, but he’s not worth the time or the energy.”

“You’re right,” Toto said. “He is such a windbag.”

You giggled at Toto’s strange turn of phrase, “That he is. Do you want to sit for a bit? We can watch the sunset?”

“Sure,” Toto said, “That part is flat.”

Making your way across the pebbled beach, Toto stopped in the spot he’d gestured at, took off his jacket and laid it out for you both.

“Here,” he said, settling you down in between his long legs, your back flush against his chest.

“Mmm.” You said, leaning back into Toto’s warm embrace, watching as the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon. “This is cool, I feel like we have our own private beach.”

“Oh yeah?” said Toto, his mind clearly wandering along the same route yours was.

“Hmm yeah. And it’s about to get dark.” You said wriggling your bottom nearer to Toto’s crotch.

“That’s true,” he said, his hands starting to explore your torso towards your breasts, giving them a light squeeze through your many layers.

“You’re hot.” He said, grunting slightly as he continued to run his hands around you.

“I’m actually pretty cold.” You said, bursting into a fit of laughter before turning around to kiss him.

As you deepened the kiss, Toto lifted you, moved your leg to one side and swooped you around so that you were now straddling him. Feeling him growing harder underneath you, you were emboldened by the fact that the sun had now really dipped and darkness was starting to fall. Confident you were still very much alone on the beach, you ground down, eliciting a moan from Toto.

“Fuck, Y/N, are we doing this?” His deep voice rumbled, low with lust.

“There’s nobody around.” You said, too horny to turn back.

“Hang on, I have an idea.” Said Toto, leaning back and tearing off his cashmere sweater, flicking it around and draping it around you.

“Is that so the birds don’t see?” You laughed, gesturing at your only company, a few seagulls.

“Well, you never know.” Said Toto, laughing as he started to lift your skirt, his hands creeping up your thighs.

“Fuck, I’m glad I wore a skirt.” You said breathily.

“Me too.” He said, reaching his goal, his long fingers pulling your underwear to one side and starting to explore where you were growing increasingly wet. “Oh, you are horny tonight.”

“Well duh.” You said, your hands skimming his abs to find his belt buckle. 

“Impatient too.” He said smirking, kissing you once again before plunging his finger into your core.

Hitching your breath, you were indeed impatient and scrambled to undo his belt buckle and chino button and let his cock free.

“Fuck,” Toto said, as you found what you were after, gliding your hand up and down it as he pumped his finger into you.

“Indeed.” You said, shifting forward slightly so the heel of his hand bumped up against where you needed it most.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Toto asked, his free hand eagerly sneaking up your shirt and under your bra to cup your bare breast, tweaking your nipple playfully.

“I’ve never been more certain,” you said, leaning forward once again to kiss him as he pulled out his hand to replace it with his now achingly hard cock. He gently lifted you, lining himself up and then pushed down, filling you slowly and agonisingly.

“You okay?” He asked, always considerate.

“Yuh-huh.” Was all you managed, taking a breath as you adjusted. “All good.”

“Mmm,” he said as he started to slowly pump in and out, going for the slow grind today. Your hips buckled as you started to grind back, swirling slowly and tantalisingly.

“Fuck.” He said, “Stop for a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” You said, concerned.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to cum.”

“Ow.” You said, stilling. “Fuck, that feels so good. I love it when you’re inside me.”

At that, you could feel Toto throbbing, a warning sign that you were in the danger zone.

“Fuck, don’t say things like that.” He said, clearly on the edge of his self-control.

“Sorry, but it’s the truth.” You said, accidentally shifting as you shrugged your shoulders, “You okay? We can take a break if you need?”

“No, no, all good,” said Toto, recomposing himself and leaning forward to kiss you once more. “We just need to be careful.”

Smiling at your very considerate lover, you stayed put for a little while, content with sitting on Toto’s cock, letting it stretch you in places you’d never been stretched before as you continued passionately kissing.

Toto then started to gently thrust back up into you, and taking it as a signal that he was okay to start up again, you ground back down to meet his hips once more.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m so sor…” was all Toto managed to get out before he moaned, his cock throbbing, spilling everything into you.

“Fuck.��� You said as Toto panted into your shoulder, still riding the high of his orgasm.

“Scheiße! I am so sorry.” Said Toto, pulling out of you with a squelch.

“It’s okay, these things happen.” You said, secretly panicking beyond belief. You always tracked your period and knew that this week was dangerous. You’d been careful so far but hadn’t come prepared for this and had allowed yourself to get carried away. Toto looked devastated and you weren’t about to scare him further so tried to calm him down, grabbing his chin and tilting his face towards yours, “Don’t worry, I can try and get a morning-after pill tomorrow, just to be safe.”

“Fuck,” was all he could continue to blurt out, “I don’t want you having to do that, you’re busy enough tomorrow. Shall we go now?”

“Toto, this is rural France. Do you really think somewhere will sell it to us at ten o’clock at night?”

“Maybe?” Toto said hopefully. “Although I’m old, maybe we are panicking for nothing.”

“Oh shut up with the old thing again!” You said, “It’s better to be safe than sorry, I’ll go early tomorrow.”

“Well okay, I’ll drive you.”

“And that won’t look suspicious?”

“How will you get there? They’ll hardly have it at the Circuit.” Toto said, his steely Team Principal mask back on as you climbed off of his lap, feeling everything dripping down your thigh.

“Can I borrow the car?”

“I’d rather drive you.” Toto paused, “Or I will drive and get it for you? No one will question me.”

“Maybe that’s the wisest choice. Fuck Toto, I’m so sorry.” You said, rearranging your skirt and settling beside him.

“Don’t say that, it’s my fault.” He said. “You drive me crazy Y/N.”

Smiling sympathetically you replied, “Likewise.”

Almost pitch black, you could just about make out Toto gazing at you in the darkness beside you. He took your hand in his suddenly before blurting out, “I love you.”

Floored by his words, you replied with the truth, “I love you too.”

[racinggirl]

redemption || pierre gasly 10

type: one shot pairing: pierre gasly x reader word count: 4k (sorry not sorry) summary: having that one important thing, which means a lot to you. But will Pierre be able to be there? Or will he have to make it up to you? requested: yes! “Can you do one with Pierre where he fucks up and then makes it up to y/n?” (by anon) Requests are OPEN!!! warnings: angst, language!, disappointment, sad, fluffy ending notes: I had a blast writing this. It took a little longer, but I wasn't feeling too well. Thankfully I'm feeling good enough to write again, yayayay!! Don't worry, the story has a happy ending, otherwise it wouldn't be a story of mine :) I hope you'll enjoy it, have fun and please let me know what you think about my writingstyle in the comments or my askbox, tips/tops are very much appreciated

my masterlist

Contract elongation or not, the moment news spread about Sergio Perez staying with RedBull Racing for at least 2023, possibly even more years, created quite a bit of stress for the France Formula One driver, currently driving in RedBull’s ‘rookie’ team, Alpha Tauri. Stress, that might have affected his behaviour a little more than he anticipated, and wanted.

Pierre Gasly, twenty-six years old, a talented driver on the grid who previously was a second driver for RedBull but was set back to their rookie team Alpha Tauri after Alexander Albon replaced the Frenchman back in 2019. His dream? Become a Formula One world champion, preferably at RedBull.

However, when he heard the news about Checo signing his new contract that stated he’d stay at RedBull in 2023, he got stressed, mostly because his contract at Alpha Tauri would be ending this year. So, as a result of that, he was busy, not just in the racing weeks, but also in the remaining weeks he and you would normally spend together.

You and Pierre, the perfect couple, the most loved couple in the paddock. Fans loved seeing the two of you together, the reason for it? You weren’t a model, a singer, actress or even well known in the world. You were just you, a casual girl, finishing up your college and getting ready for the big world, trying to find a job, one you enjoyed and would see yourself work in for the next decades. And people loved it, watching you and Pierre, a famous Formula One driver with connections all over the world, money that would buy him everything he wants, and you, his girlfriend, nothing more, nothing less. Just the guy Pierre loved more than anything in this world.

‘’Baby?’’ You had been trying to get into contact with your boyfriend for the last 15 minutes, asking him whether or not he’d come to your graduation, which was on a Friday, a race-free-week-Friday. You knew he was stressed, or at least busy, talking to his manager, his entire team, Alpha Tauri, RedBull, even McLaren and Alpine, but you also needed the attention, especially since your graduation was one of the most exciting and important things in your life, aside from Pierre’s races.

‘’Pierre!’’ You furrowed your eyebrows, standing up from the relaxing chair you were just seated in, to walk over to your boyfriend, who was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

‘’What?’’ He looked up from his phone, a sigh leaving his lips as he saw your upset face. ‘’I’m sorry mon ange, I was just texting my manager.’’ Of course, he always was texting his manager. You weren’t mad, no, because you knew how much stress finding a new team, in time, could be, and you didn’t want to distract him from getting a good deal.

‘’I was asking if you saved the date, for my graduation.’’ You sent your boyfriend a nice smile whilst you went over to him, taking a seat on his left side, one hand resting on his knee, which you squeezed lightly.

He smiled back, placing his phone on the side of the couch just to pull you in his arms, the place you belonged according to him. ‘’Of course darling.’’ He whispered against your right temple, his lips feeling as soft as always as he kissed the side of your head. ‘’June 20th, right?’’ You nodded in response, your eyes closing as you relaxed in his arms. ‘’Yep.’’

However, the cuddles didn’t last long, just half an hour of you time for the both of you, before he got up from the couch, ready to go to another meeting with McLaren. He had to keep his options open, which meant every team that reached out for him, would be pleased with at least one meeting with the French driver. McLaren was lucky enough to have multiple.

Some days passed, and things started to get a little more comfortable at home, Pierre not being as busy with his meetings meant more time to spend together, time you cherished more than ever, because you knew that once you got accepted into the job, it would mean the two of you wouldn’t be able to see each other for weeks. That wasn’t something you weren’t used to though, being a student meant going to university, and not races.

You were laying on the balcony the sun kissing your already tanned skin as you listened to the music you were blasting through your earphones. Milan, one of the most beautiful places here in Italy, the busy centrum, the calm parks and the sun, which was shining brightly this afternoon. Pierre wasn’t here, he was at the factory, probably in the simulator, having meetings or doing more Formula One related stuff.

You opened your eyes when your phone rang, a smile plastered across your face as you saw the name. You answered almost immediately after sitting up straight, placing the sunglasses on your nose as you accepted the facetime call.

‘’Mom! Dad! Hey!’’ You threw them a wave from the other side of the phone, receiving a wave back from your mother, and a ‘hello’ from your father.

‘’Hello sweety, how are you doing?’’  

‘’I’m good! Enjoying the sun here.’’ You smiled, turning the camera on your phone to reveal the view you had from Pierre’s balcony. The beautiful park on the left, some buildings on the right, and a beautiful lake in the middle, ducks and swans cooling themselves down in the water, as well as some dogs chasing them.

You turned your phone camera back to face you, the same smile still on your face. You were one lucky girl.

‘’Oh my, that looks absolutely beautiful.’’ Your mother nudged your father who agreed with what she had just said. ‘’Isn’t Pierre home?’’ Your father asked, leaning a little closer, maybe a little too close because all you were seeing was the side of his head.

You smiled at your parents and shook your head. ‘’No, he’s at the factory.’’ You smiled kindly, biting your lip. You missed him, for sure, but it wasn’t the end of the world, you’d see him tonight.

‘’Had he got an offer yet?’’ Your father got along great with your boyfriend, him being a motorsports fan, and your boyfriend being a Formula One driver seemed like the perfect match, and it was. Every time your father would visit you and Pierre at his place, or Pierre would come to your place, since you partly lived with your parents, and partly with your boyfriend, you had to separate the two along with your mom. They always told each other everything, your father giving Pierre – according to him – amazing tips, and Pierre just laughed and took mental notes. Another thing you loved about him, his respect and kindness he had towards not just your parents, but to everyone around him. Even though Pierre knew more than probably all of them combined about the sport, he’d always gladly accept the tips he’d get, even though he probably already knew every single one of them.

‘’Yeah, he has, I believe so.’’ You said, reaching for the glass of lemon water standing on the table next to you. ‘’Alpha Tauri wants him for another year, but you can’t tell anyone yet, okay? It’s not public yet.’’ You said seriously as you sipped from the straw. Your father immediately nodded, and smiled, loving the fact you always told him everything, loving the fact you trusted him enough to tell him those highly secret and important plans.

‘’Oh, I think he’s home?’’ You frowned, turning your head to look through the glass door that connected the balcony to the living room of Pierre’s apartment. He usually never was home this early, so you assumed that it either was good, or bad. You saw him, and it for sure was the latter. You rose your phone in the air, letting your parents see nothing but the sky, because you didn’t want them to see Pierre’s face, which didn’t speak happiness or fairy tales at the moment. ‘Mom and dad’ you mouthed, hoping your boyfriend would get the hint, and he did, because he took a deep breath, a somewhat fake but realistic smile on his face as he opened the glass door to greet your parents.

‘’Hello Sandra, hello Paul.’’ You turned your phone so your parents could see your boyfriend and you moved to the side a little, creating space so Pierre could join you on the bed. Your hand moved to his, holding it, squeezing it and drawing small circles on the back of his hand while he took a hold of your phone with the other. A sigh escaping your boyfriends lips gave you the reassurance you needed, he loved what you were doing right now, calming him, not immediately asking what was wrong, but giving him the time.

After what seemed like 5 minutes, but was actually 20 minutes, Pierre ended the facetime call with your parents, handing you your phone back before resting his head against your shoulder, another sigh escaping his lips. You stayed like this, for a good 5 minutes before it got too hot and the both of you decided to go inside. You closed the curtains behind you, to prevent the heat coming into the building, and you watched as your boyfriend let himself fall down on the couch.

‘’Wanna talk about it, baby?’’ You asked carefully, following him to the couch and sitting on the armrest of it, bare feet on the seating area of the couch.

He nodded, adjusting himself on the couch as he rested his head on your knees, looking up at you. ‘’I can’t come to your graduation.’’ He sighed, knowing you’d be upset, and you had every right to be, it was the one thing you wanted him to attend, one of the most important things to you.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment to calm yourself, maybe he had a reason he couldn’t come, a legitimate reason. ‘’Why not?’’ You almost whispered, both a little mad, upset, and confused.

-

‘’Can’t you just, tell them to reschedule it? It’s my graduation Pierre!’’ You stood straight, hands intertwined as you looked at your boyfriend who was still seated on the couch. He had a dinner, here, in Italy, with Alpha Tauri.

‘’Look, love, I understand it’s your graduation, okay? But this is for my contract, we need to keep the sponsors happy and-‘’

‘’I don’t care.’’ You said, reaching your breaking point. ‘’Every damn day the most important thing has been your contract. Alpha Tauri, McLaren, RedBull, that’s all you talk about. And I understand it’s stressing, but can you at least clear one day, just one day, for me?’’ Small tears were appearing in your eyes, your worst nightmare coming true. You always knew being a Formula One drivers girlfriend would mean long distance, little to no time spent together, and doing things on your own. However, you hoped that he’d at least be able to come to your graduation, which meant so much to you.

‘’You don’t know how important this dinner is, y/n!’’

‘’It’s next week, Pierre, you could have told them to reschedule it because you have known for weeks, maybe even months, that next Wednesday is my graduation!’’

‘’You never told me it was Wednesday!’’ He stated, making you raise your eyebrow.

‘’What’s next Wednesday’s date?’’ You were getting mad, because you had definitely told him the date.

Pierre groaned, grabbing his phone to check the date and counted in his head. After a few seconds of thinking, he looked back into your eyes. ‘’June 20th.’’ He said.

‘’Great, do I have to remind you of the conversation we had some days ago?’’ You asked, arms crossed in front of your chest at this point.

‘’Well, I can too forget things, y/n, sorry!’’ He stated, getting up from the couch as well because he couldn’t stand sitting down, you looking down at him.

‘’Forget, ‘things’?’’ You asked, your madness turning into hurt at this point. ‘’You just simply forgot your girlfriend is finally graduation after 4 years?!’’

‘’Baby, I didn’t mean that…’’

‘’Oh, I am pretty sure you did.’’ You sighed, watching as Pierre took some steps closer to you, attempting to pull you in for a hug. ‘’No, Pierre!’’ You stepped back, wiping a single tear that was falling from your cheek.

‘’Oh come on y/n, don’t be so fucking dramatic now! I apologized, okay? What else do you need from me so you’ll be able to forgive me?’’ Pierre didn’t mean all of this, obviously. He was one of the sweetest, kind and respectful guys you’d ever meet, but the stress he had been coping with at work had taken its toll on those lovely characteristics of the Frenchman.

‘’For you to be there in England when I take that bloody paper!’’ You took one more attempt to convince him to reschedule the meeting, because you needed him there, to cheer for you when you took a hold of that paper, just like you cheered for him whenever he had a marvellous race.  

‘’Well, I can’t, it’s scheduled, I’ll fly over the next day to take you out for dinner, okay?’’

You simply shook your head, not believing those words came out of your boyfriends mouth. The man that used to do everything for you, fly in between races to your house, just to surprise you with flowers he picked up from the local flower boutique in your town, had changed, and you hated it.

‘’You know what? Forget it, go to your stupid dinner, prioritize that fucking dinner over me, it’s fine. Lately I’ve been getting used to become second anyways.’’ And with that, you left, ignoring Pierre calling your name, knowing he completely messed everything up.

-

The next day you were already on a plane, heading to England to your parents house, not wanting to spend one more day with your boyfriend. You needed space, time, and support right now, things he couldn’t give at the moment. It hurt, because you still loved him, and he still loved you, but right now it was for the best.

Your parents, however, were very understanding. You wasn’t sure you made the right decision, but after talking to them for hours upon hours, you were confident you did make the right decision. Sure, you couldn’t expect him to have you as his number 1 priority at all times, but you could expect him to at least think about it, try to be able to attend your graduation, as it was something you worked your ass off for, for over 4 years.

-

Graduation day. You were dressed into a nice cobalt blue dress, topping it off with the traditional black coat and hat, your hair nicely curled, make up on point. You looked stunning, beyond beautiful really.

‘’y/n! Oh my goodness, you look absolutely amazing, like a queen!’’ Stacy, your best friend in and out of university ran towards you.

‘’Wait till you see the dress I’m wearing.’’ You joked, hugging your best friend tightly. ‘’Come on, let’s go see my boyfriend.’’ You were dragged along, Stacy being way too excited because you had never actually met her boyfriend, since you had been traveling with Pierre for those last couple of weeks. The guy was kind, tall, typical Brit really, and you found it adorable, because it reminded you of the stage you and Pierre were in years ago, a new couple, madly in love with one another.

‘’Hey, speaking of, where’s Pierre?’’ Stacy interrupted your thoughts, and you just let out a sigh. ‘’Couldn’t make it, work.’’ You mumbled, not really feeling the need to talk about why your boyfriend wasn’t here. You wanted it to be a happy day, one to remember for in the books, and you didn’t want it to be ruined by the fact your boyfriend didn’t find you important enough to come to your graduation.

‘’Oh, well, I understand, he’s a Formula One driver after all.’’ Stacy smirked, wiggling her eyebrows a few times which made you laugh in agony. Stacy was happy when you announced your relationship to her, and wanting to meet the guy, she immediately asked you to arrange a double date with her – now called – ex boyfriend, something which was quite hard seeing you did not want people to know about you dating a famous Formula One driver straight away. You created the perfect double date setup in your parents backyard, since in that way nobody could see you, and nobody would suspect a thing, you and Pierre hadn’t announced your relationship to the world yet at that point. So the moment Stacy figured out he was actually Pierre Gasly, you had to beg her to not tell anyone, which was a task on its own.

Now, almost 5 years later, she always managed to tell people you were dating Pierre Gasly before you had even met them. You didn’t mind, Stacy was just excited because you deserved to be happy, which you were with Pierre, and being a motorsports lover didn’t really help with keeping it low profile either.

After some talking with Stacy and her new boyfriend, it was time to take place on the seats, ready to take your paper and finally move onto the next chapter in your life, find a job you enjoy, and make money. You turned around to have one more look into the audience, sitting up straight when you saw a figure in the back, a figure that looked really familiar. But as soon as he stepped forward, into the lights, you sighed. It wasn’t Pierre, just someone that looked similar, but it wasn’t him. That’s the moment you gave up hope. Of course you still had hope, maybe he had changed his mind and decided your graduation would be slightly more important than a dinner with his sponsors, but sadly, that wasn’t the case.

‘’Y/n Y/l/n!’’ People were cheering, clapping and you looked over at Stacy before getting up, a smile on your face, a proud smile. You made your way to the podium, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you felt the black cold pen reaching your hands. You signed your diploma, a smile from ear to ear when you placed the pen back on the table. You shook hands, and held the paper next to you when you stood next to your teacher for the photo.

-

‘’Okay, photo time!’’ Your parents stood on either side of you, Stacy taking the picture. ‘’Now a crazy one, because we’re done with this fucked up school!’’ Stacy laughed and you immediately looked over at your parents who were shocked by her statement.

‘’Stace!’’ You laughed, shaking your head as your parents decided to join your laughter, pulling a weird face as you did the same.

‘’Okay, I think that’s it.’’ You smiled, looking at Stacy. You had taken more than enough pictures with your friend, as well as some pictures with your parents. ‘’We have all the pictures we need.’’ You smiled, weakly, because you knew you missed one person here.

‘’No, we don’t have them all yet.’’ You turned around, because you recognized that voice from miles away.

‘’Pierre?’’ You were surprised, he had the dinner, with his sponsors, right? How could he be here now? Pierre noticed you were confused, because you hadn’t said anything but his name the moment you saw him, your facial expression like you had just seen one of the most confusing things in the world, and your body frozen in place.

‘’We need a picture.’’ He simply smiled, holding his hand out for yours to take. He looked amazing, in suit, his hair nicely done, glowing skin, and you hadn’t even started about the cologne he was wearing, or the way his breath was soft and minty. You accepted his hand, slowly stepping towards him as you wrapped your arms around him, tightly, almost scared of letting him go.

‘’I thought you-‘’ But he cut you off. ‘’Shh.. don’t think about that now, okay? This is your happy day, your graduation, and I am so, so proud of you, okay?’’ He whispered close to your ear, pressing kisses to your cheek. ‘’I have been an idiot, and I am sorry for that, I hope you can forgive me.’’

You looked at him, a smile on your face as your eyes were filled with tears. Of course you would forgive him, he was here now, he came to your graduation. ‘’Were you here the entire time?’’

He nodded. ‘’I saw you getting up there, signing that paper of yours. I could even see that beautiful smile of yours when you were standing next to Mr. Johnson.’’ He smiled. ‘’Or when you were seated and turned around, were you looking for me?’’ He asks carefully, taking a hold of your hands.

You nodded in response, smiling weakly as you looked down at your hands. ‘’I was, yeah, I just, hoped you’d come, I still had hope.’’ You admitted, looking up into his beautiful eyes who had a sparkle inside of them, the sparkle you had missed so hard when he was busy with his work.

‘’Come on, take that coat off, I want to see that amazing dress!’’ Stacy cheered, interrupting the two of you. You simply laughed, turning around so you could easily take the coat off, along with the hat and you heard Stacy whistle. ‘’Damn girl! Hot!’’ She laughed.

You turned around again to face Pierre, and that’s when your heart skipped a beat. He was there, down on one knee, a box in his hand as he looked up at you with the sweetest but yet most nervous smile ever.

‘’Pierre…’’ You whispered, hands covering your mouth as you gasped.

‘’I’m sorry for being such an idiot lately. I wanted everything to be perfect. I was so stressed, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I-I was planning this, and the whole work thing messed it all up. I wanted to surprise you, and when they told me the dinner would be tonight, I honestly tried to reschedule it but they didn’t let me.’’ He started, still seated on one knee. ‘’After our talk, last week, I knew that I had to do it. I had to call my manager and tell him I wouldn’t be at the dinner, because there was something on my to do list that was much more important than that stupid dinner.’’ He smiles, quoting your words about the stupid dinner. ‘’When you left that day, I immediately contacted your parents, asking for their permission, and I explained everything to them. I just hoped they would say yes because I already bought the ring and all… But, I want you to know that you are my number one priority, and you always will be, because I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I need you, because I’m lost without you, and I can’t say it enough, I’ll never get tired of saying it, y/n. I love you, so much it hurts, so please, don’t make me the happiest boyfriend, but the happiest man, and marry me.’’

You were amazed by his words, and didn’t even notice the tears running down your cheeks, or the phone camera’s pointed towards you, all you saw was him, your boyfriend, down on his knee for you, to ask you to marry him.

‘’Of course I’ll marry you, Pierre.’’ You nodded, receiving a deep sigh as response from the French driver in front of you, followed by a wide smile. He got up, grabbed your hand and delicately slid the ring around your finger, cupping your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours, lovingly, not wanting to be separated from you ever again.

‘’Je t’aime, mon chérie.’’

‘’Je t’aime aussi, bébé.’’

((Repost because Tumblr hated me yay)

[formulalfc]

ooh another ibou request! something about dancing with him… we know he likes afrobeats and i feel like he’d be with someone that also likes dancing, im thinking them at a party in the middle of the circle but also at home doing tiktok dances and getting mad when the other person doesn’t get the coreo right lmaao

help i love this so much

you guys are the first ones on the dance floor at any party, your bodies in sync with each other as you dance to whatever is playing. dancing was one of the things that you two bonded over and you often find yourselves dancing in the kitchen with each other when you're making dinner. finding time to record stupid TikTok dances together, both of you getting mad when the other messes up. and of course, your dance videos go viral, fans of Liverpool and France going crazy over their defender's dance moves. feel like you're also the kind of couple that takes just dance very seriously, whoever gets more points gets head ;) you're both sweating after your dance-offs from putting 100% effort in. whenever you guys go out clubbing it's straight to the dancefloor, ibou pressed up against your back as you swivel your hips to the music. when there's music playing you can bet all your money that somewhere you and ibou are dancing.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

[catchyhuh]

LUP AND LANGUAGE!!

just our special guy today because i’ve realized i have very complex thoughts about my main man’s polyglotism and the way i see it utilized in canon and in fan work from time to time. i will be rambling, i will be going off target, this is a promise SO LET'S GO!

so baseline, lupin was bilingual from almost birth, with the whole mixed upbringing and all. so we know that, from the start. french dad, japanese mom, you-- i mean it would be jarring to somehow not know a lick of either. I MEAN THEY GOTTA TALK TO THE BABY SOMEHOW

when he was about 4, the Horrors began. you can’t be much of an international thief only speaking two languages that are… really only primarily spoken in their countries of origin (canadian french is very different you know) so they started piling on more: spanish, italian, english, german, they tried cantonese too, but he had so much trouble with the tones that they dialed it down to mandarin, and he… still had trouble with the tones, because even as an adult that’s a LOT of voice control that he tends to lose when he’s overly happy or upset. so yeah it was hard for a FOUR year old to manage it

it’s kind of funny though; the first language he could really speak was japanese, and the language he usually defaults to, the language he THINKS in, is STILL japanese. all those language courses just for him to stick to ol’ reliable

however, certain words pop up in french first for him; usually numbers. by the time he was learning to count, his dad was more adamant about him speaking french more, so numbers (and colors) register as french in his head before he runs them through a little translator in his head and goes “TWENTY” at top volume. if somebody is describing a math problem to him in japanese, even though he’s most comfortable IN that language, he has to redo the whole thing in his head in french to really get his answer. yes, it’s miserable for him

the language he speaks SECOND most often is usually english, but more for a comedic beat than anything. ironically, lupin uses english the way some english speakers use french, in a way to be goofy and overdramatic about mundane shit. but also if you buy into the “jigen was born in america” thing then it just makes even MORE sense he’d be speaking it semi-often

the thing about his french is that while it’s still deeply ingrained into him, he… very rarely sees it come up in interactions. even when IN france, he sort of subconsciously removes his personal connection to it out of the picture. it’s like speaking portuguese in brazil, or speaking russian in, uh, russia. more of a needed skill than a part of HIM, really. in order to truly unlock his French Mode, he’d need to be around someone speaking french OUTSIDE of france, because, weird as it may sound, that’s just how he’s connected to it. and then he’d talk to them for a bit, start slipping into it naturally, and he might accidentally lock himself into it for an hour or so after they’re done talking. this is really the only kind of instance that gets him to slip up around any of the other four, because in his mind, why would he be speaking in french when he knows he can better communicate with the sorry bastard in front of him in another language?

i leave you with one final note to a question you could maybe be having idk: so, how many languages CAN lupin speak? and the answer to that is uh. i don’t know. many. whatever is plot relevant. are we like counting piglatin too or

[cbraxs]

Warped [Time Warp Trio Fanfiction] - Chapter 17

The Palace of Versailles was beyond magnificent. It was a nearly ninety million (yes, million) square feet estate covered in gardens, winding walkways, and topiary, with the main attraction the palace itself, a towering presence of marble white and cream that glowed in the night brighter than the hundreds of candles lighting up the night.

The soft winter breeze carried the fragrance of flowers through the night air. The din of excitable chatter nearly drowned out the airy sounds of several flutes, harpsichords, and violas.

It would have left Anthony breathless… if he had been there on holiday.

He imagined Isadora would’ve adored the palace, trying to capture every pond, fountain, garden, and tree to recreate later in her artwork. She’d ask a dozen questions and inexplicably have a dozen more answers. She’d love it so much she’d beg to stay for just a few more minutes and, of course, Anthony would give in.

He sighed and placed his mask on his face. He couldn’t afford to get distracted with thoughts of his daughter, not when he was purposely heading into a trap. He had to be alert. Focused.

Anthony was glad he warped close to the entrance, and even happier he was hidden behind a large yew tree. The estate was positively crowded with hundreds of gilded carriages and thousands of guests dressed to the teeth made their way inside. Women dressed in big baroque dresses decked with ribbons and bows. Meanwhile the men looked almost as extravagant, wearing every color under the sun. Many of them wore masks similar to Anthony’s, allowing them to enter without invitation.

With a snap of his fingers, his outfit changed to match that of the aristocratic party guests. Green mist shimmered around his form and when it vanished he wore a green frock made of silk and velvet with gold embellishments. White breeches, black boots, and a jabot-- fluffy white neckwear-- completed the look, and with his green and gold domino mask, he blended in with the crowd.

Anthony recognized when and where he was: The Yew Ball. The celebration of the marriage between the Dauphin of France, Louis Ferdinand de France, the son of King Louis the XV, and the Infanta of Spain, Maria Teresa Rafaela. Many of the guests were looking for the king for even a simple glimpse of His Majesty, but Anthony had a different target he was hunting down.

Mad Jack had to be here. Even if this were a trap (and it absolutely was) and he did not need to be there, he’d still be here. The man couldn’t help himself. He had this deep psychological urge to gloat even at the cost of his goals. It was infuriating but could work to Anthony’s advantage.

The Warp Wizard made his way through crowded courtyards, making polite and short conversations to not stand out. His eyes scanned every masked face and accessed everybody for a familiar lanky build, but there was no sign of Jack.

Past fountains and Roman-styled statues, he came across the ballroom, a wide open space situated outside surrounded by fountains and beautifully shaped hedges. Couples waltzed along to the lovely music while others socialized on the sidelines. Anthony scanned the dance floor when he saw “her.”

Across the dance floor was a woman with an oversized white powdered wig and an unbelievably big and bright green dress. She stood out like a broken arm.

Anthony ignored his years of training to blend in and go unnoticed. He stormed across the ballroom to reach her, blind to the strange looks from the other guests. As if sensing Anthony’s presence, the bearer of the bad wig turned around, a wicked grin under his mustache and a mean gleam behind a monocle.

“I’ll be damned.” Mad Jack snapped his fan shut with a dramatic flourish. “Look who the cat dragged in. It’s Anthony the Steadfast.”

“You look ridiculous.”

Jack laughed, like anything in this situation was funny. “Is that any way to talk to a lady?”

“Don’t play games. Why did you bring me here?”

He had the nerve to tut-tut-tut at him, waggling his finger like a disappointed guidance counselor. “So impatient. Why don’t you ask me to dance first?”

Anthony could arrest him now. Send him to Em and be done. But he needed answers and playing along with this silly game might be the only way he might ever understand what this nutter was up to.

He held out his hand and grimaced when Jack placed his gloved hand in his. The two of them glided to the dance floor, falling into the practiced waltz they’ve done a dozen times back in their academy days.

“You’re looking well,” Jack said.

Anthony snorted. “Like you ever cared for my well-being.”

“You got me there. Never could stand your meatheadedness.”

He’s been called much worse. As Anthony rolled his eyes, he caught a glimpse of something resting against Jack’s collarbone. It was a necklace of pure gold, two bands coiled around each other like serpents.

The madman noticed what Anthony was looking at and smiled. “Lovely, is it not? A perfect copy of the Necklace of Harmonia. I took it off the hands of a witch who was squandering its power.”

Jack was a thief. That was nothing new, he always had sticky fingers even when they were young. At first, it was endearing, but then he started taking historical artifacts. Important items that always got him in trouble, and for what?

“What do you want, Jack?”

“What do I want? As if anyone has ever given a flying fury about what I wanted. If they had then we wouldn't be here now, would we?”

Anthony could never comprehend the sheer entitlement of this manbaby. Ever since they met, it was all about what the universe owed to him, what he deserved. Like a disease, it’s only gotten worse with age.

“I suppose,” he mused, “that’s not entirely true. Dulari cared, once. That is before you and my simpleton of a brother corrupted her with your utter incompetence and softness.”

“You do not get to talk about her that way! Not after the way you treated her.”

“She didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do.”

Anthony stopped dead midstep. His jaw was tight. He clenched Jack’s hands in a death grip with his, and he briefly imagined them around his neck.

Jack’s smirk widened. “Uh-uh-uh. Remember the Academy’s golden rule: Don’t cause a scene~”

Anthony dropped Jack’s hands and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to fight you. That gets us nowhere. Just tell me what you want with Isadora.”

“What makes you think I want—”

“For once in your life tell me the truth! I know what you’re up to, so why don’t you just admit it.”

A bluff. He still had no clue what the maniac was up to, but he hoped this would catch him off guard.

Apparently, it worked. Jack’s playful features morphed into shock before he quickly reclaimed his demeanor. “What does it matter? With those little earrings, I can’t get near her, anyway. Sounds like you’ve already solved the problem.”

Anthony’s heart skipped. Time slowed around them. “You’ve been around her?”

“I’ve had some run-ins, nothing you need to worry your empty little head about. But I must say, you ought to be ashamed. You stifled Isadora’s potential, fed her with half-truths and lies. She’s weak, nowhere near as powerful as Dulari, but for my purposes, she’s the best bet. If she doesn’t survive the process, then it’s no fault of mine, now is it?”

A chill swept through the ball. The horror of what he said hit Anthony like a crashing wave. Rage took hold of Anthony. In a blink, his fist, glowing green with magic, slammed into Jack’s face. The man flew past the dance floor, past hedges and shrieking guests, crashing through a gilded window.

Anthony summoned his wand. With a wave, he vanished and reappeared near where his fist carried Jack off to: The Hall of Mirrors.

He yelled for the few remaining guests to flee, and thankfully they listened. Hundreds of people poured out of the hall past statues and mirrors until the two of them were left alone.

He pointed his wand at Jack and raised him above the rubble and glass. The wig disappeared in the flight. His dress was in tatters revealing his suit underneath because of course, he was wearing his suit under the dress.

Manic laughter erupted from Jack’s upturned lips, speckled with red.

The blood in Antony’s veins boiled. “She is not your damned battery!”

Jack shot his hand forward. Anthony dodged out of the way of the cane sword that whizzed by, the tip barely slicing through the sleeve of his suit and grazing his arm. He winced in pain, dropping Jack in the process. Jack landed with a crouch and shot a bolt of magic at the chandelier overhead. Crystal shards as sharp as daggers plummeted down over Anthony. He would have been skewered if he hadn’t jumped out of the way, skidding ungracefully in shoes not meant for combat.

The chandelier exploded in a plume of shredded crystals. Quartz shrapnel splintered in every direction. Anthony whipped his wand like a lasso and caught the crystals overhead, hurling them back at Jack. He dodged; hardwood and dirt erupted where he once stood. He vanished in the cloud of debris.

Fire from the candles spread throughout the room, coating the room in red and orange light. Air burned in Anthony’s lungs. The flames reached high above them, licking at the marble walls and painted ceiling.

Anthony wiped at the beads of sweat forming on his brow. Cautiously, he approached where Jack lay, a pair of magic-proof handcuffs appearing in his hands in a flash of green.

“I’m finally taking you in, Mad Jack. Under Em’s authority, you are—“

Sharp pain flared from his shoulder blade. The fez-wearing man from the diner stood behind him, pulling the blade from his back, a wicked grin under lifeless eyes.

Another stab at Anthony’s side brought him to his knees. His vision doubled and blurred. He struggled to keep balance on his knees. Poison, he thought groggily. The blade was poisoned. The warmth of blood bloomed from his wounds soaking his clothes and staining the floor.

From the dust clouds, Jack emerged. Hate radiated throughout his body. He stalked towards his fallen ex-friend brandishing his sword.

“Finally, I can be rid of at least one thorn in my side.” He raised his sword, primed to rend Anthony’s head from his body weakened. “But fear not, old friend. Isadora will be in capable hands, at last.”

He swung. But the blade never touched his neck.

A flash of green as bright as the sun slammed Jack like a freight train. A blur of purple rushed past, but Anthony didn’t have the strength to follow it. His magic fizzled in and out as he tried miserably to heal his wounds. Behind him, Jack and a familiar voice shouted back and forth. Swords clashed and magic blazed. A flash of golden light seized the room, then… nothing. Silence. He couldn’t distinguish the roar of the fire and his blood rushing through his ears.

A moment passed before the sounds of footsteps quickly approached from behind. Anthony tensed.

“Anthony! Oh, dear. You’re hurt! Can you move?”

“… Joe?”

Joe the Magnificent stood before him. His purple suit was torn and his mustache was smoldering. Joe tried to help him stand, stopping when Anthony grunted in pain and nearly collapsed.

Joe frowned and fished out his pocket watch from his breast pocket. “Please hold on, my friend!”

Somewhere between bleeding out and warping, Anthony passed out, his thoughts on his daughter, her sweet face clear in his mind as everything else faded away.

[weeniedogjrs]

Ride the Cyclone but with higher stakes

A big part of what makes the death of the St. Cassian kids so heartbreaking is that they’re kids.  All of their songs are essentially about what they wanted to be when they grew up, or the potential that they had.

But what if we made their jellicle choice even harder?  What if they were all young adults when the accident happened?  Maybe they had already started to achieve things in life, and had an impact on the world.  Let’s say they were at the carnival as a high school reunion.

Ocean: The mayor of Uranium.  Her constituents love her go-getter attitude and what she’d done for the town.  She still had her “holier than thou” mindset, though, which was a big source of conflict for her fellow politicians.  A huge scandal happened in Uranium politics recently, and if she couldn’t come back to life to prove her innocence, she would die a disappointment to her town.

Noel: He moved to France less than a year ago.  He still wasn’t quite the Monique Gibeau he wanted to be, but he felt like he was getting close.  He was far from a virgin and hadn’t thought about Taco Bell since he got on the airplane.  He met the most beautiful, enchanting Frenchman he’d ever seen... But never even got his name.  He was so close to having it all.

Mischa: He returned to Ukraine and finally held Talia in his arms.  His music career was wonderfully successful.  They lived a happy life surrounded by friends, and were to be married exactly one month after the reunion.

Ricky: A critically acclaimed comic book writer/artist.  His sexy cat woman-filled world of Zolar was considered niche due to its adult content, but his fans were extremely loyal and dedicated.  He had just published an installment ending on a massive cliffhanger.

Jane Doe: Her predicament is roughly the same, but she was a mother.  Nobody knows this in the afterlife, of course, but she has an unrelenting inkling in her mind that her doll isn’t actually hers.  She bounces between being a nurturing, motherly figure, and a frightened child.

Constance: She and Ocean had a horrible fight and cut ties with one another entirely.  She practically got into her car after the ceremony and drove straight out of Uranium.  After some time away, her hatred for her home and parents’ business started to subside.  She begrudgingly came back for the reunion, but surprised herself by reconciling with her parents and even considered taking over the business in the future.  She found herself sitting next to Ocean on The Cyclone.  They didn’t say anything; they just held hands as the train went up the hill.

[spacedreamerz]

Trent Northwick Headcanons!

Trent is a very talented actor.

 Trent goes to acting camp every summer. He really enjoys it.

He gets cast in the main roles almost all the time. He’s usually the main antagonist. Apparently, he plays evil roles very well. 

Trent considers himself an intellectual fine artist. 

 One of his dreams is to go to France. He can actually speak French well. 

 Trent loves watching anime and reading manga. He’s constantly hogging the TV watching Toonami at night. 

Some of his favorite anime are Cowboy Bebop, Samurai Champloo, and Bleach.

Some of his fav manga are Death Note, Sun-Ken Rock, and Naruto. 

 Nobody can beat Trent at DDR.

He’s also a beast at rhythm games.

He really likes photography. The main reason he got into it was to have an excuse to take pictures of girls, but it soon turned into a genuine hobby of his.

He totally cried while watching the Titanic.

Trent enjoys poetry. He can actually make some good poems.

He’s obsessed with musicals and plays. That’s one of the main things he geeks out about when talking to friends.

He totally vibes to boy band songs. (Not that any of his friends know that)

Trent has a pretty good singing voice. He’s thinking about hiring a vocal coach still.

Trent’s ultimate goal is being on the big screen. Starring in actual movie roles.

Leonardo Dicaprio is a big inspiration for Trent. 

He really wants to write a play himself. He has a lot of good ideas. He’ll be the lead role, of course.

Trent got into acting and theater because of his mother. She was a makeup and special effects artist for a lot of plays when he was younger. When there was no one to babysit, she’d drag Trent with her on set. He loved the atmosphere and he loved seeing the plays. 

Trent’s actually a pretty good leader. A bit of a selfish one, but good nonetheless.

Trent is a big soccer and hockey fan. He and his dad went to games all the time.

Trent is very good at origami. 

He likes going to museums.

Trent is obsessed with collecting seashells. He just thinks they’re so pretty.

Trent started acting when he was around 9. He told his mom multiple times how much he’d love to be an actor in a play or some type of movie. So she started looking for acting gigs for her son. She found an ad in the newspaper saying they could use a child actor for a commercial. She asked Trent what he thought about it, and he eagerly accepted the chance. He ended up doing really good in that commercial and his mom signed him to a lot more commercials.

He does really well in English.

Trent is terrified of snakes, spiders, and needles.

Trent likes taking care of house plants. He has a money tree plant named Jennifer (he calls her Jenny). She was named after Jennifer Lopez. One of Trent’s many celebrity crushes. 

Trent ADORES Studio Ghibli movies. 

Trent goes Christmas caroling every year.

Trent’s interested in cosplay, though he won’t do it. He doesn’t want to be made fun of.

He has a bonsai tree. He makes sure to take extra good care of her. He named her Faye after Faye Valentine from Cowboy Bebop.

He’s amazing at improv.

If he’d actually try it, Trent would really like Grottos and Gremlins.

He used to have Nerf wars all the time when he was younger.

Sometimes, he’ll randomly run into one of his friend’s rooms with a Nerf gun and shoot them.

He’s terrible at pinball.

He’s good at pool.

Trent hides a lot of things from his friends. He’s afraid of being seen as a dork or even worse…a nerd.

His friends always show up to the plays he’s in. He’s really happy when they do. It inspires him to do his absolute best. However, it makes him a bit more nervous.

Trent has a really good memory.

He loves chilling in pools.

He’d love to go on a vacation to the Maldives. 

Trent’s interested in tourism.

He desperately wants to get out of Bullworth. There’s nothing for him there. He wants to go to a big city. Las Vegas to be more specific. 

Trent mostly wears sports jerseys. 

Trent takes acting VERY seriously. It’s like his livelihood. 

He definitely practices pick-up lines in the mirror.

He’s really romantic when it comes to dating. 

He strangely seems to know a lot about architecture.

Trent likes ceramics.

He seems to have this delusion that Ms. Phillips is madly in love with him.

[octoberarchives]

Revolution

Prelude: This was written for a creative writing course for a prompt involving worldbuilding, to which I created a medieval fantasy world with heavy french influence. As such, this isn't meant to be an accurate depiction of revolutionary france but an homage to the revolution and the class struggles of the time. This was written when I was a freshman.

The music begins with a flourish of notes that meet the ears like honey meets a spoon, but its source went unseen, somewhere behind the off-white plaster walls with gold filigree trim a third of the way up the border between this room and the next. The foyer of the Ninth Estate was lavish, with only tasteful colors on display. Purple and Green were too garish for the Ninth Estate so the pillows and the curtains and the lounges were all shades of crimson, ebony, pearl, and gold. The eggshell hue created a stark contrast between the rich colors of the room and the walls themselves. Breaking the flow of the music, one of the dark-stained wooden doors detailed to perfection with the most complex carvings in Touraine and a golden doorknob bolted to it; the screws holding it in place meticulously straight and turned parallel to one another, swung open. A tall majordomo with slicked hair parted down the middle, wearing a velvet black vest with swirling waves gilding its soft surface, approaches Lord and Lady Francois and Suzanne Hochelle. 

“Je suis désolé, Seigneur, but the wine cellar is nearly empty. I’m unsure if we will have enough for tonight’s guests.”

“No matter, Louis, we’ll have them pay a combined fee for food and drink as they enter, tell them we’re giving it to an orphanage in the city, they’ll eat that up faster than the Velouté Reine-Margot-” Suzanne swung a fine hand-painted fan inches from her face, powder gently removing itself from the corners of her nose and carried away by the wind. In unison, the two of them gave out the epitome of manufactured chuckles and looked into each other's eyes, their stares somehow deep yet blank at the same time, like how a painting stares back at you lifelessly. 

“Save the bottles you empty and fill them with whatever plonk you can buy from their generous donations.” Francois waved his hand monotonously, but Louis did not digress as he wished;

“Sorry, Seigneur, just one more hurdle that needs your attention.”

“Out with it, Louis. Anastasia will be here soon with my wig and I cannot move as she works, lest her design be flawed on my head.” Francois now let the scroll he’d been passing his eyes over fall to his lap, revealing the ruffled white shirt that had been washed and dried and hung a dozen times over.

“A policier  came to the door just earlier, he said that the protests from the city may flare as the night moves on and to take care coming and going, and three of the estate guards have come down with an illness.” Louis stood still, holding his hands together in a tight ball.

“Give five of the servingmen rifles, have them take the guard’s places. Shoot anybody who gathers too close, we’ll have the bards play louder and the bodies cleared by the time the guests take their leave.” And, again, Francois shook his hand and leaned back into mellow ignorance next to his wife, aloof in her look toward the ceilings bathing in golden light from the Italianate chandelier. The rings of gold across the slightly domed roof were made to reflect the light so that the room glowed just a little brighter. Louis, desperate for just a few more answers to a few more questions that would surely have him beheaded and replaced by the next gathering, left to do as he was instructed exactly. Within the breadth of a few hours, the guests began arriving. Any semblance of a crowd outside of the Ninth Estate had been dealt with swiftly, and the very first guests arrived just after Louis had come back with a case of wine surely bought outside of the Gratte-ciel District, but none of tonight’s guests would come to know that fact.

First were Lord and Lady Hannequin, from the 2nd Estate; not unexpected as they were known for their early arrivals and expensive party favors bought with ‘throwaway money’, coveted among the wealth of the 2nd Estate. Even the Hochelles in the Ninth Estate were rich and members of the Bourgeois, but certainly not to that same extent. It was rumored among the Estates that the Hannequins had eight cats and twenty-two birds, two cats for each member of the family and a bird for every servant they had. But the Hochelles only heard that from the d’Amboises who heard it from the Granjeans, in the Sixth and Eighth Estates respectively and who also happened to be the next two families to arrive, opposite that order. The rest funneled in behind them and soon all ten of the Estates of the Bourgeois in Touraine were inside the main foyer of the Ninth.

The party went on for hours without major mishap; the guests all enjoyed the very inexpensive brand of faux foreign wine they were drinking, the musicians played at the correct intervals that Suzanne’s handmaiden had handpicked just a week before through various mathematical equations. Outside, however, a crowd was brewing. The walls and the gates surrounding the Ninth Estate were rather far from the house itself, so the crowd had their own torches and weapons and rakes and whatever else they could get their hands on to cause panic. They were chanting something in Tourainian that most of the guards couldn’t hear over their own bickering about what to do. Suddenly, one of the men in the crowd came to the front and began pounding the gates with a large brick, one, two, three, four times and the gate came crashing open. From the flock of guards lining the ramparts, a shout:

“Fire!” And at once fifteen puffs of smoke and a bright flashing light of gunpowder being sparked sent bullets flying into the crowd, and not a single one missed; some dropped, screaming in pain, while others had no time to scream. The protesters themselves began chanting, now in a common language, funneling like a herd of bulls toward the gate:

“We live in mud and squalor! Our families die from famine and disease! We cannot work and we cannot survive!” More shouts came from the ramparts followed by more puffs of smoke. Guards clad in leather-strapped armor dropped into the crowd, cutting through the mob like butter with blades of sharpened steel. More people expired as thundering sounds of gunfire echoed through the night. Torches dropped to the grass of the Estate, setting ablaze the grounds. A mass of bodies with blood dripping down to their scarred and blistered hands had gathered. Coming from the confines of the Ninth Estate was Louis, who looked solemnly at the lines of blood across the grass and staining the swords of the guards.

“Clean this up, resecure the gates. Nobody enters the Ninth Estate this night.” And so they did. From the second-floor foyer of the Ninth Estate, Francois and Suzanne sat on one chaise lounge together, watching as the other nine families danced and laughed and drank and ate, the music too loud for the gunshots to break the festivities and the curtains all drawn to hide whatever massacre happens outside, and so the cycle of ignorance continues unending.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 1

“You can do this Marinette,” Adrien whispered encouragingly, echoing the mantra she’d been whispering to herself for the past two days.  She could do this.  She could manage.  This was for Max.  She could handle it.  He couldn’t be here but she could.  She could be strong for him.  She gave Adrien a shaky smile and nodded.  “We just have to find him and we can leave,” he reminded her.

Marinette took a breath and let it out slowly. She’d dealt with far, far worse than a few judgmental, heartless asses who had no real interest in her.  But seas of artificial smiles had always unsettled her and currently she was surrounded with so much artificial sweetness she felt like she was walking through a kid’s cereal aisle.  That added onto her already existing anxiety had her ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

She ran her hand over the skirt of her dress, letting the feeling of the fabric and the knowledge of all that had gone into it soothe her.  She was especially proud of her dress and the work that had gone into it.  It was a black so dark it almost appeared to draw in the light around it.  A mesh with strategically placed blood red decorations overlaid the dress, hugging her bodice until it reached her hips then dropped into a flowing skirt that ended just before it could pool on the ground.

She fought the urge to fiddle with the belt in her nervousness.  She couldn’t show weakness like that, not here.  She looked up at Adrien again in search of an anchor to reality.  She took in his expression and had to stifle the laugh that resulted.  He had his own artificially sweet smile on but his eyes quite clearly begged for a quick death.  He glanced down to her and nudged her discreetly, his artificial smile becoming wide and real.  “Shhhh,” he hushed her under his breath.  “We’re trying not to attract attention to ourselves, remember?  We’re ghosts.”  He looked around to make sure nobody was looking at them.

Marinette immediately quieted, her face becoming somber. She did remember.  In and out.  That was the goal.  Her goal. Knock the man on his ass with Max’s accomplishments, then never see him, or anyone else in this room, other than Adrien of course, ever again.  They were supposed to be like ghosts.  There but not.  Her eyes scanned the room looking for their target.

Adrien’s eyes immediately softened and filled with regret.  “Shit, Mari. I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” she looked up at him with an artificial smile of her own.  “I know. It’s fine.  It’s not your fault.”  She scanned the crowd again, cursing her height, as she had many times in her life.  Even with the six inch, death defying heels, she still barely reached Adrien’s eyes, let alone give her any kind of advantage to see the crowd.  She needed some kind of vantage point but unfortunately, the only high point in the ballroom was the stage, which she couldn’t utilize if she was going to follow her Ghost policy.  “We might have more success if we split up.  Let me know if you find him.”

Adrien squeezed her arm quickly before nodding. “Good luck.”

Marinette shot him a genuine smile.  “You too.  May the Luck be with you.”

Adrien laughed and shook his head.  “I never should have forced you to watch that movie.”

Marinette grinned back.  “You never should have forced me to watch the prequels.  The original ones were just fine.”  Adrien narrowed his eyes at her but let it drop in favor of disappearing in the crowd to find their target.

Marinette followed him with her eyes until she couldn’t see him anymore then took a deep breath to brace herself.  Her eyes immediately started darting around and her fingers started dancing.  She needed something to occupy them or she was going to start attracting unwanted attention.

She noted a bar close by and made a beeline for it. She waited politely for the bartender to notice her, her fingers tapping anxiously against the bar while she waited. She froze when she heard a gruff voice next to her.  “Did you sneak in here?”

She turned to the voice and blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”

“You’re anxious and jittery.  Afraid you’re going to get kicked out?” the man elaborated.

Marinette studied him for a moment trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.  “No,” she started slowly, trying to give her brain a chance to answer the puzzle. “Just not a fan of events like this.”

The man scoffed and nodded in understanding. “Cheers.”  He raised his glass for her to clink his but she held out her hands with a sheepish look, showing she didn’t have a drink yet.  “Well, that’s a crime.  Nobody should have to endure one of these without a drink.”  He motioned to the bartender and got an immediate response. “Another for me and a…” he motioned to Marinette to give her order.

“Oh, champagne, please,” she finished with a smile for the bartender.  That’s what was socially acceptable at events like this, right?  Champagne.

The bartender looked to the man for confirmation. The man nodded.  “And a champagne for the woman.”  Marinette scowled at the bartender causing the man to laugh. “He’s just worried that you’re underage. You look awfully young.  You’re not, right?”

Marinette’s glare softened in realization.  “Oh, that makes sense.  No, I’m not.  I forgot the legal age here is higher than in France.”

He nodded and looked at her critically for a moment before offering his hand.  “Jason.”

Marinette immediately reached out for his hand and answered with her name before her brain registered the name he’d given. Jason.  Jason Todd.  Bruce Wayne’s son.  She pulled her hand back quickly as the realization hit her and focused on leveling her breathing.  She grabbed the champagne glass more violently than necessary when the bartender set it down in front of her and immediately downed the entire glass, only coughing a bit as the bubbles tickled her throat.  Overall, champagne was not the best drink to chug.  “Another, please,” she croaked out.

“You know, there are better drinks for that, if that’s what you want to do,” Jason grinned, laughing at her.

“Wasn’t the plan until it was and then that’s all I had,” she croaked out, her voice still hoarse from the bubbles.  She kept her eyes focused on her empty glass as she spoke, almost afraid to make eye contact with him as if just seeing her eyes would be enough to blow her cover.

Jason chuckled and nodded in understanding. “Don’t suppose you’d care to dance?”

Marinette whipped her head to him and stared incredulously, forgetting her previous reservations.  She only moved again when the bartender set the new drink down in front of her.  “Um… no… thank you.  That doesn’t seem… I don’t think my date would be comfortable with that.  Good luck getting drunk enough to handle tonight though.”  She gave him a weak smile and raised her glass to him before moving into the fray again, now armed with a socially acceptable fidget toy.

It took five minutes of avoiding wandering hands and leering looks but with a little luck and some prodding from the goddess hiding in the folds of her skirt, she was finally able to stumble on M. Lucius Fox, Director of Research and Development for Wayne Enterprises.  He was in a conversation he was not remotely interested in with some vapid business exec who was just as interested in M. Fox.  Not that M. Fox’s disinterest was clear.  He was very polite and good at covering his boredom, much more so than his conversation partner, but she’d been at enough stuffy, snobby parties with Adrien, Felix, and Chloe to know the signs.

She took another breath and squared her shoulders, going into Ladybug Mode; calm and confident, completely assured of herself. She was on a mission.  She had a goal and a plan to accomplish it, and once she had a plan, she had a direction and purpose, and with those, her insecurities fell away.  With M. Fox in her sights, she could see the pieces and the way they fit together. There were no more doubts.  She set her glass on a passing waiter’s tray and made her way over to M. Fox.

“The elusive M. Fox.  It is a pleasure to meet you,” Marinette purred, coming up next to him with a charming, real smile.

“I didn’t realize I was hiding,” Lucius responded with a polite smile of his own.

“Must just come naturally.  Foxes are known to be crafty.”  Marinette looked around them and motioned toward the dancefloor. “Would you care to dance, M. Fox?”

He shook his head deferentially.  “Are you sure there aren’t other people here you’d rather dance with?”

Marinette smiled conspiratorially and leaned closer to him, making sure to keep a respectable distance.  She did NOT want to have her banter confused with flirting. That was not the strategy she had devised.  “That would defeat the purpose of coming here.  I came here specifically to speak with you.”

Lucius looked down at her analytically, trying to figure out what her angle was, but took her hand and followed her onto the dancefloor.  “And what did you want to speak about, Ms…?”

“Dupain Cheng.  Marinette Dupain Cheng.  It’s nice to meet you M. Fox.  I wanted to speak to you to sell my friend Max Kante.”

Lucius’ eyes widened almost imperceptibly as the music changed.  After a beat, he chuckled.  “I’m not in the market to buy anyone, but thank you.”  He settled his hands on her mid-back and hand for their dance.

Marinette chuckled good naturedly along with him. “Sell his talents, would be a better way to say it.”

“And where is Mr. Kante?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, curious why the young man didn’t bother to come himself.  “Why are you presenting his talents instead of him?”

“Finals.  Had the incredibly bad luck to have a Friday at noon final.  I mean at least it wasn’t at 19h, right?  Can you believe they have those?”  She scrunched up her nose in playful disgust.  “But still means he’s taking it right now.  And for his last final of his career.  I mean… probably.  Knowing him, he might get another PhD at some point.  My finals and presentation ended last week.  M. Wa…” she took a steadying breath and looked back up with a strained smile hoping he wouldn’t notice the stutter.  “M. Wayne even visited for it.  That’s when the idea for this came to me.  So while Max studied, I plotted.”

“So why me then and not Mr. Wayne?” Lucius asked with a curious interest.

Marinette froze for just a second.  Hardly enough for anyone to notice.  Her mind raced to calculate the appropriate response to that question, a satisfactorily casual yet intelligent response.  “M. Wayne isn’t in charge of research.  You are.  Not to mention, I highly doubt the CEO would be involved enough in the research and development projects to know what was going on.  You I take as a man who knows what is going on with all your ongoing projects.”

He nodded.  She wasn’t wrong, or normally wouldn’t be.  Mr. Wayne usually was not involved in any projects and with the exception of one particular project they were having issues with, he wouldn’t know the particulars.  “A very dangerous and elaborate plan.  Why didn’t you make an appointment with me?  Or just stop me on the street?” he prodded, hoping for her thought process.

Marinette laughed lightly.  “I don’t imagine I would have had a chance in Hell of making an appointment with you in your office.  I have no standing, no name, no significance that would have attracted any PA worth their salt’s attention.  I would have been pawned off onto a low ranking employee to handle, if I was handled at all.  And something like this needed to be taken to you.  

“As for running into you on the street, I can’t imagine you would have responded positively to getting accosted on the street. You seem more than capable of handling yourself with grace in the face of a pest.  I doubt I would have gotten more than a few words in.  At a gala however,” she grinned conspiratorially at him. “Societal convention.  Almost absolute certainty of at least one dance where I would have you one-on-one for a few minutes.  Hostage audience.  Figured I could use it to my advantage for once.”

Lucius smiled back at her ingenuity.  “There’s an application process he could have gone through,” he noted.  

Mari nodded and looked out to the crowd, scanning it.  “Right, applying to M. Fedor Rabler,” she said distractedly.  “He did that.”

Lucius nodded in understanding.  Their application process was tough.  Lots of amazing candidates didn’t get through. He had to respect her devotion to her friend, to risk coming here and potentially making an enemy of Wayne Enterprises if he’d been that sort of man.  His eyes turned sympathetic.  “I’m sorry he was passed over.”

“You know, I’ve noticed Elspeth Cole puts forth a lot of inventions and extremely varied ones at that,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard his consolation.  “Most inventors, you can see their process, you can see how they got from one invention to the next, but hers… they’re so varied.  It’s almost like they’re coming from completely different people.”  Lucius watched her carefully, waiting to see where she was going with this.  “That’s them, isn’t it?  Dancing together.  Awfully close for purely colleagues.”

Lucius followed her sight line to Ms. Cole and Mr. Rabler dancing extremely closely.  Not obscenely, but perhaps a bit closer than was normally acceptable at a society event such as this one.  “It’s hardly incriminating that two people with expertise in electrical engineering would get together,” he said slowly.

“Max is amazing.  Brilliant,” Marinette said, seemingly not noticing her non-sequitur. “He created an AI that helped the Parisian superheroes locate and defeat our supervillain at only 14.”  Lucius’ brow rose.  That was certainly promising.  He wondered what would have caused them not to take such an applicant.  Surely there was some sort of embellishment there, but as he studied her, she seemed entirely genuine.  

“He’s being scouted by several high profile companies including Lexcorp and Palmer Technologies.”  She turned her attention back to Lucius, a curious pout on her lips. “But not Wayne Enterprises.”  She looked away with clearly forced casualness. “Lexcorp and Palmer, they’re offering pretty impressive packages.  Not as good as he deserves in my opinion, but I may be a bit biased.  Wayne Enterprises however… nothing.  Not even an offer.

“Now, I don’t really have a dog in the fight… other than wanting my friend to be safe and treated with the respect he deserves. But Palmer Technologies gets blown up by a villain or its inventors kidnapped far too frequently for me to be comfortable with my friend working there.  And Lexcorp…”  She looked down as if in thought before looking back at him again with a determined look in her eye.

“You know, I get a feeling sometimes.  I can’t really explain it, just get a feeling about people or things.  I’ve found it’s best for me and the people around me if I listen to that feeling and that feeling tells me Lex Luthor is the last person who should be trusted with a brain as brilliant as Max’s.”  She looked back over to Mr. Rabler and Ms. Cole.  “That same feeling told me Max shouldn’t trust the application process for Wayne Enterprises.”  

She looked back at Lucius with an apologetic smile. “No offense.  So, I convinced Max to make a small part of his submission just a little off.  Just a bit. Enough that even an expert could miss it, but if it’s wrong the project could never work.  It took a lot of convincing to get him to do it.  He refused to believe he had anything to worry about in Wayne Enterprises with its stellar reputation.”  She scrunched up her face in annoyance.  “But that feeling, you know?  I couldn’t get over it.  After a lot of work, I convinced him there was no harm.  After all, if he was hired he could fix it.  If he wasn’t… well, you shouldn’t be using what he presented anyway, right? No harm, no foul as you Americans say.”

“No,” Lucius agreed.  “That would be theft and completely against WE policy and standards.  In fact, we should not be asking applicants to submit anything like that in the first place.”

Marinette smiled and nodded approvingly.  “I’ve heard rumblings, or rather Max has, of WE getting into transmutation of materials.  Just can’t get that algorithm right though, can you?  Algorithms are hard.  Just a little off and nothing works.”

He stared at her.  That was a secret project.  Other departments in Wayne Enterprises didn’t even know about it.  “I can’t comment on ongoing projects.”  

“I never did show you what Max is capable of, did I?”  She gave him a bright smile and reached down to press a disguised button on her belt. Lucius tensed and cursed himself for exposing himself to whatever she was about to do.  A wave of emerald green washed over the front of her bodice as the blood red decorated mesh overlay turned into a brilliant emerald green that reflected the lights now rather than absorbing it.

Lucius’ eyes widened in surprise, a feat very few had been able to draw out of him.  “He designed the fabric?” he whispered out.  He reached out tentatively to touch the fabric at her shoulder.

Marinette grinned brilliantly at his reaction.  It was no less than Max deserved.  He’d worked incredibly hard on it.  “He did,” she nodded in confirmation, “and the software that controls it.  The whole dress can change but we’re kind of surrounded here and I didn’t want to attract too much attention.”  She let him touch it for a moment before pushing the button again to turn it back into the black, then allowing him to feel the mesh to confirm it was the same fabric.  “He has ideas for changing the texture as well, but limited resources you know? Something I’d hope wouldn’t be an issue at WE.”

“How does it work?”  His eyes were still focused on the fabric at her shoulder. He took a quick look at the rest of the bodice, but quickly snapped his eyes back to her shoulder.  The neckline was conservative, but it was still rather unbecoming to stare at the young woman’s chest.

Marinette laughed.  “You’ll have to ask Max that.  I just designed the dress.  I don’t really understand the mechanics behind it, but he does.  I doubt Ms. Cole can say the same.”

Lucius stared in awe at her shoulder before looking back up to her eyes and nodding in understanding.  “Interesting.  I’ll take that under advisement.  Maybe we should be scouting you as well.”

Mari laughed.  “No, thank you.  I’m not an inventor.  I’m a designer.  But I appreciate the interest.”

Lucius nodded and led her off the dancefloor with the end of the song.  “Inventor or not, we can always use someone with intuition, intelligence, and ingenuity like you’ve demonstrated.”  

Marinette gave him a brilliant, somewhat familiar smile. “That’s very flattering.  Thank you, M. Fox.  But tonight is about Max.  I have my own, separate plans for my future.”

Lucius nodded in understanding.  “Our loss,” he answered sincerely.  “If you ever need any help or advice, please feel free to call me.  I’m sure Mr. Kante will have it soon enough and can pass it onto you.”  He looked back down to her shoulder again.  “If I may…”  He motioned toward her shoulder.  

Marinette laughed.  “Of course.  I understand how truly impressive it is.  It’s been incredibly inspirational, thinking of the options.”

“And what did your intuition tell you about tonight?” He looked up to meet her eyes, curious about her answer.

Marinette’s face went slack for a moment before she pasted on a bittersweet smile.  “That it would be costly but worth it.”

Lucius quirked his head to the side.  “In what way?”

Marinette shook her head absently and took a sudden interest in M. Fox’s tie.  “I’m not sure yet.”

Mr. Fox’s eyes softened.  “Would he be available to meet on Monday?”

Marinette grin and snapped her eyes up to him. Mission success!  Max was going to get his interview!  “He can be.”

“I’d actually like to speak with both of you, if you don’t mind.  In my office at 10 Monday?” he offered.  

Marinette faltered.  “In Wayne Enterprises?”

Lucius chuckled.  “Naturally.”

Marinette swallowed heavily.  “Why don’t we meet somewhere else?  Early morning coffee perhaps?” she offered instead with an artificial smile.  “Here’s my card.  Have someone give me a call or text and I can arrange it.  He’s scheduled to fly in tomorrow morning.  He was supposed to meet with Lexcorp Monday morning, but he’ll be at coffee to meet you instead.”

Lucius smiled back at her as he slipped her card into his pocket.  “I greatly appreciate your candor and support Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He took her hand in both of his to shake it.  “I cannot tell you how good it was to meet you.  And if you ever get one of those feelings about me or Wayne Enterprises, let me know, okay?”

“Lucius.”

Lucius froze at the cold voice, not accustomed to that tone of voice directed at him.  He looked over curiously and missed Marinette freezing before pushing another button on her belt.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Mission Shenanigans

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings | smut, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Word count | 2385

Summary | while on a mission undercover, you and Bucky are forced to share a bed. Very dirty things ensue

Masterlist

"If we're just pretending to be a couple, why do we have to actually sleep in the same bed? Do you really think they're going to break in and catch on of us sleeping on the sofa?" You scoffed, hands perched on your hips and as shook your head at the super soldier in front of you.

"Maybe." Bucky smirked, his answer short but almost full of a lingering promise of more. You rolled your eyes at him, itching to slap that cocky smirk off his face and also maybe accidentally let his cock slip into your mouth whilst doing so. Oops.

You couldn't help it, really. I mean, Bucky is gorgeous. He truly is a specimen, all muscles and cocky smirks and metal arms. Oh and the metal arm? You were dying to know how the metal felt against your skin, against your lips - your lower lips-

"You there doll?" You were grabbed from your little train of thoughts (sinful thoughts at that) by the man in front of you snapping his fingers in your face.

"S-sorry. Lost in thought. What were you saying?" You stuttered, cheeks flushing pink as you averted your gaze to a vase on the table that suddenly became awfully captivating.

"I said that we should go out and get some wood for the fire before it gets dark." Bucky drawled, rolling his eyes now when you hummed in agreement whilst nodding absent-mindedly.

You were on a mission to get some info on a potential lead on a rising HYDRA group in southern France. You were in a cabin like area near some forest that almost seemed out of place, posing as a young couple that was newly wed and wanted a honey moon abroad. So far you pulled off the part perfectly, playing the most stereotypically-American tourists in Europe you could be. You got overly excited at the smallest things, told everyone you spoke to that you adored their accent, insisted on eating at French restaurants only, and local ones of course.

It was the perfect ploy - the only downfall being Bucky's metal arm causing him to stick out like a sore-thumb. So the super soldier has been miserable in public, roasting in the summer sun whilst clad in leather gloves and long-sleeve shirts.

What you had failed to mention to him that the sight of droplets of sweat collecting along his brow and sliding slowly down his neck got you all hot and bothered. So hot and bothered, in fact, that you found yourself desperate to stick your hand between your legs to quell the growing ache blossoming there.

But you couldn't because Bucky was insisting that you both share a bed. Originally, you had just planned on taking the sofa in the other room and get yourself off but that plans obviously gone out the window.

"Right, well. We should go now." Bucky said, cutting through the awkward silence that had settled comfortably between you two. He grabbed your arm, tugging you out the small cabin and towards the woods.

So, three hours later, you found yourself full of food, groaning with the amount to had consumed. Chewing your last bite, you set your cutlery down on you plate, which was almost immediately swiped by Bucky.

"With cooking like that, you've just become my most dangerous friend, Barnes." You chided, a smile finding your face when he chuckled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling adorably. He set your plate with his in the sink, turning on the water and drizzling some dish soap into the basin. He sipped his hands quickly on a towel before discarding it on the work surface and turning to face you.

"Well, I'm glad you liked it, doll." He smiled, arms crossing over his chest. With the hot summer heat, he'd changed into a tank top almost the second you entered the cabin, so his bulging bicep was on display as well as that metal arm that you adored. His hair was thrown into a bun at the back of his head, a few framing pieces fallen out around his face and it made him look beautiful.

"I'm gonna go shower whilst you clean up." You suddenly announced, pushing up from your chair and bursting from the room. You walked swiftly down the hall, into the bedroom to grab a towel before you were entering the adjoining bathroom.

You moaned as the warm water soothed your aching muscles, the steam clouding up the bathroom as you hummed the song that'd been stuck in your head for god knows how long. Taking a deep sigh, you massaged the shampoo into your hair, the feeling of your nails scraping against your scalp a welcome one.

After washing the suds from your hair and wiping down your body with a sponge and some lemon scented soap, you shut the water off and pulled back the curtain of the shower. Careful not to trip as you stepped out of the tub, you grabbed the fluffy white towel sat waiting for you on the counter and patted your hair until it was only damp, before drying off your body. You wrapped the cloth around you, holding it up just above your breast, clutching it there so I didn't fall down as you tiptoed back into the bedroom.

The door whined is I opened, the handle banging against the wall as you crept into the room.

"Hey, doll." Bucky smirked, lounging on the bed and resting in his palms. Your eyes bugged out of your skull, you jumped slightly, the shock of seeing him there shirtless and with sweatpants handing loose over his hips caused your grip on the towel to stop long enough for it to fall. Bucky smoothed his tongue of his lip, biting down on it as his eyes roamed your body.

You were still in shock, not moving from where you stood, towel bundled at your feet and arms awkwardly by your sides. Bucky whistled, slowly standing and taking a few strides so he was stood in front of you.

"You look even better than I thought you would." He mumbled, licking his lips again before his hands found purchase on your hips. His eyes were searching you, blue edges fading as black lust petered out from his pupils. Your breathing was heavy, mind foggy but all you could comprehend was the half-naked super soldier stood in front of your naked form, hands - one comfortingly warm one chillingly cold - resting on the bare skin of your hips.

And I just made you needy and slick with want. And that had to be the cause of the words that found themselves upon your lips. Your eyes flickered between his and his lips - his soft, plump pink lips - that were just begging you to kiss them.

"If you don't kiss me in the next three second I'm going to scream." You murmured and he breathed a laugh through his nose before his lips crashed to yours in a lustful, earth-shattering kiss. Bucky's hands travelled over your sides, squeezing your waist before going higher until one wrapped around your neck possessively, using the grip he had to walk you back until your back came into contact with the door you had entered from, his metal hand bracing against the wood for support.

Your moan let him know it was exactly what you wanted and Bucky tightened his grip slightly on your neck, a gentle squeeze to test the waters that had you groaning against his lips. He tilted his head to the side, feeling the kiss even further. It was a dirty, messy, sloppy thing - all teeth and tongue and unadulterated desire. When his lips finally left yours, they trailed down your neck, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses over your throat and your collar bone. A hand found it's way between your quaking legs, finding nothing by slick and slippery skin as the tips brushed through the collecting wetness at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the feeling, letting his digits dance through the liquid before one was slipping into your quivering hole.

"Bucky!" You gasped, hands reaching up, grabbing and clawing at his shoulders for purchase as his thumb connected with your little bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked violently into his hand, a low and rumbling chuckle falling from those perfect, pink lips. Another finger entered you, both of them curling - curling just right, hitting that spot deep within you.

You came with a  cry and shaky legs, your body falling limply into Bucky's as he retracted his fingers, revelling in the wanton look in your eyes as he licked them clean.

"Delicious." He hummed, pulling off his fingers with a pop. Before you could protest, the brunet had scooped you into his arms, hoisting up up with his hands under your ass - groping and squeezing as he pinned you to the wall with his hips. Your arms were wrapped around his neck by now, fingers tangling into his long, brown hair as his lips never left your skin.

"Fuck, Bucky, please." You begged, but you weren't really sure what you were asking for.

"You want me to fuck you?" He whispered in your ear, a moan slipping past your lips. "You want me to fuck you in the middle of a mission like a whore?" He husked and you moaned even louder - knowing the word should offend you but it did anything but, the combined sensation of his hot breath fanning over your cheeks, his prominent bulge pressed to your folds and his hands resting on your bare sides overwhelming your senses. His hands moved down, fumbling with the drawstring on his sweats before he was pulling away slightly, pushing them and his boxers down his legs eagerly. You brought a hand down too, letting your fingers trail over his abs before you were marvelling at his cock - hard and leaking, red tip curved up against his stomach - which was now smeared with Previn that you were desperate to lick off. But he wouldn't let you from his grasp.

Instead, you both let out a moan when your small hand wrapped around Bucky's cock, Bucky shivering slightly at the coldness of you palm. He kissed you again hard, tongue smoothing over your lips before it was pushing its way into your mouth, tangling with yours and stroking over the muscle in languid strokes. You fisted his hair, relishing in the groan he let out as you tugged. You smiled into the kiss at his reaction, but pulled away to squeal his thumb flitted over your clit again.

Bucky moaned when his tip ran through your wetness, hand wrapping around his length as he lined himself up with your core. Bucky leant in, pecking your lips.

"Ready?" He mumbled and you moaned his name, letting out a loud moan when he sheathed himself inside of you in one sharp thrust.

"Fuck, Bucky!" You moaned and he let his thumb rest on your clit, teasing circles rubbed over it making the knot in your stomach forms already, blue eyes now turned black as he looked into yours.

"I want you to come around my cock, pretty girl" He murmured, forehead resting against your as he begun to thrust. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin only spurring Bucky on as his pace became slow but strong, knocking the air out of your lungs with every thrust. His breath was hot on your cheeks, eyes keeping yours prisoner and a small layer of sweat coated your faces.

The whole scene was erotic, so it only pushed your further to the edge when he began moaning and groaning, your own sounds vibrating around the room. Your fingers traced over the scars littering his shoulder, before clinging to the cool metal and moaning out at the contrast against your flushed and hot skin.

"Good girl." He moaned, the praise sending a new wave of wetness tumbling down to your core, his cock pushing in and out of you effortlessly now with how much lubrication you were supplying. Bucky's hand moved from the door, fingers wrapping a round your throat again and pushing your head back against the wood.

"This pussy's gonna make me cum so hard, sweetheart, so fuckin' hard." He mumbled into the skin of your neck, dropping his head to nip and suck at your jaw line. You knew there'd be marks there tomorrow, but you couldn't care less in that moment as your walls began to clamp down on his in a vice grip.

"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel how close you are." Bucky moaned and your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, eyes rolling back into your skull, his pace picking up as he tried to push you to your release.

When you came it was a mind-shattering orgasm, eyes rolling back and hips bucking, stomach tight and legs shaking around his waist.

"There we go, good girl." Bucky groaned, chasing his own release now as he used you for his own pleasure. "Shit, y/n." He moaned, stilling his hips as a final thrust sent him over the edge, cumming in you in hot spurts.

Your breaths mingled, the smell of sex invading your senses as you head dropped forward to lean against Bucky's shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Buck, that was-" you panted.

"Amazing? The best sex of your life?" He supplied, hand massaging your hip as you both calmed down.

"Something like that." You giggled. He chuckled too, and you gasped as he felt him thrust shallowly into you again. How was he already hard again? You figured that the serum must have affected everything. You groaned, and Bucky smirked down at you.

"Ready for round two?" He asked, walking with you in his grasp over to the bed.

"If anyone does break in tonight, they're in for one hell of a show." You smiled weakly, Bucky dropping you into the sheets and crawling over you.

"They sure are, Doll."

[anderwater]

What did you learn about him? Please tell us what you’re comfortable sharing! Thanks :) also I hope you had fun

Hi! Thanks, I had a lot of fun - and now a lot of regrets, can’t believe I forgot to record it all. So, mostly from my (sad but fresh) memory and my written notes :

- London : very big city, very expensive (« fuck me, that’s too much », his words). Got an intensive 6 months acting course instead of two years and now have his diploma! He even mentioned his teacher‘s advices a few times.

- Two weeks ago, he got back to Berlin to get back into the business so he could find some work (« because London is so expensive » - which confirms fan’s assumptions : the boy needs to eat). He had an audition last week for a fairy tale ? He also would like to try theater in the future (Hamlet)

- After the MC praised him for having the balls to work as an actor, Michi agreed that it’s hard, that you get rejected all the time «  you think : am i shit? are /they/ shit ? ». His teacher told him that rejection is also part of life and you just need to stand up again until you die.

- Since he grew up in a family theater, he was always passionated about acting. His aunt always tells that story about how he’d put his backpack under his shirt and pretended to be the hunchback of Notre Dame in front of the mirror - he did stood up and showed us how while laughing, cute.

- A genre he hasn’t tried yet but would like to do next is Comedy. He thinks that we all need to laugh a bit and be happy after the Covid times, (« everything is so f-ing boring » « comedy is one of the hardest genre » « making people laugh is hard »)

- He would have loved to see a season about David, to see what happened before he came to the new school, with his family and why he lived with his sister, how he got there : that it’d be a good depiction of finding yourself and accepting yourself which he thinks the whole show is about. It would have been a good opportunity to see a completely different character.

- Plus : when we were talking about having to dig in your own feelings to act, he also mentioned Lukas’ emotional scene in Druck as an example, that he found it touching, that you could see his real feelings, how he used his experience and he did admire how he put himself out there like this.

- He doesn’t have much contact with the cast anymore since they’re all doing their own things but the connection is still there, « it goes beyond ». Even if they see each other once a year, they still have that thing they did together, « It’s beautiful »

- He gets really attached to his characters when he‘s filming. It was especially hard for him when he was very busy back in the days since he had to keep jumping from one location to another, one character to another. Had to find ways to seperate from those roles so he could go home as « himself ». Though, he has kept one piece of clothing for every character he played to remember them.

- Axel (from Skam France) apparently watched Druck S3 and complimented him about it, he couldn’t answer anything to him so now he’s thinking about watching his Skam France season (pls). He asked what were the best seasons of this remake, how we liked it, and one other fan suggested most of the seasons to him while i was hesitating.

- Random : if he was an Avengers, he’d be Iron Man because rich, handsome, sexy, have a nice robot costume and can shoot anyone.

- Oh and what happened to Benni (Nakte Tiere) will stay a secret.

If they ever post the video of his panel, you may find most of what i wrote. The rest come from small parts of the meetings i had with him. Michi was adorable and very open to share. Good chats.

I litterally only attended this convention for his little person, and was part of the few who were fans of Druck (over other remakes), so it was funny to see other Skam fans appreciate his very honest, very friendly, very chill (non-performing) attitude. I hope it did satisfy your curiosity (I should have recorded it, I’m realizing how much bits i’m losing already).

[askaceattorney]

Dear daesongfg,

Thank you for the request. As mixed as our feelings are, you can be helpful during the best of times. I will reward you with a promise of fulfilling your Phoenix x Iris request you sent us a few months ago. Yes, we still have it and have saved it. Essays often take a long time to do and it depends on how much of a passion project it is.

And, Gumshoe “Letty” Fan, 

I also thank you for sending in the request. You’re awesome and I enjoy answering your letters.

Without further ado! It is now time for me to finally write a shipping essay about my favorite ship, Narumitsu/Wrightworth.

For every story in any variation, that being TV shows, games, movies, etc. it's a common theme for the main character to have a love interest that they are destined to one day get together or marry. This is what is considered a canon ship. Of course, there are exceptions to canon ships not stay together forever, but it's a common trope that there's always the love interest the main protagonist is destined to be together with. This also can many times include side characters being destined to be together with other side characters in the same way. However, for every canon ship with characters that end up together, there are the other ships that aren't canon, but fans wish to see get together. These ships can even become more popular than the canon ship itself. That's where we are introduced to Wrightworth or Narumitsu. 

Obviously, every shipper of Narumitsu knows that Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth are not in love or are canon. Sure, you might have those that proclaim that it's canon or even joke about it, but most of the fans are very aware that it's not canon. It's considered a running joke that we are being delusional to thinking it's canon, even though the idea is practically laughable. Even the creator of Ace Attorney, Shu Takumi, had said that he based Phoenix Wright's relationship with Miles Edgeworth on the close relationship between two male friends. In other words, it was never meant to hint or become anymore than just that: friends. So, why do so many of us Ace Attorney fans ship these two beloved friends?

For me, I have always been a big sucker for canon ships. I think most of us have at some point in our lives. One of the most common canon ships were the childhood best friends like Kim and Ron from Kim Possible, Danny and Sam from Danny Phantom and Tea and Yugi from Yu-Gi-Oh. I was also into other canon ships like Arnold and Helga from Hey Arnold, Aang and Katara from Avatar the Last Airbender and Jake and Rose from American Dragon Jake Long. The time I started driving out of the canonship wagon was actually Hetalia where none of the characters had anyone they were canon to be together with, yet there were so many relationships that had borderline romantic intentions (such as England and France) with some complex and close relationship that go back thousands of years. It was at that point I began understanding why so many fans preferred noncanon ships over canon ones.

One thing you have to keep in mind is that, as much as I did enjoy The Mod's Interpretation of Narumayo, while still keeping in mind that they aren't canon, it doesn't ignore the fact that Narumayo was likely expected to be canon in the trilogy. This kinda becomes an issue, because you have a great buildup between Phoenix and Maya from their complex relationship and chemistry to their teamwork together. Yet, over the course of the story, that eventually breaks apart. Phoenix gets disbarred, Maya starts training, they both kinda do their own thing, then they reunite and... that's it. Had it ended with the trilogy, then that'd be it. The rest could be left up for interpretation, but as it stands now, it seems as though Phoenix and Maya becoming a pair is at a standstill. Maya literally does nothing for Phoenix, until he gets back to work. She goes from a side character and close friend that Phoenix would give his life for to just a colleague he'd still give his life for, but now it feels typical. I felt like there was much more intensity when Trucy was held hostage in Dual Destinies than when Maya was kidnapped in Spirit of Justice. It felt like another Farewell my Turnabout 2.0 and it was over right when it started. Any fire that started between these two has now dimmed down to being friend zoned.

Miles and Phoenix, on the other hand, have progressed over the course of the six games. Even Miles Edgeworth still mentions or talks about Phoenix Wright in his own spin-off games. Unlike Narumayo, Narumitsu has a relationship that has progressed throughout the trilogy, the two Investigation games, Dual Destinies and Spirit of Justice. It never felt like a standstill. Let us see how this relationship progressed over time, starting from the beginning. 

In the first game, we are introduced to Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor, who cares about nothing else but Guilty Verdicts. When asked if he knew Miles Edgeworth, you are given the choices of Phoenix basically saying he knows Miles Edgeworth, but sees him as a cold, ruthless man that cares nothing more than Guilty Verdicts. When the two finally interact, Phoenix is the Defendant, set up to be Guilty by Redd White. Miles Edgeworth tells Phoenix that everything will be in Redd White's favor and that he will do everything in his power to make sure he proves the Defendant Guilty. Phoenix responds by saying, “you've changed,” hinting that these two have a history together. In the next case, Miles Edgeworth helps out Phoenix during a trial to get testimony out of a witness. Afterwards, he tells Phoenix that he has developed “unnecessary feelings,” because of Phoenix and never expected to ever see him again before telling him to his face he never wants to see him again. Again, hinting that Phoenix and Edgeworth have a history and that this history is resulting in Miles Edgeworth feeling uncertain about who he is and where he's going in life. Even if you believed this isn't related to any romantic intentions whatsoever, it's clear that these two are so close that Phoenix was able to make Miles Edgeworth feel uncertain about himself. 

It is in the second to last case where we discover the history and backstory between Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth. We find out that Phoenix Wright was inspired to become a Defense Attorney, because of a class trial he was forced into at the age of nine, thanks to a bunch of kids and teachers blaming him for stealing lunch money, because he was sick on the same day the money was stolen. Miles Edgeworth was the one that defended Phoenix, followed by Larry Butz. Phoenix Wright mentions that the moment he was held on that class trial was the first time he truly knew what it was like to be alone. If we are to believe this, this would mean that Phoenix was a natural social bird that talked with and played with all the students in his classroom. The moment he was blamed for stealing lunch money was the moment that everyone turned their backs on him. Having Miles Edgeworth stand up for Phoenix, despite himself being the victim, inspired Phoenix, because that was the kind of person he wanted to be. He learned that day that people are only friendly with you to be nice, but the moment that you become suspicious, they will turn their backs on you at the flip of a dime. Miles Edgeworth gained nothing by defending Phoenix, but did so, because he knew and believed Phoenix Wright was innocent, likely because this same kid was just as social with him as he was with everyone else in the classroom. Miles Edgeworth remembered the kindness and friendliness of Phoenix Wright, knowing without a doubt that he wouldn't steal something that didn't belong to him. That wasn't the kind of person he was. 

Though, this would also be the start of a blooming relationship between Phoenix and Miles. By 9-10 months, young Miles transferred due to having lost his father from a murder. It was at that moment in time that his happiness began to crumble. He lost his father and felt as though he lost everything. He was taken into the household of the Von Karma's, having to carry a wound that was never truly healed, being Miles Edgeworth had believed he accidentally killed his father. By the time Miles Edgeworth began Prosecuting, young Phoenix in college saw a newspaper article of Miles Edgeworth as the Demon Prosecutor. Phoenix could see that his old friend was sad, so he began trying to call and message him. Unfortunately, Miles Edgeworth didn't want to respond or talk to Phoenix Wright. The young boy he was friends with for a short time was the one person out of everyone else in his life Miles Edgeworth didn't want to talk to, because of not wishing to involve him with his father's murder and DL-6. Even if there was no romantic intentions, no one can deny that Miles Edgeworth cared so much about Phoenix that he feared of what would happen if Phoenix knew what his best friend did to his own father. 

When Phoenix Wright realized Miles Edgeworth was not answering his calls, he made the decision to go into law and face Miles Edgeworth in court as a Defense Attorney. His intention was to save Miles Edgeworth, because he knew that his old friend was hurting. Most people would not bother reuniting with old school friends from childhood, outside of family reunions, yet Phoenix studied and worked his butt off just to save someone he was very close to. Anyone would cross a burning bridge to save a child or best friend, but rarely would anyone give up their passion and dreams to save a lost friend. If that's not love, I don't know what is. Not even I would do something like that for my friends or even my cousin for that matter. The most I'd do is call or email them to see if they were doing okay. 

Of course, Phoenix Wright does eventually save Miles Edgeworth and is able to prove Miles Edgeworth was innocent of DL-6. Then, we get to Rise From the Ashes, demonstrating how far gone Miles Edgeworth was to the point of allowing higher authorities to manipulate him without question. This leads to the death note: Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death. However you interpret it, no one can deny that Phoenix was mentally hurt. He had gone through so much to become a Defense Attorney just to save the closest, most dearest person in his life, someone he trusted more than Maya Fey and even said it to her face. After all of that, Phoenix Wright realized that his friend committed suicide or else abandoned him. He felt betrayed, but more than that, he felt like a failure, that he had studied and worked all for nothing. There's no doubt that Phoenix Wright was very effected by this. Of course, he and Miles Edgeworth would eventually talk things out, but it was clear that Miles Edgeworth has effected Phoenix Wright more than any other person. The last person that hurt him to this degree was Dahlia Hawthorne. 

Miles Edgeworth would eventually help out Phoenix in the third game where he traveled to Hazakura Temple under the assumption that Phoenix Wright was close to death. Of course, it turned out Phoenix had a cold, but it is clear that Miles Edgeworth would stop at nothing to check on his closest and dearest friend. Posing in as a Defense Attorney isn't something that Miles Edgeworth would do for just anyone. He wouldn't even do it for Raymond Shields, yet he did so for Phoenix Wright. It's clear that Phoenix is someone just as dear to Miles Edgeworth as he is to Phoenix Wright. This is especially proven in Miles Edgeworth's own spin-off series: Miles Edgeworth Investigations. Much like how Miles Edgeworth inspired Phoenix Wright to become a Defense Attorney, Miles Edgeworth was inspired by Phoenix Wright to continue walking as a Prosecutor. He knows that a Prosecutor's job is just as significant to saving people as a Defense Attorney. They're two different jobs, but all have the same common goal: to help those that need a lawyer. A Defense Criminal Lawyer is supposed to help those accused of a crime and expected to appear in court, whereas a Prosecuting Attorney is supposed to help the people by proving criminals of their criminality no matter their origins, class or character. 

In Dual Destinies, Miles Edgeworth returns as a Chief Prosecutor, having used the years of Phoenix Wright's Disbarred period to ensure he would still be able to work in law. It's very clear that Miles Edgeworth was the most involved in Phoenix Wright's life during those seven years of being without a job, besides playing poker and the piano. Miles Edgeworth ensured that Phoenix Wright didn't rot himself. It's even likely that he may've helped Phoenix Wright whenever he was in a financial situation or needing help caring for Trucy. Miles Edgeworth proclaiming that Trucy was hiding in his luggage “again” tells us that Trucy often uses Miles Edgeworth's luggage to hitchhike abroad. In other words, during the days Phoenix Wright was with Miles Edgeworth abroad, Trucy likely snuck aboard via Edgeworth's luggage. 

Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright work together to solve the UR-1 Incident, after returning back into law. Not only does Miles Edgeworth trust Phoenix Wright wholeheartedly to help him with a case, something he'd consider unthinkable in the first game, but he continually helps Phoenix whenever he's got himself in a crisis of Trucy or Maya being in a hostage situation. Miles Edgeworth never doubts Phoenix and knows he's not someone that would defend a criminal or criminal actions, so when the time comes that he does, Miles Edgeworth can smell it from afar. He knows Phoenix that much, something Apollo didn't catch onto in Spirit of Justice. Miles Edgeworth helps Phoenix Wright investigate the final case in both Dual Destinies and Spirit of Justice. There's never really a time where Miles Edgeworth never tried helping out Phoenix, except maybe Apollo Justice, but I think we can both be certain that someone had to pull the strings to ensure Phoenix Wright would be the Head of the Jury and was likely the one to call Ema Skye on the case. 

(Art by Studio Kawaii)

As I have stated at the beginning, it is very clear that Narumitsu/Wrightworth is not canon and it was originally meant to depict the relationship between two male friends, but it's understandable and clear why many fans prefer it. Unfortunately, Phoenix's relationship with Iris never truly progressed after the third game and his relationship with Maya stood on a standstill after Apollo Justice. Most people often are turned off by canon ships, because they don't work in some form. Afterall, no canon ship is perfect. Some claim it's the age gap, which I find to be trivial at best and highly disagree that it's pedophilia (you'd be surprised what you hear from those that don't like Narumayo). There is also the employee x boss dynamic, which I do find distasteful, but nitpicky as well. Most of it all comes down to the ship not going anywhere and losing its touch after the trilogy. 

Narumitsu is beloved, because it is a ship with a complex relationship for all of us to look forward to that is continually growing. The two characters are always helping each other grow and develop as people. They are inspired by each other and seem to grow closer at each passing day. Phoenix can fight with Miles without the fear of losing that relationship. They're not afraid to pick on each other or open up when needed. Miles Edgeworth shows more of his weaker side around Phoenix Wright and the same goes vice versa. As far as I know, neither Phoenix or Miles have shown their weaker side to anyone else, not even to Larry Butz. Perhaps it's never meant to be canon, but no one can deny that it has a much stronger chemistry and progression to look forward to. 

(Art by  Studio Kawaii)

I'm so glad I was able to finally talk about my favorite ship. It's one I believe deserves the recognition it gets and I'm glad it has such a huge following. It just goes to show that not every non canon ship has to be weird. You just have to think outside the box.

- Mod Edgeworth

P.S. As a last minute edit, while Wrightworth/Narumitsu is still my favorite, now have two other ships that are equally my favorite: 

DON’T JUDGE ME! If you’d like to know why I ship these guys, send me an essay request.