#sad belgium girl

[nonasuch]

IT IS TIME: Miss Universe National Costume 2023

it's here! the Met Gala for people who actually understand what camp is!

yes I'm like 3 months late, but I sat down and watched the damn thing. I put up with the horrible little rhyming couplets for each contestant so you don't have to. and without further ado:

Albania: Starting off very Victoria’s Secret this year! Apparently it’s gold for important symbolism reasons, not just because everything in this competition is blinged out to within an inch of its life. The wings do look nice in motion!

Angola has a good balance of bling, actual cultural dress, and oh hey it has surprise bonus art on the back! That will be a theme this year.

Argentina: Why is there a guy in a hat right down at the bottom edge of her cape. He looks like he’s staring at her butt. How does this represent their flag.

Aruba: This is fine. I like the coral. She thinks climate change is bad. Her parrot is clearly way too heavy to hold up and it wobbles like crazy in motion.

Australia: This is now multiple years in a row that Australia has just worn a fucking prom dress. It’s got native wildflowers on. You could have made this exact same dress with a Great Barrier Reef theme and I would have liked it 80% more.

Bahamas: This costume is allegedly based on a 19th-century doll from the Bahamas “world famous straw market,” which is already bullshit; I googled “bahamas straw market antique doll” and like. they both have big skirts? I guess? Anyway now I’m too distracted by the way she has a hoop skirt awkwardly jammed under there and hiked up on one side. Minus ten for poor construction.

Bahrain's theme is “Bahrain’s pearl heritage,” which like. I guess? The headdress and yoke are pretty. Put more pearls on the actual outfit. Kudos for getting to wear pants.

Belgium: Girl. No. Why is your theme “Latin dance” and why are you wearing a spangly cocktail dress with a totally unrelated piece of fabric fluttering behind it? (Apparently the fabric was designed by a member of Belgium’s royal family? Who is a fashion designer? This is what nepotism gets you.)

Bolivia saw Aruba’s parrot and was like, I can do that better. And she was right! It’s way less wobbly and the costume as a whole does work better. Also made from recycled materials, so we’ll see if that’s a theme again this year. The back of the cape is nice too.

Sadly, Bolivia's parrot supremacy was short-lived, because Brazil was like, bitch please. I see your sad little parrots and raise you FOUR giant parrots, and also the shoulder parrots are articulated and can turn their heads back and forth. I think Brazil wins the parrot competition that only she knew she was in.

[awardseason]

2023 Oscars — Nominees

Best Picture “All Quiet on the Western Front” “Avatar: The Way of Water” “The Banshees of Inisherin” “Elvis” “Everything Everywhere All at Once” “The Fabelmans” “TÁR” “Top Gun: Maverick” “Triangle of Sadness” “Women Talking”

Best Director Martin McDonagh (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) Steven Spielberg (“The Fabelmans”) Todd Field (“TÁR”) Ruben Östlund (“Triangle of Sadness”)

Best Actress Cate Blanchett (“TÁR”) Ana de Armas (“Blonde”) Andrea Riseborough (“To Leslie”) Michelle Williams (“The Fabelmans”) Michelle Yeoh (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”)

Best Actor Austin Butler (“Elvis”) Colin Farrell (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Brendan Fraser (“The Whale”) Paul Mescal (“Aftersun”) Bill Nighy (“Living”)

Best Supporting Actress Angela Bassett (“Black Panther: Wakanda Forever”) Hong Chau (“The Whale”) Kerry Condon (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Stephanie Hsu (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) Jamie Lee Curtis (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”)

Best Supporting Actor Brendan Gleeson (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Brian Tyree Henry (“Causeway”) Judd Hirsch (“The Fabelmans”) Barry Keoghan (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Ke Huy Quan (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”)

Best International Feature Film “All Quiet on the Western Front” (Edward Berger, Germany) “Argentina, 1985” (Santiago Mitre, Argentina) “Close” (Lukas Dhont, Belgium) “EO” (Poland) “The Quiet Girl” (Ireland)

Best Adapted Screenplay Edward Berger, Ian Stokell, and Lesley Paterson (“All Quiet on the Western Front”) Rian Johnson (“Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery”) Kazuo Ishiguro (“Living”) Ehren Kruger, Christopher McQuarrie, and Eric Warren Singer (“Top Gun: Maverick”) Sarah Polley (“Women Talking”)

Best Original Screenplay Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) Todd Field (“TÁR”) Tony Kushner and Steven Spielberg (“The Fabelmans”) Martin McDonagh (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Ruben Östlund (“Triangle of Sadness”)

Best Animated Feature “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio” (ShadowMachine/Netflix) “Marcel the Shell with Shoes On” (A24) “Turning Red” (Pixar/Disney) “Puss in Boots: The Last Wish” (DreamWorks/Universal) “The Sea Beast” (Netflix)

Best Cinematography James Friend (“All Quiet on the Western Front”) Darius Khondji (“Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths”) Mandy Walker (“Elvis”) Roger Deakins (“Empire of Light”) Florian Hoffmeister (“Tár”)

Best Visual Effects “Avatar: The Way of Water” (20th Century/Disney) “All Quiet on the Western Front” (Netflix) “The Batman” (Warner Bros.) “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever” (Disney/Marvel) “Top Gun: Maverick” (Paramount)

Best Editing “Elvis” (Warner Bros.) “Everything Everywhere All at Once” (A24) “Top Gun: Maverick” (Paramount) “TÁR” (Focus Features) “The Banshees of Inisherin” (Searchlight Pictures)

Best Production Design “Avatar: The Way of Water” (20th Century Studios/Disney) “All Quiet on the Western Front” (Netflix) “Babylon” (Paramount) “Elvis” (Warner Bros.) “The Fabelmans” (Universal)

Best Makeup and Hairstyling “Elvis” (Warner Bros.) “The Batman” (Warner Bros.) “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever” (Marvel/Disney) “All Quiet on the Western Front” (Netflix) “The Whale” (A24)

Best Costume Design “Elvis” (Warner Bros.) “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever” (Marvel/Disney) “Everything Everywhere All at Once” (A24) “Babylon” (Paramount) “Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris” (Focus Features)

Best Sound “Top Gun: Maverick” (Paramount) “Elvis” (Warner Bros.) “Avatar: The Way of Water” (20th Century/Disney) “All Quiet on the Western Front” (Netflix) “The Batman” (Warner Bros.)

Best Original Song “Hold My Hand” — Lady Gaga (“Top Gun: Maverick”) “Lift Me Up”— Rihanna (“Black Panther: Wakanda Forever”) “Naatu Naatu”— Kaala Bhairava, M.M. Keeravani, and Rahul Sipligunj (“RRR”) “Applause”— Diane Warren (“Tell It Like a Woman”) “This Is a Life”— David Byrne, Ryan Lott, and Mitski (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”)

Best Original Score Justin Hurwitz (“Babylon”) John Williams (“The Fabelmans”) Volker Bertelmann (“All Quiet on the Western Front”) Carter Burwell (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Son Lux (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”)

Best Documentary Feature “All That Breathes” “All the Beauty and the Bloodshed” “Fire of Love” “A House Made of Splinters” “Navalny”

Best Documentary Short Subject “The Elephant Whisperers” “Haulout” “How Do You Measure a Year?” “The Martha Mitchell Effect” “Stranger at the Gate”

Best Live Action Short “An Irish Goodbye” “Ivalu” “Le Pupille” “Night Ride” “The Red Suitcase”

Best Animated Short “The Flying Sailor” “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” “Ice Merchants” “My Year of Dicks” “An Ostrich Told Me the World Is Fake and I Think I Believe It”

[babsisbakery]

A Lions fight part 2

Leah williamson x reader

The last group games were today. All or nothing. Qualification or “failure”. The ones who made it would celebrate, while other players' dreams would be crushed leaving them frustrated with their own performance, not happy of themself. But sometimes that's football. A big part of the game is to learn how to pick up the shattered hopes to build them back up. To not give up easily. Staying strong when tough times arise and having your teams back no matter what.

Currently, you and your girlfriend are in the stands. England vs Scotland while the Netherlands played Belgium. Of course you’d watch the Lionesses game live, your girlfriend is their captain after all. That didn’t prevent you from checking your phone every few minutes to check the score of the other match. Honestly you’d be content with either team qualifying, you had people on both teams to cheer on. Sadly they cannot both qualify. 

For the sake of your sanity your vote was slightly leaning towards England. Otherwise Leah could get insufferable with all her moaning and groaning, not the pleasant one which you induced. At the beginning she looks absolutely adorable, all huffing, puffing and pouting but when her never ending complaints start it can get irritating. The simplest way to upper her mood would be a nice bath. Wine in hand and her back pressed to your front. Praises softly whispered into her ear and feather light kisses pressed to her neck and cheeks.

As halftime arrived the odds seemed to be in England's favor, they were playing incredibly. Leah was beaming, I mean they still had to score a few more goals cause you were sure the oranje leeuwinnen weren’t done with one goal. But so far so good, your girlfriend knew the second half would be even more important but she still pulled you in for a kiss. Her smile couldn’t be wiped off her face. Her left arm was placed over your shoulders “Williamson suits you baby, wear it more often?” “Haa you wish my love, it will boost your ego more, it's big enough as it is.” a light giggle escapes your lips, kissing her cheek. “Ughhh you're cruel and my ego isn't that big.” she proceeds to wrap both her arms around you while your faces are inches away. “And here you are, in love with little ol cruel me, so that's on you Le.” “I wouldn't have it any other way, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me,” planting a tender kiss to your forehead, you sense a smirk forming on her lips “after the Euro’s win of course.” This statement earns her a slap to her upper arm “Leah!” “I’m kidding, I’m kidding baby.” due to her infectious laugh you can’t stay mad at her and laugh along.

Her demeanor changes pretty quickly. The second half isn’t as eventful as the first. They couldn't connect to their first half success, while the Netherlands were improving. After the regular 90 minutes it was looking good for England but a goal from Damaris soon followed. Everyone was on edge, Leah was seemingly worried. But Lucy came and told the dutchies to hold her purse and scored. People in the stand were going wild, surely this was it. England would be in the Olympics. An emotional rollercoaster coming to an end. Yet their joy didn't last long as Damaris surprisingly scored again. 

As the girls found out, most of them began to burst into tears. Leah too. She immediately seeked the comfort of your neck and hid there for a few minutes until she calmed down. She wasn't crying the whole time as Leah normally has her emotions under control but you provided her with calmness and safety which she desperately needed in this moment. You both proceeded to head to the pitch, to be with the others.

Of course that didn’t mean you weren’t happy for Viv or the other leeuwinnen. The sadness overflowed you tho. The lionesses were all down. That didn't leave you with much room to think of something else except to console them. Both teams held a special place in your heart. You couldn't bear to watch them wallow in self pity. If you could do anything, and you mean anything to bring even the littlest smile on their faces you would try. You went to each and every girl with Leah to hug them. To tell them how incredible they played. And yeah it may not have been good enough but that's not what they should be focusing on right now. Who am I kidding, that's exactly what we are looking at. But they won 6 to 0, what a massive win. You were so incredibly proud of the girls and so was Leah. She made sure everyone on the team knew. To not beat themself up.

Leah also realized that because they were missing this tournament they’d at least have the essential rest in the summer. Finally a break in players' arduous schedules.

[velocesainz]

Hii I saw you asked for ideas, it might sound weird but maybe a max x reader story about him falling in love with reader when hes with Kelly still and them breaking up and choosing reader? Idk fluff,smut whatever i would be interested no matter what😌

Sounds quite interesting, hope you enjoy!

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

We're meant to be

(MV33)

Summary: Max and y/n are co-workers and good friends. Max develops feelings for her while he is dating Kelly. What happens when Kelly finds out about Max's feelings?

Warnings: none, fluffy

Pairing: Max x driver!fem!reader

Third person POV:

Ever since y/n joined Red Bull racing, there had never been a single moment of sadness.

Y/n was loved by one and all. She was an icon in so many people's eyes.

Her and Max were the greatest duo the paddock had ever seen. Winning races upon races, most with a 1-2 finish with both alternating top position.

They were an odd pairing for sure. Fiery rage paired up with calm and collectedness? Unheard of.

Max POV:

I was walking around the paddock when I bumped into y/n who was holding a massive camera in her hands and interviewing people around her.

"Oh hey Max! Are you excited for today's race? Who do you think will win?" She asked me in her most 'formal' voice.

I chuckled and responded "I am quite excited for today's race, Belgium is like my second home. I would say I will win today but something tells me otherwise" I added that last line since she was looking at me as if she was going to murder me if I didn't say she would win.

"Thanks Max! Catch you later" was all she said before she skipped away happily.

God she's so beautiful. She's kind. It gives me butterflies.

Wait...

Am I...

In love?

I've never felt this with anyone, not even Kelly. I mean she's nice and all but I don't think she's the one for me.

How will I break the news to her? I'll have to figure out.

Kelly POV:

I was looking around for Max when I saw him talking to y/n, who was interviewing him by the looks of it.

After she left he kept staring at her and started blushing. Was he in love with her?

It wouldn't be very unlikely. He hasn't really been very affectionate lately and he's been spending more time with either her or Penelope.

I feel like he's falling out of love with me.

How can he recklessly fall in love like that? I'm his girlfriend!

I have to get him to stop interacting with y/n, otherwise I'll lose him. I need him for the money, I can't lose him at any cost.

Y/n POV:

I felt Max staring at me as I left or maybe i was imagining things. I am so madly in love with him I might be delusional, but he loves someone else.

I sigh and continue interviewing people as I was told by Martin Brundle who was trying to make a fun behind the scenes episode for sky sports.

Timeskip:

I got out of the car and stood proudly on top of my car, my 5th race win this season and I was officially in the lead in the drivers championship.

After podium celebrations I was making my way to my driver's room to relax for a bit before interviews when I heard some yelling coming from Max's room.

Being the curious person I was, I eavesdropped.

Max POV:

I was relaxing in my room after a decent race, P2 was a pretty good result.

Suddenly the door slammed open revealing my angry girlfriend, oh god this was going to be hell.

"Stop talking to y/n from this instant on." She said curtly.

"Who are you to tell me who I can talk to and who I can't huh?" I snapped back

"IM YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND. WHO IS LOOKING OUT FOR YOU! I SEE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT HER-" she screamed.

"WELL JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE MY GIRLFRIEND DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU GET TO CONTROL MY LIFE! AND YEA MAYBE I LIKE Y/N SO WHAT?" I yelled. This girl is getting on my nerves.

"SEE YOU ADMIT IT YOURSELF! YOU LIKE HER! EVEN WHEN YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! HOW SHAMELESS CAN YOU BE?" She continued

"You know what? I'm done. Done with this relationship. You've never been supportive ever. It's as if you're with me for my money and that it. So kindly get the fuck out, gold digger" I was so happy to get all the feelings against her off my chest.

She looked at me in disbelief and walked out.

Y/n walked in right after Kelly left. Did she hear the argument?

"Are you alright Max? That argument sounded intense" she asked with concern showing in her eyes

"Yeah. I'm alright. Did you..uhm hear what we argued about?" I questioned

"Uhm...yea" she replied shyly

God I loved this woman so much

I walked up to her and kissed her.

The world seemed to fade away. I had the woman of my dreams in my arms I was never going to let her go.

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader

Part 9 oooo couldn’t leave you guys hanging but I’ve been away the past week sorry for the long wait! No smut in this chapter, but pure tension and angst, mentions of heartbreak& sadness (obviously). Mentions of Panic attack.

After Daniel attends his first race back into AlphaTauri, she finds herself spending less and less time around him. She finds it necessary, but uncomfortably painful. When the two do bump into one another there’s, of course, a thick tension between the pair. Could things get anymore awkward? Possibly not, both of them know the feelings have not changed, and with Daniel’s previous admission out in the open, she’s tormented to the point of publicly breaking down.

After the most relentless few days had passed, y/n was awkwardly watching Daniel from the sidelines whilst he raced with Alpha Tauri. There was a semi relief/ semi disappointment that she was spending less time with him, a constant pain lingered deep in her chest and she felt as though somebody had sucked the life from her. She never believed she’d do the cliche thing of not eating, barely sleeping, crying into the pillow- but god, she was a wreck over a man she’d spent not even that much time with. To her, Daniel was the one that got away. Or- well, he wanted to…

She didn’t congratulate him after the race, she didn’t even see him, ensuring she was away from the grid the whole time. Her family picked up on it, so the next few days she endured the most awkward, tension filled appearance at a test drive, constantly on edge that Daniel would be around any corner. Of course he wasn’t. Daniel was just trying to keep his head focused on driving- his happy place. The minute he stepped out of the car he knew he’d be unconsciously searching for her, only for her not to be there. Maybe he would catch a glimpse at the back of her head, craning his neck to watch a little longer before she disappeared. She didn’t look good either. Not that she looked bad, but she looked tired, her lips were constantly tugged downwards and Daniel swore he hadn’t seen her smile in days. Truth be told he despised himself, what he did, what he said. He’d made a huge fucking mistake and now he wished all her pain would translate onto him- he wasn’t sure if he could carry anymore than what he was feeling, but he’d sure rather it be his pain than hers. On one mild Thursday in Belgium, she’d finally made an appearance with Kelly and P, down into the grid to have an explore. Kelly wasn’t stupid, she knew something was going on but couldn’t press. Y/n had always loved spending time with Penelope, practically seeing her grow up, so she was bound to put a smile on her face. And she did.

“Are you coming to my birthday?” The small girl questioned up, “I am.” Y/n smiled, “and I’ve got a surprise present for you as well.” She squeezed her hand as P giddily jumped around.

“Did you hear that, P, more presents?!” Kelly smiled down to her young one who bounced around excitedly. Y/n wished she could momentarily be that young and happy again- a depressing thought she quickly shook away, cringing at her dimness. At some point, she’d zoned out, not realising that Max and Daniel now stood right in front of them- her. Daniel, and her- fuck.

She could feel the gasp that got caught in her throat, trapping the lump that rose from her chest. Fuck. They shared not even a second of eye contact before she tore her eyes away, back onto the floor ahead of them. “You alright, y/n/n? I haven’t seen you in a few days.” Max spoke, giving her a quick hug. Daniel stood there awkwardly, the tension rising in his body as he fumbled with his hat, something he always did when he was nervous. “I’m good, are you.” Good. Ha, that was definitely a lie, she’d slept a grand total of 26 minutes last night, now she was running on absolutely nothing but water and a few bites of a sandwich she couldn’t bare to stomach. She offered no explanation of her absence, Daniel would know exactly where she was and why she’d been MIA.

“Great, yeah.” Max shuffled, feeling a little awkward at her clearly forced smile. Their conversation fell flat, unusually. Normally she’d be full of life and chatter, but now she just seemed to fall flat. Daniel’s eyes gazed over her, watching her with the saddest eyes as she hugged her jumper tighter around her frame. She seemed upset, blinking rapidly and breathing a little faster than normal. Daniel’s eyes constantly broke from the conversation between Max, Kelly and, P, onto the girl ahead of him.

Of course, she was having a breakdown mid conversation. Something as small as a picture of Daniel coming up made her tear up, now he was right in front of her, the devastation she’d been bottling up, mixed with the pure physical and mental exhaustion had caught up on her. She was working herself up beyond repair, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. Fuck.

“I’ll just be two minutes.” Deciding she couldn’t stay there much longer, she politely excused herself, rushing off into the distance. Space, now, and fast. Y/n felt the tears practically explode from her eyes and begin pouring her face as she hurried to find a bathroom. It was all very dramatic.

She wasn’t quick enough. Not when a voice came hurrying after her. Daniel knew he couldn’t just stand and watch her run away like that. It was his wrongdoing, and although chasing after her would probably only make things worse, he couldn’t leave her upset, he wanted to at least try.

“Y/n.” He sighed as she spun around, startled by the Australian voice. He was the last person she expected. “Daniel, I’m sorry, just-“ her hand waved in a gesture for him to leave as she struggled to blubber out anymore words. Her breathing was shallow and she could feel the furious racing over her heart against her chest. Not a panic attack. Fuck, she hated these things, how quickly she’d lost her breath, how panicked she felt, and now it was happening in front of Daniel.

“Hey, hey. Just breathe deep for me.” Daniel stepped closer, recognising her laboured breathing as a panic attack. It felt like he’d just been kicked in the gut watching her this distressed. She paused, attempting to soothe her breathing to stop the attack quicker than it started.

Unable to prevent it, he reached over, placing a hand on an upper back, a gentle gesture to provide the comfort she needed. She needed- but she didn’t want. “I’m- I’m fine, Daniel.” She gasped, the whimper in her tone not convincing as he watched down to her, his chest knotting harshly.

“You’re not. Just take a minute, it’s okay.” The soothing of his hand over her smaller back soothed her. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, feeling Daniel’s touch was the best thing she’d felt in days. Her lips blubbered as she wiped at her eyes desperately. There was a couple more moments of her shallow breathing, a minute, five minutes? She didn’t know, all she knew was that Daniel was right there, comforting her through something she’d regret later.

“Sorry.” She exhaled, slowing her breathing as much as she possibly could until she was in control over her body again. “Sorry.” She repeated, becoming aware of her surroundings. Her hand dropped from her forehead and everything became visible again. Daniel was there, he’d just seen her having a literal panic attack. Fuck.

“Don’t be sorry.” He looked so sad, so startled and concerned. She could hardly meet his eye. “Don’t be sorry, y/n, are you ok-“ before Daniel could even finish, she was assuring him, “I’m fine. I’m fine.” “You’re not…” Daniel sighed as she wiped at her teary eyes. “I’m sorry.” He then muttered, watching the downwards pull of her lips. “I’m so sorry…” she was crying now, properly, something Daniel couldn’t bare. He thought he might cry too as he blinked away harshly at the tears that filled his eyes. He wanted to give her a hug, but he thought that was overstepping a boundary completely.

“It’s fine.” She repeated, voice hitched and unconvincing. “I just- I need to go.” She waved into the distance. “Let me drive you back-“ “No. It’s fine.” She had already set off walking, stupid idea, walking through the unknown streets of Belgium with tear stains drenching her face. “Y/n, you’re not walking back alone.” Daniel put his foot down, sighing in a way she found it difficult to say no to.

The whole car ride back was silent apart from her occasional sniffle, it was awkward to say the least. Daniels chest was heavy with wanted conversation, with a need for her, but it just wasn’t the right time. He should’ve never told her he loved her, he knew he’d probably hurt her feelings way more by admitting that.

Pulling up outside the hotel, she couldn’t be quicker than to unbuckle her seatbelt, an odd sense of longing stabbing at her heart when she stole a singular glance at Daniel. It was the most she’d look at him all day. a

“Thank you, Daniel.” She whispered, his breath hitching as all he could do was watch her walk away. She could see the sadness in his eyes, but averted her gaze. The quicker she was out of that car, the quicker she could rid of those dread awful feelings she got around him. If only a girl could control her feelings, wouldn’t that be life changing, huh?

————————————————————————

@mccall-muffin @benbarneslut @dinodumbass @allabouthappiness @ricciardhoe-3 @headinthecloudssblog

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (2/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 2: Lights out, and away your feelings go!

Australia By mere luck, Toto had one of those sponsors' events in the afternoon, and he was wearing a Tom Ford tan suit with a white shirt, a classic ensemble, instead of his usual Mercedes kit.

And you, well, you looked so chic wearing a romantic Saint Laurent satin mini dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline paired with ribbon bowtie Jimmy Choo stilettos up to the occasion.

You wave Sam goodbye as she enters the car and returns to the hotel. And then Toto and you stay standing there, not knowing what to do next.

—So, at what time is the reservation? —Toto asks you.

—In two hours, it is downtown.

—Good. We are getting there on time, right?

—Oh yeah, we can go on my c... —You look at the empty space where your Lambo was parked - well, where Michael parked it, now empty and immediately take out your phone, shit! You left it on airplane mode. All messages and missed calls start to appear, red dots everywhere. Your assistant asked if you needed the car or if they had moved it to the hotel hours ago. Later, she sent the chauffeur to pick you up, but he couldn't reach you. He waited for you a long time and left.

—My team took my car, so...

—No worries. I can take us there.

"For sure you can!" you thought. Jesus, why were you so horny lately?

Toto then texts his chauffeur, and on your way, you two go; it was a quiet ride for a bit.

—So...

—So...

You both laugh at the back of the car.

—So our minds are connected, huh? —you joke, referring to your tendency to talk at the same time.

—It's becoming a bad habit, yes —Smiles. —I was going to ask you where have you been existing. Everyone close to me seems to know you, but they never mentioned it before; I feel left out; somehow, I have no idea who you are —Toto tells you.

—First of all, I take serious offense that neither Niki nor Sam mentioned me before; how dare they? And to answer your question in Belgium. I met Niki recently and Sam forever ago but she is pretty private so I guess that's why.

—Umh, I thought Sam and I had something special, but I'm calling it quits —Toto says. —She keeps secrets from me —putting on a fake sad face.

—Welcome to da' club. She's all Lewis's now.

-

Then, at the restaurant.

Toto and you were greeted by a blond supermodel-looking hostess who took you to your booked table. You entered the historical building - big old brown bricked walls, high ceilings with restored wooden beams, and dark marble tile floors - barely lit with just a couple of lights strategically placed reflected on the walls. The tables were small and intimate, and all the furniture was statement pieces - wooden carved and expensive textiles - the silverware and china were spectacular. The place was a printery back in the day, and it ended up in the middle of downtown and has now turned into a Michelin-starred restaurant.

The hostess acted extra caring with Toto, taking all the time to tenderly adjust his blindfold and explain every single step and detail of the dining experience. Since he couldn't see her, she went all handsy, relying on touch a bit much, and for obvious reasons, she tied your blindfold too tight. Really, girl?! Sorority like in where?

—So it's crucial for the experience when you give the food to each other, slowly savor the flavors and then start a conversation about each dish, what it made you feel, what reminded you of, what you thought it was, taking turns —she tells you two as she takes each your hand and makes you feel the space where a single plate full of finger food where to be placed - on top of a marble "lazy susan." —Please let me know if you need me —a lot of emphasis on "need me" and more addressed to Toto than you.

Wait, what?! Give each other the food?! What on earth?! You are so glad Toto isn't able to see you because, for sure, you are tomato red. Then you hear the hostess walk away.

—I frequent high-cuisine restaurants all over the world, yet I haven't dared with this one. It has so many mixed reviews —Toto tells you.

—I met the Chef at an auction gala for charity. He sat at our table and sold us the idea, which sounded exciting and intrigued me, so I told him I would stop by when in Melbourn —you add. He never mentioned that we had to feed each other during the experience.

A moment later, the dish arrived, and the experience began. Your hands were shaking a little bit. Your days went from ignoring Toto's bare existence to placing food into his mouth now.

—By all means, you go first —He offers you. Why did he have to be a gentleman?!

—Sure, thanks —You don't know where to start, so you pick a bite and stay there frozen when Toto notices it softly grabs your hand to guide you to his mouth to avoid you pocking him an eye with the food. Many "Oh god, oh god" fill your mind. You could sense him slowly biting the food from your fingers, his warm breaths on your skin, while hearing soft crunch noises.

He munches. And you wait, hand now resting on the table.

—Soft skin —he says.

—That is what it tasted you like?!

—No, of course not —Toto softly chuckles. —You have soft skin. The bite tasted like, amh, some sort of Gnocchi, but it wasn't. I'm not a big fan of this one and its flavor.

—So you like Italian cuisine?

—Everyone likes Italian cuisine, duh.

—Excuse you? That attitude, Sir! —you flirt, I mean, joke with him.

—Yes! I used to spend the summers in Italy with my family. It is a country that reminds me of my father. Cinque Terre has a special place in my heart.

—You miss your dad —You say before thinking, shit! Now he will assume that Sam and you gossip about him or think you Googled him. Shit! You are supposed to not know anything about him. Lol, if he knew. —It must be hard being away from family all the time with this busy schedule —Smart girl... Good save..?

He looks at you, a bit confused. —Ahm, yes. I miss my dad.

—Okay, it's my turn! —you shift topics quickly and naturally.

Toto picks up a small bite, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, guiding him to your mouth. Your thumb finger could feel his pulse, which weirdly relaxes you. You bite the food slowly, and your lips make a bit of contact, brushing the skin of his fingers.

—What does it taste you like? —he asks you. You try your best not to have dirty thoughts.

—Feet? God, this is awful —you answer while trying to chew the fucker.

Toto almost chokes on his water. Who calls feet a signature Michelin-star dish?

—I'm so hating this! I can't with pretentious places, to be honest. Uptight people are the worst!

—You tell me I live surrounded by those, but you will be fine. Why did you mention the uptight people?

—Send tips. Because there is no way an average person could have come up with this idea and this type of food! What are these flavors, honestly?!

—You are hilarious.

—Aw, thanks. What am I to you, a clown? Well, every circus needs one... I'm glad to help! Why do you keep laughing, stop!

—You are so right; F1 can be a circus! —Toto admits.

—So, what's your job at the F1 circus? No, seriously, don't laugh. TOTO STOP. Do you juggle or what? —You two keep reaching closer over and under the small table, knees now touching.

—Highly accurate! Or I could be that one guy on the tightrope! —He waves his arms.

—So meta. Listen, for us girls being the ones stereotypically called "catfight-ty," you guys...

—You have no idea! And it is just starting...

—Does the drama get too good? You are getting me excited! Don't play with my heart, Torger.

—I won't —Somehow, it sounds more profound and meaningful. Silence.

—Can we go back to the food, please? We are getting distracted from its delicious flavors —you say amidst giggles. —What? Don't you believe me? This dish is so good, "Latifi good".

Chuckles. Then you notice Toto left his right hand on top of yours this whole time.

With your free one, you pick up another portion. —Oh, you are going to love this one. Smells, uhm, so good. Wait for my soft hands to come closer —you tease Toto.

He loses it. People around you start judging you two; you are being "noisy."

—Why suddenly I don't want to open my mouth? I'm not helping you get there anymore. Find your way; if you miss it, then I'm so sorry.

—Oh, don't you worry, "Tots". I can always ask for more of these.

—Oh god, no.

The dining experience ended on the sixth small bite, thank Jesus. You two never walked out of a restaurant that fast, and none of you felt like staying to experience the drinks part, judging by the food.

But were in desperate need of refreshers. The night was now fully set, and the air was fresh. You two walk almost hand in hand on the sidewalk under the clear skies, choosing to explore the city, looking in the surroundings for a pub. You were lured by a very busy one - with live music - three drunk girls burst out of the door in a great mood, and it looked packed; then it must be good!

It was. —Do I ask to pour you a pint, too? Or are you on a diet or something? —Toto offers you on his way to get drinks. A great cover of "Your Love by The Outfield" played in the background. The singer had great vocals, and the guitarist was so talented.

—On a diet? God, no. I'm not that fit! Who gives that excuse? Who's that picky?

—There are people —Toto answers, a bit sad. You wonder if Sussie behaved like that. Of course, you don't dig.

While he goes on his mission, you find the last free table for yourselves. The place was what you pictured when someone said "pub". A classic, extensive wooden bar, tap beer, and tons of bottles on display. Small round tables, bar stools, and many empty frames hanging on the wooden panel walls mixed with art deco posters. It's nothing fancy but eclectic and cool.

As time passed, you two got drunk and the beers, too. You talked and talked and talked about everything. At least what you two wanted to share, obvious subjects were avoided. Toto didn't mention Sussie the whole time, and you chose not to reveal much about your "situation." The two of you formed a bond and had such chemistry none could explain. You were feeling so comfy with each other. He looked so happy and having a blast, and you were, too.

Then, the drinking contest started, and you sent your best knight to battle. You ended up sitting cross-legged on top of the bar with your short dress going up with your every move, surrounded by a group of people watching the spectacle - as well as the other couples of contestants - with Toto on his feet right next to you, resting one of his hands on your thighs. At the same time, you poured the beers directly into his mouth. The first one to finish a row of four pints with no pauses and successfully do "the loaded twirl" - four fast spins - then walk to ring the bell at the end of the counter - without falling - could leave not paying a penny, and win a cool metal medal too.

Toto sounded the bell first. And the place went fucking nuts.

By the end of your night out, you two couldn't even walk straight as you were being playful on the sidewalk on your way to meet your driver. At some point, you lost a heel while dancing, you knew how to move and rhythm was natural to you. Toto carried you around until a good soul gifted you his flip-flops; the poor unknown hero was so into you. Fantastic pubs and guys on flip-flops, thank you, Australia.

While rocking the stranger's flip-flops with your Saint Laurent mini dress, you were singing and throwing some moves on the street at the sound of "Notorious by Duran Duran" - it was the last song you heard the band played before leaving and got stuck in your head - it was around 4 a.m. by then.

Toto had his medal wrapped around his head, looking all stupid and hot. There is no sight of his suit jacket. He must have lost it when you took him to the bathroom - of course, you waited for him outside. He was too drunk to get there alone - or when you two started dancing, burning some of the alcohol in your systems.

There is something about him that makes you feel so many things, and you don't want the night to end. And you wanted to spend more time with him, listening to his voice, hearing his laugh, looking at his eyes, having his body near yours. You find him so attractive.

—I don't remember the last time I had this much fun; it must have been ages ago! —he says, way too loud and drunk.

—Me too! We should do this again! Are you sure it's here? —you reply, looking around. No cars in sight.

—Yes! I'm not that drunk. Here is where the pin marks —he says, looking too closely into his phone. His nose almost touched the screen, looking at the map.

—Let me see.

—Nein —He raises his phone, extending his arm, placing it out of your reach. You jump to grab it, failing miserably. You ended up bumping him instead. Balance isn't a thing for any of you at the moment. And you both get closer. At some point in the night, you two started to behave like magnets, unable to keep away from each other, all handsy. Toto places a hand on your lower back to steady you.

You aren't sure if the sensation you are feeling is the alcohol in your system or the butterflies in your stomach.

—You are so carefree. Zero pretentious. So fun. So captivating, so... —Toto says in such a dangerous voice, staring at your lips with his fingers, placing your hair behind your ear.

You two get closer.

—So..? —You beg him to continue, staring at his lips too. You take the lead and start closing the distance between you.

It's been a while since either of you had sex in your lives.

Or love.

He looks at you with desire and affection but without moving an inch. Then Toto decides to take a step back.

That distance feels like miles, and the car arrives. Ending an almost perfect night.

You feel ashamed since you overstepped and carried yourself away. None of you mentioned what just happened on the ride back to the hotel.

-

Spending time with you starts to feel like a necessity to him now.

Toto is standing there, left shoulder leaning against the bar wall near where the band is playing, sipping his beer, watching you dance with some strangers, glowing and smiling, and having fun among those girls while he admires your curves and body movements. You have the magic to make him forget about the rest of the world, its people, and its problems. Going out with you tonight felt like healing, like self-care. 

After days of being heartbroken, Toto called things off with Sussie, which was not an easy choice. She was the love of his life, or so he thought, and after spending a significant portion of your life with someone, saying goodbye to that person is never easy.

Even if tonight was great and felt like a lucid dream, he couldn't escape reality forever. This Cinderella story had an end.

Of course, he notices the way you look at him. The attention you pay to his every word, your excitement every time you make him smile, or how you lean closer to his touch whenever the two of you make accidental - or not - contact.

But he wasn't ready for you. Of course, he would love to make a move and enjoy the whole of you, explore your every corner, trace your hips with his hands, and feel your body beneath his, making you release sounds he would love to hear. He wanted to fuck you badly, but you weren't just for a one-night stand.

You deserved someone who could fully admire you. That worshiped you. And Toto wasn't able to be that guy at the moment. He felt wounded and needed time for himself.

So, when you had the courage he lacked to make the move, knowing that if he accepted that kiss, you would wake up tangled in his sheets, he stepped back.

Seeing your surprised, embarrassed, and hurt reaction spiraled him into coming days of somber mood and turned into a quiet ride back to the hotel.

-

Once you reach your destination, the driver opens the car door for you, and you step out of it, praying your balance has returned. After that fiasco ending of the night, all the alcohol in your system seems to have evaporated thanks to that emotional gut punch Toto gave. You glimpse Toto catching your step, walking now as normal as you.

You two may be walking seemly normal now but your looks scream drunks, loud and clear! - messy hair and clothes, not to mention your flip flops, a thing that made you smile as you remembered the now distant memory - as you passed by a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the way to the elevators.

The bellboy pushes the buttons to open the elevator doors for you.

—On which floor is your room? —he asks.

—Oh, no, we aren't...

—Eleven —you answer a little deadpan, interrupting Toto.

—Fourteen —he mumbles.

As you two go up, you start saying goodbye, also wanting to cut the tension a bit. —It was a fun night, "Tots"! My liver may disagree, but we'll see —you smile.

—Yeah, yeah, it was, except for that horrid food —he replies.

—Let's not, let's bury that part.

He nods with a small smile. The door opens on your floor. You smile at him one last time and head out.

Toto wants to say, "Wait!" or follow you down that corridor, inviting himself to your room and bed, but instead, he remains just standing there, and the elevator goes up.

-

You take your time to walk down the corridor, hoping there is still a chance, till you hear the sound of the elevator's doors closing and following it, total silence, no footsteps, no movement. So you let out a sigh and get inside your room.

You are left facing a feeling of emptiness and solitude as you walk across the empty and dark suite with your surviving heel in hand, and then you toss it across the room on the carpet. You enter the shower and start washing your make-up and body off, letting your mind wander to the idea that the two of you could be there right now.

So, a bit defeated by not having Toto's naked and wet body before you, you send yourself to bed, struggling to fall asleep and shut down your brain; after a while, you feel yourself drifting away in the arms of Morfeo - and sadly not Toto's.

-

—He thinks I'm captivating and have soft hands —you say while giggling like a teenager, adding sugar to your Chai at the end of the counter. Already in a better mood, trying to look at the bright side of things.

—Soft hands??? —Sam replies, making a silly face and grabbing a napkin.

You two meet on your way to get Starbucks, located two buildings away from the hotel. You are still hungover and need fuel before stepping into the paddock.

—You know, never mind. I don't want to know —Sam adds, biting her bagel.

—Oh, wait. No. Nothing like that happened —you wave your hands in concern.

—Calm down; you know he and Sussie are in the middle of a time-off. Nothing wrong if it had happened. He has been in such awful moods lately that I think he needs it to happen. This time, their breakup seems real.

—Really!?

—Can you at least don't sound that excited? Oh god, you are smiling. I hate love —Sam sips her black coffee, rolling her eyes at you.

—Leave me live my fantasy, alright? —praying sign, you joke.

—Now you will be all weird around him, won't you?

—Nooo, well, maybe a little. What? Like you don't ship us.

—Puff —Sam lets out.

—Oh, you fed me way too many details about him for years and set us up last night just because, huh?

—Okay. Fair. I sold you the idea. Am I clever, or what? Listen, I care about you two a lot, and frankly, I think you are great for each other.

—Ooh, so Sam Dobrev has a heart.

—Shut up! Please don't make me regret it —she replies, all done with life.

-

—Hi, big guy —Sam pops her head inside Toto's office, simultaneously knocking on the open door.

—You owe me one —Toto answers deadpan. Concentrated, looking straight at his iPad, not bothering to look at her.

—Why?

—That restaurant you made me go to was horrible.

—Well, I didn't pick the place, so no whines to me, but at least the company was fantastic, right?

—Umhju —Toto mutters, still looking at the screen. Then silence.

Sam interprets that answer as I'm not telling you anything else.

—Since you are here trying to gossip. Aren't you busy? If you have free time, you could help me with several things.

—Jeez, that mood. I'm not here to gossip. Here, sign this. Niki needs it.

Toto reads the paper Sam just gave him and picks up his phone. —I need to make a call. Would you mind closing the door on your way out? Thank you.

—Okay —Sam answers slowly and exaggerates the "O" while doing what was asked. Even she knows messing with a somber Toto wasn't a good idea.

Unfortunately for you, no gossip or insights of your night out were obtained from Toto.

-

It was a Grand Prix victory for Lewis. And a third place for Mick, but since it was his first podium, you guys celebrated as if he had just won the race. Sadly, Millie got pulled out of the track for a technical issue with the car.

You were hoping to chitchat with Toto at the podium ceremony, make him laugh a little, and watch his beautiful smile. Well, you hoped that the entire day, actually. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Until you spotted him in the distance, there was no casual way to start a conversation with him that way, and you didn't want to be perceived as pushy or desperate going straight to him. So you let the idea die. There was no rush.

If something was meant to be, it will happen without forcing things.

Right?

-

Azerbaijan

On the paddock in Baku, Toto chose to behave the opposite of that night in Melbourne. Serious, professional, and borderline unfriendly - but still polite.

That caught you off guard, and it was so confusing. After spending that great time together, you thought you two were on your path to becoming friends or more if luck was on your side. You didn't get the sudden change, and it was a bit hurtful when you went to say hi to him - all warm and smiling - and he gave the cold shoulder with a blunt "Good morning" and kept on walking.

You stood there looking a bit stupid, wondering if you did something to bother him or if he was acting Austrian. Maybe Toto was feeling really uncomfortable by how you approached him at the end of that night. Damn, drunk you!

But then, a couple of hours later:

"Unknown" is typing...

—Darci told me you left your office to have lunch. But I'm here outside your hospitality and don't see you - Toto.

Your assistant gave him your number. —Hi!!! Yes, I'm here having lunch.

—Where? I'm wearing my good glasses, and I'm sure you are not that bald guy eating a salad.

—Sandro is a very nice guy. Look up, grandpa!

—The rooftop? What are you, a pigeon?

No joke in reply, just an honest: —I like the view from here. It's peaceful! Bonus points for being private. No one bothers me here or intrudes. It's my secret special place. Do you want to join?

Toto finishes climbing the ladder and goes to greet you, kissing you on the cheek. As he does so, a crazy thought crosses your mind: What if you turn your head? Is stealing a kiss considered harassment? But you don't.

You two share your homemade Yakimeshi - you love cooking even if you have a private Chef, and you are damn good at it, well, according to everyone that has eaten your food, so you ask the hotel to get you the fresh ingredients you need - while talking about the day, sharing ideas, throwing shade, and enjoying each other's presence.

—What a diva! —you reply, grabbing a portion with your chopsticks.

—I know. I expected better, but engineers... you know —Toto shrugs.

—Ye! —you agree. Sometimes, they acted, well, a little bit challenging.

Toto was acting so relaxed and casual as you expected him to be, and not what was going on in the morning. You wonder so badly why there is a change in ways, but you don't dare to ask.

"What if he has bipolar disorder?" a question that came to your mind at some desperate point during your day. Not that there was something wrong with that.

The sun is setting, and you two enjoy the view, sitting next to each other - no space in between - He places his arm around you, palm resting next to your left hand, but without making physical contact.

This becomes a routine for you two, lunching together on the rooftop of the W hospitality, away from the rest of the world, in your private little bubble. It becomes your favorite moment of the day. And Toto's, too, even if he swore he would never like routine.

-

Miami

—Excuse me, excuse me, how did the tire taste you like? —you tease a very solemn Lewis walking past you on the paddock while you pretend to hold an invisible mic at his face, acting like a reporter. An instant smile forms on his lips.

—Roscoe attack! —Lewis commands.

Roscoe stares at him for a second and then wanders to sniff a palm tree, not caring.

—I think your trick didn't work —you get closer to greet him with a hug.

—He is too lazy for that —he tells you while embracing you.

—You are too cute; don't listen to that man! —you say with a silly voice, addressing Roscoe, letting Lewis go, and flexing to pet the dog, rubbing around his ears, which Roscoe seems to enjoy.

It was a Qualy of hell for Mercedes. Lewis's car's back tire flew out into the air before bouncing on a safety barrier at speed, almost hitting him back. Plus, George's car ended up in the gravel after losing power.

In contrast, Williams did great. Mick was one with the car, achieving the day's fastest lap.

—Feeling better, sweetie? —you ask Lewis with honest concern, after seeing the incident unfold and how he made it out of the car really distraught.

Although you must admit that even though that whole thing wasn't funny, the memes were pure gold, so you texted Toto your pick: the one where the tire hit the space station with a photoshopped explosion, the one with Lewis's face photoshopped on a baseball player hitting a home run, but instead of the ball it was the tire and your favorite, the one with photoshopped Toto, Lewis, and George riding the tire to the sky.

—Yeah. I'm good. A positive mindset always helps, thanks.

—I think I just saw you kicking, crying, and screaming in the bathroom, Mr. Positive Mind Set —Sam joins the conversation, teasing him.

—HA HA

—So, what's the plan for tonight-A? —she asks.

—Noone human says tonight like that. Not even Michael Jackson on drugs —you tell Sam.

—We are in Miami, chica! Aren't we clubbing?! —she replies.

—Are you high?

—I will if we go out...

—You realize we are here for work, right? —Lewis asks her.

—Like we haven't done it before. What's the worst that could happen? Toto finding out? You losing the race? Toto, finding out you lost the race because you went out clubbing with us?

—Yes! —you all answer at the same time. —To all of that —you add.

—Well, not if Toto comes with us...

Lewis starts laughing like a madman. —Sam, are you suggesting convincing Toto to go clubbing with us the night before the race so he doesn't get mad if he finds out we went clubbing?

—I got lost, mate —George arrives, earing that last part, trying to figure out what the hell.

—Well, I'll not be convincing him. Y/N is.

—ME?!

—If you really love me, you will —Sam pushes you toward the Mercedes' motorhome.

Gaslighting a bit much?

-

How am I supposed to do this? I'm going to sound so unprofessional. Although, technically, you two went out pub-ing?? and got drunk the night before the race in Australia. Okay, that made-up word sounds terrible; let's never use it again, so there may be a slight chance to relive that.

At least you needed to practice your words before going in there since "Hi, Toto, wanna go clubbing?" wasn't an option but destiny was a bitch; you two crossed paths before you had the opportunity to rehearse. Toto was on his way back to his office; he left his badge access on his desk. He seemed surprised to see you there; you were far away from the Williams' grounds. So you are forced to improvise.

—Are you looking for Sam?

—No, not really, not this time.

—Oh. Niki?

—Nope.

—Lewis?

—You.

Toto was now standing right before you with his hands in his pockets, all tall and handsome. You liked him even more when he wore his reading glasses.

You start a bit shy; Toto has a powerful presence. —I heard Miami has excellent places, and because last time I made you join me for that awful dining experience, I thought maybe we could go out and have a good time but in a better establishment.

—Tonight?

He sounds slightly judgy. You go on: —I was talking with the guys, and they mentioned "Floyd." It sounds great...

—The guys?

—Sam and Lewis, and George...

—Ooh, they sent you? Sam!

Oh boy.

—The cocktails sound goo...

—I'm not taking my drivers drinking or to a nightclub before the race or allowing it. It's ridiculous —Toto interrupts you again.

You look at him, now slightly nervous and bummed out.

—None of us is going; it's not happening —Toto adds firmly.

Yeah... He was a pro at the top of his game. Of course, he cared about discipline, mindsets, and winning races and titles; what were you thinking?!

You nod apologetically. Your eyes look a bit sad, well, because... You don't need to explain why. Just start turning around to head back and tell them the news.

—Wait! We could go to "Basement", which has a bowling alley and a DJ. But no drinking! Not even a drop for anyone; we must return to the hotel at a reasonable hour. Do you like that? That makes you happy?

—Sounds perfect to me —your smile is big and bright. Did Toto change his mind to please me?

-

To make things even, you end up bringing Millie and Mick. You wanted to make clear you weren't playing unfair tactics with your opponents. You earnestly desired to spend a good time with the people you began to care about.

The place was all for yourselves. It was a club slash bowling alley with colorful neon lights reflecting on the lanes, varying intensities and colors to the DJ's beats. It was a dope place.

Lewis invites Seb. They two took bowling seriously and had a years-long competition. They show you a list of their scores on Lewis's iPhone going back to the dark ages.

Bono also shows up, and Carlos and Lando, too, God knows how.

Lando starts stretching right in front of you, warming up, and making eye contact with you while doing his poses in a bit too sexual and exaggerated way. Samanta and you start laughing at him for acting all idiot. You two sit on the bowling benches while drinking Coke and eating popcorn.

—Every group needs a slut —you tell Lando.

—I don't think you are impressing her, man —Carlos joins, watching the spectacle, on his feet.

—It reminds me of when little children warm up before jumping into the pool —you kill Lando with your words.

—You have never seen legs like this —he tells you, overconfident. All of you laugh. —But, I will fight for your heart, malady. Is there another knight brave enough to face me in a bowling fight to the death?

—But what's the prize?! —Seb screams across all lanes.

—A NIGHT with the princess —Lando claims.

—Keep dreaming, sweetie —you reply.

—A KISS from the princess —he backtracks.

—Fine! Everyone, write your names here! —Sam takes a Post-it and a pen out of her purse - an assistant's habit - and passes them around.

—WHAT?! What are you doing?

Sam starts folding the papers and mixing them up. —The council calls Sir Hamilton to the pit!! Please choose your horse and weapon for the fight (lane and bowling ball) —Sam reads Lewis's name from the paper she picks up, and then she selects another one. —Warrior Dobrev to the fight! —cheers are heard, and Mick and Carlos pat Millie on the arm and back; Vettel massages her shoulders when she stands by her approach area. —Knight Wolff to the pit! And last but not least, Warrior Bonnington, too! —there were only five lanes. —You all brave souls are to fight buffoon Norris for a kiss of the Lady. Lord Vettel and I will oversee the combat.

—Hey! —Lando complains, pouting. Then, George starts motivating him, and they start making stupid grunts and jumps before the bowling round begins.

—The battle commences now! —Sam calls.

—You really need to stop watching House of the Dragon —you tell her.

—It's official: Bono is the worst player I have seen —Vettel interrupts, watching Bono be the first to get disqualified. —Is it okay if I leave you a second? If I don't go and bother Lewis every time to time, I get anxious —Sebastian sweetly tells you.

—Go, honey —You pat his hand and let him go. You two were watching the competition unfold together.

Lando, Lewis, and Toto were really good at it, but Millie was in a league of her own.

—How can someone so tiny have such a steady grip? —Lewis tells her she was in the lane next to his.

—Lew, I gladly would share with you all my secrets if I wasn't determined to win this —Millie replies.

—So you really want to kiss her? —he is curious, and a little smile forms on his lips.

—Look at Y/N, I wouldn't mind, but I don't want to. I think all five of us here hate losing... or love winning. Well, except for Lando, I believe he truly wants to kiss her.

"Not just him," Lewis thinks, looking in Toto's direction. After years of being teammates, he could read him like a book. It isn't just Sussie who has him shifting moods. Since you appeared, Toto began to act all weird. When Lewis noticed the looks you both exchanged, everything made sense to him.

And another fantastic strike from Lando.

Millie was almost right. Lewis loves winning and hates losing, but not when friends or feelings are in the middle. A lesson Sebastian taught him. So Lewis prepares and throws the worst shot he has ever made. His bowling ball bounces, hits the gutters, and invades the next lane, instantly disqualifying him.

Hisses and laughs fill the room. Lewis turns around, shrugs, smiles, and goes to take a seat. A minute later, he feels a thumb rubs his neck, caressing it. —Sir Hamilton, my good Sir, you sure are an honorable and respectable fellow —Sebastian tells him with his best Shakespearean voice.

—Stop talking like that, please.

—It doesn't please you how this low-grade peasant talks, good Sir?

The face Lewis gives him is priceless. Vettel laughs, and Lewis slides closer to him on the bench.

A loud "AAARGGH" comes from Lando as he dramatically throws himself to the floor. Wooff, what an awful shot.

—Luck next time, Lando! —Sam teases him as Carlos and George pass by, carrying him to the benches, one grabbing him by the legs and the other by the arms. Out of the competition, he was.

Now, it was a Dobrev vs. Wolff clash.

—Make our house name proud, niece! —Sam yells at her.

—You are having too much fun, aren't you? —you tell her.

—Sorry —Sam covers her face with her hands, monkey emoji-like. —Your knight made it to the final. Good for you, girl, but Millie is ruthless, so...

—I know! I can't watch any more. I'm too nervous! I feel like I will puke if Toto wins or if he loses.

—...she misses.

—WHAT?!

Okay, okay, this wasn't happening. Oh God. Sam turns to you and gives you a smile The Grinch will envy.

—Knight Wolff wins the battle! And takes the princess! —Sam announces. You shoot her a dead glare. —...'s kiss

Cheers are heard. Then everyone gets on their feet and starts chatting and bowling. Laughs and mocktails fill the room.

You pass Lando, still lying on the bench, on your way to get a drink. Now you need tequila in your system. —Oh, I'm so wounded! Only a kiss on the lips would heal me —he tries, offering his arms to you. The kid has the material to be an actor.

—Carlos!! Lando needs you!! —you joke back in answer, smiling at him. Lando gets on his feet in less than a second. —All good, I feel better! —he tells you, chuckling.

Toto is there when you reach the bar, sipping a whiskey on the rocks. —Not a drop of alcohol, you said? —you mock him.

—And you are here to ask for a Coke, right? —he teases you.

—A Paloma, please —you ask the bartender. —You could be a professional bowling player —Please let that become a meme, you think, and an image of a Toto in a complete bowling outfit surrounded by a group of senior citizens with white hair comes to mind.

—You picture it; that's why you are smiling.

—Nooo...

He arches an eyebrow.

—Fine. I admit it! —you sit on the bar stool next to him and rest an elbow on the bar counter, smiling like an idiot and gazing at Toto until he notices it and gets on his feet. 

—I haven't seen you play, let's go! —he tells you.

—Oh, if this really were the old ages and it was me who had to fight for your hand, consider yourself single for the rest of your life...

-

You all arrive together at the hotel and walk inside the lobby, making a lot of noise.

—Shuusshh!! Zack doesn't know I'm not in my room! —Lando whispers, looking around.

—Sure, he is hiding behind that plant, Lando. That old fart is so fucking asleep in his bed, mate! Calm down! —Vettel adds.

—Hey! You haven't kissed Toto yet —Lewis recalls and addresses you.

—Right! Give him his prize! —Mick adds.

You feel your cheeks turning red. —Are you all going to stare and make it all weird?

—YES! —everyone answers.

—You guys suck! —you complain, pretending to be annoyed at them.

—Not as much as I would like to. WHO SAID THAT?! —Millie dirty jokes, looking around.

—Millie Alexandria Dobrev! —Sam shouts, shocked. —I can't believe you...

Between giggles and two Croatians fighting in the background, you kiss Toto for the first time.

With your left hand, wrap Toto's bicep and rest your right on his chest as you reach his lips on your tiptoes. The kiss is brief, delicate, more like a brush of lips, but it is enough to make the butterflies in your stomach go wild and to still be on cloud nine when you reach your room.

-

Monaco

You were so excited to be officially living in Monaco. It was your first week there, and you had never lived on your own before. And since Sam also resided there, you spent lots of time together. You two were enjoying the break and touring the city around.

Miami went terrific, and that kiss still made rounds on your head.

Sam and you were walking in the area close to your new place when you turned the corner and were greeted by this scene: A furious Monegasque girl screaming at the top of her lungs in French words that did not sound nice at all and throwing objects out the window while a man on the street was trying to picking them up and reason with said girl. Some people were staring, and others were rushing to pass by.

—Is that Charles?! —Samanta asks you, stunned, pointing to the guy crouched and picking up what looked like a pair of Jordan's.

Yeah, that was Charles Leclerc. You two look at each other concerned and rush to help.

—Hi —Sam shouts among the screams in French.

—Oh, hey, Sam —Charles looks pretty embarrassed.

You quickly offer him the almost empty tote bag you were carrying and speed walk to grab an open, worn-out cardboard box from the greengrocery next door. The three of you start getting his things inside while avoiding getting hit by the last objects thrown out.

—Thank you —he says to you. —My girlfriend went mental.

All of you hear a loud bang and look up; she shuts the windows dramatically. "More like ex-girlfriend now" you think.

—Merde —you hear Charles say. —My keys and wallet are inside there, fuck!

You can't avoid feeling bad for the guy. He looks so done with life right now.

—Ahm, Charles, if you want to join us, we are grabbing lunch. We can grab some cocktails, too; I'll treat you guys. You seem in desperate need of alcohol and a chat.

—You're right, I need alcohol, thank you. I would love to.

The three of you walk your way to a restaurant Charles loves. It was pricey, but you agreed to let him pick the place since you were spoiling him and trying to lift his spirits.

—Huff, why are all the streets in Monaco inclined? —you complain after climbing the fourth hundred stairs of the day. —On the bright side, tho, I just need to live here to skip leg day at the gym.

Charles laughs. That's good!

The face the hostess makes when you three arrive and place the second-hand cardboard box with Charles's things on the fancy counter - clothes, some books, sneakers, a Funko Pop of Charles himself for some reason, and what looks like Xbox controllers, a man's most prized possession - makes it worth it almost losing your legs to get there.

—Good evening. Table for three? Right this way. Terrace, as usual, Mr. Leclerc? —she asks.

—Yes, please.

You are led to your table. It was a sea-inspired high-cuisine restaurant. The ceiling of the place had a breathtaking art installation: A whale made from bamboo wind chimes. —The waiter is on his way; here is the food and mixology carte —she offers you. It takes you a long time to read the entire selection.

—Ask for whatever you guys want; the check is on me. Don't hold back —you offer them.

—Great, then! It would be two spritzes instead of one, please! —Sam gestures with her fingers at the waiter, who is already taking your order. Sam seems so happy and excited; for someone who grew up that rich, she loves getting stuff for free.

—I would like a Tequila and Tonic with two tequila shots, please —you finally choose.

—A margarita and two shots of tequila for me. To start —Charles orders.

The drinks arrive quickly. At the same time, you hear everything about Charles' toxic relationship, giving him the space to spit it all out; as more alcohol makes it to the table, the more details you get.

After a good couple of hours of free therapy, high cuisine, drinks, relationship advice, and tragic love stories, it got dark.

—Well, it was a damn good chat! I'm glad we were able to help you, my friend. But we better go —Sam says to Charles. —I'm walking you back to your place —she addresses you. —I have to wake up early tomorrow. Toto wants me to join the Mercedes' Zoom call at 7 a.m., and I don't want to see his annoying, angry face at me.

The thought of an angry Toto makes you bite hard the tiny chocolate cake you are eating as dessert.

—Oh, no worries! It's just all the way down the street; I will get there without problems —you say while savoring the remains of your cake.

—Are you sure? —She inquires. You forgot how protective of you Samanta was, even if she was younger than you.

—Yeah, go, go. It's never a good idea to make an Austrian guy angry —You joke.

Charles choked on his drink, laughing. —Sweet Lord.

Sam giggles, hugs you two goodbye and waits for her Uber.

—It's late, I'll walk you. There are plenty of good hotels near your building and the marina; since I'm not going home, I need to book a room —Charles mentions.

—If you don't mind, you can crash at my place; there's not much furniture yet, but you are welcome to stay —you tell Charles. He seems relieved.

Charles sees what you meant with "not much" - just a small table with no chairs, one kitchen counter stool, a mattress in the bedroom, another on the living room floor, and some boxes, making the place look way bigger - as you two enter your apartment.

—I just got the keys —you excuse yourself.

—Oh wow, this view reminds me of my grandparents' apartment view from growing up —He reaches the balcony fast. —Oh, look, you can see the old side of Monaco from here! Good memories! —He ignores your comment, not caring much about the furniture or decor.

He seems in a better mood than before.

—Well, let me know if you need anything. Sleep well! —you say, on your way to your bedroom.

—Thank you, good night!

You hear noises outside your bedroom's open doors a few minutes later. Charles moves his mattress nearer the plug on the wall and connects the charger you lent him to his phone. With that change in the arrangement, you are both placed facing each other in different rooms and with distance in between.

Since none of you seemed able to fall asleep that night, you better keep chatting, each of you resting your back against the wall, relaxing, and him crossing his arms behind his head.

—So you are besties with Sam?

—Yes, she was one of the first people I met when I arrived in Belgium —you answer and look out of your bedroom's massive floor-to-ceiling window to the beautiful sea and the tiny-looking lights of Monaco. He stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

—So, how was growing up here? —You ask him and were sincerely curious but also want to switch the subject of conversation from you to him.

He tells many anecdotes of his childhood and buzz about some of the high society Monegasque families. He seems to enjoy gossip, and you are here for it.

Until you feel your eyes shutting down and fall asleep with the sound of his voice.

-

Two weeks later, Charles was still staying at your place; there was no furniture yet, however. By the third week, you arrive home, and all of Charles' things are filling the space. He moved "his bed" to one of the guest bedrooms and packed the living room with boxes. His piano starts serving you two at your dining "table." You always ate there, sitting, standing, taking turns: breakfast, Charles, lunch, you, etc.

He is just one box away from officially becoming your roommate. Of course, you don't mind. After many years of feeling alone, you desperately needed a friend and its company.

Charles' wireless speaker is the most significant addition to the apartment; it was never turned off, both of you being obsessive music maniacs, constantly introducing new music and artists to each other.

It is your turn to pick a song, and you want to lift the spirits while unpacking boxes and arranging things, so you turn the volume all up and hit play. Bad Bunny's "Yo perreo sola" started blasting.

You start singing and dancing to the beat, shaking it, and then Charles joins you in the chorus, singing the lyrics perfectly and throwing some great dance moves. You two start twerking.

—You know this song? Wait, you speak Spanish?! —you ask loudly, almost screaming. The music is so loud.

—My mom is Colombian. Didn't I mention that? My dad is the Monegasque one. I know my reggaeton and merengues by heart —he screams back. —I know all the good clubs in the city with this type of music, we should go and dance our asses off.

—Oh, for sure we are!

Another level of friendship is unlocked.

-

The three of you are inseparable. It is the weekend, and Charles took you and Sam on his boat sailing to an excellent spot to take a swim. Coronas, good music, sun, and fresh water fill your day.

You came up with a competition to see who jumped out of the boat the funniest way because you three were dumb. Charles wins by jumping and agitating his arms and legs like an old cartoon falling or very Gaga at the Super Bowl. Your stomach hurts from laughing, and your face from smiling.

After that, you all lay flat on your stomachs like iguanas under the sun, getting tan atop the boat; you don't remember a day nearby when you felt so happy. You felt at home with those two by your side.

-

It was around 4 a.m. and pitch black when Charles was suddenly awakened by sorrowful sounds coming from your bedroom.

He rushes and quickly opens the door, not caring to knock. He finds you crying, curled in your bed; you look like a total mess with red eyes, messy hair, and softly shaking, and Charles reacts like a headless chicken, pacing frantically around the room before getting to his senses and starting supporting a very troubled you.

—I got an idea that could help you feel better! —he tells you.

—Yeah?

—You trust me?

You nod.

—Let's go! —he offers you his hand and leads you out.

You take the lift to the basement parking lot, where Charles' Ferrari is all poorly and crocked parked outside lines of your apartment's parking spaces - that man was a great driver but terrible at parking - next to it is his powerful Ducati Panigale black motorbike is waiting for you.

Soon, you two are on his bike, crossing the streets of Monaco at full speed. Getting further away from the city and into the road. You tightly wrap your arms around him as he tells you you are entering the highway, and he begins to speed, pushing the bike's engine.

You could feel the fresh nightly ocean breeze hitting your body and entering your pores, every time more violently as you moved and Charles kept speeding up. You could see the full moon reflecting on the ocean waters. It was a clear night, with no stars in sight.

You love the rush and adrenaline of this speed ride. Charles speeds even more, and you hear the violent roar of the motor, the bike reaching its maximum. Then, in that brief moment, you get why all drivers are passionate about F1. Now you get it. Your sad tears become happy ones. You have never experienced something like this before, and it makes you feel so alive. The air feels so cold and harsh at the speed you are going that you almost feel it cutting your skin. It is a sensational feeling.

Charles then starts to slow down till he parks the bike and turns the engine off, helping you get on your feet, and you two lay on the grass after arriving at the destination.

—What a view! —you let out. The two of you are far away from the city, and you can see Monaco at the distance from the cliff you are on top of.

—This is my secret spot. I have been coming here since I was young when I felt I needed to clear my mind or wanted to escape everything. This view humbles you and calms you down at the same time —Charles confesses.

—Thanks for sharing it with me —you say to him, extremely grateful.

—It's the least I can do.

You can hear the waves hitting the cliff rock below you, and you admire the infinite ocean in front of you. The two of you sat there for a long time.

—Whenever you feel ready to talk about it. To open up about your past, who you are, or why you cried tonight, I will be here to listen —Charles offers you, breaking the comfortable silence. He is a kind and sweet person, a good person. And you aren't used to that.

He places his hand on top of yours just briefly, and you feel so happy to have a friend, to have him, no love feelings, no desire in between, just genuine friendship and honest support. 

He deserves the truth, and you want to let him know, but you are afraid of the repercussions. You don't want to get judged or, worse, to lose him.

-

Charles has been paying attention to you these past weeks and has noticed how you avoid or change subjects whenever your past or private life gets mentioned.

Every day that passes, he gets to know you more. It is just a matter of time before the truth comes out.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

[ctitan98official]

Mother Miranda angst drabble

When you had first met Miranda she was a beautiful, thriving young mother with a lovely daughter named Eva… Tragedy strikes and Miranda changes… A lot. (This one made me legit sad for a second)

TW/CW: Mentions of suicidal ideation, child death, and slight gore. Please be safe and take care of yourself.

August, 10th - September, 13th 1914

You had been traveling through Eastern Europe on a solo trip to research various plants and their medicinal properties. The Great War had broken out just one month prior and you had volunteered to join the medical corps. You were desperate to find anything that could help your country and its allies heal their wounded. You happened across a small farming village in a remote part of Romania. You were relieved to see that it had remained untouched by the destruction of war. Some of the towns that you had passed on your journey were unrecognizable as the fighting forced people to flee from their homelands amid brutal attacks.

As you walked through the village, trying to acclimate yourself, you ran across a young girl who couldn’t have been more than five or six years old. You smiled and waved at her which caused her to burst into a fit of giggles. She cheerfully ran up to you and asked you what your name was.

“Hello! I’m Y/N. What’s your name?” You asked her.

“My name’s Eva! I’m five!” She grinned back at you and pointed at your medical corps uniform. “I like your costume!”

You couldn’t help but laugh and playfully salute at the little girl’s exuberance. It was nice to have a pleasant interaction after seeing so much pain and misery. Suddenly, one of the most gorgeous women you had ever laid your eyes on walked up and gently scolded Eva for bothering you. She had luscious golden brown hair and the intensity of her inquisitive blue eyes made your heart skip a beat.

“Eva, let’s not bother this nice person, alright? I’m sure they are busy.” The woman spoke in a velvety voice.

“Sorry, mommy.” Eva offered up sheepishly.

You blushed and stood up straighter when you noticed the woman staring at you. “No trouble at all, ma'am! We were just getting acquainted. Right, Eva?”

The little girl hid behind her mother’s legs, now shy, but nodded her head happily.

“Well, I can’t say we have had the pleasure of being introduced. I’m Miranda.” The woman held out a dainty hand for you to take which you did gladly.

You were a mess.

“O-oh! That’s right! I’m Y/N, I’m new here- well, actually I’m just passing through. T-to do some research!”

Miranda’s eyes sparkled with curiosity and she grinned softly. “Well, it seems I’m in good company. I am a studying scholar myself, however, I had to defer some of my education because of this little one.” Miranda turned and rubbed Eva’s head affectionately making the girl smile at her in adoration.

Your heart warmed at such a gentle display of love. You explained that you had been sent on a research mission to find healing plants to make salves and medicines with. You and Miranda hit it off immediately. She had so much knowledge and wisdom for somebody so young. You both worked side by side to come up with formulations and solutions.

You ended up spending a month in the tiny village with Miranda and Eva. You grew fond of the pair and felt yourself starting to fall for the brilliant woman before you were assigned to frontline medical care. When you left, Miranda gave you a locket with a picture of her and Eva in it to remember them by. You promised that you would write to her and that as soon as you got leave you would be back. She shocked you by giving you a tender kiss on the lips. She said that she would wait for you.

September, 30th 1914 - March, 16th 1915

Being a frontline medic was a scary and dangerous job. You worked hard and tried to help as many people as you could. You were stationed in Belgium for a few months while you tried to heal broken bodies. You made sure to write Miranda every chance you got. Sadly, a surprise attack killed most of the troops in one of your assigned trenches one night and badly burned your right leg. You were soon medically discharged from the medical corps, so you decided to make the trek back to the small village.

March, 28th 1915

When you arrived, people from the village recognized you and ran to get Miranda. When Miranda came out and saw you, she wept happy tears to see you back again. She ran up to hug you (being careful not hurt your injured leg) and held you tight. Eva was not far behind as she smiled and ran up to hug your legs. She was delighted to have her friend back.

Not long after this happy reunion, you had proposed marriage to Miranda and she excitedly accepted. You, Miranda and Eva led a peaceful and happy life for many years, unsuspecting of the hardships you would face.

October, 25th 1919

You and Miranda lived and worked in her home as healers for the village. Earlier that year, you had gotten some correspondence from old buddies who were in the medical corps with you. They warned of a serious strain of influenza that was wreaking havoc across Europe. You had looked into the limited reports about it that you could get in your village, but so far, much like the war, the village had seemingly been untouched by the disease.

November, 10th - November, 12th 1919

A few villagers complained two days ago of headaches, fevers and body aches. As scary as those symptoms were in light of the pandemic gripping Europe and other continents, you and Miranda had reasoned that there was not enough trade coming in and out of the village to warrant too much concern, although you both had always been advocates of personal hygiene and hand washing. Now, it seems those same villagers had taken a turn for the worst. Fevers that you normally dealt with in this region would typically break within twenty-four hours, however this illness was clinging on and not letting go. The apparent outbreak was also causing multiple people to present with the same symptoms almost immediately after coming in contact with the infected. This suggested a high likelihood of fast onset and an even faster incubation rate. Once you and Miranda returned home to get some rest, you both made sure to wash thoroughly and keep away from Eva as a precaution.

November 13th - November 21st 1919

Eva had woken up with a stuffy nose and a fever a few days after the illness had started spreading through the village. Miranda stayed home and watched her while you went out to help others. Eva did not have particularly severe symptoms, so you were praying that her young and otherwise healthy immune system would wipe out the disease.

As time wore on, Eva began to decline. Her spunky blue eyes started to dull with each passing hour. You were so scared. Terrified that you would lose the little girl who you loved as your own flesh and blood. While you remained rather stoic, Miranda was outwardly panicking. Every time Eva would break out into a coughing fit Miranda could feel her heart drop to her stomach. Your wife began lashing out at you and blaming you for having brought home this plague to your daughter. You felt guilty, but to be fair, both you and Miranda had been out tending to the sick. Also, there was little you could do without vaccines and effective medicines to treat this illness.

Finally, on November 21st 1919 your worst nightmare became a reality. Eva took her last breath in her mother’s arms. Your little playmate and constant companion was gone. You screamed and cried while Miranda was eerily silent. After a few hours, she calmly cleaned Eva’s body, dressed her in her finest clothes and buried your darling girl near the tree she always used to play by. You both were sobbing as you said your goodbyes, but Miranda seemed so broken. She couldn’t function.

November, 29th 1919

After multiple relatively sleepless nights, one morning you awoke to an empty bed. Miranda’s side of the bed was cold, alerting you to the fact that she had been up for a while. You thudded into the kitchen with what little energy you had only to find a note on the table. As you read through the note from Miranda you felt a sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. Miranda kept saying how she needed to be with Eva and how she deserved to have her mother with her. You were scared your wife might try to hurt herself.

You started searching for Miranda all over the village. You eventually came to a large cave and wandered inside to look for your wife. As you called out Miranda’s name, a somewhat familiar blonde woman appeared in front of you. She had swept back hair and a piercing silver stare. You fell onto your back in fright at what had become of your beloved Miranda. You called her name and she was immediately at your side explaining how she had somehow seen Eva’s consciousness when she touched the root of a large fungal colony. You couldn’t believe your ears and ushered Miranda to come back home. You hated to do it, but you had to snuff out any hope Miranda had of getting Eva back. She was gone and holding on like this would only prolong you and Miranda’s suffering.

“Miranda, she’s gone. Eva is gone! You have to accept this! It’s not healthy to ignore reality!” You had pleaded with her.

Miranda surged forward with a feat of strength you had never seen her possess and slammed you so hard into one of the cave walls you were afraid it might disintegrate. She grabbed you by the throat and yelled at you. “You know nothing of what I feel! Eva is MY daughter, not yours! If you won’t help me, I have other ways of making you useful!”

Miranda’s words cut you to the core, but you knew (hoped) that she was just lashing out from her grief and she didn’t really mean what she said.

Miranda’s grip on your throat tightened as she dragged you back to the lab in your home. She roughly threw you into a chair and tied you down with rope. Miranda was a completely different person now. Her sweet but direct manner had all but vanished. What you were looking at now was a shell of a woman with only one ambition. Miranda took out a jar from her coat that seemed to contain samples of the fungal colony she was talking about. She came over to you before ripping the front of your shirt open.

“Miranda! What are you doing?! Stop this!” You said to Miranda.

In her all-consuming rage, the now deranged woman slapped you in the face and yelled at you to shut up.

“I’ll have my Eva back!” She shrieked at you.

Miranda grabbed a scalpel and started mercilessly cutting into the flesh of your chest to reach your heart. You writhed in agony as Miranda mutilated you. Miranda eventually grabbed a pair of tweezers and picked up a sample of the fungus before placing it next to your still beating heart in the hopes that it would attach itself to the organ.

As soon as the fungus began melding into your body, you started to scream and seize violently. Miranda watched in morbid fascination, and shame, as she saw what the fungus was doing to you. It seemed that her moment of pure mania had passed and she was seeing the effects of her lack of self-control.

Tears streamed down her face as your body stopped moving all together. She stared into your now unseeing eyes and wept as she realized you were dead. She choked out apologies as she laid her head on your lap. Miranda couldn’t believe the horrible act she had just committed. She had killed her own spouse in one of the most gruesome ways possible. She loathed herself and cried for hours by herself in that lab.

As she picked herself up off the floor, finally ready to lay you to rest, Miranda was now determined to get both you and Eva back. No matter the consequences…

Masterlist

[latibvles]

SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful, tragic // to be in it with you.

i’ll find a million ways to say it before i say that i’m in—

masterlist | gallery | taglist

TAGLIST: @liebgotts-lovergirl , @softguarnere , @brassknucklespeirs ,@monalisastwin , @mads-weasley , @eugene-emt-roe

SUMMARY: Reaching the Eagles’ Nest makes the day special in more ways than one.

WARNINGS: None!

Picturesque mountains, sun warming her skin, her eyes crinkle at the corners on a squint as she peers at it for a moment. She didn’t think she’d have much time for sightseeing in a war, but here she is — a working draft of a letter balanced precariously on her thigh as she writes out a thank you for the well wishes from her mother, men and women alike all idling on this road etched into the mountainside. Beside her, Jane is also leaned up against the jeep, gray eyes shut to soak in the rays warming them like stones on a riverbed.

“Your French still any good?” she asks, out of the blue cracking one eye open. That was one thing Daisy began to notice about Jane. When she was feeling chatty, she could never anticipate what the girl was going to say or ask. Daisy raises an eyebrow, looking at her sidelong and gives her a shrug.

“It’s alright, I guess. Why d’you ask?”

“Cause I can’t remember a lick of shit since Belgium but I wanna tell the French to haul ass and get rid of the roadblock.” At that, Daisy snorts at the mild irritation edging in Jane’s voice as she says it, folding up her paper and putting it in her pocket.

“What, don’t wanna beat the French to the nest?”

“I don’t give a damn who wins, I just want to get up there already.” Distantly, a sound of an explosion echoes down the road they’re all sat upon, and Daisy snorts. Last Daisy checked, they were getting quite…  creative with how they intended to blow the roadblock sky high. Namely, combining explosives like a high-risk middle school science fair. Grenades, dynamite, bazookas, all which translated in Daisy’s mind as some idiot having too much fun and losing a couple fingers if they weren’t careful enough.

She’s hoping that the joy found in blowing things up might’ve died down a little bit with the war apparently coming so close to an end — but part of her knows that’s just her own foolish optimism.

But it is, admittedly, nice to know she still has some of it left after all this.

“Someone’s antsy,” Daisy can’t help but snicker, and Jane rolls her eyes.

“Ever the astute observations from my fearless leader.” She watches Jane shake out a cigarette and fish through her pocket for the lighter, lights it, and brings it to her own lips before letting smoke escape. Then she offers it to Daisy.

“Yeah well, that’s what they hired me for.”

“Your wise remarks?” Jane asks as Daisy takes it from her, bringing it to her own lips. They share a look as an engine roars and a jeep whizzes by them further up the road.

“My astute observations,” Daisy concurs, “Also, I think you might’ve gotten your wish after all, Gray.”

The town was dead quiet before they came in. An eerily empty place save for the rumble of engines, emblazoned in the red banners that make her entirely angry now. The moment their feet hit the ground, anything that gleams is fair game — for combat nurse and soldier alike, it seems.

Which is to say: Daisy’s bag is heavy with things that weren’t even hers, nor were they things that she necessarily picked up herself. She didn’t expect Rita to have such sticky fingers, but when the argument was that they’d need nice silverware for the apartment they’ve yet to get, she couldn’t exactly argue with that sound logic. And when Easy Company gets fired up to head further up the mountain — she allows herself a moment of childishness, sticking out her tongue to her friend who would be staying behind in town for the moment with the rest of Fox.

Okay, so maybe she got her pick of a couple candleholders in town, and maybe she was just a little bit eager to see if the stone mountain retreat had anything nicer than that. Which it should, because the damn thing had a gold plated elevator.

She’s greeted with lush couches and carpets, champagne in buckets of water that likely was ice, at one point, and the sound of popping bottles as everybody in the place helps themselves to the stash. Daisy wanders, curious as the men chip pieces off that big stone fireplace. She’s on one of the many balconies the retreat holds when Liebgott finds her first. He smacks one of those fireplace chunks unceremoniously into her hand. Then, he offers her the glass-green champagne bottle he’s carrying with him.

“It’s a special day, after all, don’t say I didn’t get you nothin’,” he hums with a knowing glint in his eye. She takes the bottle by the neck, glances up at him with slightly wider eyes and parted lips.

“You remembered?”

“What kinda dumb question is that?” He asks with a bit of a scoff. “‘Course I did, kid, now hurry up before I take the damn bottle back.” Daisy rolls her eyes and takes a swig, champagne bubbles popping on her tongue and going down smooth. It tastes expensive. She grins as she licks the excess from her lips and gives him the bottle back, and then he takes a swig from it himself before ruffling her hair. “Atta girl. Make any wishes?”

“I’d need candles for that.” He grins again and gives her a shrug.

“Sure we could work somethin’ out. Not like ol’ Adolf’s gonna need them. Y’know this place has a goddamn kitchen? Fully stocked.” He says, a sharp bite to the words. Daisy snorts, partially in disbelief.

“What, you're gonna make me a cake or something? I don’t know if I trust you around a stove while you’re drinking.” Joe laughs, a full sound accompanied by another ruffle of her hair. “Tell you what, you find me candles and I’ll make all the wishes in the world.” That seems to satisfy him, the grin not faltering as he looks up and past her. There’s a clearing of the throat, and Daisy turns around.

Ron stands in the doorway, straight-faced and looking between them, before his gaze focuses on Liebgott.

“I need to speak to Lieutenant Clarke, Liebgott,” he informs in that non-negotiable tone of his. As if they had important business to attend to among the pretty scenery and loungers arranged to overlook the woods below. Joe isn’t an idiot, so he nods, resigned.

“Yes, sir,” he responds with a salute, he walks back inside, disappearing into the building and Daisy watches as that stern look on Ron’s face practically melts away.

He’d been the first one up, with Malarkey and Alton. So it didn’t take a genius to know that wherever he’d stored his gear in this place — it would likely clink and clatter until it made its way to Vest at the post office to get all boxed up. He reaches up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, shorter strands that had fallen from its braid. Something about the mundaneness of the gesture makes her smile.

“One hell of a day,” Ron observes, giving her a knowing look.

“That’s a way to put it, yeah,” Daisy points out with a curious smile. He tilts her chin up with his knuckle until she’s looking at him completely.

“Make any wishes?”

“Didn’t you hear while you were creeping in the shadows? You can’t make a wish without candles.” She points out, and Ron rolls his eyes as he leans down to kiss her, her chin between his thumb and pointer. His lips taste like whiskey, and she can’t help but think back to the last time he drank — all weepy in her lap and dramatic in the morning. The grin that makes it onto her lips is enough to break their kiss. He gives her a half-hearted narrow-eyed look.

“I don’t creep.”

“Lurking then, it’s not a bad thing,” Daisy amends, and she can tell Ron is biting back what has to be a smile as he fishes around in his pocket.

“Fine. Lurking. Doesn’t matter, I got you something.”

“If it’s forks, I’m afraid Rita might have you beat there. I think the drawers might burst if we get any more.” Ron shakes his head immediately with a soft chuckle.

“Not forks, but good to know.”

What he produces from his pocket is much more delicate than the silverware or the candle holders or the hand mirrors.

It’s a sapphire pendant on a thin, silver chain. Delicate and pretty in a way that makes Daisy’s lips part on a gasp. She’d passed quite a bit of jewelry, but none of it were things she’d ever wear so she left it behind for someone else to take. It was all too chunky, too demanding of attention, too weighty in her hands. This was the opposite. Silver curls around that deep blue sapphire, holding it in place, but it was still the centerpiece in spite of the embellishments.

“Happy birthday, Dais,” he says simply. Daisy reaches up, fingers grazing the cold metal in awe. She then looks up at him, a million questions and statements all posed on her tongue.

“Can you put it on me?” is what she decides on, and to that he nods, and she turns around.

Fingers graze the back of her neck as his fingers work to fasten it. She doesn’t care about how he got it, where it came from — just that he’d picked it up not to mail home, but to give to her. And she shouldn’t expect anything less from him, but everything he does still manages to fill her with something that can only be described as pure wonder.

Ron is wonderful. 

It’s not an epiphany of any sort, if anything, she feels like it’s the most obvious statement she could make. Of course he’s wonderful. Because Ron remembers things about people and makes a point to apply it. Ron knows everything about her, he listens to her. He could’ve given her any of the countless too-chunky rings and necklaces left abandoned in town or in this building. But he doesn’t. He finds the thing he knows she’ll wear and gives that to her instead.

So maybe, she’s just a little bit awestruck at how he could love a person like her in such a way. With such careful precision.

She turns around, throws her arms around his neck, and kisses him. His hands find her waist immediately, holding, squeezing as he returns her kiss with ease, remnants of champagne and whiskey mixing on their lips for a moment before they pull away — barely so, because her forehead presses against his and she makes a point to bump their noses.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Daisy breathes out without thinking. But she doesn’t pull away upon realizing what she’s said. She’d rather stare, and she’s glad she doesn’t look away, because he smiles. The rare one, where his eyes crinkle at the corners. Beautiful, breathtaking, rare but still Ron.

“Yeah? You love me?” Ron asks, his voice edging on a tease. It’s like watching years come off him in the span of seconds. He looks so boyish. She nods, cheeks flushing a bit at his tone, but his arms only wrap around her tighter.

“I do.”

He leans forward to kiss her again, briefer than before, but still firm against her.

“Then I love you too,” he mutters, then another kiss. “And when we go home,” kiss, “You know I’m marrying the hell outta you, right?”

Her heart skips a beat.

“Been thinking about that one for a while?” She asks, and Ron squeezes her hips, hazel eyes moving across her features as he examines her face.

“Figured to wait, that you’d want a ring that’s shiny and new and all yours.” And then he waits, leaving it open for her to contradict him — for her to object in any way she sees fit, but she doesn’t.

“You might have a point there.” She watches the way his smile returns.

“So is that a yes?”

Daisy reaches up to take his face in her hands, coarse stubble beneath her palms as she glides her thumbs over his cheekbones. Her turn to begin a sentence with a kiss.

“Ask me again in front of your mother with a ring that’s all mine, and then  you’ll get an answer. Promise.”

Marriage. The thought had always been there — she’d wanted to get married, at some point, to somebody. As a teenager the idea scared her a bit — the thought that she could pick the wrong person clashing with the fantasy in her head of white wedding gowns and her father walking her down the aisle. It only worsened when she found out about the cheating. If she dared think about anything that wasn’t work, or the war, or James, it would tread into territory of her future spouse wrapped up in a secretary or something. Loving someone that wasn’t her.

Ron isn’t just somebody. And the thought of marrying him doesn’t scare her at all. It’s like a piece snapping into place, something sound and correct that she can envision clearly, even if the details are hazy.

One day in a not-so-distant future, he’s going to ask her to marry him. And she’s a hundred percent certain that she’s going to say yes.

The door opens and with that, the whooping and laughter from Harry and Nixon bounce off the walls, bottles of what she can assume is whiskey on ice in a bucket tucked into his arm. She catches Ginny behind the two of them with a small smile on her face, shoulders shaking in laughter.

“There he is! We aren’t interrupting something, are we?” Lew asks, more hypothetical than anything as Ron lets his hands fall to turn around. Ginny, on the other hand, eyes the new piece on Daisy’s neck and gives her a knowing look.

Lew doesn’t wait for an answer, he throws himself on the lounger with a catlike grin, and Harry reaches for one of the bottles.

Ron gives her a look as Harry pops off the cap, and all Daisy does is laugh.

[butterfrogmantis]

// Couple of suggestive pick up lines on doodle 5 djdk

Tuffy Foley was born along the coastal area of the Long Island section of NY, in a slightly run down neighbourhood. Once rumoured to have been a famous smugglers area for pirates, the summers were often overcrowded with tourists and the winter’s barren of much company. Tuffy was raised by his aunt and uncle, due to his biological parents having lost custody of him as a toddler. His aunt and uncle were kind folk and Tuffy trusted them whole heartedly – the same could not be said for the kids his age around the area. Tuffy was much younger, and much smaller than most of them, so he quickly became an easy target to their constant taunts and physical jabs.

Tuffy endured the black eyes and taste of gravel for far too long before someone stepped up to them. But someone did – Hefty Ortiz, a slightly older and braver kid than Tuffy, who’d had enough of the peers his age picking on the ‘poor guy’ and told them to back off. Hefty was not a kid to be messed with either, he was strong enough to easily hold his ground and the bullies knew he didn’t bluff. For Tuffy, he had found a new idol that day, and was forever in his debt.

Tuffy meet’s Hefty’s mom’s. X and Y Ortiz, a lesbian couple who had been raising their son into a compassionate and strong minded young man. X worked as the local sports coach, whilst Y was a social worker, so it was easy to see where Hefty’s strength and empathy came from. This was also Tuffy’s first positive representation of homosexuality – Tuffy had likely endured bigoted slurs from the bullies, despite being too young to know what the future had in store for him, and being around the Ortiz family has likely saved him from years of further denial.

Teenage Hefty discovered girls, Teenage Tuffy discovered Hefty. I mean, kid Tuffy looked up to Hefty but teenage Tuffy worshipped the very ground he walked on. It was an almost unhealthy obsession, and unfortunely this did start to strain his relationship with Hefty who found him to be broaching into slightly unhealthy co-dependency and imitation behaviour.

Hefty travels to Belgium. Tuffy, still lost in a fantasy parasocial relationship with him, follows. Ultimately, despite their adventures, his affections are never returned and it becomes obvious to Tuffy they never will.

A heartbroken but bitter Tuffy turns to … more unwarranted approaches and with his new found self-appointed freedom at no longer pursuing Hefty exclusively, Tuffy moves on … to his best friend, Handy Turner. When that doesn’t work, Tuffy decided to try a new outlook and attempts to attract the attention of a much older man, Wooly Sherman. That also does not work. Tuffy sulks and decides to give up for now. 

A few years later, Marco Spaziale is back in the village. His first trip away since the ‘incident’ in fact and what he’d really like now is a quiet night in the pub and a pint to relax. What he GETS is a sulking Tuffy who’s pissed about another failed rizz attempt. Marco is … bemused but annoyed. They exchange some banter and Marco tells some bone-chilling sea stories. Well, that gets Tuffy’s attention. Actually now that he thinks about it this Marco fella is sort of handsome in a very ruggish and badass way – Just Tuffy’s type. Those scars are pretty cool. Tuffy’s into it. He’s found a new object of his affections.

Marco suspects there may be a distant link between Tuffy and the weird skeleton dude walking around. Tuffy has concerns of his own.

It took some time but Marco warms back to Tuffy. He kind of originally viewed him as a sad little puppy, but like sad little puppies they have a way of warming your heart. Unlike his friend Dreamy who Marco tends to perceive as something akin to a little brother relationship with him, Marco’s never really had anything to do with Tuffy before and romantic feelings are eventually reciprocated. Marco is a bit older and more experienced about life in general whereas Tuffy has followed Hefty his whole life and is younger and a bit sheltered. Marco shows him some of the world. Tuffy discovers he has seasickness.

Tuffy and baby Vitriolic. Aww. He’s a good dad despite Vitty having er. Her own social issues djdjk

Tuffy, Hefty, Smurfette, Handy, Marina, Wooly, and Marco (c) The Smurfs

Hefty's moms, Skelly and Vitriolic are mine

[awardseason]

Oscars 2023 — Winners

Best Picture “All Quiet on the Western Front” “Avatar: The Way of Water” “The Banshees of Inisherin” “Elvis” “Everything Everywhere All at Once” — WINNER “The Fabelmans” “TÁR” “Top Gun: Maverick” “Triangle of Sadness” “Women Talking”

Best Director Martin McDonagh (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) — WINNER Steven Spielberg (“The Fabelmans”) Todd Field (“TÁR”) Ruben Östlund (“Triangle of Sadness”)

Best Actress Cate Blanchett (“TÁR”) Ana de Armas (“Blonde”) Andrea Riseborough (“To Leslie”) Michelle Williams (“The Fabelmans”) Michelle Yeoh (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) — WINNER

Best Actor Austin Butler (“Elvis”) Colin Farrell (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Brendan Fraser (“The Whale”) — WINNER Paul Mescal (“Aftersun”) Bill Nighy (“Living”)

Best Supporting Actress Angela Bassett (“Black Panther: Wakanda Forever”) Hong Chau (“The Whale”) Kerry Condon (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Stephanie Hsu (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) Jamie Lee Curtis (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) — WINNER

Best Supporting Actor Brendan Gleeson (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Brian Tyree Henry (“Causeway”) Judd Hirsch (“The Fabelmans”) Barry Keoghan (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Ke Huy Quan (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) — WINNER

Best International Feature Film “All Quiet on the Western Front” (Edward Berger, Germany) — WINNER “Argentina, 1985” (Santiago Mitre, Argentina) “Close” (Lukas Dhont, Belgium) “EO” (Poland) “The Quiet Girl” (Ireland)

Best Adapted Screenplay Edward Berger, Ian Stokell, and Lesley Paterson (“All Quiet on the Western Front”) Rian Johnson (“Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery”) Kazuo Ishiguro (“Living”) Ehren Kruger, Christopher McQuarrie, and Eric Warren Singer (“Top Gun: Maverick”) Sarah Polley (“Women Talking”) — WINNER

Best Original Screenplay Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”) — WINNER Todd Field (“TÁR”) Tony Kushner and Steven Spielberg (“The Fabelmans”) Martin McDonagh (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Ruben Östlund (“Triangle of Sadness”)

Best Animated Feature “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio” — WINNER “Marcel the Shell with Shoes On”  “Turning Red”  “Puss in Boots: The Last Wish”  “The Sea Beast” 

Best Cinematography James Friend (“All Quiet on the Western Front”) — WINNER Darius Khondji (“Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths”) Mandy Walker (“Elvis”) Roger Deakins (“Empire of Light”) Florian Hoffmeister (“Tár”)

Best Visual Effects “Avatar: The Way of Water” — WINNER “All Quiet on the Western Front” “The Batman” “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever” “Top Gun: Maverick”

Best Editing “Elvis”  “Everything Everywhere All at Once”— WINNER “Top Gun: Maverick”  “TÁR”  “The Banshees of Inisherin”

Best Production Design “Avatar: The Way of Water” “All Quiet on the Western Front” — WINNER “Babylon”  “Elvis” “The Fabelmans”

Best Makeup and Hairstyling “Elvis”  “The Batman”  “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever”  “All Quiet on the Western Front” “The Whale” — WINNER

Best Costume Design “Elvis” “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever” (Ruth E. Carter) — WINNER “Everything Everywhere All at Once”  “Babylon”  “Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris”

Best Sound “Top Gun: Maverick” — WINNER “Elvis”  “Avatar: The Way of Water”  “All Quiet on the Western Front”  “The Batman”

Best Original Song “Hold My Hand” — Lady Gaga (“Top Gun: Maverick”) “Lift Me Up”— Rihanna (“Black Panther: Wakanda Forever”) “Naatu Naatu”— Kaala Bhairava, M.M. Keeravani, and Rahul Sipligunj (“RRR”) — WINNER “Applause”— Diane Warren (“Tell It Like a Woman”) “This Is a Life”— David Byrne, Ryan Lott, and Mitski (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”)

Best Original Score Justin Hurwitz (“Babylon”) John Williams (“The Fabelmans”) Volker Bertelmann (“All Quiet on the Western Front”) — WINNER Carter Burwell (“The Banshees of Inisherin”) Son Lux (“Everything Everywhere All at Once”)

Best Documentary Feature “All That Breathes” “All the Beauty and the Bloodshed” “Fire of Love” “A House Made of Splinters” “Navalny” — WINNER

Best Documentary Short Subject “The Elephant Whisperers” — WINNER “Haulout” “How Do You Measure a Year?” “The Martha Mitchell Effect” “Stranger at the Gate”

Best Live Action Short “An Irish Goodbye” — WINNER “Ivalu” “Le Pupille” “Night Ride” “The Red Suitcase”

Best Animated Short “The Flying Sailor” “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” — WINNER “Ice Merchants” “My Year of Dicks” “An Ostrich Told Me the World Is Fake and I Think I Believe It”

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 25: Udelida

Summary: His face is pale, yet between his shivering and the fat snowflakes that flurry between them, something like a smile might be pulling at the edge of his mouth. “Well, Private Driver, it looks like you’re no longer one of the only men without a Purple Heart.” A/N: Chapter title means "secret" in Cherokee Warnings: grief, death, injury, language, blood, war Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @lady-cheeky @hxad-ovxr-hxart @ithinkabouttzu @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

Belgium, 1945

One summer morning when Zenie was seventeen, Granny had announced that she would not be going to church because she had woken up with a headache, but would Zenie please bring her a serving of Mrs. Dill’s delicious banana pudding back from the picnic that would follow the service? Squeezing her hand, Zenie had promised that she would, and Bobby’s mom had been so kind as to send all the banana pudding leftovers home with Zenie.

Leftovers that sat forgotten on the kitchen table spoiling for two days after Zenie got home. Granny had more than a headache. Mama said that she must have passed peacefully during a morning nap.

They buried her the next day, up in Bird Town, on the Boundary, surrounded by her family and right next to her husband.

Zenie did not leave her room for three days after they returned home. Not until Mama came to her, to hold her, to tell her that Granny wouldn’t want her to waste away like this.

“You were very young when your grandfather passed away,” Mama said.

“I remember him, though.” Zenie, who had been lying so that she faced the window, finally turned to face her mother where she sat in between her bed and Marilyn’s. “Everyone thinks that I don’t, but I do. One memory, anyway.”

Mama had seemed surprised by this. “I didn’t know that . . . Do you remember what your grandmother said when he died?”

Zenie shook her head, her loose hair rustling against her pillow.

“She said that the best way to honor his memory was to go on living our lives.” Mama moved then, sitting on the edge of Zenie’s bed and taking her hand. Her hands were chapped from all her work as a laundress, her grip firm, like she could force understanding into Zenie’s hands, into her soul, if she just held on tightly enough. “There’s nothing that we can do to bring them back, either of them. But Granny would hate to see you so sad. She wanted nothing more than to see you happy.”

All Zenie had done those past three days is cry, yet somehow, warm tears sprang into her eyes.

“But she made me happy.” The lump in her throat made it hard to talk, but Zenie managed to force the words out in a whisper.

“I know.”

“I’m so lonely, Mama.”

“I know, baby. But do you know what?” When Zenie shook her head again, Mama brought her hands up to her lips and pressed a sad kiss to them. She took a deep breath, one that rattled the sadness in her chest a little. “She will always be with you.”

“She’s gone.”

Mama shook her head. “No. She’s in here.” She tapped Zenie’s forehead. “And in here.” She tapped her heart. “Whenever you need her, that’s where she’ll be.”

Zenie had burst into sobs then, had buried her head in her pillow and allowed herself to be shaken. If what Mama said was true, then why did it hurt so much? If Granny was with her, shouldn’t she feel her? It should feel as if her grandmother was giving her a hug, like she always had a hand on Zenie’s shoulder, guiding her – not like a whole piece of her was missing.

Where are you? Zenie would wonder sometimes, alone at night. Why can’t I feel you?

In the letter that Zenie had gotten on D-Day, Mama had said the same thing.

This is different, though. Zenie knows exactly where her friends have gone. And she wants them to come back.   

If Granny were with her – really with her – then she would know exactly what to do, the right thing to say that would make everything better. No – if Granny were here, none of this would have ever happened to begin with. Zenie never would have run away . . . But then if she had never run away, she never would have met Bill, Joe, any of her friends. She never would have met Shifty. Her heart aches when she thinks of his smile, of the way that he gently covered her eyes up on the mountain back in Clinchco.

Is this all her fault, somehow? Or would all of this – all of this devastation that currently surrounds her in this forest – have happened anyway?

Oh, Granny! Zenie thinks, lifting her eyes up to the dreary sky overhead. I think I’ve messed everything up.

There isn’t much time for her to wallow in this thought and the flood of emotions that it brings. Someone stands over her foxhole, gently saying her name.

“Tommy?” Lipton says for what is definitely not the first time. How long has she been down here? And how long has he been trying to get her attention?

Zenie raises her eyes to him. Now that she’s finally acknowledged his presence, the sergeant squats down in front of the foxhole, his voice quiet, his words only for her.

“Hey, Tommy. Do you need anything?”

Everything that she wants is just out of reach. She shakes her head.

The edges of Lipton’s mouth pull down in a frown, but only for a second. “Thomas, Captain Winters has asked to see you.”

This gets Zenie’s attention. Through the dullness that courses through her, she catches her heart speeding up a bit. Her voice sounds very small and weak when she asks, “For what?”

“I don’t know,” Lipton says. “But I’m sending Liebgott over there now, to act as his runner for the day. Why don’t you walk with him?”

Though his words end with a question mark, there’s the definite sense that this isn’t a suggestion, but rather, a gentle order. Even with everything that runs through her head, Zenie can understand that plain as day. Her hands are shaking slightly less when she puts her helmet back on and accepts the hand that Sergeant Lipton offers her to help her out of her foxhole.

Besides his excellent haircuts, Zenie doesn’t interact with Liebgott very much. He’s funny and he’s tough, but ever since that day that he confronted her about not showering in front of the other men, Zenie has been somewhat avoidant of his observant gaze.

When she approaches, Liebgott gives her a onceover. It doesn’t feel like he’s dissecting her, though, like he’s trying to figure out what her deal is. Instead, there’s something somber in his gaze. It’s something of a surprise when he extends a hand, gently clapping her on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry about your friends, Tommy.”

Zenie blinks, taken aback. Not sure what to say, she nods. She might mutter a halfhearted thanks.

“They were good guys,” Liebgott says. “I mean, Bill and I had our differences, but he was a hell of a good NCO.” He gives her a sideways glance as they walk. “Anyway, I hope you’re okay.”

Though they’re not particularly close, Zenie gets the feeling that he really means this. “Thanks,” she manages. “I –“ Not sure what else to say, she nods instead. “Yeah.”

As they approach the CP, Zenie begins to come back to herself. Back at the foxhole she hadn’t considered why Captain Winters, someone she’s also not particularly close with, might be calling her out here. Throughout the war, Zenie has been careful to maintain a careful distance between herself and Easy Company’s most beloved leader. She likes Winters, but she’s well aware that he would hold her fate in his hands if her secret were to get out.

And now he wants to speak to her directly. Her throat goes dry again.

Part of her expected the captain to round on her the moment she approached, to have her seized and sent away at once, but instead she finds Winters and Nixon bundled in coats, shivering against the cold and talking amiably.

“Ah, there they are,” Nixon says. Just as usual, his voice is jovial, but his expression is hard to make out behind his beard.

Winters stands to greet them, even though he doesn’t have to. “Liebgott, are you my runner today?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Excellent.” With a gloved hand, Winters hands him an envelope and asks him to deliver it to the new aid station. (New aid station? Zenie finds herself wondering. Did they stop using the hospital?) Then, Winters gives her his full attention. His face is pale, yet between his shivering and the fat snowflakes that flurry between them, something like a smile might be pulling at the edge of his mouth. “Well, Private Driver, it looks like you’re no longer one of the only men without a Purple Heart.”

Oh, God, here we go, Zenie thinks. “Yes, Sir.”

“I was informed that you didn’t even stay at the aid station for a full day.” Winters makes a noise that, at first, Zenie thinks is a cough from the cold weather. But his shoulders continue jogging and his face breaks into a full smile. “Is that true?”

This certainly is not where Zenie imagined this conversation was about to go. “Yes, Sir. I only had minor wounds, so I came back with Doc Roe after he patched me up.”

“Goddamn,” Captain Nixon says, also with a smile. “You and Joe Toye, tough as nails.”

Being called tough, being compared to someone as tough as Joe, takes Zenie aback. But not as much as the image that now appears in her mind at the mention of her friend – images of blood-stained snow and other things that don’t seem real.

“Driver?” Winters’ smile disappears. “I was sorry to hear about Bill and Joe. I know they were your friends.”

For the second time, Zenie wonders how long she sat in that foxhole while the world crumbled around her. Also for the second time, she finds herself at a loss for words at someone’s offered sympathies. So few people offered condolences after Granny’s passing; accepting comforts is no simple task, she’s quickly learning.

“On that note,” Winters says, picking up the thread of the conversation. “Easy Company is down two excellent sergeants. And I think I know just the man who can help pick up the slack.”

“Sir?”

“Congratulations, Sergeant Driver,” Winters extends his hand, giving hers a firm shake.

Wait, what? Like so much of the morning, this doesn’t feel real. Still, Zenie returns the captain’s smile as best she can, and even shakes Captain Nixon’s hand as well. She came to the CP expecting to be confronted and punished. Instead, she leaves with a Purple Heart and a promotion. What a day.

The thought keeps her preoccupied until she returns to the company. She falls into her own foxhole this time. It’s empty, but that’s okay – it gives her time to figure out how to tell her friends.

She’s just sat down when a thump! signals a person taking a seat beside her. Expecting Shifty, she turns to face him, the news on the tip of her tongue, when she recognizes Babe next to her instead.

The Philadelphian smiles. “Hiya, Zena!”

For a split second, all Zenie can do is blink in surprise. While her mind tries to catch up, her body springs into action, with all her hand-to-hand combat training from Toccoa and her years of being the youngest sibling rushing to the forefront. Babe is slammed back against the foxhole with Zenie’s right forearm while her left hand clamps itself over his mouth. Her friend’s eyes go wide with surprise. He looks as shocked as she feels when she realizes what she’s done.

Now that she’s got him here, she’s not sure what to do. For an uncomfortable minute they just stare at each other in shock until Zenie feels something warm and wet touch her fingers. She springs away from Babe, back to her side of the foxhole, wiping her hand on the leg of her pants.

“Ew! Did you just lick me?!”

“Well what the hell else was I supposed to do? You looked ready to kill me!”

“Because you – “ They’ve both raised their voices. Zenie pops her head over the rim of the foxhole to see if anyone that could have overheard them is listening in. No one seems to be paying attention. She slumps down into the earth and hisses, “Why did you call me that?”

Babe tilts his head. “Your name?”

“It is, but no one can know!” Only three people know, and one of them is gone. “Wait. How did you know?”

Babe has the decency to look sheepish. “Okay, don’t be mad. I said don’t be mad! You already look angry.”

Zenie can’t really tell what her face might look like at present. This is nothing more than another unexpected event in the longest and most perplexing day of her life. Still, for Babe’s sake, she tries not to look upset.

“Bill told me – “

“Son of a bitch! He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad,” Babe insists again. He rushes on before they can fall into more bickering. “Bill was just worried about you, was all. It’s a big secret – a dangerous one – and he thought that having two people watching your back would make you safer.” Silence fills the space between them as Zenie absorbs it all. A small smile tugs at Babe’s lips as he adds, “If it makes you feel any better, Bill threatened to kill me if I told anyone. I’m only tellin’ you because I wanted you to know that even though he’s gone, I’ve got you covered.”

She trusted Bill with her secret. And, admittedly, she wasn’t wrong to. He may have shared it with someone else, but he was looking out for her, just like he has been since they first met. He’s gone, but one more person who knows her secret is still here. And who knows? Maybe Babe knowing her secret will make things easier.

“Well when the war is over, I’m counting on you to take me to Philly so that I can give him a good smack upside the head for telling my secret,” Zenie says.

Babe laughs. “Of course.”

Zenie sighs, squaring him up. Babe knowing will make things between them easier, she reasons again. Besides, he never told Bill about all their sneaking out to dance whenever he put them on guard duty. Surely, he can keep this secret just as easily. “You swear you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.” One of his gingery eyebrows quirks in question. “Besides Bill, does anyone else know?”

“Just Doc Roe and Shifty.”

“Hmmm . . .” Babe considers this for a moment, squinting down at his hands. Just as Zenie is about to break the silence, he looks up. “So that’s why you and Gene are always sneakin’ off, huh?”

Zenie nods. “He checks in with me. Gives me bandages for my chest, health sponges, if I need them.”

Babe raises his eyebrows. “Is that it?” When Zenie nods again, something flickers across his face for just second before he asks, “Is there something going on between you two?”

“What, me and Gene? No! He’s just – “ Just helping me out, Zenie almost says. But can that really describe the full extent of what Eugene has done for her? She amends her words. “ – a friend.”

This is considered for another quiet moment before Babe nods. “Okay. Okay, well that’s good, because I was worried that maybe you two had something goin’ on.” His cheeks turn the same bright color as his hair. “I’ve been, uh – well, I’ve been tryin’ to get his attention for a while now, and I didn’t want to get in the way of anything that you two might have.”

A memory hits her then, of returning to the company with Gene after he brought her back from the church in Bastogne. Shock had been evident on Babe’s face, at what Zenie had assumed had been her unexpected return. But now, thinking about how she and Gene had reappeared together . . . and not even for the first time, considering how careful the medic has always been with whisking her off to aid stations so that she could have some privacy. No wonder Babe thought that they were a couple!

“You’re good to go,” Zenie assures him.

Babe huffs a little laugh, brows furrowing. “You ain’t bothered by –“ He makes a vague gesture. “ – by my . . . what I just said?”

I’ve been tryin’ to get his attention for a while now. Zenie knows that feeling. Her mind flashes back to her first kiss, to Lucy Jordan’s kind smile and soft lips. She also knows how good that feeling is when the attention is caught, when it’s returned in kind.

Funny, how when she first joined the army, she had been excited to find someone like herself in Shifty, with his family’s mixed background. And now she’s found someone like herself in Babe, too.

“Babe, I would be a hypocrite if I was bothered. I mean, look at the situation I’m in.” This seems to calm her friend’s nerves, because his eyebrows unfurrow and a shyer version of his usual smile finds its way back to his lips. “Besides, I think Shifty would be pretty upset if I had something going with Gene.”

“Shifty!” A hand flies to Babe’s face and he laughs into his palm. “Oh, goddamn! That really explains why you’re always glancin’ at him like that.” He laughs in that way that must be a staple of growing up in Philadelphia, because it sounds similar to Bill’s. The sound is jolly, but it’s a reminder that their friend isn’t here to share in this small joy with them. A pang of hurt zips through her heart like a lightning strike.

To distract herself from the pain that threatens to well up and spill over again, Zenie says, “Well, now that you know my secrets, I’m expecting you to do a better job at keeping them than Bill.”

Babe only smiles. “I’ll keep yours if you keep mine.”

She wouldn’t dream of telling anyone her friend’s secret. Still, after the day that they’ve had, she can’t help but return the smile, even if only for a moment. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

[lilyrizzy]

75!

don't you lock when you're fleeing, I'd like not to hear keys

----

Daniel used to promise he'd take Max to Perth.

The first time because Max had been too honest like always in front of Daniel, but there had also been a camera crew, a journalist shoving a microphone in Max's face, asking questions about what he would do with his winter break.

"What do you mean you haven't been to the beach?" Daniel had asked with a laugh, but his eyes had looked strange. Like he was worried. "Are there no beaches in Belgium?"

Of course there were. Victoria would make collections of shells from the ones she and his mum would visit, presenting them proudly to Max the next time she saw him. "Your present," she would say, and Max would pretend he'd been there, elbow to elbow at the shore with her, searching for them.

"I did not go on many holidays," he had shrugged to Daniel. Only to be told, as if it could ever be that simple,

"Well shit, we have to get you to Perth then, Maxy. You need to see the sea."

He'd mention it to Max every so often. Even after he kissed Max for the first time and found out he was bad at it, the way Max was bad at everything he'd never done before. Even after the first time Daniel made space for himself inside Max, even- Even after Daniel knew he did not have to say too-nice things to get Max into bed, he'd still talk about it.

What they would do in Perth, the things they would see. The people Daniel would introduce him to, even though Max wanted to tell him he thought it would be best if it was just them. At the end, he'd been glad he hadn't said this because that's what made it all be over.

The last time Daniel asked Max to go, the Qantas Airlines page had been loaded up on his iPad, and he'd asked, a little angrily, for the reason behind the "yeah right," Max has answered him with. When Max had told him what he thought Daniel already knew, that "people of course cannot know," he'd thought it would be okay. Daniel had said that, said "okay, Maxy."

Then a week later he'd told Max, "I don't think we should- If there's no real future here, Maxy, what's the point?"

Max had been angry and sad, but mostly hopeful that Daniel would miss him too much to stick to his stupid decision. Why did two weeks in Perth matter so much, when Daniel could spend the other fifty with Max, like always?

Then two months later, Daniel brought a girl to the paddock. Somebody pretty, somebody who smiled at Daniel all the time, just like Max, but who also held his hand walking through the paddock the way Max never could.

Somebody Daniel can take to the beach.

< send me a number & i'll write you something based on that song on my 2022 wrapped playlist! >

[icelandsgirl]

Hetalia Girls in a dance class

OPENING: So I dance (ballet, contemporary, ballet technique, and pointe) and I have collected a few of the going-ons at my awesome studio. Here goes (Hungary is the teacher, btw)

Hungary: That's not the move we're working on but that was lovely.

Belarus: Yeah, I know.

Taiwan: Oh my God, back up, I need more space. I'm feeling... passionate today. *flails around like a maniac*

Czechia: *instead of warming up* So my dad called me, and he says "Czechia, we need to talk." I was like, uh oh, but he was like, "I know this is going to upset you but me and my girlfriend who is not your mother have broken up," and so I muted my end of the call and was all like, "Yes, let's go!" And then I chilled and was like "Oh, I'm so sorry." And he's like "I know you must be so sad" as I'm happy dancing on the other end of the line.

Ukraine: Okay guys, I'm gonna show you how NOT to do this move. Do NOT get funky with the sways.

Liechtenstein: Actually, this is my bar.

Belarus: Actually, no.

Seychelles: Oh oh oh, it's just like on Dance Moms! Abby Lee! Queen!

Belgium: Can we listen to Taylor Swift please?

Vietnam: I hate Taylor Swift, can we listen to Cannibal Corpse?

Wy: Guys, I'm making a TiKTok.

Seychelles: This move is from Dance Moms!

Belgium: You're turning the other way! Such a silly goo bear!

Taiwan: Okay, I'm the protagonist.

Hungary: Swish your skirts!

Vietnam: *swishes skirt aggresively*

Liechtenstein: Who wants to see my feet?

Seychelles: I hurt my butt.

Wy: Get your honky-donk outta my face!

Ukraine: Don't be a honky-donk!

Hungary: Ladies, we need to work on the dance!

Liechtenstein: What dance?

[008luna008]

hello here are my esc 2023 opinions <3 we voted for the ones that have their numbers written down

Austria

the beat is SICK, the harmonies are too

8,5/10

Portugal

why is she wearing PINK GLOVES, catchy?? but a bit monotonous

6/10

Switzerland

love his blazer, like his voice but I don't think I'll remember this

6,5/10

Poland

boringgggggg, no. nope. WHY DIDN'T THEY CHOOSE JANN

3/10 (because like. it wasn't BAD.)

Serbia 05

slay, love the fit love the shoes, wait this is cool, love the stage show

9/10

France

that's an esc outfit for sure, it sure is a Choice to not have any dancers

6/10

Cyprus

the show is really dramatic for such a boring song

6,5/10

Spain

i think the girlies are doing a better job than the others

7/10

Sweden

my friend said "whoa she's so hot" and tbh I don't see it but I support the gays, is this her real hair???

8/10

Albania

like the idea like the culture but the music is mid

6,5/10

Italy

love the background dancers, also LOVE his motorcycle, where's the FUN?

7/10

Estonia

nice blue suit, THIS IS STILL NOT FUN, sigh

5,5/10

Finland 13

THERE'S THE FUN

9,5/10

Czechia

feels a bit like a kpop group? but I think only because they all look similar to me, why are only three of them holding microphones???

8/10

Australia

I've expected them to be more fun, they should've done the whole song more metal and not so split up

7,5/10

Belgium 16

the black background dancers >>>>, this feels really esc

8/10

Armenia

ok I was sceptical but this is developing into something

7/10

Moldova 18

this is so cool, I love it?? flute? dancing? girls with half circles?

9/10

Ukraine

techno stuff with a nice show, song sadly not that convincing

7/10

Norway

her fit is green?? slay

8/10

Germany

ok we do not have a great track record so forgive me for having hope, this is not bad? I like the setup and the song is good too, not a winner but not a last place imo, at least it's standing out

8/10

Lithuania

please carry your sadness out the door and not on this stage, like the dancers

6/10

Israel 23

love how she pronounces phenomenal, I want the outfit, this is sick??

9/10

Slovenia

wannabe-maneskin

7/10

Croatia

ohoho, is this the one show we'll keep talking about?

7,5/10

UK

her shape is so weird?? has noone told her about shapewear???

4/10

[missyourflight]

some stuff i read and watched in june:

taskmaster (s1-5): haven't done an early seasons rewatch in so long, s4 and 5 are basically perfect 2 me. incredible that mark watson manages to be both my favourite type of taskmaster guy (hopelessly despairing) and also nearly won the thing lol. nish forever obviously

silo: got well into this! probably at some point apple will stop throwing millions at sci-fi shows but i'm going to enjoy their folly in the meantime

mission: impossible ii: hadn't seen this one! the weakest of the lot but the john woo of it all is undeniable

mission: impossible iii: PSH outrageously good as the villain, hi keri russell

mission: impossible - ghost protocol: so much fun, especially the sequences where you can see brad bird's animation brain going

mission: impossible - rogue nation: ILSA my beloved, the opera sequence is so gorgeous, no notes!

mission: impossible - fallout: it's good when henry cavill reloads his arms, it's better when tom cruise is sprinting around london rooftops and breaking his ankle etc, my most basic trait is that i Love when they're in london like oooh tate modern. anyway i'm very ready for dead reckoning

asteroid city: the bits about making art really got to me! the vending machines were cool!

joint security area: crash landing on you prepared me for this, blank check weren't lying when they said it was homoerotic, song kang-ho forever etc

dodie smith, the town in bloom: the most delightful narrative voice i've read in Ages and v funny. easy to sell me on 1920s theatrical shenanigans

k patrick, mrs s: So hot and butch, i liked the butch friendship stuff almost more than the sex stuff. more sexy lesbian novels Please

kj charles, the secret lives of country gentlemen: another winner from KJC, my most reliable romantic comfort reads. this time it's smugglers!

alice slater, death of a bookseller: sticky little thriller about being poisoned by true crime, great sense of place, So many pints of dark fruits

laura kay, wild things: bisexual disaster in love with her best friend, tragically very me- and also george russell-coded, god i want to swim in a pond again

SOME STUFF I SAW AT ROCK WERCHTER

the dj on the first nigt who played a mash up of i'm gonna be (500 miles) into temperature and then the 1d cover of one way or another into little lion man (deeply cursed fandom flashbacks etc)

weyes blood with candelabras and glowing hearts and amazing adam curtis projections on the big screen behind her

king princess sending the gay girls of belgium absolutely wild - "you wanna hear a sad lesbian song?"

matty healy is a dickhead but he's very good at being the frontman of the 1975. like if ben whishaw was straight and kind of disgusting

stormzy!!! literally the rain was pouring during blinded by your grace pt 2

mumford and sons - this whole festival was like being borne back ceaseless into the past but the cave still fucks me up, marcus really in his ken marino era, face-wise

PUP - i do believe if this tour doesn't kill you, i will to be a wholly perfect song, they had a trans flag on stage, best vibes of the festival

sigur ros - sometimes you just want to be in a massive barn with thousands of people with your faces turned up in the dark feeling like you're inside the sound somehow

muse - fucking incredible live band still!! every time i'm see them i'm floored by how hot chris the bassist is and then i forget about it and then i see them again and i'm poleaxed etc. they had a tech meltdown during knights of cydonia at the encore so we got showbiz instead!!

christine and the queens - beautiful and terrible as the dawn

jacob collier - asked if we wanted to get funky then put on a special hat, bit george russell-coded in the face

arctic monkeys - sometimes you just want to be in a field with one of your oldest friends singing the songs of your youth!! i love the 70s act actually! there are so many sexy songs on AM!! the skies finally cleared for the beautiful full moon, thank you belgium, good night

[windwrackedstars]

Semifinal 2 thoughts:

Denmark: That sure is a twink. Fun and poppy. Missing the backup dancers from nationals and therefore he doesn’t spray paint one, which is a shame.

Armenia: interesting rap and dance breakdowns, but doesn’t quite feel cohesive

Romania: I Am Confused and I don’t think in a good way?

Estonia: played a little piano, pretty voice, A Ballad

Belgium: Threatened us with a ballad but swerved, more interested in watching the dancers on the video screen than him—WE HAVE A VOGUER LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

Cyprus: Weirdly feels like he’s bragging about having a broken heart so you can’t break it?

Iceland: What a power ballad 10/10.

Greece: oh we’re going on safari.

Poland: lots of dance breaks this Eurovision

Slovenia: a fun rock group

Georgia: A haunted girl. Love the aesthetic

San Marino: Sexy rock bands are their newest export and I am not complaining

Austria: A song for Edgar Allen Poe and English degrees. How can I not love?

Albania: this is a cult. Unsure who the leader is.

Lithuania: A Sad Ballad

Australia: Very 80s. More energy than a ballad.